#that's for someone much smarter than me to know

[reixtsu]

⪨༒𓊈𒆜🅞🅤🅡 🅣🅐🅡🅖🅔🅣𒆜𓊉༒⪩ | 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘

You were in deep shit, the deepest shit you have ever been in. Two men from rival companies, two men who were hot as fuck, were targeting you? Someone who was known as the best assassin in Japan? Honestly in any other situation you would have been honored to be hunted down by someone. It was a nice challenge, one that you would usually be confident in winning. However this time you were scared shitless.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the golden pair, notably the two strongest and best spies in Japan if not the world. Those two-no, legends-were targeting you. It definitely wasn't helping your carefully crafted composure that you've spent years to perfect.

The bastards were relentless. They moved like ghosts, dismantling every alias, every safe house, and every backup plan you had, as if you were a mouse being chased by some ninja cats. Wherever you went, they weren't far behind. There was no room for you to catch a single breath. Besides, it wasn't just their skill that  you-it was how they played the game. Gojo's smug confidence made your skin boil as warm as the spiciest curry, while Geto's quiet, calculating precision left you feeling like a fly caught in a web.

You ducked into a shadowy alleyway, the Tokyo skyline buzzing above, blissfully unaware of the pounding of your heart as you hid as best you could. It was annoying, how you felt them closing in on you, like wolves cornering a rabbit. Except this rabbit wasn't about to roll over. Not yet.

Forcing yourself to steady your breathing, reminding yourself of the boy Toji told you to look after like a shadow. Megumi, Toji's son. His safety came first, even if it risked your own. It was your checking his whereabouts when you accidently ran into Gojo one day, and that was the first piece of information that revealed your occupation. As much as you hated it, Gojo adopted Megumi, so now he is taking care of him. Gojo was keeping him safe, and that would be all that mattered if Gojo and his bestie wasn't plotting to kill you.

Your plush lips curled into a biter smile. How poetic. Two men who could bring the world to its knees, and here I am stuck in between them, scrambling to keep my life intact.

Footsteps echoed in the distance-light, deliberate. Your heart rate spiked. You gripped the blade hidden in your coat, your instincts sharpening.

"You can't hide forever you know." A smooth, arrogant voice cut through the silence, sending chills down your spine. He was here. Gojo.

You grit your teeth, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. That cocky bastard.

"She's smarter than that, Satoru," another voice added, one that was low and velvety. And there was Geto. "Be patient. She's probably trying to plan her next move."

"Trying?" Gojo snorted. "Please. She's desperate by now. You can smell it."

The audacity, really. You couldn't help the scoff that slipped from your lips. A stupid rookie mistake for a pro like you.

"Well, well," Gojo said, his voice practically dripping with smug delight. “There's our little rabbit.”

You stepped out of the shadows, forcing yourself to smirk even as your heart thundered within your chest. They were standing just a few paces away, both of them far too calm for comfort. Gojo had his hands shoved casually in his pockets, his blink round glasses hiding his pair of sparkling blue eyes. Geto stood beside him, arms crossed and his head tilted slightly, showing his Adam's apple, his expression unreadable but no less dangerous.

"Boys," you drawled, feigning confidence you didn't feel, "if you're going to hunt me, at least make it interesting.'

Gojo grinned, one that was wide and toothy. "Oh, sweetheart, you haven't even seen anything yet."

Geto's smirk was much subtler, but it still carried a weight that made your stomach twist in discomfort. "Careful what you wish for."

You huffed, hand on your hip as you glared at them. For the first time in your life, you weren't sure if you'd make it out unscathed. But if this was how it ended, then you were going to make the most out of it.

The game was on, and your life wasn't the only one on the line.

"You always run, sweetheart," Gojo teased, his tone light but nevertheless laced with dripping poison. "When do we get to have some real have fun with you?"

You reached over and twirled the knife in your hand, keeping your stance loose and ready. "You call this fun? Sounds like someone needs a better hobby."

"Maybe you can recommend one," Geto said calmly, stepping closer, his purple eyes sharp enough to cut through you. His movements were deliberate, like a predator closing in. "Though I doubt assassins have much time for hobbies between killing and running."

"Funny," you shot back, eyes flicking between them. "You two seem to have plenty of time for playing fetch with me."

Gojo's grin only widened, but his posture shifted ever so slightly-subtle, but enough to signal that he was ready to move. Your grip on your knife tightened.

"Aw, don't flatter yourself," Gojo said,adjusting his glasses casually. "We're not chasing you because it's fun." He leaned forward ever so slightly, his voice dropping an octave, "We're chasing you because you're special."

That comment threw you off for a second. The words he said just didn't sit right, nor the way he said it. You forced your expression to remain neutral. "Touching. Did you rehearse that?"

"Why would I? I'm naturally charming."

Geto cut in, his voice as smooth as silk. "Let's not drag this out, Satoru. She's in the corner. She knows it."

Your heart pounded, begging to be freed from your chest, but your face remained unreadable. You weren't cornered. Not yet. You just needed to keep them talking, just needed more time.

"Cornered?" You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be amused. "Do you see me begging for mercy? Or are you just hoping I will?"

"You've got guts," Geto said, tilting his head just enough to have his black bang cover part of his eye. "I'll give you that. Most people would've given up by now. But we know you're not like other people."

"Neither are you both," you replied, and in one fluid motion, you threw your knife-not at them, but at the exposed pipe just above their heads.

The knife swiftly struck true, steam hissing violently from the now broken pipe, flooding the narrow alleyway with a thick, blinding fog.

"Shit-!" Gojo cursed, his voice muffled in the chaos of fog.

You didn't risk the chance to wait. You bolted, weaving through the maze of alleyways as your boots pounded against the pavement. The fog bought you a few seconds, maybe less. They were way too good at their job to be distracted for long.

Your mind raced as fast as your legs. You've played their game long enough now to know that they weren't just chasing you for fun, they said it themselves. Your suspicions connected to Megumi started to seem more and more plausible as to how Gojo found you. But with the way he looked at like-like he knew everything about you- it wasn't random.

It terrified you to your core.

As you rounded a corner, a sudden blur of motion forced you to stop short.

"Fast," Geto murmured, stepping out of the shadows as if he'd been waiting for you. His calm demeanor sent a chill down your spine. "But not fast enough."

Your eyes darted around, searching for an opening, any, but he'd chosen his stop well. Narrow alley, no easy exits.

"You're good," he said, almost like he was praising you. You would be lying if his words didn't have an effect on you. "No wonder why you're the best. But even the best slip up eventually."

"I don't slip," you shot back, trying to keep as steady as you could.

"Then you must be tired." He took another step forward, unhurried but deliberate. "You've been running for days. Dodging us, hiding. you're human, no matter how perfect you pretend to be."

"Bold words for someone who needed a partner to keep up with me, huh?" You snapped, trying to mask the unease creeping up your spine with irritation.

A low chuckle echoed behind you, and your stomach sank instantly.

"Oh, she got you there, Suguru," Gojo's voice teased as he emerged from the other end of the alley, effectively leaving you no options for escape.

You were boxed in.

Shit.

"Let's not make this harder than it has to be," Geto said, his tone soft but firm. "You've got a choice. Come with us, or..."

"Or what?" You challenged, staring at him.

Gojo shifted a little, combing his silver hair out of his face only for it to flop back down. "Or we make you."

Your pulse thundered in your ears, much to your displeasure. "You think I'm scared of you?"

Gojo shrugged nonchalantly. "You should be."

You moved before they could. Your hand desperately went to the smoke bomb in your pocket, but Geto was faster. With a flick of his wrist, a thin wire lashed out, tangling around your wrist and pulling tight. You hissed in frustration as he yanked you, rendering you off balance.

"Sloppy," he said quietly, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Persistent," you hissed under your breath, twisting your body to free your other hand. You managed to grab a second knife you had on your belt and threw it at him. He dodged, but the slight movement loosened the wire just enough for you to break free.

Gojo clapped his slender hands slowly, sarcastically. "Damn, you're fun. I almost don't want to turn you in."

Geto frowned, obviously not pleased with his partner. "Satoru-"

"What?" Gojo grinned, tilting his head toward you. "Can you blame me? She's got the whole deadly-and-gorgeous thing going on. Kind of my type, y'know?"

You flinched, Gojo's words fluttering your heart more than you'd care to admit.

"Enough," Geto snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

You took the opportunity to leap for the nearest wall. kicking off it to gain just enough height to grab the fire escape above. Your nimble fingers grazed the cold metal, and you hoisted yourself up just as Gojo lunged for you.

"Catch y'all later," you called over your shoulder, your smirk returning back in place despite the ever pounding of your chest.

Gojo simply laughed, his voice echoing through the dark alley. "You'll have to do better than that, sweetheart!"

Neon signs of Tokyo flickered in the distance, casting an otherworldly glow on the streets below as you leapt from rooftop to rooftop. The cold air bit down on your face, but it didn't stop you from running as fast as you could. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, and the weight of their words echoed in your head like a broken record.

"You've got that deadly-and-gorgeous thing going on."

"You're human, no matter how perfect you pretend to be."

Why did their voices stick to you like that? You shouldn't care, not at all! You hated how Gojo's smugness got under your skin, hated how Geto's quiet intensity lingered like a shadow. Was it because they were handsome? It didn't matter anyways. You had bigger things to worry about than two men who saw you as a challenge-or worse, a toy.

As you made your way across the rooftops, you scanned for the nearest safe house Toji told you about. Your options were dwindling; their reach was extensive, and it felt like every move you made only led you closer to their impending web.

You slowed when you reached the edge of a rooftop, crouching low as your eyes darted across the street below. The sound of footsteps brought your focus to a man walking his dog, the only other soul out at this ungodly hour. His relaxed posture, the cute wag of the dog's tail, it was normal. Normalcy. Something you couldn't afford in the life you lead.

Just as you were about to leap to the next rooftop, your eye caught movement in the reflection of a glass building across the street.

"Clever," you muttered under your breath.

A figure moved in the shadows a few rooftops back. It was Geto-his tall, lean frame unmistakably recognizable even in the dark. You cursed under your breath. How the hell had he kept up with you?

Though something was wrong. Why was he alone? Where was Gojo?

Before you could react, a voice cut through the air behind you, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Looking for me?"

You whipped your head around, knife in hand, but  was already there, perched casually on the edge of the rooftop. His glasses were pushed up and resting on his head, revealing those piercing, unnaturally blue eyes that seemed to see through everything, including you.

"Damn it," you hissed, your grip tightening on the knife.

"Damn it?" Gojo repeated, grinning. "I'll take that as a compliment. People don't say that unless someone's really good."

"Don't flatter yourself." You held your tongue, desiring to curse at him.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Oh, but I'm so good at it."

"You're cornered," Geto's voice came from the shadows as he stepped forward, his ever calm demeanor as unearving as ever. "Again."

"Wow. The two of you are excellent at being a pain in the ass," you commented dryily.

"And you're good at running," Gojo countered, leaning back on his hands like he was lounging on the beach instead of hunting you down. "But you're getting predictable, sweetheart."

Predictable... Predictable? The words stung more than it should have. You prided yourself on being untouchable, on being the best, but they were starting to unravel you, but to your dismay.

"Give up," Geto said, his voice quiet yet commanding. "you're wasting energy. You know we'll find you wherever you go."

Your eyes darted between them, searching for a weakness in either of them, a distraction, anything. Though they were right. You were running out of time, and worse, you were running out of options.

"Why me?" you demanded, your voice sharp and impatient. "Why are you so obsessed with chasing me down? I might be your target, but there are others out there."

Gojo tilted his head, his smile softening ever so softly. "You're different, as we said earlier."

"That's not an answer."

Geto stepped closer, his dark purple eyes locking onto yours. "You don't need to know why. All you need to know is that we're not stopping until we get what we want."

What do they want? "And what's that?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment, heavy with tentionn. Geto didn't answer, nor did Gojo, but Gojo's grin returned, not reaching his eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Gojo teased.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You wouldn't give these bastards the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

"Well then," you said, taking a step back. "If you want me that badly, come and get me."

Geto didn't waste another second. He moved first, closing the distance between you with a speed that took your breath away. You barely had any time to react, raising your knife to swiftly block his strike.

The impact sent a jolt up your arm. Gritting your teeth, you pushed back against his strength. Just before you  could counter, Gojo was right behind you, his presence like a sadistic ghost at your back.

"Careful," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt, yeah?"

You spun around as fast as you could, lashing out your knife, but he was already gone, his laugh echoing around you.

You were out of breath. The relentless pursuit across the city left you drained. They'd forced you into a corner, their presence closing in on all sides. You crouched low on the rooftop, your knife glinting under the pale moonlight.

They're not playing anymore. You could feel it in the air-the shift in their tactics, the weight of their presence pressing down on you like a vice. They weren't going to let you run this time around. 

A faint sound behind you, a sharp intake of breath. You twisted on instinct, launching a knife toward the sound. It sliced through the air, aimed with precision, but Gojo caught it mid-flight, his fingers wrapping around the blade as if it were a child's toy.

"Come onn, sweetheart," Gojo fiend whining, tossing the knie aside like it was nothing. "You're not even trying anymore. Getting tired?"

You didn't answer, deciding to ignore him. Instead, you aimed for his ribs. But as you closed the distance, Geto stepped in a flash.

"No more running," Geto said, his voice firm. "This ends now."

"Didn't know you two were so desperate for attention," you spat, pivoting sharply to avoid geto's strike while aiming another at Gojo. He dodged with ease, leaning back with a grin as your blade passed a hair's breadth from his chest.

"We're desperate for you," Goji said smoothly, words rolling off his tongue with infuriating ease. His blue eyes gleamed with something dangerous "And you love it, don't you?"

"You're delusional as shit," you snapped, blocking a strike from Geto's punch and countering with a high kick aimed at his shoulder. He caught your leg mid-air, forcing you to twist and land in a crouch as he released you.

"I think you're the one who's delusional," Geto replied coldly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "You think you can keep going like this? Fighting us? Outrunning us? It's only a matter of time before you give in?"

"I'd rather die before I give in to either of you, bitch," you growled, pushing off the ground and aiming a flurry of strikes at both of them.

For a moment, it felt like you were holding your own. Knife against fist. They moved with a kind of synchronicity that made them impossible to predict, but you kept pushing, kept fighting, refusing to let them overwhelm you.

But then it happened-a misstep.

You swung your blade a little too wide, and Gojo caught your wrist in a vice-grip. His other hand shot forward, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you around just as Geto's fist struck down in an arc. The blunt force struck the back of your knee, and you crumpled down, forced to the ground with Gojo still holding your wrist like a prisoner.

"Let go!" you snarled, struggling against his grip. But he didn't. He simply knelt beside you, his breath brushing against your ear as he gazed down at you with unreadable eyes.

"Not until you're obedient," he said, his voice softer now, almost coaxing enough to make you fall for him. "You're not getting out of this. So why not make it easy on yourself?"

You glared up at him, craning your neck as best you could, your chest heaving with exertion. "Easy for you, you mean. What the hell do you want from me?"

"Everything," Geto answered, stepping in front of you and crouching so that you were eye level. His eyes were dark and unreadable, his Adam's apple so out, his sharp body a shape that any woman would growl over. "We want to know why you're so damn good at what you do. Who trained you? Why do you keep running? And why are you so hell-bent on protecting that boy?"

Your blood ran cold as soon as the mention of Megumi left his lips, but you didn't let it show. "What boy?" you asked, feigning confusion.

"Come on! Don't play dumb," Gojo, tightening his grip on your wrist. "We've been watching you. You're not just some assassin. You've got connections-dangerous ones. But you seem to have a soft spot. The kid's important to you, isn't he? Is it because of personal reasons or is it because your boss told you so?"

You clenched your teeth, refusing to respond. Every second of silence felt like a battle, their eyes boring down on you as if they could extract the truth by sheer willpower.

"Fine," Gojo said after a moment of silence, his tone light but laced with steel. "Don't want to talk? Then we'll just keep you here until you do."

"You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm staying," you shot back, twisting sharply to free yourself from Gojo's grasp. Though before you could stand, Geto was behind you, his arm locking around your shoulders and pinning you in place.

"Stay down," Geto murmured, his breath warm against your neck. "You've lost."

"I haven't lost shit," you hissed, struggling against him, but his hold was ever so unyielding, and you were exhausted. Every muscle in your body screamed in protest as you fought to break free.

Gojo crouched in front of you, his face so close you could see a faint scar above his brow. He tilted his hair, his pretty eyes scanning yours with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something you couldn't quite pin down.

"You're stubborn," he said, almost fondly. "I like that about you."

"You don't know a damn thing about me."

"Maybe not," Gojo admitted, his grin softening into something more sincere. "But I'd like to. And I think Suguru here would too."

You froze at his words, your mind racing. They weren't just chasing you for answers. This seemed personal, and that scared you more than anything. You clenched your teeth, staring at the two men before you. 

"You've got no idea how much trouble you're in, sweetheart," Gojo said with mock sympathy. He tilted his head, silver hair catching the neon lights of the city. "But, hey, if it's any consolation, I think you look great even when you're all out of breath."

Your scowl deepened, and you yanked your arm once again away from his grasp. "You're insufferable."

"Insufferable handsome?" Gojo quipped with a  wink, leaning closer. "I get that a lot, thanks."

"Or maybe just insufferably annoying," Geto said, his tone dry but with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Not that it's anything new."

"Aw, Suguru, don't be jealous," Gojo teased, throwing him a grin. "There's plenty of me to go around."

You groaned, confusion and irritation blooming. "You two are ridiculous. First you chase me down like some sort of mouse, all for a conversation? I don't know how anyone can take you seriously."

"People tend to take us very seriously when we're chasing them across rooftops," Geto countered, his calm, velvety voice laced with amusement. "Though I have to admit, you're making this chase far more interesting than most."

"Ha," you snapped, shifting slightly, testing the tension in your muscles as you calculated your next move. You were tired, but you weren't going down without a fight.

"Oh, don't pretend you haven't been entertained too," Gojo said, his grin widening. "Admit it-you've been having fun." He said in a sing-song tone.

"Fun?" you repeated incredulously, glaring at him in disgust. "You two have been hunting me like some sport. What about that sounds like fun?"

"Because you're the first person who's ever made us work this hard. Most people give up the moment they realize who they're dealing with," Geto replied. "But you... you keep fighting. It's impressive."

"Compliments. Oh, how thrilled I am," you muttered under your breath, earning a chuckle from Gojo. "It's exhausting."

"Poor thing," Gojo cooed mockingly, leaning down close enough that you swear his lips had to be centimeters away from your neck. "All worn out from running? If you surrender, I promise I'll carry you home, bridal style, if you're into that." That infuriating wink.

"Shut," you hissed, trying to pull away from him, but his hand shot out, his fingers grazing your chin to tilt your face toward him.

"Such fire," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. His usual playful tone was now gone, replaced with something softer, intense,  something that caused your stomach to flip. "You're cute."

"Satoru," Geto interrupted once again, his voice cutting through the moment. He reached out, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to your feet. You stumbled slightly, but his hand landed on the small of your back, easily keeping you steady. "We've wasted enough time. Let's go."

"Go?" you repeated, bristling like an irritated cat. "Where the hell do you think you're taking me?"

"Our place," Gojo said, standing and dusting off his pants like this was all completely normal. "Don't worry, we've got comfy couches. You can even have a blanket if you're nice."

You narrowed your eyes at him, glaring. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

“Do you really think you’re in a position to argue?” Geto’s voice was soft, almost deceptively calm, but the steel beneath it sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers tightened on your arm, pulling you closer with effortless strength, until the heat of his body radiated against yours. His dark eyes bore into yours, sharp and unyielding, as though daring you to defy him. “You’re out of options, and we both know it.”

The words cut through you like a blade. You hated how true they were. Every fiber of your being screamed to resist, to claw and fight your way out of this—but your limbs felt heavy, your breath uneven, and they both saw right through the mask of defiance you were struggling to keep intact.

Gojo crouched next to you, impossibly close, his ever-present grin softening into something almost predatory. His crystalline blue eyes sparkled with an unsettling mix of amusement and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place. “Don’t think of it as giving up,” he purred, his voice low, like a silk ribbon wrapping around your throat. “Think of it as… a tactical retreat. Or, if it helps, you can call it a hostage situation. That’s got a nice ring to it, right?”

Your jaw clenched, your glare cutting toward him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re gorgeous when you’re mad,” Gojo shot back, his grin widening, the playful lilt in his voice sending your pulse racing in frustration—and something else you didn’t dare acknowledge. “Seriously, has anyone ever told you that anger suits you? It’s cute.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, but the venom in your tone was undermined by the way your voice wavered. You hated how his words crawled under your skin, leaving behind a trail of heat you couldn’t ignore.

Before you could pull away, Geto’s hand shifted, his long fingers catching your chin and tilting your face upward, forcing your gaze to meet his. His touch was firm but surprisingly gentle, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. “Enough games, Satoru,” he said, his deep voice steady but edged with something almost possessive. His eyes locked on yours, darker than the night around you, and for a moment, it felt like he was looking right through you—peeling back every layer, exposing everything you tried to hide.

But he didn’t move away. Instead, his gaze lingered, and in that moment, something in his expression shifted. The sharpness softened, replaced by a flicker of intrigue, of something far more dangerous. It made your breath hitch, your pulse stuttering in your chest as the seconds stretched endlessly.

And then, slowly, deliberately, he leaned in.

The kiss wasn’t what you expected—not demanding, not harsh. It was barely a kiss at all, just the lightest brush of his lips against the corner of your mouth. But it was enough to leave you stunned, your mind blanking as warmth bloomed where his lips had touched. Enough to leave your heart pounding erratically in your chest.

“Call that motivation,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, his breath ghosting over your skin. There was an almost smug curve to his lips as he pulled back, his dark eyes unreadable. “Now, let’s go.”

You didn’t have time to process the shock flooding your system before Gojo let out a low whistle, his grin downright sinful. “Suguru, you dog. You can’t just kiss her and act like that’s normal.” He stood in one fluid motion, towering over you, and his gaze flicked to you with a teasing glint. “Now I have to do something, or it’ll look like you’re showing me up.”

Before you could snap at him—or even catch your breath-Gojo leaned down, his hand brushing against your cheek as he tilted your face toward him. His grin was still there, but his eyes were sharp now, intense in a way that made your stomach twist.

“Don’t look so nervous,” he whispered, his voice low, almost tender. And then he kissed you–softly, lingering just long enough to leave you reeling. His lips were warm and maddeningly gentle, the faintest trace of something sweet lingering behind.

When he pulled away, his grin returned, but there was a seriousness in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. “Now we’re even,” he said lightly, though the weight of his stare told you there was nothing casual about what had just happened.

You sat there, frozen, your mind spinning as the two men straightened and exchanged a glance-something unspoken passing between them. You hated how they seemed to be in perfect sync, how they could take apart your defenses so effortlessly.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Gojo said, offering you his hand, his grin teasing but his tone carrying an edge of finality. “We’re taking you home.”

“Home?” you echoed, your voice faint, barely able to process the word.

“Our home,” Geto corrected, his voice steady and commanding. He stepped behind you, his hand brushing against your lower back, urging you to your feet. “And I’d suggest you don’t try anything stupid. You’re smart enough to know how that’ll end.”

Your legs felt like jelly, but you forced yourself to stand, glaring at both of them even as your resolve wavered. “I hate you both,” you muttered, though you weren’t sure if it was the truth.

Gojo chuckled, slinging an arm around your shoulders like this was all some kind of game. “Aw, you’ll love us soon enough,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “Everyone does.”

As they began leading you away, you couldn’t stop the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest-anger, frustration, confusion… and something far more dangerous that you weren’t ready to name.

And despite yourself, you couldn’t shake the warmth lingering on your lips, or the terrifying realization that this was far from over.

——

The drive to their place was silent, the tension floating in the air was palpable. You sat in the backseat of the sleek black car, sandwiched between the two handsome men. The proximity was stifling, their presence too overwhelming, and the warmth radiating from their bodies only made the situation worse. Gojo was as relaxed as ever, one arm draped lazily along the back of the seat behind you while Geto sat with perfect posture, his sharp eyes occasionally glancing your way. Part of you was curious to know how two polar opposite men could work so well in a team together. Perhaps the saying 'opposites attract' was true.

When they pulled into the driveway of their house, your jaw nearly dropped at the sight. The property was secluded, surrounded by tall trees and hidden away from prying eyes. The house itself was modern and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a sprawling front yard that screamed wealth and power. 

Part of you had an intuition that Gojo owned multiple homes while you were keeping an eye on Megumi, but you never guessed he would own a house this gorgeous.

"You two live here?" you asked, unable to keep the disbelief from your voice. Despite working alongside Toji, you weren't as poor as him since you knew how to manage your money. You were comfortable, but obviously not as comfortable as either of them. Damn.

"Of course," Gojo said, grinning as he slid out of the car and opened your door with an exaggerated bow. "Only the best for the best."

Geto rolled his eyes as he stepped out and gestured for you to follow. "Ignore him. He loves showing off.'

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. Running definitely wasn't one of them, you exhausted that option, so with a resigned sigh, you followed them inside.

The interior was just as impressive as the exterior. The open floor plan showcased sleek furniture, expensive artwork, and a kitchen that looked like it belonged in a high-end restaurant. It was annoyingly perfect, just like Gojo and Geto. How irritating.

Geto led you to the living room and gestured for you to sit on the plush couch with a strong, veiny hand. "You'll be staying here for now," he said, his voice calm and measured. "We have to keep an eye on you as we investigate you for a bit. Know who exactly you are, your motives, and why you are tasked with keeping an eye on the boy Satoru adopted. You'll have everything you need, and no one will find you."

"Generous of you," you muttered, crossing your arms as you sat down with a huff. Perfect. You didn't think to send a help call to Toji while you were fighting them, and now you were going to disappear for a bit. You'll get quite the scolding when you see Toji again.

Geto's lips twitched into a faint smile while he observed your irritation. "It's the least he can do after chasing you halfway across the city."

"Ah, don't listen to him, sweetheart," Gojo interjected, flopping down on the couch beside you, on the same cushion, his long legs sprawled out. "We both know you loved the attention. Admit it-you've never had this much fun before."

You clicked your tongue, shooting him your signature glare. "You're insufferable."

"And you're adorable when you're annoyed," Gojo quipped back, leaning closer. His voice melted into a playful whisper, his breath brushing against your ear, causing a shiver down your spine. "Admit it-you kind of like me, don't you? It wasn't just Megumi who you were keeping an eye on, eh?"

"Satoru," Geto said sharply, his tone a warning.

"What?" Gojo shrugged, pulling back just enough to flash his partner a grin. "I'm just breaking the ice."

Geto's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might actually snap from his partner's antics. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softening. "I meant what I said earlier. We're sorry for chasing you. It wasn't personal-it was a job."

You blinked, slightly caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "You have quite the fun of showing it," you muttered, those the venom in your tone had dampened.

Geto's lips curled into a small smile, one that was genuine. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "you're impressive," he said in his deep, velvety tone, his dark eyes locking into yours. "More than I expected. that's why you're still alive, by the way."

Before you could even respond, Gojo let out a low chuckle. "Wow, Suguru, way to charm her. Nothing says 'I'm into you' like, 'You should be dead, but you're not.'"

geto's gaze flicked to Gojo, his smile fading slightly. "And your approach is better?"

Gojo simply grinned, undeterred. "Absolutely. Watch and learn."

Huh?

He turned back to you, his hand suddenly brushing against yours where it rested on your plush thighs. The touch was light, almost accidental, but it sent a jolt through you nevertheless. "We must make a good team, right? I mean, we caught you, Japan's best assassin. That's gotta count for something."

You rolled your eyes, trying your best to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his proximity to your thigh. "Congrats. Do you want a medal?"

"I'd settle for a kiss," Gojo said, winking.

"Don't push your luck," you shot back, though the corners of your mouth betrayed a faint twitch upward.

geto's eyes darkened as he watched the exchange, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He leaned back, his arms draping casually over the back of the couch next to you, but there was nothing casual about the way his gaze lingered on you, capturing every curve your body had to offer.

"So what's it going to be?" Geto asked, his voice low and smooth, just for you to hear. "Are you going to keep pretending you're not enjoying this, or are you finally going to admit that you don't hate us as much as you'd like to?"

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat as Geto shifted closer. His presence was magnetic, and the intensity in his eyes made it hard to look away.

Gojo, never one who wants to be outdone, mirrored his partner's movement, leaning in on your other side. "Careful, Suguru," he said, his tone playful yet carrying a sharp edge to it. "you're starting to sound possessive to the sweetie here."

Geto smirked, his gaze flicking briefly to Gojo before returning to you. "Maybe I am. Who knows?"

The air between the three of you grew heavy, charged with an unspoken challenge. As much as you hated to admit it, the thought of being caught between these two beans was becoming harder and harder to resist with each passing heartbeat. 

"So, what now?" you asked, cursing to yourself at how quiet your voice was, waiting in hidden anticipation.

"Now," Geto said, his hand brushing against yours with deliberate slowness, "we make sure you understand just how serious we are."

 Gojo's grin turned wicked, and he leaned even closer, his warm breath fanning against your cheek. "And maybe, just maybe, you'll realize you're better off with us than against us, especially when you work for Toji."

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. Of course they knew who you worked for. They were probably feigning ignorance when they pestered you with all of those previous questions. 

Gojo's lips were a whisper away from yours, hot breath trickling against your skin. His hand curled under your jaw, tilting your face upward as his thumb brushed along your lower lip.  Your body betrayed you, leaning instinctively into his touch, but a dark chuckle from Geto pulled your attention back to him. His hand slid deliberately from your hip to your waist, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"You shouldn't let him have all the fun, you know," Geto said, his voice smooth and velvety, vibrating against your neck as he leaned in just as close as Gojo was. His lips grazed your skin, just below your ear, leaving the faintest of kisses. "He tends to get greedy."

"And you don't?" you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as your heart pounded within your chest.

Geto smirked against your skin, his breath hot against yours. "Maybe, but I've always been better at sharing."

Gojo's grin widened at that, a flash of mischief in his blue eyes. "She's not wrong, Suguru~. You can get pretty greedy-just in quieter ways." The way everything felt, how they touched you, how their gaze lingered a little longer than it should. It made you feel a certain way, a feeling that you couldn't bury even if you tried-not when you were sandwiched between two hot men who captured you.

You want them. No, you need them. holding back and pretending was just too much for you to bear anymore.

Gojo's gaze lingered on your soft lips, admiring them, and a female of lust burned deeply within him. His lips finally claimed yours the second time that night, soft at first, then pressing harder as his confidence grew. His kiss was beautifully dizzying, a mix of passion and playfulness that left you breathless.

Before you could wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed closer to you, before you could lose yourself entirely to him, Geto tugged you back, his fingers brushing along your jawline as he forced you to lock eyes with his sharp gaze. His eyes burned with intensity, darker and more calculated lust than Gojo's wild energy. "Don't forget about me," he muttered before his lips captured yours.

"Hey! Suguru!" came Gojo's whiney voice as he clung onto the dip of your hips, his thumb making soothing circles as your lips were getting devoured by his partner.

Geto's kiss was different-slower, deeper, more deliberate. The way his hand slid up made it clear he wasn't in any sort of rush. his thumb stroked the side of your throat, eliciting a quiet gasp that only turned him on, causing a throaty groan to escape only to be muffled by your lips.

When you pulled back, your lips tingling and your breath uneven, you were beginning to be acutely aware of both men-the way Gojo's slender fingers trailing along the hem of your shirt, Geto's veiny still resting firmly against your throat, squeezing it just enough. Their touches were possessive yet teasing, as if silently daring you to take the lead.

You tried every bit of your fiber to resist them, but you were far too deep in the rabbit hole to back out now. You bit your lip, a soft whimper slipping past as Gojo tugged your shirt a little higher, revealing your bra. With dancing fingers, he unhooked it and let his hand teasingly roam across your boobs, while Geto's mouth pressed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck.

"Don't keep us waiting, sweetheart," Gojo murmured, his voice thick with desire as his tongue flicked your already hard nipples. "Tell us what you want.”

Part 2 when??? If you want one, ask in the comments

[freyito]

you asked for gallagher asks and as an official gallagher simp and death denier i am here to oblige. how about gallagher finds someone flirting with reader while they were waiting for him and gallagher gets all pouty and jealous as he picks them up and takes them away bc theyre his partner dammit!! i am a firm gallagher is a clingy baby in a relationship believer

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn reader

✩ inspo: Real Man by beabadoobee

✧ a/n: i took a little bit of a different direction with this... but its still jealousy all the same :D!! i, too, think he's clingy... but also like scary dog privileges and all that yk...

also! i have a strawpage now!!! i mainly made it for my selfship blog (that i'm still regrettably working on) BUT ITS THERE!!! ITS A THING1!! and also ASKS ARE OPEN NOW!!! YAAAAAY!!! remember to read my rules for asks... and since this seems to be a common theme, i DONT write for fem reader :), just gn and male. i also dont answer nsfw asks on this account.

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, the guy is a creep, mentions of alcohol, guard dog gallagher -> puppy gallagher p much, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.4k

ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴍᴀɴ

He finds it laughable that some people would even try. Gallagher knows full well what the people of Penacony are like, and yet he never expected for such things to happen. Or, for him to get as jealous as he did. Even if it was clear that you were the apple of his eye, when you and him were very clearly having a nice little conversation– about a date, no less.

Now, he understands that a lot of people– even you, when he first met you– thought Penacony was the perfect paradise. Underneath all that glitz and glamour, though, it was the lowest of the low, the highest population was the sleazebags. Assholes who would swoop in and try and charm their way to your heart, only to run off with all manners of things you wouldn’t want to part with. Or, they would try to use you, take advantage of your better heart. The smarter ones stayed around the longest, sucked you dry of all your possessions, wealth, and even kindness, and left without a word to find their next victim to drain.

But the bolder ones of that population; those are the ones that truly pissed Gallagher off. Like the asshole in front of him, leaning in so close to you that you could smell the alcohol on his breath, hurling all sorts of pick up lines and sickening names at you that bordered on insults. There was no way this man was that bold. The fact that he’d look over at Gallagher every couple of seconds, the fact that he would even include Gallagher in such talk was horrendous.

‘You’ve got quite the fine catch, here.’

‘Come now, I ain’t as bad as he is, I promise.’

‘I can make all sorts of dreams come true, sweetie.’

‘I’m sure your man here wouldn’t mind sharing a little…’

If Gallagher wasn’t on the clock, he’d make sure this man would get his jaw rearranged. But he isn’t a brute, and he’s much more sophisticated than that. Though, he believes if he shows this man mercy, he’d go find some other poor soul to harass. Then again, it is also his job to make sure such things like this get punished. How unfortunate for this man to have no Bronze Melodia to read him his last rites.

With a superficial grin and barely restrained anger, he leans over the counter and catches the man’s attention. He doesn’t say much, if at all anything. He really only gives the guy a look, furrowed brows, a scowl, and the man quickly got up from his seat and ran off with his tail between his legs. 

Once Gallagher’s sure the man has given you two enough space (and is avoiding anyone else in the bar), he looks over at you with a much more docile, gentle smile.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice a low, near comforting purr. He reaches for your hand and takes it in his own, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I’m fine,” You nod, “I just think he could definitely brush his teeth better.”

“Well, if you want me to kick him out, I don’t mind doing that,” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Or worse. Whichever you prefer.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I promise,”

“Okay, okay. But the offer still stands,” He looks back over to where the man ran off too, finding him huddled in a booth, as far as possible from the bar. Yet, the man was still nervously staring over at Gallagher, his earlier bravado completely dissipated. Gallagher meets his eyes for a moment, and he can see the man flinch.

You follow Gallagher’s gaze for a moment, before he cuts you off with a kiss to your cheek. You open your mouth to say something, but he catches your lips with his, pressing a borderline sensual kiss to your lips. You don’t protest, and melt into the kiss. You could ask yourself why he was doing this, seeing as he was a man who would stop PDA at holding your hand. Usually, the kinds of kisses were reserved for your privacy… or when he wants to make a point.

When you pull away, you feel your head spin a little. Gallagher chuckles and squeezes your hand, looking back over to the booth. Before he cna gauge the man’s reaction, he realizes that Siobahn has rounded to the bar. 

“Oh, shift change, perfect!” He hums, pulling away all too quickly to greet Siobahn and clock out. You raise your eyebrow as he does so, downing your drink and standing up. 

Normally, he finds an excuse to stay just a little longer, just one more drink, and so on. But now, he’s keen to leave. Which you don’t mind, but you can’t help but wonder why he’s like this. Either he wants to get off the clock as soon as possible so he’s not liable for what happens to that man, or he wants to whisk you away from that man’s sight and make sure you feel better. Both are quite endearing, in their own ways.

He rounds the bar counter, coming to your side and placing a hand on the small of your back. He ushers you out of the bar with a soft ‘c’mon’, making sure to stay close to you. You were practically hip-to-hip with him, every now and then his hand would reach for your shoulder and pull you in closer when someone looked at you for a second longer. It’s kind of cute, the way he’s protective of you. At the same time, he feels more like a clingy puppy, nosing his way into your hand when you give someone else too much attention.

When you two get home, Gallagher scoops you up in his arms with a grunt of effort, he makes his way to the couch. You don’t even have time to react, all your mind can come up with is a giggle as he sits down, setting you down in his lap. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder, hands splaying over your stomach.

“Mh, just like how it's supposed to be,” He murmurs, an air of… nostalgia in his voice?

“What do you mean by that?” You tilt your head, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. In turn, he hides his face in the crook of your neck, muttering something you can’t quite catch. His stubble paired with his words succeeds in only making you laugh, squirming in his arms.

“Noooo…” He whines pitifully, pulling you up closer against him, like your squirming was an attempt to get away. “Lemme just hold you. For a minute. Max. Please?”

“I never said you couldn’t, you’re just–” You squirm again, reaching up and cupping his face. “– making it impossible to sit still.”

“M’sorry,” He apologizes for no particular reason. After another moment of hiding in your neck, he finally pulls away and leans back against the couch. “Y’know… I could’ve punched him. Probably still can, bet that asshole’s still at the bar.”

“I told you it was fine, I’m fine,”

“I know, but the offer still stands. I could find him in an hour. Or less.”

“Well I appreciate the thought, but I’d rather you not resort to violence,”

Gallagher tilts his head further into your palm, looking back up at you as if to verify that what you said was true. You simply look down with a smile, and his face softens, accepting your answer.

“Okay. But you know if anyone does anything like that you can tell me, right? Even if I'm at work and you’re… shopping, or whatever, you can call me. I can play the hero. I’d like to, you know,”

You laugh and lean back scratching at his scruff. This earns you a soft ‘hmph’ in return, eyes closing with satisfaction. He’s happy if you’re happy, it’s always been this way. Gallagher knows the beauty he holds in his arms at this very moment, and that knowledge gives him quite the ego boost. He’s a humble man, and he always does his best not to let pride or anything of the sort go to his head. But he can’t help it when some people get too cocky, when he’s able to chase them away with just a look. Not that it was enough for him– clearly, he had to make his point– but there is a certain pride to keeping one’s lover safe, and letting someone so bold know just who your heart belongs to.

© freyito, 2025 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | strawpage | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[ribbonedreverie]

I adore your writing style. It makes me want to read everything you’ve ever written and it’s rare that I find something that resonates so much with me.

I don’t know if this is a request you’d accept but would you mind doing one of those “he won’t say I love you” for Ranpo? Your understanding of the characters is amazing. And I want to get better at conveying it like you do!

Ranpo Edogawa – “You Already Know”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Ranpo doesn’t say “I love you.”

Ranpo does not waste words on things he finds obvious. Love, to him, is not a puzzle to be solved or a riddle to be unraveled—it is simply fact. Something he has already decided, something he expects you to have figured out long before the thought even crosses your mind.

That’s why he won’t say he loves you.

Because why would he? You already know, don’t you?

He is a man who sees everything, who notices every flicker of emotion, every unspoken thought, every tiny movement you don’t even realize you’re making. So, of course, he assumes you can do the same.

You don’t need him to say it. It’s written in the way he lingers a little too long when he leans against you, in the way his fingers toy with the sleeve of your shirt, in the way he makes himself comfortable in your space like he belongs there.

He won’t say he loves you.

But you’ll hear it in the way he sighs dramatically whenever you try to focus on something other than him. You’ll see it in the way he pouts when you don’t play along with his antics. You’ll feel it in the way he doesn’t demand your attention—he simply expects it, because it has always been his.

He won’t say he loves you.

But when he steals your snacks, he always leaves you the last bite. When you’re tired, he wordlessly hands you his favorite candy—the one he never shares with anyone else. When you’re nervous, he teases you just enough to make you smile, just enough to make you forget why you were anxious in the first place.

And when you fall asleep beside him, he doesn’t move away. Doesn’t shift, doesn’t complain, doesn’t even pretend he minds. He just lets you stay.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he will trust you, and that is something he does not give easily. He lets you see him in the quiet moments, in the stillness between his usual arrogance and mischief, in the rare seconds when the world slows down and he is simply Ranpo—not a detective, not a genius, just someone who likes the way you feel beside him.

He won’t say he loves you.

But if you ever tell him you’re not sure if he cares, he will only scoff, rolling his eyes, like you’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world.

“You really need me to say it?” He clicks his tongue, nudging his foot against yours beneath the table. “Tch. I thought you were smarter than that.”

He won’t say he loves you.

But he will smirk, pop another piece of candy in his mouth, and lean in just close enough for you to hear the quiet amusement in his voice when he murmurs—

“I guess you’re not as good at reading me as I thought.”

And that? That is the closest thing to a confession you will ever get.

Because Ranpo Edogawa doesn’t say I love you.

But you already know.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Thank you so much! This was actually my first time writing for Ranpo, so I was really hoping I could capture his character properly—I hope you enjoy it! I really appreciate your request; it was so much fun to write, and your support means the world to me. Thank you for reading! ♡

[icedb1ackcoffee]

to my fellow creatives: never stop making art. art is an act of protest.

[quaranmine]

On Wednesday before I gave my presentation I confessed to a new employee that I was worried it would be too long and she brightly told me her life hack was to just let AI rewrite things for her. She said I should put in all my talking points and ask ChatGPT to give me a five minute exactly presentation. I was like....how is the most polite possible way (since this is a new colleague I shouldn't get off on the wrong foot with) that I can express that I will Not be taking this advice. Ever. I told her that I didn't think we were allowed to use ChatGPT at this job (we most certainly are not, it is a nightmare for any type of protected information) and also that I prefer to write all of my own work. Despite my best efforts the last part of that was still passive aggressive, lol.

Something about being a writer makes it so that it's almost offensive to me for someone to suggest I use AI to do my work instead? Like, the day I reach the point where I let AI write something for me is the day y'all need to be checking me for brain damage because clearly I'm losing it

[8nigiris-spam]

I discovered TiO2 is used as a food color (banned in Europe). now guess who's the TiO2 in Houseki no kuni.

[child-of-hurin]

.

alex garland's civil war is one of those movies where my experience watching it seems so different from everyone else's (even the writer-director's!), it's one of those alienating experiences... It sucks because I would love to talk more about it, because I think it's a very meaningful and intriguing work, but no review seems particularly insightful.

Another annoying point is that none of the things that, for better or for worse, truly bothered me about that movie seem to have bothered anyone else... For example, it's over a month since I watched it and I'm still in shock with that long, slow shot of a black man catching fire. It's such a strong, disturbing scene, I could not watch it, had to close my eyes and i was and still am so offended, and I never see anyone discussing what it means in the narrative, either as a meaningful artistic choice or as aggressive, cheap, potentially racist provocation (two things that coexist, of course)

[godsfavoritescientist]

Biting the bars of my enclosure about autistic ford tonight. There's something about him using vocabulary and turns of phrase that seem "outdated" or "pretentious" that feels so painfully genuine to me. When people say he talks like that just to "try to sound smart" I wish I could explain what it's like to be so ostracized from your peers growing up that you spend all your time reading instead, to the point where you pick up your way of speaking from books instead of from people. And then what it's like for people to call you out for "talking weird" over and over again, not able to wrap their heads around why the fuck you would choose more archaic or technical or formal words than the simpler ones that surely come to everyone's minds first. What it's like to have to dedicate a sizable chunk of attention to filtering through every single word you say out loud in real time before you say it, to make absolutely sure that it isn't a word people will judge you for using or make fun of you for using, just so you'll have a chance of being taken seriously. Learning through trial and error how to filter out the words that other people don't think are normal or casual enough for the conversation, even though for you, the word choice that's "natural-sounding" enough for them is the third or fourth word you came up with when searching for the right way to phrase something in your head. I wish I could explain just how long it takes to say fucking anything after spending a lifetime doing that during every single conversation, and how repetitive and long-winded you end up being when you spend so long coming up with alternative ways of saying every little thing you ever think. And I wish people realized that, at the very least for autistic people and autistic-coded characters, speech that's seen as pretentious is really just the way they talk when they're not putting in the extra effort to filter through every word they say just so others will take the time to listen.

[synthshenanigans]

How dare he release a banger cover of one of my favorite songs ever at 4am where I cant yell, I hate him so much why

[charliextea]

has it ever occurred to anyone that the black and white thinking of anti-/pro- language is a trauma response and we all probably need therapy? and like, life is not actually black and white almost ever??? because human beings are complicated? and forcing yourself to pick a side and draw a line in the sand all the time is probably really bad for our mental health collectively?

[im2tired4usernames]

You know if your church has an attitude that child education is a waste of time because God and revolutions is coming anytime and the world's just gonna end so the children don't need to waste time to know math and that you need to train them up right they just need to study the Bible and love God your church is lit just a dooms day cult and not even trying to hide it

[gnometa233]

This might be a hot take because I know everyone is the most knowledgeable about themselves but sometimes I think people just have "complex genders" for the sake of having complex genders and making things more complicated for themselves. And half of that complexity comes from the outside pressure of gender roles and misogyny.

[februarys-wednesday]

god nothing will ever give me the feeling that i got at 12 years old watching this scene for the first time. i cant even put it into words like oh my god . like this set the standard for little me's expectations of romance my GOD!!!!! this is how u write a relationship subplot i cant even put into words how good this scene is

you cant tell me that this is not like the best scene fucking ever needs 1009999737822829 awards

[hyperanaemia]

This is a complete non-issue, but a pet peeve of mine in batfam fics is how people describe the accents (or lack thereof). Like, I keep seeing people say such-and-such character (read: Jason) has a "thick Gothamite" accent and then contrast that to another character (usually Tim or Bruce) to say they have a clear "upper-class Gotham" accent. On one hand, I get the want to do a bit of world-building. And wanting to describe the economic differences between the characters. But at the same time. What is this, London? Idk, maybe it's just me but I don't feel like there's a significant difference between the "Standard" American accent and how the Upper Class in America talk. (aside from maybe vocabulary and that's more about access to education) And more specifically for Tim. Even if you're trying to say there's a difference in how the high society of Gotham talks from everyone else. The Drakes have been described as new money multiple times. So I doubt he'd have a noticeable accent. Also, is there really a need to have a unique accent in Gotham when it's literally in New Jersey? Even when fics go out of their way to say the characters have noticeable accents. I rarely see them describe how it sounds or use any unique sayings or slang. I personally doubt the people of Gotham would even sound all that different from the rest of New Jersey. While reading people phonetically type out thick accents is a different kind of hell. If you're going to say the characters in Gotham have accents for world-building purposes, there are so many videos of people talking about the slang and phrases unique to that area so why not use them?

[welcometogrouchland]

*twirling my hair* do you like cassandra cain? if not, do u have a moment to hear about our lord and saviour cassandra cain?

CASSANDRA CAIN MY LOVE!!! She's definitely the batgirl I've read the most in terms of full issues, the first 30-ish issues of her solo by Kelly Puckett Scott Peterson and Damion Scott had me hooked and I binged them but fell off after Horrocks came on (nothing against him, he was just given an editorial mandate to make the book more romance focused and it turned me off because it felt so ooc for Cass to me lol. I do own some of the issues he wrote tho! I like the ones with art by Rick Leonardi). I'm not really caught up with modern comics (ish??) And I'm not reading anything dedicatedly but I hear she's in a new original book teaming up with a magic user? Neat! Good for her. I love her in the shadow of the batgirl graphic novel (IT'S SO GOOD)

[tonyglowheart]

reading thru old meta posts on qian qiu and there's like, some stuff I agree with sure but there's also a lot I don't lol. w like yan wushi especially. there's a lot of. I think too much conventional-mindedness in approaching yws even from the ppl who did like him as a character. saying he's a difficult character, and is meant to be a difficult character, but then still framing him along more conventional moral frameworks. yet another apartment 'complex'? strange, I find it quite simple moments.