#there are people around you who are willing to listen

[luminique]

hii hii lumii !! I ADORE your interpretation of lighter so far— I love him smm

anyways, I hope my req is okay but I was wondering if you could do a comfort fic ? maybe reader has been a lil distant lately and just in some feels and he gives them a lil talk after being blown off here and there to find out they were having issues w their mental health and not feeling good enough and maybe he’s caught off guard because reader is usually so out going and always has a smile on their face and to see them feel so small makes him wanna take care of them so much and gives them so much reassurance and gentle kisses and cuddles 👉👈

I hope it’s okay !! I’ve been in the feels lately

hi anonn !! im gonna answer this one first because i've been in the feels too and i think we all deserve some reassurance, especially after all of the sad lighter story.

i don't take lighter for the kind to be too intrusive. that's not to say that he doesn't notice the way you're staring off into the distance, as if always having something on your mind. or the way you left earlier than usual for the SoC's nightly hangouts around the fire. or the way you had just been distancing yourself from him.

maybe you just needed a day, or two, and so he waited. he waited, and waited, but it just seemed like it was getting worse. he was beginning to get anxious, coming up with possibilities and worse case scenarios. even his favorite grape-flavored lollipop couldn't reduce the anxiety that was building up inside of him as he followed after you one night.

he shook off his nerves, spending quite a bit of time at the front door of your lodging while in blazewood. mentally practicing what to say so that he wouldn't make things even worse than they already were. one step, two deep breaths, three knocks on your door. he cleared his voice, usually confident and smooth but now carried a hint of worry in it.

"hey, uh... everything alright?"

you could hear the ruffling of his jacket, the soft metal clinks of his gloves. he didn't dare open the door until you allowed him to, so he waited, just like he always had. "lighter? yeah, everything's fine," was that a slight crack in your voice? no, no, he had to have imagined that. he knew it was wrong but he had waited long enough. he turned the knob, opening the door just a little bit but still not walking in.

"you don't have to tell me everything. just... know that i'll be here, waiting for you." he wasn't the best at comforting, nor was he good at even navigating these sorts of things but at the very least, he wanted you to have the knowledge that you had him. it didn't take long for you to finally get up, opening the door that separated the both of you. you looked so... different. the light absent from your eyes, the edges of your lips normally turned upwards but now they weren't. if he couldn't say what you wanted to hear, maybe you'd understand through his actions.

his arms wrapped around you. squeezing you just a little tighter than usual as he somehow made the both of you waddle backwards into your room. he had kept his gloves in his pants, not wanting to hurt you even more with them. his embrace was a familiar warmth, like the fire during particularly cold nights in the outer ring. you could hear his heart racing, was it from nervousness? anxiety? fear? even he didn't know.

he took this as an opportunity to place soft kisses on the top of your head but then stopped all of a sudden. he turned around to the door and realized that it was still wide open. he kicked it close with his foot, feeling embarrassed at the fact that he had to stop because of something so minor. he wanted you to feel safe, to have privacy, to be able to breathe without others barging in. technically, he had invaded this space of yours but you were slowly melting into him, as if you had been waiting for this too.

every passing second hugging you, kissing you, it made his own worries disappear. he hoped the same for you as you slowly spoke to him about your own problems. as he listened, he'd pause every once in while to give you a deadpan stare. not because he was making fun of you or anything, but it genuinely baffled him how you could say such things about yourself. you felt so insecure about yourself and your image, about being with him, being with the SoC. he had to physically stop himself from just blurting "i love you" every time you said something so degrading.

instead, he chose to wait and listen. his calloused hands gently caressing yours, his lips pressing kisses on the side of your head as you nuzzled into him. he loves you for who you are, the person in front of him, not the image that you had made yourself out to be in your mind. but he waits for you to let it all out before he says anything else. he will wait, he will listen, he will always be there for you.

[evieelyzabethh]

"what dreams are made of"

⭒"sunsets or something, aren't you lovely" ⭒~ crush phase Arcane head cannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw fem!reader, massive amounts of fluff, slightly pervy jayce, not beta read

an ☞i know this blog has been very Buffy related for a bit but i wanted to try something new. Not that Buffy is abandoned forever, i just wanted to write for more than one fandom

♞Vi ♞

♞Vi tells herself she doesn't have a crush on you, nay, she doesn't even believe in crushes. She thinks they are childish and beneath her and would never even admit she has one. That being said, she is definitely "sweet" on you as Vander would've called it. Vi when having a crush would be an absolute disaster, and this she would be more than willing to admit on her own. Her words never seem to come out right, and even when they do, they're never taken the way she means. She said it herself, when presented a set of options, she somehow always manages to chose the wrong one. For a relationship with Vi to work, you would have to be patient.

♞She certainly doesn't know when enough is enough. She will hang outside of your place of employment, be it the Last Drop or Babette's and insist you allow her to walk you home. Her fists are the one thing she's confident in because there is no nuance in fighting. She doesn't think it's possible for you to be upset with her for beating the shit out of the guy who looked at you funny and would be confused when you get mad at her for this. It's not even that she thinks you are incapable of taking care of yourself, that's just the only way she can think to protect you without it going wrong (and it sometimes still does)

♞She would be into old school chivalry. In a modern, less serious AU, I think she would be the type to stand outside your house with a boombox to apologize because she accidentally shrunk your favorite expensive sweater in the wash. Even within Arcane, I think if she was feeling soft and comfortable enough, she would be the type to carry you over puddles so your shoes didn't get wet or throw stones at your window to get your attention. Not even to go on a big adventure, just to sit on a rooftop and to listen to her hum.

♞I don't think she'd be into getting her crush flowers. She's one of those types who is already hyper exposed to death and wouldn't want to get you anything that has the potential to die. She's not above having Jinx make you some trinket and trying to lie that she made it to impress you, but you know that it's not her handiwork. She does try, though, her and her sticky fingers. Anything your gaze lingers too long on somehow finds its way into your room with a handwritten note from her (her handwriting is shit by the way)

♞As stated above, she is terrible with words yet is most romantic in the most unexpected moments. She is totally the type to hang around doorframes just to lean on them and subtly flex. Does this work? No, but it's funny to see her try and be suave. She succeeds in smaller ways. She is always watching. She notices the small changes in the ways you look at her, knowing when you're trying not to laugh or need her to rescue you from a terrible conversation. The slightly deeper baritone she puts on when she asks, "you alright, pretty?", the way she guides you by the small of your back on instinct. She one of those people who is naturally hot and doesn't realize she doesn't need to try (and don't let her find out she'll be insufferable).

♞I don't think she would confess on her own, it's far more likely you'll have to do it yourself. She would get in her head too much, and her communication skills are awful. She worries that she'll hurt you and won't know how to fix it. She knows relationships are harder work than friendships and she is not confident in her abilities to handle all the responsibility that comes with that. She's reckless with her livelihood, but never you and your wellbeing. Even after a confession, it would take a lot of reassurance that she wouldn't destroy everything.

✭Ekko✭

✭I don't think a crush phase with Ekko would last all that long, especially if it's developed after the Firelight society. I think he's far more self-assured than Vi is and wouldn't see the point in dancing around a relationship. If he wants you and you want him, why make things complicated if they don't need to be. For these reasons, I think he would crush from a far rather than it being a friends to lovers type relationship.

✭Ekko is sappy, let that be known. The first time he sees you time stops. If he's figured out his machine, he may just rewind time to stare at you for a second longer. He becomes a mini-stalker, not breaking into your house or anything, but slyly asking if anyone knows you, where you came from, why he's never seen you before, if you're single? Scar makes fun of him for this, of course, but encourages and indulges him with all he knows

✭The glimpses he sees of you make his whole week. Those short moments you pass by him in a crowd, or he sees you playing with children or passing around food, and he curses himself every time for freezing instead of taking action. And when he does take action, Scar is somewhere around the corner eavesdropping on the conversation and nearly choking on his own laughter when he hears Ekko's opening line, "Tree." Just "Tree". He had meant to say more than that, but when you looked at him, his mind went blank and all he could manage was "Tree" and died inside as you looked up at him confused. Like Vi, he too would stumble over his words at first, or even worse, fall victim to a terribly timed voice crack. He tries to cover it with a cough, but there's really no coming back from that.

✭Lucky for Ekko (who still lays awake at night because of your first interaction), you liked his tree a lot and you talked for hours under it. He walked you home like a gentleman after and shows up the next morning to give you an exclusive tour of the entire place and treats you to lunch

✭After that he pops up everywhere. You need company on an errand, he's some how at your door, checking his watch trying to look nonchalant when he is one of the most chalant people to walk the earth. You get caught in the rain, your eyes aren't deceiving you, that is indeed Ekko in the misty distance with an extra umbrella he 'found' lying around somewhere. You wanna go out one night, that's hilarious because Ekko had the exact same idea and if you're both going out might as well keep each other safe at night.

✭Don't be mistaken, he allows you space. He himself is a man who enjoys solitude, but what is the point of a commune if not community. He can do things alone, and he does, but if he's craving company and you are too, why bother with it. Being together isn't often a big ordeal anyway, sometimes its lounging around in his lab reading a book while he's tinkering away with some good music playing in the background. And sometimes, if the stars align and the moon allows, you slow dance to whatever's playing while talking about your day, even if you spent it together.

✭Ekko can certainly cook. He got quite good at making something out of nothing before his tree, but after, you try convincing him every day to open a restaurant should he ever need some cash on the side. He likes his kitchen a lot, actually, its his private sanctuary. A place where his love of the arts and science come together. In a modern AU, he would totally be on the track to have a degree in biochemistry and plan to open his own restaurant.

✭You two would hang out in his kitchen a lot, and out of the kindness of his heart, he would allow you to lick the spoon anytime he bakes something. It would also be where he confesses, a candlelit dinner for two already set up while both of you prepare what will be your first meal together as a couple.

❂Jayce❂

❂Probably the only one (and Mel) who can pull of being suave. Though he can pull it off, it is not authentic at all. He certainly woos you with it though!! He is a very classic romantic, buying you dozens of roses and wine-and-dining you with fancy champagne and furry rugs, but it's all a facade. He's a really big dork. Unlike the previous two, being suave is the defense he plays rather well. He's a bit scared that when you realize he's really pathetic deep down, you'll be disappointed. He's the man of progress and built like a brickhouse and he is slightly very insecure that's not his personality deep down

❂He enjoys walks in the gardens once you get a bit closer to him. Usually you two will talk in his lab or in your place of work and he'll drop a few cheesy pickup lines with a charming smirk and you'll both laugh it off. You think he's just a flirt for a while and he's really trying to work on you (just very unsuccessfully). It's not until he (very inorganically) tells you he's tired and wants a change of scenery and asks if you'll accompany him to the gardens. For the first time ever, you get one of his toothy smiles instead of those stupid forced smirks and you're really fond of it.

❂From then on, things start progressing much faster. He starts to tell you about Hextech and his theories about the runes and how it all works and babbles about scientific drivel until the sun goes down and, unless you're one of the sciency-types, it goes through one ear and out the other. He's ok with this, he likes having a sponge around to talk things through with, but if you can actually engage, he'd probably get a boner.

❂I feel like out of everyone, after you got close enough, he would do relationship things, creating a very vague space that can leave you questioning whether or not you're together or if you're reading into things too much. This is entirely because he wants to ask you out and he is like 90% percent sure you'll say yes but he's worried about the slim chance you won't and wants you to take the leap for him because he's too scared to.

❂He's a big physical touch guy. Like the type to leave his hands in your back pocket, not even because he's trying to grab your ass, but because he wants to touch you (and your ass). He likes hugs!! He gives such good hugs. While it's usually him leaning on you for touch, placing his head in your lap, grabbing your hands, or letting his hands linger on your hips to rub little patterns, he is beyond excited when it's you are initiating. What do you mean you want a hug from him!!! What do you mean you want to hold his hand!! He is so over the moon excited.

❂Slight side tangent, but if you went out in something low cut he would constantly be staring at your chest. Not even in a perv way (most of the time), but to make sure it doesn't fall down. He has gotten very sly at pulling it up for you in an unnoticeable way. There are a lot of similar acts with him, casual touches here and there. Unsticking your hair from your lip gloss, pulling stray leaves or flower petals out of your hair, making sure the clasp of your necklace stays in place at the back of your neck.

❂I know he smells nice. Dior Sauvage warrior right here!!! He would go slightly overboard with it on the day he confesses just because you said you liked it. He would plan everything to an absolute 't'. A walk in the gardens where you had what he considers your first date, a written speech that become illegible because his hands were sweaty while he was holding it, a specific spot to eat dinner so you got a perfect glimpse of the stars. He would even wait for the day that a specific constellation was in place to perfectly set the mood. He asks you to be his girlfriend like he's proposing, with a single rose and matching bracelets to commemorate the occasion.

☽Viktor☾

☾Viktor is another one I don't really see having a crush just because he is so busy all the time, but I don't think you'd need to work in the lab to catch his attention. I think simple things, like kindness, would really be all he needs. He appreciates someone who doesn't coddle him or look at him funny because he's from Zaun or because of his leg. Someone who is considerate to his disability while also treating him like a person, not like some porcelain doll

☾I think once he found you, he would find it slightly hard to know what to do next. He likes your banter when you come around and he knows he likes you, it's the pursuing part that gets him tripped up. He is someone who likes to have it planned out and he has no idea where he would take you on a date or what you enjoy or who you are really

☾Every hang out would eventually turn into a game of 21 questions. What's your favorite color? What do you like to do in your free time? What's your least favorite chore to do? It all seems very random you two jump from topic to topic when the conversation stills. He also just adores hearing you go on and on about things. They could be the simplest of things, like going into very heavily deep detail as to why your favorite colors purple, or something more substantive, like a full and deep analysis of your favorite book, or just gossip. This man is a D-1 gossiper!!

☾He likes having you around in general. Like Jayce, he enjoys having someone to bounce ideas off of or just being able to hear them out loud. He also feels more at ease around you. Unlike pretty much everyone else, he wouldn't freeze up around his crush. If anything, he's more prone to fault without them there. He gets too wrapped up in work, he forgets to take breaks, he forgets to eat. You're always there to remind him to do what he forgets to the point that you don't even have to say it anymore. He's gotten so good about it, sometimes he makes lunch for the both of you.

☾He absolute adores your banter. He's not as serious as people think he is. He can crack a joke or two. He's sarcastic and witty and a leader of the sassy man apocalypse. He would absolutely die without hearing your laugh at his stupid jokes.

☾On a different note, he would start using pet names so smoothly. It would start slowly with a simple nickname and then eventually progress into one of those old, classic nicknames. Dear or darling would definitely be his go-to's and he would only get bolder as you start to blush more. He's cocky too, he is very aware of the effect he has, and he likes pushing your buttons. It's like a game, the more he picks and prods, the greater his reward is.

☾I also have a feeling he'd be a slight neat freak. Like his lab is a different story, his work is chaotic, but he cannot come home to chaos. I think if you let him into your space, he wouldn't definitely tidy it up subtly. Wiping dust off books and slightly moving objects on your desk so they look more orderly. I feel like this carries over to appearance too. He has a specific way of tying his shoes and he's very meticulous about what ties he wears and knows how to do like every type of knot.

☾He also definitely smells good. You can't convince me he doesn't have like a 12-step shower routine and takes advantage of all of Piltover's fancy soups and colognes. In contrast to Jayce, however, his smelling good is him smelling super clean. Like it's not a scent out of a bottle or anything, nor does he smell exactly like soap, he smells distinctly like himself and very clean.

☾I think he would confess very simply and nonchalantly. It would be a late night in the lab by candlelight or some sort of low lighting has him feeling romantic and bold. He peppers it into conversation smoothly, something like "It's too late tonight, but tomorrow we should go on our first date." And you are taken aback, which he knew you would be. You do ask if he was officially asking you to be his girlfriend and he tells you "he doesn't really like labels", but the wide smile and kiss he gave you said otherwise.

☼Mel☼

☼Probably one of the smoothest talkers out of everyone here. She would have absolutely no problems charming anyone into a relationship. Similar to Jayce, it would be a bit superficial at first. Feeling like she would need a relationship to feel complete, not in a self-esteem way, but rather in an aesthetic way. She is always trying to look very put together and like she has everything under control, and the "complete" life looked like one with a significant other. She eventually realizes a complete life doesn't need a partner, but her complete life wouldn't be complete without you.

☼Mel would feel like she's being obvious towards her crush when she in reality is not. She has this very professional tone about her, and she eventually has to learn that even the sweetest things sound manufactured in that manner. She would talk very softly with her crush, a lot of whispers during council meetings and sweet mutterings while it's just the two of you. This reminds me, if you're shorter than her, she has the very attractive habit of leaning down to speak to you.

☼Big on eye contact. She could talk you unto circles, your pupils dilated and just nodded at anything she says. She finds this very amusing. She is aware of the effect her voice has on people, and she would be lying if she said she didn't put into hyperdrive when it came to you. It's not even a different voice she put on, it's just the way she speaks and looks you in your eyes that's so captivating. She also gives it right back when it comes to listening to you. Though she has the habit of wanting to fix your problems for you, she's gotten good at asking if you even want her advice or just want her to listen.

☼She would love matching with her crush. Once again, someone who visuals are very important to, she likes the idea that you look together, even if you aren't. This also applies to her finding any way for you to be together at public events. Inviting you as her date to a gala or not wanting to do a grocery run alone, she would ask you to come with. She loves looking like you two are dating.

☼Gossip sessions would go insane. It's definitely a scheduled weekend event with face masks and nails, she'll braid your hair and in return you'll pick out new charms and styles for her to put hers in. Part of it is because she likes being well informed about what everyone is up to and part of it is bonding over despising the same people in the council (this is directed at Salo). Her favorite part of it is being around you; it's a very intimate activity that she can't get enough of.

☼I feel it in my bones that she's the type to open doors for you. Car doors, carriage doors, your hand will not grace a single doorknob or handle around her. She would also be on top of the weather, festivals and fun events happening, and things concerning to your interests. You will never regret not wearing your rainboots because she would've told you the forecast the morning. Your favorite music artists are coming soon, good thing she told you like a month ago so you could get tickets before everyone else.

☼She is another chef, but of the comfort food variety. Her food just tastes like a warm hug, and she is the first you go to when feeling under the weather. She takes great pride in this. She doesn't cook often and she doesn't even enjoy the activity that much, preferring to eat out or have a private chef, but she likes that she has something that she can do for you.

☼I don't think it would take her very long to ask you out, especially if she felt like the feelings were reciprocated. To her, there's no point in prolonging the inevitable and she really likes the way your names sound together. I think she is also sappy; she is just incredibly well at hiding it. All of the acts of service mentioned above are usually done casually. She wins the nonchalant Olympics even when she's not trying to. She thinks it's incredibly clear, but the way she comes across doesn't convey that. Thus, her sappy moments are few and far between and she gets very bashful when they're mentioned.

☼Definitely has a scrapbook of your times together as well as a diary where she talks about you for pages on end. The discovery of this would lead to the confession. It would be uncomfortable for her just because it would be so impromptu and that is not how she likes to do things. She would be very vulnerable and honest about her feelings and would call this your "unofficial" confession. She would later go all out as she had always intended during her confession

[eldritchcreatureofwords]

OK, because ya'll need to hear it.

THERE WAS NOTHING OZZIE COULD HAVE DONE IN THAT TRIAL. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. "Oh, but Foxxe, he could have spoken up!" Bee did! And she was instantly brushed off and shut up. She barely got so much as an acknowledgement. Vassago did! And he was also shut down. Hard. He got more of a say then Bee did, likely because he was taken more seriously than the silly, childish Sin of Gluttony, but still no one even pretended to listen to him. Moxxie did. Blitz himself did. Did none of you hear what Blitz said at the end? Because he was right and it was true. Satan was never going to listen to anyone. Maybe, maybe if they'd managed to vote in a proper trial, he would have been forced to, but the rational people in the room lost the vote. The only reason Stolas got heard was because he made such a big scene, made himself impossible to ignore- and was the point of the trial in the first place. "Oh, but Foxxe, the crystal!" Cool, cool. So that means nothing. No, really. The crystal means fuck all. Even if this trial weren't rigged, even if anyone was willing to listen, even if people actually thought Blitz had done something wrong and didn't just not give a shit- Blitz still acquired his means to earth illegally in the first place. Just because you buy a car years later doesn't unsteal the one you stole in your teens, and it doesn't make that suddenly not illegal. Now, Stolas gave Blitz access to the book, but that's still illegal (apparently) and even if it wasn't, it's pretty clear that's not what he's actually on trial for. He's 'on trial' for supposedly raping, assaulting, manipulating, and stealing from a Goetia. They're making Blitz out to be the monster Stella really is. It's not just about the book, and even if it was, the crystal would not undo the illegal actions taken originally. "Oh, but Foxxe, he could have said something about Striker!!" Oh, right, cool, yeah. But, uh, one question. Why???? It's not like the council thinks Striker is some good-faith high-class excellent beacon of shining morale. They know he's an assassin. He is literally here to get amnesty. What is Ozzie going to say? "Oh, this guy who kills people for a living? He tried to kill my boyfriend!" Um, duh, of course he did, no shit, he's a POS. If anything, that would easily be twisted to make Blitz look like a psychopath who set Striker on Fizz, too. And it would have brought Ozzie's relationship with Fizzie out onto the table, which is a can of worms no one wants to deal with.

Yes, they're open now, but fuck only knows if Satan or any of the other sins know that- and even if they do, it puts Ozzie's words/testimony in nebulous light because Blitz is Fizzie's friend, and Fizzie is Ozzie's lover. Plus, as a 'dirty imp fucker' Ozzie may well dig everyone's hole even deeper and further complicate the situation. Ozzie is flat-out-stated to be the 'weakest and least threatening' of the Sins. Satan is the strongest, save perhaps Luci himself, who isn't fucking there because he's currently in a room buried up to the Goddamn neck in rubber duckies and having a fucking crisis while his people and his domain sort of fall down around his stupid adorable ears. Ozzie's not going to pick a fight he can't win. Because he wouldn't win it. Satan would flatten him and we all fucking know it. Even if he did go scorched earth and just start a Goddamn fight in the courtroom, what does that solve? Precisely nothing. You would, best case scenario, have I.M.P on the run, Ozzie a traitor, and Stolas and Blitz still in their Divorce Era, miserable and alone, now with added Half of Hell on their Heels for extra emotional and mental damage! So, in summation- Ozzie couldn't do jack fucking all in that trial. And to hope that Fizzie hates him, is angry with him, or they break up over this is really small and silly and absolutely does not do justice to the characters- and I'm not even getting into some of the flanderizing bullshit I see saying Ozzie is racist and implying that his relationship with Fizzie isn't as healthy as it seems and it's all about to come to light. I'm not saying Fizz can't be mad. I'm not saying they don't need to talk. I'm not saying it's not traumatic and stressful or doesn't need to be addressed. I'm saying that ultimately Ozzie's hands were fucking tied and that a ten year plus relationship is not a lie that is about to fall apart or crack. And if it does, I'm going to be pretty disappointed in Vivz. (I'll keep loving the show, of course, just be disappointed.) I'm saying that ya'll need to stop acting like Ozzie is an evil, hypocritical, or selfish douchebag for not flinging himself on the pyre pointlessly. I'm saying that while I think it will be addressed, I really think ultimately Fizz is a compassionate, intelligent, empathetic person who will understand why Ozzie couldn't do anything and will be glad the man he loves- the man he loves, ya'll- did not cut off his nose to spite his face.

[creamflix]

PHD IN LOVING YOU! — gojo satoru x (south asian) female reader [oneshot]

summary: you’ve perfected the art of running your classroom with all the intensity of a courtroom drama, leaving most of your students sweating bullets. enter gojo satoru — chaos incarnate, immune to your terrifying presence and oddly persistent in his antics. when his usual charm fails in the lecture hall, he decides to take up a part-time gig at a restaurant you frequent, just to catch you off guard. falling for someone? totally against his rules. but for you? maybe he’s willing to rewrite the script. after all, what’s love without a little melodrama?

content warnings: fluff & crack. sunshine gojo x grumpy reader. slightly “tsundere” reader. age gap of barely a few years [gojo is in his last year of college, reader has recently finished college]. mentions of alchohol, drunken confessions, frat party. food as a metaphor for love. he fell first, s/he fell harder trope. oblivious idiots in love. mentioned characters: nanami and suguru. many south asian and desi vocabulary/references, non-english words have been italicized - can be read with poc reader if you’d like. 

read on ao3!

“you know, around here, they call me the strongest.”

you didn’t even bother looking up from your notes. the voice — a mix of arrogance and charm that seemed to be dripping in its own self-confidence — was impossible to ignore. you clicked your pen shut, deliberately slow, and turned your head just enough to give him the most unimpressed look you could muster.

“wow,” you said, voice flatter than a pancake in a hydraulic press. “should i clap or…?”

he grinned, and lord help you, it was the kind of grin that made people weak in the knees. unfortunately for him, you were built different. built on hard work, resilience, and the occasional well-timed tea break.

“clapping’s optional. fainting’s encouraged,” he quipped, leaning against the desk like he had all the time in the world and none of it was for anything remotely productive. his hair was somehow whiter than freshly washed bedsheets in an ad, and his sunglasses — indoors, mind you — screamed “i’m better than you” energy. he radiated main character syndrome. 

you hated it already.

“yeah, no thanks,” you replied, finally closing your notebook and looking him over. he was tall — ridiculously so — and gave the impression of someone who breezed through life. his uniform was slightly undone, tie askew, and his energy screamed chaos. how was this guy even a student? better yet, why was he bothering you?

“what’s your name?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

“assistant professor,” you deadpanned. “yours?”

he chuckled, and you immediately hated how smooth it sounded. “gojo satoru,” he said, sticking out a hand. when you didn’t take it, he dramatically clutched his chest. “ouch. is this how you treat everyone? or am i just special?”

“special, alright,” you muttered, gathering your notes. “special cases need special patience.”

he laughed again, entirely too amused for your liking. “oh, i like you. you’ve got bite. most of the other assistants here just nod and take notes.”

“maybe they’re smarter than me,” you said, shoving your notebook into your bag. “because clearly, engaging with you is a waste of time.”

his hand shot to his chest again, like he was physically wounded. “harsh. let me guess — you’re not from around here?”

“nope. just an exchange student,” you said, trying to sidestep him, but he moved to block your path with the kind of speed that made you pause. his grin widened.

“ohhh, so you’re fresh meat. perfect.”

“i’m what now?” you asked, tone incredulous.

“fresh meat. new blood. the newbie. means you need someone to show you around — and lucky for you, i happen to be the best tour guide on this campus.” he said it like it was a fact, like the sky being blue or tea being superior to coffee. “and by best, i mean me. obviously.”

“oh, obviously,” you said dryly, finally losing your patience. “listen, gojo-san —”

“just call me satoru,” he interrupted, and you could swear the man was physically incapable of shutting up.

“fine, satoru.” you narrowed your eyes. “i don’t need a tour guide. i’ve been here two weeks, and i’m doing just fine without whatever… circus act you’re trying to sell me.”

“two weeks?” he repeated, looking genuinely surprised. “and i’m just meeting you now? tragedy. an absolute tragedy. who’s been hogging all your time?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose. “my job, satoru. you know, work? responsibilities? ever heard of those?”

“vaguely,” he said, waving his hand like the concept was beneath him. “but they don’t sound nearly as fun as whatever we could be doing. come ooonnnn, i’ll even buy you lunch. do they have the food you like here? no? okay, we’ll work with what we’ve got.”

you stared at him, wondering what karmic sin you committed to end up here. but as much as you hated to admit it, he was…kind of funny. infuriating, sure, but funny. 

not that you’d tell him that.

“why are you so determined to bother me?” you finally asked.

“because,” he said simply, leaning down until he was eye level with you. “you look like the only person here who won’t bore me to death. and i’m the strongest, remember? you should be honored.”

your eyes twitched. “the only thing i’m honored by is how incredibly patient i’m being right now. do you ever stop talking?”

“not when i’m around someone interesting,” he shot back, straightening up and casually stuffing his hands in his pockets. “so, assistant professor — what’s your name?”

you debated lying, but something about the way he looked at you — like you were a puzzle he was determined to solve — made you relent. “it’s y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeated, like he was trying it out. then, with another blinding grin, he pointed finger guns at you. finger guns. 

“well, y/n, you’re stuck with me now.”

you sighed. “this is gonna be the longest exchange program of my life.”

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo wasn’t the type to waste his time on newbies. fresh faces didn’t interest him, and assistant professor types were even lower on his list of people to bother. but you? you were something else. and not in the way where people threw around the word "exotic" like it was a compliment when really it made your blood boil. no, what made you different was your no-nonsense, whip-cracking, grade-A work ethic that had the entire campus buzzing.

rumor had it you’d leave the university with a teaching badge instead of your certificate, and honestly? no one would be surprised. you were that good. the kind of good that made nanami — notoriously stoic nanami — actually praise you. it wasn’t swooning, obviously; nanami would never swoon. but if he was capable of admiration beyond his rigid work-life balance philosophy, you had earned it. the rest of the student body? 

terrified.

genuinely, pant-shitting levels of fear. because for the first time in, well, forever, students were completing assignments on time. early, even.

fear, respect, or some chaotic cocktail of the two, no one dared question it. the unspoken rule? just do your work before you end up on the wrong side of assistant professor y/n.

gojo? oh, he saw all of it. the storm you stirred up, the iron grip you had on a campus that thrived on chaos. he knew you wouldn’t let him get away with his usual antics. not the skipping class, not the snarky comments, and definitely not his self-declared celebrity status. you were a buzzsaw of accountability, and gojo loved it. not in the way you think, though — don’t get ahead of yourself.

because gojoism — yes, that’s a thing; yes, he coined it — has a very clear rule: don’t get attached. people, places, things — they’re all just pit stops in the grand marathon of gojo satoru versus the world. getting attached? getting sentimental? that’s for suckers who don’t know how this game works. and catching feelings for an assistant professor? please. that would be career suicide.

but here’s the thing about gojo: he thrives in contradiction. so while he’d never admit it, he couldn’t get enough of the way you refused to be impressed by him. not his titles, not his abilities, not even his very charming face (his words, obviously). the way you rolled your eyes at his jokes instead of laughing? addicting. the way you’d cut him off mid-sentence with a pointed look? chef’s kiss.

he’d push your buttons — because of course he would — and you’d push back harder. sometimes literally, if he got too close.

“gojo,” you’d say, voice clipped as you slammed a stack of papers onto the desk he was currently lounging on, “do you even know what deadlines are?”

“do you even know how cute you look when you’re mad?” he’d shoot back with a smirk, only for you to grab the stack of papers and smack him on the head with it.

“i’m docking points for that,” you’d reply.

“good thing i’m not in that class,” he’d say, rubbing the back of his head but grinning all the same.

you weren’t like anyone else here. and while gojo would never admit it — never — you made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, attachment wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

not that he’d act on it. he had a reputation to maintain, after all.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

your hometown wasn’t kind to its students, and for women? the hurdles were sky-high. if you made it past the expectations of marriage by twenty-five, you were already considered lucky. but leaving the country? going all the way to japan to work as an assistant professor? it was practically unheard of. you fought tooth and nail for this opportunity, and everyone in your life — your parents, your friends, and especially your sleep-deprived self — knew it.

your parents bore the brunt of it back home, of course. aunties with too much time on their hands whispered about how you’d “slipped away from their hands” and speculated with relish about what a young woman like you must be doing all alone in another country. you heard about the comments in their phone calls, the carefully worded complaints disguised as updates. but you? you silently flipped every single one of those people off and worked harder.

and when you got to japan? well, you expected the students here to match the academic rigor you were used to. surely, you thought, at a prestigious institution like this one, students would treat education with the respect it deserved. but what you found instead was chaos. procrastination, laziness, and a classroom full of students who had clearly never experienced the kind of academic discipline you grew up with.

so you showed them. you brought the fire and brimstone that only years of being forged in the relentless grind of your own education could provide. your methods were strict, your expectations sky-high. deadlines weren’t suggestions; they were law. a harsh approach? maybe. but you weren’t here to make friends — you were here to do your job. and, to your satisfaction, it worked.

assignments started coming in on time. some students even began submitting them early. the whispers in the hallways stopped being about how scary you were and turned into grudging admiration. you weren’t just another assistant professor anymore; you were the assistant professor. the one who could whip an entire class into shape.

but there was one exception to your reign of order. one glaring, white-haired exception.

gojo satoru.

no amount of stern talking, rule-enforcing, or pointed glares seemed to get through to him. while the rest of his peers buckled down and locked in, gojo remained steadfastly, infuriatingly gojo. he treated your class like a casual hangout session, his assignments as optional suggestions, and your authority as a particularly amusing joke.

you tried everything. you talked to him one-on-one (he just grinned and offered you candy). you imposed stricter penalties (he seemed genuinely delighted to rack up a record number of deductions). finally, in frustration, you tried reverse psychology: ignoring him altogether.

if you thought that would deter him, though, you clearly underestimated how much gojo thrived on attention — especially yours.

at first, he made a game of it. raising his hand obnoxiously in class, only to say something irrelevant when called on. loudly announcing how much he missed being scolded by you. once, he even showed up early, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin as if daring you to acknowledge his punctuality.

“oh, wow, professor y/n,” he said with mock sincerity, “do i finally have your attention, or should i try harder?”

you didn’t even glance up from your notes. “if this is you trying, then maybe you should quit while you’re ahead, gojo-san.”

he pouted. actually pouted. “cold as ever. don’t you think this is a little mean? ignoring one of your best students?”

you finally looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “best at what? wasting time?”

the class laughed. gojo didn’t. instead, he grinned, a slow, deliberate grin that made you feel like you’d walked right into a trap.

“oh, you’re good,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering over to his seat. “but i’m better.”

and that was the thing about gojo: he wasn’t just a student. he was a problem. an unshakable, incorrigible problem. and as much as you hated to admit it, ignoring him was harder than it should’ve been. not because you cared what he thought, obviously. but because he was just so damn annoying.

and, if you were being honest with yourself, a tiny part of you begrudgingly respected his ability to get under your skin. not that you’d ever let him know that.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo knew what you were doing the second you started doing it. reverse psychology? seriously? please, he’d been playing that game for years, mostly with girls trying to “tame” him, and he always came out on top. so when you turned that tactic on him in the most mundane, academic context possible, he thought he’d laugh it off.

except, he wasn’t laughing.

it stung. not in the obvious way, like a slap or a scolding — those he could handle with ease. no, this was a slow, persistent sting that gnawed at him. he told himself it was just the principle of the thing. after all, he was gojo satoru. he didn’t get ignored. not by students, not by professors, and definitely not by some assistant professor whose job was to notice him.

so, naturally, he did what he did best: he tried to annoy you back into paying attention to him.

he showed up late with the loudest excuse he could think of, dumped his belongings on the desk noisily, and waved like he hadn’t just interrupted the lecture. “don’t mind me!” he’d said with a grin, as if the entire class wasn’t already staring.

you didn’t flinch. didn’t even pause. just kept writing on the board like he didn’t exist.

then he started asking the most absurd questions in class, his hand shooting up every five minutes. “uh, do you think math could ever, like, save the world? or is it just numbers pretending to be important?”

without missing a beat, you replied, “math can’t save the world, but it might save your grade. if you pay attention, gojo-san.”

still, you didn’t really look at him.

and that’s what got him. no matter what he did — no matter how big his antics got — he felt like you were slipping further away. it was maddening. why was he so perturbed by your lack of attention? it wasn’t like he was starved for it. hell, there were at least three girls giggling at him from the back row, clearly waiting for him to flash a grin their way.

but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

because all he wanted, all he needed, was for you to look at him. just once.

and when you finally did — fleeting, barely a second — he swore it knocked the air clean out of his lungs. it wasn’t a soft, affectionate gaze. it was clinical, assessing, like you were deciding if he was worth wasting your energy on. and yet, it made his heart race like he’d just run a marathon.

he coughed, choking on his own spit like an idiot, and the giggling girls behind him burst into laughter. he barely noticed. his entire brain was short-circuiting because of one tiny glance from you.

oh no, he thought, panic creeping into the edges of his mind.

because if this meant what he thought it meant — if the flutter in his chest and the heat rising to his cheeks were any indication — then he was cooked.

and not in the cool, suave, gojo-satoru-untouchable way. no, he was the other kind of cooked. the pathetic kind. the “i might have it bad for you” kind.

and that? that was unacceptable. because the rules of gojo-ism were clear: no attachments. no crushes. no letting someone get under his skin.

but as he caught himself sneaking another glance your way, only to find you resolutely ignoring him, he realized something even worse.

it was already too late.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

the exhaustion from the week was creeping up on you, and all you wanted was the comfort of home — specifically, a plate of steaming hot rice served just the way you like it: with spices, gravy, and soul. you had a list of places to try, but tonight, your craving led you to a cozy little restaurant tucked into the corner of the town, its windows fogged from the heat of its bustling kitchen.

the moment you stepped in, it was like being transported back home. the air was thick with the scent of turmeric, cumin, and garlic sizzling in oil. old 90’s hits blared from the bose speakers, their crackly charm only adding to the vibe. the tables were covered in laminated menus adorned with bright pictures of curries and rice dishes, and the faint clinking of plates and laughter of families made the place feel alive.

you inhaled deeply, a small smile tugging at your lips as you muttered, “finally, some real food.”

but just as the nostalgia began to settle, so did the chaos.

“auntie, i swear, if you add me on instagram, i’ll give you an extra drink on the house!”

you froze. that voice was unmistakable.

slowly, you turned your head toward the noise, and there he was — gojo satoru, in all his obnoxiously white-haired glory, standing at a table of middle-aged aunties who were giggling like schoolgirls. he was holding a menu in one hand, the other gesturing wildly as he leaned in with his megawatt grin.

your first instinct was to turn around and walk out, but it was too late. his stupid sixth sense or whatever it was must’ve pinged because his gaze snapped to yours.

for a moment, he froze, his grin faltering slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. then, like the human embodiment of chaos he was, he lit up.

“well, well, well,” he said, straightening up and strolling toward you, the menu still clutched in his hand. “if it isn’t assistant professor y/n. what brings you to my establishment?”

you blinked. “your establishment?”

“yepppp,” he said, popping the “p” with a smirk. “i work here now. part-time, of course. y’know, givin’ back to the community and alla that.”

“giving back?” you repeated, skepticism dripping from your tone as you glanced at the aunties still swooning over him.

“what can i say?” he shrugged dramatically. “the people love me. i’m a man of the masses.”

you narrowed your eyes. “last i heard, you said part-time jobs were, and i quote, ‘too lame.’”

“ah, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck, the smirk slipping for just a moment before snapping back into place. “turns out, this place has… sentimental value.”

you raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but before you could press him further, the manager — an older man with a sharp mustache and a no-nonsense attitude — poked his head out from the kitchen.

“boy! less talking, more working!”

“right, right,” gojo called back, waving him off. then, turning to you, he added with an exaggerated bow, “your server for tonight, at your service.”

“oh, god,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“don’t worry,” he said, grinning as he led you to a table near the window. “i’ll make sure your dining experience is unforgettable. five-star service, guaranteed.”

you sat down, glancing around at the restaurant. the energy was warm and lively, the kind of place where families lingered over their meals, and you couldn’t help but relax a little despite gojo’s antics.

but as soon as he returned with the menu, you realized relaxing wasn’t on the agenda tonight.

“so, what’ll it be?” he asked, placing the menu on the table with a flourish.

you reached for it, but he held on, his hand lingering just long enough to make it awkward.

“gojo,” you said flatly.

“right, right,” he said, quickly letting go and stepping back. “just thought i’d help you decide. you know, spice levels, portion sizes, all that jazz.”

“i think i can handle it,” you said, scanning the menu.

he nodded, rocking back on his heels like he had too much energy and no idea what to do with it. “cool, cool, cool. uh, so… how’s the food situation at the dorms? still… uh, bad?”

you looked up, startled by the shift in his tone. was he… making small talk?

“it’s fine,” you said cautiously. “why do you ask?”

“no reason,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck again. “just, you know, wondering. totally normal thing to ask. not weird at all.”

you stared at him, and for the first time since you’d met him, he looked… nervous.

“gojo,” you said slowly, “did you…get this job just so you could talk to me outside of class?”

his eyes widened, and for a second, you thought he might actually deny it. but then, to your utter disbelief, he groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“okay, fine,” he admitted, throwing his hands up. “yes, i might’ve suggested to the manager that hiring me would be a strategic move. but can you blame me? you’ve been ignoring me for weeks!”

“oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“but hey, look,” he said, leaning on the table with that infuriating grin, “it worked, didn’t it? you’re here, we’re talking, and you’re not ignoring me anymore.”

you peeked at him through your fingers. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet,” he said, winking, “you’re still here. coincidence? i think not.”

you couldn’t help it. despite yourself, a laugh escaped you. maybe it was the smell of the spices or the familiar music or the sheer ridiculousness of gojo trying to be suave while fumbling a menu, but for the first time in weeks, you felt… lighter.

“fine,” you said, sitting back with a sigh. “just get me some biryani, and maybe — maybe — i’ll stop ignoring you.”

“coming right up!” he said, snapping his fingers and spinning toward the kitchen.

and as he walked away, practically bouncing with energy, you realized something unsettling.

you didn’t hate this. not as much as you thought you would.

for all his loud boasts and infuriating antics, gojo somehow managed to deliver on his promise of five-star service. you weren't sure whether to be impressed or mildly alarmed by how committed he was to the bit. the complimentary lassi arrived first, its frothy top sprinkled with crushed pistachios and saffron strands.

“on the house,” gojo said, placing it in front of you with a flourish, his grin as bright as ever.

you raised an eyebrow. “on the house? or on your paycheck?”

he clutched his chest in mock offense. “you wound me. can’t a guy just be generous without being interrogated?”

you took a cautious sip, the cool, sweet tang of the lassi immediately soothing your tired soul. okay, maybe he wasn’t completely useless. but you weren’t about to let him know that.

“it’s good,” you said grudgingly, setting the glass down.

“good?” he repeated, looking almost scandalized. “it’s amaaazzing. i personally quality-checked the batch this morning. and by quality-check, i mean stole a glass when no one was looking.”

“why am i not surprised?”

he laughed, loud and carefree, before turning back toward the kitchen. “don’t go anywhere. the main course is coming up, and trust me, it’s gonna blow your mind.”

“i’ve had biryani before, gojo,” you called after him.

he paused mid-step, glancing over his shoulder with a wink. “yeah, but you’ve never had biryani here.”

you rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, a small smile tugged at your lips.

when the biryani finally arrived, it was accompanied by a plate of papad so stacked you thought it might topple over at any moment. gojo set the dishes down with exaggerated care, his expression comically serious.

“i present to you: the finest biryani in town,” he announced, stepping back like a magician revealing his latest trick. “and, of course, an appropriate amount of papad.”

“appropriate?” you said, staring at the pile. “are you trying to feed me or an army?”

“details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

you took a bite of the biryani, the warm, spiced flavors instantly transporting you back home. for a moment, you forgot where you were, lost in the sheer comfort of the food. gojo, who had been watching you like a hawk, grinned triumphantly.

“knew it,” he said, crossing his arms. “you love it.”

you looked up, your expression neutral. “it’s okay.”

“okay?!” he exclaimed, clutching his head in mock despair. “this is a masterpiece! an edible work of art! you should be weeping tears of joy right now.”

“maybe if you’d actually cooked it, i would,” you shot back.

his grin faltered for the briefest second, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “give me time,” he said softly, almost to himself.

“what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“nothing!” he said quickly, the grin snapping back into place. “anyway, don’t fill up too much. dessert’s coming.”

“dessert?” you repeated. “i didn’t order dessert.”

“i did,” he said, smirking.

you groaned. “gojo, i —”

“truuuust me,” he interrupted, leaning on the table. “you’ll thank me later.”

and sure enough, minutes later, he returned with not one but four different desserts, ranging from gulab jamun to kulfi.

“are you trying to kill me?” you asked, staring at the spread.

“what? no,” he said, feigning innocence. “just making sure you have options.”

“i grew up eating this stuff, you know,” you said, picking up a spoon.

“yeah, but now you’re eating it here, with me,” he said, his tone oddly earnest.

you looked at him, surprised by the sudden shift. he was still grinning, but there was a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“you’re really going all out, huh?” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “what can i say? you’re worth it.”

your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he straightened up, the grin back in full force.

“now, hurry up and eat,” he said, waving at the desserts. “i’ve got a reputation to uphold as the best server this place has ever seen.”

you shook your head, laughing despite yourself.

and as you dug into the desserts, gojo lingered nearby, shooing away any other server who dared approach your table.

“she’s got me,” he said to one particularly annoyed coworker. “go help table six.”

you rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t deny that you appreciated the effort.

because for all his theatrics and ridiculousness, gojo was trying. and maybe — just maybe — that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

the air in the restaurant was thick with the aroma of spices, mingling with the murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. it felt like a piece of home transplanted into a foreign land, and you couldn’t help but soak it all in. across the room, families leaned into each other, sharing plates and stories, while a gaggle of aunties erupted into loud laughter.

you glanced at them and caught gojo in the middle of an animated retelling of what looked suspiciously like a made-up story. he gestured wildly, miming what might have been a tiger fight or possibly a dramatic fall into a ditch.

“and then,” he said, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, “just as i thought it was all over for me, i —”

“slipped on a banana peel,” one of the aunties interjected, to the uproarious laughter of her companions.

gojo clutched his chest. “how dare you ruin my heroic tale! i was going to say i wrestled the tiger with my bare hands!”

the aunties waved him off, and one of them, a silver-haired woman with a cheeky grin, called out to you. “dear, you need to keep this one in check. he’s too much.”

you snorted, raising your glass in mock salute. “believe me, auntie, i’m trying.”

gojo turned to you with an exaggerated pout. “i thought you were on my side!”

“i’ll be on your side when you stop embellishing your life stories,” you shot back, smirking.

“ouch,” he said, clutching his chest again, this time as if you’d shot him. “right in the heart.”

shaking your head, you turned your attention back to the rest of the room. a group of kids at a nearby table was sneaking curious glances at you. when you caught their eye and made a funny face, they shrieked with laughter, their giggles cutting through the hum of the restaurant.

one of the little girls tugged on her mother’s sleeve and whispered something, and the next thing you knew, she was waving shyly at you. you waved back, smiling, and the shy wave quickly turned into an enthusiastic flurry of hands.

“look at you,” gojo said, leaning against the edge of your table, watching the interaction. “miss popular already.”

“it’s not that hard,” you said, shrugging. “kids are easy. you just have to know how to talk to them.”

“oh yeah?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “and what about me? am i easy to talk to?”

“no,” you said flatly.

he burst out laughing, tilting his head back dramatically. “you wound me again! how many times is that tonight? three? four?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising you. it wasn’t one of those polite, measured laughs you reserved for acquaintances. it was genuine, a sound that seemed to echo somewhere deep inside you, loosening a knot you hadn’t even realized was there.

gojo must have noticed because his expression softened, just for a moment. “you should laugh more,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

you looked at him, startled by the sudden change in tone. “what?”

“you,” he said, gesturing vaguely in your direction. “you’re always so serious. it’s nice to see you, you know…relax.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you looked down at your plate, suddenly feeling exposed.

“anyway,” he said, his usual grin slipping back into place. “don’t forget to leave me a glowing review. something like, ‘best server ever, would definitely recommend.’”

you rolled your eyes, the moment broken. “sure, i’ll write that right after ‘most annoying person in the world.’”

“i’ll take it,” he said, laughing as he straightened up.

as you lingered a little longer, watching the bustle of the restaurant and sharing quiet smiles with strangers who felt like kindred spirits, you let out a sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in. maybe, just maybe, it was okay to let yourself enjoy this moment. and maybe a little bit of that had to do with gojo.

the restaurant door jingled shut behind you as you adjusted the strap of your jute satchel on your shoulder, the warm scent of spices still lingering on your clothes. the streets were quiet now, a soft breeze carrying the distant hum of city life. you were about to start your walk back to campus when the sound of a dramatic skid on the wooden floor made you pause.

“hey, wait up!” gojo’s voice rang out, followed by the thundering clatter of his sneakers against the floor. you turned just in time to see him stumble slightly as he reached you, grinning like a fool.

“what now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he bent over, hands on his knees, panting dramatically.

“shift’s over,” he wheezed, straightening up with an exaggerated flourish.

“is it?” you asked skeptically, glancing over his shoulder to see the restaurant manager yelling furiously in a mix of japanese and some choice words that sounded suspiciously similar to the ones your dad and uncles would yell when things went sideways back home.

“absolutely,” gojo said, completely ignoring the manager’s tirade. “and besides, it’s unsafe for you to walk back alone. what kind of guy would i be if i let that happen?”

you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, twitching into a small smile. “oh, please. like anyone would dare mess with me.”

“you’re scary, sure,” gojo said, falling into step beside you. “but even the scariest people need someone to walk them home. it’s, like, basic chivalry.”

“is it basic chivalry to leave your bike at the restaurant?” you asked pointedly, watching as his confident stride faltered for a split second.

“details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “i’ll get it later. this is more important.”

you snorted, clutching your bag tighter as you walked. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet, you’re letting me walk with you,” he shot back, grinning. “what does that say about you?”

“it says i’m too tired to argue,” you replied, though your tone lacked any real bite.

gojo stuffed his hands into his pockets, occasionally stumbling over uneven pavement as he talked — no, rambled — about anything and everything. from the latest anime episode he watched to a bizarre dream where he was somehow the ruler of a pancake kingdom.

“and get this,” he said, nearly tripping over his own feet. “the pancakes? they talked. like, actual conversations. one of them was trying to unionize —”

“how do you even come up with this stuff?” you interrupted, shaking your head in disbelief.

“it’s a gift,” he said, flashing you a grin. “i’m a man of many talents.”

“like tripping over your own feet?” you teased as he stumbled yet again.

“it’s called multitasking,” he said, puffing out his chest. “walking and being charming at the same time is no easy feat.”

“you’re definitely failing at one of those,” you muttered, though the warmth in your voice betrayed your amusement.

as you reached the dormitory gates, you stopped, turning to face him. “well, thanks for walking me back. now you can go fetch your bike and actually get home.”

“right, right,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. but he didn’t move, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long.

you tilted your head. “what?”

“nothing!” he said quickly, holding his hands up. “just…y’know. goodnight.”

you rolled your eyes and turned to walk away, only to pause as the realization hit you. “wait a second.”

gojo blinked, confused. “what?”

“you don’t even stay on campus, do you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. “your bike’s still at the restaurant, and you just walked me all the way here. now you have to walk back.”

his grin faltered, replaced by a sheepish expression. “uh…surprise?”

you stared at him, torn between annoyance and something softer that you didn’t want to acknowledge. before you could stop yourself, your hand shot out, delivering a solid whack to his chest.

“idiot,” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you turned away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

gojo, however, was too busy clutching his chest dramatically, a mix of mock pain and genuine delight lighting up his face. “owwww! was that necessary?”

“completely,” you called over your shoulder, refusing to look back.

“ya know,” he said, his voice carrying through the quiet night, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re warming up to me!”

“don’t push your luck,” you shot back, your pace quickening.

as you disappeared into the dorm, gojo stood there, a stupidly wide grin plastered on his face. he pressed a hand to his chest where you’d hit him, feeling the faint ache beneath his palm.

“totally worth it,” he muttered to himself, practically skipping as he turned to start his long walk back.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo satoru had many things in his arsenal — charm, wit, absurd confidence — but subtlety was not one of them. so when he started showing up to campus hours earlier than necessary, or when steaming boxes of samosas began appearing on your desk, the culprit was obvious.

the first time it happened, you’d barely set your bag down before spotting the box, the smell of spiced potatoes and crispy dough wafting up to greet you. your eyes flicked to the door, just in time to catch a streak of white hair and the sound of hurried footsteps retreating down the hall.

inside the box was a sticky note. the handwriting was atrocious, barely legible, and at the bottom was a crude drawing of a tiger that looked more like a cat with a mohawk.

“thought you’d like these. you’re grrr-eat!  – g.s. :3”

you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly fell out of your head, but your lips betrayed you, curving into a reluctant smile.

by the end of the week, you had a growing collection of these notes in your desk drawer. one had a lopsided peacock that looked like it had been attacked with a blue highlighter. another had a flower that could generously be called a lotus if you squinted and tilted your head.

the students noticed the change in you almost immediately. your usual stern demeanor softened ever so slightly, and while you were still a stickler for deadlines, you now nodded understandingly at genuine excuses.

“did you hear? professor assistant’s in a mood lately,” a student whispered loudly to their desk mate.

“yeah, but why though?”

“maybe she’s —” the student leaned in dramatically, eyes wide —“dating someone.”

gojo, who had been lounging in the back row pretending to nap, shot upright. “dating? her? no way!” he said, loudly enough for the entire class to hear.

all heads swiveled toward him.

“i mean,” he said, backtracking with an exaggerated wave of his hands, “it’d have to be someone really cool. maybe, like…an alien prince? yeah, that’s it. she’s totally in an intergalactic love affair.”

the class burst into laughter, and while the gossip shifted to debating the plausibility of alien romances, gojo stole a glance at you. you were shaking your head, lips pressed together in what he hoped was an attempt to hide a smile.

it wasn’t just the little gestures, though. gojo had also started reigning in his usual chaos. sure, he still submitted assignments late, but only by a day now, and the answers — stolen from nanami or not — were at least complete. he even started hushing other students when they got too rowdy, shooing them with a dramatic, “respect the queen, peasants,” before earning a chalk stick to the head from you.

“owwwww! abuse!” he’d whine, rubbing his head as the class laughed.

“then stop acting like a child,” you’d retort, though there was no real venom in your words.

one day, after a particularly chaotic lecture, you caught him lingering outside the classroom.

“something you need, satoru?” you asked, crossing your arms.

he froze, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “uh, no! just, um, making sure you’re not, y’know…kidnapped by aliens or something. it’s a dangerous world out there.”

“right.” you raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “and the real reason?”

he hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “just…wanted to see if you liked the samosas.”

you softened, just a fraction. “they were fine. but you don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”

“doing what?”

“whatever this is,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “i don’t need bribes to do my job.”

“it’s not a bribe,” he said quickly. “it’s just…you work hard. too hard, maybe. figured you could use a little something to remind you of home.”

your chest tightened, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“besides,” he added, his grin returning, “i’d never bribe you. i’m saving my bribery skills for the day you actually give me detention.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “get out of here before i reconsider.”

as he walked away, practically skipping, you found yourself clutching your satchel a little tighter, feeling the faint weight of all the silly notes tucked inside.

and gojo? as he left campus that day, he was grinning like an idiot, hand pressed to his chest like he’d just won the lottery. sure, he was falling for you, and yeah, maybe it was a little terrifying. but if falling meant more moments like these, he figured it was worth the risk.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

exam season turned the already bustling campus into a pressure cooker, and you found yourself at the center of it all. drafting question papers, aligning marking schemes, coordinating with the examination department — your plate was not just full; it was overflowing.

amid this chaos came the final straw in the saga of gojo satoru: his ban from the staff room.

it started innocently enough — if delivering steaming boxes of samosas to a restricted area could be called innocent. but when the coordinator raised an eyebrow too many and rumors of "the assistant professor's favorite student" began making rounds, the decision was swift and final.

"satoru, this is the last time. you’re banned from the staff room,” you’d told him sternly, pointing a finger for emphasis.

his response? a dramatic gasp and a hand clutching his chest. “you’re banning me? your number-one supporter? your — your cheerleader?”

“yes. cheer me on from a distance,” you said, turning away before he could see the twitch of your lips.

what followed was a week of gojo-level theatrics. he’d pout like a scolded puppy when you walked by, groaning loudly to anyone who’d listen. “my heart’s been broken,” he’d lament to his classmates, sprawling across desks like a tragic hero. “she cast me out. me!”

by day four, you were done.

you found him loitering by the library, feet propped on a bench like he owned the place, a pair of obnoxiously bright sunglasses perched on his nose.

“gojo,” you said, arms crossed.

he sat up straight at your tone, glasses sliding down his nose. “yes, teach?”

“why are you making such a big deal out of this?” you demanded, exasperation lacing your voice.

“because it is a big deal,” he shot back, standing now, his height making you tilt your head slightly to meet his gaze. “do you know how stupid i feel? sneaking into staff rooms, drawing peacocks that look like roadkill, trying to get you to notice me — just for you to shut me out? it sucks, okay?”

his words hung in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless.

you weren’t good with emotions — back home, vulnerability was a luxury few could afford. confrontation wasn’t much better. and yet, here you were, faced with both.

“satoru, it’s not —” you started, faltering as his gaze bore into yours, uncharacteristically earnest.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “look, i… i appreciate what you’ve done. the effort, the —” you gestured vaguely, “ — everything. but this is a professional setting, and you make it really hard to keep things, well, professional.”

his lips quirked up at that, a hint of his usual cockiness returning. “so, you’re saying i’m distracting?”

“don’t push it,” you warned, though your tone lacked heat.

he took a step closer, his grin softening. “i get it. i do. but, y’know… you could’ve just said ‘thank you.’”

you rolled your eyes. “thank you, gojo. for the samosas. and the terrible art.”

“you’re welcome,” he said, stepping back with a mock bow, the tension between you easing ever so slightly.

as you turned to leave, he called after you, “but, hey, just so you know… i’m not giving up. banned or not.”

you didn’t look back, but the small smile tugging at your lips gave you away entirely.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

you stared at the stack of papers on your desk, each one a potential pandora’s box of missed grammar, nonsensical arguments, and uninspired prose. english papers were always a minefield, and you had somehow drawn the short straw for grading them this term. but it wasn’t just the sheer volume of work that made your stomach churn.

it was gojo’s essay.

his name glared at you from the corner of the page like a taunt.

you sighed, running your thumb along the edges of the papers, already bracing yourself for the absurdity to come. he wasn’t exactly known for his academic prowess, and his past submissions had ranged from thinly veiled comedy skits to outright gibberish disguised as poetry.

but as you started reading, your brow furrowed.

"yearning," it began, in unusually elegant script.

his handwriting was still a little messy, but there was care behind each stroke, like he had taken extra time to make it legible.

the essay itself, though…

at first, you thought it was a joke. some elaborate prank he’d written to make you second-guess your sanity.

“yearning is the ache of a soul reaching for something it knows it shouldn’t want but can’t bear to let go of.”

you paused, scanning the words again, waiting for the punchline. it didn’t come. instead, the essay unfolded into something — god help you — poignant.

gojo described yearning as a quiet, persistent tug. an itch in the chest that worsened in silence and swelled in proximity. he wrote about the way it demanded attention, yet he danced around the specifics, cloaking his examples in poetic vagueness.

“it’s the way someone’s voice lingers in your mind even when they’re scolding you. it’s noticing the shape of their smile, even if it’s not meant for you. it’s knowing they’d call you a fool for feeling this way and somehow wanting to hear it anyway.”

you blinked at the page, heart stuttering as the words sunk in. this wasn’t just any essay.

it was about you.

you fought the urge to throw the paper aside, suddenly hyper aware of the way your pulse quickened.

“yearning is seeing someone’s dedication to the world and wanting, selfishly, to be a part of it. to have them look at you with the same seriousness they reserve for their passions. but it’s also knowing that some things are too good to reach for — that trying might ruin the very thing you admire.”

you sat back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as a wave of emotions rolled through you.

was this… sincere?

was it some convoluted joke? a test to see how far he could push you?

but the writing was too raw, too heartfelt to be a simple prank. you could feel him in the words, the way he stumbled through emotions he probably didn’t fully understand.

and yet, there was still that hint of gojo: the irreverence, the humor.

“yearning is stupid, really. because no one wins. either you tell them, and it’s weird, or you don’t, and you’re stuck writing essays about it like some tragic hero in a bad movie.”

you snorted despite yourself, rubbing a hand over your face.

what were you supposed to do with this?

your instincts screamed at you to fail him. this was wildly off-topic, an indulgence of personal feelings instead of academic analysis.

but another part of you — the part that softened at his ridiculous peacock drawings and earnest (if misplaced) attempts to make you smile — couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

you picked up your pen and, after a long moment of deliberation, scribbled a tentative B- in red ink. it wasn’t an outright failure, but it wasn’t exactly encouragement either.

as you set the paper aside, your thoughts swirled, torn between exasperation and something you didn’t want to name.

because even if you didn’t want to admit it, his words had reached you in ways you weren’t prepared to confront.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

when gojo walked into class that day, his usual swagger was amplified tenfold. he was practically glowing, strutting past his peers with his essay held aloft like a trophy. the grin plastered on his face was so wide, it threatened to split his face in half.

“behold, ladies and gentlemen,” he declared, tapping his paper against nanami’s head for good measure, “the masterpiece that is my essay. highest grade i’ve ever gotten. third highest in the entire grade.” he puffed his chest out dramatically, looking at you as if expecting a standing ovation.

nanami rolled his eyes, snatching the paper from gojo’s hands to inspect it. “an a-minus isn’t exactly groundbreaking, satoru.”

gojo gasped, clutching his chest as if wounded. “it is when it’s me, nanami! you don’t understand the emotional labor that went into this! the blood, the sweat, the tears —”

“the copied half of my notes, you mean,” nanami muttered, handing the paper back.

you tried to focus on setting up the lesson, suppressing the urge to smirk. his antics were nothing new, but this time, you couldn’t help but feel a faint tug of pride, even if it was mingled with irritation.

when it was finally time to hand back the essays, you made your way down the rows, handing out graded papers with your usual neutral expression. but when you reached gojo, his bright, expectant eyes locked on yours, you hesitated for just a fraction of a second.

you handed him the paper, your fingers brushing his momentarily, and he took it with both hands, holding it up like it was a sacred artifact.

“a b-minus bumped up to an a-minus,” he said with a faux gasp, loud enough for the entire class to hear. “why, teach, you playing favorites?”

you shot him a warning look, but it only made his grin grow wider.

“don’t push it, gojo,” you said evenly, though your tone lacked its usual edge.

he leaned back in his chair, still gloating as he turned the paper over and over in his hands. but behind the theatrics, you caught the flicker of something genuine in his expression — a quiet kind of satisfaction that spoke louder than his words ever could.

to everyone else, his boasting was just another act. but to you, it felt like something more, like he was seeking validation in the only way he knew how.

and for some reason, that thought lingered long after class ended.

when the bell rang, gojo didn’t rush out like the others. instead, he waited until the room was nearly empty, shuffling awkwardly near your desk.

“soooo, uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “you read it, huh? like… really read it?”

you didn’t look up from the stack of papers you were organizing. “i wouldn’t have graded it if i hadn’t.”

he let out a dramatic sigh, slumping against the desk. “not what i meant. did you get it? like… the deeper meaning?”

you finally glanced up, meeting his gaze. his usual bravado was still there, but there was something softer underneath it, something almost nervous.

“i got it,” you said quietly, and for once, he didn’t have a snarky comeback.

his grin softened, and he straightened up, spinning the paper in his hands again. “cool. just… cool.”

and with that, he left, his usual bounce in his step. but as he reached the door, he glanced back over his shoulder, giving you a look that said more than words ever could.

you shook your head, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. whatever this was between you and gojo, it was unspoken and strange, but maybe, for now, it didn’t need to be anything else.

and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

it was a rare sunny day on campus, and most students were sprawled out on the grassy fields, reveling in the freedom of post-exam bliss. the air buzzed with chatter and laughter, a stark contrast to the usually tense corridors filled with murmurs of last-minute cramming. and yet, instead of being the ringleader of some over-the-top celebration, gojo was trailing behind you like a shadow, a paper box of samosas balanced precariously in one hand and a bottle of mango lassi in the other.

“seriously, gojo,” you said, glancing back at him. “don’t you have somewhere else to be? like, i don’t know, with your friends?”

“what, and miss the chance to see you enjoy my samosas?” he quipped, flashing that obnoxiously bright grin. “besides, i’m everyone’s favorite. they’ll be fine without me for a bit.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t shoo him away. in truth, the quiet after exams was unnerving, and his chatter filled the void in a way that was oddly comforting.

at some point, he insisted on feeding you. the first few times, you outright refused, giving him a look that could curdle milk. but then, for reasons you couldn’t quite fathom — maybe the post-exam haze, maybe the sheer persistence in his puppy-dog eyes — you caved.

“fine,” you relented, leaning slightly forward. “but if you drop even one crumb —”

“relaaax,” he said, his voice dipping into something annoyingly smooth. “you’re in good hands.”

and to his credit, he was careful, holding the samosa with an exaggerated delicacy as if it were made of glass. you bit into it, the crunch loud in the quiet that had suddenly fallen between you two.

he beamed like he’d just won a nobel prize. “seeee? told you i’d make the experience unforgettable.”

“unforgettable, my ass,” you said, brushing crumbs from your lips.

gojo laughed, the sound loud and unrestrained, drawing a few glances from passersby. “you just admitted i’m unforgettable. it’s okay, teach, you don’t have to hide your feelings anymore.”

you smacked his arm lightly, and he let out a mock yelp, clutching it as if you’d injured him.

the box was gone faster than you expected, mostly thanks to gojo’s bottomless pit of a stomach. he flashed you a sheepish grin, crumbs still clinging to the corners of his mouth.

“uhhh… i think i ate more than half,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“think?” you snorted, shaking your head.

the two of you started walking aimlessly around campus, the kind of companionable silence that only came after shared food and banter settling between you.

at one point, gojo said something so utterly ridiculous — something about how samosas were the perfect metaphor for love, with layers of spice and warmth. you snorted so hard, you nearly tripped, your laughter ringing out clear and unfiltered.

“god, you’re such an idiot,” you said, whacking his chest lightly, only to immediately regret it.

why was his chest that solid? it was like hitting a brick wall wrapped in a hoodie.

“owww,” he said dramatically, rubbing the spot as if you’d actually hurt him. then, before you could pull your hand back, he caught your wrist.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice losing its usual playful lilt.

you froze. his hand was warm around your wrist, his touch firm but gentle, and when you looked up, his eyes were — god, they were so blue, it was like staring into a summer sky.

the world around you seemed to blur, the distant hum of campus life fading into nothing as he took a half-step closer.

“you ever notice how weird this feels?” he murmured, his tone uncharacteristically quiet. “like… i’m standing here, and you’re right here, but it still doesn’t feel close enough.”

his forehead brushed against yours, and suddenly, you forgot how to breathe. the space between you was practically nonexistent, and yet, it felt like he was somehow closing a gap you didn’t even realize was there.

“gojo…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but the rest of the words died in your throat.

“satoru,” he corrected softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

the proximity was overwhelming, every detail amplified — the faint scent of whatever cologne he wore, the way his lashes cast shadows over his cheekbones, the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

“don’t worry,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, “i’m not gonna kiss you. not unless you want me to, of course. i’m not that forward.”

the laugh that bubbled out of you was equal parts disbelief and nervousness. “you’re literally the most forward person i’ve ever met.”

“yeah, but not with you,” he admitted, and the sincerity in his voice made your heart stutter.

you pulled back slightly, breaking the moment before it could swallow you whole. “you’re such a drama queen.”

“and yet, you still stick around,” he teased, his grin returning, but this time, it felt softer, less of a mask and more of a truth.

as you walked back to your dorm, his hand brushed against yours, and though neither of you said anything, the warmth lingered long after he’d waved goodbye.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

it was a friday night, the campus buzzing with whispers of the party of the semester. gojo’s name was on every other tongue, along with exaggerated promises of free drinks, loud music, and the type of chaos only he could orchestrate. you tried to brush it off as you walked past clusters of students gossiping on the quad.

“you comin’, miss?” one of your more confident students called out, giving you a cheeky grin.

“unlikely,” you replied, raising an eyebrow but offering a small smile. “don’t think i’d blend in at a college party.”

“oh, trust me,” another chimed in, “you’d be the star of the night. even gojo would agree.”

you waved them off, feigning nonchalance, but the comment lingered.

it wasn’t like you wanted to go to his stupid party. you were a teacher, not some college kid with zero inhibitions. and yet, there was something about the idea of gojo hosting this wild bash, completely in his element, that gnawed at you.

you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. the bindi perched perfectly on your forehead, your jhumkas catching the light as you moved. why not? you were in japan — far from home, far from prying eyes, and definitely far from anyone who’d lecture you about propriety.

dressed in a fusion of your traditional style and something a bit more casual, you hailed a cab, heart racing as you approached the house blaring music loud enough to rattle the street.

the party was exactly what you expected — students spilling out onto the porch, laughter and music mixing with the smell of cheap alcohol. heads turned as you walked in, your attire catching more than a few curious glances.

you ignored the whispers, stepping further into the house. the atmosphere was electric — lights flashing, bodies swaying, drinks being passed around.

and then you spotted him.

gojo was in the middle of it all, a drink in hand and a stupidly wide grin on his face. his glasses were slightly askew, and his cheeks were flushed, the telltale signs of someone thoroughly drunk.

you were about to turn and leave — because clearly, this was a terrible idea — when his voice rang out.

“oh. my. god,” he said, pointing vaguely in your direction. “you look… so familiar!”

you froze. surely, he wasn’t —

“no, seriously!” he stumbled closer, squinting at you. “you remind me of someone. someone important.”

he was too close now, his breath smelling faintly of vodka and whatever sweet mixer he’d drowned it in.

“you’re drunk, satoru,” you said, your voice steady despite the laughter bubbling up inside.

“i’m not that drunk!” he protested, swaying slightly. “okay, maybe a little. but listen! you look just like — like her!”

“her?” you prompted, folding your arms and trying not to smirk.

“yes, her!” he exclaimed, his voice dipping into something uncharacteristically soft. “she’s… she’s amazing. drives me insane, but in a good way, ya know? like, i wanna punch a wall and write poetry at the same time.”

“sounds intense,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“it isss! she’s so smart, and — and kind, but also terrifying,” he continued, his words slurring slightly. “she doesn’t take my shit, which is honestly hot as hell. and her laugh — oh my god, her laugh! s’like… like a warm hug, but for your ears.”

you bit your lip, trying to hold back your laughter. “sounds like you’ve got it bad.”

“i doooooo!” he groaned dramatically, leaning against the wall for support. “but she doesn’t even like me! well, maybe she does? sometimes? she whacked me the other day, and i think that’s a good sign.”

at that, you couldn’t help it — you burst out laughing, the sound lost in the thrum of the party. gojo blinked at you, his expression shifting from confusion to dawning realization.

“wait a second…” he said, leaning closer, squinting as if trying to piece together a puzzle. “no way.”

“yes, way,” you said, your laughter subsiding into a soft chuckle.

his jaw dropped, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“oh my god,” he finally managed. “you’re her! you’re you!”

“brilliant observation,” you teased.

he groaned, covering his face with one hand. “this is so embarrassing. please tell me you didn’t hear all of that.”

“every word,” you said, grinning.

“kill me now,” he muttered, sliding down the wall dramatically.

“don’t worry,” you said, crouching down to his level. “i’ll keep your little rant our secret.”

he peeked through his fingers, his cheeks somehow even redder. “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“maybe,” you admitted, standing up and offering him a hand. “come on, let’s get you some water before you embarrass yourself further.”

he took your hand, his grip surprisingly steady despite his inebriated state. “thanks… for not, like, running away or something. you’re cool, you know that?”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling nonetheless.

as you led him toward the kitchen, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — this ridiculously charming idiot was starting to grow on you.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo wanted to be anywhere but here. 

okay, scratch that — he wanted to be here, with you, but also wanted to dig a hole in his living room floor and yeet himself into it. his brain, muddled with alcohol, was doing its best to keep things together, but with you suddenly here — looking like that — his chances were rapidly dwindling.

he adjusted his arm around your waist, a loose but deliberate gesture that made his heart stutter. it was a casual hold, or at least he hoped it looked casual, but the warmth of your body pressed lightly against his side was sending his brain into overdrive.

“and this,” he said, gesturing grandly with his free hand to what was very clearly the kitchen, “is where the magic happens.”

“the kitchen?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your lips quirked into a smile that had his knees dangerously close to giving out.

“obviously?!” he said, leaning into the theatrics to keep himself from spiraling. “you see that microwave? legendary. best instant ramen in town. and that fridge? it’s seen things. horrors, really. we don’t talk about it.”

you laughed, and he swore it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“right, sure,” you said, shaking your head. “what about actual food? do you ever cook anything that’s not from a packet?”

he gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “are you accusing me — me — of being a heathen who doesn’t know his way around a kitchen? i’ll have you know, i make a mean lassi.”

“oh, do you now?” you teased, clearly enjoying his antics.

“absolutely,” he said, grinning. “one day, i’ll prove it to you. you’ll be begging me to cook for you every day.”

“we’ll see,” you said, but there was a softness in your voice that made him wonder if you actually meant it.

his heart was racing now, the alcohol loosening his tongue in dangerous ways. he should probably stop talking. any second now.

“you know,” he said, his voice dropping slightly as he glanced down at you, “i can’t believe you came.”

“why wouldn’t i?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him, your expression curious but open.

he wanted to say because i thought you’d never want to be in the same space as me outside of class, but that felt too raw, too real. so instead, he shrugged, trying to play it off.

“i dunno,” he said, looking ahead. “you just… don’t seem like the house party type.”

“i’m not, usually,” you admitted. “but… i figured, why not? life’s too short to say no to everything.”

“huh,” he said, his voice softer now. “that’s… cool. you’re cool.”

“am i?” you asked, laughing lightly.

“so cool,” he said earnestly, and then immediately wanted to slap himself. shut up, satoru. shut. up.

but then you smiled at him, and he thought maybe he didn’t mind sounding like an idiot if it meant he got to see that look on your face.

as the two of you tried to navigate the packed living room, someone bumped into him, and instinctively, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer. you didn’t pull away, and he was pretty sure his heart was about to explode.

he tried not to think about how you fit so perfectly against his side, or how your scent — something faintly floral and familiar — was making him dizzy. he definitely tried not to think about how easy it would be to lean down and —

nope nope nope. bad idea. terrible idea. the worst idea.

“you okay?” you asked, looking up at him with a hint of concern.

“y-yeah!” he said, his voice a little too high-pitched. he cleared his throat, forcing a grin. “totally fine. just, uh, making sure you don’t get trampled.”

“how chivalrous,” you said, the corner of your mouth twitching as if you were holding back a laugh.

“always,” he said, his grin widening despite himself.

but inside, he was panicking. this was too much. you were too close, too warm, too everything. he needed to get his shit together before he did something stupid, like —

confess to you.

kiss you.

pass out.

or, god forbid, all three.

oh shit.

the bass thudded in your chest, a constant pulse that seemed to sync with the frenetic energy of the house. people were dancing, shouting, laughing, and the chaos around you was almost comforting in its anonymity. that is until satoru — flushed, swaying slightly, and clearly far more drunk than you’d initially realized — gripped your arm like it was a lifeline.

“i need to tell you something,” he blurted, his words loud but barely cutting through the music.

you blinked at him, trying to read his expression in the flickering multicolored lights. “what?” you shouted back, leaning closer to hear him.

he leaned in too, his mouth near your ear. “i said, i need to tell you something!”

“okay! so tell me!” you yelled back, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“i…” he trailed off, his face scrunching up in frustration as he tried to string his thoughts together. he took a deep breath and then, to your utter horror, yelled at the top of his lungs, “I LIKE YOU!”

you froze, sure you’d misheard him. the bass was too loud, the room too crowded, and his words had gotten lost somewhere in the noise.

“what?!” you shouted, your voice rising in disbelief.

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face, his cheeks flushed red— n ot just from the alcohol, you suspected. “I SAID —”

but even in his drunken state, he realized the futility of trying to out-shout the music. with a sound of pure exasperation, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you through the crowd. your protests fell on deaf ears as he led you to a slightly quieter corner, away from the worst of the noise.

“what are you doing, gojo?!” you hissed, but he didn’t answer.

instead, he pressed you gently against the wall, his palms flat against the surface on either side of your head, caging you in. his head dipped low, his nose brushing against yours, and your breath caught as his blue eyes, even hazy with alcohol, locked onto yours.

“i said,” he murmured, his voice lower now but no less intense, “i like you.”

your brain barely had time to register the words before he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. it was desperate, clumsy, and so full of unspoken emotion that it stole the air from your lungs.

you gasped against him, your hands instinctively coming up to grip his shoulders. the solid warmth of him under your fingers was grounding, but the way his body pressed against yours, shielding you from the world, sent your heart into a frenzy.

his lips moved against yours with an urgency that bordered on possessive, and when he tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, a small sound escaped you — something between a gasp and a moan.

that was when he pulled back, just enough to press his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.

“don’t… don’t pull away,” he whispered, and the vulnerability in his voice made your chest ache.

“gojo —”

“call me satoru,” he cut in, his eyes fluttering shut as if even saying the words was too much. “please.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, his body seemed to sway, his weight leaning more heavily against you.

“satoru, are you okay?” you asked, your hands sliding to his chest to steady him.

“huh?” he mumbled, his voice distant. then, with a slight slur, he muttered, “oh, no. no, no, no —”

and just like that, the man crumpled.

“satoru!” you yelped, barely managing to catch his ridiculously lanky frame before he hit the floor completely.

someone nearby shouted, “man down!” and the phrase seemed to echo through the room, followed by a ripple of concerned and amused voices.

“oh my god,” you muttered, crouching down beside him. his head lolled slightly, and his mouth was parted as he let out a faint snore.

he was out cold.

you pressed a hand to your face, your cheeks still burning from the kiss. the memory of his lips on yours was vivid enough to make your knees weak, but the reality of the situation — of this ridiculously tall, ridiculously dramatic man passing out at your feet — brought you crashing back down to earth.

“can someone help me with this idiot?” you called out, your voice tinged with equal parts exasperation and concern.

a couple of guys came over, one of them laughing as he said, “dude’s got no tolerance, huh?”

“none,” you muttered, sighing as you tried to get a grip on yourself — and satoru. his confession and the kiss replayed in your mind, and you knew you were in for a long night of trying to sort out your feelings.

for now, though, you had to deal with the immediate problem of hauling his ridiculously heavy frame to a couch. the emotional fallout could wait until tomorrow.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

the room had descended into a chaotic mess of unsolicited advice, mostly coming from half-drunk college students who thought they were experts on everything, including reviving a passed-out satoru.

“try shaking him harder!” someone shouted.

“just pour water on his face!” another chimed in.

“give him coffee. wait, do we even have coffee?”

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. amidst all this nonsense, nanami stood off to the side, arms crossed, his expression screaming this is beneath me.

“he’s not dead. just let him sleep it off,” kento said flatly, his voice cutting through the chatter.

“oh, thanks for the revolutionary advice, nanami,” you snapped, the sarcasm lacing your words.

then there was geto, leaning against the wall with an air of detached amusement. “honestly, i knew this would happen. saw it coming a mile away,” he said, flipping his hair dramatically.

“yeah? well, maybe next time warn the rest of us,” you shot back before turning your attention back to satoru’s unconscious form.

you knelt beside him, sighing deeply. “alright, everyone back off. i know how to handle this.”

“what are you gonna do?” someone asked, curious.

“something tried and tested.” you raised your hand high and delivered a firm slap across satoru’s cheek.

the sound was loud. so loud, in fact, that the room collectively gasped.

satoru bolted upright, clutching his face as if you’d just smacked the soul out of him. “what the hell was that?!” he screamed, his voice loud enough to rival the bass music that was still pounding in the background.

“welcome back to the land of the living, drama queen,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

“did you just slap me?!” he exclaimed, his wide, watery eyes staring at you like you’d betrayed him.

“oh, i’m sorry, was that not enough? i can do it again,” you said, raising your hand threateningly.

“no, no! i’m good! fully awake!” he yelped, scooting back like a scared puppy.

“good. now drink this,” you said, handing him a bottle of water.

satoru grabbed it, but instead of drinking, he sniffed it suspiciously. “this isn’t vodka, right?”

“no, genius,” nanmi said, stepping forward and plucking the actual vodka bottle from the floor. “this is vodka, and you’re done with it.”

“oh, c’mon, nanaminnnn, don’t be such a killjooyyyy!” satoru whined, though his pout faltered when you shot him a glare.

“shut up and drink the water, satoru,” you snapped.

he obeyed, gulping it down dramatically before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “ugh, water’s so boring.”

“you want excitement? i’ll slap you again,” you threatened, and a few people in the room snickered.

“you’re so mean,” satoru muttered, but then his gaze softened. “wait… you stayed.”

you blinked. “what?”

“you stayed,” he repeated, his voice quieter now. “even after… you know.”

“oh, you mean the part where you screamed out a love confession, kissed me like your life depended on it, and then passed out in front of half the student body?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“don’t remind me,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “i wanna die. nanamin, can you just — i don’t know — throw me out a window or something?”

“tempting,” kento muttered.

“look, dork,” you said, kneeling back down in front of him. “you’re not getting out of this one. you did all that, and now you have to deal with the consequences.”

“oh god,” satoru mumbled, peeking at you through his fingers. “what are the consequences?”

you tilted your head, pretending to think. “well, for starters, you owe me samosas for the rest of the semester.”

“done,” he said immediately.

“and,” you added, leaning in slightly, “you have to stop being such a dramatic idiot.”

“that one’s harder,” he said, flashing you a sheepish grin. “but for you? i’ll try.”

“good.” you stood up, brushing off your knees. “now, get your act together. and maybe next time, don’t drink yourself into oblivion before confessing to someone.”

“wait, does that mean —” he started, his eyes lighting up.

“i didn’t say anything!” you cut him off, walking away as the room erupted into laughter at his bewildered expression.

“she likes me,” satoru whispered to himself, a goofy grin spreading across his face.

“oh, shut up, satoru,” nanami said, but even he couldn’t entirely hide his smirk.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

it was almost miraculous, really, how none of these college kids managed to piece together the details of what actually went down at gojo’s house party. you’d think with all the drunken chaos, someone would’ve remembered you storming in like a heroine, slapping satoru awake, and then, well, the incident. but no. all they seemed to retain was that the super cool, smoking-hot assistant professor had swooped in to save satoru from... something.

the specifics? conveniently erased from their collective memory, thanks to cheap vodka and loud bass.

but you? you weren’t so lucky. gojo’s confession — or whatever that messy string of drunken words and one life-altering kiss could be categorized as — played on a loop in your head. not that you wanted it to, but come on, how were you supposed to forget the feel of his lips against yours, the way he’d pressed you against the wall like he couldn’t get close enough? and then, the audacity of the man to crumple to the floor like a marionette whose strings were cut? you still couldn’t decide if you wanted to slap him again or — ugh, no, you weren’t finishing that thought.

“stop,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples as you sat at your desk, the pile of papers you were supposed to grade staring back at you accusingly. “focus. you’re an adult, not a hormonal teenager.”

and yet, that little voice in your head — your grandma’s voice, no less — crooned in your mind, “what kind of boy is he? does he play cricket? is he an engineer?”

“no,” you grumbled under your breath, “he’s an overgrown man-child who flirts through samosas and makes me question my entire existence.”

the reality of it all was... you weren’t equipped for someone like gojo. back home, dating was simple. boring, but simple. you liked someone because they played cricket well or because their math grades could rival einstein’s. the bar was low, and your teenage self still barely scraped over it.

but satoru? he wasn’t just attractive in that this-is-gonna-get-me-into-trouble kind of way. no, he was ridiculously charming, stupidly funny, and utterly chaotic — so much so that he somehow managed to bulldoze his way past every defense you’d painstakingly built.

and that left you here, with a pile of grading untouched, your thoughts veering dangerously off-course.

what do i even do with him? you thought. he’s not even the type i should go for. he’s immature, irresponsible, a complete disaster of a human being…

... and yet, all you could picture was his stupidly lopsided grin when you’d handed back his essay. that grin that said, you gave me a B-, but i’m taking this as an A+ in your heart.

and then your mind went straight to climbing him. like a tree. a tall, stupid tree with an even stupider face.

“oh my god,” you muttered, dropping your head onto the desk. “get it together, girl.”

you groaned into the wood grain, mentally kicking yourself. this was getting out of hand. you needed to lock it in. focus. channel your inner no-nonsense professor and figure out how to deal with gojo without losing what little composure you had left.

and maybe — just maybe — figure out how the hell you were supposed to climb a man-child and maintain your dignity in the process.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo had been avoiding you — not intentionally, of course. he would never do that on purpose. it was just… he was terrified. 

gojo satoru, the guy who could ace a test he barely studied for, host the best parties on campus, and make a joke out of literally any situation, was absolutely crumbling under the weight of his own feelings. gojoism did not account for feelings like this. and yesterday? he’d completely fallen — literally and emotionally. now, there wasn’t a subreddit or thread in existence that could save him from the mess he’d created.

his shift was dragging, a mix of customers and yelling from his half-indian, half-japanese manager filling the air. his coworkers kept glancing at him like he was a stray dog caught in the rain, but he didn’t care. he was in the middle of wiping down tables when he caught sight of you through the window.

you. walking by. not even glancing toward the restaurant.

his heart sank. did you hate him now? was this how it was going to end?

without thinking, gojo bolted out the door, ignoring the string of colorful curses his manager hurled at him. “oi, boy! you’re paying for this if you don’t get your ass back here!”

he didn’t stop. the second he caught up to you, he practically tackled you from behind, arms wrapping around you so tightly you almost dropped your satchel.

“what the hell, gojo —”

“please don’t move!” he blurted, his face buried in your shoulder and neck, his lanky limbs curling around you like some desperate octopus. you froze, unsure whether to be annoyed, amused, or alarmed.

“are you serious right now?”

“yes! extremely!” his voice was muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “listen, i’m an idiot. the biggest idiot ever. i shouldn’t have kissed you like that while i was drunk. or passed out. or confessed. or all three. god, that was so stupid. i’m so stupid.”

you sighed, your heart racing at how tightly he held you. “satoru, what are you doing?”

“i’m fixing this. please, just — lemme say this. properly this time.” he tightened his hold even more, as if letting go wasn’t an option. “i like you. a lot. like, so much it’s actually pathetic. and i know i’m a dumbass most of the time, and i mess things up, but i promise i’m serious about you. so, like… if you don’t feel the same way, you can say no. just don’t hate me, okay? i can’t deal with you hating me.”

you felt his breath against your neck, his voice wavering just enough to make your chest ache.

“satoru…” you started, turning your head slightly to glance at him, his stupidly handsome face now fully pressed against you.

“say something,” he mumbled, the weight of his confession sinking deeper into the air.

you turned in his arms, making him loosen his grip just enough for you to face him. his blue eyes were wide and unsure, a rare sight from the usually cocky gojo satoru.

“you done?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“uh… yeah?” he said, unsure.

without another word, you grabbed his collar, pulling him down to meet you as your lips pressed against his. the world seemed to fade away — his coworkers, the restaurant, the yelling manager. all of it dissolved as he melted into the kiss, his hands sliding down to hold your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

when you finally broke apart, his lips parted in shock, his cheeks flushed. “wait, does this mean —”

“yes, you absolute idiot,” you huffed, shoving at his chest lightly, though you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

he grinned, wide and stupid. “i knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“oh, shut up before i change my mind.”

“never,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again, completely ignoring the cheers of his coworkers from the restaurant door.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

did you expect to be leaving japan with a full-grown manchild trailing behind you? absolutely not. but here you were. did you expect to cheer for said manchild when he finally got his degree? obviously. the man deserved it — barely, but he did.

you’d both agreed to keep things under wraps, citing the whole student-teacher dynamic as a big no-no. so, of course, when the graduation ceremony rolled around, satoru had to make things dramatic. he dropped to one knee — mid-stage — held his degree out like a trophy, and loudly declared, “this is my phd in loving you!”

“that’s not a phd, satoru,” you muttered, face buried in your hands as the crowd chuckled.

“close enough!” he beamed, earning a mix of applause and groans from his peers.

graduation break was spent in the usual push and pull — you pushing him away from his over-the-top antics, him pulling you right back into his orbit with that ridiculous grin. every time his pout got too exaggerated, you’d give him a quick kiss just to shut him up, which only made things worse because he’d cheer. cheer. in public. like a child who just got a gold star.

“you’re the worst,” you mumbled after one particularly dramatic cheer, covering your face as passersby laughed at his antics.

“and yet, here you are, willingly in my presence,” he shot back, smug as ever.

“god help me,” you groaned.

satoru, of course, wasn’t just sunshine and chaos with you — he had this annoying charm that endeared him to literally everyone. the aunties who came by the restaurant giggled like teenagers when he served them, and the little kids gathered around him like he was a walking anime character. “white-haired older brother” became his unofficial nickname, and satoru leaned into it hard, regaling them with wildly exaggerated tales of his life.

“and then, i fought off a gang of ninjas to save her,” he’d say, winking in your direction.

“satoru, stop lying to children!”

he’d just shrug, grinning wider. “it’s not lying if it’s entertaining.”

it was funny how he’d originally gotten the part-time job just to talk to you, but now he genuinely liked it. still, some habits died hard — he continued to bring you samosas daily, despite your protests.

“satoru, if you don’t stop, i’m going to develop a permanent aversion to these,” you warned, eyeing the familiar paper bag he held out to you.

“blasphemy!” he gasped, clutching the bag to his chest like you’d insulted his firstborn.

eventually, he started pestering you about meeting your parents.

“so, when can i meet them?” he asked one afternoon, grinning like he’d already been invited.

“never,” you deadpanned, whacking him on the chest for good measure.

unbeknownst to him, you’d already told your parents about him. they were eager to meet the man who’d apparently stolen your heart and managed to survive your stubbornness.

all in due time, though. for now, satoru could continue proudly showing off his “phd in loving you.” and maybe, just maybe, you were okay with letting him.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

[epilogue]

it felt almost surreal how gojo transitioned from serving at the restaurant to outright owning it. the previous manager had retired with teary eyes, handing the keys over to satoru with a heartfelt, “please, i beg you, don’t ruin this place. my wife and kids will haunt you if you do.”

gojo, in true fashion, had laughed, draping an arm around the man. “don’t worry! i’ll make this place legendary. maybe even name it after me.”

“over my dead body!” the manager had shot back.

and, of course, satoru didn’t miss the chance to ask you, “so, when’s it gonna be us? two kids, a little restaurant legacy — what do you say?”

you smacked him on the back of his head, rolling your eyes. “focus on not burning the place down first, romeo.”

under gojo’s ownership, the restaurant thrived — though not without his signature flair. he introduced a new “special offer,” one that quickly turned into a local superstition: if two people shared a plate of samosas, they’d fall in love, and their love life would prosper.

“just like us,” gojo would tease every chance he got, holding up a plate dramatically.

“you’re insufferable,” you’d reply, trying not to laugh.

but you couldn’t argue with results, especially after dragging this white-haired menace home to meet your parents. they’d absolutely adored him, of course, stuffing him with so much food you swore he left glowing.

“your mom’s cooking? divine. i’d marry you just for the biryani,” he joked, leaning back against the car seat as you drove to the airport.

“good to know your priorities,” you shot back, though your smile betrayed your words.

and as much as satoru joked about weddings and kids, the two of you agreed there was no rush. after all, between the restaurant, his endless antics, and your job, life was already chaotic enough. not that gojo made your work any easier — especially during exam season.

“paper checking is ruining us,” he’d complain dramatically, sprawled across the couch as you ignored him in favor of a particularly stubborn essay.

“us?” you raised an eyebrow, not looking up.

“yes, us,” he insisted, standing up to scoop you into his lap without warning.

“satoru!”

“what? if you’re gonna ignore me, at least let me help,” he said, plopping a spoonful of biryani in your mouth.

you glared at him, but he just grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. and as much as you hated to admit it, moments like this were when you realized just how good life was.

chaotic? absolutely. ridiculous? always. but trading it for anything else? not a chance.

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[gibsongirled]

HOME !!

description: you decided to visit schlatt in new york.

a/n: still kinda on hiatus, but i didn't want to leave yall hanging 😔 another fic's coming some time in december, trust 🙏

You hated rain in New York.

But you couldn’t complain too much when you were only visiting for a week. The rain had started when you landed. Intense splashes against the airport windows made you frown as the sky above darkened and thunder crackled in the distance, causing you to let out a sigh as you hailed for a taxi. You concluded after multiple visits to the city that the weather in New York was bipolar to say the least. Time Square was cool and the pizza was cool too. You had hoped to say the weather was cool like the rest of the things you listed off, but it was not.

Your shoes and jacket were wet by the time you clobbered up the stairs in his apartment building, your hair had managed to survive, but it was still damp in some places. One hand pulled your suitcase up on the stairs as you shook your umbrella, rain droplets coating the steps. Once in a while, you’d stick by the wall like a fly, letting people pass you by. Apartments in New York were the size of a shoebox and you shuddered to think about the rent - no way someone could afford to live here. People in the Big Apple either had family money or they sold crack on the streets, that’s what you remembered someone talking about it on some social media platform. You couldn’t keep up with the amount of sites that had popped up in the recent years. You only ever managed to circle through four apps and even then they were too much. (You logged out of Twitter each time you tweeted because what the fuck was that damn app on?)

You knocked on the door, letting your hand fall back down to your side as you waited a few seconds. Usually, your spur of the moment, impulsive ideas tend to backfire on you - like when you decided to surprise your family for Thanksgiving, only to find out that everyone was out of town and your key didn’t work - you had forgotten that the front door was replaced after your brother accidentally kicked it in. Your mother still tells that story to anyone who was willing to listen, and you just kept sliding down in your seat in a fit of embarrassment, hoping that God would make you disappear. You could hear some cursing and loud clattering on the other side of the door, causing you to a face as you questioned what was going on in there.

The doorknob rattled and the door swung open, making Schlatt blink in confusion as he looked at you like you’ve grown multiple heads in the span of a five hour flight from LA to New York. He said your name and you nodded, he blinked and said it again - to which you nodded again. His confusion was justified as you were supposed to be in LA and not in New York. And definitely not in front of his apartment looking like a soaked cat.

“So, you gonna let me in?” You started, running a hand through your damp hair. “The rain outside is terrible, I don’t even know how you-” Your almost rant was cut off by Schlatt closing the door in your face. Uhm okay then, wow. You were going to be offended, but he opened the door once again, having the realization that you standing in front of his apartment wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He should probably get more sleep.

“Sorry,” Schlatt sheepishly mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, looking tired. Jambo and Soup meowed loudly behind him, making you laugh while he grumbled. “You’re supposed to be in LA,” he said once he ushered you into the apartment, dragging your suitcase along the floor, making the cats jump around as they sniffed and pawed at the suitcase, trying to figure out what it was.

“I finished the thing early,” you closed the door with a small click, “thought I’d surprise you.”

Schlatt let out a laugh, “Yeah, you definitely surprised me. Coulda sworn I was hallucinatin’ for a sec there.”

“I missed you,” you told him as the two of you stood together in the living room, the city outside now dark with lights turning on.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, mumbling. “I missed you too.”

[paralleljoys]

Leona Thoughts! Big Big Leona Thoughts!

I’m only going off of snippets of the chapter described by others and the one video on youtube that is still in Japanese so this might be inaccurate but for right now this is my opinion on why Leona’s dream played out like it did.

[TLDR: Leona’s pride, loneliness, and self-doubt is so strong that his dream cannot become canon-divergent without risking waking him up.]

We already know that the dreamer’s can only dream when the “reality” of the dream is sustained. And that “reality” bends depending on how imaginative or delusional the dreamer is. Which gets us things like Doodlebob!Floyd and Buff!Epel. We know that the magic of the dream will work to keep the dreamer asleep.

“Leona is the type of person to know when he’s dreaming” was what Idia said and I think that he was right.

When we get a dreamer like Leona, who is so rooted in reality and how he knows the world to work, his wildest and happiest dreams would absolutely bend the dream to the point of waking him. So his dream is reality.

To become king in reality, Leona’s talents would have to be recognized or he’d have to be the only option. If he was recognized then he’d be king already so the reality where he is chosen over his father, Falena, or Cheka doesn’t exist.

So, they get in an accident, his father succumbs to his illness, no other choice is available but Leona. It’s not how he wanted to get there, but in “reality” that is the only option for Leona.

And he stays realistic throughout his dream. He’d be king by circumstance and no one would want him. He’d enact his plans but no one will support him. He’d fail as a king and his people will reject him. Looking at who Leona is, I personally think this wouldn’t be true. The Savanaclaw students trust him as their leader for a reason, why wouldn’t there be people in his country willing to listen to him?

Regardless, in Leona’s wonderfully pessimistic worldview he will continue to be unwanted, even when he has what he wanted most. Leona understands both himself and others to the point that he subconciously recognizes how his pride would be his downfall but he can’t acknowledge it yet. He’d push everyone away until only the hyenas are left.

This understanding pushes itself into the way that the people close to Leona manifested. The people didn’t support him because why would they? He’s a replacement for Falena, not their chosen King. He can keep the hyenas with him, but the moment the food is gone he knows they wouldn’t stick around. The fact that Ruggie appeared as a protestor in the crowd instead of someone at his side shows how transactional Leona views their relationship to be. Then there’s Kifaji, his caretaker who stayed with Leona his whole life and arguably the closest character to Leona. The man will beg and plead for him to be a proper king, no matter how far from it Leona strays, because Kifaji is diligent or better yet, tenacious. Either way a truth is that Kifaji will not abandon the King. Meaning that even at his worst he believes Kifaji would never leave him, so long as he’s King.

But what did Lilia admonish him for in Chapter 2? Not for attacking Diasomnia, but for having a sensitive ego that directs his anger at his retainers. That is what Lilia says makes Leona unfit to rule.

And in his dream he takes the abuse from his people. He takes the rejection and the insults. He is still King. He is still King until he tries to hurt one of his people, Ruggie. That’s when Kifaji stops him. Because he is no longer King when he turns his anger on his people. And that’s when he runs away. That’s when he sinks deeper into his dream.

[Thank you for reading this far but that’s all I have to say! It’s more my delusions but it’s there nonetheless. I wish I had gotten into the Lion Guard because I know there’s themes from that that could explain more aspects of Leona and his dream.]

[brynn-lear]

Paper Canes (Yandere!Capitano/Reader)

Chapter 3 overview: Some people bet on their lives, some bet on their death. Alice of the Hexenzirkel had to learn that in a rather unsettling way.

CW/Tags: slowburn/soft yandere themes, afab!reader, unrequited love/obsession. While this fic isn't "too dark", the reader isn't mentally stable. Please prioritize your health first, you matter.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2

You're always unhappy around Alice.

Alice is, by every account there is to be counted for, a very whimsical woman and a non-traditional mother— someone who will certainly die unconquered. If there comes a time when there would be no naysayers to disparage her name, then it would be safe to assume you no longer reside in Teyvat. The Tsaritsa duly noted your fervent distaste for her. You've sent infertile insults on her way and turned malicious thoughts into plans once or twice, but that fiery woman is no different from a cockroach. Christening the formula, you were certain you'd molded your schedule perfectly to avoid her mischievous gaze. Alas, you were wrong, and being wrong makes you unhappy—

Unhappy to have yourself wholly examined.

"I'm glad I roped you into a tea party with me! Here I thought I was shooting in the dark when I guessed you'd take the long way back."

This encounter happened on October 20th three years ago.

The year you lost your youth.

"If you're so painfully aware of how much I do not want to be here, why go to such lengths?" You grumbled, less of a question and more of an attitude show.

Alice poured you a cup of tea. In a way, you envied her. The iridescent flecks in her crimson pupils, the silky cream hair that drapes on her shoulder… a woman of her description was worth making a monolith for. What a shame that this was not your flavor.

Capitano's honestly far more gorgeous. But the last time you told him that, he said you shouldn't tease him.

"Isn't it obvious?" She laughed awkwardly, thanking good fortune for crafting an environment wherein you'd stab her with words, not weapons. "I'm not about to let a cute lovelorn woman ruin her chances of romance, you know?"

"Romance?" You scoffed.

Before you were Granny (Y/n), you were that "attention whore" of a harbinger. Your strength lies in forming connections and throwing extravagant social events. Balls, tea parties— you name it. It's what caught the Hexenzirkel's attention in the first place. No discrimination between humble folk and high culture. You were THE woman people seek as a medium for self-expression.

Though, if you were frank to anyone who would be willing to listen, you have got to be the most secretly antisocial host that ever graced public spaces. Outside those play-pretends, you keep to yourself.

So what the hell is she talking about?

"If you were reading your life as a novel, you'd swoon!" Alice grinned. "You know, the most you'll lose is some time and energy, but the most you'll gain is a lifetime with the Captain!"

Unlikely. If you were leafing through the pages of that novel, you'd see clearly how you went from going through life with spontaneous survival tactics before diving headfirst to unplanned survivor's guilt. Not that misery was ever willingly placed in one's schedule, of course.

"Don't care." You glared. "Don't use my life as a basic framework of history to write a cheap and marketable romance. I'm not a damsel in distress."

Alice laughed behind her painted nails. "Can you even defend yourself if I chucked a glove at you?"

"Do you want a show of hands?" You raised an eyebrow, irritated. "If so, there's nothing for me to demonstrate, I'm not—"

"Strong as you used to be." Alice's smile faltered. "Because you're giving up on the greatsword, right?"

She hovered her hand above yours hesitantly, before tenderly circling your palm with her thumb.

"I see through your facade; I know that your strength is dwindling." She sighed. "You're worried that you're falling behind—"

"I am. Mine may have slowed down thanks to the boughkeeper's help and pity, but I'm still rotting. The honor of strength is one I can freely do without. I'm confident I can still obliterate you."

"Indeed." Alice's eyebrows furrowed. "But is that any excuse to allow Pulcinella to plot against your back? To let him sweep that title off your feet and give it to a child who shouldn't be in danger?"

Ah, so this is what this is about. Not your non-existent love life.

Alice wasn't harassing for the sake of shenanigans. She wanted your hold on the 11th seat to remain firm so that a child wouldn't be forced into a life of hardship.

Subjectively neglectful as she may be, she is still a mother.

"Who says I want to continue being a harbinger?"

Alice froze upon hearing that challenging remark.

"Ruffie—"

"Don't call me that." You slammed a hand on the table, making not only those resting on the top jump but Alice as well. The table cracked. "If a kid replaces me, then so be it. Why should I give a damn?!"

What kind of self-absorbed fool would grieve over an empire of dirt?

Alice didn't look at you. Instead, her unsteady gaze was on the pack of cards that nearly fell off the edge.

You picked it up and snapped.

"What? You wish to play?"

Alice cleared her throat. The smile resurfaced on her face, eager to return the momentum she once had. "S-Sure! Why don't we play a game?"

As she was about to reach for the pack, you pulled it back.

"Hmm. I don't want to," you droned. "Let's have a bet."

Alice paled slightly. "A bet?"

"Don't think I haven't heard of your tales. I know you have a penchant for making others' lives infinitely worse." You put the deck down. "So, why not strike a deal."

"I didn't invite you here to make an enemy out of you."

"It's a friendly competition." You remarked. "I believe you'll agree to my terms."

Alice shifted from her seat. "Oh, okay then, I'm listening."

"Since you so badly want me to remain as the 11th, if you win I'll do as you wish. When challenged by that child Ajax, I won't hold back and let him scamper back." You shook the box. "However, if I win…"

You paused.

After scavenging through the shelves of your mind, finding a desire for fulfillment was surprisingly a chore. That isn't to say you have the world in your palms. There was no grand wish to shock her. If anything, what you wished was simple…

"Rest assured, Tsaritsa will say yes to an upcoming babyface." You smiled outwardly. "And you have to create a potion for me in return, witch."

"A potion…?" Alice batted her eyes, and suddenly, her mood lightened. "Could it be… You want a love potion too?!"

…

The room dropped a few degrees.

"Get a grip."

"K-Kidding, kidding!!!"

"And what do you mean by too?" The words slipped past you without a second thought. As you were about to retract them, thinking yourself above mindless gossip, Alice answered:

"Capitano asked if true love potions are possible, but started chickening out because of his morals— or at least something to that effect." Alice giggled. "He was so flustered and oddly ashamed of himself, you should've seen him!"

…

No, you'd rather not. Ignorance is bliss when it comes to your old friend. Whatever excites him is his business, not yours.

…

After a few rounds of silence, you spoke up.

"Wow, Alice." You said. "You are terrible at this."

The woman was set on making Klee shine, but her grasp of Kaeya's card mechanics failed her. She forgot that his burst demands a character switch to trigger its effect— a misstep that voided her melt strategy. Kaeya's card is squandered under her shaky command. Alice was left clinging to a dying Klee and Jean, the game slipping further from her grasp.

But all is fair in love and war.

You're shit at the game too.

Sure, she might have fumbled by leaving her last Jean card unequipped, but at least she wasn't as cursed by bad luck as you were with dice rolls and card draws. Broken Rime's Echo was the only gem in a heap of trash. Simply put, you've lost Columbina and a Pyro agent card.

You're deadset on winning with a terrible hand— she's locked in on having her precious golden child as the claimer of spoils.

Alice has her daughter, while you have…

"Isn't this adorable? You have your knight in shining armor with you!"

"He's not." You rolled your eyes. He knows what he truly is, and it's certainly not "your" knight.

"I could use a couple of astrology readings to check your compatibility~"

"No. Your readings are usually not just comments, but an arm-chair doctor level diagnosis."

"Yet I'm helpful, aren't I? Perhaps I've garnered polarizing reviews, but I was still deemed a wonderful advisor."

You glared.

"I'd give you your flowers; I'm certain you have helped many sort out their… issues. But I don't need your help or perceived pity. I'm rowing life smooth sailing."

You used Capitano's burst.

Jean gracefully exited the battle with a soft murmur about Mondstadt.

"Oh no, Jean!..." Alice looked genuinely upset. "Well, you don't have to say it, I can tell you need friends. One that wouldn't inflict…what does your coworker call it? Ah, right— vicarious trauma."

Getting personal huh? What a sour loser.

You laughed a little too loud, bitter. "Vicarious trauma… That's an even bolder diagnosis."

Once people are done singing praises, anyone can see you've lost more friends to "drowning" than you have in wars.

Alice cooed. "Still, you didn't deny that you need a partner— a soulmate. So why not let the lovesick Captain in?"

…

You quietly took a sip.

It's chamomile tea. Your favorite.

Which so happens to also be Capitano's. That man has a habit of forming his own opinions only after hearing yours.

Does he think having a lot in common means you'd reciprocate his feelings too?

… Surely not, he's smarter than that.

"His goals do not align with mine. He's best suited for a woman who would settle down. If you care so much, why not recommend him to one of your lady friends?"

"Everyone in Teyvat knows who he has eyes for."

"Ugh. Stop boring me with your half-baked drivels."

"Don't you pity him, even just a little bit?" Alice's voice softened. "Considering what he's going through right now?"

You froze.

There was a time… There was a time when he almost had a family of his own. But "his" poor dau—

You shook your head.

"I don't." You insisted.

"You're adorable— and a terrible liar to boot. Did you know that you keep looking up like Celestia would strike you for lying?" Alice sighed.

Upon having that epiphany, you fixed your collar and made a loud mental note to fix that habit.

You drew a card.

…

Seelie and Fatui Conspiracy.

You held back a grin.

Columbina… was she to praise for this dumb luck?

After a few rounds, you've activated both while Alice placed Liben and healed with sweet madame.

Capitano's on the brink of death.

How typical of him. Almost nostalgic.

"You'll lose," Alice said bluntly. "You really should think Capitano over. You're just hurting him and yourself by pretending not to know his feelings…"

You droned out her ramblings. None of that matters. You'd sooner get dressed for this stupid card game than a love confession.

There it is.

The seelie had its 3rd stack.

It gave you Adeptus Temptation.

…

But you don't have enough dice so you had to tune for cryo for now.

Klee had close enough energy for a burst, but Alice decided to play safe and heal.

You laughed, smiling at her without breaking eye contact.

"I was supposed to protect her, Alice. But I chose to host parties. When she lay in the hospital for her first, second, third, the fourth surgery, waiting for me, I sent a letter instead. I made an oath to protect her but what did I do? I sent two lousy paragraphs for some agent to read. And you think I have the heart to play sweet dolly in your game of house?"

You let out a short chuckle, the type only visible when the body slightly moves. Your disbelief is palpable, and your voice cold.

"You're funny, Alice. I'll give you that." You glared. "But you're too distracted."

Neither of you mentioned her name.

Was it out of respect or shame?

Who knows.

You don't want to remember her either way.

You made the last move.

…

…

…

"I… lost?"

"Wow, really, wow I never would've guessed you'd lose." You replied dryly. "It was such a close match too, oh wow."

You shrugged. "It's honestly so disappointingly anticlimactic the way you lost. Aren't you supposed to be a master of all things immature?"

Capitano wouldn't have won if it weren't for the attack boost. The last support card buffed his damage by 3 points… You'd thank him and Columbina after this but they wouldn't understand TCG.

"You mean childlike— oh whatever, that's not the point!" Alice whined. "I demand a rematch!"

"Denied. It's time you honor our deal."

She sighed. Alice slowly knocked her forehead on the table, deflating like a pathetic balloon.

"Fine… What do you want?" Alice pouted. "Is there anything in life you could want anyway?"

Yes.

Yes, there is.

There is something intangible that you wish to grasp for yourself but slips through your fingers.

You loosened up, your harsh stare replaced with a lazy smile.

Before uttering words like a prayer before the crusade.

"From here on out, I'll officially give up on both my title as a harbinger and my greatsword."

Victory was claimed. And maybe it was wishful thinking, but someday you hoped…

"Might as well replace it with a cane."

That this tragedy will be bested by another.

With what else, but Death itself?

Today is October 20th.

It's been a full year since you've taken this conventionally unappealing form. Conventional to Dottore's goals, at least.

"You must be Granny (Y/n)!" A floating fairy approached you, both hands on her back with a curious expression. "You asked the traveler to help you shop right?"

"That's right," you feigned a weak smile. "Would you all be cute little darlings and accompany a grandma for lunch?"

They both saw an elderly woman, covered in small bandages to hide the disgusting rot. You wore a humble peach blouson dress and sandals. Picture the perfect image of an old money retired widow squandering her resources for life's simple joys.

Hook, line, sinker.

"Of course! Leave it to the Traveler and Paimon to help you!" Paimon cheered, tugging Lumine, who smiled in response.

Lumine is a sweet little lady.

Not that she's young, mind you. The lass' lifespan can't be belittled. But just as you'd let her believe you're a grandmother, you'd wrongly treat her like a granddaughter. Conventional wisdom, as Dottore would say. And convenience doesn't mean right.

Watching Lumine's eyes, though dim, feign cheerfulness made you chuckle. You have to admire the girl; her mud-splattered legs and worn-out cape surely signify adventure. She reminds you of her brother. The prince had a knack for finding trouble, too— even though you'd argue Dainsleif is worse than him.

"So, what do you want to eat?"

You smiled and pulled out a ridiculously long list. "My pearl companions just couldn't stop raving about these delightful flavors ever since they got their dentures sorted, so of course, I simply had to try them myself!"

The rest of the conversation flowed smoothly, much to your chagrin. Being a conversationalist has its perks, but you seriously wish aiding Dottore was not one of them. You admitted you don't have enough knowledge to dispense good judgment on what to spend— and Paimon dominated the recommendations with food.

To be honest, sweets no longer excite you. You're used to war rations. Desserts as a pleasure are characteristically superficial in value.

But here you are, licking Natlan's rock candy desserts like a child…

"I was wary about trekking here in Natlan. I've never seen travelers who came from this nation— thought this was a fantasy land when I was a young lass!" You feigned worry. "I've only heard that they enjoy gladiator matches."

"Yeah, kinda!" Paimon spoke. "Paimon thinks they really like to grow strong. It might just be their love language!"

Is that right?… That reminds you of someone.

Someone with an imposingly tall figure and soft ocean gaze.

"The locals might have mythologized tough love as useful trauma." You hummed, amused. "Then again, their archon is a human, not the Tsaritsa. Natlan's ingrained belief to die and be reborn so patriotically is worthy of close inspection. Perhaps I assumed we shared the same values since those are what the nation I hailed from taught."

You rarely explore, so it's not in your best interest to push your own uninformed beliefs onto another's culture when yours also has its flaws. The masses will always be influenced by dogmatic forms of traditions. This is just Natlan's vibrant flavor.

Though Lumine teetered on musing about how Lady Furina is human herself, a witness must remain a witness. Not that Arlecchino didn't report about this months ago.

"Where are you from, Granny?"

You chuckled. "Where else but Snezhnaya, dear?"

"Ooooh that makes sense!" The fairy buzzed excitedly.

Not Snezhnaya. Khaenri'ah. But they don't need to know that yet.

Lumine stared at you. You're certain she's already figured out the truth. With those eyes of yours, you'll have to push that you're a 'descendant'. Only a matter of time before she'd act on her curiosity.

"Oh, how does it make sense, pray tell?" You closed your eyes as you sipped your soda. Too sweet for your aged tastes, but manageable.

"P-Paimon didn't mean anything bad by it!"

"Well, I wasn't assuming that you were going to say a bad thing about my homeland, Paimon. That is, unless, that's what your darling head was mulling over?" You teased.

You're no stranger to the two's estranged relationship with the Fatui. It's all Tartaglia ever talked about in letters addressed to you.

The flustered guide turned to Lumine frantically. "T-Traveler, a little help please!"

Before the traveler could come up with a lousy excuse, the souring dragons had snatched your attention swiftly. The rhythm of their flight made you stare up in awe—

And bittersweet nostalgia.

"Ruffie…" You muttered.

Lumine tilted her head curiously, which snapped you out of your trance.

"W-Where was I? Ah, yes." You cleared your throat. "Natlan's views are so needlessly breathtaking. Each generous ray is no different from the golden strokes of a weathered paintbrush. Even with my poor eyesight, I can still spot the river below us, glittering like powdered azure. The nation moves and rests at once."

You sighed, feigning your happiness enough that it became the truth. "Fascinating, is it not?"

"Huh, Paimon didn't know you can be so poetic."

"One can be poetic when they describe something worth seeing. Though I wouldn't dare say it beats my homeland when I know Snezhnaya is my home." You forced a smile.

"Only a fool would swiftly divorce knowledge; you'd do well to remember that, young ones."

'You are mine in this life, and if there is another life beyond Teyvat, then you are mine in there as well.'

'Yours? Is this yet another vow of loyalty? You shouldn't utter such words carelessly, lest you'll be misunderstood. Do not chain yourself to these ruined bones.'

'… I'm afraid you are the one who misunderstands.'

'Either way, you must learn not to sacrifice so much. A bleeding heart like yours must steel his resolve to be a true Captain.'

Capitano will never forget those bold words he uttered directly in your stunned face one passionate evening. He remembers, now fondly, how hard his grip on his sword was and how white his knuckles were. You, three years ago, stood as the 11th to the 1st— yet the distance in your strength was far from outmatched. Divided only by a mere fraction.

Yet here he was, back on the scenic cliff where you and he had that conversation. Admittedly, that exchange would not have happened if the locals hadn't lent liquid courage. He'd long forgotten what the collaboration mission was, but he'd be damned if he forgot the celebration. When his expedition team grew rowdy with their shenanigans, Capitano groggily asked you to accompany him for a walk. Since you kept mostly to yourself at the time, you gladly took his hand and saw unfitting yourself out of the lively scene.

Today is October 20th.

What a day to reminisce.

Just by standing here on Tetipac Peak, he could almost hear what was from five years past. Sense it, even. Once, you brushed strands of his hair out of his eyes and gazed softly. It was as if it was only you and him- the village and his men nearby ceased existing. Just you, him, and Natlan's gorgeous views.

That simple gesture alone fattened the greedy beast inside him. One that would hastily discard morality for a mere taste.

That simple gesture alone repurposed the prison in his mind into a sanctuary.

'Gorgeous.'

'G… Gorgeous? With this tiring visage?'

That was the first and last time someone called him that.

'You've no idea how much that makes you even more enchanting. Hmm, hmm. You have beautiful blue eyes, Captain. A gaze that pierces through one's soul is a powerful asset. If I were born in your body, I'd certainly elevate my status in one way or another.'

'… A face as scarred as mine? An asset?'

'I adore your scars. Those are marks that tell a hundred tales. I'm jealous of your men who all have the privilege of seeing that face every day.'

'… Then perhaps this is a face I'd only let you see.'

'Haha! And then what? Do you intend to wear a mask or helmet often?'

'... Perhaps. I'm aware that I'm beyond repair—'

"Lord Capitano."

He blinked, turning around. Capitano shouldn't have daydreamed so deeply. It's been a while since he had failed to sense another's presence. One of his people knelt before him, despite her cool demeanor, a good captain could tell that matters plagued her mind.

"Elena. Is there something to report?"

It is far from uncommon for Elena to appear when Capitano is in his lonesome. He has specifically instructed the fatuus for this discreet duty. A trained eye may be misguided in speculating the nature of Elena's loyalty— but the truth is there's nothing beyond the usual master and servant. If masters normally instruct their servants to spy on the object of their desire, that is.

"Yes, sir," Elena spoke. "Granny (Y/– Lady Ruffiana has departed to the restaurant at the People Of The Springs, sir. She is with company."

He hummed. Before, Elena would much rather work on paperwork taller than her stature than assist a grandmother's spine. However, as his blue eyes assessed her sharply, the lines on her forehead tallied more genuine concern than before.

…

"Come… Come again?"

"She has decided to hire someone from the Adventurer's Guild to accompany her to lunch, Lord Capitano."

…

Capitano, ranked first of the Fatui Harbingers, was rendered mute.

Maybe he didn't hear that right.

"A restaurant in the People of the Springs? I believe I have heard about it... Golden Dusk, yes?" Capitano looked away.

...

"Is there something on your mind, my Lord?"

"Golden Dusk... is that not a… place for young adults to court? As a lunch... date... of sorts?" He tensed up slightly. "Why would she? And with who, Elena? I believe you are wise enough to investigate their name."

Elena blinked.

The word date in this context sounds foreign when born out of the strapping Captain's battle-weary lips. Futile as it was, she bit her tongue and made certain no comment about how weak he came across. Worse, he was completely unaware of this. Just replaying the dry despairing sound in her head felt wicked.

Besides, a date is what he first thought of? This is (Y/n) they're talking about. She could just be sizing someone up.

How whipped is he? It's a famous tourist destination. Elena swears it's as if everyone but Capitano knows that his affections for (Y/n) have been broadcast to Teyvat several times. The art of subtlety is lost to him.

… It shouldn't surprise her. Capitano is also rotting, so much worse than your case.

Capitano isn't your knight in shining armor.

He feels his bones erode, mixing with his blood like a sickening fruit juice. The vile dark and metallic liquid that frequently visits his tastebuds reminds him how little time he has.

Capitano's obsession over you is no doubt a public spectacle.

Maybe to him, he's just a loser in a tin foil.

And yet, Elena knows that no matter how much his eyes dim, those piercing blue stares still reflect your visage. Ex-eleventh to everyone but reigns as one in his heart. It's cheesy, it's cliché, it's sickeningly sweet- it's Capitano, a man desperately in love.

Elena was wrong about one thing, though. Capitano suspects you know about his feelings.

She very kindly answered. "She's with the traveler, my Lord. Ruffiana had told us that should you ask, the money you had lent her last night was for commissioning Miss Lumine."

Quickly, the tension disappeared from his shoulders. He pinched his temple. Ah, of course. Befriending Persons of Interests has always been La Ruffiana's modus operandi—

He stilled, eyebrows furrowed.

As much as Capitano loathes to acknowledge this, you are no longer a Fatui Harbinger and therefore have been stripped of that duty.

"...What for?"

Truth be told, he's unsure if he wants the answer. Receiving the straightforward assumption might be akin to seeking his ruin.

Elena looked at him with a face that asked why he was troubled by this. He shot a furtive glance over Elena's shoulder. That shy motion confirmed her suspicion.

Here he goes again. For a split second, Elena hoped his curiosity stemmed from a work-related issue rather than whatever this was.

"... To… spend time with her, sir. That's what she said when Felix asked."

Elena didn't know either; she was running on vague inferences. Before you left, you said you wished to get to know the traveler more. You've even asked Capitano's informant, Ashe, for her preferences, attitude, what she would like to eat, and more…

Shit.

In a sense, it does sound disastrously like a date, doesn't it…

"Elena."

"Yes, Lord Harbinger?"

"Move my plans for a later date, report to the Archon that I have another urgent matter at hand."

"P-Pardon?!" Elena's eyes widened. Is he serious?!

She then saw that glint in his eyes. Though only for a brief moment and an inopportune angle— there was a melancholic and faraway stare from the man who towered over her. He had his lips pursed, distraught like an abandoned puppy.

Grieving for a woman who never wanted him.

'You're the bane of my duties. But without you, my purpose seemingly lacks meaning. You make me whole, (Y/n).'

'Haha, I'm your bane huh? Drunken words sure let out sobering confessions.'

'… Is that crude joke all you've concluded from my loving words?'

'What's that?'

'… It is nothing. Forget that I have wasted a smattering of your time.'

Elena cast her gaze downwards. Better not speak of it out loud.

"Of course. Would you like assistance in—"

"Yes, please, if you would." Capitano cleared his throat. "I assume you know what to do. Let us make haste."

"Understood, Captain."

Taglist: @macaronilovingracoon, @lucienbarkbark, @meimeimeirin, @notthefib987, @meowmeowakutagawa,

@peachymonkgeh, @definitely-asexual-volcano, @brainemptynothoughts, @aenishas, @kapitankarate,

@goldenglow149, @ionkknowhattonamethis, @futuristicprincesscrown, @average-scara-fan, @sleeplessskeleton,

@pix-stuff

A/n: i had to put the author's note at the very bottom because man, once this fic is complete yall will notice how much foreshadowing have already been sprinkled since chap 1 to 3 HAHAHAH-//shot

I had to cut a few more dialogue between Lumine and (Y/n) to the next chapter since it's exceeding the average word count I set up. anyways sneak peak

hehe okay now i'll adios again, I still have to code WhoDrankIt (HSR otome game) :'))

[blackenedsnow]

hi! i love your writing :)

i head canon that shadow volunteers for mental health organizations where they help people because he’s been there himself and wants to help people.

can you do a platonic shadow x reader one shot on that? reader is an extremely mentally ill person that shadow finds at the place he volunteers?

a quiet kind of hope

WARNING: Themes of severe depression, intrusive thoughts, implied self-isolation.

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog & Reader

NOTE: Hi!! Oh my gosh, thank you for this sweet request. Shadow volunteering for mental health organizations is such a perfect headcanon—I love the idea of him channeling his past struggles into helping others. Thank you for trusting me with something so tender. Please take care of yourself. Sending love your way <333

SUMMARY: At a community mental health center where Shadow volunteers, he finds himself drawn to you—a quiet, lost soul in need of someone who understands.

The fluorescent lights of the community center hummed faintly above as you sat tucked into a corner, knees drawn to your chest. People came and went, their footsteps echoing against the scuffed linoleum floor, but no one seemed to notice you—or if they did, they didn’t stop.

You weren’t sure why you’d come here. Maybe it was the promise of a warm drink, or the idea that someone might listen without judgment. Maybe it was just somewhere to go when the walls of your apartment felt too heavy to bear.

Shadow walked past with his usual quiet purpose. He didn’t hover or pry, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He was there enough to seem imposing, yet somehow still approachable—his crimson eyes catching the light like embers as he glanced around the room.

It wasn’t until his third lap near your corner that he finally paused.

“You’re not here for the coffee,” he said, his voice low but not unkind.

Startled, you looked up at him. Shadow didn’t sit; he crouched down instead, resting one arm on his knee to meet you at eye level.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

You shook your head. Words felt too heavy to form.

Shadow tilted his head, studying you. There was no pity in his gaze—only patience. He knew better than to push for answers you weren’t ready to give.

“I’m Shadow,” he said after a moment. “I volunteer here. If you need anything—or if you just want to sit quietly—that’s fine.”

His presence was steady, like an anchor. You nodded hesitantly, unsure if he would leave or stay. To your surprise, he moved to sit on the floor nearby, keeping enough distance to give you space but staying close enough to show he wasn’t going anywhere.

For a long while, neither of you spoke.

It became a pattern over the next few weeks. Shadow never forced you to talk, never asked for more than you were willing to share. Sometimes, you’d sit in silence while he worked on paperwork or handed out supplies to other visitors. Other times, he’d offer simple observations—a comment about the weather, or a quiet remark about how the coffee was even worse than usual today.

He made it easy to exist without expectations.

One day, when the room was emptier than usual, you finally found the courage to speak.

“Why do you do this?” you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Shadow glanced up from his clipboard. For a moment, he looked almost surprised.

“I’ve been where you are,” he said simply. “I know what it’s like to feel… stuck. Like there’s no way out. I had help when I needed it. This is my way of paying it forward.”

His honesty was disarming. You stared at your hands, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve.

“It doesn’t feel like it’ll get better,” you admitted.

“It doesn’t, at first,” Shadow said. “But it can. Slowly. The first step is the hardest—you took it when you walked in here.”

His words settled over you like a blanket—not an instant cure, but a quiet reassurance. For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter.

Over time, your conversations grew longer. Shadow never pushed you to share more than you were comfortable with, but he listened intently to everything you said. He remembered the little details—your favorite tea, the book you were slowly working through, the things that scared you most on bad days.

In his own way, he showed you that it was okay to take up space in the world.

You didn’t realize how much you’d come to rely on his presence until one evening, when the community center was unusually quiet. You’d been lost in thought, staring at the fading light outside, when Shadow appeared beside you with two steaming cups of tea.

“For you,” he said, setting one down carefully.

You blinked up at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Shadow’s expression softened, just enough for you to notice.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “You’re doing the hard part. I’m just here to remind you that you’re not alone.”

But one day…

The space you usually occupied in the corner of the center was empty.

Shadow’s sharp gaze swept across the room again, as if expecting you to appear any moment, but the hours ticked by, and the door remained closed.

It wasn’t unusual for people to miss a day here or there—life had a way of pulling people in unpredictable directions—but this wasn’t like you. You came to the center every time it was open, like clockwork, even on the days when you barely said a word.

Shadow couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling settling in his chest.

“You looking for someone?” one of the other volunteers asked as she packed up for the night.

Shadow nodded, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Yes. A regular.”

She smiled sympathetically. “Maybe they just needed a break. Sometimes it’s overwhelming for folks.”

“Maybe,” Shadow replied, but the doubt in his voice was evident.

He stayed a little longer than usual, tidying up stray cups and chairs as an excuse to linger. When it became clear you weren’t coming, he left, stepping out into the cold night air.

The thought of you walking home alone—head down, shoulders hunched—stuck in his mind.

The next day, you still didn’t show.

Shadow’s unease grew, twisting into something sharper. He tried to focus on his tasks, but his mind kept circling back to the hollow ache in his chest. He hated how familiar it felt.

When the center closed that evening, he made a decision. He wasn’t the type to sit around waiting for answers.

He remembered fragments of things you’d shared in passing—your neighborhood, the street you lived on. Shadow wasn’t one to pry, but he had a way of listening closely, piecing together the little details others might miss.

The streets were quiet as he walked, the night heavy with the kind of stillness that pressed against his ears. He found your building easily enough: a squat, aging structure with peeling paint and a flickering light by the entrance.

He climbed the stairs quickly, his footsteps echoing faintly.

When Shadow knocked, there was no answer.

He tried again, harder this time. “It’s me,” he called. “Shadow.”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, faintly, he heard movement inside.

“Go away,” came your voice, muffled and small.

Shadow’s ears twitched. You sounded exhausted—hollow in a way he hadn’t heard before.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said, his tone firm but not harsh. “But I need to know you’re okay.”

Another long pause. Eventually, the door creaked open just a crack.

You didn’t meet his eyes. Your face was tired, your shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world was pressing down on you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but the words were unconvincing even to yourself.

Shadow’s gaze softened. “You’re not.”

The door opened a little wider, and he could see the state of your apartment—the cluttered surfaces, the curtains drawn tight against the light. It was clear you hadn’t been taking care of yourself, and the sight of it made something tighten in his chest.

“I didn’t want to go today,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to do… anything.”

Shadow stepped inside carefully, closing the door behind him. He didn’t speak right away, giving you time to retreat to the edge of your bed. You sat with your head in your hands, your breaths uneven.

“I know how that feels,” he said quietly, moving to sit on the floor near you. “Sometimes the world feels too big. Like you can’t face it.”

Your fingers curled tighter into your hair. “It’s not just that,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s… everything. It’s all wrong, and I can’t fix it. I’m just—” You stopped, choking back a sob.

“You’re overwhelmed,” Shadow finished for you, his voice steady. “That doesn’t make you weak.”

Your breathing hitched.

Shadow leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You’ve survived this long. That means you’re stronger than you think.”

His words weren’t flowery or overly comforting—they were simple, grounded in truth.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice raw.

“I told you before. I’ve been there,” he said without hesitation. “I know how lonely it feels. I’m not going to let somebody drown in it.”

Shadow stayed with you that night. He didn’t push you to talk, but he also didn’t leave. He tidied the room quietly, opened the curtains to let in the moonlight, and made sure you drank a glass of water before you finally lay down.

As you drifted off, his words lingered in your mind: You’re not alone.

For the first time in days, it felt like you weren’t.

[darlingshane]

Dumb & Poetic

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Michael and you cannot communicate anymore without screaming at each other, but you've managed to keep that out of the workplace. Except for today. Your argument reaches a boiling point, and you have a big blowout in the kitchen in front of everyone. You end up apologizing to each other at the end of the day in the only way you know how to.

CW: +18, explicit, heavy angst, complicated relationships in the workplace, smut, vaginal sex, hate sex, making out, misogynistic comments.

Word Count: 2,2k

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist

The kitchen is on fire, and it's not because everyone is working their asses off. It's only because of the heated argument you're having with Michael.

If your hands weren’t busy with the sandwich you’re making, you would definitely close your fist and sock him in the face. You don’t condone violence, but right now, he's earning himself a good punch. Breaking his nose could be the only thing that would stop him from relentlessly nagging at you while you work. There's fire in your knuckles already, itching to hit something. Anger is really starting to fester in your stomach as he keeps yapping in your ear about nonsense. You give him one more minute before you either swing your fist or quit altogether. It'd be pretty funny to leave him in the lurch with the show full of people anxiously waiting for their food. You're understaffed, overworked, and lacking better management. He knows it, you know it, everyone and their mother in the neighborhood knows it. And yet, Michael refuses to listen to reason. The only thing he loves listening to is himself talking.

If you had other options, you’d certainly drop what you’re doing and walk right out the door. It'd take you to be as much of an asshole as he is to just leave him stranded today. Unfortunately, you can’t afford the luxury of quitting this job.

Turning heads on your way, you yell at each other, going back and forth between everyone working tiredly on the tight kitchen space. It's not unusual for you to fight, but today there's a time bomb ticking that holds something inside more complicated than any of you can understand.

You knew mixing business and pleasure was a mistake. Yet you jumped, eyes closed. It serves you right, you're hitting your head against the bottom of the pool for not following your gut. You knew Michael was trouble, also your boss, and that didn't stop you from getting into bed with him.

Now everything is a mess. You can't communicate without screaming at each other. All the back and forth between being together and apart has burned the last bridge between you and Michael, and there's nothing you can do to fix it when he's not willing to do his part in helping you.

“Orders are piling up. You either move out of the way, or join the party. So help me God, Michael.” You throw your knife with disdain into the sink before you do something you might regret.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Why did you change the menu without telling me?”

“I tried! I called you ten times, and you never picked up. And I didn’t change the menu. I just added a special for the weekend to try it out. See, it’s working.” You use your hand to point at the kitchen window crowded by heads on the other side. “You said you were leaving for two days, and you were gone for over a week. You think that’s normal, to go on a bender and leave us to fend for ourselves? You got orders, bills, vendors to deal with… You're being fucking irresponsible. Has anyone told you that? ”

“Give me a damn break. You have no idea what I have to deal with. You've been working here two days and act like they own the place. Who the fuck you think you are?”

“I've been here two years, Michael! Two fucking years carrying your sorry ass around. You’ll be lost without me, asshole!”

“I'd be lost without you? That's rich.” He scoffs loudly. “I taught you everything you know.”

Now it's your time to snort. “You showed me how to make your stupid sandwiches. It's not like you taught me how to cure cancer. You should be grateful I care enough to do something about it.”

“It wasn’t your place! You added chicken to my menu. Beef. We serve beef.” He points at the logo on the shirt he's wearing. “Can't you read, sweetheart? If we start serving chicken, people are gonna get confused.”

You roll your eyes intently.

“I told you, it's just for the weekend, Mr. Beef.” You have to hold yourself back from throwing the wrapped sandwich in your hands at him.

“Yo, cousin, since when we do chicken specials.” Richie walks in, protesting, from the front of the shop.

“Ask the smartass here. Thinks she knows better than all of us.”

“Well, I don't know about smart, but she certainly has a good ass.” Richie laughs.

“Oh, look at your other half agreeing with you. What a surprise! That's sexual harassment, by the way, Richard. And you're late, as usual.”

“Take it to the police, sweetheart.”

You feel like you're the one who's taking this place more seriously than both of them. Perhaps you shouldn't even try anymore. If Michael doesn't care enough to make this place better, why should you? You're sick of busting your ass for nothing. You should just take a step back and let him drive this hole further into the ground.

Done with arguing with someone who doesn't even listen, you turn around and go start on the next order.

“Hey, I'm not done talking to you.” He, of course, follows behind you.

“Well, I am. Stop wasting my fucking time.”

“Not until you apologize for going over my head and changing things around without consulting me.”

You almost burst into laughter.

“The only one who needs to issue an apology is you, Michael. Not me. I've done nothing but bringing life into this fucking dark hole you've created. You're just too obtuse to see that.”

“You've got some fucking nerve. And who do you think is paying for all the chicken you ordered? Did you get a new vendor?”

“I know a guy. He got me a discount on the first order.”

“Really? Vendors I know don't usually do that. Did you have to suck his dick or something? Cause that's the only—”

He can't finish his sentence because before you know it, the back of your hand is swiftly flying across his face. All that vitriol that was boiling inside, begging to get out, ends plastered on his cheek that quickly turns red. Your knuckles hurt from hitting his jaw, but it was worth it.

Suddenly, you notice almost everyone in the kitchen is looking at the two of you, caught in the middle of the space in a standoff.

It takes him a second to tell everyone to go back to work. You can see him fuming, but he doesn't respond or retaliate to your aggression.

As much as he deserved it, you almost regret it immediately. At least you got him to shut up for the time being. You take a ten-minute break and finish the rest of your shift without more altercations or Michael pestering you, thankfully. You're not sure if you want to come back tomorrow. You're done with his shit. It's not worth it anymore. You'll have figured out something else, cause this is never going to get better, and today was proof of that.

Almost everyone is gone when you decide to have a word with Michael after closing.

“Hey,” you say, standing by the open door to his office as he looks up from the pile of papers on his desk. “I'm going to take a couple of days off from my vacation days.”

“Yeah, I think that'd be best.” He agrees.

“Are you going to fire me?”

“It has crossed my mind.”

“Well, are you?”

“Sit down” He motions at the empty chair while he stands up to close the door behind you.

“I'm not sitting down. I'm tired of arguing with you and I wanna go home. Just tell me, Michael. No hard feelings. We'll go our separate ways, and you'll never have to deal with me again. ”

“I'm not firing you, okay? Please sit. I have something to say.”

Begrudgingly, you sigh and sit in the chair with your arms crossed while he leans on the edge of the desk.

“Look, today got out of hand, and I'm sorry for my part. I shouldn't have said that.”

“It was way out the line. But I shouldn't have slapped you, either.”

“Did it feel good to slap me?” his lips pull up at the corners.

“Maybe a little.”

You both smile for a moment, but you know there's more to say.

“I appreciate you helping here, but you can't make decisions like that when I'm gone. You should have told me first.”

“You never listen, Michael. This isn't something new. I've been telling you for months. This place needs to change, or you're going to lose it. I thought it meant something to you, but hell, what do I know? But don't worry, I'm butting out from now on. It's your business, do what you want with it.”

“I highly doubt you can do that, sweetheart. You and I both know you won’t be able to stay out of it. You just love being a pain in my ass too much.”

No, you're done for sure. If he can't at least meet you halfway, you're done trying. You can't fix this place cause you can't fix him. And that's the main issue here.

“Believe what you want, Michael.” You stand up to leave, but he's surely not even close to being done with you.

“Wait, there's something else I gotta say.”

“What?”

He steps closer in your direction, and you almost flinch when he brings his hand up to touch your face. Sighing, you let him cup your face while he leans in to kiss your mouth. It's so puzzling the effect he has on you. It’s dumb and poetic. He keeps fucking with your head like it’s some kind of fetish, and you keep letting him for no reason other than you can’t help but caring for him. You wish you didn’t, but you do love him more than you’d like to admit.

“Your lips are moving, but I don't hear any talking,” you mumble against his kiss.

“Hm, I wasn't done yet,” he licks his lips and then the tip of his tongue traces the shape of your mouth before sliding past your lips to do his talking. You don't give in so easily to his dirty antics. He's going to have to earn it.

It takes you a moment to respond to the bidding of his tongue that moves slowly against yours, begging you to kiss him back.

You should know better by now that this won't end well. This is a path you've walked many times before, and every time you end up regretting ever stepping onto it. You should duck, run, kick him in the balls, but you’re far too deep into the mind-numbing rhythm of his tongue that casts an impossible spell on you to do anything but argue with your tongue. As the heat rises, the hunger of your lips locking becomes unbearably hot to handle. You can barely breathe when you notice his hands roaming all over your body, claiming it as if it was his.

“God, I hate you so much,” you grunt into the kiss, pulling slightly from his mouth to see the vicious red that has plumbed his lips.

“I hate you more, baby,” he huffs, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he presses his crotch between your legs. “That’s how much I despise you.”

“Not as much as I do.” You undo the buttons of your jeans before grabbing his hand and shoving it into your panties to make him feel how soaked you are already.

Dark eyes lock with yours as he viciously massages your whole pussy. Before you know, you’re turning your back on him, and bending over his desk, pulling your pants and underwear down so he can fuck you from behind.

There’s no time wasted, as you brace your elbows to the table, he smoothly buries his cock in your opening, collecting all your juices. He’s hard, and you're soft in all the right places for him to thrust firmly without hurting you. His hands grip your ass while the pace of his hips quickly drive you out of your mind. You feel every stroke and thrust rippling through your body, kindling a fire within your core. You glance over your shoulder to see him darkly staring at you before smacking your ass with his palm.

“How do you like that now, huh?” He snarls, slapping your ass a second time harder, earning a moan out of you. “Yeah, I know that’s how you like it, sweetheart.”

You then hang your head and let him drive you closer to the edge. You can feel his cock twitching inside you as you send one of your hands between your legs to touch your clit.

“What? You got nothing to say now?” He leans forwards to grunt in your ear. “Good. You look prettier with your mouth shut.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” you moan as his hand follow the path of yours to helps you take care of your clit as you both nearly touch that last final line.

With the help of his fingers, and those final firm erratic thrusts, you quickly come undone, letting your walls flutter around him, bringing him down with you. He spills himself inside, holding on to you as you and him are momentarily taken by that jolt of bliss that ripples from his body to yours and vice versa.

— credits: divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[mouthpoisons]

done begging for people to please listen to why this is abysmal and I’m fucked off now. if you actually seriously wanna go ahead and blindly accept this extremely blatant ''how can i covertly spin my no homoism into something that sounds woke, oh i know, ill throw the cripples under the bus because nobody's going to gaf about the integrity of Their rep enough to push back'' move as your ''eh whatever a win is a win'' asexual representation then sure

enjoy your ace rep; a physically disabled man, initially introduced as confident and flirty, who goes on to spend half of his screentime developing an abusive relationship with his body and his base human need to be loved thanks to the devastating affects of a degenerative terminal illness, and the other half of his screentime a resurrected-against-his-will nullified zombie being manipulated and puppeted around by the Magical Hubris Object he invented in a desperate attempt to save his own life - an act the narrative loves disproportionately punishing him for. someone who is either feeling his body dying all around him and is acting understandably but tragically ''uninterested'' and closed off (his “asexual vibe/coding'' i fucking guess), or is quite literally the de-sexed disabled person trope.

as a physically disabled gay asexual who knows i deserve better on all possible accounts i think you are fucking stupid at best, and a willfully ignorant enemy at worst. the consequences of cl's anti-jayvik rollout are very seriously threatening to take viktor from being a flawed but overall really good and refreshingly heartfelt narrative about a gay disabled man who Despite It All allows himself and his body to be loved by the man hes been yearning for, into like actual i-cant-keep-making-excuses-for-this-writing straight up stereotypical, toeing the line of eugenicist horseshit

A tacked on poorly/not at all researched label that the writer in question only raised as his “intent” to try and shut down the idea that viktor ever finds love, as part of an ongoing homophobic crashout, is recontextualising his nuance and effectiveness as a disabled character, and eventhough a lot of you agree that he would also be bad asexual rep you’re way too willing to just shrug and move on instead of giving ANY consideration to how all this is carelessly damaging this character in other contexts

his declining health and impending death, and the knock-on effect of developing a toxic relationship with his body and the concept of emotion and weakness, his ability/willingness to be loved, along with his desperate quest to cure himself causing him to isolate and overwork (“marry to his work”), these are the things you’re willing to allow that man to gaslight you into accepting as ~asexual coding~. Fucking congrats. I hope the collateral was worth it

[lucygraysboy]

“you don’t have to apologize for askin’ questions or havin’ little trust in me, i understand it all. i don’t mind answerin’ your questions and i know that trust comes with time, it’s fine. we’re alright,” the blue-eyed man assures, smiling softly despite the ache in his jaw. god, she got him real good. that rusty, metallic taste of blood still lingers on his tongue. “yeah, guess so. but my brother? how’d you convince him to live that life with you?” there are pieces of the story missing and billy’s just trying to fill in the gaps, put the timeline together. “sorry, i just can’t picture him livin’ anywhere but at the capitol.” if he’s anything like their father, and from what she’s told him, that’s exactly who he aspires to be, he must have hated it in twelve. “he did,” billy insists, his gaze unwavering, piercing hues studying her expression. “why? i mean… you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, lucy gray. you can’t just abandon all hope and starve or freeze to death out here.” why does he care what happens to her? she’s not his responsibility, not his child or his wife, not even his friend, and yet her words have his heart sinking. she can’t waste her life away out here. she deserves much better. 

“hm? what’s that? oh.” she’s singing a song, he realizes and falls silent. hypnotized by the melody alone, listening to lucy gray’s sweet voice, billy almost forgets about the task at hand. the lyrics are heart-rending, filled with emotion. she sounds like someone who’s at peace with whatever future holds for her, willing to just give up on everything and die, or so it seems to billy. pale blue eyes filling with tears, but he’s quick to blink them away, even if his chest continues to constrict and tighten, making it difficult to breathe. he won’t let her do that. he won’t let her sit here and wait for her time to come. “beautiful song,” he whispers, lowering his gaze, afraid if he keeps on looking at her, he will break down and cry. “and i’m sorry to hear that.” are all her friends gone? is she really all alone in the world?  

the desolate scream that escapes her has the whole cabin shaking, windows rattling, and billy finds himself muttering apologies under his breath. “you’re doin’ so good, we’re almost done, lucy gray, almost done” he promises, wishing he could just wrap his arms around her and comfort her. instead, he briefly rests his other hand on her good knee, caressing it, saying i know we’re not friends but i’m here for you. though, maybe, hopefully this is cathartic in some way, maybe she needs to let it all go, wail and scream… it’s plain to see the physical pain is nowhere near the worst thing that’s happened to her, and he just feels for her. “you’re so strong. one of the strongest people i’ve met.” he works quickly but thoroughly, cleaning the wound, lathering it in iodine and using a few clean cloths to create a makeshift bandage, wrapping the fabric around her leg and tying it so that it stays in place. “there you go, lucy gray. all done. we’ll change it in the morning, see how it’s doing.” if it’s getting worse. he gathers the dirty rags, as well as the bowl with now cold water and sets them aside, near the door. he’ll wash them clean in the morning, hang them to dry if the weather clears. he wants to help her, but doesn’t know how, and so he just stands beside her, calloused fingers carefully stroking her hair, wary as though he was dealing with a wild animal. “just let it go… things will get better, lucy gray. they always do.”

“thanks…” that would come out more enthusiastically if he wasn’t coriolanus. but the fact he was, just means— it’s all contrived. “sorry, i guess i’m just not used to it.” not from him. when does he notice that things like her childhood toys mean a lot to her? “it’s all i’ve known to do so i reckon i have no choice but to say i like it.” the twang on her voice drawls, a wry laugh sounding from her. “he did. you did.” more than turned… revealed he was a killer the entire time and was just waiting the right moment to put a bullet in her chest. “stayin’ right here, i guess. since i can’t return to twelve, not now. and really darlin’… i don’t really have much care what happens anymore.” thinks she might just go curl up in that bed, close her eyes and sing herself to a peaceful death. you’re headed for heaven, the sweet old here after. and i’ve got one foot in the door, but before i can fly up, i’ve got loose ends to tie up. right here in the old therebefore. humming her song now. “when i’ve burned out both ends. when i’ve cried all my tears,” she quietly sing-talks her way through to try and distract herself from the leg pain, “when i’ve conquered my fears. right here, in the old therebefore. when nothin’ is left anymore.” the last part striking a nerve, exactly describing why she’s even singing her saddest song. she’s burned out both ends, cried all her tears, conquered her fears and nothing is now truly left…anymore. “his story’s ended. gone to heaven, if the lord allowed it.” hopefully he repented somehow, but she doubts he even saw his life ending so abruptly.

it’s fine, she thinks, she doesn’t need his shoulders for support. until she does. it jolts through her at once, pain shooting up her thigh, toes digging into the wood and her socks, a wince and her hand tightening against his shirt, other hand clutching the bottom of her seat. biting her bottom lip, trying to be usually tough, but the feeling and the look of her flesh makes her nauseous so quickly— stomach muscles caving in at how terribly pain shoots through her again. bottom lip that’s been wobbling, teeth let go when a cry rips through her throat. shifting in her seat to bury her face in the back of the chair, tears exploding out of her eyes as face is hidden, matted curls curtaining around her jaw. she’s fought the pain so long, it just keeps barreling out in heavy exasperated cries. leg pain, mental and emotional pain, exhaustion pain. it’s all collectively releasing at once. upset she’s been beaten down so much, gotten up every single time, but at her wits end— she’s gave her all and she’s completely shutting down this time. lucy gray can’t be that girl who gets up anymore, it’s why her weeping is so relentless and loud. the leg pain just added to the fuel now.

[alyjojo]

PAC - A Dream is a Wish ✨

Pile 1: Orange 🧡

MERCURY - ARIES - 11TH HOUSE

- Communicate your willpower for humanity’s sake.

- Analyze what you think you know about your hopes and wishes.

- Let your mind tell you how to do it your own way, and do it for the future.

You’re dealing with someone at work that you think is a moron, or a snake, and feel that you could probably do a much better job. You have suggestions and ways that your career could improve, if only someone would listen to you. Or rather, if you had the courage to speak up - that’s the strongest story I’m getting. Shyness 🙈 combined with a lack of power, because what you really want is power. Aries energy 💪 You want to be King of Pentacles, The Emperor, the one running this shit - no one else can do it as good as you can. Ideally.

Withdrawn, The Moon & Fear show major insecurities keeping you from speaking your mind and leading like you want to. You’re afraid of confrontation, or making people upset with you. You could lack confidence or feel like others don’t believe in you…it’s more that you’re solitary and don’t include yourself. Strength at the bottom shows this as a difficult personal challenge for you, you could have a squared/conflicted Mercury that makes it difficult for you to just say the thing you want to say. I’m seeing fire that craves earth💰- money, responsibility, earned success; and I’m seeing earth that craves fire 🔥- confidence, self-appointed leadership, influence, recognition. Or both, you could have those in your chart.

Regardless of who is in charge, currently you’re off to the side and want to do things YOUR way. Your way is better than the group, and you desire to pioneer major change in the group collective of whatever it is you’re doing. Work, a friend group, politics, the whole world, social media or online groups - 11th House. But you want recognition and success, not opposition, and there could be a Snake 🐍 around you that inspires this in the first place…so you worry about them. How can you do what you want peacefully? And get support?

You want to be the boss, but not an asshole. Everything you’re feeling inside shows the level of strength and character you possess, and you seem to be coming from the right place - in that you’re thinking of the whole group when you’re thinking of these “improvements,” but Spirit is showing you as not knowing the whole story - and going off of that, not truth. Like you’re a worker in the break room gossiping with the others, none of which are actually making decisions - and don’t know budgets, approval, who said what in meetings and what’s been decided, etc. That’s the issue, you want a seat at that table, the bigger one that has the power to make real decisions.

You are an intellectual/practical rebel, with good reason, and inside you have more than enough confidence to pull off anything you want…it’s just gathering the confidence to do it out loud. If you want the reading to tell you whether you’ll fail or not, I don’t see failure, just fear. Strength shows it won’t be easy; Temperance shows you’ll have to be patient and it will take time - but that’s not failure 🧡 In the Spirit of Aries energy…just do it ☑️ Speak up 📢

————

Pile 2: Purple 💜

MARS - CANCER - 5TH HOUSE

- The drive for intuition to protect the power of love.

- The confronting of attitudes from the past about investment gambles and other games.

- Action resulting from the history of your creations.

More than anything, this pile wants children, and the kind of nurturing, emotionally stable and mature soulmate that’s ready & willing to be that partner for them. Some of you already have kids and are starting over completely, some don’t and feel like the clock is ticking. All of you probably have a sad story: divorce, a bad break-up, breadcrumbing that went nowhere, or just not meeting someone on your level yet.

On the other side of the coin, this is the pile for the players that like messing around with several different people - but you say you want a soulmate, tsk tsk. Either the soulmate is the one procrastinating - and it’s driving you crazy, or you’re the reason one hasn’t come in. Like Spirit is gonna hand you the right one with all the games and bs, no. Once that is done, then. Or you’ve already met them and have procrastinated going deeper…it’s time. Cut off the extra baggage - if that’s you you’ll know it. If it’s not, you could be dating someone like this, or have, and you’re tired of non-committal people that don’t take love seriously. You want the whole thing, where is your person?

The reading is showing the need to heal from whatever the last person did or didn’t do that hurt you, made you feel like you’re not enough or don’t deserve what you want - you do 💯 I’m also seeing random things. Birds, bees, obviously. Sex. 5th House. If you are beyond childbearing age/possibility and crave children, I’m seeing animals, like…garden animals. Bees. Birds. Literally. A beekeeper? If you feel like you *can’t* be a parent, or something like that, someone took your chances or it just didn’t happen - Spirit is saying change the way you see parenting. Male/female. Maybe you’re meant to parent the baby birds that come back every year, or you start gardening to help save the bees.

Something like that. The Empress is pregnant sure, and someone may be, but she’s an earth mother too 🌸 Spirit will send you all of the signs or animals you would need to see it - for whoever that’s for. I’m hearing “they already have.” 🩷 Everyone else, it’s necessary to commit to each attempt before moving on to the next…you may have missed a gem or underestimated someone/something, said goodbye too soon. If so it’s newer or never really got off the ground, I’m seeing a too-fast judgment, that could be part of it. No one is going to walk in the door like HELLO SOULMATE I’M HERE TO MAKE BABIES. If they did, would you run or…? Probably should 🙃

Pile 3: Red ❤️

URANUS - LIBRA - 3RD HOUSE

- Stir up the situation by using relationships, by making the right connections.

- Be open to new ideas about the beauty of the idea in question.

- Invent a way to do it with your partner/s and get your ideas going.

I’m getting a few different stories for this one, none of them are alike whatsoever 😆

1: You’re in love with a friend, a neighbor, someone you’ve known all your life, a friend of a friend or the friend of a person you know even and there’s some weirdness with asking them out. Like the guy across the street your sister liked two years ago but doesn’t anymore and you do but you don’t want to make her mad. That was a mouthful. You could chatter away very quickly, like a chipmunk 🐿️ People could have a hard time keeping up with you. The answer is - as long as it’s healthy. There’s some ick energy here in someone where healthy isn’t what they’re going for - and I’m being told to ignore that & them. That person needs to go within and question their motives. No, you shouldn’t fk your therapist 🙃 But do you idc, as long as it’s healthy 😆 I’m also seeing a poly kind of relationship, again if it’s healthy & consensual, do whatever you want. Nothing here is saying “no.”

2: SEX. You want it to hit you like a lightning bolt, someone extremely attentive that fascinates you with how they speak, the way they move, how they look, everything. Obsessed 🤩 You could know them or just want to know them, maybe they don’t even exist and you’re dreaming them up. Spirit is saying you have to talk to them first. There’s no “no” here. Go Deeper, show interest, ask. You never know. Could be a neighbor specifically, someone you know through a friend or a sibling. Why not? If it’s legal 💯

3: You want to make real changes in some 3rd House area of your life. Justice changes, maybe legal ones, could be regarding your own home or neighborhood. The local school. Crime in your neighborhood. Some of you could be involved in law or the desire is to be taken seriously, as an intellectual equal that’s respected and heard - with action being taken. You speak and make it happen, that’s what you want, and again as with the other piles, I’m just seeing that you haven’t spoken up. Everything in this pile has the same answer, if you want it go get it - at least try. People came for a yes/no answer and there isn’t a no, YES. Keep it legal, balanced & healthy and that’s all that matters - most of you can be the ones to make the waves and make it happen, though you’re probably wanting it to happen TO you. That’s the only difference I see, it’s on you.

4: You’re creepy. I see you. Just one. Legal & consensual and do what you want, like the others.

Pile 4: Blue 💙

MOON - SAGITTARIUS - 2ND HOUSE

- The nurturing of insights to understand your beliefs.

- Feelings caused by the wisdom of what you value.

- Reactions resulting from the understanding of your resources.

This pile has an outcome many people can’t attain, that’s why it’s your deepest dream. It’s probably the most popular pile that I’m feeling so far. This is the pile of things you wish would’ve happened, things you wish you would’ve done if only you’d known xyz - past tense - and you know that now because of life experience - Sagittarius. Present tense.

You wish you’d never have moved homes, states, or countries. Or you wish you knew what it had been like if you hadn’t. Would you still have the dog and the window seat in your bedroom? Would this terrible thing never have happened if you did? Would you still be married? Would they have chosen differently? Or the opposite, you wish you left sooner. Why didn’t you take that year off of school and just go explore Japan? Now you never will (in your mind), because you’ll never have the same opportunity. Maybe you could’ve prevented some shocking experience…this is a pile that needs nurturing the most, and healing of the heart.

Wanting your ex back is the strongest energy here. What would it have been like if I had this - with them? Or they have what they have - but with me? Or family in general, especially a mother figure. Or kids. You crave stability, your tribe, your blood - but it’s shown in a way of being the past. Some of you may have had really hard childhoods and you dream of the day when everything calms down and you can do things differently. When YOU have a house you won’t do whatever someone else did. When YOU have a daughter, you’ll treat her like a princess. There’s a lot of pain here from many different directions. The numbers go from 7, 8, to 10. Putting in the work, having done your part (or someone else did) and then there’s a sudden ending - some quite tragic, others a missed opportunity or something came up, or it wasn’t you at all but someone else.

Without pain and regret, career choices could be involved too, anything that would’ve made more money than you’re making now. Why didn’t you study law instead of psychology? Why didn’t you choose this house instead of that one? Why didn’t you invest in Amazon when you had the chance? It’s the pile of regrets and inner conflict. That’s not to say you can’t get some of these things (back) if you really wanted to. Most of you have to move forward and recreate your dreams in a new way. And this time, you’ll stay. Or go. Or do it right. Or not. Whatever you want that you didn’t do before.

Some want a family member back that’s passed on, especially a mom or grandmother. Some wish they had one in the first place, or a better one. There’s only one piece of advice here…make new memories. It’s all you can do. Spirit sees you, I see you, and I’m crying in this one, idk who can’t relate to this 🙏 Sending you guys a lot of love for all of your future memories - let these feelings inspire future decisions and I hope that someday your wounds are healed by something that makes it all feel…like there was a deeper purpose for you, somewhere else you were meant to go. A reason, right? That’s all we really want. Make it make sense, and I hope it does someday 💙 There’s no reason you can’t try to recreate what you once had - it’s the closest thing.

Pile 5: Green 💚

SATURN - LIBRA - 2ND HOUSE

- Be realistic about relationships, patiently.

- Be concerned about the beauty of what you want.

- You must wait before you can do it with your partner/s and get what you need.

This pile has been wounded in the area of finances and self worth, many due to some shitty partner that didn’t see it properly. But you blame yourself. If you were prettier, more fit, had more money, a bigger house, more friends, pick a thing - then you would be loved. You just want real love (any kind) and to be seen for what you have to offer another.

This is the pile for soft hearts 🥰 that aren’t seen or appreciated, fuck that. Literally everyone on this blog is looking for YOU. Everyone that watches tarot looking for answers and their person - it’s you they’re looking for, all of you. Someone kind, genuine, loving, nurturing, and wants to share that with another person and do life together.

Because this is Libra energy, I have an activity for pile 5’s only. Comment your pile, and add someone else that comments this pile…see how it goes. A new friend? New love maybe? I’m not even that kind of person fr - this one inspires me to instigate and matchmake, like Libra. It’s a beautiful gift to have, and one you’d love to share. Saturn is in its’ favorite energy in Libra, with fairness, Justice, balance, and all things moving along in perfect time & harmony. Getting along is always the goal for a Saturn Libra, no chaos or confrontations plz. And you probably tend to be a nurturer above all else - you want to feel appreciated for emotional gifts and values - not monetary.

Some of you are parents, single parents even. There’s a heavy under-appreciated feminine energy as well, as the majority. All of the women that give and give and never receive, because your mental health & sacrifices don’t come in the form of a paycheck. Or they do, but it’s smaller than you’d like or even need. If you’re male, then feminine energy coming from a male, you may work at home or feel “emasculated” because of…something. You’re in a more feminine field perhaps, like a dental assistant is the example I’m getting - and you’re taken advantage of by women specifically. Not 👏 appreciated 👏 This could definitely be male energy in a female situation, maybe you’ve dealt with a difficult woman and the world doesn’t sympathize with men the same as they do women. Gender equality in all forms are showing up in this pile - as it’s tied to self worth, your confidence, and receiving what you deserve, money, attention, love, etc. Based on “how you look?”

Libra energy shows balance to all things that are unfair, and your life (or job) could be unfair to you - they’re not paying you enough or treating you with the appreciation you deserve. Both, all of it. People too, family. Shitty lovers. Someone has a painful ex that pokes at their self worth or how much they make (or don’t, right, probably that.) Diet, nutrition, exercise, and all forms of beauty are involved here too. Wanting to change how you look, because it’s “not good enough” but it IS. If you picked this pile, the energy is lovely, YOU are lovely. There’s another pile where that’s not exclusively true lol, but in this one it’s true. You’re beautiful and perfect as is 💯

Obstacles are shown as your main issue (obviously..), and it’s due to heartbreak. You only feel lack because some douchebag made you feel lack in the first place. I’m seeing Adam & Eve, and the question of “who told you you’re naked?” That’s the message here, who told you you’re not good enough and what gave them the qualifications to do so? A degree in business? Do you have any idea how many managers have degrees in business and they’re a bunch of squawking birds that can’t even math? C’mon now. A scientist excels at science but maybe isn’t the most emotionally intelligent, because you can’t book-learn love. Pain. Trauma. Your paycheck can’t possibly reflect the amount of goodness inside of you - because here you’re a Queen of Cups. Soft, loving, nurturing, you care deeply for others. Could be a teacher, a parent, a nurse, raising these people 🍼

Rejection & Nourish with Queen of Cups wants you to take a smelly good bath, with wine and music, and learn to love yourself for all of the amazing qualities you do have that no one else does. You think everyone can be a Queen of Cups? They can, for a day. Not as a significator that’s describing who you are. That’s who you are every single day. All of you need some staycation time, giving back to yourself. Rub your feet, lotion your body, do hair treatments and skin treatments, put some love into you - and others will respond to that & you positively. You could experiment with hairstyles or beauty treatments. With Libra, to look good is to feel good, they’re intermingled. Clean house, smelling good, love this shirt, it builds all of the confidence necessary to take on the world when they’re feeling cute 😌 might delete later idk. Complimenting others as well, you could crave positive attention & recognition.

The tarot cards show you already know what to do and just need confirmation that it’s attainable or real. It is. Actualization & Patience show you getting what you want eventually. More money, more respect, more genuine love and appreciation, more attraction, all of it. But it first comes with loving yourself, teaching others to love you by setting the example. And don’t let others have the power to take that away. So they don’t like lavender. You do. I guess they better go sit over there then. For that example it’s like you can smile sweetly & confidently, and if others don’t like it THEY can move. Not you. Apply that to everything ❤️ First process your wounds emotionally, feel your feelings & why you feel this way…then do something fun about it. Play with your looks. Experiment. Work out. Eat kale. Drink wine. And finding others like you would work wonders for your self esteem…Saturn Libra needs friends. People. Even one person that supports you is worth all the weight in gold…maybe they like lavender and wine too 🍷

As for money, if that’s the whole issue, it’s being shown as “it’s coming be patient.” You’re right where you’re supposed to be. Ace of Swords can be like a sudden wake-up call or realization, if you’re wanting to make money from something else that’s not your job, like a creative venture, that’s being supported too. You already know what to do, your intuition has told you. All of you. This is confirmation. Some of you can and will transmute your pain or old wounds into money somehow - which is amazing. You didn’t have a real home as a kid, and now you sell homes for a living. Or you’ve always been made fun of for art, now you’re working for a tv station creating cartoons every day. It’s coming & you already know. Or you’ve been told forever and you’ve just ignored Spirit but they’re saying they’ve already told you, maybe in a dream, and have sent messages to you with The High Priestess rev. You may have ignored them or brushed them off. Ace of Swords could be whatever you’re thinking of when I say that, whatever you’ve been thinking of the whole reading, it’s like a light bulb💡and you can see it clearly now.

Pile 6: Black 🖤

JUPITER - CAPRICORN - 5TH HOUSE

- Learn or teach your goals with the trust of a child.

- Be positive about the day-to-day reality of fun, romance, and art.

- Grow and expand, use the most businesslike way and - do it dramatically.

I thought 4 was the most popular, and it’s now the other one, but I stand corrected. That’s the whole point for some of you - what’s coming is better than it was or what it currently is. Yes, you’ve been heard. Yes, you’ll win. Yes, you’ll get everything you’re working so hard for. No, it’s not all for nothing. No, you shouldn’t give up on what you’re doing right now, what you’ve been working towards - because you wouldn’t be on that path if you weren’t supposed to be. And you’d have picked something else, like 4. If you picked 4 first, this is the response to whatever you felt or were thinking of from that. Yes 🙌 You’re on the right track.

Heavy heavy Capricorn & earth energy here, in literal signs, plus the most beautiful Queen of Pentacles card I’ve ever seen, and Karma at the bottom of the oracles. This is The Literary Tarot and here she is a beautiful & successful goddess in a fancy gown with feathers, on some kind of throne, very regal - you’ve got this. Doesn’t have to be your sign, it’s your dream, or who you are whether you’ve accomplished this dream or not. But will you? Yessss.

Wedding Rings shows love or marriage, kids with 5th House, that whole dream. Yes! Coffee Cup shows good times with friends, feeling joyful, meeting good people. Yes! Capricorn with 5th shows wanting to create a job or financial opportunity from something you love, or loving what you do, my entrepreneurs here. Yes! Especially working with children, if that’s something you do it’s like Spirit is giving you a big hug, someone here works with kids in rough situations or that’s their goal - big yes! 👏

Queen of Pentacles, 2 Wands, 4 Swords. You’ve gone so far already, you’re now at another crossroads - many of you. Should you take the path of the heart - 5th House. Whatever that is for you specifically. Yes 👏 Is all your hard work paying off? Yes! Will your efforts turn into financial blessings? Yes! Capricorn is often a “no” kind of sign and this whole reading is “yes”. Do you believe it? You should, but you’re also in charge of making it happen. The Sun at the bottom shows whatever you clicked on this hoping to see, wondering if you’ve been heard or if it’s even known by Spirit what you want - yes! The only thing you shouldn’t do is quit, or give up.

The advice is to Push for more Insight before you Evolve. Learn about the things you want to do, feel more confident and prepared, do it with intention & knowledge, and watch it grow into something you love - 5th House. Some of you are getting back in touch with your inner child and will expand beyond your current circumstances, perspectives, and life generally - all positive things. The Sun is the happiest card in the whole deck; recognition, achievement, joy & happiness, light shining through any darkness/confusion/fear that existed before - all for the better ☀️ This whole pile is simply for Spirit to confirm what you already know - and it be deeply personalized despite being so general. Yes 👏 Transformation at the bottom, big changes, and every card is here positive & wholesome. If it hasn’t happened yet, it will eventually, just enjoy the ride.

[ficsandgiggles]

Closing the Distance (Wanda x Reader)

A/N: Hey everyone, sorry there’s been a gap between fics, life has slammed me with a few things so my motivation for write has been non existent.

I know a few people on here are going through things, so this fic goes out to you guys. You’ll get through this, I believe in you ❤️

Word count: 1265

Warnings: None

You noticed Wanda watching TV in the living room of your shared house, the two of you had decided to get a place together since the two of you were close and wanted to have a place where there were fewer people around, thus less pressure to be as social.

These last two weeks had been a challenge, you felt like life had slammed you with problem after problem and you were at a point where you didn’t know how much more you could take.

You knew you couldn’t hide your feelings from Wanda, both due to her powers and the fact that she could read you like a book, and she probably knew something was wrong as you had kept your distance from her quite a bit these past few days.

One thing she didn’t know, however, was that there was a way of cheering you up which rarely failed. You were currently trying to pluck up the courage to ask her if she was willing to give you a little something which was guaranteed to make you smile… and laugh.

You weren’t sure why, but tickling had always been a thing that made you happy, the freedom of just letting go and feeling free to laugh, it was a sensation that you missed dearly.

The last time you got tickled was by Yelena, who needed a way to get you to let go of a bottle of hot sauce she wanted for her food, you had a feeling she would tickle you since you’d seen her tickle Kate whenever she’d pull pranks so you hoped she would do the same, you were ecstatic when it worked.

You weren’t sure if Wanda would be willing to tickle you, but you knew that you wouldn’t know if you didn’t ask, and you really needed something to cheer you up as your mood was so bad, so you decided to go for it.

You sat next to Wanda who was still watching TV, you immediately started playing with your fingers and bit your lip.

“Hey! Nice of you to join me, are you okay?” The witch asked immediately, her attention turned towards you. She had been increasingly worried about you and the way you had been distancing yourself, so she wanted to help in whatever way she could.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a lot of things going on, sorry I haven’t been around much.” You told her quietly, not yet meeting her gaze as you kept fidgeting.

“Is there anything I can do? I want to try and help however I can.” Wanda offered, noticing you suddenly appeared nervous as you knew it was time to ask her.

“There is, actually… but it’s okay if you don’t want to.” You started, murmuring quietly as you tried to figure out how to ask her. You looked up to see Wanda listening attentively.

“I want to help, what can I do?”

“Well uh… this may seem weird but… could you… please tickle me? I-I like the feeling of being free to laugh and I don’t hate the sensation and-“

You were interrupted by wiggling fingers on your knee, causing you to squeal in surprise and kick out. The witch then pulled you into a hug, wrapping her arms around you and scribbling her fingers into your sides.

“Aw! Y/N of course I can! This is adorable!” Wanda teased, pulling you closer and smiling fondly as you giggled hysterically. You wiggled around in her arms but showed no signs of trying to escape her hold.

What you didn’t expect, however, is the feeling of flutters under your arms on your neck, realising that she was now adding her magic to the playful torture.

“You really are a ticklish one, Y/N! Yes you are! So cute!” Wanda teased in your ear, now shaking her fingers into your ribs which made you squeal with adorable laughter. The witch looked at you with a soft smile, finding this ordeal absolutely wholesome.

You flushed red at her teasing as you wiggled around in her arms, so much so that you were almost lying across her lap, which allowed her to pin your arms over your head and move you so you were on your back across her lap, she looked down you with a smirk.

“What happened here, hm?” She asked, suddenly using her magic to pin your arms over your head, pausing for a moment. “Is this okay?”

You nodded in response, biting back your smile as Wanda teasingly wiggled her fingers over you.

“Good, because I’m going to make sure you’re all cheered up!” She told you with a grin before her fingers danced all over your tummy, making you squeal with giggles once again whilst thrashing around in her lap.

“EHEHEHEHE WAHAHAHANDA!” You squeaked out, arching your back as you felt her magic flutter along the soles of your feet. Your legs flailed about helplessly but you weren’t hating it at all.

“You’re so ticklish, Y/N! It’s so nice to hear your cute little giggles, I’ve missed them so much.” Wanda told you, now briefly lifting your top up to blow a raspberry onto your tummy, causing you to screech with laughter and attempt to twist to the side.

“NOHOHOHO SHUHUHUSH!” You laughed out, feeling her fingers wiggle under your arms at the same time.

“Okay, I’ll stop talking and raspberry you instead.” The witch shrugged and blew another one, causing you to scream with laughter once again.

Wanda paused her magic and her raspberries to give you a quick break, she looked at you with a fond smile as you took in deep breaths, with the occasional few giggles coming out as her fingers were fluttering u see your arms still.

“Having fun?” Wanda checked in, chuckling as you immediately nodded.

“Good, so am I, I’ve missed that smile. I’ll carry on for a bit longer as I don’t want you to pass out.” She told you, and with that, she blew raspberries along your tummy and sides as her fingers moved to your ribs, shaking in mercilessly as her magic fluttered around your toes.

You screamed with laughter, trying everything you could in your weakened down power to escape her, but you weren’t complaining too much despite being exhausted from laughing so hard.

“OKAHAHAHAY PLEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOP!” You yelled out, taking in deep breaths the second she released you from both her fingers and her magic. You shoved your shirt down and sat up, a permanent grin on your face.

“You ok?” Wanda asked gently as she rubbed your back to help calm you down. You nodded in response, smiling shyly.

“Yeah, thank you so much, it really helped.” You told her gratefully, resting your head on her shoulder as she wrapped you in a side hug.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll happily do it again if you want me to.” Wanda offered, nudging you with a fond giggle as you couldn’t help but blush.

“Thank you… but for now, can we watch a movie?” You asked, still knowing that distractions are the best way to stop your thoughts from spiralling.

The witch smiled and grabbed the remote, handing it to you.

“Sure, just no cheesy rom-coms tonight. You’ve made me watch too many that I couldn’t with a break.” Wanda grinned, watching as you chose an action movie for a change.

The two of you got settled for a movie night, and for the first time in a while, you felt a little more at ease, especially now you knew that you could rely on Wanda for some cheer-up tickles.

[b1acksh33p999]

December Horoscopes🎄✨:

🔥Aries: This month is going to bring forth massive transformation for Aries! With the North Node still transiting in conjunction with your Sun sign, and starting the month off in the family oriented 4°; this will bring up a lot of changes in terms of family values, and redefine what family means to you. As the North node continues to retrograde throughout the month, Aries will go through a total of 4 phases; redefining family values, communicating these changes, implementing changes that align with new values, and finally all of these changes being undeniably on the surface. My advice to you this month is to listen to your heart, and follow your intuition. This combination will help ensure you end up exactly where you feel most guided to be, and ensure you become the person you’re supposed to be to help you navigate the hard waters found within the new year. It’s time to take on the challenge!

⛰️Taurus: This month is going to start off with massive epiphanies! With Uranus still in conjunction with your Sun sign and starting off in the intuitive 24°, this will bring forth a knowing so accurate that it will rival any intuition you’ve had prior. Some themes to keep an eye out for are changes in children’s behaviors, acts of rebellion that a lesser evolved version of you can relate to, opportunities to increase monetary income by enhancing your knowledge in a certain area, and mental health changes in the people closest to you. My advice to you this month is to be of service to others, and use this enhancement in knowledge and knack for intuition to help those who may not see what is clearly in front of them. Once you find yourself helping those around you, then you will find these same people being of service to you by mid-late 2025. What goes around, comes around!

🌬️Gemini: This month your luck is going to change! With a huge month for emotional shifts, paired with Jupiter’s expansive energy - this month is going to change everything for Gemini, especially when it comes to what they are expected to feel and attain moving forward. This final month is going to set up Gemini for a very different year in 2025, with the most change being in the area of love and relationships. My advice to you this month is to start finding more love within yourself and realigning your priorities with what you’re ready to attain instead of focusing your energy on what has been lost over the years prior. With Pluto’s shift into Aquarius, you’re entering an era unlike anything you’ve ever seen before! Any love lost, and any hearts broken in the past will prove to be stepping stones to get you to where you will be by the end of 2025. This month is simply beginning that cycle, so get ready to experience a love like you’ve never experienced before!

🌊Cancer: This month is going to push you to finally set the boundaries you’ve needed to get the life you’ve always wanted! With many planetary oppositions aspecting your Sun sign this month, you may feel like the world around you is changing so quickly and drastically; leaving you feeling left behind. This energetic change is happening now to prepare you for what’s yet to come in 2025, which is a complete shift in priorities, and massive changes in daily life! My advice to you this month is to use the new moon in Capricorn on the 31st to lay down the law on what you are willing to sacrifice for and what’s not a priority for you. Cancer’s have been in a self sacrificial period for far too long, and the plutonic shift into Aquarius is going to help jumpstart one of the luckiest periods for you. Let others cater to you for once - because once we hit the new year, the changes in 2025 will make your current lifestyle completely unsustainable. Set the boundaries now and keep to your word!

🔥Leo: This month is going to come with massive physical changes, and some possible financial mishaps! With Pluto’s opposition to your Sun sign, and Mars starting her retrograde in conjunction with your sun sign; tempers will be running high, and you may have a few financial oversights that come back to bite you. Don’t fixate on this too much however, since 2025 has so many changes in store for Leo that will help put you ahead in these areas in terms of long-term sustainability. My advice to you this month is to try and be understanding to others emotional upsets, instead of putting yourself in the focus. This self-sacrificial energy will not be something Leo can maintain, however it will help Leos understand any mishaps happening around them. Come the new year, 2025 will bring many changes and upgrades in areas of finances, and friendships. So, don’t worry about any drama brought on this month. It’s only temporary!

⛰️Virgo: This month is going to be huge in terms of family changes for Virgo! With both Saturn and Neptune in opposition to your Sun sign, the changes happening this month are both karmic and something you will have been able to see coming. Nothing will come by surprise! My advice to you this month is to keep to yourself if you don’t feel that your energy or influence is being appreciated. The best plan of action for Virgo this month is to put all of their energy back into themselves and create the life they always wanted for themselves. Now is not the time to sacrifice yourself for others, or to put yourself out there for family who may not want you around. Take these lessons and find a way to better yourself and your personal situation so you can grow from the hardships you’ve experienced in 2024. In 2025, many changes will be coming for Virgo and can sometimes feel like it’s challenging an already difficult situation. This energy is not meant to end your luck, instead it’s meant to help you rediscover power within yourself you thought was long lost. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for!

🌬️Libra: This month is going to help rebalance lost harmony within your life! With the asteroid Vesta in conjunction with your sun sign - this is going to enhance your softer side, making you less likely to put up with drama or people who have already betrayed you in the past. By the end of the month you will have fully embraced this new balancing act of finding a middle ground between being cold and people pleasing. These changes will only enhance over the next 18 years of Pluto transiting in fellow air sign, Aquarius. My advice to you this month is to prioritize the people and things that matter the most to maintain your personal peace, and leave the rest in the past where it belongs. If it’s meant for you, it will come to you without conditions!

🌊Scorpio: This month is going to switch up what you thought you knew, which may have you feeling nostalgic about the past. Let me be clear from the beginning, this nostalgia is not due to missing the past lifestyle you had, instead it’s more of missing the person you were before losing hope in the bigger picture of a better world in the future. The best advice I can give you this month is to remind you that these fears are simply feelings, and not an undeniable fact. For Scorpio in 2025, huge changes in understanding personal power are inevitable. So, that means in a way the best is still yet to come! Whether it may feel that way right now or not. By the new moon in Capricorn on the 31st you will start to feel an increase in anxiety of what’s coming for the collective in the new year. My advice to you is to understand that it’s not your job to save everyone, only yourself. Make sure you have solid goals for the new year and vocalize them to those you trust before the year’s end. This will help you feel understood moving forward, and give you faith in what’s yet to come. Keep your head clear, and your eyes peeled as we move into the new year!

🔥Sagittarius: This month is going to open your eyes to what you’ve been overlooking in both your own behavior and the people you’ve been surrounding yourself with. With the month starting off with a new moon in Sagittarius, then ending on the 31st with a new moon in Capricorn; this month is going to be the eye opener you’ve needed all year! My best advice to you is to be true to yourself and try to stay as grounded to reality as you possibly can. This will help you coast through any possible drama that could arise around you this month. With the Mars retrograde starting this month in a trine to your sun sign, this will increase your need for freedom and laughter, away from any possible drama. My advice to you this month is to keep your eyes open to those who are seemingly bringing drama into your life, without reason. These people are meant to be left in 2024, not brought into the new year. In 2025, many changes will come, which will enhance your need for loving and trustworthy relationships full of understanding. Any self-centered people, fueled by drama, will only bring you trouble. Allow yourself to move into a new era of your life without the need for gossip or drama. You will thank yourself for cutting ties with those loose ends now, instead of waiting until they end up turning on you in 2025!

⛰️Capricorn: This month is going to open your eyes to a whole new lifestyle! With Pluto officially moving into Aquarius, and the end of the month falling into a new moon in Capricorn - the last two weeks of the month will be a great example of what changes may come for your lifestyle in 2025. My advice to you this month is to spend New Year’s Eve reevaluating your priorities, and cutting down time at work where you deserve a break. It’s not your job to take care of everyone around you financially. In fact, you may come to an epiphany that you’ve been doing more than you’ve really wanted to do out of love. In 2025, it will be time for you to officially shift into the slower pace you’ve desired for so long. Any financial burdens that may arise during this slow down can be worked through logically, as long as those around you are willing to work with these adjustments. Anyone unwilling to give you the slower pace you’ve desired is abusing your kindness. 2025 will bring some much needed vacation time and the slower pace at work you’ve always deserved, so enjoy!

🌬️Aquarius: This month is going to increase your sense of urgency for repairing what is wrong with the world, while increasing your desire to help repair the collective! With Pluto’s shift underway in conjunction with your Sun sign, while Venus joins in this energy on the full moon on the 15th; the urgency you’re feeling now for change is only a small portion of what you will feel over the next 18 years. My advice to you is to use this energy to get more involved in giving back to others. Any work with charities, or selfless behaviors, will only act as an outlet for this excess of energy. As we move into 2025, this energy will amplify and can easily be used to build a more sustainable way of giving back to the collective. Any work that involves giving back, will only help amplify your social status and level of self worth now!

🌊Pisces: This month will have you being the reaper of karma and intuitive wake-up calls for those around you now! With Neptune and Saturn both still in conjunction with your sun sign, this will help put the ball in your court when it comes to watching those who’ve wronged you get what’s coming to them. On the 15th during the full moon, you will receive some sort of information that will help you understand the themes coming to you in the new year. My advice to you is to use this knowledge to empathize with those less fortunate now, instead of simply saying “I told you so”. This energy will help align you with your higher self and show you what your most powerful ability really is: your empathy. In 2025, you can expect changes in residence and travel while maintaining your strong intuitive ability to guide you to exactly where you’re meant to be now. Don’t look back, because the only direction you’re going is forward!

[zazikels]

working on a gifset and can i just say phia saban the ACTRESS THAT YOU ARE:

the sharp fucking turn when he's like wubuwbwu its a lieeee, the withering looks she gave him. it was excellent.

[oddogoblino]

Ever get mildly irked at a take on how to respond to something bad only to realize you literally practice it yourself without thinking? Because you learnt from trial and error growing that revenge even on people who abused you just doesn't work and makes you feel stupid and evil?