#there's kids on here so I try to be family-friendly but I have an insanely vulgar vocabulary and cuss like a polish farmer

[eteru-roses]

Also ru good w/ nsfw stuff or?

While I am an adult, I'm an aromantic asexual, so very heavy nsfw things as far as smvt, lime/lemon make me uncomfortable (trauma go brr).

I make a lot of nsfw jokes though so it doesn't really matter. I let people know when I'm no longer comfortable and expect respect from that

I don't mind romantic n vulgar language or nsfw jokes but I do not like graphic text or images.

So basically I just ask people to be decent. I'm a blandant dude and I'll just ask people to stop or say I'm uncomfortable when I get uncomfortable.

Basically just don't make me read smvt or get me or my oc involved in a heavily nsfw situation and I'm fine.

[prettyboykatsuki]

HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO

⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)

⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.

all sexual content present in part two.

⊹ wc ; 17.3k / 36.1k

link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.

LINK TO PART TWO

⊹ a/n ; well. its here. i wont ramble too much but i hope you enjoy and if you dont...well don't tell me. thank you to ame for your endless patience. likes and reblogs mean the world. the title is inspired by the poem linked.

⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.

“Of course you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love.” - andrew kane, how to be a dog.

⊹ PART ONE : A CHILD BORN IN WINTER MUST NOT LONG FOR SPRING.

There’s a dog living outside of Gojo’s apartment. It’s a collarless, lonely thing. Clever, too. 

Though, Gojo doesn’t know much about its life before it started hanging around the area, he gets glances on occasion. It’s not emaciated and it doesn’t look hungry, but it’s roughened up with matted fur and a healed tear in one ear. 

More importantly, it doesn’t bother anybody in the neighborhood. Despite its outward appearance and hostility when approached, its aggression won’t go farther than a warning bark or growl. Most of the adults living in the building know better than to try, but some of the kids living upstairs desperately attempt to befriend it. Of course they fail, and Gojo thinks that that poor thing is growing apathetic to the touches of sticky hands. 

The whole building is pretty fond of it, surprisingly. Gojo lives in a upend complex in a metropolitan part of Tokyo and the people here can be snobbish. So it comes as a shock that this dog wasn’t shooed away months ago. 

Everyones sort of agreed to take care of it. There’s a food and water bowl outside of the security office - and just last week a sign was implemented of Do’s and Don’ts for what food scraps can be left. There’s a donation box to get some proper shots and paperwork - since it looks like the building's doorman has agreed to take it in if everyone chips in for the expenses.

(Gojo suspects this has something to do with those very kids, devastated by the thought of it being gone.)

Warm welcomes from the residents aside, Gojo hasn’t seen it act friendly before. He wonders about that.  It seems hesitant to trust anyone and he’s sure there's a good reason. It’s just that it's clever. To be a stray in this area of Tokyo and be so calm is an impressive feat, so he thinks it probably has some grasp of his own situation. If it acted cuter, it could get a warm house and family too. Though the whole aloof and distant thing does the job just fine, Gojo can’t help but wonder what such a clever creature is doing, turning away from living lavishly. 

Much like everyone else, Gojo’s contributions have come in the form of food scraps and some donation money to work towards the 5,000 yen goal. On the occasion their paths cross, Gojo sits near it. Sometimes, they share a moment of silence and Gojo talks just to see if it’ll ignore him. It seems like it’s listening. It always makes a grunt of dismissal when Gojo turns to leave and he’s started to count that as a little victory. 

Gojo isn’t intrigued by anything as much as that dog. At least not lately. It’s damn near impossible to seriously pique his interest and yet that clever fellow is one of the few things he stops to ponder at. 

Today, Gojo is intrigued by the dog that lives on the street of his apartment and the strange woman who’s petting it like some sort of domesticated baby.

He’s very, very intrigued by that. 

The rain comes down in heavy sheets. It’s a Wednesday, and he has no classes to teach so he’s home and preparing to run errands. He’s going about his day as usual, basically. When Gojo isn’t swamped with a mission or the reformation of Jujutsu Society - he likes to play the part of the average man. 

The plan for today was to take his unused car out of the lot so he could get some dry-cleaning done, go buy a new pair of sunglasses because his old ones are scratched, and go do some shopping. He needs to buy groceries again ( an uncommon occurrence) so that one's on the list too. 

He’s dressed down. A black windbreaker is hanging over his shoulders, tight gray shirt and some comfortable jeans. He’s got on his errand shoes, a nice pair of sneakers and his keys are hanging from a loop in his belt. His hair is styled down and he’s got on his glasses instead of his typical mask.

He has a gameplan, a fully fleshed out expectation of how today will go, and it’s derailed by a woman he’s never seen before. He’s drawn to you so naturally it’s baffling. 

You’re crouched just in front of the security office. Dressed in a loose skirt and long sleeves, looking down by the local neighborhood stray. For the first few seconds, he just lingers on in utter awe. You’re carrying a comically cute umbrella, clear with flowers and a pink edge. He kind of thinks you look like a peony. 

He approaches slowly, quietly. 

When he finally gets close enough to really see, he can hardly believe his eyes. That old, menacing mutt is happily getting his chin scratched by you. 

“Oh, uhm. Hello?” 

The sound of your voice startles him out of his trance. Snapping back to reality, he glances down to where you are and realizes he’s towering over you. In an effort to be polite, he steps back and gives you his most disarming smile. 

“Hi. Sorry for the intrusion, I was just,” He glances at the dog who almost looks offended at the interruption “I noticed you were… petting this dog. Guess I was a little surprised.” 

“Surprised?” 

And your surprise surprises him even more. He blinks slowly. 

“Yeah. He’s not aggressive or anything but uh,” Gojo chuckles, concluding you must be a little new “Well, he’s not exactly friendly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone succeed in well…petting him.” 

You’re taken aback by this information. Yeah, definitely new. 

“Really?” You glance at Gojo before looking back down at it “I just gave him some treats and waited a bit. He’s such a sweetie. Sure you mean this dog?” 

Gojo gets a good laugh out of that. Partially at your cluelessness and partially at your disbelief. He nods, smiling a little. 

“I’m very sure, actually. He must really like you,” He says, hands in his pockets. He bends down to join you, but he’s still a little bigger than you at that height “I guess I can see why. You’re pretty friendly.” 

You peek over at him. You seem a little shy at the compliment. Gojo feels his interest pique a second time today alone. New record. 

“Oh, uh. Thank you. I teach kindergarteners so I sort of have to be.” 

He hums. Reaching his hand towards the dog, who sniffs and cuddles his palm (something it’s never done before) in order to win your favor more. It really is a clever little thing, just like he’d always suspected.

“I’m a teacher too. A highschool teacher, though. No need for me to be friendly, I guess.” 

You laugh at his joke, smile reaching your eyes as you hug your knees to look at him.

“You seem plenty friendly to me.” 

He pretends to think about it. 

“Maybe you have a gift for making people come out of their shell,” He says with sincerity, relishing in the fact he’s finally getting to pet the dog in any capacity “I think this little guy could probably attest to that.”

“And you have a knack for flattery.” You quip. 

The natural chemistry is noticeable enough for it to catch Gojo off-guard. He grins. 

“Hey. I’m not all bad. And what's flattery if I’m being honest right?” 

“Sounds like something a flirt would say,” You tease, airy. He laughs a little. 

“You seem like you’re having fun giving me a hard-time.” He pouts. You giggle. 

“A little,” 

“Jeez. How rude of you…” He waits, prompting your name. You smile. 

You give him your name. You say it soft and easy. He makes sure to return to the favor. 

“And yours?” 

“Gojo Satoru.” 

__

You live up to your first impression in the time that Gojo gets to know you as his neighbor. 

Friendly. The word he’s looking for is friendly. 

There’s other words though. Sometimes meek, typically cheery, oftentimes quiet. You’re quite unassuming, and possibly too gentle when compared to everyone else in the general area. You fit in fine, no worries there. And Gojo knows that for certain because he can’t stop himself from watching over you like a hawk. 

He doesn’t really understand it himself. Gojo gets along with everyone. He’s always been a people person who likes to talk and likes to get to know strangers. There’s nothing that special about your connection in that way. You live next to him, directly across the hall.  You often knock on his door to give him something that you’ve made too much of or ask to borrow some sugar 

And it’s not done with any romantic intent. Gojo is good at reading people. He’s never seen someone so blatantly  romantically uninterested in him. You’re not even conscious of him as a man, cemented to him  by the one time you came to the door dressed in paper-thin PJ’s. He hasn’t recovered from the shock. One of the many times in his life where he was grateful no one could see where he was looking. 

He’s had a few months since your first meeting to get an idea of your personality and what things about you he should keep in mind. You noticed that he’s often not in his house, so you’re relatively aware of your surroundings. You’re often up late because your lights are always on well into the evening. 

(He finds out later you’re usually making lesson plans or little gift bags or planning birthdays. You really love your job, something he can commend while simultaneously  feeling quite jealous about.) 

You favor the lovely spring colors like pink and purple because you have so much of it always on you. You dress brightly in general. And you smile, often, and stumble over yourself trying to be nice to the other tenants. The kids in the building adore you. The sheer amount of propositions you’ve received to be someone's full-time nanny could probably keep you employed for another two decades. 

And you always put your best into everything, no matter what. 

This is probably the aspect Gojo is most fascinated by. It’s not exactly a novel trait. He’s encountered something like it before. One of his most prized students is Maki Zenin. Her whole thing is kicking ass through sheer spite. 

But unlike his students or anyone else he knows - you don’t seem to be motivated by spite or anger or frustration. Even when you are angry or upset - you always force yourself into being more understanding. Into being nice, kind, and still giving it your best if you’ve been shorted somehow. He’s tempted to call you a try-hard. It draws on the line of people pleasing sometimes but it doesn’t matter either way. This is a quality in you Gojo likes all the same. 

He's always been drawn to people who are earnest. His company favors such things. He cherishes Yuuji for such a reason, and can say something similar for Nanami. It’s a refreshing perspective. He’s not a bitter person, but he’s not an earnest one either. So Gojo likes that you’re so properly, gently sincere. 

For the last few months he’s made a real effort to talk to you. So he’s not just the guy next door, but at least an acquaintance and at best a distant friend. On the mornings you both have classes to teach, he walks you to your car and if he wakes up before you - he’ll bring you a cup of coffee or a pastry he knows you enjoy.  

You’ll often do Gojo little favors and he’ll return them - joking to each other about being a good neighbor. An inside joke with each other that Gojo is growing increasingly fond of, all together with leftover cups of coffee and glances that linger too long. Some mornings, he takes out your trash when you’re feeling too tired and you’ll do him the favor of getting the stuff out of his clothes that he doesn’t want to dry-clean. 

It’s these little exchanges that make up the bulk of your interactions. 

He’s even been to your apartment (another reason he’s sure you’re not attracted to him). He went last week to help you cut out little autumn leaves to put on your classroom walls, and you rewarded him with some lemonade. 

He’s still thinking about it days later, how you sit on your legs and the way your cardigan hangs off your shoulder. When you’re focused, you leave your mouth open a bit and poke your tongue through your lips. He’s endeared by it. 

 By you in general.

It’s all boring and mundane, but that’s what makes it. It’s a luxury he rarely affords. Craves, really, which is why he’s starting to go straight home more often than not.

It’s nice that you’re always there. That you’re usually home and when you’re not - Gojo doesn’t have to guess too hard about where you are. It’s so constant. He basks in the feeling of constancy like an expensive silk. 

It’s little luxuries like that, he thinks, that make you so special to Gojo without much effort on your behalf. Being up at the top means he is always fascinated by the place closest to the ground. 

What’s heaven to a man born there?

__ 

In your fourth official month of residence, the neighborhood dog finally gets adopted. 

He’s not there for the big reveal. He hears it from you while he’s on a mission, through a text message and a photo. He acquired your number early on, but you’ve only started doing these text exchanges recently. Reason being Gojo’s had an unusual amount of cases that need his attention and you’ve been very aware of his absence.  

(The first time you texted Gojo after 3 days on the other side of the country, he was scarily happy. After all, most times when he leaves - people are expecting his return.  There’s an assurance that he will return alive, that he has to. It’s not often people worry.

It was another thing he learns about himself through you. Being fussed about is refreshing.) 

Currently, he’s all the way down in Nagasaki. He’s been investigating what the local government has described as an “infestation in the water,” leading to poison and all sorts of hallucination. It’s been causing all of the local hospitals to fill up and the news is advising people to distill their water if possible when at home. Make sure to buy bottled, and double check on your children. 

In other words, there’s an unidentified curse wreaking havoc in small towns and rural areas at an unusually fast rate and Gojo has been sent to figure out its origin. What’s really weird is the location. He’s in Nagasaki prefecture, specifically in Hasami - a town in the Higashisonogo district. He really didn’t have much time to do research on the area, save for a few quick google searches and probing questions to his student, the well traveled Yuta Okkutsu who is a hair more familiar with the region than he is. 

But there wasn’t much for him to find. Hasami is known for the porcelain it produces. The population is a little under 15,000 and the weather is nicer in spring than it is in summer where it gets too humid. It’s considered a small town, though that number is relative in consideration, and currently the local officials are sending off reports about the water supply. 

Even when doing deep research using official means, there was nothing that unusual about the place. No major criminal incidents or occult presence or some other thing that would make this occur naturally. Gojo is no stranger to small town violence or bullying and they can often produce the most volatile curses.

But he’s currently on his 3rd day here, where he’s taken up talking with the locals and he can’t find any specific attitude that would foster a special grade. 

It had led him to a conclusion,  but one he was deliberately avoiding. That someone planted the curse here in Nagasaki, or maybe somewhere else. Which really complicates the whole affair, because then this is an investigation and not just a situation of fate. It also means that this curse was likely harvested somewhere and that Gojo can’t be sure it’ll be easy to get rid of. 

Most importantly, all that fanfare means he’ll be home late. 

Given how much he’s longing to see you, it’s the thing he’s been dreading most. 

It’s weird. He’s never dying to see anyone, with the exception of an old friend long gone. But Gojo has been desperate to see you for the few weeks he’s been away from home. 

(He can’t tell if it’s normal to long this much for a person he truthfully doesn’t know that well.) 

But, while he’s away from home, the thoughts of you play on loop in his head. Like white noise, static yet constant -  there, all the same.  As he walks the rainy streets of Hasami, hands in his pockets - he can’t help but wonder when the next time he gets to see you will be

It’s like some sort of miracle (aren’t you always one?) when Gojo hears his phone ring, buzzing against his abdomen. 

He’s drawn back into reality when he feels it. In front of a store that sells handmade plates and glasses, he lets it go for a while. Feels it buzz against his pocket while he settles his thoughts. He examines his surroundings,  notices the cars, and the mother with her daughter across the street and the gray sky - all before he picks it up. Your name flashes him on screen, and something itches deep in his chest.

The clouds open up. And it’s still raining, but there’s a ray of sunlight cutting through them. For a minute Gojo feels worldly, grinning with damp skin before he slides his thumb across the phone. 

You’ve never called him before. 

“Hello?” He greets, wondering if it was an accident. Then you come through the other side of the line.

“Hi ~,” You say, clearly doing something in the midst of talking “How’ve you been?” 

“I’ve been alright. Very shocked you called me, yanno?”

You laugh quietly. 

“Sorry about that. I just wanted to check in. And I wanted to say thank you.” 

“I mean… I’ll accept but I feel like I should know what for.” He jokes. Your tone goes sincere, marshmallow soft and twice as sweet. 

“You paid the rest of the fees for the dog out of pocket, didn’t you?” 

He smiles to himself.

“Ah. Busted. That was supposed to be a secret between me and Mr. Security-Man,” 

“He didn’t tell me. I just…guessed. Seems like something you’d do.” 

His first instinct is to disagree.

“It’s not like I did it out of the goodness of my heart, okay? It was looking a little sad sleeping during the cold seasons. It was very pitiful. So bad, so sad.” 

“Why’d you do it?” You ask, probing but not too deeply “Like… really. It was really nice of you, but it was a couple thousand and that can’t be cheap.”

He relents, head leaning back on the wall behind him. 

“The kids, remember?” He murmurs, eyes staring up at the gray clouds “You said they’d be sad if the dog didn’t get adopted soon.” 

“The way you’re talking about it makes it seem like you’re doing this for me.” 

“And if I was? Would that bother you, hm?” 

You wait a minute, hesitating with your words. 

“Well…no. I guess not, I just—thank you. I guess I’m just a little… embarrassed about it or whatever.” 

“Shy, huh? Cute.”

“Jeez,” You huff. Gojo can practically hear your grinning from the other side; it makes his heart flutter. He wants to go home, to wherever you are “And you always say you’re no flirt.” 

“I’m not a flirt. I’m just telling it how it is.” 

“Yeah? Well, thanks anyway then. It made them really happy. You should’ve been there to see it. Maybe you can tell them when you get back?” 

“Don’t wanna.” He states outright. 

“You didn’t even think about it!” You exclaim.

“Mm, because I don’t have to. I definitely don’t want them to know.” 

“Why not, though? You’d be their hero, y’know? 

Maybe it’s something in the air. The damp weather out closer to the ocean, or the distance between you. There’s a tiny echo in your words, mechanical through the speakers. The word hero leaves a melancholy in his mouth, floating in the back of his throat like liquor refusing to go down. He chuckles. 

“Ooo, are you into that kinda thing? Like, super charming knights in shining armor? Or superheroes, maybe?” 

You giggle on the other side of the line. If you notice him avoiding answering you, you have the courtesy not to say anything.

“Isn’t everyone? I don’t know. I think if a really good-looking guy saved my life, it’d probably make my heart race a little, yeah. I’d catch feelings over that for sure.” 

He takes a deep breath. Everything smells like rain. 

“Is that so?” He says, chest blooming with warmth “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

__

Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed. 

He was out there for a long time, at least longer than usual when he’s traveling for a mission. He’s not used to hitting so many dead ends. The problem kept growing, but every trail he’d uncovered went cold in about a day. Just before he gave up hope, he was called in by Yagi. Since the issue has spread into other parts of the city, it’s no longer his solo jurisdiction. 

More hands on meant more time for Gojo to be teaching. It also meant that he would finally see you after so long. You waited for him outside the day he returned to Tokyo - wearing a cream colored sweater and the prettiest smile Gojo had ever laid eyes on. 

Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed but it’s not entirely pointless. Upon returning - he had a somewhat shallow epiphany about the way you make him feel. About the way he’s affected by you, which is arguably more valuable than some lead.

Being away from you for so long is something that makes him so irritable. He’s had some time between then and now to come into terms with it. 

Falling back into his routine, it was obvious. Suddenly there was a gap he’d never noticed before that blew wide enough for him to fall through. He actively avoids not seeing you if he can, and ever since your permissive conversation a few weeks ago - it’s harder to notice the way his desires fester. 

There’s not much he wants out of his life. So when anything noteworthy pops up, Gojo is always eager to get a hold of it before it’s too late. 

He usually soothes that by reminding himself of your position as a civilian, a kindergarten teacher at that. The responsible thing to do is make sure you’re safe. To play the hero from the sidelines and ensure you don’t encounter anything from his line of work. That’s his whole life's work. To create a life like that, and it helps to stay on that path when he believes you’re sheltered from that reality. 

That’s why, when you tell Gojo you can see curses, he feels the entire floor collapse from underneath his feet. 

He receives such devastating news over a cup of coffee at that.

It’s closing in to Fall slowly and Gojo has decided to take you out to eat as an apology for his disappearance. He intended to give you another half-truth about his job so you wouldn’t lose any sleep over him. 

When it happens, it’s less that you tell him, and more that you keep glancing. Just over his shoulder, with this terrified expression that Gojo couldn’t not notice, even if he tried. 

You’ve got your hands around a warm drink, in a white, ceramic mug but your gaze keeps diverting to the place behind him. When he looks over to that same place, a curse is there. Small. More insignificant than a bug, but there. 

It’s risky to mention it. Because if Gojo is wrong, it’s not something he can brush off. He’d have to come up with something to excuse himself, and he isn’t sure how to lie out of that (even with his natural disposition of being a trickster.) But when you keep looking, his instinct kicks in. There’s no way you aren’t seeing it. 

He doesn’t ask you directly. That’d be too incriminating, so he lowers his tone. Watches you briefly as you tremble in fear. 

(A small, small  part of him is only asking because he doesn’t like how distracted you are from him. Killing the curse seems like it’d relieve that annoyance too.)

“Can you see it…?” 

The question makes you jump out of your skin. You reel back, eyes widened before the realization really sets in. 

“....It?” 

Gojo looks around the cafe for a minute, to make sure no one is listening before he turns around and points to the cursed spirit behind him. 

“It,” He says, thumb pointed at the deformed curse moaning in one of the booths. 

When it dawns on you that Gojo sees what you see, you cup a hand over your mouth in shock. He can’t describe the way getting that confirmation feels. It raises so many questions about who you are. More than he had before, at least. 

No longer are you the innocent, clueless civilian and that changes every interaction he’s had with you since the start. Though it’s not uncommon for people who can see curses to fall through the cracks, he can feel his own curiosity dig into his skin like seeds taking root. He doesn’t think he should be excited, but he is. 

He’s excited watching your fearful tremble. He’s never seen you like that.

“Yes,” You say, voice a little shaky this time “I can see… it.” 

He takes the spoon out of his latte and cleans it with his mouth. Studying your expression momentarily, he takes a deep breath before standing to his feet. The terror is so subtle, the kind he can only catch because he’s so familiar.. He knows those emotions better than he knows most. 

Curses aren’t phobias. Not illusions or ghosts, but tangible madness. Impactful to those who can see it, but nothing to those who can’t. Fear like that, which can’t be shared with anyone, has a specific look when it shows up in someone. Gojo hasn’t felt that fear since he was very, very little. He watches curses with the same bland expression he might watch a horror movie, but he can understand your reaction at least.  He knows it like the back of his hand. All the people he’s saved, who could see them too, always wore the same one. 

Still, he’s caught off guard. He feels bad that you’re scared. But the proximity between you and him which was once oceans wide has decreased significantly in no time at all. That feels good. Even better than he would’ve imagined. 

“Are you scared?” He questions intently, maintaining a sense of neutrality.

You swallow a lump in your throat, eyes glued to the table in front of you.

“Yes,” 

Your voice is a hoarse whisper. The corners of his lips twitch upward. 

When he’s sure no one is looking, he stands up and walks over to the table behind him. Pretending to look for something so he doesn’t look out of place. It doesn’t take more than a second to destroy it. It’s tiny, something he’d never think of fighting since it’s so harmless. The curse equivalent to a fly. 

He gives it a violent death and sees you look on with horror in your expression. He finds himself pleased with that, wiping his hands on his pants before returning. Maybe you recognize his strength when he sits back down. Still, instead of pulling away again, you fold your hands in your lap. 

“T-Thank you,”

He grins at you. 

“Of course,” He says  “Can I ask you something?” 

You nod your head and sip your tea. 

“Do you know who I am?” 

You look confused.

“...Are you a celebrity?” 

He laughs hard at that. Hearing that makes him not want to tell you. 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” He reintroduces. You nod slowly “I’m a sorcerer.” 

Another lie of omission. The strongest, he should say. He takes a sip of his latte, frowning at the bitterness. Through his mask, he watches as you fiddle with your hands. He stacks the empty creamer cups together before opening two more sugar packets and stirring them. 

“A sorcerer…” You look perplexed. Confusion settles into the lines of your face. Sheltered, Gojo concludes. Only parents, who shelter you wouldn’t tell you what a sorcerer was despite your ability to see them “What does that… mean exactly?” 

“It means I kill curses for a living” He replies simply. 

“I thought you were a high school teacher.” 

He smiles. 

“Smart cookie. I am, but the school I teach at specializes in cursed technique and sorcery.”

“Oh.” 

You look befuddled. 

Gojo thinks he might be an opportunist. 

“Do you really not know anything about them? It’s rare for people to be able to see them and not know anything about them.”

You shake your head, eyes peering into your drink. He watches how the image reflects in your eyes.

“Uhm. Not really. My parents told me to do my best to stay away from it. We lived in the countryside but I had to move out into the city for work so I kept… running into them. I can’t like… kill them. And I don't always see them.” 

“You can’t use cursed techniques?” 

“I guess that’s what that is. I don’t think I can, no.” 

Vulnerable. 

“Hmm. What circumstances,” He says, purposeful in weaving concern in his words. 

“Is it that bad…?” 

Not really. His job and the job of his peers is to make sure civilians make as little contact with curses as possible. There are more people like you, and because curses feed off of negative emotions - many dangers can be shafted by just not reacting. Even so, it’s customary for people to have some semblance of protection. A weapon if nothing else, for anyone who can see them.

“Do you carry anything with you?” 

“Like a weapon? I have mace for when I take the train late at night.” 

“Not that kind of weapon,” He says gracefully. He can tell you’re out of your element, and some small and twisted part of him would like to keep you in the fateful dark.

“What other kind would there be?” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” He half answers. Your frown deepens. He puts his palm over the top of his coffee cup but doesn’t feel any warmth “Aw, don’t be like that. I’m just teasing. You’re always so calm and collected, I was surprised to see how scared you got, you know?” 

“Everybody gets scared sometimes.” 

“Mm,”

His non-committal response leaves you nervous again. Fidgeting with the edge of your cup or the loose threads in the sleeves of your clothes. What a bundle of nerves you are. Gojo puts all the comfort he can in his voice, dredging up some sense of sincerity.

“Well, since it scares you and I’m such a nice guy, I’ll protect you if you get into any trouble.” He says, snapping his fingers and pointing at you.

That makes you relax. Makes your shoulders droop, a smile gracing your pretty face. Gojo can feel the floor underneath him sinking as you tease him. His eyes trace the curve of your neck. He’s glad you can’t see him or where they look. 

“Oh, what? Are you gonna come running every time I need help?” 

He smiles. 

“I’ll be your personal Superman.” He promises, making a silly expression trying to make you laugh. It feels good when he succeeds, the weight of his words softened by it. If you feel how heavy the comment is, it doesn’t show up on your face. 

You snort, taking a sip of your drink and there’s something so kind in your expression that Gojo aches over. 

“That right?” You hum, smiling over the edge of your ceramic mug “You’re my hero.”

__ 

Since then, Gojo’s kept quite busy.

The last time he saw you at all was at the diner a few weeks prior and little has been different since then. You send more nervous messages than before, but aside from that things are the same.

He’s done a good job, he thinks. Partly of ensuring you, partly of instilling healthy fear. Your eyes always widen like you’re caught off guard by his comments - sometimes washed away with a laugh but other times genuine. Gojo likes to keep you on your toes. A  bit of harmless fun and endlessly amusing. 

Gojo would be there to protect you just like he promised before, so even scaring you isn’t something he thinks of as bad. It’s not untrue that you should be a little more vigilant, but just telling you to do so is no easy feat. 

He would like to be spending time with you today just the same as he has before, but he’s home alone instead. There’s been a brief reprieve between cases so he’s on his own to unwind. There’s nothing he wants to do, so he decides on a movie. 

Gojo is the only one of his friends who still has cable TV. According to Shoko it’s a luxury purchase but for him it’s one less choice he has to make when coming home to relax.

It’s an American film on now, some psycho-killer classic that he’s already seen a handful of times with Japanese subtitles. 

None of the lights are turned on, so the TV illuminates the room in flashes of color. He grabs a soda from his steel-gray fridge and cracks it open, listening to the soft fizz that comes to a slow halt. Pulling it to his mouth, he travels slowly back to his couch. The leather squeaks under the weight of his body. The weight of his back creates a divet that he can be comfortable in. He rests his head, glancing back again at the screen. 

A scream rips through the house, agitating his every nerve. He picks up his remote and turns it down just a tad before watching the movie with a sort of disinterest. Horror movies aren’t his favorite, admittedly. He pretends he scares easily, but the opposite is true. Gojo has seen too much for it to be entertaining, no less scary. 

He likes movies based on their creative merit. He’ll watch one on its creative merit. 

But to be scared? For frights? Not really. Very little gets his heart pumping hard like that. Sometimes the storytelling is good. Other times there’s something cathartic about the formulaic death. The final girl, the call from inside the house. The dependable and clean ending of tropes. Even if it’s messy or sinister, it’s fantastical. Fictitious and detached. 

Gojo enjoys that. For anyone else, it’s probably a twisted way to think about it but to Gojo it only feels natural. He doesn’t examine that detachment very deeply. He’s just aware of it, lingering in the back of his head. 

He takes a long sip of his drink. The sickly sweet taste slowly coats his mouth. Fizzy and smooth, it goes down easily. He sits up in his seat, making himself comfortable as he tries to pay attention to the movie. The main girl is hiding in the bathroom, and the killers' steps are echoing through the house. The broken, somber string instruments in the background, fill the white noise with apprehension and terror. 

Gojo doesn’t feel a chill down his spine. His eyes are still fixed on the screen though, with slight anticipation of what's next even though he already knows. It’s nearing the end and he’s seen this movie before. She’s not going to make it, and Gojo knows that. 

He watches intently in spite of that. The door bursts open and there’s a knife in her chest - and screams. It’s horrific and ugly, blood-spattered and graphic. 

He doesn’t flinch until the whole way through.

It’s brief, but the thought passes his mind. Lately, the only thing that Gojo seems to react to is you.

But he doesn’t think about it too deeply. There’s no need to. 

The TV goes to commercial and Gojo realizes he’s finished his soda. He stands back up, onto his feet to toss the can and grab another. This time, he grabs some snacks too. Piles them onto a plate, dried meats, and something mildly sweet for after before he returns to his living room. Sitting back down on his couch, he scrolls through his phone for anything interesting but comes up short of any results. 

He sits up a little straighter as the next movie plays. 

__

Spending time around curses is a necessary part of the learning experience.

Things you can’t learn in all the lessons and tutoring in the entire world. Even though Jujutsu Tech exists, and even given Gojo’s lineage - when he started working officially, he didn’t know everything. You can’t. No matter to what extent you study, there’s some things that you can only gauge through experience. Going through something over and over, like muscle memory.

Gojo spent a lot of his life wanting it to make sense. Wanting curses and the way they showed up to make sense. This is a lesson in truth, divine truth you can only take up in experience. Curses are human emotions, which means that they are finicky and everywhere. And the dangers of them will always look like the aftermath of destruction. 

Sometimes, there’s nothing you can do to prepare for why things happen. It’s why Gojo is always grasping for light where he can find it. 

Gojo Satoru stands in an empty parking lot all the way in Osaka. He examines the sight in front of him and can’t find anything he’s learned to prepare for what's next. 

Fog has rolled in thick clouds over every inch, limiting his vision. The air tastes of smoke, and the earth underneath him is damp. The wet concrete squeaks under the weight of his shoes as he takes in the surroundings. The parking lot of an animal hospital, in particular - where all the staff were reported to have fallen unconscious. After being rolled out by the proper authorities and after all the animals were moved into a different location - Gojo was left to examine the remnants of the incident. 

The reports are similar all across the country. Not the location. but the symptoms. People falling sick and ill. The initial reports of a water-borne illness didn’t progress far past the first city. It’s evolved since then. People get sick, pass out and hallucinate and animals lose all control. 

The aftermath isn’t very messy so luckily it doesn’t attract too much attention. There’s no bodies, or blood - nothing  heinous thereafter. The effects appear later in the people affected, taken over by an unnamed madness that appears to turn their internal experience to ruins. Gojo would’ve preferred the first situation. Violence like that becomes easy to digest with enough exposure. 

These kinds of symptoms are always hard to stomach. Civilians get answers that placate them. The truth is that there's something bigger out there at play and they were just so unlucky to bear witness to the terror. With altered memories and the badge of trauma, what they don’t know can’t hurt them. 

Gojo knows though, and sometimes he envies their ignorance.

He makes his way into the building. A set of glass doors greets him when he turns the sidewalk, with a blinking sign. Osaka Animal Hospital is written at the top in neon, accompanied by the words 24hr service. Gojo only glances at it briefly before sighing, hands on the bar to push himself through the heavy glass doors. He has to lean some of his weight to get through, and there’s just another set beyond those where he has to do the same. 

Then, he’s inside. 

The presence of the curse and of cursed energy ignites familiar caution within him. It’s here, in some capacity - or it was recently. The perpetrator is here too. Why that is, Gojo can’t quite understand. It seems a little backwards to linger here after everyones been evacuated and there’s no doubt someone would come to investigate. 

All Gojo can think is that maybe they weren’t expecting him. But by now, they must know he’s there too. Gojo’s presence is intentionally oppressive - by nature it must be. Now it’s a waiting game, a quiet one at that. 

Hospitals are always echoey and this one is no different. The squeak of his boots bounces off the walls as he takes steps towards the receptionist desk just to see if he’ll find anything. 

He leans over it, to stare at the left over records - untouched by the authorities. Everything looks like it was left in a hurry. Strew pens and a corded phone just barely back in place - with computers on a blue idle screen. All the daily documents are still out sitting on the desk with no organization to indicate they’ve been filtered through. No paper clips or post-its telling the next person working about what to do. 

Instead of walking behind the counter, he climbs over it with relative ease. Once he’s behind it, he takes better note of his surroundings. He doesn’t find anything completely relevant. There’s painting of animals, and some certifications for bills of health as well - but nothing that warrants his attention. He redirects through the papers in front of him, coming across a stack unexamined. Those answer sheets they give you to fill out so they can assess the situation before meeting you. 

They’re split into two piles it looks like, though that could just be some coincidence. Still, he flips through them. Directing his attention to the little comment box with the prompt what are you being seen for? 

It’s nothing serious. Normal things an animal owner would be upset or worried about like bowel movements and eating something that shouldn’t have been consumed. A minor injury or a worrisome behavior - but nothing that sticks out. For pages and pages, Gojo flips through the little packets trying to find anything. 

It’s not what he sees, but what he doesn’t. A blank packet of papers, with no name for the owner or the pet. Only a description in the prompt box, neat handwriting in a single line. 

“Showing signs of anxiety.” 

Gojo smiles to himself. Interesting. 

He jumps back over onto the other side once he’s seen it. It’s strange. Why would they go to the lengths of premeditating it like that? Whether it’s the curse itself or some third party, it’s an unreasonable thing to do. 

“Not like people like this are usually reasonable, but,” 

He saves the rest of the thought, sighing. The room has two hallways to go down. Both directions have some lingering cursed energy,  but the hallway leading to the overnight area is much stronger. It’s separated by a big metal door, so Gojo braces himself to go through it.

He walks towards it slowly and through the doors even slower. It’s a long, empty hall. The ceilings are low, white fluorescent lights over his head like a falsified halo. They flicker on and off, with the ones at the very end of the hall having fizzled out completely. Gojo can hear, feel, and see everything. He can hear his own breathing and the artificial crackling  of electricity. Feel the lingering presence of sickness, the sediments of a curse preparing itself to emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon. 

He peeks into the different rooms of the hallway. One half of the hall is kennels, once again empty and left in the same messy state as the front desk. The other half of the rooms look like surgery rooms, with a storage closet tucked into one corner. The hall comes to an abrupt stop at the end, a painted gray wall with nothing to offer at the end.

But when Gojo is half-way through, he hears it. A heart-beat. A human one, slow and steady like it’s not worried at all. Not moving or running, just there. Thump, thump, thump. 

Gojo perks his head up as he walks, leaning over to get a look at every room. Empty, empty, empty. 

Then, in the very last one is a shadowy figure. The sound of the heartbeat is louder and the feeling of cursed energy is so strong it’s nauseating. Gojo pauses when he peers in, waits for there to be any response to his presence. There’s no way whoevers lurking doesn’t know he’s there, but there’s nothing that makes him react. He frowns. 

His hand reaches for the handle of the door with a sigh, the mechanism inside clicking to let Gojo know it’s open. He takes a deep breath before opening it, stepping inside and shutting it behind him. 

Even with the room as dark as it, the person inside is clear to his vision. A young girl. Probably no older than 17 with… 

He furrows his brow. With a dog, from what it looks like. No ordinary dog, obviously. A curse in the form of a dog, with teeth too sharp for its mouth and fur that looks like a smear of charcoal and nothing like hair at all. It’s on a long leash, the chain wrapped around the young woman's palms. 

The dog seems to tense up at the sight of Gojo. The eyes are empty and white - almost transparent. It’s a snarling thing, muzzle over the mouth and clearly on edge. Gojo looks at its owner, the perpetrator in this instance. Who looks calm, black mask tucked over face and long dark hair with bangs cut sharp.

Gojo doesn’t know what to say here. He wasn’t expecting to make contact this easily with a curse and its master. It’s been months now, the authorities chasing after this special grade from city to city. She’s obviously strong, and so is that curse that’s strained against its collar like it’s ready to rip him in half if he moves. Not stronger than him, because no such thing ever happens - but strong enough for him to be cautious. 

He doesn’t step forward. He stops by the door and tilts his head. He’s sure she can’t see his eyes, but they make eye contact all the same. None of it makes any sense, but making sense of it isn’t Gojo’s job. 

Instead of introducing himself, he opens the conversation with a question. 

“Why’re you still here?” 

“I knew I was going to get caught soon.” 

An answer he couldn’t predict even if he tried. Gojo huffs. 

“There was some time between the authorities coming and this investigation. You could have left before then, no?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Something would’ve stopped me.” 

“What a weird kid. What led you to that?” 

There’s a minute where the dog (?) starts barking,  but the noise is nothing like a bark. It’s cosmic and strained, and sounds more like a distorted radio than an animal noise. It’s in the shape of an animal but it isn’t one, like it couldn’t complete itself to be one. Gojo winces at the sound, intensified in the closed walls of the room. It’s piercing, and a little annoying. 

When she soothes it, it calms down quickly. It’s obedient. 

“Uh. A vision. Closer to a premonition. Fate.”

“Fate said you were going to get caught today. Right.” 

“Aren’t you a shaman? Shouldn’t be that hard to believe.” 

“Point taken. How did you know I was a shaman and not some murderer?” 

She gives Gojo a pointed look. 

“Look at you. Plus, I can feel that you’re a shaman.” 

“Another premonition?” He asks, this time sincerely. She shakes her head. 

“No. Your aura.” 

Gojo stares ahead. 

“...Right, yeah. It doesn’t look like you’re planning on attacking me.” 

“I don’t think I’d win. I’ve never met anyone stronger than me.” 

“I’m the strongest there is, so I guess not. How did you wanna go about this, then? Famous last words?” 

“You go first. I’d rather talk to you than the other officials.” 

“Hm. Don’t know if I have any questions, kiddo. My job is catching you, not interrogation. I guess I am a little interested in why.” 

This makes her deflate a little. It’s hardly noticeable, but Gojo sees it anyway. The dog seems to react, snarling at her discomfort. He’s starting to understand the connection between them.

She thinks for a minute longer before sighing. 

“Well. I guess I should start about why, right? It’s an old story. I came from a small village. I used to walk miles to school everyday and I’d get bullied a lot since my granny was a shaman. It was just us growing up. A nice old house with not a lot of modern anything,”

Gojo crosses his arms, leaning back on the wall and nodding his head. He figures she’ll tell him top to bottom, so he doesn’t give any input. 

“My granny died a few years ago. I didn’t have any family so I moved on my own. Even back then, the only other thing I cared about were animals. I started working at a shelter and then I met Senbei.” 

The more she talks, the worse he feels. Gojo already knows how this story will end, but he doesn’t interrupt her as she pauses between her sentences. Being 17 and bearing the burdens of loss is something he regards as a nightmare. 

“Senbei was my best friend. Most loyal dog ever. And you know, I started my job with high hopes and kept him by my side. I wasn’t always angry. Working in that shelter and watching animals come in trembling every time I fed ‘em made me angry. How cruel and sick people could be.” 

Her explanations are jumbled and clumsy. She sounds angry but it’s not that simple, curling in on herself the more she talks. Noticeably, she doesn’t try to justify it. She says it easily, with acceptance that it happened.  He thinks that acceptance is harder to bear than delusion. Gojo can’t help but commend her silently. 

“I’m sorry you went through that.”  Gojo replies. 

He’s being sincere. 

“Should you be sympathizing with me?” 

“Doesn’t matter. I just do.”

Her expression softens. She looks sad, and it’s not like Gojo doesn’t understand.  She keeps going though, hands shaking in her lap. Gojo thinks she might’ve been waiting to tell someone. 

“I don’t know when I stopped seeing the good in people….I always thought about—about my granny and how no one—no one came to see her. She was always taking care of everyone and no-one—“

“I know, kid,” Gojo says with a sigh “I get it.” 

“Then you know,” She pauses, taking a deep breath. There’s frustrated tears pouring down her cheek this time. What a strange, sad thing she is:  “That you can’t go back. Even if you forget. It just—it changes you.” 

Yeah. Gojo knows something about that, too. 

“I was already pretty desperate when Senbei was alive. Just trying to hold on. When he was killed, I lost it. I just fucking— I lost it. I’m sure you understand. You get it right?”

Gojo looks at her confused. She shakes her head, looking down in her lap at the curse in her hands.

“I can tell you're like me.  That's why your aura is so tainted and… fucked up and  malicious. It should be crystalline blue kinda like spring water—but it’s muddy. Rigid.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“The fact you’re hanging on by a thread. You can feel it too, right?“ 

Gojo remains quiet at her observation. He doesn’t know how to react. 

“When you want something so bad, it just— does something to you. Either because it won’t happen or because it needs to take your life to exist. Happened to granny, to me. It’ll happen to you, too.”

“I doubt that,” Gojo says, your face flashing in his mind. He shakes his thoughts away. 

“You’re thinking about it too literally. You want something, so you chase it and lose yourself in the process. You’re dead. No longer you, all tangled and in ruins. It’s not too late, but if you keep going—that thread is gonna snap.” 

“A premonition?” He says, partially sarcastic. She shakes her head. 

“No, a prediction. You don’t have to consider it if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d tell you since you gave me some last minutes with this Senbei.” 

Gojo shakes his head. 

“I don’t have any reason to be forceful if you comply. Take your time. I don’t have anything better to do.” 

Gojo glances at her as she pets it, having resigned herself to silently gazing upon it. He can’t stop himself from thinking about everything she’s said, so he averts his gaze to the ceiling and pretends otherwise.

The silent stretches, a pregnant pause before she speaks one more time. She has a look on her face Gojo can’t read.

“You know, it’s funny. Everyone thinks dogs are loyal to their masters, but that’s because we made them that way. We can’t stand being alone or unloved so we made something that can do both without ever seeing any less of us.” 

“You’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”  Gojo says, unsure of how to reply. She isn’t expecting anything, but remaining silent fills him with a sense of dread. 

“Guess so. You should take some time to think about it too,”

She says to him, petting the curse that whines like it’s been hit in her small hands. Gojo takes a deep breath. 

“…Yeah. I’ll do that.” 

__

The case ends anti-climatically. 

Gojo finds it funny. The officials came and the young girl was promptly arrested. He never even got a chance to ask her name. He learned through some probing that she only made two asks before being taken. 

The first, to keep her curse dog with her, and to send her thanks to the sorcerer who had apprehended her in the first place.

On the news, much later in the week - a news report surfaces. “Danger in the Deep,” giving reasonable and logical explanations for the events that occurred in cities across Japan not even a few weeks ago. New studies show, experts say, here’s a word from your local—a barrage of fancy language to pad the publishing, add depth and realism. The public is none the wiser. 

Gojo has to admire the commitment to keeping the peace. The case ends, and the girl gets arrested and put on trial. He doesn’t know if he’ll be seeing her again any time soon, though he’s sure he has the power to intervene. 

He’s hesitating to do so. Why stick his neck out for her in a situation like this one? Over other situations, more dire ones at that. She’d make a good ally.

Their last conversation hasn’t left the back of Gojo’s mind. He’s conscious of it, albeit it hasn’t slowed him down. He’s not looking for another assessment of who or what ghosts are haunting him. He’d prefer to put it all behind him now

So life, in some capacity, has returned to its baseline. It’s normal. He has cases but they don’t take him more than three days. He’s able to do his usual chores without anything impeding them. He’s been teaching, no longer forced to make his students fend for themselves. 

He’s been seeing you again regularly, too. 

He’s getting ready now to do just that. Scheduled to get another coffee together (something of a tradition now) and pick up some conversations. You’ve been busy, though Gojo doesn’t know the details of what.

He wants to know. He’s even tried asking but as soon as he gets close to the subject, you slink into yourself like you’re trying to disappear. Besides, he doesn’t want to intimidate you into telling him. 

(Though, it would be so easy to do. You’ve got a record for being a scaredy cat, and as much as it endears him - he is entirely too hung up on the potential for exploitation to admire it kindly. It’d be easy to turn the notches up, pressure you. With how easy going you are, you’d let him do it. Gojo bets you’d cave. He thinks the face you’d make would be entertaining too. 

Above all, the offer is tempting.) 

In spite of your refusal to discuss the specifics, Gojo does want to cheer you up in whatever capacity he can. So, he’s taking you out for a while and hoping a comfortable environment and the presence of other people will soothe your nerves a little. 

He’s getting dressed for it now, rifling through his closet for decent casual attire. 

He’s got his hair styled down, a pair of new sunglasses on the table and his clothes folded on his bed before he tries them on. Most of his closet is uniforms, plain black and boring. For now, he’s settled on a black crew neck and blue jeans - ripped at the knees. 

He looks over his appearance in the mirror, posing in it. Arms flexed and stretched over his head before putting them out in front of his body. 

He takes his time to take part in the ritual. He slips his boxers up over his legs, waist band tight around his torso and clinging to the curves of his thighs. He pulls his jeans up, low at his hips with a belt buckled through the front. Then comes his sweater over his abdomen. 

He wants to look nice. Though, he could be deluding himself - lately you seem a little more aware of his appearance. It makes him happy that his good looks haven’t failed him in the instance they matter most. 

As he puts on his accessories (in this case a watch and a ring) his phone buzzes atop his dresser. He stops to pick it up, a message from you on the screen. He peers over so his face can be read, then smiles. 

(sent 11:15am) Ready ~ 

He laughs to himself. 

(sent 11:16am) Almost ready. Need to look my best for such a tremendous occasion. 

(sent 11:16am) For coffee? 

(sent 11;17) For coffee with my favorite kindergarten teacher ofc ♡

You send back a simple reply telling him to hurry and come out. Gojo chooses to interpret your embarrassment as a sign. It puts some pep in his step, and he hurries to finish dressing up. 

He steps out of his house, locking his door from the outside before shuffling down a single flight of stairs and out into the front entrance of his complex. He notices you waiting at the front gate from where he’s standing. 

The neighborhood dog (officially named Pokupan) is asleep by the security office. You’re the same as always. Today's outfit is a dress with long sleeves and colored tights. It suits you. A splash of warmth in an otherwise dreary world, Gojo stands in place as he watches you for an unidentified amount of time. Minutes feel like seconds as you pace back and forth. Your phone must be in your purse because he can’t find it anywhere on you. 

He’s delighted when you finally turn your head to look at him. You cup your hand and give him a kind wave which he laughs at and returns enthusiastically. His stride is long, walking towards the gate. 

You have to tilt your neck up to look at him (making his chest squeeze unhelpfully) but you smile when you do so. 

“Hey,” 

“Hello there Miss. Waiting for a special someone?” He jokes. You flush. 

“They’re an important friend,” 

He tries not to let his smile falter. Friend. 

“Then, is it a bother if I ask to take you out?” 

This time you falter. Gojo notices it out of the corner of his eye, the briefest brush of nerves that makes it seem like you’re warming up to him after all. It’s gone as quickly as it came but it’s there and Gojo etches it into the back of his eyelids for memory. He smiles at you as you look away, flush

“Not at all,” 

He grins, again, even brighter. Then he sticks his arm out for you to loop in. You hesitate again. This time Gojo can’t be sure why.

“I’m just being a gentleman, you know?” He pouts. His frown takes effect as you loop your arms together. He keeps it friendly. Too much pushing and you’ll skitter away right before his eyes. Still, even this much progress feels good. It feels whole and light and good. 

It’s a pleasant sort of day. 

Not that it’s warm, or even sunny. It’s cold, on the edge of Autumn that dances into Winter. Freezing but bright out, the kind of sky where everything is clear. During the day the sky has no clouds and no stars when it comes to night time. 

Nonetheless it’s nice. The cold is the kind that makes you want to cozy into someone for warmth, so Gojo doesn’t mind walking in. The walk itself isn’t very long either. The cafe is near your complex, just about 15 minutes worth of walking. There’s no snow or ice to trip on, and because it’s freezing - you shiver every time you stray too far from the heat of his body so the walking is done exceptionally close together

There are kids and parents walking together on the street alongside you, dogs and their owners, street vendors with hot tea. It’s that kind of day where the cold doesn’t keep anyone indoors, in fact everyone seems to relish in the fact they can run and run and run without overheating. It feels like everything is in sync with each other, comfortable and harmonious in spite of everything else.

After 15 minutes, you’ve arrived at the store front. Not long enough for Gojo, but that’s okay. There’s next time he has to look forward too. 

(He tells himself this every time. It’s never enough for him. He can never get enough of listening to you talk. He could probably mimic your cadence without having to try. It’s a sound he doesn’t get sick of―a miracle, another one, because Gojo hates so many sounds―yet there’s one he always looks out for. 

There has to be a next time. If he forgets to tell himself as much, he gets so restless he can hardly stand.

The cafe is nice. It’s one of those places that you see on Instagram often with plenty of sweets for Gojo’s taste and plenty of fancy teas for yours. The outside has beige-colored brick and a brown sign decorated with cutesy drawings. You spend a good amount of time crouched beside it, taking a picture or two to later post on your story. 

“You have to tag me, okay? It’s your payment for wasting our precious time together,” He jokes. 

You stand to your feet and brush off your pants, the material of your coat rustling as you do. 

“Yes, yes ― I promise. I’ll have to ask who drew them when we get in there.” 

Gojo smiles at your enthusiasm before opening the door for you.  Another one of those glass ones with a logo printed on the top half and the metal tinted brown. A little bell chimes above your head as you head in first, and Gojo heads in after you. He has to duck not to his his head on the top of it.

It’s not too crowded at this hour. A handful of people sit among the many tables and booths. Your head is turned to the menu and Gojo trails behind you like a shadow. One to compliment all your light. 

It smells delightful inside. Like warm cookies and vanilla and tea. Gojo feels his sweet tooth kick in the minute you two stand in line. The barista is a doe-eyed blonde college student. There’s another employee with long dark hair and thin, narrow eyes. It reminds Gojo a lot of that girl he met a few weeks ago but he tries to put that thought out of his mind.

He sticks his hands in his pockets and eyes the menu. The special item is a yuzu cream cake, the picture of it hanging on the wall like employee of the month. There’s a glass display of all the other items and the menu matches the rest of the decor.

“This was a good choice,” Gojo says, entranced by all the desserts around him. You laugh, turning your head slightly to look at him. 

“Are you complimenting yourself right now?” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“Your sweet tooth is so bad,” You say through giggles “Your poor dentist,” 

He gasps in offense.

“I will have you know I keep my pearly whites pristine. Not a single cavity for the record.” He says back, placing emphasis on the last words. You snort a laugh. 

“I’ve never had one either,” You repeat back, perhaps mindlessly before saying “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other yet.” 

Yet. Yet. Gojo’s subconscious will hold onto that word for too long. It makes his heart beat too loud. He’s relieved that you’re nothing like him. If you were in this very moment, you would hear the thunder raging inside of his ribs. 

Instead of saying anything, he scoffs playfully. 

“I bet you were such a goody two-shoes that you never ate sweets before bed-time.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise followed by embarrassment, where you tuck your chin into your sweater. 

“Ugh,” You say, so weakly Gojo can’t stop himself from laughing “What’s wrong with being a goody two shoes, huh?” 

Gojo feels almost feline in his self-satistication. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it, just that you were one.” 

Your frown deepens. 

“I don’t care for your tone, mister.” 

“Are you gonna scold me like one of your students?” 

“If it gets you to be nice,” You say firmly, in that Teacher voice that Gojo has caught glimpses of over the last few months. He does a fake salute. 

“Yes, ma’am!,” He proclaims,  soft enough so only you hear it. You break out into another set of his giggles, melting his cold heart. It’s not the smile so much as it is yours.  The line moves up just a little bit. Gojo steps in front of you before you have a chance, his figure shadowing you. 

“What do you want?” 

“I think I’m gonna get one of those fruit teas and some cake.” You say absentmindedly. He smiles at you playfully. 

“Heard,” 

Gojo turns to order for you both, laughing through your obvious protests about his paying for you. He’s able to block you from getting in the way as the cashier looks on the both of you bemusedly. When the order is placed, Gojo taps his phone against the reader before moving aside where you stomp your feet and follow him. 

“I told you I would get it this time,” You whine. He hums. 

“Mm, there’s always next time?” 

“You say that every time!” 

“So you never know? Maybe it’s next time for sure.” 

You seem to realize that this is a fruitless conversation and that he’s not going to relent. With a flush on your face, you cross your arms and pout. 

“I’ll get you back one of these times, I swear….Anyway, thank you.” You add the last part quietly. He hums. 

“It’s only fair, you know. After all, who else would come here to eat sweets with me?” 

You look taken aback but Gojo doesn’t retract his statement. He’s sure there’s someone he could ask. But there’s no one who would agree to it as easily as you have. The environment wouldn’t be so welcoming, either. Someone who would do something like this with Gojo is long lost. It almost feels foreign to him now. 

In order to ease the tension, you look up at him warmly. 

“Then, I’m glad you asked me.” 

There it is again. That warm, sort of fluttery feeling he gets in his chest being around you. He wonders if he’s allowed to be so happy. 

The food arrives at the counter, the young woman calling out for Gojo. You and Gojo split the task of carrying the plates, picking a nice booth in the corner with the top covered, You slide in across from him, situating your bag. 

You and Gojo go back and forth, setting up everything so it looks nice under the lights. Gojo takes on taking the photos this time, clicking from a few different angles and stopping to show you after each photo. 

“I’ll send you the picture later, okay?” 

“Don’t forget.” 

“I won’t, I won’t. Let’s eat, okay?” 

You nod enthusiastically.

__ 

You and Gojo eat and chat comfortably for a while. 

He’s not sure how much time passes. He wasn’t checking because why would he? He’d like to be with you a bit longer, so he refrains from thinking about it and hopes you do the same. Just a bit more, he tells himself. Until you really, really have to go. 

There’s nothing major to catch up on. You tell Gojo about your job, mostly and how you saw some friends from out of town the week before. Winter is coming and you want to do something nice for the holidays. You’re getting along well with your fellow teachers which is good. He was worried about that, but he can’t keep eyes on you at school. 

(Not for not having tried. He’s thought about it, but his presence would be too noticeable and he doesn’t trust anyone else to the task) 

So it’s relieving. Your only complaint has been that some of the students have the sort of parents you can’t handle. Pushy and involved in a way you can’t ignore but can’t tolerate either. Gojo jokes to take care of them, gesturing to his arm like he’s ready to knock someone's lights out. 

That makes you laugh, and following it you have this melancholy look that sends alarms blaring in Gojo’s head. You don’t broach the subject at all afterwards. You talk about everything else you can. The sale on radishes at the market, thinking about getting a car just to have it, maybe visiting your parents sometime soon. 

Gojo listens. He doesn’t have much to add. His work is strictly classified to people who aren’t in the field and it’s nothing fun to begin with. He does tell you what he can - usually about some antics his students have gotten into during training. He can at least talk about that. 

He tells you about the movies he’s watched, how he went drinking with his co-workers last week, and how he thinks Pokupan is starting to act friendlier to him. 

It’s fun because it’s you. Gojo likes feeling like he’s involved with you intimately. He likes hearing you talk. The sound of your voice is such a pleasant contrast to his own. You talk with a kind of joy Gojo could never hope to carry, all gestures and smiles and interjections - trying to make sure your point comes across. How you don’t think the kid sitting in the front is a bad kid, just needs guidance. How the material of your sweater isn’t really cashmere but more of a blend. 

Time passes  comfortably that way. The drinks and food have been reduced to crumbs and cold drops of tea, glasses emptied and phones abandoned. 

But neither of you have made any move to leave, and Gojo is still listening to you talk with a pleased smile on his face. It was a pleasant sort of day, remember? 

“So it was fine in the end, but the classroom was such a mess seriously―” 

So, it throws Gojo off when you stop speaking so abruptly. How easily the atmosphere melts, and what an unpleasant film it leaves behind. 

It feels like an axe hammering on a stop, a sharp and near violent thud that cuts off the end of your sentence. The air becomes tense in the blink of an eye. Gojo can feel it, the sensation of cursed energy. It’s stagnated, little like pebbles at the bottom of a creek. But it’s there, and Gojo can feel it creep over your shoulders like a sixth sense. Like someone skipped a stone over that same water. He senses it in the air like dust in the light.

He sits up straight, focusing his attention on you. 

“Hey,” He calls out, softening his voice as much as he can. Trying hard to identify what's wrong exactly “You okay?” 

Your hands shake as you lay them flat on the table. You’re almost completely spaced out by now. It all happens in the blink of an eye. 

Gojo stares at you, calling to you a second time. 

“Hey. Hey, look at me?” 

When you finally hear him, you jump in your skin. Your shoulders relax when you realize it’s only Gojo. Normally that would make him happy, but not like this. Your hands are shaking. A nervous fidget in all of your movements that he’s never seen before, like you’ve been shocked with electric wire. He hates it. The taste of your fear (this fear) is different and unfamiliar. 

He doesn’t like it. 

You turn your head to look at him then avert your eyes again. He can’t follow your gaze as it shifts. It’s too erratic.

“No, uhm. It’s just, uhm.” 

“Woah! Hey, Miss. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” 

Everything feels like it slows down as Gojo watches your eyes snap up. Your expression drops again, even lower, and if he listens close enough he can hear the sound of your heart. Your discomfort is tangible. It leaves a metallic taste in Gojo’s mouth as you suddenly curl in yourself, shoulders hunched and peeling skin off your nails. 

You don’t even look to Gojo for help. Instead, your words go soft.  You become helpless in front of his eyes. 

“Oh. Yes, hello.” You bow your head trying to say as little as possible. Gojo stares as you shake like a leaf in the wind. Something ugly curls up inside of him, a knife twisting in his chest. 

“Aw, c’mon? What’s with the unfriendly act? Is it ‘cause you’re here with your boyfriend?”

You look up at him panicked. Not because of the comment, but because of his tone. Gojo hears it too. How sinister it is. Like he’s blaming you for it somehow, like you’ve wronged him. The feeling inside of him is so ugly, it’s so wretched. His knuckles turn nearly white from how hard he’s closing his fist. You put your hands up and go to explain yourself anxiously. 

It makes Gojo sick. He smiles, turning his head just a little so he can see. He opens his eyes and stares, focusing his vision on remembering every detail of the bastard's face.

“I’m not her boyfriend. We’re neighbors,” He explains, tone as cold as ice but smiling. 

Gojo puts pressure in the atmosphere. His natural and suffocating aura returns to him easily. He smiles and remains unnervingly still, waits in quiet for the man to respond. He scratches the back of his head, still indignant. 

“Uh. Okay. I guess that’s good. Wouldn’t be appropriate for a teacher to be out on a date like this huh?” 

Again. This guy, whoever he is, turns his head like he’s trying to talk down to you. Diverts his perversion and sadism towards you that leaves Gojo wondering what his head would look like against concrete. A bitter, heinous feeling waits inside of him, nesting into his ribs as the sound of every voice in the room comes to be muffled. All Gojo can hear is his heart. How long it's been since he’s heard it. 

It’s loud. A cacophony, or a hymn. Divine rage in the sound of his soul leaves has him unsure of how to proceed. 

Gojo glances at you. Your eyes are rounded, full of desperation. Pleading. 

Gojo hates whoever this is. Gojo wants to save you. He thinks you deserve to be saved. 

He stands up. He has enough height on the guy to be intimidating, the guy just barely coming up to his shoulder. Gojo stares down wildly, pulling his glasses to the bridge of his nose to peek briefly over the edge. The bastard stops talking immediately, words coming to a stutter, It’s satisfying. 

“Who are you?” He asks. 

“Wh-why is that any of your concern? Can’t you see I’m talking to―” 

“I didn’t ask about who you were talking to. I asked who you were,” 

He hears you from behind him “He’s a parent from my school,”

“Ah, okay. Interesting. Since you’re a parent, we wouldn’t want to make this a confrontation right?” Gojo says, bemused “It’d be a real issue for everyone if it turned out that way,” 

Gojo puts a hand on his shoulder, tightening his grip hard enough to hear him gasp. He’s weak, but that’s to be expected.

“So, I suggest you turn around and head home, hm? Since we wouldn’t want it to be a big fuss.” 

Gojo can see it now. With a little pressure, he could turn the blade of his shoulder in sawdust and watch him fall to his knees. He’d let out a cry, a sharp pathetic wail like a hit dog. Gojo would make him say sorry to you before he lets up his hand from his skin. He’d do it infront of everyone in the store so they could hold a little fear in their hearts. 

He won’t do it. Just for now. If it complicates your work then you wouldn’t be able to support yourself. What would he do if you ended up somewhere far away? Out of his sight, something like this could happen again and Gojo wouldn’t be able to take care of you. 

So he doesn’t crush it. He pushes his palms into his shoulder blades and whispers quietly, just so the two of them hear. He pulls away and watches as his face goes pale, a simple stutter leaving his lips. Something about how he’ll see you later and that somethings come up before he turns around and leaves.

Gojo watches as he does. The door chimes again, and the man disappears. The patrons who might’ve glanced turn away again like it was just a simple altercation, which is good. Then finally, Gojo looks at you where you are. Your hands are trembling so hard, a shake of relief in your shoulders as you cover your face. You look like you’re getting ready to cry, so Gojo takes it into his own hands. He cleans up all the food, wipes the table, and even grabs your jacket and bag as you take a minute to collect yourself. 

He taps your shoulder lightly afterwards, waiting for you to look up. Once you do he smiles, reaches a hand out to you so you don’t have to think twice. 

“About time to get out of here, huh?” 

You nod, so slowly. You look so relieved, even as you sniffle. Your hand is so small compared to his. He squeezes it protectively as you slide it into his own, and helps you walk out of the store together. 

The air is cold, the same as before, the temperature having warmed just a bit. The bell above the door rings as the two of you finally leave, standing in the street. Unlike before though, there’s something bitter in the air. The sun has hidden itself completely in the clouds and the streets feel emptier, lifeless. 

Gojo turns to you with a somber expression, trying to smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Do you want to go somewhere to talk about it, maybe?” 

You chew your lower lip then sigh “...Yeah. Probably should, huh?” 

You and Gojo decide on a place not too far from where you are. It’s a small park, a good place to end off an otherwise good day. 

You have to take the bus to get there, but there’s not many people. Gojo eventually gives you back your things, lets you slide your jacket on and fix your face - but ultimately takes your hand and holds it on the ride there. He brings it to his lap and you don’t pull away even though you seem to fidget the whole time. 

The bus finally stops in front of the park. It takes hardly any time, but Gojo finds he’s unable to let go of your hand so he doesn’t. Instead, he holds tight and lets you trail behind. You let him lead you quietly out back in the street. You give your thanks to the driver as the doors close. 

He can’t let go of your hand, though he knows now would’ve been a good time to do it. His grip only grows tighter. 

“Let's go find somewhere to sit,” He offers. You squeeze his hand this time and don’t look away. 

“Okay,” 

He tries to keep pace with you this time, instead of walking ahead. Your strides are shorter than his so he’s careful that you don’t fall behind. Your eyes still have that watery look to them but you’re no longer trembling from fear. Just the cold, if anything. 

And your heartbeat no longer sounds so hazardous. Gojo is still restless, still fidgety. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin but it’s not really for you. 

You find a bench, eventually - in the middle of the long walk-way just a distance away from a playground. Gojo juts his chin out towards it, before turning over to look at you.

“Let’s go sit,” 

You nod as you walk together towards it. You sit first, and Gojo finally lets go of you. He sits besides you. There’s a minute where the whole world is deathly quiet. There should be something calm about it, but it isn’t. You’re no longer terrified, and a distance away. There’s no danger lurking in the dark and there’s no cars passing or children crying. 

Everything is calm and silent, but Gojo couldn’t feel more unease if he tried. He thinks he hides it well. But there’s that itch again, in a place behind his ribs he can’t reach into and he finds it hard to breathe. 

“So,” He starts, breaking the tension “I’m guessing it’s not a friend,” 

The stupid joke makes a smile appear on your lips. It’s small, but Gojo takes some comfort in it anyway. You wipe away your lower lash gently, a wet laugh leaving your mouth. 

“No, not a friend. He’s uhm… a parent from my school.” 

“The one who’s been bothering you for all these weeks?” Gojo supplies. You turn your head, eyes widened in surprise. Gojo lets out a breathy laugh. 

“You….knew?” 

“Not about him specifically, but I could tell something was bothering you,” He admits, and then adds “I always pay attention to my favorite person, you know?” 

The addition has you looking away, but Gojo doesn’t mind. You sigh, rubbing your face with your palms before leaning back against the bench with your head hanging off the edge. 

“He’s the parent of one of my students. Akio, he’s a good kid. A really well-behaved one but… too well-behaved. Never raises his hand, never complains or says he won’t do something.” 

“I’m guessing that sent off an alarm bell, huh?” 

You nod softly. 

“Yeah. I figure it was something at home, but I’d met his mom prior and she was a real angel. Then, his dad came to visit. The man we met at the store, and I knew right away.” 

Gojo feels his jaw clench listening to you talk. 

“But still, you know, my job as a teacher is to be as respectful as I can. I always politely declined him when he would make comments and remained professional. Eventually, his mom stopped coming altogether and—I tried, I really—but he…” You trail off, a lump in your throat. He watches as tears form in your eyes, his anger getting more and more tangible. He tries not to express it, putting a hand on your knee “He just… kept pushing. A-and once, he looked like he was gonna get violent. I made a report, you know, to the school. But you know how they are,” 

“They never even bothered investigating huh,” Gojo sneers. You laugh a tired sort of laugh. 

“Of course not. After that, I just tried to endure it. And I know he hasn’t done anything technically, but it doesn’t really feel like a matter of if but when,” You explain haphazardly.  Gojo squeezes where his hand rests. 

“I believe you. It’s okay,” He says as soothingly as he possibly can “It’s okay. I’m here,” 

There’s a sense of relief that washes over your whole body and before he knows it, you’re breaking down. He feels a lot of emotions all at the same time, watching your little frame as you lose it so easily in front of him. A part of him is so furious he wants to make it everyone's problem. Another part of him is so deeply sad knowing you’ve suffered all on your own. 

And the most notable part of him is the sense of protectiveness, burrowing inside of him. A sense of possession. It sinks into him like teeth, seeps into his blood like the venom of an animal so that he bleeds and breathes it. Gojo can’t shake that deep sense of urgency, a nameless and faceless desire that consumes him. He shudders.. He holds it in, all of it. Cups his hands so desperately so that it doesn’t spill over and touch you, the ink of ruining the soft white of your clothes. 

In a world that you have made beautiful, desire is ugly. Hideous and infectious, it tears Gojo limb from limb. It makes Gojo feel on edge. Gojo should not desire for any more than what he was. People always die when he does. 

But maybe they don’t have to. Maybe, he can protect you. He can keep you safe. He wants to keep you safe. He wants to keep you all to himself.

It’s in an effort to soothe those feelings that his arms find themselves around your form. It’s the first time you’ve hugged in such an intimate way. Where expects you to turn away - you don’t. 

Instead you cling, your arms around his jacket and your face in his chest. You cry and weep and sob and you look so small like that. You look like you’ll collapse and Gojo holds you. Says it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay as you let it all out. It must feel good to finally let it all out, after everything and he doesn’t intend to stop you. 

“I promise I’ll always protect you from now on,” And he says it, and means it. If you feel the weight of his statement, you don’t let it show “It’s okay. You can cry if you need too,” 

You cry and cry and cry. 

And Gojo thinks the call of heaven is nothing in comparison to the sound. 

__

In the end, Gojo can’t forgive him. 

It’s not without effort. He tries to do it at your request, because after all the tears he wants to help. He says he can maybe pull some strings. But that gentle heart you have declines. You don’t want it to become a big deal. You feel a little better knowing he knows. In the end, you don’t want it to affect that brats reputation. 

“You know how kids can be,” You say, voice full of concern for everyone but yourself “I don’t want to make school life anymore difficult than his life at home must be,” 

So, Gojo tries to listen to you. But days pass, and days turn into weeks. In the end, a month goes by and Gojo is full of terrible and divine anger. 

In the end, Gojo won’t forgive him. Gojo can’t let it go. He feels so righteous in it, he starts avoiding his own eyes in the mirror. There’s something inside of them he has no desire to look at. Eyes that tell all, Gojo turns away from their gaze. Gojo is angry for you, and it’s not in his character to do nothing about it. 

He decides on less of a whim that it looks. He wonders about alternatives, if there’s anything that can stop this feeling from imploding inside of him but nothing comes.

When he decides that nothing can be done, Gojo goes out of his way to start watching him. 

Like any mission, he needs enough background information to map out a plan.  He wants to make sure that it has virtually no pushback for you. There’s always a possibility you’ll get caught in the crossfire and that’d be the worst possible outcome. Gojo can protect you from a lot of things, but he’s not as confident about the law. 

(Not that he can’t. Just not in the good, right way he’s sure you want him to protect you in. Gojo’s love is divine, not right. There’s nothing in this world Gojo can’t shield you from, because he’s the strongest.)

 He also can’t make anything obvious or leave any room for interpretation. If there’s anything that feels off when the reports go live - you’ll stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. He thinks in the instance you find out (about all of it, the premeditation  especially) you’d probably tuck your tail and run. 

(Gojo would find you. But the chase means there’s some time you’re apart. The thought is almost nauseating.) 

He likes that you’re curious about everything. In most instances anyways. But he thinks it’s better to leave you in the dark sometimes. Having you worry about it would ruin the point of this. And sometimes, it’s better not knowing every detail. Honeytraps are more ethical than nets. 

He’s doing it for you in the end, like he does most things. And the kid will benefit, maybe even get some sympathy from his classmates for a while about the tragedy that befell his father. Gojo thinks it’s a good plan because no one loses.  It’s a lot like killing a curse. 

It only takes two weeks to learn virtually everything there is to know. A guy like that doesn’t have much he can hide. 

The name of his target, he learns, is Nobu Watanabe. Father to Akio Watanbe and ex-husband to Akiko Watanbe. He’s a recently released felon (let off on good behavior) with a battery and assault with a deadly weapon charge. He’s a college drop-out, and has been working a lot of odd-jobs since he was 16.

His personality is bad, worse is his drinking and smoking habits. He’s often found drunk in the street, and has a track record for single nights spent in a cell. His ex-wife is usually the one bailing him out. Gojo can’t help but feel sorry for her. Somehow, he doubts that he’s good to her. He’s a deadbeat father through and through. He only offers to pick up his kid to harass you. At least from what he can tell. 

He isn’t as awful to his kid as everyone else. Gojo doubts that was always the case. Akio isn’t a bad kid, but it’s hard not to notice the way the light in his eyes disappears when his father comes around to pick him up. A head always looking towards the floor, hands tucked in his pockets. 

It’s difficult for Gojo to feel any guilt about what he’s doing. After everything, he can’t find it in himself to feel any regret. 

His target is currently working at a dock, not too far from the city. He seems to work there most days, working at a bar on the weekends. It’s a big company that handles foreign goods that he does physical labor for. Lifting and moving boxings, checking inventory - it’s not a complicated affair. 

If there’s not a major shipment, he still seems to clock in so he’s definitely paid some kind of hourly wage. He smokes often on the job, but works diligently when there is something to do. An easy but physical job, he’s strong. Gojo can understand what intimidates you about him. 

Gojo, though, isn’t intimidated by him at all. 

He waits a week before he takes action. To shake off anyone or anything that might be trailing him, and to make sure that everything is the same as he observed. That his schedule wasn’t going to change. A week passes, and when Gojo has confirmation - he decides to do what he does best. 

Gojo Satoru decides to play God on a Sunday.

Sunday is a day shipments come in and a day he often works alone. The pay is better on Sunday and Nobu is the only one on his shift who takes it. He’s not expected to finish the strenuous work because he’s alone for such a long stretch of time - just to make a dent in it. The people at the next shift are the ones who finish the job. 

He starts his day as early as 6am. It’s near winter, so the world is painted in a miraculously melancholy blue. Gojo follows him that morning. He knows the route well enough to trail behind him and not attract any attention. They pass together, turning corners and taking bus rides until Nobu’s finally in at his job. 

There, they part briefly. His target goes into the big white building and he goes on top. Gojo has to teleport to the roof because everything is gated with security cameras covering every inch of the property. Following him puts Gojo at risk. So he waits on top of the building, hands in his pocket and pacing until Nobu comes out the otherside to the docks. His jumpsuit put on haphazardly, only half-pulled up to his waist, with a clipboard and pen as a bunch of boxes waiting for him to check them. 

After Gojo confirms that he’s alone, he lies in wait. He sits and waits - watching as the clouds pass. Watching the open sea, how it remains unchanging no matter what boats pass through to shore. He looks at his phone every now and again to check the time. 

It shouldn’t be too difficult to actually do it. 

You know, if Gojo turns his infinity on, there’s nothing in the world that can touch him. He can touch it, but it can’t touch him. There will always be a barrier between his hands and the world. Between him and the known universe, a bridge that started burning the minute Gojo was born into it. If Gojo turns on his infinity, there’s no way to leave traces of him behind. 

Did you know? If Gojo turns on his infinity, his fingerprints don’t show up. There’s no DNA to find. Not a trace of him in the world that he hasn’t left purposefully. Even if Gojo chokes him with his hands bare hands - he wouldn’t be touching him. But Gojo can feel it. Feel his pulse, feel his breathing come down slowly.

If there’s such a thing as heaven or hell, Gojo wants to ask God about being homicidal. If it was a flaw of human design or their Lord reflected inside of them. 

He lies in wait on top of the roof until 7. 

When 7 hits, the world around him is still so dark. No one kills in broad daylight. The heavens are murky, sky full of black clouds like puffs of smoke. It’s freezing cold, a spine-tingling chill making its way up Gojo’s skin and hardening his hands. . Gojo waits for the doors of the garage to creak open. When the sound echoes into the air, a metal screech in the void, Gojo stands to his feet. 

He jumps to the ground, landing with a dull thud. He comes out unscathed, a cat on his feet. He dusts off the front of his pants. Nobu hasn’t taken notice of him. Gojo takes a look around them. There’s no cameras in the warehouse. Gojo waits alone in the dark. 

Five minutes. It’s five minutes when all of the lights go out. 

“What the fuck?” Nobu mumbles, dropping his clipboard on top of a bunch of boxes, running a hand through his hair. Gojo waits in silence, watches as he turns around. 

When he finally does, he jumps back in shock. Gojo feels a cold chill run through his body. 

“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” Nobu asks. Gojo grins. 

“Ah, you don’t remember? We met a few weeks ago! We had a nice little exchange and everything.” He says, voice going higher by an octave. The man in front of him stares, off put by Gojos’ presence. He stumbles in his thinking, his body tensing up. 

“Who the…what the fuck is going on?” 

“Hey, don’t be so scared,” Gojo says, then uses his teleport to phase himself closer. Nobu’s eyes widen, shocked. Scared out of his wits, with the story of heartbeat like he’s being hunted. “Tough guy like you has nothing to be scared of, does he?” 

“W-w-what…how did you…” 

Gojo shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry about it, man.” He says, voice calm and smooth and even. He’s surprised by how his emotions feel in his body. Like he’s so angry that he’s not. There’s something inside of him, the white waters that wade, that Gojo can feel. It’s strange “We’ve got about 5 minutes till the lights come back on.” 

For a while, they stand at a draw. No one moves. Not him, or Nobu, or the open oceans. It’s quiet for a dock. Even quieter for a dock in Tokyo, and Gojo’s not even using his abilities. He probably won’t need too, other than infinity - there’s not any good reason for him to exert himself any more than he must. 

Weeks of planning, weeks of watching, weeks of waiting. Nothing feels like it matters at the moment. He wants it to be over soon-ish. 

It’s not that Gojo is particularly sadistic. 

It’s just that, everything feels like it’s teetering over this very moment. He thinks it to himself quietly like someone trying to remember where they last left their keys. 

Briefly, Gojo thinks “I can’t go back,” after this. In the back of his head he just knows.

He envies this aggravating strangers' ignorance, too. 

“What do you want from me?” He says, stuttering - a gasping breath of fear in his lungs that snaps Gojo out of his thoughts. Gojo shrugs. 

“Nothing, really. I’m not short on money, you know? I make a good living,” He says, spouting off about nothing as he closes the gap between them. Stepping closer infinitely until Gojo backs him into the garage, into the tall tower of boxers where there’s no cameras and no witnesses “Hm…is there anything you can do to fix this?” 

No, Gojo answers mostly to himself, But wouldn’t that be nice? 

“P-please, I have—” 

“A son right? And an ex-wife, and a dead mom in Saitama. You didn’t think I came here without doing any research, did you? We’re the same in that way you know, I might be a frivolous - but hell if I’m not diligent,” 

He looks like he’s going to throw up. Gojo remains indifferent. 

“Who are you?” He asks, this time really wondering. With that hoarse voice of curiosity, of defeat.

Gojo hums.

“Good question. Who do you think I am?” Gojo poses and lifts his hands up. He puts them around his neck, pushing hard until his back is against the stack of boxes. It’s dark but Gojo can see everything. He keeps his open, tightening the grip of his hands slowly. 

Nobu tries to spit something out but the words get sputtered, muffled by lack of oxygen. 

“Do you think I’m a devil? An angel? God? I wonder,” Gojo says, staring. With his mask on, but his eyes opened wide. “Guess I’m kind of like a boogeyman,” 

Gojo can feel it. His body underneath his palms, gasping and struggling for air. He can feel his hands try to pry his hands off. He can feel his body slowly start to lose its air, how he deflates like a balloon. Gojo is unmoving, unfazed, unworried. He’s near motionless except the hard grip of his hand on his neck and the pulse that slows gently under his palms. 

It takes 5 minutes, maybe less, with all the strength in both his hands. Gojo isn’t counting. He holds on for maybe 2 minutes after that, just to make sure it’s not a fluke. He waits till the heart stops sounding in his ears and until the body is completely limp except for where Gojo is holding him away. He goes out sad. Useless, even. 

When Gojo stops, Nobu’s body drops to the floor with a dull thud. He stares at it for a while, then sighs. It’d be nice if he could just leave it there, but he does his due diligence. Picks it up from the ground with relative ease, over his shoulders. 

He walks it out towards the dock - the very edge, before tossing it in water and watching it sink. When it disappears from his sight, Gojo is left with his reflection in the deep blue. He meets his eyes for the first time in weeks, and knows he’s seeing exactly what he thought he would. 

His anger has settled, just barely. Just enough to be able to see the change in his own vision. With his Six Eyes, Gojo can see that there’s no turning back.

 With his mask on, he looks at himself, warped in the vision of the sea. The vision of him—crystalline and white and blue—murky and moving. 

Gojo jumps to the roof and turns the light on again. The power comes back. 

A dog barks distantly, over and over and over. Gojo watches the sun rise alone. 

__

The following weeks pass without a hitch. Gojo feels like nothing has changed. 

(But that’s not true. Everything is different. The same but different)

At the two week mark, winter has set in and Gojo is spending time with you in your apartment together. Currently, you’re cooking dinner (after carefully instructing Gojo to stay put in the living room.) Gojo is sitting watching T.V. He’s helping you grade papers at the coffee table, humming to himself. 

It’s about 7 when the news starts to play. A local news channel and a familiar face on the T.V. Gojo is surprised when the breaking news report airs. 

“Two weeks ago, a missing persons report was filed for ex-convict Nobu Watanbe. Sources say he was last seen working at a Dock in Tokyo - which experienced a power outage. It’s reported that Nobu seemed to have gone missing at the time, and hasn’t made contact with anyone since then. Could this be the work of a…” 

The rest of the report  Gojo tunes out. He turns his head slightly to see if you’ve noticed. Your eyes are glued to it., standing and staring silently. You place your spatula on a towel on the counter.

“We got word about a week prior to this,” You say, breaking the silence after some time without Gojo prompting. He looks at you “Akio started coming with his mom again and she gave me the story. It wasn’t unusual for him to up and disappear, but he hadn’t done so since Akio was born,” 

“That so?” Gojo says, nonplussed. You nod. 

“I feel guilty but,” You trail off, rubbing your arm anxiously “I can’t help but be… relieved. Just a little. I don’t want the guy to be dead or anything, but it,” 

Gojo stops you in the middle of your sentence. 

“You don’t have anything you need to feel guilty about,” He corrects, voice stern. You give him a sad look but he remains firm in his stance “He was harassing you for weeks. It’s only natural that you feel relieved, you know?” 

You’re not entirely content with the response, but you seem to know well enough this isn’t something Gojo will compromise on. You sigh, looking down at the floor. 

“Yeah. That’s true I guess, but still. I wonder what happened to him, or if he just decided to run away,” 

Gojo pretends to think about it. 

“Maybe. Otherwise…guess it was God’s divine punishment,” He says, continuing to grade papers. He doesn’t even look up as he says it. You let out a puff of air through your nose in amusement . 

“Yeah,” You say, “Maybe. I should thank him some time,”

Gojo hums.

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” 

[agirlwithglam]

TEENAGE SUMMER (12-16yo)

so summer has finally arrived and school has ended. and ofc, we want that hot girl summer with the perfect body, mindset, habits, holidays, and a great time in general but what if we have sorta strict parents who are just.. parents. so here are some tips to have your dream summer and glow up but also make it family/ teenage friendly!

GLOW UP:

external glow up tips:

numero uno: WORKOUT. yes, ofc this is on here, what did u think? work.out. decide why u wanna workout first: healthy body? dream body? abs? being stronger? for happiness? for fun? then, you can find a workout on youtube / pinterest for the one you want. (also what i love doing is the workouts on pinterest where its related to a tv show- or just search up [movie/ show name] workout)

smell nice! perfume, scented shampoos/ body scrubs, etc.

SUNSCREEN. trust me, u DO want to put it on.

skincare! moisturiser, lip gloss/ lip balm, exfoliation, etc.

put cold spoons under your eyes in the morning to reduce puffiness.

u dont like something? fix it! i didn't like my teeth for a while, so i got braces. you can't fix it? stop worrying about it and just give it to god cus u got better things to do

MANIFESTING:

affirmations!! affirmations in the mirror, listening to them, repeating them, thinking them, they helped me SO much!

Believe you’re hot. As simple as that.

Visualisation. Imagine people giving you compliments and staring at you all day long

internal glow up tips:

confidence. duhhhh! heres a guide to self love& confidence

abundance mindset. everything works out in YOUR favour.

detachment. stop taking shite so seriously. honestly, if someones hating on you then pity them or laugh then move on. like ur too busy to spend even a second of your day to make someone feel bad about themselves or argue about something pointless.

keep learning! educate yourself, expand your knowledge and your mind.

HAPPINESS. the real glow up starts when you're genuinely happy with who you are and where you are. be a light, carefree, bubbly girl but also remember to set standards and boundaries. when you're just genuinely happy, life truly does start to get better.

hotness is a mindset.

other tips:

channel your little kid energy

take a bunch of photos! (at the end you'll basically have a pretty summer mood board)

don't be on your phone all the time. try to ✨socialise✨ your time on earth is limited don't waste it on crusty, unhot stuff. ur parents will thank you for this as well

romanticise it. (laugh. smile. wear nice clothes, talk to people, get lost in a daydream. appreciate the beauty in stuff. even if its just a sofa.)

be positive. quit complaining. be happy and focus on what you have. spread love and happiness! you're privileged and you are a privilege. act like ittt!

stay present minded. live here, now.

listen to groovy, aesthetic-themes music. to get u into the moooddd!

become a better person. a better daughter/ son, sibling, friend, person in general.

GET OUTSIDEEEE!!!! TOUCH SOME GRASS. its sunny, its summer, why tf r u staying indoors????

sleep girl. sleep. just because you don't have to wake up early tomorrow, does not mean you can stay up till 2am watching netflix. sleep makes your skin glow, makes you look prettier, makes you happier and 10000 more benefits. so sleep.

channel your creativity! (paint, draw, sketch, write, poetry, music, etc.)

play. you're still young!! have fun and do silly and embarrassing things while you still can!!!!!!!

create a summer mood board!

channel a certain era- barbie summer, blair waldorf summer, hot girl summer, etc.

bucket list ideas:

go to a park

redecorate your room

spa day (w friends)

girl slumber parties! (face masks, girlie things, movies)

volunteer somewhere

beach day!

write letters and kiss them (like those pretty pinterest summer!)

go biking (i love doing it in the mornings)

bake! (cakeeee)

get back into some old hobbies (childhood nostalgia)

gardening. care for a plant (then talk to it when you feel sad ur won't be insane i promise)

look at the sunrise / sunset

read dude. just read and romanticise it with a pretty comfy space

make a goal. then work on it so hard that you get it!

learn something new (for me i rly wanna learn crochetting)

scrap booking

do a workout with friends

video diary!! (film everythinggg)

make jewellery (u can sell them after if u want. also there are tons of jewellery making kits on amazon or toys r'us!)

donate / sell stuff (like books and toys)

flower press (with printer tho)

dance with your friends

wear jewellery!! summer necklaces, bracelets, etc!

go for walks (w friends)

get your nails done. (you don't have to go out to get them done. you can do it yourself. i dont have nail polish but my friend does so we love putting it on together)

make some new friends! (join clubs, visit new places, talk to people, join classes,)

go to the beach

"what makes life so beautiful is the fact that it ends"

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

i explain india but i'm drunk.

Hello maggots of mine you're all such babygirls and bastards just like Aziraphale and Crowley. I'm so proud of you all for existing. Yes i'm a wholesome drunk you now know this about me. The wine tastes like rotten grapes and smells of battery acid and cost 245 rupees INR. Speaking of INR, thanks to a maggot's ask, I'm here to explain India. I've never set foot outside of this country. But I'm also very very shit at general knowledge.

To any non-Indians reading this, this is a totally legit 1000% everything covered all-inclusive summary. To any Indians reading this, I'm so so fucking sorry.

India, explained.

So there's south india and there's north india and there's north east india. north india is very racist about south india and they're both very racist about north east india. Most of these people are also probably racist either to other countries or they have internalised racism. It's a wild trip.

There are. A lot of languages here. And a LOT of scripts. I can read two scripts, understand four Indian languages and speak in two of them (badly), and those two are not my native tongues. I cannot speak in my native tongues. It's basically English at this point. These aren't dialects, those are separate. Picture like, Europe, but more, in terms of how many languages.

Everyone hates each other which is valid for the entire planet honestly.

In south india we have a lot of coconuts. Like a lot. There are so many coconuts you have no fucking idea guys you cannot escape the coconuts. I was nearly killed by a shower of coconuts when I was 5 I escaped by one second.

There are also cows. People will tell you that you are being racist when you say India has cows everywhere. But it's true. Two weeks ago I had the pleasure to be stuck in a traffic jam. Next to the street barrier thing (what divides a street im too drunk for this) I saw a huge bull fucking HUMPING a cow. The vehicles just had to move around them. They were having sex right there.

If you're a middle class Indian kid, your career options are: doctor, engineer, scientist, CA, lawyer, government official or family disappointment.

Needless to say, I was going to be doctor and am now instead family disappointment. I'm babygirling so hard it's insane. The prodigal son.

It's very ace-friendly and heterophobic in the sense that you are not supposed to be exhibiting any sexuality whatever in a respectable household. Just shut up and give virgin birth already. But be married. That's crucial.

Oh yeah gay marriage isn't legal trans people are constantly othered by society and/or given no respect whatsover and we're just all vibing here this is totally not why I'm finishing a small bottle of cheap wine on a thursday past midnight alone in my room.

Foreigners are like a zoo species you see them you're instantly concerned like what are they doing outside the TV screens and then either people are normal (rarely), they run up and take photos or try to slip into conversation (more often than you'd think, even I've been guilty of the conversation thing as a kid) OR they start talking about how 'this western culture is ruining our culture'. Which is fair but honestly both the 'cultures' these people are talking about usually involve incredible amounts of bigotry and are more similar than they think.

I think the lesson here is that humans just suck as a species. Except for you maggots. I love you all and I will defend you with my life.

THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT IS INSANELY AMAZING. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE CHAAT. I HAVE NO SPICE TOLERANCE SO I HAVE TO BEG ON MY KNEES FOR THE SPICES TO BE REDUCED BUT STILL. THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT, YOU GUYS. YOU NEED IT.

Sorry yes I'm normal. ALSO THE STREET DOGS. THE INDIES. THEY'RE SO LOVELY AND SWEET AND CHAOTIC AND I KEEP TALKING TO THEM. Once when I was crying I made the dog distress while and like five dogs that I didn't know came running to me and comforted me and licked me.

INDIAN DANCE MUSIC. I FUCKING LOVE IT IT'S INSANE. My family were elitist as fuck so I never got to listen to Bollywood music as a kid but it's AMAZING I'm so glad it exists. Bhangra too.

Beaches very very pretty hills very very pretty honestly the nature is fucking beautiful if you can just quickly pretend humans don't exist, which again is true of this entire planet. Yeah. Okay I'm so fucking drunk.

Yeah lots of diversity which is very nice when the humans aren't screaming at each other about it but the rest of the time it's very nice

The garbage and sewer stories? yeah they're all true im sorry

Traffic rules more like traffic suggestions amirite

Well, we still have far better healthcare access than america. so. there is that.

If you speak English well you'll be mocked and isolated. If you speak English poorly you'll be mocked and isolated. Honestly, just be rich. That'll fix it all.

All the conservatives hate each other and don't realise they're the exact same but in like different flavours.

Oh yeah we have auto rickshaws. Look them up. They're so much better than cars I don't get motion sick as easily in them. But the drivers all hate you and never want to take you anywhere.

Eyyyyyyyyyy it's so fucking fun here *drinsk more alcohol* I am so fucking not looking forward to college.

Please someone crowdfund me out of here let's all go chill in Alpha Centauri I've heard it's nice this time of the year.

I will, however, miss the casual live cow pornos. A true highlight.

[I got this peer-reviewed by my friend in India's top law school, just in case, because I'm too drunk and generally dumb. They say I will not be killed. And they've been on Twitter so.]

Irrefutable legal proof y'all. I don't mean to offend anyone except bigots. Fuck you, bigots, if you're not offended then I've disappointed my community.

[commitmentissue]

zombie aftermath challenge - adjusted

i'm absolutely obsessed with all things zombie related, and i've always been dying to try the apocalypse challenge. it looks extremely fun, but i find the original challenge to be a little too hard for my play style, and the aftermath challenge a bit too short. so here's my version of it based off the original apocalypse challenge and this one from cannibalcupcake. the biggest change i've made is that there are much less restrictions. if it's not listed as a restriction, you can do it. my challenge is also a little different, because it gets slightly harder as you move on. there's also only 5 generations because there's really only so much you can do until you're just playing a regular legacy again. i would highly recommend playing with vector if you want actual zombies, along with this mod and this one if you want weapons to kill them. you may use any other violence/weapon mods if you wish. if not, you may use cheats to get around killing them or any sims. this is pretty long, so everything is included under the cut 🧟‍♂️

to start off with, any surviving sims and heirs must have at least one survival trait. if they get any non-survival trait, they must be killed off when they reach young adult. you may only choose the founder's traits, the rest of your sims have to be randomized. any other traits not listed are fine, i tried to go with what the original list had and my own personal opinions on what would work.

survival traits

-adventurous -angler -athletic -brave -daredevil -disciplined -eccentric -eco-friendly -family oriented (all sims who give birth must have this trait, if they do not, they must be killed off after giving birth. the children may survive) -gatherer -genius -green thumb -handy -kleptomaniac -light sleeper -lucky -natural cook -never nude -nurturing (they may also have this instead of family oriented, but same rules apply) -perceptive -technophobe -vegetarian

non-survival traits

-absent minded -brooding -clumsy -coward -hates the outdoors -heavy sleeper -insane -loser -neurotic -couch potato -hot-headed -over-emotional -unlucky -unstable

stage zero - infection

the world as we know it has fallen- no more electricity, no more jobs, no more people. there's zombies roaming around, after all. however, you managed to survive the end of the world, and now it's up to you to rebuild it.

to survive stage zero;

start off with two young adult sims, can have any traits but must have at least one survival trait. these will be the only sims whose traits you can choose, so pick wisely!

must live in a fenced in lot, if a sim leaves the lot for any reason besides an expedition or killing loitering zombies, they must be killed off

must grow your own food, there's no supermarket

must produce a surviving heir, have has many kids as you need to until you can do this. you also must try for a baby every time your sims want to woohoo

your sims may not have a job or be self-employed. money is obsolete now. you cannot sell anything in your inventory

you cannot interact with any sims outside of the family, they're all zombies!

cannot use any electricity. a stove and refrigerator are fine, they just have to be the cheapest one, you also cannot upgrade anything to unbreakable. you cannot repair or replace anything unless your sim is handy or has mastered the handiness skill. once it breaks, it's gone.

if you can justify something as battery powered, it is allowed, but if it breaks it cannot be fixed or replaced

may use plumbing, but no showers (yes, even the outdoor shower unless you don't like mods). sponge baths only. same rules as electricity

may go on expeditions outside the lot once a week, but once you have children only one sim may go outside until you get a teenager

this stage will be completed once your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage one - lawless land

you and your family thought you had this survival thing down, until other survivors came pouring into town. now you have to defend yourself not just from the zombies, but from other people as well.

to survive stage one;

your heir must join the criminal career and until they are level 5, they must pay a $300 tax to the gangs every week

you may only marry and talk to other sims in the criminal career

you can only join the thief branch, your sim isn't the big bad guy

you can no longer use any plumbing or electrical items, the gangs have tainted the water and have completely shut off all power

can still go on weekly expeditions, but now you must roll a die on whether or not the sim will die. even for life, odd for death

you may also only leave during the night now, as the gangs patrol the streets

you can only have two children, but if neither survive you can try again. your sims must try for a baby every time they woohoo, so be careful, any extra children must be killed off

master the athletic skill

master the logic skill

reach the top of the criminal career

this stage will be completed once you have topped the criminal career and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage two - military power

you grew up knowing that all hope was lost and the past was in the past, until one day the military rolled into town and announced they were taking over. they've vowed to wipe out all the zombies across simlandia, but can you really trust them?

to survive stage two;

your heir must join the military career, and until they reach the top of the career they must pay a weekly $100 tax for each sim in the household (5 sims = $500)

you may only marry and talk to other sims in the military career

you may now use plumbing again, but only from 2PM-5PM

you can use electricity after reaching level 5 in the career, the military provides you with a generator. they must be the cheapest items

you can now use the cell phone again, but only for calls (treat it like a walkie-talkie or radio)

all food must be rationed, you can only keep 5 of each type of produce/meat. the rest must be 'donated' to the military (aka just throw it out, no selling!)

you can have as many kids as you want, but keep the taxes in mind. you can still only try for a baby when woohooing

you may now go on as many expeditions as you'd like at any time of day, but you still must role a die on your chances. even for life, odd for death

master the athletic skill

master the handiness skill

this stage will be completed once you have topped the military career and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage three - the cure

the military has announced that the only way to get rid of the zombies is to set off bombs. but this means you and your family could die, and all that they've worked for will be destroyed. it's up to you to save simanity.

your heir must join either the medical or science careers, but these are no longer jobs- you are a volunteer and money earned must be given back to the career of your choice. you can save $50 each payday

every promotion you get you must roll a die to decide if you lived or died while attempting to create the cure. even for life, odd for death. after 3 successful attempts, the cure has been made

you can now marry and talk to sims outside of your career, but no one from the military

plumbing is now unrestricted

electricity is now unrestricted, but you can still only use the cheapest items

sims no longer need family orientated/nurturing to give birth now that the hospital has been set up. you also no longer have to try for a baby every time they want to woohoo

food is no longer rationed, but you don't trust the meat the military provides. your family must be vegetarian (does not need the trait)

have as many children as you can, you're trying to repopulate and also make sure someone else can take over for you in case you fail at creating the vaccine

master gardening skill

master handiness skill

this stage will be completed once you have successfully created the cure and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage four - survival of the fittest

your parent's cure has been spread around the world, and the zombies have been wiped out. the world is ready to return to normal, but what is normal? you were born into a world of survival, you don't know anything else.

your heir may now join any self-employed career

your sims will no longer need to be killed off for having a non-survival trait, but they must be kicked out at young adulthood

all plumbing and electricity has been fixed and you can now afford nicer things- but do you really want them at this point?

your sim must live off the land, no buying things from stores, you don't trust anything from outside your own garden or what you've caught yourself

you can leave the lot whenever you want and no longer need to worry about rolling a die- it's safe outside!

do not get married

master gardening, inventing, and fishing

reach level 5 in 3 other skills of your choice

raise a spoiled child, they don't have to worry about their life anymore, so they're nothing like you. do not have a close relationship with your children

as an elder, move to a city to see what the new world has become. it's up to you what to do next

this stage will be completed once your heir dies.

and then that's it! you're welcome to continue the legacy past this however you'd like, but that's where i'm going to end it at. if you try this challenge you can @ me, i'd love to see it 💚 any feedback is much appreciated

[jinjurloaf]

the notes on that post by heathenvampires and prismatic-bell are fucking insane (see here for context). jesus fucking christ. being reblogged by zionists tagging it as “gaza shit show,” saying they miss porn bots because they have to bear the burden of palestinians sending asks now. the anger I feel is not communicable.

I don’t see any point in engaging with these people directly. it is clear, to me, from their language (“hit by friendly fire”) that they are not serious people, they do not care about palestinian lives, and they are willfully ignorant.

“explosive ammo? that might refer to spiked bullets that explode after the fact. not common to my knowledge!” what the fuck could you possibly know about the idf? (three clickable links just begging for you to click on them)

so many people are interpreting the number of family members in SUCH bad faith. he never wrote that he has 9 daughters. if you’re going to critique a gazan in the midst of a violent genocide trying to fundraise to save his and his family’s lives for his english then maybe learn to comprehend it yourself first.

extremely ‘woke’ queer tumblr users wondering HOW somebody could possibly refer to “their” kids also having another father? how can families and living situations that don’t align with my expectations and experiences exist??? huh???? what?????

“how can you consider a kid to be your kid without being biologically involved in their birth” is not a particularly difficult question to answer.

empathy is one thing. if you’re not donating or reblogging nobody can make you and that is that. but thinking rationally is another thing altogether and it’s lost on them. all the information is there to answer your questions.

if you can afford to, please donate to help 17 year old muhammad atalla, his parents, his siblings, and his nephews. every small amount counts. if you can’t, make sure to share this with somebody who can. from the river to the sea 🇵🇸

[silver-crowned-riders]

I need to start unfollowing all these criminals and evil teams yall are IDIOTS!

Except us. We're the ones who get it ^_^

( 500 GAZILLION notes )

🐲 route-1-full-evos Follow

Yo that guy doesn't have running shoes let's fucking kill him

( 173,688 notes )

R rocket-grunt Follow

Guyssss Giovanni in that new released court footage... someone help me... 🧎💘💔🚑

R rocket-grunt Follow

WINKING AT THE FUCKING JURY????? SIR

R rocket-grunt Follow

I KNOW he's saving a luxury ball just for me

🌲 nerdy-old-man Follow

None of these words are in the pokedex :(

( 309 notes )

🦔 super-duper-sonic-sandshrew-fan Follow

Hi guys I'm Timmy this is my intro post! I'm 10 and love video games. Team Plasma took me in when I was 6 and I haven't seen my family in years but I'm NOT brainwashed!!! I'm not!!!!! My Pokemon are my lvl 11 Tepig and my lvl 30 Rotom assigned to me that keeps a lookout on me :)

#intro post #team plasma #sonic the sandshrew

( 3 notes )

🐈‍⬛ devious-liepard Follow

Guys can we stop like having evil team leaders try to employ actual literal children. Like how are these kids on Rotomblr in the first place??

🌙 umbral-charm Follow

Okay I'm sick of seeing this post on my dash. The trainer's journey starts at 10 obviously these people can make their own decisions 🙄🙄🙄 you are the same people going on about Team Rocket letting teenagers become murderers its NOT A BIG DEALLL. Evil teams these days are so straight laced it's insane.

💀 layla-used-hex Follow

All of you are wrong I joined an evil team on Club Penguin when I was 9 and I swear whatever kid was running that was a bigger menace than Ghetsis. Leave them alone n they'll accomplish more than Giovanni did

💀 layla-used-hex Follow

Friendly reminder since this is making rounds again that the first two ppl here ended up being Faba sock puppet accounts. Because it's always Faba. It's always fucking Faba.

💰 black-market-posts-evaluator Follow

50,000 Pokedollars

#top reward posts #evaluated posts #trainers journey discourse #no arguments in the notes please arc I already had to deal with that on the last aq*a m*gma post for weeks

( 20,753 notes )

[imagionationstation]

Hiya mate. I'm here back again with another insanity.

Donatello can see ghost.

That's the whole take-away of the AU— a universe where Donnie was able to see ghosts, communicate even interracting with them. Hands down the best psychic the family had.

What's funny is how Donnie was initially a skeptic, never quite believeing the concept of ghouls and spirits roaming the planet Earth after they died, because they have to go somewhere, right? Eventually. Hell, heaven, purgatory— anywhere but what used to be the plane of their existence.

It didn't quite dawn on the poor boy that he was literally seeing dead people during one of his earliest encounter; he saw a humanoid figure in one of his hideout and immediately cower, opting to inform his family that there's a bystander led astray, somehow, to the deepest depth of the NYC sewer tunner system. It wasn't until when his family told him that whoever that he saw must've left while he was still seeing them, right there.

And it was truly a horrifying sight.

Donnie quickly understands the ghost and ghouls and spirits or whatever manifested the form they took during their final moments. The apparitions that materialised seemingly out of nowhere resembling humanities at its worst— and thus Donatello had always been familiar with death.

I thought it'd be a fun concept to make how Donnie was so genuinely horrified when he first had to now share his life with beings outside of the mortal realm— outside of his own understanding— that he'd hide behind his brothers in seeking shelter. It doesn't work, of course. But he'd do it regardless.

- Ellestrade

Leo knows Donnie’s special.

He’s known since the first time that he’d tried playing with something that wasn’t there, chittering feelings of friend with all the content vibrations of safety, trying to get his bale to play too.

Raph and Mikey ignored him, more content to wrestle each other than talk about friends that they can’t see.

Leo doesn’t remember the surface well. Only vague memories of new places and broken objects, keeping his brothers together and waiting for their papa. He knows Donnie met a new friend almost every time they moved, and that the friends stopped when they went below ground. He knows it made Donnie sad, for a while.

Then Donnie and Mikey and Raph forgot.

Leo didn’t. And the next time that he dreamt that these friends weren’t so friendly, he cuddled up in strong arms and used his new, broken words to tell their papa. He cried and papa rocked him.

Papa said, it was a phase. He said, many children go through it.

Splinter promised, it’s nothing to worry about.

Leo learned about invisible friends as he got older. And how Donnie was adapting and maturing quicker than most kids their age.

He watched Mikey make an invisible friend and pretended he couldn’t tell the difference between the confidence in Donnie’s eyes and the silliness in Mikey’s smile.

He decided it was the same, because papa said it was.

They went out into the sewers sometimes. There was this really big area, one with a bunch of pipes in the wall and a large hole in the floor to collect the water that dripped out. It was their favorite place, and papa let them swim and play when it was full.

Leo stood in front of papa, him and Raph pulling on his hands to drag him forward. It was really hot in the sewers and his scales felt all itchy. They were moving so slow and he was certain that they’d never get there if papa didn’t move a little faster.

Mikey and Donnie had ran ahead, ignoring papa’s calls to return. Papa was smiling and Leo could still hear their giggling, bare feet padding down the tunnels. Raph released papa’s hand, beginning to announce that he was going to leave the slow-pokes behind to join their brothers, when someone shrieked.

Raph froze, Leo stumbled, and papa was down the tunnel before the tots even realized that he was gone.

They ran after him, bursting into the water room, and found their papa cradling a shell. They ran up to Mikey, full of questions and fear and bubbling words, but papa shushed them all, sharp gaze bringing the expected silence.

It took some time, but he finally managed to coax Donnie out of his shell. Leo’s little brother buried his face in his robe and told them that there was a human, that his head was hurt and he saw them, that he looked right at Donnie.

Mikey, pale and small under their gazes, whispered that he hadn’t seen any humans. Papa assured him that there was no one there, urging him to see for himself. Donnie had looked up, screamed, and then curled up in papa’s arms to sob about bad eyes.

They went home and Donnie refused to leave his room.

They huddled behind the cracked door, watching Donnie glare at the wall with glassy eyes, arms crossed. Papa remain unfazed, talking in his calm, knowing Sensei voice.

Papa told him that this person wasn’t real. He assured him that nothing had been there. He would have sensed a human in the tunnels; he would have smelled the wounds that Donnie described. He promised that he was always safe.

Donnie’s shoulders slumped, head bowed.

Mikey and Raph left the doorway, whispering their relief.

Leo looked between his papa and his brother, and frowned.

Papa convinced Donnie to come out. He trained and watched tv and played games. Donnie didn’t want to talk about the man anymore, but Raph did. Raph wanted him to say he wasn’t real. Donnie said that he was. They got into a fight and papa had to separate them.

Papa patted Leo’s head and said Donnie was confused. Raph glared at Donnie’s back and said he was a liar. Mikey cried and said everyone should stop being angry. Donnie didn’t say anything.

Leo didn’t know what to say, and so he listened.

He was still listening when Donnie came into his room in the middle of the day and woke him out of his dreamless sleep.

“I’m not a liar.” He whispered when Leo sat up and let him cuddle into his arms. His little brother’s face was wet as it pressed against Leo’s skin. “I saw him. I did, Leo, I did. He looked at me. He looked right at me. He was right there. Why didn’t you see him?”

Leo had shrugged, petting his carapace.

“He was real.” Donnie sniffled, small in his arms. “I saw him. He was real. He was hurt. He looked at me. I saw him. No one believes me. Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

And finally, Leo stops listening. “I believe you.”

But that’s not enough for Donnie, because nothing ever is. “Why?”

“Because you’re special.” Leo says with as much logic as his six-year-old mind can muster. “And next time you see him, you tell me. You tell me and when I’m big, I’ll punch him for scaring you.”

“You can’t see him.” Donnie reminds, defeated. Leo hugs him closer. “You just point and I’ll get him. Promise.”

“But papa said…” Donnie hesitates, meek, snuggling in his arms.

Leo lays down, looking at the roof as his younger brother gets comfortable on his chest. He frowns, thoughtful. “Papas can be wrong sometimes. He was human too, and they don’t know special. Special is scary.”

“I’m scared,” Donnie smooshes his cheeks on his plastron, looking at him with the light from the cracked door. “Are you scared?”

“No,” Leo decides. “Biggest brothers don’t get scared.”

“Oh.” Donnie thinks, like he always does. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Leo agrees, sleepy. “It is.”

And he meant it.

Even if the whole world was scared of Donnie being special, Leo wasn’t. Not when he saw more hurt people in the sewer, people that Leo couldn’t see. Now when Splinter told him that he was hurting him, and that he needs to stop supporting Donnie being special. Not when Raph got mad and Mikey asked them to stop because he didn’t want to know about the girl without a hand.

Not even on their fifteenth mutation day, when they went on the surface filled with awe and wonder, and Donnie grabbed his hand, pale as death, staring at something that Leo couldn’t see.

Leo wasn’t scared of Donnie. And Leo always believed him.

Even if that belief came with night terrors and more sleepless days than he can count, he believed him.

Donnie was special, but he wasn’t alone.

And Leo would spend every night reminding him of it.

So, UHM-

I know I’m constantly sticking my trope in people’s AUs and for that I apologize with no intention of stopping, so sorry.

I debated how this would work and I don’t think Splinter would understand that he’s seeing ghosts immediately. Maybe something happens over the next few years that brings him around, but I don’t believe he’d jump to conclusion of, “Ah, yes, one of my children possesses the power to see ghosts.”

More like, “Oh, dear, one of my boys is mentally ill.”

If the situation was reversed and he was correct- Leo being supportive would be incredibly bad for Donnie’s psyche.

Thankfully, he’s exactly what Donnie needs.

I’d imagine that Raph just sees it as Donnie taking his attention. Being a genius isn’t enough for him. First, it’s just Splinter trying to help him separate reality from his delusions, but then Leo starts defending Donnie. It creates tension, but Splinter doesn’t know how to address it. How do you scold a child for standing up for his brother? Or punish him for trying to do what’s right by another?

Since no one gets violent or harmed because of it, Splinter simply lets them bond and tries to keep the topic out of common talk.

Raph only sees favoritism directed at Leo and Donnie.

The hothead only gets less and less tolerant to the topic as the years go by. Even when Splinter assures them that Donnie’s not sick in the head, the jealousy still lingers and flares at the worst times.

It takes a while for these two to rebuild their bond.

Mikey doesn’t know what to make of the situation. He gets really close to Raph over the years, but he still enjoys spending time with his brothers. He pretends not to hear them whisper about Donnie’s hallucinations every now and then, and their relationship continues as normal in the show. He has to reevaluate some things when it turns out that Donnie is actually telling the truth, but he’s ecstatic to have a brother with- essentially- superpowers. His relationship with Raph gets rocky when he starts spending more time with Donnie, but they patch it up once Raph gets over his issues.

Leo is Donnie’s anchor and the unreasonable, unwavering stance is the only thing that keeps Donnie from thinking that he’s insane. He can see and speak and touch the ghosts, but he still has a hard time coping with the idea that they exist. He knows they’re real, but almost everyone else says that they’re not. Even when everyone finally believes, he still questions his sanity. It still feels like a lucid nightmare that he’s constantly waiting to wake up from.

He leans more and more on Leo as the years go by, and it’s not until they’ve been on the surface for a while that he learns how his dependence has been effecting his older brother. It’s around this time that he draws back and his mental health drops hard.

Despite everything, it’s Raph who ends up bringing him back.

[crimeronan]

hey what is wwaitsoatl?

oh! it's what we are is the sum of a thousand lies, my most popular toh fic by FAR and the thing most toh people here started following me for. back before i got sucked down the princess luz hyperfixation rabbit hole. it's a fic that takes more work to write than any of my others because it has an incredibly involved drafting & editing process. bc i am a perfectionist.

the premise is a canon divergent timeline wherein belos suspects that hunter lied to him at the end of hunting palismen. and completely wrecks hunter's shit forever. and infects him with curse goop in the process. and darius (who, Very Importantly, does not yet have a friendly rapport with hunter) trips over the kid's half-dead body.

and freaks.

and kidnaps hunter n takes him to the owl house. bc that's the one surefire place of refuge on the isles.

there are a bunch of emotional threads, hence why it's novel-length and not even finished yet despite being about just four characters chilling in a house together.

mainly it's about:

hunter unraveling his cognitive dissonance and cult brainwashing in an AU where he doesn't have all of hollow mind's answers; his feelings are Incredibly complicated and messy & he gets incredibly mean and snarly about it

darius grappling with the fact that his own grief and resentment blinded him to a kid who Very Much Needed Him, darius dealing with the fact that actually he never DID grieve his mentor or his mentor's dead family

darius and hunter developing a rapport in a timeline where hunter very much has Not broken out of all the cop shit that darius disdains So Much. so darius is so fucking exasperated and tired all the time

eda trying desperately to help hunter learn to live with a curse / chronic pain / chronic illness, while having very little faith in herself to begin with

luz feeling Horrifically guilty about hunter's curse and injuries, bc she thinks she should have clocked the abuse and brought him home with her or otherwise stopped it

hunter developing an almost immediate and pathological emotional attachment to luz because of her kindness, which complicates all of his complicated feelings WAAAAAY MORE

eda, darius, AND luz all desperately trying to get hunter to admit that he's been abused and that what happened wasn't his fault. you would not believe how fucking long it takes.

i'm actually really, really, Really proud of it -- it's rare for one of a writer's best works to be their most popular, but this genuinely is one of mine. if not my best work, period. there's a lot of nuance and messiness and emotional complexity and grief and arguing that i'm SO happy with.

also, despite the subject matter, it's often extremely lighthearted. some of the funniest dialogue i've ever written is strewn throughout all these serious emotional threads.

i'd apologize for how long this response is but this story is a heart project and has 67,000 published words on ao3 so far. (the chapter i'm writing rn will likely be another ~8,000 words, then there are a couple more chapters to come.) so there's a lot to say!!

it's my most popular ao3 fic for any fandom, ever, in the 12 years i've been on the site. the response has been WILD. if you sort by kudos, it's the 31st most favorited owl house fic Of All Time, the 7th most popular fic involving darius, and the 5TH most popular hunter & luz relationship fic. again, of all time. which is. insane.

people have been very kind and patient with me having been too sick to work on it for a while. there was a seven-month break between chapters 8 and 9, and if i finish chapter ten soon then there'll have been a nine-month break between chapters 9 and 10. so i don't know how many people are actually going to come back to read it, a lot of ppl have moved on from the fandom and such. but i'm extremely extremely extremely grateful to everyone who's given it a look!

[bizlybebo]

hold on. i’m rewatching s1 ep1 of pd right now and i know i’m freaking out over the smallest details but come here.

i know jimmy was more of a side character/throwaway npc in the grand scale of prime defenders but he’s actually insanely interesting and amazing simply because of the context he provides narratively, mostly for the setting they live in and for dakota’s character. in ep1, he talks about dakota not being on the soccer team this year, and dakota mentions how “something happened over the summer, and i just don’t think it’d be fair [for me to play anymore].” this is a really good use of chekhov’s gun on dakota’s behalf (referencing his whole heart procedure), but also it got me thinking more about pre-canon dakota.

it’s established in the first episode that dakota and jimmy already know each other, and that dakota was going to centurion high as just a normal student before he met will and vyncent. given this context, and also the fact that dakota and katori were also implied to have been going to the same school when they were friends, i think it just gives dakota so much more texture and backstory when you Know everything else about him.

specifically it makes me think about dakota’s relationship with katori, and how he described her as “just another kid who was trying to get away from something, too.” i think that katori was kindhearted but pretty socially awkward, and thus was likely a target for being picked on by kids like jimmy, which explains dakota’s “strategy” of sorts where he acts friendly towards bullies and tries to defuse situations if possible, but if they won’t stop nagging on his friends then he’s usually throwing the first punch.

he was probably protective of katori since she was his closest friend, and this kind of thing reflects really well in episode 1 with his defending of william from that same bullying. i think that entire defense, combined with him trying to shoulder the grief/guilt of what happened to katori mere months before canon, as well as his likely anger because jimmy probably didn’t even notice when she was there or that she was gone because to him she was just “another random dweeb” (and the fact he doesn’t really care enough about dakota to notice either) is just. it’s a lot of amazing, semi-accidental context and texture and characterization added to this story and this setting that is so amazing. dakota shone so much in season 1 because the setting was his home; he was the only one in pd familiar with the city and the people within it. and this is known, and it’s used so brilliantly to tie into his backstory and his family and his relationship with his aunt. i just think it’s really neat

[kourabiedes]

Carmine and Kieran Roleswap AU: Teal Mask Edition

Sweet Arceus do I have a long AU for ya, because I am Very Normal about the Kitakami siblings and definitely don't go out of my way to find new ways to mess with their heads. Long AU summary under the cut! Beware all ye who enter here, for there are Ogres afoot.

There is now an Indigo Disk continuation to this!

So the most important thing to understand before we start is that Carmine and Kieran still retain aspects of their normal personalities.  A 1:1 swap would be kinda boring (specifically, boring for me). However, their life experiences have changed here and that does give us some new juicy tidbits to explore.

Sketches provided by @funakounasoul... except for the Ogerpon sketch. I made that.

Kieran is the older sibling in this scenario.  He's still shorter than his sister, but he's now older than the player character and probably has some devilish good looks.  He's generally goodnatured, and being the older sibling and having to look out for a younger sister has balanced his personality a little bit.  He's more mentally stable and mature than his standard self.  He still has a pretty huge fondness for the ogre in the old legend, admiring its independence and strength.  The major change to his personality here is that he's not as insanely shy, since he hasn't had a big scary savage sister to hide behind all his life.

Younger sister Carmine is shy of strangers and still wary of outsiders.  Her posture visually in the Teal Mask is probably kind of stooped, like she's trying to hide how crazy tall she is.  She has a bratty, slightly spoiled attitude in this scenario, because big brother Kieran is always hovering nearby to keep her out of trouble.  She appears to be the player character's age or maybe a touch younger.  Despite the initial shyness though, she's all aggression when she feels she or her family or really any of Kitakami as she sees it is threatened.  She still dismisses Kieran's ogre obsession, but chalks it up to boys liking scary things.  (You know, cuz girls never go for that kinda thing </massive sarcasm>)

The PC would meet them both for the first time in Mossui and Kieran is welcoming while Carmine glowers at you from somewhere behind him.  Kieran's all about helping your classmate get safely to the community center and probably runs off to help, or perhaps to get the caretaker.  Maybe you battle Carmine then because she's definitely not enjoying having these tourists in her fucking town.  Whatever the scenario, Kieran and the caretaker get the rest of the Random Paldean Students safely to the community center and you get settled in.

Now, for a while, things don't change much in this scenario, except for Kieran not being super emotionally unstable.  The next day, you're being introduced to the Blueberry kids properly and Kieran immediately suggests you and he pair up.  Carmine isn't thrilled but as he points out, it's not like they can pair up together based on Briar's directions to make interschool pairs.  She sulks off to find a Paldean student to deal with.  Your character and Kieran have a friendly battle and he admires your skills.  You go find the first two signboards and follow him up to the Dreaded Den more or less the same way as in Teal Mask.  Then he invites you to the Festival of Masks and you go back to the family home.  Carmine is not overly pleased to see you still hanging around, but she's unbending a little bit since you and Kieran obviously get on so well.  They only find the two masks in the shed, Kieran tries to offer you his ogre mask, Carmine stops him, you get to the festival and do some balloon popping and maybe even beat Carmine's score.

It's Ogerpon's appearance that changes the story dramatically.  At first, you are the only one that sees her, but then Kieran comes looking for you after pacifying Carmine.  Ogerpon spooks, drops her mask, and you both have a moment of shock as you realize this is not a child, this is the damn ogre.  Then Ogerpon bolts, leaving you with the Teal Mask.  Kieran is stunned  --  the ogre was so smol!  And seemed so nonaggressive!  And holy shit this mask is beautiful, except there's a chip in the big crystal!  He's excited as hell to have one of his childhood dreams materialize before him.  He wants to go after Ogerpon, but Carmine turns up at that moment.  She has deeply internalized the ancient Kitakami legend of the Loyal Three, and when Kieran excitedly tells her you just saw the ogre, she insists it can't have been, because you and he are both not fucking dead.  She and Kieran argue for a minute, long enough that once it's over, Kieran has to reluctantly admit you'll never catch up to the ogre in the dark.  He tells you to hold onto the mask and you two can go ask his grandpa about it in the morning.  You do, and it's Kieran who is with you when you hear the story of Ogerpon.  Carmine appears at one point and is shooed off by Kieran, but overhears the majority of the story herself.  Unlike Kieran, she can't believe it  --  the heroic Loyal Three, actually villains??  Impossible!  She realizes that if Kieran believes this story, he's likely to go chasing the ogre again, and probably get himself killed, a prospect that chills her to the bone.  She ambushes you both as you leave the family home and demands that Kieran (and just Kieran, she doesn't care what YOU do) not go chasing monsters, making no effort to pretend she didn't overhear the whole damn thing.  Kieran tries to correct her, but she insists you both go have a look at the final signboard, the one that reminds everyone that the ogre murders anyone it comes across without a mask on.  You go, but discuss with Kieran how the story doesn't make any sense compared to the ogre you both saw and the story Kieran's grandpa told you.  You go back mutually determined to get Ogerpon's mask back to her after gramps fixes it. 

You go off to the community center and Kieran goes home.  Something he says at home will alert Carmine to your resolve, and that kicks off the next event.  Carmine demands you meet her at Loyalty Plaza, where she makes an impassioned plea to her brother not to be fooled into getting himself murderated.  He tries to explain that she's still got the wrong impression and she blows up on him, refusing to listen to reason (he almost certainly points out that Gramps has no reason to lie to his own grandkids, for example).  Truth is, she's afraid, afraid for his life, and that's making her act irrationally.

And then a thought occurs to her, a thought that marks a huge turning point in this scenario.  It's you.  You are making her brother act this way.  You are the reason he's doing these insane things.  She accuses you directly of manipulating her family.  Kieran protests, but she's convinced.

Now, in canon, I am convinced that the venom in Kieran's thoughts is what somehow channeled Pecharunt's energy (or some variant thereof) into the Lousy Three's grave and brought them back to life.  In this scenario, imagine the same, only it's the poison of fear which is rapidly spreading through Carmine.  Her fear is being expressed as anger, but it's still fear, and it's consuming her rapidly.  Before either sibling can argue further, the grave splits open, and the Three emerge.  No one knows quite what is happening, so no one can really react effectively as they take off to Kitakami Hall.  It's only as they're already receding into the distance that Carmine realizes they must be the Three.

You and the siblings rush to the Hall to hear the news of the Three's arrival and retrieving of the other masks before going up the mountain.  Kieran starts to rush after them, but suddenly Carmine blocks the way.  She is going to save him from himself if it's the last thing she does.  You battle her and defeat her, and the idea that you are the cause of all this etches itself that much deeper.  She has no choice but to step aside, but you can feel her furious eyes on your back as you run to save Ogerpon.

Poor little ogre is getting the shit kicked out of her and you save her, driving off the Three.  She is nervous around Kieran because he smells like a local and therefore Dangerous, but while a little hurt, he is not crushed by this.  You take her back to the town (she refuses to enter of course) and consult with Kieran's grandpa.  He promises to fix the Teal Mask for Ogerpon if you and Kieran go get a crystal from the Crystal Pool to replace the chipped one, and suggests you and Kieran go pound the shit out of the Three to get Ogerpon's other masks back.  Carmine is sulking at home and overhears the conversation.  You and Kieran go to the Pool with Ogerpon shadowing you, but Carmine blocks your way at the top, angry at Kieran too now for bringing an outsider to this sacred place.  The standoff is broken by Briar also appearing at the summit, distracting Carmine.  Kieran slips past her and you stop her from following with a battle.  Ogerpon stays near you, and her presence only serves to enrage Carmine more.  Kieran retrieves a crystal cluster during the battle and you both bolt back down the mountain to give it to Gramps, leaving Carmine fuming.  He begins to work on the mask and you turn your attention to finding the Three.

You find the Three with Kieran's help and return the shit kicking they gave Ogerpon threefold, retrieving her masks.  Ogerpon becomes more comfortable around Kieran as you go.  You return to the town only to discover Carmine stole the Teal Mask after Gramps fixed it and left Kieran a message telling him to come to the Dreaded Den.  Gramps notes that she spoke with him about the story of Ogerpon before she left and seems to be disturbed by how the ogre has acted since the whole mess began  --  Kieran guesses her good sense is starting to win out over her fear.  You go back to the Den with Kieran and Ogerpon and find Carmine there.  Kieran confronts her, finally convincing her that the story of the Loyal Three was indeed wrong, and she's been wrong about Ogerpon the whole time (probably aided by Ogerpon with her sweet lil face staring like a sad puppy at her). 

Carmine finally accepts the truth of the matter, and apologizes to him and Ogerpon.

But there's one thing she hasn't let go of.  She hasn't forgiven you.  And Kieran doesn't realize that she's still hung up on that part because, while he's a lot more emotionally stable in this scenario, he's still pretty oblivious to subtle emotional cues from other people.  When Carmine walks away from the Den, it's with a venom-filled look in your direction.  Insert Heart's If Looks Could Kill here.

Inevitably, Ogerpon wants you as her human, because you're the damn hero.  This version of Kieran is disappointed, but not shattered by this.  He's spent a lot of time over the last couple days with you and the little cutie, and he's had time to get used to the idea.  It's Ogerpon's decision where she wants to go, and he lets go of the long cherished dream with regret, but nothing worse.  He does ask to have a battle with you and her in the morning, after which Briar calls to tell you to get your asses to the community center to finish the actual school trip thingy you'd probably forgotten all about.  Kieran also tells you that Carmine has holed up in her room and won't talk to anyone.

You know more or less how this ends, with Briar yoinking the Kitakami sibs back to Unova to prepare for some globetrotting and the antagonistic sibling swearing to get stronger so they can kick your ass.  In this case it's Carmine, and boy does she hate you right now.  In the end, Kieran came to no harm, and Ogerpon was not a monster, but it doesn't really matter, because rationality went out the window for her where you're concerned a while ago.  She's going to get stronger, and she's going to hand you your ass for humiliating her so often, and she's got a great idea for making that happen...

[lu-sn]

Pete adjusting to his new life post-canon

tortoise this isn't a prompt this is a freaking dissertation topic 😂 okay okay i can pick one thing and stick to it. i swear

i think post-canon pete is suddenly in a position where he doesn't have any friends.

hear me out. i don't mean that his friendships have completely eroded. he sure did burn some bridges, what with shooting that one main family guy to death, and i bet there are plenty of main family guards who used to be friendly with him and now would pay money to light him on fire. but his core relationships — with arm, or porsche, or even khun — are still there. they're just precariously off-kilter now.

pete is no longer who he was before. he wasn't outright lying, necessarily, but he was... hiding. his friends were only seeing one facet of him, and they've come to understand in a pretty brutal way how much of pete they weren't seeing. no matter what, this is going to affect their closeness with pete. it's going to destabilize the trust they have in him. i would put khun at the far end of the spectrum, aka the most destabilized thanks to pete's defection, and porsche perhaps the least, but it still leaves pete on uncertain terms with everyone who liked him in the before times.

and, like, vegas might love pete, but vegas isn't actually friends with pete yet. they've spent... two weeks of quality time together? most of which was straight up torture? sure, they Know each other, but they're probably going to need to work up to being casual around each other. macau and pete also don't know each other well, and it doesn't help that macau is a kid. that friendship isn't going to be equally balanced for a long time.

so pete's at a bit of a crossroads here. he can choose to let those old friendships go — to let the confusion and suspicion grow thick and gnarled between himself and the others — or he can try to actually fix them. and if he wants to do that, he's probably going to have to start being honest. he's going to have to be vulnerable. he needs to rebuild his friendships from a place of authenticity.

I THINK HE WILL BE REALLY BAD AT THIS. not just because pete would literally die instead of be emotionally vulnerable, but because a lot of the authenticity that porsche and arm and pol and khun are going to ask for right off the bat is going to pertain to pete's relationship with vegas. god knows pete has no idea how to talk about that, let alone the desire to discuss it. plus, vegas hates all of these people. should pete really be telling them anything about vegas? can he be honest with people who vegas probably sees as enemies?

it's going to be a long process. and some of it is going to depend on vegas's relationship with these people mellowing out. i have a feeling pete will be able to reach a place of personal honesty with arm fairly quickly, if he gets to see arm at any sort of regular frequency. porsche is harder because of the whole minor family ring thing, but i think porsche might be the only person who kind of understands why pete would have run away for vegas, and i just think pete needs that understanding from someone else real bad. that connection is going to keep them afloat until they can rekindle their friendship in calmer waters.

but. but pete and khun. oof. that one's hard. does khun have the capacity to see pete as his equal? is pete forever going to keep his former employer at arm's length? i don't think this will ever become a true friendship. perhaps they can reach a point of surface-level congeniality.

in the meantime, pete will hopefully make new friends! macau and pete friendship FOR LIFE. i like to think vegas only has a couple of loyal-to-the-death guards left, and i think it would be kind of cool if pete became friends with them. and maybe pete picks up some insane new hobby to fill up all of his unemployed free time and gets to make casual friends outside of the mafia, friends that are his only, that aren't also tied to vegas or pitted against vegas somehow.

but pete is going to have to work for these. no more empty smiles. fewer white lies. less deflecting. learning to offer up parts of himself to those around him — to weave them into bonds that are made stronger by the truths woven into them.

[invisibleraven]

"why are you looking at me like that?"

rulie

Julie dreams of him at night-a flash of green eyes and a crooked grin. Freckles that glitter like gold in the sunlight. Never a full face or body, just little glimpses that let her put together an image of him in her mind. She can hear the echo of his laughter, the tune he's been humming lately, but never his voice.

Julie has no idea who he is, but she knows she's halfway in love with him.

Which...sounds insane when you think about it. But she knows him, her dream guy. Knows he likes horses from the flashes of them she gets, that he plays a bunch of instruments from the different callouses on his fingers, that he likes leather jackets and red flannels.

She wonders what he knows about her.

But then she has to shake herself-he isn't real, she literally dreamed this guy up, and he just keeps jumping into her unconscious mind to keep her company while she's so alone in real life.

She has no one but herself to blame for that though, deciding to go to college so far away from her friends and family, for the adventure, to see if she could. Plus they have the best composition program, and her music has improved leaps and bounds in just a semester.

Sure she's made a few acquaintances and is friendly with her fellow classmates, but she's not close to anyone, not like she was with Flynn back in LA. She's tried, but she's yet to find someone she clicks with on that level.

That all changes when she decides on a new coffee shop to study in-her usual one was getting too full of hipsters who complain too loudly and tourists visiting to experience a real New England fall.

She's sitting at her table, idly sipping at an apple chai latte while trying to work through a dry theory book when a voice asks if they can sit in her spare seat.

Julie looks up as she says yes, and has to gape-becausen right before her, in the flesh, is her dream guy. The same eyes, smile, even the same clothes. She's sure she nods, but there's no way she can stop staring.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks. "Do I have pizza sauce on my shirt?"

"No, sorry. I just-I'm Julie."

"Reggie."

And that's the beginning of it all. Reggie was another LA transplant, here on a scholarship to study math, with a minor in music before getting his teaching degree.

"Ambitious," Julie comments.

Reggie shrugs. "I've always been one to take too much on. But I had some really good teachers who all but saved my life. I want to be that for some kids one day."

"That is so much more noble than wanting to become a song writer."

"Hey, no!" Reggie protests. "A good song can start a revolution, can change minds, can inspire, uplift, console. Music is amazing, and without it life would be less living. That's why it's my minor, so I can teach both."

They spend the rest of the afternoon talking, eating the cafe out of half their pastry shelf as they hang on each other's every word. Exchanging numbers when Julie eventually has to run off to a night class and Reggie has to go work his shift at the local campus bookstore-his scholarship only covered tuition and the dorm, anything extra came out of his pocket.

And that night, Julie still dreams of him. Only this time she can see all of Reggie, can hear him talk, and god, now that he's real, he's even better. Making her groan because she is definitely head over heels for this guy she just met but has been falling for in her dreams for years.

She doesn't tell him that of course-he would think she was insane.

Julie just keeps on being Reggie's friend, the two of them meeting up at least once a week to get coffee, to study, to catch up. She meets his friends through video chat, and she is sure the guys think she's Reggie's girlfriend from the smirks she gets upon her introduction. Then again when she pulls him into a FaceTime call with her dad, she's positive her papi thinks the same, and she doesn't exactly correct that assumption.

"Are you staying here the summer?" he asks her as the semester starts to roll towards the end.

"Nope, heading home. My tia's cooking is calling to me," she said with a sigh. "You?"

Reggie shrugs. "I was thinking about it. Could take a few more classes, graduate earlier, and it means not having to pay rent. But I also really miss the guys, and the ocean. God how I miss the ocean."

"We're not that far from the Atlantic," Julie replied. "We could get a car one day, drive out to see it."

"I meant the real ocean Jules," he snarked. "But a road trip with you sounds great. Maybe before we both head home?"

"Deal," she replied, shaking on it. "Plus if we're both in LA you can show me the 'real' ocean yourself."

Reggie grinned at that, already making plans for which beaches he wanted to take her to, like she hadn't grown up visiting them all her life. But it might be fun to play tourist in her hometown, especially with Reggie on her arm.

The dreams haven't stopped either-and sometimes they turn romantic. Other times-well she blushes even thinking about those dreams. Honestly she loves being friends with Reggie, but maybe-maybe with the summer before them she should tell him how she feels.

Because if it goes bad they have all the summer to get over and hopefully come back to school in the fall and resume some form of a friendship.

So on the day they're set to take off for the coast, Julie dresses in a cute sundress, tying a scarf over her curls, because the car they managed to borrow is a convertible, and she knows Reggie is dying to drive with the top down. She feels a little thrill when he looks at her like she's a meal and he's starving though.

They drive, singing along with the radio, stopping for snacks and to look at cool little tourist traps, but eventually making their way to a beach. It's covered in rocks instead of sand, and the breeze is a bit cutting, but that only means Reggie tosses his jacket over Julie's arms when she shivers.

They tip their toes in the surf, shrieking at the cool temperatures, laughing as gulls mock their tone.

"Okay, I concede the Pacific is far superior," Julie said as they stroll further down the shore.

"Told you so," Reggie grinned, turning to face the water. "View's not bad though."

Julie has to agree-all she can see is stretching waves and sky, endless blue before her. She leans her head on Reggie's shoulder. "Thanks for coming with me."

"You know I would do anything for you Jules," Reggie said, soft and almost lost in the roar of the ocean, the cry of the gulls. But Julie hears it, and looks up at him, sees the way he's looking back. She presses up on her toes, capturing his mouth in a kiss, tasting the salt in the air, the vanilla chapstick he had applied earlier, the sweetness of Reggie.

He kisses her right back, the two of them melting into it, and a part of Julie is glad the beach they found is deserted so that she doesn't have to share this moment with anyone but him.

She blinks as they pull apart, not even realizing she had shut her eyes, but can't help smiling up at him. "That was better than any dream."

"You dream about me?' he asked, not unkindly, but she can hear the mirth in his voice.

"I've been dreaming about you for years," she confessed. "I thought I made you up until you appeared in front of me at the coffee shop."

"So I'm literally your dream guy?" Reggie asked.

"You think I'm crazy," Julie stated.

"A little," he replied with a shrug. "But I like crazy. And I can live on being someone's dream guy for forever. Especially if it's yours."

"I prefer the real you," Julie confessed. "But I have had a bunch of dreams since we met that I wouldn't mind acting out."

Reggie blushed, pulling her in so their noses could nizzle together. "Well darlin', you just tell me what they are, and I swear I'll make your every dream come true."

And it turns out? He did.

[banamine-bananime]

kate austen has such a lesbian narrative to me. kicked out by her mom for her love - look as a lesbian i'm not saying gay love is the SAME as love for your mom that makes you kill her abuser but, hey, love is love, as they say.

cannot find a place where she's accepted within Normal Society.

she finally stops trying to explain her way back into being loved and accepted by being honest, and instead accepts that the only way she can stop running and being rejected at every turn and live the kind of Respectable life with a Respectable relationship you're Supposed to have is to lie and hide who she is.

and then living this Perfect, Respectable life where she is finally loved by this Perfect husband. it's everything she wanted. right? but she tells someone who knows who she is, who sees her, and wow! how wonderful! he will stop trying to hunt her down and arrest her if she just stays put in this perfect marriage. "But you and I both know that's not gonna happen". what? no. this is what she wants. this is perfect this is perfect she wants this she loves kevin she has to want this

she can't

her life is defined by running and never being able to find the place she'll be loved and accepted and able to just settle down. we have the ultimate proof of concept that she's not capable of it even when she's not being chased, right? if she couldn't stay with kevin, she really just intrinsically isn't capable of just letting herself love someone and be loved and stay. she's a loner who drifts on the wind, making ephemeral connections that can never be strong enough to root her! she will never be able to be part of a community.

but, wait, that's not what she does on the island. it's dangerous going off alone on the island, sure, but she's always lived in danger on her own. it could also be dangerous staying with these unknown fellow survivors who could be violent, could reject or persecute her, especially after telling jack who she is. Nice Respectable communities have always rejected and persecuted her before. why is it different now? why is she embracing the "live together, die alone" philosophy and trying so hard to protect these people and letting herself relax and be silly and make close friendships? it's interesting how this isn't a Nice, Respectable community. it's a totally new community completely marooned from any existing society, growing in a completely new and strange place from people from around the world and all different walks of life - many of them very much not Nice, Respectable walks of life. and she can just be kate, instead of having to be a Nice, Respectable All-American Girl who will get married to a Nice, Respectable All-American Man and have 2.5 kids in suburbia.

and she can be loved and love in ways no one told her she could

this is also why juliet/kate drives me so insane (pos). like.

juliet lives in a horror story about the male gaze

i think about this scene all the time.

juliet is recruited into a Very Nice, Respectable white picket fence 60s hippie-veneer-yet-still-ultimately-just-typical-suburban Americana community. the people are so nice here! all these lovely heterosexual couples (sidenote: god bless you tom friendly for taking one for the team and being a 2000s-TV-show Token. i don't support your gay wrongs but i sympathize with that nightmare). all these "we're a family here :)" potlucks and book clubs. the women on this island are dying.

your boss is such a sweet guy, he's so attentive. why does it make you feel uncomfortable. he's just being nice! you shouldn't feel uncomfortable! but you want to leave and every time there's just one more thing that happens to come up and keep you from leaving makes you a little bit more paranoid. the women on this island are dying.

and still, he's so nice. the potluck is a dinner between you. everything stays very professional, though! if you say anything no one will believe you. what would you even say? he hasn't done anything but be nice. and it makes you want to burst out of your skin and claw your way out through the Nice Respectable white picket fence and never stop running. the women on this island are still dying.

when his facade drops, it's almost a relief to have cold, hard confirmation that you're not being an ungrateful, paranoid bitch. you are very literally being held prisoner in this Nice, Respectable life because this man wants you. and he is not fucking nice, so you don't have to be either (just kidding, of course not. the rest of your Nice, Respectable community will still villainize you if you get angry about it).

juliet and kate freedom from being Supposed to be in Nice, Respectable communities of nuclear families, fulfilling the role they're Supposed to fill to be loved by and please men! juliet handcuffing herself to kate because we love a disaster fucked up MESSY gay tbh. juliet and kate holding hands.... juliet and kate making out....... fuck i distracted myself

[ethereance]

Au where Lance grew up in gravity Falls before voltron. Imagine Allura trying to figure out whether the weird thing Lance says and does is a weird human thing or weird Lance thing

Anon, anon, anon, I love where your brain is at right now.

Humans, to Allura and Coran at least, are weird in their own right. With how similar they look to alteans, they always get thrown by the occasional thing that to them, is just so alien (all those languages they apparently speak even through they’re from a secluded planet, the way cold food freezes their brains—though they enjoyed the food from the planet Icesocles saying it was similar to ‘ice cream’ and wished they could stay longer to build ‘snow men?’, their lack of strength, talk of rain that’s just… water with zero protective shields required to deal with except maybe ‘an umbrella’ which sounds incredibly low tech, and bizarrely only have one heart which is a terrible survival technique). But Lance has a particular brand of weird that just stands out and Allura quickly learns he cannot be used as a basis for understanding what all human first world problems are like.

Hunk tells Allura that it’s just where Lance grew up. Like his hometown, Lance is a bit of a weirdness magnet (which tracks. One minute he’s trying to sneak off and go partying, the next he’s in a cave with a rag tag team and the inscriptions are glowing). Lance has always had these strange stories to tell at the garrison, ones where he was just talking about his family, and the strangeness of his home town was not the focus, but very much prevalent in the story. Some people thought he was just trying to get attention, or seem interesting, but Hunk knew that didn’t seem right. And then Hunk got invited by Lance one year to Gravity Falls and realised that that town really is just like that ™ and you really couldn’t make this kind of stuff up. Turns out it’s not just to attract tourists???? Hunk wonders why more people aren’t freaking out about this (the answer is all proof is seen as fake).

-The Gravity Falls Lance is from is about 50-ish years ahead of the one we’re familiar with. But it’s largely the same. Gravity Falls will always be Gravity Falls.

-When Hunk visited, there was a sudden influx of gnomes in the area. They wanted to steal his all his baking, which Hunk was cool with (once he realised where it was going and not just. Vanishing into thin air), but they had to at least leave some for them. The gnomes miss his baking and really want to make Hunk their queen.

-In this au, Lance doesn’t initially see Pidge as insane for believing in aliens. He accidentally stumbled into the spaceship in the hill when he was a kid whilst trying to look for a missing cat. If he had a nickel for every time he stumbled onto a spaceship… Allura’s the first living alien he’s seen though! And a lot prettier than a pile of bones.

-Lance’s family’s habit of adopting stray cats extends to the bizarre animals of the town too. Lance couldn’t even tell you what species his first pet was. But they definitely are not a cat. He still loves his not-cat Ninja, though <3

-He’s super friendly with a lot of the supernatural. A shame it’s not all super friendly back.

-Lance’s fear of the castle ship being haunted is very legitimate and reasonable. Ghosts are very real!!! (And… maybe there are ghosts here. Not just Alfor’s ‘ghost.’)

-Lance first crush was on a mermaid. Well. Siren.

-“Holy crow! You have mermaids in space too!”

-He’s honestly surprised at how humanoid many of these aliens are. He’s seen stranger.

-Seen many a headcanon about Keith getting caught up in the search for Mothman whilst looking for Shiro (spiralling into the world of conspiracy). Lance will neither confirm nor deny seeing Mothman. Keith just wants an answer :((

-Lance grew up watching bootleg shows on Gravity Falls TV. His references are incredibly niche.

-When Shiro temporarily dies, he has an encounter with the axolotl.

-Haggar/Honerva keeps all those spare Shiros because she, too, is working on making her very own space boy band. As a side gig. Project Kuron takes priority though.

-The longer Pidge spends around Lance, more more interested she gets in hearing about Gravity Falls (she’d heard rumours, sure, but hearing first hand accounts from a local. It has her attention immediately). Pidge just wants to understand the hows and whys and all the science, it drives her nuts, and Lance is just happy to talk about home :)

-Just when Lance thinks he’s free of zombies, now they have space zombies Zarkon and Honerva to deal with.

-Time travel technology is thankfully developed long after people like Haggar and Zarkon are gone. Otherwise… yikes.

-But perhaps the team do end up on a journey to the past and meet the paladins of old??? (Time travel existing is too good to pass up). But trying to change the past leads to time police showing up. What happens to Altea is a canon event :((

-In reference to this comic (that I’m for some reason now thinking about) Lance can now show the alteans the dinosaurs when they come visit Earth.

-Lance finally understands what those soothsquito bites that said ‘Leware Botor’ were all about. A little too late though.

-Sendak doesn’t even know what to think when he tries to invade Gravity Falls. Everywhere else but the garrison was easy. And then there’s this place. What do you mean they have a gnome Voltron?? Your average galra will try and stay clear. It’s lawless, eerie. Troops go missing here. Sendak has had enough of it.

[earthbaby-angelboy]

The vibes Vince Everett, Danny Fisher, and Clint Reno and give as littles

Vince Everett (Jailhouse Rock, 1957):

Let's get this squared away: Vince's regression is rough. Because of this, some of his more negative habits come out to play. How often he slips is determined by how much stress he is under, and he began regressing after he got out of jail to deal with the things he saw and experienced while he was there. He usually holds off regressing and bottles up all his emotions until he drops hard. He regresses through a broad range of ages, anywhere from 3 to 9 (most often around 7.)

He becomes bratty and defiant, trying to break any rules you may have put in place for the sheer joy of seeing how far he can take it. Then, he throws a complete fit when you punish him. Speaking of which, this little boy needs RULES, and strict ones at that. He also needs a routine to provide him with some consistency. He believes that acting out is the only way to get attention, so you quickly need to teach him that it's not okay to behave like that, and all he needs to do to get attention is to ask. He needs a caregiver that has the patience of a saint, because when he's throwing a tantrum, he'll get in your face and shove you around as a way of provoking you to hit him. Sometimes, he'll actually slap you just to get a reaction. You definitely have to remain calm and even-keeled, but also teach him that it is never okay to hit people.

This kiddo chews on his nails and sucks his thumb all the time, and it makes you worry about all the germs going in his mouth. No matter how hard you try, you can't get him to use a pacifier. It drives you INSANE. As a way of compromise, you buy him a chewy necklace, which he always forgets he has. It's definitely not an easy job to be his carer, but it's so worth it for the little bit of relief it provides him.

Danny Fisher (King Creole, 1958):

Danny found himself regressing a few days after his mother died. He didn't know what it was or why it was happening, and quite frankly, it scared the crap out of him. In all honesty, I don't think he'd be comfortable with having a caregiver who wasn't a family member. So, Mimi often takes care of him. She's extremely confused about it; all she knows is that her brother sometimes acts like a kid and gets really clingy. He's very closed off about his regression, and if Mimi mentions it while he's big, he immediately shuts her down and changes the topic. She knows he's not hurting anyone (and that he's been through hell), so she chooses not to further question him and goes along with it.

He regresses into babyspace, and can usually tell before it happens. Before he fully drops, he tells Mimi his head is "getting fuzzy.” So, she prepares a safe area for him and gathers some items he likes to have with him when little. A teddy bear his mother gave him, a blanket from when he was a kid and a pacifier from when he was a baby are the only “little items” he has. He likes when Mimi reads him the books his mother used to read to them as kids. Sometimes, he finds himself crying softly because of how much he misses his mother, and Mimi is right there to comfort him. When little, he often forgets who his sister actually is, and ends up calling her "mama." She doesn't mind; whatever helps him, helps him.

When he's not crying or being read to, he likes to have dance parties with Mimi! They'll put on a record of some kid-friendly songs, and they have a little jam session.

Clint Reno (Love Me Tender, 1956):

He regresses out of anxiety, and it's the only thing that keeps him from going headfirst into neurosis while his brothers are in the Army. He is very playful and energetic when little, but also becomes extremely defensive and more protective of his siblings than when he is big. (I didn't think that was possible, but here we are.) He is quite reckless when it comes to his own safety, but if someone threatens his brothers, he's squaring up and ready to fight. Although he's filled with feral energy, if unprovoked, he's very well behaved. He doesn't throw tantrums, and is a very respectful boy (doesn't matter if you're younger than him, he says "sir" and "ma'am" to EVERYONE.) He doesn't really have a definite age that he regresses to: he's just a kiddo!

He has no problem regressing in front of Vance, Brett and Rey, and is very nonchalant about it. They absolutely freak out the first time this happens and they think he's lost his sanity. When he goes back to being big, they have an intense interrogation session with him, and he explains that sometimes he just feels a little different! After the shock wears off, they melt because for once, their kid brother is allowing himself to be...well, a kid.

He is definitely a gentle giant in the sense that he actually forgets that he isn't physically small. Sometimes, he'll flop on top of Vance and almost crush him. Vance literally does not care, because if Clint is happy, he's happy. I don't think his brothers would treat him differently when he's regressed than they would if he was big; if anything, they just speak in more gentle voices and tone down the rough-housing. He loves playing outside, especially in mud and dirt! He takes a bath every night because somehow or another, he always ends up outdoors.

He's very clumsy, and has A TON of bruises on his knees and elbows. He's more than likely to be wearing at least one bandaid, and his brothers have a first aid kit with them at all times. When he falls, he thinks absolutely nothing of it; he gets right back up and continues playing!

(A/N: i originally wanted to make this with all of the ECU littles, but i haven’t watched all of elvis’ movies yet. with that being said, i’ll most likely divvy this into a few parts, and continuously post as i watch them!)