#they're my special interest and talking abt them makes me happy :')

[matrixbutvirtifed]

Little rant but liek animatic is like the only thing I think about these past couple of months like they're all I draw and have interest in talking abt ye their my special interest but it's liek one of the things that genuinely make me happy the only actual productive things I do in the day is document animatic info and make animatic merch like there's nothing else to do with my life ljek I lost interest in having conversations with people if it isn't osc (especially animatic related) and I rather document abt him than do school work like it feels liek I'm dedicating my whole life to her hahejjska I can't even watch ab episodes without paying extremely attention to them and will feel bad if I don't memorize Animatics diologue haahjs.. ghats so funnimsmskakaloeow

I feel so sopssp normal ignore this

[gfwooyo]

what songs would you recommend to someone who wants to know what kind of music ateez makes?

ooooh okay this is a hard question bc their discography is SO diverse I feel like they really experiment with everything but this chart (missing their latest album) is a super helpful starting place if you know what kinda vibe you prefer

but my PERSONAL favorites that also show their range are inception, hala hala, turbulence, halazia, promise, take me home, be with you, cyberpunk, mist, guerrilla, eternal sunshine, answer, the real, django, fever, and outlaw (also shout out to silver light, youth, it's you, and crazy form from their most recent album. also everything if u like ballads and matz if u like hip hop) (it's killing me not listing more songs like it's actually painful they're soooooo good)

they're def more known for their anthemic songs and their performances but they have suuuuch a varied discography I feel like everyone could find something they like! also this flow chart is cool if u don't like that other chart

it's missing halazia and the world series but it covers the majority!! and then finally this tiktok is a cool way to quickly see but just know even this barely scratches the surface

sorry I couldn't give u a simpler answer and info dumped but thank u for giving me the opportunity 🫂

ps. HIGHLY recommend looking for performances when u find a song u like bc they're so fucking good. mvs too if it's a title track

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

THE "after all, you and i... we're the same. true kindred spirits" AND WHAT YOU SAID ABT MANIPULATION? thats fits sooooo well somehow i can see it

DJSJJF I MEAN LIKE. there's a lot that can go into that line!!! i'm probably reading into it more than necessary!!! but it's just really interesting to me that he says it considering they're first meeting in the main story 🤲 and i dunno if it's intentional or not or true or not, but he does nevertheless frame his words (this line and along with the other quotes i mentioned, too!) in a way where mc is the subject— which is a manipulation tactic that... somehow i haven't seen any of the LI's use on her like this as of yet !! so it stuck out to me 🤔

but like. there's two sides to it and i'm going to. analyze his dialogue under the cut,

(1); using "I" statements directs the subject of the conversation to you yourself. it's usually done by starting the sentence with "i". this helps to avoid pointing fingers, especially when touching sensitive topics. it's used when you want to say something without making the other person recede/back away from you or otherwise gets defensive, because they feel blamed/accused for something! it also shows vulnerability, which makes it easier for others to sympathize with you subconsciously!

for example, "i felt upset when we argued about this earlier" is nicer to hear than "you made me feel upset when we argued about this earlier".

similarly zayne's line in snowy serenity— "i need you. i have never denied that." contrasts how mc says things like "you should stay quiet while i'm still pitying you" and "you're better off not talking" even "the person you like may not feel the same way". the first (zayne) conveys more vulnerability, whereas mc's lines convey more harshness—the same way that zayne uses "you" statements when he scolds her!

(2) using "you" statements directs the subject of conversation to the person you're talking to. it usually involves starting the sentence with "you", and it generally gives off a harsh, authoritative tone. it's imperative, usually—it's commonly used for scolding or chastising, and it's difficult to use sometimes because it can come off as very accusatory. HOWEVER. it can also be used to feed on things like empathy and a sense of belongingness. because the subject on the conversation is on them, they feel special, and seen, and understood, sometimes even wanted—it's one way to garner rapport with someone, and you can even get them to talk about themselves this way! and it's normal human nature for humans to want to talk about themselves, which is why it can work!

for example, "but you're here now, and that's what matters the most." is more attuned to your presence being there, while "i'm so glad you're here now, that's what matters the most." is more attuned to what they feel about you being there. there's a difference depending on what vibe you want to convey in the conversation.

or, off the top of my head there's xavier's line "you seem to bring me happiness that sleep can't give" that sounds easier on the ears and is more heart-fluttering than "i feel happier spending the day with you than sleeping", or something along the lines—it's about what you do to him, not about what he feels.

and so in the dialogues we see so far, sylus seems very fond of using "you"-statements... which like.... i think i can only remember zayne using them the first time we meet him in the main story because he scolds mc on her health, or something? 😭

but again considering that they're just meeting, and yet it already seems like he's making a very conscious decision to choose his words in this way....

it's not even in the same scolding way like we see with zayne/mc, nor is it in a gentle way like with xavier's line

it's like it's deliberately played out to spin the narrative that yes, mc is the guest, the star of the show, and she deserves every bit of attention in this moment.

"you went through all that trouble to enter the N109 zone"

(1) places a card of sympathy (whether mocking or not) because the fact is that the N109 zone is difficult to get into and;

(2) regardless of the situation, mc's efforts to get in are recognized, and she is seen for it.

"i must fulfil my duty as your host"

(1) starts of with "i" so it's technically an i-statement, but closes of with a variant of the pronoun "you". mc is not the subject of the sentence, but mc is the object. in a way, she's still the focal point;

(2) the point could be to soothe being "pointed at"/accused by the harshness of the previous you-statement, while not driving away the focus from mc—she's still seen and recognized in this case, enough so to be treated as a guest, and sylus the host.

(3) it's fun to note that this is the second clause of his statement; it's a follow-up to the previous one. he chooses to address her effort first before going on to shift the harshness of his words, and allow her to relax a little by placing responsibility on him as the host instead. because all a guest has to do is sit back and relax.

(4) a bonus bc!! the introduction of power dynamics! which is an interesting point! because! with hosts and guests—the guests might be getting special treatment, but the host still runs the show! sylus is still able to insinuate that he is the one in control right now, that this is his territory.

"after all, you and i... we're the same. true kindred spirits."

(1) starts off with "you" and is therefore a you-statement BUT...

(2) it's formulated to be almost sympathetic. it's a way of saying, "i understand your plight, your struggles," without being outwardly vulnerable about it. so sylus gets to keep his position of power, while simultaneously:

(3) playing into the theme of belongingness. mc is in an area she's not familiar with, yet sylus uses words that give her the sense of belongingness she likely wants to feel somehow—because humans will always want to feel that need.

(4) it's attempting to simulate trust and, again, make her needs feel seen and understood; therefore making it seem as if, on the emotional front (disregarding the conditions we don't actually know about right now), like mc is obligated to agree.

and like. you know. the pattern!!!!!! it fits with a lot of his other dialogue too and like... generally? it feels like a conscious choice from what we see of him im the trailer. and i have genuinely no idea how intentional that's supposed to be, but because of that, there are hints of subtle manipulation in his dialogue that made me so interested in it LMAOFJSJFJSJJF

LIKE IM PROBABLY OVERTHINKING?? bc who are we kidding right? we don't know anything about this guy or what situation they got caught up with

YET... yk... its a fun thing to try and pick apart

because again it's like. if it's true? we get to see how that facade melts away into genuineness when we realize he actually cared for her. which is like. just as fun <3

[tvbeetletrooper]

how did you discover/come up with tvbeetle because I’m starting to get invested

I'm being 100% honest when I say I DONT KNOW. LIKE I think I was in a public lobby and I was talking abt pest ships w someone and I said "lol if pest x scag was a thing it'd be scagbeetle like stag beetle haha" and then I became evil

Why I became so attached to it... it probably stems from my objectum pest headcanon. Visually I think they're an interesting couple too bc the color combo of red and blue makes me happy.

I just love ships between people and objects bc there's a level of intimacy there that scratches my brain nicely. I could've shipped scag w anyone but I chose pest because his whole thing w machinery and robots and like... the first scenario I thought of was pest doing maintenance on her oughhh I'm sick

ALSOALSO I like rarepairs because whenever I do find content of them it's 10000000x more special if that makes sense :3

[rosykims]

how do you come up with your character backstories? they're all so detailed and well thought out and you always seem to have an abundance of fun and interesting trivia for all your characters as well. would you be willing to give tips to someone who has a hard time coming up with anything beyond like. the basics lol 😔👉👈

WAH THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS 🥺 i always feel a little embarrassed talking abt my ocs because i tend to start and never stop lol, and theyre all very special to me so its a sort of vulnerable extension of myself in a way. even if im only sharing with them with the lovely ppl who live in my phone its always a little stressful, so i really appreciate that they left a good impression!!

as for tips, i just wanna say as a disclaimer that i am very chronically online. ive also had multiple periods of extended free time in which ive been able to really hyperfocus on certain media and the characters i want to create within them. ALSO, a lot of my ocs ive had in development for several years and theyve just evolved naturally. ashara, for example, i made when i was 19, and im 26 now lol. ik this is cliche to hear, but i rly do think its important to go at your own pace when developing characters and do whatever makes YOU happy, before looking to anybody elses ocs , because we all have different lifestyles and creative processes and whatnot ❤️

that being said, i can def share a few things that helped me! firstly, i always start developing characters based solely on vibes and sensory stimuli, so i'd highly recommend making a pinterest moodboard for them and/or a music playlist! pinterest esp, since its such a great way to start brainstorming and getting a visual idea of what you want your character to look like/embody/represent. its a great place for inspiration in general.

secondly, one of the most important steps in developing any character is motivation. what does your oc WANT? why? what would they do to get it? should they get it? would would happen if they got it vs if they didnt? do they ACTUALLY want it or just think they do? answer those questions and you've already got a pretty solid foundation to work with. another really useful piece of advice a friend gave me several years ago was this: "what is something your character believes in at the start of their journey, that they no longer believe by the end of it?" for example, my warden oc elspeth believes in traditional heroics and black-and-white morality. by the end of dao she does not. theres a LOT to explore between point A and point B.

lastly, when i make ocs its very important to me personally that they feel inextricably TIED to the media they belong to. this is completely optional ofc, bc lots of people enjoy characters they can drag and drop into different stories, which is fine! for me though, i like taking cues from the world around them. it makes them feel natural to the plot, the setting, the canon characters, etc, because it helps me pin down some of their more hyperspecific quirks. there are a few ways to go about this.

the easiest way imo is to look at any major Core Issues within whatever media you're working with. like real life, people have OPINIONS about ISSUES and POLITICS lol, and those opinions are usually influenced by their own lived experience or personal belief system. so if you can identify a few key figures, factions or events in your story, and give your character an Opinion or Reaction to those things, it can pretty naturally be evolved into a unique and interesting backstory. to use elspeth as an example again: "elspeth dislikes orlais". thats a political opinion about a faction. and then to expand on why? "because her family/country fought in the occupation and she loves her family/country". from there we learn she's nationalistic and places value of lineage. then you could say — "she enjoys history and geography because it allows her to better appreciate her country. she cares deeply about all ferelden peoples, and has studied techniques from avaar and chasind communities". and you can keep branching out and expanding from there. and once you've exhausted that thread, move on to a diff one! "elspeth is nervous around mages". why? "because her religion tells her to and shes never thought to question it." why? etc etc etc.

alternatively, i find it really helpful to find an overlining theme in the type of media im working with/creating. sometimes its easy (baldurs gate 3 has a confirmed theme of autonomy vs authority, da4 will have a confirmed theme of regret, etc) but if its not as clear cut or your designing your own original world, its fine and great to take your own creative interpretation of things and run with it. for example, origins for me is very reminiscent of loss of innocence and war. inquisition is, to me, about personhood and losing it to your own mythology. once you've got a theme it can really help help translate into a cohesive story you want to tell and a character you want as an outlet. and since the character will be thematiclly relevant, you might also find it easier for them to connect to the cast/setting/story etc.

sorry this is so long, but i hope you gained something out of all this word salad lmao. one more thing i want to mention — its also fine to NOT do any of this. sometimes i get overwhelmed feeling like i have to come up with a unique/multi-faceted character every time i go into characterization, and virtually 100% of the time its Never that deep. if you find yourself getting stressed or overwhelmed, remind yourself that its perfectly fine to dream up a simple and straightforward character who makes you happy, and let the rest come to you as your character goes forth into the story. sometimes simplicity is best because you arent held down by the restrictions you've placed on them yet.

sending love, i hope this helped !!!!!! if you have any more questions or just want to chat, feel free to send another ask or slide into my dms ! ❤️❤️❤️

[cloudcountry]

even though i have no idea what you and your moots are talking about half the time when it comes to the ocean, i just can't help but get excited because its people bonding over their special interest !!! and that just makes me giggle and happy :D i have no knowledge besides the basics about the ocean but id listen to you guys ramble about it to see you guys happy !!!!!

:(((((((((((( CCMERE REMY I LOVE U WTF

idk why but that first sentenvce made me laugh really hard LMAO "i have no idea what you and your moots are talking about half the time when it comes to the ocean" HELP ME

this,,, this actually made me realize that i definitely have found my people because theres so many of my mutuals and followers that read my essays about animals and actually think its cool??? and they ask questions abt teh rambles and about animals they want to hear me talk about??? that makes me feel so special awww

yeah i love my moots tbh they're all so cool for reading all the words i type that probably dont make much sense HELP

let me know if theres any fish you like (please) i would love to talk about them (PLEASE)

also it doesnt stop at marine bio for me, i know i've talked about hyenas before but i actually fixated on like,,,, the savanna for a few months as well so i know a far bit about lions and cheetahs and animals like that too whhehwehweh <33

UR THE BEST REMY THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU MADE ME ALL SAPPY TODAY :(((((((

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

One thing I really enjoyed about p4ga is it's own take on marie's social link and gave her more time interacting with the investigation team and episode 5 gave me a situation that made me think 'YES those two could be friends in the right set of circumstances.

oh yeah i loved marie in p4ga :) i saw so many people shitting on the anime for including her in scenes with the rest of the gang that she isn't in in the game. but like ? if you hate marie Why Are You Watching The Marie Anime. if you want marie to not exist literally just don't do her social link and don't watch the golden anime it's that simple. extra special perks for marie haters is that if you ignore her you literally get to kill her. there are no downsides here for you.

anyway. i love seeing her with the rest of the gang, it makes me so happy to see her included. my favorite interaction was her recording them all and asking about pursuing the truth, and that later being what makes them remember her. it's so good. god, marie is so good. she tries to erase herself from the memories of the investigation team but she can't, she made a real impact on them that can't be erased no matter how hard she tries and that's beautiful.

and marise! i'm going to talk abt them for a bit. :3 i hated how their entire relationship in the game was just 'rise is jealous of marie,' it is a very tired take on relationships between girls and an extension of (imo) rise's misogynistic writing. but! if you interpret it in a specific way, it actually becomes...very interesting.

basically, my older sibling already has a headcanon that rise's flirting with souji is really bad comphet, and rise is a lesbian. and! as someone who has experienced quite a bit of comphet personally, i realized that taking that perspective on rise's jealousy of marie would parallel something i experienced myself. basically, inventing a crush on a guy, and then telling yourself you're jealous of the girl when he gets in a relationship with someone else, but really you're jealous of the guy, bc she's the one you're in love with.

rise likes marie! but she already thinks she has a crush on souji, bc she looks up to him and thinks 'this must be what a crush is' and already is a very flirty girl bc she just enjoys being flirty. so she doesn't know how to recognize that this hatred of marie is misdirected. she's not jealous of marie, she's jealous of souji, and she misdirects that.

marie helping rise write her songs would be!! so cute !!!!! and they're prep x punk, flirty x tsundere !! what's not to love here !!!! i love them and that episode FED me.

[funnywormz]

Well OK what kind of a person would I be if I didn't say 002 rimster for that ask game

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO THANK U ANON

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you...

when i started shipping them:

honestly very very recently lol. i can't remember exactly but i think abt 2-3 months ago? ik their dynamic was definitely entertaining to me from the start and there were moments that made me go like "👀" sometimes (bc im a gayass hopeless romantic so im always kinda subconsciously on the lookout for fun characters to ship ig lol), but i started getting genuinely rlly invested in the ship roughly when i watched dimension jump for the first time. something abt seeing rimmer get so jealous and catty abt lister and ace i suppose.......... hehe

my thoughts

i mean obviously i think they're great lol. i am nuts abt them. they're both such fun characters and their dynamic together is just wonderful and iconic and hilarious. even platonically they're just like...... a duo to me. ik all of the dwarfers are a set (Do Not Separate Them) but lister and rimmer especially just go together. it doesn't feel right to talk abt one without mentioning the other. they're just lister and rimmer yknow......... regardless of whether they're friends or lovers i just love them together and love it when they interact

what makes me happy about them

SO MANY THINGS....... the ship does bring a lot of comfort to me bc despite their arguments and the insults that get thrown around they do really care abt each other and it becomes pretty obvious in later seasons. the opposites attract/sun and moon thing they have going on is so endearing to me as well.......... i get so much serotonin from the little moments of honest affection they have for each other in the show.

i think they can be a source of comfort for each other as well, not always in an obvious way but they just keep each other grounded, they're each a reassuring constant in the other's life yknow? also they're both very relatable to me in their own different ways so i would be lying if i said there wasn't an aspect of projection in it as well lol

what makes me sad about them:

the answer to this one is also Many Things......... sometimes they are genuinely just Mean to each other and it makes me a bit sad. and just. lister's childhood and his loneliness and depression and likewise rimmer's childhood and self hatred...... idk they're just both very saddening guys at times, im not even gonna lie. i wish that they'd both allow themselves to be more vulnerable with each other and more open abt their feelings sometimes but ik there are plenty of reasons why that's hard for them. ig it's more their characters separately that make me sad mostly rather than their relationship with each other though, if that makes sense

things done in fanfic that annoy me:

this is a rlly specific personal pet peeve but i kinda dislike it when ppl rlly exaggerate lister's accent in fic. like when they write his speech out as "rimmah" instead of "rimmer" and that sort of thing lol. it's fine in small amounts or if it's a purely comedic fic but if im reading a more emotionally poignant (or sexy) fic and the author has changed the spelling of every second word lister says i just have to exit outta there sorry. for me i feel like since we all know what he sounds like then trying to write out his pronunciation that way just seems awkward and silly. this is by no means an objective thing just personal preference.

it's also a pet peeve of mine when lister gets kinda sidelined or his characterisation gets messed around with in favour of the author basically using him as a self insert bc they're horny for rimmer. it doesn't come up often but when it does it annoys me......... ik rimmer is everyone's special little boy but i love lister too and i don't like to see him get ignored or undervalued like that

things i look for in fanfic:

honestly just an interesting premise really! basically the stuff i look for in any literature, like strong characterisation, a fun plot etc...........

my wishlist:

idk exactly what this one entails? if it means stuff i wish i could see in the show, ig i'd just like to see more sweet genuine moments between them (like the moonlight scene). idk if i would actually want there to be a canon romantic relationship between them, like yeah i ship them so much but ig i just wouldn't want it to be forced or executed weirdly. basically i just want to see more of them exactly as they are now, except maybe they should be nicer to each other sometimes. OH ALSO i need to see deb and arlene again so fucking bad

who i'd be comfortable with them ending up with, if not each other:

this one is tough bc there honestly aren't many romantic prospects for either of them lol. i def wouldn't be comfortable with a romantic relationship between either of them and any of the other dwarfers, just personal taste. i personally view rimmer as a closeted confused gay man so i wouldn't be that comfy seeing him with a female character either so that rules out pretty much everyone for him haha.........

for lister, although i love kochanski and his friendship with her, i don't like the idea of them being "endgame" bc it would feel forced at this point and just...... uncomfortable. honestly i can't imagine feeling comfortable with any other relationships for rimmer/lister being canon lol. i just prefer the idea of them both being single in canon i suppose, sorry lads. it's funny bc in most fandoms im a chronic multishipper but with red dwarf im kinda like rimster or die basically lmao 🤷‍♂️

my happily ever after for them:

basically just the same as they are now but married and in love LOL.

also they need to finally get a proper bed to sleep in together and get out of those goddamn bunks, 1) because i want them to cuddle and 2) lister is in his 50s now and those bunks can't be very comfortable or ergonomic, i am worried abt the state of his back lol. it's not much, ig in the end i just want them to stay together and be happy together. since there seems to be technology that exists to sustain multiple holograms that they've found on other ships, maybe once lister finally dies they could be holograms together and travel the stars together forever....... or maybe the opposite would happen and rimmer would shut himself off so they can just be at peace together. ough sorry this got sad im getting emotional

anyways tldr i just want them to stay exactly the same but openly in gay love and also sharing a proper actual bed. that's it

[roccinan]

1/n Oof, it sounds lovely to be called the 'hermanos stan' :D It's been nearly 2 years and I still miss them, so it's such a pleasure to talk abt them with you! No, I didn't think you'd heard of it but Cricket as a sport is extremely popular where I'm from, even moreso than Football! You can't really avoid it this time of year which is why I put all my annoyance into Andrés lol. Yeah i agree, I think Sergio looks at it more as a team bonding "exercise" that is helpful even if he doesn't have any great liking for it, and when he watches like he said, he's more interested in rooting for the underdogs. Andrés too is probably just a casual watcher so the idea that they both assumed the other was OBSESSED is hilarious to me, it makes them feel more like real siblings growing up together and trying to find some common ground :')

Hi somerain/royalpaperhouse/my favorite hermanos stan! I'm sorry it took so long to get back to you. It's been a whirlwind of a couple months for me! This string of lovely messages has been sitting in my inbox since. I can't believe it's been nearly 2 years since they entered our lives aaaahhh, but it's been such a pleasure talking to you about them <3 OH, that's cool- cricket being bigger in your country than football is certainly interesting! LOL I get that- I hope you were able to channel your "frustrations" onto Andres XD Agreed haha- Andres just pretends he knows what he's watching while Sergio's only here to see if the underdog team wins, and they're both sitting through all those hours because they've convinced themselves the other is obsessed with football (a role Martin will fulfill in their lives soon LMAO). Ah, I'm glad that hc makes them feel like real siblings bonding!

2/n Your hermanos musings water my crops and butter my bread Rocinan!! Gracias for all your kind words, truly (and yes hehe I wasn't expecting that punch either.... it just happened and I couldn't resist) <3 Right?? I love Serquel and Berlermo too, both ships are very interesting in their own right but something just *hits* different when it's the hermanos. Hermanos redux gives me ALL the feels, I don't think I can ever forget the special mix of heartbreak and heartwarming that au gives me.... Big Brother Sergio and Little Brother Andrés live in my head rent free! Awww I'm so happy I can always pop into your inbox with my rambles <3

That makes me so happy to know! Your remarks and support water my crops too :D Thank you for all your kind words and thank you for that punch- absolute chef's kiss! Exactly!! Serquel and berlermo are great in their own right, but with the hermanos, it's just a different texture TM. AH, I'm so glad hermanos redux continues to give you feels :'D That really means a lot and same here. Big brother Sergio and hermanito Andres will always live in my head. And yes of course!! I may be slow in replying as you can tell :') but you're always welcome to pop in and talk about the hermanos whenever you want!

Oh gosh, I'm touched that my support means so much to you 🥺❤ I can never thank the universe enough for making me stumble onto Dies Irae (yes that's another fic of yours that captured my imagination like nothing else) and I hope you know you deserve every bit of it!! Life's been a little rough but your works have been such a bright spot of light thought it all, even the wacky ones like the Toy Story AU, Your unique and varied ideas never fails to amaze me and I'm so glad to have you in the hermanos corner (and our other pals) too! :D Ugh, r*fael is the Bane of lcdp, asfdfjsk I don't give him the privilege of his full name. He's no Fonollosa/Marquina to me!

It truly does :D As long as you enjoy my hermanos content, then I feel that my mission is complete and I feel motivated to make more! AH thanks for the shoutout to Dies Irae as well- I will always cherish those amazing comments you left on it <3 definitely a fic that's very special to me. Aww I'm glad my stories could help provide some bright spots in your life (hang in there! We're all in the same boat!). LOL Glad even silly things like the Toy Story AU and Cut it Out (thank you so much for those heartwarming comments you left!!) were fun for you :) I'm happy to be in the hermanos corner with you (and the rest of our lcdp pals too)! PLEASE, so true, friend. Who even is Rafael?? certainly no true fonollosa/marquina!

3/n Glad to know you enjoy my rambles lol, and I love your blog too! thank you for welcoming me back :) soooo grateful to have a fellow hermanos stan in you too! Ah, Corners my beloved, it's so special to me as well cause I feel that Andrés is the closest we can ever see of the backstory behind s1-s2 Andrés, the dark and insane and terrifying man he was, like someone mentioned before Part 1 Andrés would shoot spinoff Berlin on sight 😭 They feel like completely different people! You can't convince me that Andrés in his 20s had fricking SPACE SUITS, I definitely feel like if we stick to canon, the true canon of the Initial seasons of lcdp (even upto s3 and the few glimpses of the dark parts of his nature in s4) your headcanons in Corners are much more fitting. They are the Real~ canon to me asdfjsk, and I'm sure andrés would agree!

I absolutely love your rambles :D and you're always welcome, no matter when and where! I'm so grateful to have a fellow stan in you too! Your review on Corners + what you're saying here makes me :') That's literally how I envisioned it too, and why Corners is so special to me despite being such an odd little fic. It was the one (aside from substitution) that built most from the Andres of s1/2, and a part of how I imagined he could become someone as insane and terrifying as Berlin. And YET the spinoff is telling us berlin was just his evil twin or something?? Exactly LMAO what even is with those space suits? At what point did he live in a romcom when the whole point of his character is that his romanticized life only exists in his own head? s3/4 Andres was "softer" but he still had plenty of the darkness and edge that would lean into Berlin. So I'm glad my fic could fill that gap haha and I"m hugely honored you feel this way about it!

n/n LOL My absolutely self indulgent and utopian idea of a Berlin spinoff would just be the extended version of "Hermanito", the hermanos as kids becoming the Professor and Berlin as we know them, but seeing how 2 kids growing up in poverty and illness make it and rooting for them, and maybe even exploring how their different personalities and moralities (!) play off each other, there's so much to think about there. But ofc, what we REALLY need are more rafaels and characters no one cares abt 🙃 Ohh I'm just happy EC fit with your ideas about him and andrés, I would LOVE a hermanos centric event omg, if and when it ever happens!! Thank you for everything again! 💌

I am Honored you think so! And also same haha- if it was up to me, the spinoff would just be "Hermanito" + "Corners" XD asdfasdf now you're just making me mourn what we could have had again!! Exactly, I don't even care if pedro and alvaro played 17yos- it's a far more interesting story to see how and why they became who they are, and yet remained so close despite the differences between them. But nooo, more rafaels and characters nobody asked for lmao The gift more than fit with my ideas :D And I'm so happy you're interested in a hermanos event! We'll definitely keep you posted if it happens- might have to be in 2024 lol, but I'm sure our hermanos gang can figure something out. Thank you again for everything!

[needyclingyperson]

My Husband might not see this , maybe he will but !!! I really love him so much <33 I don't want him to ever leave me I wanna be with him forever !!! I can't even describe how much I want him to stay ... I just want him with me <33 !!! I hate people who get close to him !!!!!!! They get at my nerves at times cause it feels like they're trying to steal him from me >:(( I hate it. BUT ANYWAYS I love my Husband I want him to be a part of my life forever I don't want him gone I hope he realizes how special he is to me...<3 !!

Seriously if I cant have anything I want despite I dont ask for too much at least let me keep him thats all I ask ... I don't ever wanna lose him waahh ;;;;;;;; I'm clingy around him really clingy as much I want to get him away from people .. what if they think badly of me sobs ;;;; WAAH But I want him with me forever , He so perfect and divine ... No wonder people wanna steal him BUT BACK OFF HES MINE >:(( I honestly think they are trying to steal him bc if I noticed something I would think of it weird and if they show any crushing sign around him I will see it .. I mean I'm not sure if it's my delusions or if I overthink a lot I mean I do but like yk.. I could be making up assumptions but I think I'm not making up bc of how they act , what they do around him.. IS JUST SO UGHH.. It irritates me.. I get easily jealous but he still keeps up with me...<33 I love him for that<3333

MAKING THINGS LIKE THIS IS SO FUN BUT DID I ALSO MENTION HE LOOKS CUTE TALKING ABT HIS INTEREST AND BEING AN COMPLETE ENTHUSIASM ABT IT HE AO CUTE I WANT HIM TO ALWAYS TALK HIS INTEREST NO MATTER HOW MUCH HE TALKED TO ME ABT IT SRSLYAHDHHDHR I WANNA KISS HIS CUTE FACE AND KEEP HIM WITH ME FOREVER<333 HE HAVE ALOT OF INTEREST I CAN LIST IT ALL OUT I THINK SOME ARE ASSUMPTIONS !!

CURRENT :

Kaitou Joker ( Most )

Welcome Home : The Puppet Show

Needy Streamer Overload

South Park

Maurie Leblanc Lupin Novels

Vampires

Horrors Story/Games etc

Gore

Gothic Clothing

OTHERS : ( Including Childhood one )

Boboiboy

Beyblade

Yandere Simulator

The Mandela Catalogue

Sally Face

Happy Tree Friends

Gacha

Bungo Stray Dogs

Undertale

Fran bow

Little Misfortune

FNAF ( Security Breach etc )

Lego Monkie Kid

Ejent Ali

Genshin Impact (?)

Cookie Run

Moshi Monsters

My Little Pony

ItsFunneh ( He used to watch them :;33 )

Flamingo

Kubz Scout ( Prefers both Kubz scout and Flamingo More ! )

Days Union

The Smiles Family

g0z ( Circus Myths )

Guest 666

The Mimic

Identity V

Steven Universe (?)

The Amazing World Of Gumball

Spooky Month (He likes it But He also hates it due to reason)

Six the Musical

Hamilton

Liar Liar

Urban Legends

Among Us/hj

DC

Mean girls

Heather The Musical <33

I THINK THATS ALL I KNOW I MEAN SOME IS ASSUMPTIONS

HIS BIRTHDAY IS AT JUNE 15 WHILE OUR ANNIVERSARY AT JUNE 8 2022

DATING FOR 11 MONTHS AND ABT TO HIT 12 MONTHS/1 YEAR<33

HES REALLY PERFECT HONESTLY<333!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCCHHHH<3333

I WANNA STAY WITH HIM FOREVER<33

Hes MY Cute Autistic Hubby and MY Wifey<33

[akaeijis]

brain thoughts... of the day 9/24 and i actually treat tumblr like the blog it is LOL some hetalia brainthoughts and worms if u guys care to know headcanons, ship thoughts, it's mostly usuk and spamano thoughts

i want to write fic i no longer want to work the nonprofit i volunteer at makes me want to die and I'm so stressed out the more i want to ignore that and think of my little guys...

i was writing/reading some usuk last night and i love these two... they're INSANE. in terms of hetalia i obvs like spamano + btt + mediterranean adjacent europe countries the most, but i do like usuk+face sphere a lot as well. but the biggest difference is that alfred & arthur are INSANE and they murder and get turned on by it!!!! and antonio and lovino are lovers and soulmates and they kisskiss bc they're retired (nationverse)

arthur & alfred: burning cigarettes on each other during sex, breaking each other bones, insulting each other antonio and lovino: what should we cook tonight?

anyway, I'm gna post a full thoughts on the fic i was reading last night later BUT if anyone's interested the best usuk fics are 1912 and 1915 by robinrocks. especially 1915 if anyone's interested in how alfred is power hungry + innocent at the same time ("why wouldn't i want power? isn't it natural to want everything in the world?" he asks 100% genuinely) and arthur being a conniving, resentful bitch and it has saturn eating his son themes and it has arthur hating and loving alfred at the same time, jealous and in awe and resentful of how powerful alfred is...... "this is your century after all" robinrocks you are my god....

anyway my point is that even though I'm an antonio, lovino, and company gang, usuk has a special place in my heart bc THEYRE FUCKING CRAZY!!!

and antonio and lovino can also be crazy, but i love thinking of them very... old soul/world romance... and when they are crazy (if nationverse) i like to think of it as they are crazy towards other people. oh Until the Moss Had Reached Our Lips, and Covered Up Our Names is a perfect example of this (the real gangster au)

my point is that arthur and alfred are very insane towards each other, it's full of hatred and anger and resentment but also fondness... it's that they both want to see each other burn but also have an immense love and fondness for each other. power hungry freaks LOL

and antonio and lovino are insane in a way that's like... they'd see the world burn if it meant the other was happy. they're possessive and bitchy and controlling but also codependent and happy and domestic. it's more of an external 'i'd see the world burn to make you happy' vs usuk's 'i want to knifeplay you and then make out with you'

usuk is very new world and spamano is very old world, court politics, tensions of back and forth, love of the beaches and forgoing everything in favor of love <333 usuk is insanity lol

oh since I'm talking abt hetalia ships, i should perhaps talk abt things i like and dislike. loves: spamano & usuk <33 gilbert (just in general LOL idc who he is w) likes: prucan... (i like gilbert :/ and i feel like i find him the most fun to read in prucan fics), aushun (MY WIVES!!), Switzerland meh: fr////uk. i used to be a hater back in the ship wars (ancient look) i don't really care and i think its fun. i just wish both of u guys would stop fighting its not that serious (talking abt shippers). i quite like when francis and arthur are jaded ex lovers LOL, but it does get a bit overused at times. or best frenemies. i used to hate ger///ita but i am quite fond of it nowadays <33 i think they are very cute notp: antonio with anyone but romano. on the contrary, i think it's fun when lovino cucks romano lol (there's a LiveJournal fic somewhere that i read recently like this...) sorry it gives me the shivers anytime i think antonio could ever like anyone but romano (he's possessive, he's one track minded, he's a simple man... that means staying dedicatedly in love with the same man over 500+ years. i was reading some usuk fics where antonio said something bad abt romano and then i cried).

to touch upon why i hate antonio with anyone besides romano and why I'm ok w romano with everyone... like i said i think antonio is possessive, he is crazy, he is simple. romano, i think, is quite free-spirited in a way people don't really get LOL and also he likes attention and also i like knowing romano is a hot commodity (literally)

there was an old blog that described the European countries as bastard princes veying for the hands of retrix mundi (aka Italy aka rome aka romano) and it has haunted me since... if i ever finish my 2016 historical hetalia spamano fic. here's a snippet LOL for those who really care

[szczekaczz]

1, 17, 38!

1. what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

first and most important thing would be learning english at the age 12... because it truly opened so many opportunities it's crazy. being able to access the information from such many international sources and to read the points of view of everyone who too can speak english really broadens your horizons for sure. especially when you're from a rather small country :') not to mention all the books that are either extra expensive to get here or there are simply no translations available..... so yeah learning it so early was literally life-changing

second one.. or rather someone is my philosophy teacher from high school. at that time i saw a lot of myself in him and it gave me a much needed peace of mind that ppl like me can truly live the life that gives them happiness. philosophy was his true life passion and his lectures were filled with so much emotion and excitation, it was really freeing to see him talk so openly about something he loves and being madly respected by us for it. his second love was exactly one particular mountain range which he called his lover and hearing him talk about it too was wonderful... and he loved working with teens and was the most respectful adult towards them i have ever met, plus his honest curiosity towards what we think and wanting to truly understand what we mean were a very good lesson for learning patience and respect for others even if u think at first they're talking bullshit. i could talk abt him for hours so let's just summ up that seeing an adult aspie being happy and content with his life really gives you hope for the future when you're an angsty teen haha

three hmmm the plague dogs. especially the movie because i still can't bring myself to actually read the book ending [*] but the ending is one of the reasons why i find it so important <3 because this book/movie shaped a lot of my art preferences and art is important for me sooo... it has just the right level of anthropomorphication, dogs don't behave like they're literal people put into canine bod, as it sadly feels to me in most of the media, but there's this nice blend of dog and human way of thinking and perceiving the world. very interesting! the characters' relationships, the way snitter's hallucinations are described in the book, voice acting in the movie... and the ending feels like a perfect tragedy for me, meaning that i really can't see their fates ending in any other way they end. and i love a good tragedy haha, all enormously inspiring when it comes to creating my own works too <3

17. name 3 things that make you happy

1 dogs always forever.. my own dog, all the dogs i've ever known and formed a relationship with, learning about them in any way, observing them irl and on the vids other people take and share, talking about them, everything <333

2 birch trees, the amount of happiness i feel each and single time i see them is incomparable ;;❤️ i need to hug a birch really soon or i'll go crazy and i'm not joking

3 nature simply and living in city after many many years by the forest and meadows and in the quiet really made appreciate it even more. i've seen people calling it "small" joys in the "mundane" but for me it's truly big and special. rays of sunlight, the grass, the wind, the animals, everything... anything you can experience with any of your senses. if i had to define the meaning or the sense of my life it's experiencing as much of nature as i can <3 nothing heals more

38. fave song at the moment?

there's even a decent translation, would only change "not so much" into "so little" just for it to sound better, the meaning is the same. it may be corny or whatever, i didn't find such themes very personal in the past but a war in a neighboring country changes many things in one's perception of the world. it somehow comforts me these days :)

[seiwas]

oh my GOD midi 😭 your comments and reactions to this im SOBBING

where do i even begin!!! omg i'll try to respond as orderly as i can!!!

i as well!! am such a sucker for a 5+1 trope 🥺 i feel like i have to do it for each of my faves at some point & was reaaallly looking forward to doing it for col 🥹

and ur reaction photos never not gET TO ME omg they're always so funny i LOVE THEM 🥹

PRE-SCENE

col gojo is truly neck deep in this and there's no escape!!!! (not like he wants to.....) and your prediction!! omg 🤭 kinda true??? wUHWHAUHau

SCENE 1

i looove using the sky to describe gojo's eyes!!! apart from colour, just the fact that it can transition from cloudy to clear, dark to bright leaves so much creative room with it!!

AND THE FLIPPING OVER SCENE OMG writing this scene was a challenge bc i don't normally write action scenes (i focus a lot more on feelings) so figuring out the logistics of how to describe flipping someone over was A Bit. but i'm happy w how it turned out eventually 🥹

am so happy u enjoyed this lil scene!!! honestly i think it might be one of my favourites out of this bunch, just bc i put so much mental effort into it LMAO i'm so glad u caught some of my favourite bits of it too!!

SCENE 2

writing this was so fun omg i think cos writing reader kinda tipsy left a lot of room for them to be more vocal and straightforward abt their feelings 🥺 i think they've always considered gojo's feelings first when talking to him that their own feelings tend to be a bit overshadowed 🥺

and i am SOOOO happy that you felt the yearning in this scene bc i was really trying hard to drive that home 🥺 U CAN REALLY TELL I PUT MY WHOLE SOUL INTO THIS HELP 😭 i think!! bc!! the feeling is too familiar to me and i was figuring out how to convey that!!

the lil lines u noticed too!!! omg those are some of my faves as well i think... aaaah sdhfsdf this scene holds a special place in my heart fr!!

SCENE 3

this one was rlly tough to write!!! i'm not sure why... i think bc the initial outline wasn't how it turned out to be at all!! so i was struggling with the direction of it bUT am so glad u enjoyed it nonetheless 🥺

SCENE 4

pls omg he secretly loves that apron i just knOW it and omg yes megs is rlly only helping bc he loves col reader 🥺 AND THE BROWSER TAB OMG THIS GUY DOESNT GIVE A FLYING FUCK RLLY 😭 he's leaving his laptop out in the open he doesnt CAAAREEE

megs is a menace deep in his core i feel it in my BONES (you drawing them with cutesy headbands would be SOOOO cute 🥺) + your reaction miDI OMG DSBGHSD PLS ICB U HAD TO STAND AND PACE AROUND READING IT 😭 AAAAH UR FRIEND IS SO REALSDABSD it's so interesting!! seeing which parts u liked best omg sdhjbfsd this makes me so happy 🥺

SMACKA SMACKA IM LAUGHIGNSDBASD i wanted to reference stuff from the other col fics and thought this would be neat ! esp since the lingerie fic takes place along this timeframe !!! so having it featured here kind of informs the sequence of events too!! (that the lingerie fic happened before this) and you knoWWWW am not an explicit writer omg but am glad u felt the intimacy in it 🥹 i am slowly !!! warming up to more intimate scenes the more i write it 🥹

SCENE 5

FULL SMACKA SMACKA HELP 😭

and omg that is the sweetest thing u can say abt this scene midi 🥹 thank u sm and am so glad that my kinda nsfw way of writing scenes like this still hits some way 🥹 i get flustered myself when writing intimate scenes like lowkey i feel like i'd have to detach and blackout just to write it explicitly buT YEA 🥹 im so happy u like it!! esp since u do read smut on the regular omg 🥹

SCENE +1

AAAAAHH he really is 🥹 i sometimes worry that bc col isnt a super strict series, more like vignettes of their relationship, that, even if someone can pick this up without the context of the other fics, my characterisation of satoru might be a bit off?? mainly bc i think col satoru atp is a product of how he was in the earlier pieces of col 🥹 and i am soOOOO glad that u've been here to witness his growth from the start!!!

gsdgsdu i reaLLY wanted to write that breakup miscomm bc i think its so siLLy and SO FUNNY dsbfsjadf but AAH am so glad u felt the tension... i was so unsure if it was felt hELp

and to answer your prediction!! of it being a proposal!! i will say!!!! that i turned over the idea in my head quite a few times, and i won't say my current thoughts on the col couple and a marriage proposal just bc it's still open to change for me but!! this is a step towards a kind of permanence—a forever, like you said!! it's not a marriage proposal, but it is a proposal to move in together 🥹 i was just thinking of a way he could say it that felt a bit more weighted!! and less conventional?? bc i do think they're a bit unconventional (esp gojo)

UR REACTION PHOTOS ARE SO CUTE AND I AM BEYOND FLATTERED AND TOUCHED THAT U TOOK THE TIME TO WRITE THIS FR MIDI 😭 i cant even imagine the amt of time it took 😭 i appreciate this and you so much!!!!

TAGS

AAAH to hear that this is ur fave fic so far??? omg 🥹 i was expecting it wouldn't do as well bc the fics i tend to enjoy writing/like don't really end up as people's favourites too!! but i did thoroughly enjoy the pre-writing and writing process for this 🥺 my whole gojussy indeed 🥺

and i translated ur indonesian and omg that'S SO SWEET SJDFBJSD IM so glad the second read is just as good as the first 😭😭 srsly midi i am sososo flattered and this means sososo much ilysm thank u so much AS ALways

₊˚⊹。these traces of love, they outline you | gojo satoru

wc: 12.9k

summary: the 5 times gojo’s sure you’ve changed his life + the 1 time he hopes to change yours. 

contains: f!reader, uses pronoun she, 18+ nsfw (not super explicit but the act is there), vague allusion to symptoms similar to synesthesia, mentions of reader’s cursed technique, sparring, drunk call, use of pet names (cutie, silly, pretty, baby), nervous feelings, tummy ache, food descriptions, surprise appearance of one character, emotional tears!!, internal thoughts and insecurities.

a/n: primarily in gojo's pov! & best read if you’ve gone through the other parts in the series! (there are lots of callbacks and references, and you’ll get better context!), used lots of songs as inspo for this (would gladly share if you’re curious!), food names are in japanese, so i’ll add explanations in the a/n at the bottom!, hope you enjoy! from conceptualisation to actual writing, this piece is my baby!!

collection masterlist: conversations on love +4 (extra). take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) <- you are here

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

Gojo thinks he might pass out. 

There’s a feeling of unease sitting deep in his gut, nervous and gurgling. His hands have always been restless and fidgety but never this sweaty, and his head feels like it’s floating—even more than that first time he attempted a 24-hour stint on keeping up Infinity. 

It’s eerily quiet in his office as he waits for your meeting to end, the white colon on his digital clock taunting him as it flicks on and off—16:27. 3 more minutes until you finish. 

He paces around the room. 

Attempts at any distraction are thwarted when everywhere he looks, he’s reminded of you. There’s a photo hanging by the door, the mix-and-match of couch cushions in varying hues—all souvenirs you’ve given him from places you’ve been to. The coffee table books hold your touch too, and as he runs his hand over his face. he’s hit with that signature scent, clean and subtle from the hand cream you use.

Waiting in his office today has been absolute torture, but what’s made it more excruciating is the fact that he knows you’re aware of absolutely nothing.

To you, this is just like every other Friday. 

You’d done your usual morning routine, kissed him on the nose with the promise to meet him in his office after work, as you always do. And it feels like a big joke when he thinks about it now, because while he’s been on edge this entire day about it, you really have no clue what’s coming. 

To him, this could change everything with you. 

He’s been feeling it for a while now, the ripple effect of loving and being loved by you—how he can recall every time a single drop of you has shifted something deep within him, marked and colored you. 

There’s not a lot that Gojo wants now that he feels like he truly has it all, but when he thinks about all the times he’s sure you’ve changed his life, he hopes that with this one thing, he can change yours. 

.

.

.

1 — UNDER YOUR TOUCH, WHEN IT GETS TOO MUCH

The weather today is good—sunlight peeking behind cloud pillows and the occasional gust of wind passing through the space you’ve put between you and Gojo. It’s neither too humid nor too dry and though Gojo does get the occasional sniffle from his pollen allergies around this time, he woke up earlier completely fine. 

So, the weather today is good, perfect even, for a brush-up on sparring practice. 

You’ve kept a sizable distance away from him since it started, and every attempt he’s made to draw nearer, you’ve only moved away farther—a push-and-pull, an old dynamic that shows itself in the ways you engage in battle.  

Gojo’s hands stay tucked in his pockets, his stance one you know perfectly well as relaxed but still guarded. He’s gotten a lot bulkier than the days you used to spar often, the past few years having filled in all the areas of what used to be slim, lean muscle. He doesn’t move because he knows the style you fight with, how you stay on defense until your opponent charges, utilizing their own strength against them. 

It’s the only way you’ve managed to win against someone as deadly as Gojo, equal-parts lethal in speed and strength. 

So when a cluster of clouds pass by and the sun glares directly into your eyes, Gojo smirks, then bends his knees as he lunges for an attack.

Your senses are sharp and reflexes quick; in the split second that a white-and-black blur appears before you, you attempt a high kick, only for it to be blocked with his forearm. He uses his other hand to twist around your ankle, trying to flip you over, but you see right through his motives. You huff, furrowing your brows as you narrowly escape, slipping your ankle out before he can fully grab a hold of it.

Most of this practice has felt like a stalemate, with the both of you waiting on the other for the most part of the hour. Gojo can see how it’s wearing you down, this entire thing being dragged out, and if he’s being honest—this is exactly what he wants.

Sparring out here with you today, while still meant for actual training, is also just an excuse to do this for old time’s sake—the way you huff and frown, jaw clenched as your fists ball up tightly like you’re doing right now.

He kind of misses seeing you like this, impatient and frustrated, so unlike the tenderness you always regard him with. 

A smile threatens to form on his lips, and he bites it back down. 

You only ever get like this sparring against him. 

The tension breaks when you decidedly throw a punch; it’s a desperate attempt to get the fight moving but he ducks, arm securing itself around your waist as he locks your hip with his. Before you can even comprehend, your body is lifted across his back and lowered down to the grass below—the only thing in sight being two blue skies, beaming at you. 

Somewhere during the commotion, he managed to remove his blindfold, hair let loose, fluffy and white almost like the clouds above you. Gojo isn’t taking this seriously at all; he’s way too soft, having cushioned your fall by carrying most of your weight instead of throwing you down like anyone seriously sparring is supposed to. 

He doesn’t care though. All he really wanted this afternoon was to reminisce with you. 

You’re kept underneath him, one of his arms remains wrapped around your waist while the other cradles the back of your head—and it’s there, that frown on your face, that pout he’s witnessed for years evolve into what it is now. Beads of sweat collect at the crease between your brows, your temples tensing as you breathe out. 

Gojo at 17 would have teased you relentlessly for this, but he feels different now, warmth settling in his chest as he stares; he can’t help it, the words coming out of his mouth—

“You’re so—”

But he doesn’t even get to finish.

Everything around him blurs, green and blue blending in motion before he finds himself on his back, completely flipped over. He’s met with the sight of you, smug smile pulled wide with your hands resting on his chest. And his heart—

Can you feel it under your fingertips? How it’s beating a mile a minute? 

A shiver runs down his spine, the pinpricks of grass tickling the nape of his neck. The shock is tingling, his eyes fully open as he processes what just occurred. 

In the lapse of time he’d been a little too preoccupied staring at you, you managed to inch your leg to wrap around his, locking it at the last minute to flip him over—it lands you where you are now, on his lap, straddling his hips. 

“Sneaky.” he gazes fondly, grin teasing.

You catch your breath, “Do I win?” 

“Only because I let you get too close this time.”

Which is a lie, he knows, because having you near him like this, with some form of touching—you could never be close enough.

You roll your eyes, his fingers grabbing hold of your thighs. The grass pricks at your knees through the fabric of your leggings, and Gojo knows that if you stay like this any longer, it’s going to start to itch.

“Did I hurt you anywhere?” you ask, already assessing him for any point of injury. Your eyes go over his face before trailing down his arms, rarely exposed today in his black compression shirt.

“Yeah,” he pouts, pointing to his lips, all pink and puckered out, “kiss it better?” 

Asking for this is against his better judgment, he’s aware; with the way you’re situated on his lap, this could escalate into something else entirely. You shake your head, swatting at his chest. His grip on your thighs loosens as you get off him, but the curl of your lips is extremely telling. 

As you stand up to dust your knees, Gojo gazes at you fondly. The sun hides behind you from where you tower over him, but the halo effect around your head is just as blinding. 

“Lie down with me,” he pats the space beside him. You quirk your brow but follow anyway. 

He requests, not asks, because the weather today is good, and it’s making him a little bit sentimental, remembering earlier days with you. 

You lie down, positioning your head to align with his. And for a few moments, Gojo doesn’t speak, just looks at you once and smiles before turning to face the sky, hand placed behind his head as he sighs. 

You do the same for a while, this shared silence warm and just right. 

“So rude,” he jokingly tuts, “interrupting me while I was talking earlier…” 

“You shouldn’t have been so distracted then,” you tease back, sneaking a glance only to lock eyes with two skies. 

He wonders if you can tell—how he’s always looking at you in the stolen seconds before you notice him. 

“Well, you shouldn't have been so distracting then,” he holds your gaze. 

It’s incredibly cheesy but a part of you still feels like melting—he sounds so sincere; no lilt, no tease, no Gojo-typical flirting laced into it. 

You scrunch your nose, shifting on your side to face him, the arm used to support your head now resting against your cheek. He follows, taking one last look around him before turning to you. His other hand rests on your hip, fingers splayed out while his thumb draws hearts on fabric. 

You reach for him. 

The gesture is small, just your finger running across his cheek, but it nudges something in him—a memory of you and how you’ve always touched him like this: softly, kindly. 

“Remember when you used to do this?” he takes your hand, long and lithe fingers wrapping around yours as he guides them over his ear. 

Your eyes widen in recognition and he blinks, taking you in as he stares, “Wanna do it now?”

Concern reveals itself in the furrow of your brows, “Is it hurt—”

“No,” he chuckles, already knowing what you’re about to say.

The last time you did this for him, he didn’t even have to ask. One look and you knew—it’d been the night of his final conversation with Suguru. His skull-splitting migraine ensued after bickering with Shoko on what to do with the body. You were there; you heard everything, and when she gave up arguing and left, there was only one thing you could do. 

With his head on your lap by his office couch, you tuned out the sounds. 

He doesn’t prefer you using your cursed technique this way; it takes a considerable amount of your cursed energy to focus its effects solely on another body—and frankly, it’s a waste of time for you to spend all of that on him, at least in his opinion, personally. 

You’d struggled a lot with your technique back in high school, having to learn how to fully manipulate different sonic hues: white noise, brown noise, any and all of it in the entire spectrum. Being able to amplify, distort, reduce, and isolate them into their respective hues covers only the bare minimum when it comes to understanding your technique.

It’s tedious work, and when one of your senses holds so much more power over the others, the information that flows through it can be overwhelming, overloaded even. Sorting through all that noise—he gets it, gets you, and how it must hurt too. 

And yet you, at 17, still figuring out how to grasp it all, came knocking on his door when you noticed he hadn’t come for dinner. Quietly, you placed your hands over his ears and selflessly offered your discomfort for his relief. 

The first time you did this for him, you’d only heard of his migraines from Shoko. You witnessed it yourself when he opened his door and looked so unlike himself: blindfold secured tightly but haphazardly, strands of hair sticking out oddly; his room seemed to be blacked out completely. 

Gojo Satoru is no stranger to sensations beyond what any human should be subjected to, but when you laid your hands on him that day, cursed energy tickling his ears as it flowed through your fingertips—he’d never felt more normal, more human to be able to hear things without conjuring a visual of it. 

It’s almost like you silenced his mind—enough to hear himself, and you, and the buzz of the white noise you’d amplified to flow through him in his blacked out room. 

You’ve gotten a lot better at controlling it now, the task in itself barely causing you any ache or struggle at all. 

“Just like old times,” he nudges you. 

So you keep your hand where he’s left it, covering his ear with your palm as your fingers rest on his temples. Cursed energy flows from your touch, all sounds drowning out. 

He keeps his eyes on yours, watching as your expression shifts with every sonic hue you focus on—an upgrade to your abilities the more you’d gotten the hang of it. 

You concentrate hard for white noise, creating your own mix to emulate radio static, transitioning out to green noise the moment you highlight the sound of birds chirping. Then, you ease it to brown noise, intensifying the soft whistles of the wind to mimic it. 

It’s weird how sentimental he’s been feeling lately—without any trigger or anything, but the more he leans into your palm, the more it gets him thinking. 

Touch had begun as extremely foreign to him—a god revered and valued but never really truly loved, untouchable with infinity, and the pedestal he’s always stood on. 

It was never supposed to be important to him. 

Until you. 

From your kindness that first day, and the many more that followed: of fingers brushing and hand-holding to breaths mingling and bodies moulding, moving—you’ve always touched him in ways no one else has, in places no one’s been able to reach. 

And if it wasn’t important then, completely foreign, it’s important now, so much that he looks for it everywhere, all the time, even. The way you scratch the short bristles of his undercut, fingers dragging down to the nape of his neck; the way you tap his collarbone thrice, run your fingers across his lip, and intertwine your fingers with his at random. 

When Gojo thinks about your touch, he thinks about how gentle it is, with intent and purpose. How it’s always been careful for him but never of him, and that’s made the biggest difference. 

He blinks, and you follow two times, focusing on him. 

All he hears is a heartbeat now, a little too fast to be at rest, but still steady and grounding—

The way he feels when he’s with you. 

Whether it’s his or yours, from your cursed technique or just the blood rushing in his ears, he knows this is pink noise, the one you’d so excitedly shown him when you first mastered it. 

The pink noise that resounded all throughout his twenty-somethings, when he first realized that you meant more to him than what you were. 

.

.

.

2 — WHEN YOU CALL MY NAME

The bed feels cold tonight. 

Gojo’s been staring at the lights on his ceiling for the past 30 minutes, and though his pillow is cool and blanket soft, he’s wide awake—nowhere near falling asleep any time soon. 

He shifts to the side, the space beside him taunting, empty. 

He misses you. 

For the past week, you’ve been off to a much-needed girls trip with Shoko and Utahime. He’d even offered to pay for the entire accommodation—to which you and Utahime declined, while Shoko shrugged, crossing her arms as she snorted, “If he really wants. At least he’s being useful.” 

You’d compromised and agreed that he could pay for an evening out in some nightclub. 

Now, he regrets it. A little bit. Maybe. 

Gojo’s bed is big, a king-size that fits the height of him and all his long limbs, and while it’s comfortable and spacious–supposed good things–he feels anything but comfortable in how spacious and vacant it now feels. 

He turns to the other side, facing his sidetable instead.

The digital clock reads 01:17 and he sighs; you still have a few days left. 

The next time you bring up being away for this long, he’s going with you. Even if he has to spend the entire day on his own, he’ll do it—as long as he gets to end it next to you. 

If he’s really thinking about it, nothing’s stopping him from teleporting there right now. He could hop in quick, give you a hug, hopefully a kiss, and maybe even get lucky if you allow him to steal you for the night. He’ll teleport you right back in the morning and it’ll be like you never left, even. 

He could do it. You can never resist him when he gives you his googly eyes. 

If you’re already back from—

Bzz bzz. His phone vibrates. 

He reaches for it over his night stand, instantly sitting up once he reads that it’s from you—the nickname he just recently changed your contact to. 

(It was always just your name, simple and straightforward, easy to find; when you return, he’s probably going to change it back because you prefer it that way—for safety purposes and everything.

But while he still can, he’s going to keep it like this: a petname with an obnoxious string of emojis that he associates with you).

1:20 a.m. 

cutie 💞🥺☁️🌸✨

> satoourur are u awaeke??

The corner of his lips curl up, endeared at the image of you hunched over your phone, fingers slipping as you clumsily press the wrong letters. So cute. 

1:21 a.m.

< yes cutie? ( ˘ ³˘) 💕

1:21 a.m. 

cutie 💞🥺☁️🌸✨

> casll?

He stares at it for a good minute or two, trying to decipher this rare, drunken code from you. But before he gets the chance to respond, your face appears on his screen, a photo of you he’d taken months ago, mid-chew special Daifuku.

You’re calling. 

He grins, biting his lower lip. His feet slip inside the house slippers by the side of his bed as he gets up, swiping his phone to answer before holding it against his ear. 

“Miss me already?” he teases, padding out of his bedroom.

“Satoruuu,” you drawl. Definitely drunk, if not tipsy.

Even like this though, Gojo aches when he hears you speak; there’s a twinge that pokes at his ribcage, making him wish he was right next to you.

The music around you sounds muffled, almost as if you’d stepped out just to make this call—another thought that makes him ache.

He walks down the hall towards his kitchen and stops, realizing: if you stepped out of the club, does this mean you’re alone? He trusts you can take care of yourself, but if you’re this inebriated…

“Are you with Shoko and Utahime?” he asks casually, attempting to mask his worry. His hand digs deeper into his pocket, shifting his weight to his other foot. 

“‘Nside.” you slur. 

You don’t actually sound that drunk, more sleepy if anything, really, but his heart still picks up pace. Maybe he should just go to you already. 

“You should go to them,” he urges, continuing his walk to the kitchen. 

“M’be later,” you sigh, and he hears a bit of rustling on your end—a soft curse and a small thud, “w’na talk t’you.” 

Another ache. 

He can picture it: you, in some sidestreet, phone clutched to your ear as you tuck your hair back before sighing, legs buckling as you clumsily drop down to sit. 

“Oh?” he lilts, eyebrow lifting. A smirk forms on his lips, head tilting as he wedges his phone between his neck and shoulder. He reaches for his refrigerator, “Got something to tell me, pretty?”

He doesn’t really know what he’s expecting you to say, maybe a recount of your day, or something funny that he’s bound to laugh at, whatever it is. 

“Just miss you.” 

He wasn’t expecting you to say this—

—in an exhale, with a slight tremble, like it’s been waiting to be let out. Vulnerable. 

There’s another ache, and he nearly drops the water bottle.

He should really just go to you.

His phone nearly slips from his neck, the thump of his heartbeat on rampage as he readjusts it.

He swallows, “I miss you too.” 

And it’s odd, how it sounds when he says it, a bit shaky too. A stillness settles in the room and it echoes off every kitchen equipment and countertop. He can’t even get himself to tease you for this one. 

“I can go there now, if you want.” he offers, almost a whisper, before attempting a chuckle. It comes out flat, tinted a little sad, “Blink twice and I’ll be there when you open your eyes.”

You giggle on the other end, and it fills him in this moment. 

When he looks around his apartment now, steel finish and walls accented black, the backsplash of his kitchen a grayish hue of iron—it reminds him of luxury fit for a bachelor, sleek in its utility. 

He’s lived here since his mid-twenties, and he likes how it’s designed, the colors and feel of it right up his alley. The furniture remains simple, modern and minimalist, filling the spaces of his open floor plan down to the two bedrooms and office space. 

But right now, it feels so empty. 

“Silly,” you chuckle, he can hear your grin forming, affection dripping, “my silly baby.”

Now his heart really aches. 

The subtle static makes you sound unreal, strung together by radio waves; it’s rare enough for you to call him ‘baby’, and for you to say it when he can’t even see or hold you while you do it—it’s cruel; a test of his restraint. 

He rests his back against the kitchen counter, arm coming across his chest to rest under his elbow, supporting the one holding his phone–you–by his ear. His teasing is softer tonight, tinged by yearning, so he hums, “Your silly baby, huh? Any chance it could be your silly ‘Toru instead?” 

The way he says ‘‘Toru’ is a pitch lower, slower, and exaggeratingly more seductive in his banter; it’s what you call him in bed, or by accident, and in the moments you find yourself needing him in ways he can only satisfy by being your lover. 

If you say it, he’s definitely going to teleport himself over. 

You giggle again. 

“S’that your fav’rite one?” you mumble, words blending together. He can imagine your cheek smushed against your knee, arms curled around your legs as you sit on concrete, “‘‘Toru?’” 

When he thinks about it, you aren’t too big on his nicknames—at least, not as much as he is with you. You only call him three things: baby (which truthfully, he had to convince you to), ‘Toru (first whispered in the moment, heat fueling it), and Satoru (since you were 16, weighted and grounding throughout all the years you’ve known him). 

Is ‘‘Toru’ his favorite? 

For obvious reasons, maybe.

But—

“I like everything you call me,” he smirks, shifting his weight. 

“Sweet-talker.” 

He closes his eyes, head tilting back as he leans further—and he swears, he can see you, the image of you rolling your eyes and scrunching your nose seared into his eyelids. 

God damn, he really misses you.

“You love it,” he murmurs.

A beat. He hears the faint honk of a car before you drown it out, sighing. 

“I do,” you whisper, admittance ringing in his ears, “I love you, Satoru.” 

He hears this all the time, but tonight it just aches; the way you say things so sincerely, so honestly even in an inebriated state—how you call him Satoru and it’s still weighted, still grounding, like who he is resides right there, in the softness of your lips. 

Gojo’s always been relevant but when you call him Satoru, he feels more than just the name.

If you’re asking about his favorite, he thinks this might be it—in every handwritten note you leave, his name scrawled in your hybrid of semi-print-semi-cursive letters; in every call you pick up, opening always with a ‘Satoru?’, end pitched higher, sweet and curious. 

“C’n I tell you somethin’?” you ask (even when you don’t need to, even when he’s already listening). 

“Let me guess, Utahime has a travel ick and Shoko—”

“Satoru.” you scold, rolling your eyes, but there’s no bite. The next bit you say under your breath, a little fragile, “‘M serious.”

The nervousness sits in his stomach; this conversation feels significant.

He takes a seat on his barstool. 

“Listening.” 

For a while, it’s only your breathing; knowing you, you’re probably thinking, crafting what to say carefully. 

You sigh again, and—

“I worry sometimes,” you admit.

He furrows his brows, “About?”

“That maybe bein’ with me’s a lil’ boring?”

And this… this aches in a different way. 

How can you even think that? 

You chuckle anxiously; he can bet you’re biting your lips, a habit you’ve picked up from him. 

He rests an elbow on his kitchen island, leaning onto it as he tilts his phone closer to his ear. 

“Apologize right now,” he commands, sternness making him feel a little guilty, “that’s the person I love you’re slandering.” 

But you only laugh, real and more relaxed, nervousness dissipating. 

“My bad, my bad,” you play along before mumbling, “‘m just sayin’, there’re lotsa others who are more everythin’ y’know?” 

He wonders what’s got you thinking like this, if it’s triggered by seeing people at the club, perhaps younger and far livelier—how you spent those years of your life exorcizing curses and making a home for two kids. 

“So what? They’re still not you.”

And he means it, genuinely.

Your breath hitches and he grins, swinging around on the bar stool. 

Those years of youth were still fun, he thinks, and it’s precisely because of you—how you’d made the apartment the four of you stayed in as fun and homely as a teen barely pushing twenty could.

You had your fair share of mishaps and adventures—rushed breakfasts and Megumi’s ‘my dog ate my homework’s. Tsumiki had to miss a day of school once because you accidentally booked her a birthday gift trip to Disneyland on a weekday. 

(And he got scolded a lot, ‘Satoru’ exhaled with a look. But it would only last a few moments; you can never stay mad at him, no matter how hard you try). 

There was no way you and Gojo had the maturity and responsibility of actual parents (maybe more like inexperienced guardians, really), but you tried your hardest to give Megumi and Tsumiki a home. 

Home, what he’s beginning to realize reminds him of you.

He looks around him now, at the details of his interior, and begins to think of yours—your apartment, a little more wooden and lived-in; there’s a lot more wear but also a lot more love, never empty like his feels right now. 

“If being with you was so boring, I wouldn’t be itching to go to you right now.” he confesses, fiddling with the string of his sweatpants. 

You laugh again before it falls into comfortable silence. 

Muffled conversations and the occasional beep sound in your background. There’s a couple giggling around you and he thinks that could be the two of you—if only he were with you. 

“Satoru,” you call him softly. 

He hums, letting it sink in—the way you say his name, distinct in how you stress his consonants despite the softness around his vowels.

When you say ‘Satoru’, it always feels targeted, speaking straight to who he is. 

“‘M so happy it’s you,” you whisper shyly, but it’s bright—unmistakably smiling, the visual of your eyes crinkling. 

He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, drunken affection and vulnerable confessions, but there’s that ache again, and all he wants to do is go to you, hold you. Be with you. 

For a while, Gojo’s been resigned to the fact that there are some things he can’t give you: how you’ll never know true peace because he’ll always be linked to jujutsu society; how choosing him means choosing the tumultuous, the unpredictable. 

And while you’ve already told him that you prefer this life with him better, for you to say you’re happy, that it’s him—

He’s thankful it’s you, too. 

Tears collect at his lash line, pools of gratitude, “I love you.”

“Hmm? you’re coverin’ the mic w’your double-chin,” you joke, just to hear him say it again, he knows. 

(There’s no way he has a double-chin from how you complain about his jawline being too sharp all the time). 

“I love you.” he repeats, louder, steadier, pressing it into his phone’s microphone. 

He’ll repeat it again as many times as you want him to. 

You giggle and he echoes it—like that couple from earlier, your own version. 

The clock reads 02:47, and he normally doesn’t like being up this late, barely getting enough sleep as is. But if you’re the reason why, he doesn’t mind staying awake.  

.

.

.

3 — TUCKED IN BED, WHEN I LIE CORRECTED

“Satoru, you can’t keep eating sweets on an empty stomach.”

He turns beside you, the dull rumbling of the Shinkansen hardly masking how loudly he asks, “Why not?” 

An old man seated across the aisle looks your way, grumpy by the folds between his brows—as if he’d been woken up by Gojo’s whining. You bow your head slightly in apology. 

It’s been an early day so far, with you and Gojo catching the first train out from Kyoto to Tokyo. Departing at 06:14 doesn’t exactly leave room for food stops, so all you have are the two water bottles handed out from yesterday’s meeting and a pack of (now) half-eaten Hi-Chew that Gojo picked up from the convenience store last night. 

“You’ll get a stomach ache.” you whisper, with emphasis. 

He fiddles with the stick of Hi-Chew, tossing it between his fingers before popping one piece out. 

The seats in the Shinkansen are spacious enough for Gojo to stretch his long, gangly legs, but despite all the free room in your row, he’s chosen to encroach on your space, sticking to you shoulder-to-shoulder. 

“Nonsense,” he tilts his face, sunglasses sliding a few centimeters down the bridge of his nose, “I do this all the time.” 

And his eye, clear and bright blue amidst the morning haze zipping past the windows of the train, winks at you. 

Heat warms your cheeks; it’s too early for this. 

The moment you look away, hiding your smile, he knows he’s got you. 

. 

Or not. 

Because you seem to have gotten him—

—tucked in bed, nursing this stomach ache that could have been avoided if he just listened. 

To be fair, he does do it all the time: a few candies, sometimes gummies first thing in the morning, last thing at night. So he’s right, it’s nonsense; he probably got this from something else. 

(Even when you’d both eaten the same meals—how you always order to share because you like tasting a little bit of everything). 

Which is why, you insist it’s from the sweets, his beloved Hi-Chew to be specific. And though he wants to, he can’t argue much when he’s curled into a fetal position, clutching his stomach while writhing in bed. 

“I made you tea,” you stand by your bedside, holding out your mug—small cereals patterned all over it. 

He opens an eye, hair mussed up from all his squirming. The pain in his stomach is radiating, a knot that tightens in waves; this is different from the twist-y pop-y sparks of jealousy, and is nothing compared to the sting of multiple slashes. 

Still, it’s a pain he doesn’t understand: a mixture of feeling gassy and bloated, like he needs to run to the toilet only for it to turn out futile. What makes it worse is that when he catches a glimpse of you, a lock of hair perfectly out of place, the sensation in his stomach intensifies—like butterflies flapping (or maybe just another wave of radiating pain). 

“S’hot,” he grumbles, half of his face mushed into the pillow.

The mug in your hand is piping hot, steam lifting from it, and Gojo doesn’t like drinking hot things; he’s burnt his tongue enough times on hot chocolate that he swears any hot liquid is out to get him.

But you don’t know that about him—he’s never told you, he thinks. 

You take a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“That’s kind of the point, baby.” you chuckle, tone doting with a hint of pity, “It has to be.” 

Your hand rests on his thigh, attempting to soothe him. He catches your eye and whines. 

“If I blow on it, will you drink?” you plead, “Please?”

At this point, he doesn’t know what hurts more: this stupid stomach ache or how nice you’re being. 

You could have said ‘I told you so’ the moment his stomach started gurgling when you both arrived in Tokyo—but you didn’t. Instead, you asked him what exactly he was feeling and had him change into his pajamas as you nursed him to bed. Then, you cooked him real food, a bowl of Okayu for his stomach to digest something plain and non-irritable. 

You haven’t stopped moving since you both got back from Kyoto, unpacking both your things while simultaneously darting in and out your bedroom, checking in.  

How you speak to him is so gentle, caring, doting—even when you have every right to hold it against him. 

He pushes himself up, leaning back on the headrest. You smile, lovely, and beautiful, and every bit healing that it eases the pain a little, somehow. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you blow on his tea, scooting closer.

A gurgling sound comes from his stomach again, but it’s manageable, and he bears it as he takes you in—how you’ve barely had the time to change out of your clothes since this morning. You’re tired, he’s sure, but you don’t mention it as you take care of him. 

The bed as you draw nearer, bringing the mug to his lips—he’s a grown man and he can definitely do this on his own, but you always take such good care of him. 

Who is he to say no?  

Sips of peppermint coat his tongue, warm as it eases down his throat. He wraps his fingers around yours, drinking a third of the mug before urging you to set it down. 

“I’ll heat up a hot compress,” you motion to get up, placing the mug by your bedside. 

He stops you, grip loose on your wrist. 

“Have you eaten?” 

You stare at him, a little surprised, but you nod.

“Just stay with me, then. Don’t need that thing.” 

Your brows furrow, pouting, “But it’ll help,” 

“Hug me instead,” his fingers play with yours, intertwining, “or I’ll hug you. Either.” 

You shoot him a look, disbelieving, but he musters up a wink, for you, despite the new wave of pain arising. 

“Okay,” you sigh, knowing you can’t exactly argue. As you get up, you land a kiss on top of his head, rubbing his knuckles as you get ready for bed. 

When you come back, dressed in your pajamas, he’s turned to his side, lifting the comforter to welcome you in. You lie face-to-face with him, his arm reaching out to rest on your lower back, pushing you closer. 

“You sure this is enough?” you whisper, breath tickling his chin. 

“Mm, yeah,” he hums, hugging you tighter as he grins, “you’re hot.” 

You hit his arm lightly, and he chuckles.

It turns quiet, then he shifts, resting his forehead against yours. White strands, as pale as your pillowcases tickle your eyes. 

He nuzzles your nose, hiking your leg up to rest on his hip while slotting his leg between your thighs—like a pretzel, twisted into each other tight. 

“You’re too good to me.” 

He’s said this before, and no matter how much you say it isn’t true—he’ll always think it, believe it. 

You frown, gripping his waist, “I don’t like seeing you in pain, you know.” 

And he thinks you’ve always been like this: hands outstretched farther than his, offering yourself to help carry whatever pain, struggle, or burden you can. You cry for the sadness others feel, share the hurt of anyone who needs it. You’re the pillar, the support for everyone around you—from Yuuji, Megumi, and Tsumiki all the way back to Utahime, Suguru, and Nanami. 

You’ve always been this way, ever since he met you. 

“Does it still hurt?” you mutter, concerned, fingers grazing his stomach. 

It does and it doesn’t—the pain is unfamiliar but he can take it, having gone through far worse. If he’s being really honest, a part of him just likes being babied by you. 

“Better,” he inches back a little, lips curling into mischief, “would definitely go away with some Hi-Chew.” 

You shoot him a look, then pout. 

“Satoru.” 

He figures there are still a few things you don’t know about him: how he really dislikes hot drinks, how discomfort turns him into a whiney, needy baby, and how he remains incredibly stubborn, maintaining what he stands for (but maybe you know this already). 

“Hey, you should be thanking my Hi-Chew’s. It helps with energy when we fu—” 

You swat at his chest in hopes of shutting him up.

He clears his throat, correcting himself instead, “—make love.” 

This is hardly the time or situation to be talking about the other things you do on your bed, given that he’s been out of commission, curled in on himself the entire day on it. But you sigh, resting your palm on his cheek. 

He turns to peck your wrist, hand coming up to cover yours.

“Just because you were fine doing it before, doesn’t mean you always will be.” you whisper, rubbing your thumb across his cheekbone. 

And Gojo thinks he’s right most of the time, if not all the time, but—

“We’re not old, but we aren’t as young as we used to be, you know? Have to take better care of ourselves now…” you continue.

—when you talk to him like this, you humble him. Immensely. 

He’s always known that if he were to give in to anyone, it’d be to you. 

Things are different now, he knows; his considerations have changed too—like how to lay the foundations of a new, ideal jujutsu society, with all the political and diplomatic gymnastics he knows is necessary; what to do with all this downtime, with all this life and no more death looming overhead; there’s also you, where this relationship is headed, what he plans to do. 

“What will I tell everyone when the love of my life, Gojo Satoru, the strongest, gets knocked out by sweets?” 

Then you joke around like this so casually, kissing his nose and calling him the love of your life like it doesn’t bear commitment that spans your–his–entire lifetime—it shakes him a little. 

He holds his breath, eyes staring at yours. You seem completely unfazed—a slip of the tongue maybe, so he lets it go. 

“Okay, okay,” he pinches your nose as you scrunch it, “I’ll try, but no promises.” 

You kiss his wrist in return—the softness of your lips always turning him a little delirious when he feels it. He pulls you closer to his chest, palm pressed to the back of your head as his other arm wraps around you, squeezing you tighter. 

“But don’t complain if I only last one rou—” 

He gets kicked in the thigh. 

.

.

.

4 — WHEN IT'S YOUR WAY OR DOWN THE DRAIN

There’s the right way, then there’s the Gojo way. 

Sometimes there’s an overlap, but most times he’s just unorthodox. Gojo’s always had his own way of doing things, but now, he’s throwing all that down the drain in lieu of doing things your way (which in this case, he’s decided is the right way). 

Between the two of you, you’re definitely better at cooking. 

He isn’t inept at it per se; all these years, he’s managed to get by. It’s just that, he’s only ever made quick, simple things—barely having the time or need to make things on his own when you seem to have an extra plate on standby.

Long cooks like this, for real, big meals aren’t his forte at all. 

This is the fullest his kitchen has ever been, a trip to the grocery store producing bags overflowing with the ingredients he needs. He tightens his apron (yours, actually) by his waist, pale pink a stark contrast to his black shirt and gray lounge pants. It’s tiny on him, barely fitting, but it covers enough to (hopefully) save him from any mishaps. 

With all the ingredients lined up on his kitchen counter, he stares, hands on hips as he contemplates where to begin. 

You’ve mentioned before how his kitchen is every cook’s dream: complete equipment, all high-grade with steel surfaces for easy wipe downs and more than enough real estate to move around. It’s a shame he’s barely used it over the years, either too busy out on missions or lately, too often staying at yours.

The unease makes him fidgety.

There’s an air of confidence that normally surrounds Gojo in everything he does, but it wavers just a bit with this one. 

He has to get this right. 

It’s your anniversary—the third (officially), but the number doesn’t matter as much when the years have always blurred the lines of what you are to each other. 

The past two celebrations were cute and fun, adventurous in how you’d spent the first one on a trail date up north, and the second one fruit picking in a farm, just west of Tokyo—things you’d both done for the first time, together. Now, there’s added pressure because this is your thing; everything on the menu for tonight’s home cooked dinner is based on your recipes. 

You know all of this by heart. And though he’s aware he doesn’t have to impress you, he wants to. 

He glances at the clock: 15:05 in white, 4 hours until you arrive. The table hasn’t been set up yet and he’s barely dressed, an array of ingredients on the table waiting to be transformed into four of your recipes he plans to attempt. 

Gojo is no quitter, but it’d be stupid of him to underestimate how fast time flies. 

He pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contact list—then he shoots a text, pocketing the device as soon as he hits send.

.

In the amount of time between asking for help and said help standing outside his door, ringing the doorbell, Gojo’s managed to do most of the prepwork: slice all the vegetables, set the rice cooker, and mix together all the sauces and glazes so he can set them aside for later. 

“Just type it!” he shouts from the kitchen.

Four beeps sound from the door, a soft woosh following as it opens. Help enters in the form of spiky hair and a deadpan gaze, putting on house slippers by the genkan as he drags his feet to the kitchen counter. 

“Megumi!” 

The younger boy sighs, tucking his hands into the pockets of his joggers, long sleeves wrinkling higher. “Why did you call me?” 

“Oh!” Gojo claps his hands together, “I need your help.” 

Megumi looks him over, eyes zeroing in on the pink apron, then the bowls of sauces and chopped vegetables in front of him. The rice cooker is steaming beside the sink while empty pots and pans line the burners of the stove. 

“With cooking?” Megumi shifts his attention back to Gojo as the older male nods. He mumbles, “You made it sound like an emergency.”

(“Come here now.” in proper punctuation, lacking any of his usual emoticons—only ever being used in the most dire situations).

Gojo furrows his brows, “It is!” 

Megumi stares. 

“Anniversaries are emergencies.” Gojo stares back, holding the silence for a few seconds before he continues, demeanor turned serious, “Think of it as doing this for your Sensei, not me.” 

There’s a crack in Megumi’s resolve that Gojo knows only appears when it comes to you; a soft spot that exists because you’ve always been closer, warmer—an accumulation of all the times you were adamant on being present because the kids deserved someone there, especially when he couldn’t be. 

Megumi sighs, resigned, as he pushes up his sleeves, trudging over to the sink. He turns on the tap, soaping his hands until it suds, “You should have asked Itadori.”

“Yuuji wouldn’t know how it’s supposed to taste though.” 

“Sensei’s recipes?”

Gojo nods, fanning out pieces of paper from the recipe folder you keep in your kitchen drawer, “Your favorites.”

Megumi scrunches his nose, embarrassed as pink tints the tips of his ears. 

His relationship with Megumi has always been a bit weird, a not-quite-parent-maybe-kind-of-distant-guardian-and-good-but-annoying-mentor-slash-benefactor kind of weird. And he’s sure that the boy isn’t too fond of the idea that he knows small, seemingly trivial things about him like his favorite food, but if there’s anything they can settle on, it’s definitely love for you. 

“Do you have another one?” Megumi turns to Gojo, pointing to the hair band pushing back his hair. 

.

There’s a different kind of care in cooking that he’s now realizing, coming face-to-face with the pot of dashi he’s just started boiling—a patience that comes with waiting and an efficiency meant for multi-tasking.

During the 30 minutes of soaking the kombu, they split tasks: Gojo takes duty rolling the Temaki on his own, while Megumi seasons the Wagyu and prepares the Sunomono. It’s not long before Megumi is directed to setting up the table as Gojo focuses on the Miso Soup. 

There’s a reference photo, some picture he pulled online. The gray plates and silverware on his dining table match the iron-hued backsplash and steel surfaces of his kitchen, sleek but softened by the vase of red and white camellias from the florist you frequent. 

Megumi doesn’t say anything, frankly because he’s gotten used to walking in on Gojo searching up these things: a youtube video of trail dates and articles of ‘the top 10 best farms for fruit picking’. There was also that time he found Gojo’s browser open on a catalog of lingerie.

(Megumi’s been trying really hard to forget that). 

These aren’t things Gojo’s done before, much less thought of—romance and all. 

But he admits, it’s hard work, wiping off the sweat on his brow caused by the heat from the stove. 

“Why,” Megumi sighs, “Why are you cooking anyway?” He mumbles, adjusting the silverware on the table, “Couldn’t you just reserve some place?”

Most of the cook has been silent, with Gojo too focused and Megumi barely saying a word. So while adding the katsuobushi after the kombu boils, the older male answers. 

“I would have, but she said she wanted to stay home,” he turns away from the pot, leaving the katsuobushi to soak as he shrugs. 

Megumi snorts, straightening out the black tablecloth, “Don’t you have anywhere you want to go?” 

It’s a simple question. Innocent. 

But it hits him then, how what you say follows; how ‘anywhere he wants to go’ is wherever you are, how he’s choosing to cook this meal for you instead of just ordering in—-how he’s now considering you, in everything.

This isn’t his strong suit, far from it, really, but because he’s thinking of what you want—suddenly he’s domesticated, cooking for you in hopes of romancing you (even though he already has you).   

You come first now, and he finds that he doesn’t mind. 

He turns back to the stove, straining the soup through a fine-mesh sieve before adding miso paste, dissolving it into the dashi.

“I guess not.” 

The thought stays with him, even as he drops in the tofu, dried wakame seaweed, and green onion. Even as he waits for it to finish cooking, moving the pot atop a different burner while grabbing a spoon to dip in it. 

“Megumi, come taste,” he calls behind him. 

And when the boy sidles up next to him, he feels nervous, fingers trembling as he hands over the spoonful of Miso Soup. He stares at Megumi, eyes wide open, anticipating. 

The boy arches an eyebrow as he takes the spoon, blowing on it gently. He takes a small sip.

“I added less salt because—” Gojo speaks up, a bit panicked, fingers scratching at his nail beds. 

“She’ll like anything you make, even if it tastes bad.”

Gojo’s brows furrow, “Are you saying it’s bad?” 

“Or bland.” Megumi adds, smacking his lips. 

“So it’s bland?”

The horror on Gojo’s face is laughable, but Megumi continues, deadpan. 

“No, it’s okay.” 

Gojo sighs in relief, then pouts, “Don’t mess with me like that.” 

“I don’t.” Megumi sets the spoon down, walking back to the dining table to finish setting up. 

The 18:03 on his digital clock flickers, and the rest cook continues: he heats up the skillet to cook the Wagyu—Matsusaka Beef, grade A-5, heavily marbled, meant to be tender and sweet. Some oil is drizzled onto the pan before cloves of chopped garlic are thrown in, followed by the beef, cut into bite-sized pieces. He adds a bit of soy sauce and red wine, to draw out the sweetness (or so he’s read), then finishes it up by plating it. 

And, there really is a different kind of care in cooking, he’s now realizing; how, when he stares at what he’s cooked in the past hour, he’s thought of you through it all—your preferences, the way you make things. How big meals aren’t his forte, but for you, he tries anyway. 

“Do you need me to do anything else?” Megumi asks, adjusting the camellias in the vase one last time. He takes off his hair band and ruffles his hair, hands tucking inside his pockets immediately after. 

Gojo looks up from the spread of food on the kitchen counter, motioning for the boy to come closer, “Taste test everything with me.”

Lined up are a plate of Temaki, a wooden board of Wagyu, a plate of Sunomono, and a bowl of Miso Soup. For every bite he takes, Megumi follows. And honestly? He thinks everything tastes… okay. 

The Temaki bursts with the sweet umaminess of buttery salmon dotted with ikura, the yellow daikon pickles adding a tart balance that complements the salmon well by simultaneously being sweet and salty. The avocado adds extra creaminess, while the cucumber and corn provide a freshness that lifts everything else. For some added decoration, he uses radish sprouts to mimic leaves on the filler plants of bouquets—-the main reason he chose to make this: it looks like the bundles of flower arrangements you keep on your desk. What ties everything together though, is the crunchy, crispy texture of the nori, giving contrast to the creaminess it holds inside. 

There’s a reason why Wagyu is so expensive, and it’s being told in the way it melts into his mouth right now, sweet and tender. He paid a pretty penny for this, but it’s worth it because he can’t wait for your reaction. 

The Sunomono is meant to be a palate cleanser—with sesame seeds sprinkled on it, mild and sweet, while wakame seaweed and cucumbers serve as the base ingredients. The sauce is meant to be light, just a mixture of rice vinegar and soy sauce, seasoned to taste—and maybe his is a little lackluster compared to yours, but he swears you have some form of magic when it comes to cooking. 

After each bite, Gojo looks at Megumi for his reaction—but the boy gives nothing away, face blank and devoid of any emotion. None of them are as good as yours, definitely, but for his first shot at this, they aren’t too bad. He’d pat himself on the back for it. 

“They don’t go together.” Megumi regards the entire spread with his chopsticks. 

All his hard work? Shattered. 

Gojo is dumbfounded. 

It’s too late to change everything now. 

Should he just scrap everything and order takeout? 

“But they’re not bad.” Megumi continues, washing his chopsticks by the sink before heading for the bathroom to change out of the house clothes he’d borrowed because there were no more aprons. 

When he emerges, long sleeves and joggers, he asks one last time if that’s all he needs to do, taking Gojo’s nods as a sign to take his leave. The older male remains rooted behind his kitchen counter, frozen from the crisis he’s facing.  

. 

You arrive a little later (thankfully), giving Gojo enough time to figure out this whole debacle. He’s ultimately decided to feel around for how the night goes, then he’ll act accordingly—if you show any sign that you aren’t happy, he has the delivery app ready. 

He dresses in simple slacks and a white button down, fiddling with how he’s rolled it up; the thought of you finally seeing everything he’s prepared for tonight makes him nervous—the table set-up, the ambiance, the food.

(He’s even cleaned up his bedroom).

Then he senses it, faint traces of your cursed energy by the door, and he holds his breath. The beeps on his lock count down the seconds to your entrance; and when he sees you come in, surprised and so amazed at the entire thing, the tightness in his chest eases up immensely. 

All he told you was to wear something nice. 

And, by god you did. 

You walk up to him, pretty and smiling in the simple dress you’d opted for tonight—a midi slip-on with a cardigan thrown on top. Black has always looked good on you, uniform or not, ever since up to now. 

But in white, you’re radiant. Glowing. 

He reaches for you. 

The grin on his face is lovesick as he grabs a hold of your waist. You instantly tiptoe up to kiss him, hands on his shoulders as you land a soft peck that transfers a light sheen of lip gloss onto his lips. The view behind him shows the table set-up, a pop of white and red amidst all the food he’s prepared for tonight. 

Your eyes widen, gasping, “Did you make all of that?” 

He nods, pulling away from you as he grins cockingly, “Call me chef.” 

But he immediately bites his lips, restless as he shifts his weight. He hopes you don’t notice how nervous he is—if you weren’t able to tell from his heartbeat, pressed against his chest. 

“You didn’t have to,” you pout at him, eyes watery as you swipe your thumb across his lips, wiping off the residue of your lipgloss. 

“Guess I’ll just undo everything then.” he chuckles, hands sliding lower to rest on your lower back, fingers tapping against silk. 

You roll your eyes, and before his hands get the chance to grab you lower, you’re whisking him away, holding his hand as you lead him to the dining table.

He pulls out your chair and you sit, the rare gesture making you giggle. As he settles in the seat across you, there’s a disconnect between the expression on his face and his body language—eyebrows wiggling and lips smirking, meant to be lighthearted and teasing, but he won’t stop fidgeting, shifting as he readjusts his seating. 

As you reach for the Temaki, he sucks in a breath, entirely hyper aware of every move you’re making. When you bite into it, he’s waiting. Anticipating. 

Your eyes fall shut as you chew, humming, then you grin. But when you open them and they catch his, it’s like you can tell—what he’s feeling. The furrow on your brows deepens as you look at him, concerned, “Hey, what’re you thinking?” 

How he hopes he hasn’t fucked this up, this dinner. What if the Miso Soup is too bland? Isn’t at all to your liking? What if the Wagyu’s dried out? Isn’t cooked properly? 

If he can’t get this right, this seemingly simple thing, how can he do everything else? Consider you the same way you’ve always considered him? 

He’s so sure of you his heart could burst at it, but what if he can’t ever come to terms with himself? With what he’s able to—

Then he feels it, your hand on his as you reach for him across the table, rubbing the back of it, soothing. 

He doesn’t even realize how much he’s worrying. 

“Megumi said it doesn’t go together,” he stares into your eyes, breathing slowly, grounding. It’s been a while since he’s given you a non-answer, but you accept it, patiently. 

“Megumi was here?” you ask gently, brow arched curiously. 

He nods, “Asked him to help a bit.” 

You hum, looking back at the food on the table before taking his other hand, soothing, “Well, that’s Megumi’s preference. Mine will be different.”

The smile you give him is warm, like the Miso Soup you’re reaching for right now. He watches you take a sip.

“S’good, better than mine.” You hum and he knows you’re lying but it’s still comforting, the fact that you’d do this for him. 

So if this is your effort for him, he isn’t going to waste it.

The rest of the dinner has you making the most exaggerated sounds, your ‘mmm’s and ‘ooo’s emphasizing how good the food is if he still doesn’t believe it. Your reactions are over-the-top and definitely overplayed, but it makes him laugh—-has him grinning in his seat the more he relaxes. 

You help clean up, even though he insists that you shouldn’t. 

“It’s our anniversary, Satoru.” you bump his hip, shooing him away from the table as you stack up the dirty plates. 

When he finishes washing the dishes and turns to find you, sitting atop his kitchen counter, nibbling on a piece of strawberry from the special Daifuku he put out for dessert, he approaches you. 

“Don’t be greedy now,” he rests his hand on your knee, coming to stand in between your legs. You hike your dress up a little bit, just to give him some space. 

You chuckle, cupping your hand under his chin as you feed him; he eats the entire thing, half-bitten by you already. And as the tips of your fingers touch his lips, sticky and syrupy from the strawberry coating, he takes them in his mouth, sucking lightly. 

He holds your gaze.  

“Thanks for doing all this,” you blink twice as he releases your fingers, interlacing them with his, “s’not everyday you have an entire dinner cooked by the love of your life.” 

You say it again—how you call him that so casually. 

What do you mean it’s not everyday you have an entire dinner cooked by the love of your life? 

You do it for him all the time.

He hums, moving closer. His other hand rises higher, kneading the flesh of your thighs through the smooth silk of your midi dress. 

“Thought you were going to spit it out for a second there,” he swallows his nerves. 

“Stop,” you frown, grabbing him by his belt loops before pressing your lips against his forehead, landing a loud ‘smack’, “go away silly thoughts.”

He chuckles when you blow a raspberry on it, laughter easing up as you drag your lips down to the center of his brows, tense from all the worrying earlier. 

You always seem to get it right, he thinks, this whole relationship thing—always knowing what to say. 

He tilts his head up, leaning closer to kiss you on the lips, fully. The breath he lets out mingled with yours, sweet with hints of strawberry, and when he catches your bottom lip you lean back, hands coming to rest on his cheeks. 

You nip on his upper lip, playful but lightly, and he groans, hand reaching up to slot itself by your neck. 

It’s there, underneath his fingertips, the pounding of your heartbeat. 

As you squirm on the kitchen counter, you pull away for a moment, restless from the growing heat. The action is subtle but dangerous as your cardigan slips off your shoulder, revealing the strap and lace of your lingerie. 

Blue eyes land on familiar pink, one he’s certain he’s caught you in before, but seeing it now, under white, it does something to his brain—-blood rushing, ears ringing. 

He leans closer, grabbing you by the waist as he runs his lips against along your neck, nipping on sensitive skin.

“‘Toru,” you gasp, breathy as you grip his shirt. 

“Tell me what else you want,” he murmurs against your skin, muffled. He sneaks one glance at you, pupils blown, before hovering over your temple, lips barely touching, tickling as he whispers, “anything.” 

Your fingers trail lower, pinching at his shirt before you tug, untucking it from his slacks. You turn to him, finding his lips, sliding them over his as you match his rhythm. It’s careful and slow, the way you unbutton his shirt, but it’s like he said—

This is your way; he’ll follow anything you say.

.

.

.

5 — WHEN ALL I SEE IS ME AND YOU

Gojo never thought he’d make this decision all because of your joint streaming subscription. 

It’s a normal weekend, regular in every way possible—just a night in for the both of you. He usually stays over at the end of the week, but it’s been bleeding into the weekdays too, lately. 

The sound of splashing water against tile echoes along the hallway; you normally play songs when you shower, but he guesses today isn’t that kind of day. 

He plops on the couch, pointing the remote to the TV as he selects the streaming app. Normal weekends consist of movie nights, half actually paying attention to the screen, and half paying attention to other things—either way, it ends in falling asleep. 

When the homepage lights up on the screen, he spots two accounts: yours and his. And it’s joint, under one household—your home. 

And he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s been thinking about this more lately: how the past months have been a slow realization coming to terms with himself, and where he sees this relationship going, but the visual in front of him sparks an influx of things he’s been noticing. 

The pajama pants he’s wearing now exist as a pair to a matching set he has with you, but tonight, he’s opted for a white t-shirt because his pajama top is tucked somewhere in the drawers of your bedroom. 

(You keep it with you because you like how it fits more, you say, but he thinks it’s because it smells like him, and you sleep with it when he’s away). 

There’s another pair of chopsticks you always wash now, too, plain bamboo with a ring around the handle, light blue. You’d bought it from a market down the street a year ago, and told him it reminded you of him—-how it’s his from now on, in the container of utensils by your kitchen sink. 

He’s always known how intertwined your lives are, a decade and more of learning one another is bound to entangle you somehow. But the past few years have caused knots, impossible to unravel—a thought that doesn’t scare him as much as it used to; a thought he now thinks doesn’t sound so bad as long as it’s with you. 

As long as it’s with you. 

The creaking of the bathroom door snaps him back, the soft pads of your footsteps growing louder as it reaches the living room.

“Oh, you haven’t picked a movie yet?” you ask, ruffling your hair with your towel. 

He puts on a smile, facing you as he hands over the remote, “You pick tonight.” 

.

You barely pay attention to the movie, snuggled up against his chest, constantly looking up to kiss his neck. He’s the same, distracted, but not for the same reasons you are. 

It’s a lot to resist, the way your hands creep under his shirt, warm against his stomach, but the sinking feeling in his gut makes it impossible to focus anywhere else. 

“Not the time?” you tap his cheek, and he tilts chin down, acknowledging you. The look on your face is anything but disappointed, and it tugs at him, makes him feel guilty that he’s making you worry. That he can’t give you what you’re looking for right now. 

“Maybe later,” he takes your hand, lips grazing your fingertips, “I’ll get ready for bed.” 

You nod, sitting up as he taps your hip. He knows you can tell something’s bothering him—it’s impossible to hide anything from you at this point, but this realization feels like a long time coming, like it’s been brewing, now spilling. 

He gets up, kissing the top of your head before walking to the bathroom. 

When he steps in, it still smells like you—the shampoo and bodywash you use. (Technically, it smells like him too—he’s started using yours because it feels like you’re right there, everywhere he goes). 

As he finishes brushing his teeth, reaching for his towel hooked beside yours, he remembers how none of this existed when it was just you. You only ever had one hook for one towel, how he used to share it with you only to realize that it would never dry. 

Then he found it, some time last year, when he walked in to take a shower and found a hook installed right beside yours, presumably his. 

The lights are adjusted for him too; fluorescent white is too bright, a pain for his Six Eyes, so you changed the bulbs to soft white, tinged a bit yellow, warm. 

And thing is, he never asked you to do any of this. 

You just… did. 

Because that’s you. 

And it’s making him realize even more how he wants to keep it this way, how he wouldn’t mind if this was the rest of his life, everyday.

.

The mood shifts when you both get in bed, and if you notice it, you don’t tell him. Whatever was bothering him before has settled, his head clear, more focused to reciprocate your earlier advances. 

He’s gentle when he touches you, taking the time to love you. Your clothes come off one by one with no haste at all, slowly, almost painfully. 

But he kisses you all over, leaves marks on places only he can see—by your hip, at the center of your chest, and another one, visible, on your neck below your ear. This is more than what he usually does, but he feels determined tonight.

“Off,” you whisper, as you tug at his shirt, pulling it off before throwing it to the side of your bed. 

He holds his breath when your fingers land on his chest, dragging across his collarbones before you tap thrice. This is a spot you’ve loved so intently, he’s become sensitive to it every time you come close. You leave kisses along it, some wet, others dry pecks, but it makes him shudder all the same, every time. 

As he hovers above you, arm bent by your head, his fingers trace your lower lip, tugging only to let it bounce back; he kisses you, noses bumping, softly at first before it turns hungry, lips overlapping, biting. His tongue runs over your lips, smooth and warm. 

There are more touches, more gazes; lips brushing and breaths mixing. The heat between you is shared, intermingling, and when he’s in you—

—it’s too much, how he feels looking at you right now, like you’re everything, the only thing seared into his memory. 

There’s a life he wants to give you, and though he knows there are others who might be more able to—he can’t let go of you, refuses to. He can’t bear the thought of anyone else being this close, doesn’t even want to think about someone else waking up next to you—the bed hair he always looks forward to, the lazy smile you always give him, the hands that always reach for him, first thing. 

These traces of you have made him want the whole of you, and if this is him being selfish, then so be it. 

His arms wrap around your back, hoisting you up as your legs wrap around him, and you’re both moving, timing in sync, and he’s crying. 

He tucks his face into your neck, and he’s sure you feel everything—wet tears, shuddery breaths, but you don’t say anything. You hold him tighter, fingers scratching his undercut as he gets closer and closer. 

Gojo Satoru is a man of impossibilities. 

And this life he thinks you deserve—he wants to be the one to give that to you. 

.

.

.

+1 — WITH MY KNEES ON THE FLOOR, WHEN I ASK FOR MORE

He shouldn’t even be feeling this way, because what’s the worst thing you can say?

It’s just you. 

It’s just you—

And… maybe it’s because it’s you, that the .01% possibility of you even saying no—

—it makes him feel sick. 

He looks back at the clock: 16:30. The walk from the conference room to his office will take an extra 3? 5? minutes. 

The room feels tighter, smaller, floorboards practically worn down from how much he’s paced around it. 

He’s rehearsed what he wants to say, how he’ll grab your hand and look you straight in the eyes as he does it. Fear and excitement churn in his belly, how he’s imagining the look on your face.

If you were here, you’d tell him to breathe—to follow you with every inhale and exhale. 

If you were here, you’d smile at him, lips curled up softly, gently, the one he loves. 

If you were here—-

—-the door opens, and you step into the room. 

Now that you’re here, he doesn’t know what to say. 

You stand before him in your uniform, smiling, just as he imagined you’d be. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, sparkling, the way he’s noticed they have since you were 17. 

He must be doing a terrible job hiding how he feels because your demeanor instantly shifts, face contorting into worry, brows furrowed and frown forming. You drop your bag as you walk to him, hands reaching to cup his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, voice hushed and delicate, “Did something happen?” 

Your fingers are warm on his cheeks (or is he too cold?), tilting his head lower so you can look him in the eyes. He can’t breathe, can’t hear you properly; you’re drowned out by the thumping of his heartbeat. 

“Need to tell you something,” he manages to mutter. 

Your eyes widen before you nod, lowering your hands as you speak slowly, “Okay, do you want to sit first? I have water—”

He shakes his head, hand reaching for your wrist, “I think… you should sit.” 

The pause alarms you, your body turning rigid. He has no idea what’s going through your mind, and you give nothing away as you mumble an ‘okay’ while walking to the couch. 

He stays beside you, not too far but still placing a bigger distance than he normally would—for the 0.01% probability that this isn’t what you want, that he isn’t too close, forcing you into an answer you might not want to say. 

The words float in his mind, but none of them string together to form the sentences he wants to tell you. Does he take it from the start? How this whole thing has always terrified him? How he never thought this was meant for him, but here he is, still learning but loving every second of it?

There are things he’s never had to consider before that he cares so much more about now—all because of you, how it’s for you, how he wants to do better by you. 

You call him the love of your life and he hasn’t told you, but you’re that and more for him, too. 

He practiced this, damn it. 

Why can’t he remember a single thing? 

The silence between you is tense, tainted by overthinking on both ends. You look like you’re waiting for bad news, and Gojo’s too stuck in his head, turning over the right words to say instead of reassuring you. 

“I’ve been thinking lately,” he starts, fiddling with his fingers. His feet won’t stop bouncing, knee fidgeting. He’s biting his lips, a tell-tale sign that there’s a lot he isn’t saying,

You place your hand on his knee to calm him down, and he stops bouncing it, looking at you as you muster up a small smile—far from being genuine, but it’s the fact that you’ve mustered it, as if to say: ‘it’s okay, you can tell me; i’ll always want to hear all of it.’ 

He swallows, “This arrangement isn’t working.” 

Your face drops, brows furrowing, “What arrangement?” 

His heart is pounding. 

“I stay over at yours too much.” 

Too much, that mine doesn’t feel like I belong there anymore, he fails to add. 

“I think we need more space.” 

Your hand on his knee slides off as you tuck it between your thighs. There’s a frown on your face he can’t seem to figure out, and the fact that you’re giving nothing away, whatever you’re thinking—he’s turning even more nervous right now. 

“Okay,” you finally say, tone flat, “when do you want me to return all your things?”

He tilts his head at you, confused, “What—” 

“Actually, can I…” you shift around, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears before clearing your throat, “can I ask if it’s something I did?” 

And his heart drops, straight into his stomach. 

It’s not like that at all. 

He’s hit with déjà vu; this conversation feels so familiar, so similar to one he’s had with you before—on the sofa chair across this couch, laying himself bare the same way he is now. 

The couch dips as he scoots closer to you, reaching for your hands. 

“It’s not—”

You scoff sadly, “Please don’t give me the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ thing,” then your tone drops, blinking away your tears, “if you’re going to break up with me, Satoru, just tell me why. Honestly.” 

He blinks. 

There’s a secret Gojo keeps, one he once told himself he’ll never tell you. 

But now seems like it’s fitting—the right time to say it. 

“You remember when I was unsealed?” he moves to the floor, getting down on his knees in front of you. You nod as he rubs circles over your knuckles, “When I first saw you, it was pretty scary.” 

He brings one hand to your cheek, catching a tear with his thumb. You pout, the crease between your brows growing deeper. 

“You ran yourself dry because of me.” 

When he thinks about it now, he still feels guilty. 

He believes that people are accountable for their own actions, and he still believes that with you, definitely—but he knows your reasons, why you acted that way, desperate for hope everyday. And for that, he takes responsibility. 

“I didn’t want that for you, still don’t.” 

Your frown deepens, tears welling up even more. 

Do you still think he wants to do this without you? 

He can’t take this, seeing you cry; he promised himself he wouldn’t be the reason behind this anymore.

“I’m not breaking up with you.” he tells you firmly, surely. 

You blink. 

Then your shoulders drop as you breathe out—what he hopes is relief. When your eyes meet, a little less sad, he sees the stars in them, glinting like they do when you look at him. 

This should be his answer already, how much you brighten at the thought of staying with him. But—

“I still think you deserve more,” he brings your hands to his lips, brushing them against it, and as you’re about to interject, he chuckles, “but I’m also too selfish to leave that up to someone else, you know?” 

“Soooo,” his hand reaches for his pocket, fishing around until he feels for what he’s looking for. He takes out his phone, swiping and scrolling until he finally stops, placing it on your lap for the both of you to see, “I’ve been thinking lately…” 

He looks up at you, the two skies you’ve always been drawn to, waiting. The unease in his stomach returns, churning. 

It’s a compilation of properties: houses, apartments, plots of land—all scattered around Tokyo, some central and some further on the outskirts. 

Your eyes widen, tilting your head to the side as you attempt to read what’s on his screen. You turn to him immediately, eyes still watery; the expression on your face is unreadable, a mixture of surprise and confusion, like you don’t exactly know what he means. 

“We don’t have to choose from these, it’s just a few brokers I talked to recently. We can look for others if you want, in quieter areas too—” 

Then you smile, beaming, tears falling from your eyes, “Satoru,” and you breathe out his name but it sounds like I love you.

There’s a quiet life he can’t give you, but he likes this one with you much better too. He takes your hands, placing one on his chest, over his heart, and the other on his cheek. Then, he leans into it, kissing the insides of your wrist before staring back at you sincerely. 

His heart is beating wildly, he’s sure, but if he can continue to make you this happy—

“Make a home with me?”

a/n: food descriptions—temaki is easy hand-rolled sushi, sunomono is japanese cucumber salad.

thank you notes: @stellamancer the actual birthday gift for u :') + @em1e for listening to me talk abt the entire plot and even reading the first few scenes!! + @mididoodles @kissxcore @itadorey for always being so supportive when am sharing my progress posts ilu + @crysugu @soumies @augustinewrites @ufo-ikawa no reason other than i just love u ᰔ i reply so slow when am writing smth...

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[spaceratprodigy]

Tagged by @darkfire1177 for 15 questions for 15 mutuals! idk who to tag who hasn't been already so I open it to anyone who wants to join in 👍

1.) Are you named after anyone?

Nope

2.) When was the last time you cried?

May or may not have cried last week during Death Shroud

3.) Do you have kids?

Nope, but I have been very involved in the raising of all of my nieces and nephews for the past like decade soooo

4.) Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not so much as an adult unless it's with someone I'm very close with who knows me and my attitude

5.) What sports do you play/have you played?

None. Sports don't interest me personally, only really enjoyed them if I could play casually with friends

6.) What's the first thing you notice about other people?

Uhhh I've never really thought much about it. Hair I suppose, mouth if they're talking to me? Face in general? Outfit?

7.) Eye color?

Dark brown, the look like they're black

8.) Scary movie or happy endings?

I'm a horror babe 🖤

9.) Special talents?

idk what qualifies as a talent with me. I feel like I'm skilled in many ways but I think my bf can probably answer this about me better than I could. He'd prob say something silly like being able to name a tune the moment I hear it or manifesting food bc whenever I tell him a craving I have someone somehow always without fail ends up bringing it to me unprompted

10.) Where were you born?

East Coaster ✌

11.) Free space

I've been an artist my entire life but I've also been a top of my class STEM student in multiple fields, I've done architecture work for real buildings in my community, I'm quite good at soldering circuit boards and I'm experienced in some construction fields like carpentry and electrical. Stuff I never really get to talk abt or don't because of how I've been treated by others but I'm quite proud and I should get to be excited and annoying abt it sometimes

12.) Do you have any pets?

Unfortunately no. My last pet passed away a few years back and I'll never have another one so long as I have to be in the same space as my fucking parents

13.) How tall are you?

Like 5'5" or 5'6" I don't remember

14.) Favorite school subjects?

Calculus and Honors World History 👍 my favorite elective was Sci-Fi Reading and I was the only student who actually liked Sci-Fi so every other day it was just me and my teacher being nerds together bc no one else cared or participated

15.) Dream job?

Illustrator ✏ I always also say Park Ranger lmao aaaa I do genuinely like doing a lot of things! But doing things as a career or being stuck in places where you get underpaid and/or treated poorly constantly makes it complicated

[zarisdonut]

The opinions that literally no one asked for

Alright so yesterday I finished Fate: The Winx Saga and here are all my thoughts.

Disclaimer: These are just my opinions, so it's okay if you don't agree w me.

First off, STELLATRIX.

Can't get them off my mind and I'm a 100% sure Beatrix is gonna come back so it's fine. I absolutely love their dynamic and honestly, I've spent all the eps just waiting for their scenes and I am not ashamed of it. Btw, Stella should've been a lesbian, but it's fine. As long as she's sapphic I don't really care.

Also, I'm pretty sure theyre gonna be canon. Like, all their relationship is so queercoded, with parallels w other ships and everything??? No way they're just gal pals. I refuse. So yeah, in other words, I am clowning hard, which is not surprising cause all I ever do in life is clown over sapphic non-canon ships apparently. (I have a long history abt that)

Musa

Musa, girl, what have they done to you? I didn't hate the haircut as much as I thought I would (even tho its not great) but the clothes???? Hello????? It was hard to watch.

Also, I was kind of surprised w the fact that I liked her "transition" from mind fairy to Specialist, so I'm pretty pleased with her storyline. I will say this: I wish she were sapphic. Not bc of anything specific, but I do remember having a moment where I shipped her w Stella, cause I made a whole fanfic in my head abt them, so yeah.

Also, riven and musa????? Look, I don't normally like m/f ships (specially if they're not in a sitcom). Like, I don't hate them, but they don't give me the buzz, yk. Most times I'm just neutral about them, but I gotta say, man, that Riven and Musa... God, I loved their scenes. I found their dynamic so interesting and the chemistry. THE CHEMISTRY. The slowburn is gonna burn so good.

Terra + Flora

V happy with the fact that Terra is a lesbian cause we need more lgbtq+ people in this show (and in life in general). I will say her storyline w the specialist girl is a bit odd cause they don't really focus much on her (which they obvs should've done that) and isn't she dating someone else when they have their first kiss???? A bit confused abt that.

Other than that, I liked her storyline, and even tho her coming out isn't the best one Ive ever seen, I was pretty pleased. Especially the moment where she tells the whole group and she wants to dismiss it w the rug or smth (I forgot lol) and Stella comes in and hugs her???? Melts my heart.

Moving on, I didn't know how I was gonna feel abt Flora?? And I still don't know lol. I will say that the actress did a good job, but I think they should've added more bonding scenes between Flora and the other girls cause it just didn't feel like they were best friends just like the rest of the group? But maybe it's just me. Still, I don't know how I feel about Flora yet. Like, Im pretty sure I like her, but I think it's more about what she represents, (which is the cartoon character) than what she actually is. I definitely need to see more of her.

Also, the relationship w Terra,, it made sense but also it was too predictable. Like, its not bad but I did find it a tad basic and I wish they made it a bit differently. Like, I know it's hard to innovate but idk, maybe add a little something that makes them stand out? But again, maybe that's just me.

Aisha

Idk what to say abt her tbh, I just like her lol. I will say that it didn't make a lot of sense the way she reacted when she first met Grey (I think that's his name but in case its not, I'm talking abt the guy lol). Like, bro, the lake is not yours, chill. So it was a bit hard for me to get into the relationship but eventually I kinda did, so yeah. V sad that the first boyfriend she has, turns out to be a blood witch. The bestie cannot catch a break lol.

I will say that, (a bit of constructive criticism here) I find Aisha as a character a bit flat. And not only her, I think that in general all the characters except maybe Beatrix and even Riven(?) seem pretty shallow to me. Or maybe like, not shallow but as if they haven't still found their own spark? Idk if this makes sense but I feel like most characters fall into these cliches and tropes, which is totally fine, cause nowadays literally everyone needs to fall into one of these, like it's literally unavoidable. But baby, you need to add a bit of their own spark to make them stand out. To make them memorable, yk? So yeah, I wish they stopped and tried to work on the characters a bit more. Like, Stella, Musa and even Terra are not as bad (even tho imo they a bit of work from the writers wouldn't hurt cause Im pretty sure the actresses make more than half of the work in this aspect) but Aisha, Flora, Sky and especially Bloom... It's bad yall. It's very bad (Will explain the Bloom thing later, don't hate me just yet)

BTW: I say all of this out of all the love in my heart, cause I believe in all the characters and I see the potential, and what they could become. And I hate the fact that I can see it and they're just wasting it so yeah. Don't hate me besties <333

Bloom + Sky

I'm sorry but Bloom is the most basic female main character from a sci-fi tv show you can ever have. Like, bro, just put a little more effort into creating her, please. Like, I'm begging. Maybe it's just me, but the bestie is missing personality (not dragging the actress, just the writers and how they did it), cause yeah, its fine if she wants to sacrifice herself all the time, or if she wants to do everything alone cause she's special n stuff but it's like her whole personality is revolving around her having the Dragon Flame. Which yeah, it is important and it is a v important part of her life but dude. Dont make her one-dimensional.

This also happens w Sky btw. And ofc when you put a bland character w another bland character everything gets... well. Not great. But I won't get into their relationship bc honestly, I do not care. Like I said before, m/f relationships don't give me the buzz so yeah.

To wrap it up...

I did like the second season. I would like to say I liked it more than the first one but I barely remember anything of it, so yeah, lol (Im a horrible fan, I know). I will say that idk what it is, that's making me continue the show, cause I normally only consume sapphic/lgbt media, but here we are. And I did want to leave it a few times cause the heavy straight content is so strong, but Im glad I continued it. And I hope they get renewed for a third season cause I really believe that it has potential and yeah, that's all for now ig. Maybe I'll do another post talking abt other stuff, like plotwise or smth. We'll see. But it'll def be shorter than this cause holy shit, this is long for a person who "isn't v into the show anyways" (that's me lying to myself btw lol)

N e ways idk whos gonna read this, but on the off chance someone has read through all my bullshit and is reading these last sentences, woah, I'm impressed. I cannot believe you've stuck around to know all the thoughts of a random stranger on the internet abt a show abt fairies lol.

N e ways, I love you and have a good day <3333

Kindly,

The random stranger on the internet.

[yandere-daze]

YAHOOO 🖼 ANON HERE I JUST HAD A VERY COOL BURST OF SOMETHHING (THIS)

SO LIKE SELF AWARE AU RIGHT. YEAH.

i dont know if you play jpstars, but when you play the anniv and theme mvs (the one that has a little orange square bubble in the left corner of the music option, theyre in the farthest below among the unit categories n all that) basically the all stars mv, the one thats gonna sing are your team members and the character in your center will be the lead singer! I JUST THINK THATS AWESOME LIKE YOU CAN CHANGE IT WHENEVER AND YOU CAN MAKE ANYONE YOU LIKE SING, in my case I always put mika in the center heheheh my silly little scrunkly!!

theres also this thing abt the surprising thanks!! mv (7th/recent anniv mv) that theyll give the main three in your mv (center and the ones beside them) a special outfit change! there are 4 options that you can pick before the mv, the first being random (among the ones thats gonna be mentioned) and the others being cherry (the outfit stays the same), 777 (changes to the one like in the official/yt mv, super awesome and sparkly) and jackpot! in jackpot i assumed theyre gonna choose a random one, so its basically a gamble.

FUNNY THING MY FIRST TIME PLAYING THE MV AND PICKED RANDOM THEY GAVE ME JACKPOT AJD GAVE ME MY TWO FAVORITE MIKA AND ARASHI FEATURE SCOUT 5* OUTFIT THAT I DONT EVEN HAVE THE CARD OF I WAS RLLY HAPPY, they gave ritsu the 6th anniv uniform (he was wearing the meowsketeer costume LMAO).

afterwards I tried to put shu in the main 3 to see my absolute favorite feature scout outfit that i REALLY want but have never gotten the chance or luck of getting and set it to jackpot, but he kept getting rlly generic and lame ones 💀 i was so distraught like i tried over 5 times and it aint doing shit.

they did gave mika the bunny⭐️puffy uniform two times and thats cute though!! i love him so much.

SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE AND RANTING LMAO 😭😭 i just think itd be a very very interesting thing to talk abt self aware au wise!! i wanna hear your thoughts abt it too if you dont mind hehe, thank you for your hardwork as always!

oh and ps the others in my mv team was midori and koga, i have midoris dollhouse card and kogas prison card thingy, my naru 5* is her pretty 5 one. i also picked mama from the initial option! hehe yeah im a mamap too, and he came home rlly easily too!! you can give your thoughts on these or not, its up to you, this is so fun wauuu

HAVE A GREAT DAY TOO WAHAHA ⭐️

I do indeed play jp stars too, though I've been on a bit of a break since the acanthe event that basically took all of my dias away to get Mika djdjd So it's been a while since I last played!

I love the songs where the voices actually change depending on who you put on your team! I also love making Mika my center, I can't help it, his voice is just so beautiful 🥺 I love him so dearly I'm not even kidding

I hope you have a great day too!!! 😊💕💕

gn reader

tw yandere

I imagine that in a self-aware AU they would be even more honored to be put on the team if you played a song like that! Usually all they can do is follow the moves and watch as you play the game. They perk up when you choose one of their own songs because it means they can show you their passion properly and sing just for you! Meanwhile they probably don't enjoy dancing to someone else's song that much. Why choose their song over one of their own?

But with the ones where the voices change? Oh, they're very happy!! You could have chosen anyone else but you put them on the team! These songs don't have an advantage for any particular color or unit members so you had complete free reign when it came to picking the idols you wanted.

So when you chose them over all the others? They're so so happy!! Especially the one you decide to put as the center. You love them the most, don't you? Oh they love you so much too!!!

And omg I didn't know that that was a thing for surprising thanks??? I actually haven't played the song yet so this was completely news to me! That's such a cool feature! I already was impressed with the way the beatmap would change in fusionic stars depending on who you put as center but now we also get outfit changes? And it's even possible to get them to wear outfits you don't even have? That's so cool!!

Imagine if this wasn't actually in the game originally and the characters just put that feature into the game themselves in hopes of impressing you with all the outfits they have to offer. You may not have pulled for their cards but that's okay, they'll just have to show you what you've been missing out on and maybe then you'll reconsider and give them some more attention!

At the same time, maybe the idols try to mess with the wardrobe of the ones you seem to prefer and only give them the really basic outfits you'll find boring. Don't they shine way brighter compared to them?

So direct your gaze their way and forget about those idols that couldn't even be bothered to dress up properly for you!

Meanwhile your favorites in question are upset that someone replaced their clothes without their knowledge. They wanted to show off an outfit you sadly didn't manage to get to cheer you up a bit but now that was so rudely taken away from them.

Please choose them again, they promise they'll make it up to you next time!!