#this all sort of just comes back around to that ‘what is or isn’t canon is entirely different depending on who you ask’

[kybercrystals94]

Of Scene Breaks and Plot Twists

Read here on Ao3!

Rated: G | Words: 2256 | Summary: The members of Clone Force 99 have an unwanted guest.

A/N: For Christmas, I wrote an entirely unserious, indulgent little fic because I can…so I did.

I am totally making fun of myself with this fic…apologies to the characters for not always (read: rarely) having a plan when I write.

I dedicate this story to every fanfic writer I know and don’t. May you never cease to amaze with your creativity and dedication to the art…you are a gift to the communities you partake in.

“Alright, boys, settle down,” Hunter says, walking into the cockpit. “We’ve got our next mission.”

“Do we actually get to blow something up this time?” Wrecker asks, sitting up in the seat he was slouching in.

Crosshair takes out his toothpick and flicks it at Wrecker, the sliver of wood bouncing harmlessly off the giant’s shoulder. “Or shoot something?”

“We have been on three consecutive data retrieval missions with no enemy engagement,” Tech states.

Echo points out, “Which is a good thing. It means we did our job well.”

“It means they were boring!” Wrecker declares.

Tech and Crosshair nod.

“I won’t promise anything,” Hunter says, grinning, “However, there is a high probability of explosions and shooting taking place this time around.”

The news receives reactive sounds of approval from most of the members of Clone Force 99. However, Echo isn’t fooling anyone with his eye roll. He’s been craving action as much as any of his brothers.

“So, what is it?” Echo asks.

“What’s what?” Hunter asks.

Echo frowns at him. “The mission?”

Hunter looks down at the data pad in his hand. “I…I don’t know. Nothing’s come through.”

“But you just said–”

“Sorry, sorry! That’s my fault,” I say, pushing myself up from the wall I was leaning against. “I’m sorta writing this as I go. I have no idea what your mission is yet. The keyword here is yet, because I’m sure it will come to me as we go.”

I’m honestly not sure what sort of reaction I expected, but five blasters pulled on me was not on the agenda. I put my hands up, heart battering in my throat. “Woah, woah, hey!” I cry, “Don’t shoot!”

“Who are you and how did you get on our ship?” Hunter growls, blaster still carefully poised to take me out if I make any wrong move.

I swallow. “I’m a fanfic writer. I’m the one writing this story.”

Oh. This is my story. Ha, sorta forgot that I can just…

The Batch lower their weapons with bewildered expressions, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“What just happened?” Wrecker asks. “Why’d we all lower our blasters like that?”

“I told you, I’m writing this story. I’m a fanfic writer,” I say, and, bolstered by my own abilities, I walk over and take a seat in behind Tech, turning the chair to face my darling characters. Aww, they look so sweet when they’re confused.

“You’re using some sort of mind trick,” Tech tells me. “You’re a Force user.”

I laugh. “I wish, but no. I’m just a humble fanfic writer, I promise.”

“You obviously know we don’t understand what that means,” Hunter says, and he sounds so annoyed. A little Crosshair-like, if I’m being honest. “So explain it. Now.”

Bossy.

“Fine,” I sigh, reaching in my back pocket and pulling out my phone.

Tech’s eyes light up, and I can tell he wants to ask about it; however, a sharp look from Hunter makes him settle back in the pilot’s chair. I make a mental note to show it to him once I’ve calmed everybody down.

For the sake of my gentle reader, I won’t get into the vaguely detailed explanation I gave the boys. It did not go well, and nobody calmed down. After all, how do you explain that someone’s reality and existence is fictional in your reality…without giving them spoilers for their futures? Then you would have to get into fix-its and canon and head canon and all that complicated jargon. Suffice to say, I had to again utilize my writing power to make them sit down and shut up for two seconds while I assured them that their lives were very much “real”, and that I am just trying to share one of their stories with my world…and also that I am making it up on the fly.

“I would like to study these works of fiction,” Tech says.

I ensure my phone is locked and secured in my pocket. “Mmm…maybe later.”

“So, basically,” Crosshair says, and somehow he manages to sound genuine and sarcastic at the same time, “you are calling all the shots and we have no freewill.”

I guess it does sound bad when he puts it like that.

“How about a compromise,” I say, “I’ll let you boys ‘call the shots’, and I’ll just write it down…if you stop threatening to shoot me out of the airlock. Deal?”

They collectively look unimpressed.

I continue stubbornly, “I’m not going anywhere until I have my story. I’ve been suffering from writer’s block for weeks, and this is the first decent idea I’ve had.”

“Half-baked is more like,” Echo grumbles. “Kriffing idiot.”

“See?” I say, splaying a hand at the cyborg, “If I were controlling everything, would I be letting y’all verbally assault me?”

“Let me shoot you with a blaster, and I’ll be convinced,” Crosshair says with a menacing flash of teeth that I think might be some sort of smile.

Suppressing a shudder, I roll my eyes. “The sooner I finish this story, the sooner I’ll get out of here. Then I’ll never bother you again…”

…In person.

I love internal dialogue.

“Fine,” Hunter agrees after a long, long bout of silence. “What’s our mission then?”

Oh. Right. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place.

Scrambling to come up with something, I say, “Alright, you should have a mission on your data pad now.”

Hunter looks down at his device. “It just says data extraction mission from blank.”

“Hey!” Wrecker objects, loudly, “I thought there was gonna be explosions and shooting!”

Tech takes the data pad from Hunter. “Not to mention the parameters of the mission are unfathomably vague.”

“Alright, alright,” I say, putting up my hands. “How about now?”

“Dangerous data extraction mission from insert planet name here,” Tech reads aloud.

Echo groans. “You have to give us more than that!”

“I don’t usually have to come up with all the details.”

“You’ve given us literally nothing,” Crosshair says, “Less than nothing.”

“You are making it very difficult to believe that anyone reads your stories willingly,” Tech says.

I narrow my eyes.

**

“What just happened?” Hunter asks.

We are in hyperspace, coordinates safely secured in the nav computer, boys fully aware of the mission parameters.

My work here is done.

“That, my friends, is called a scene break,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Now, tell me about this mission.”

“Why would we go over it again?” Crosshair asks, annoyed. “We’ve been arguing strategy for the past hour.”

“So I can write it down.”

“What do you mean so you can write it down? I thought that’s what you were doing!”

I shake my head. “No, see, that’s the point of a scene break. I can skip writing all the monotony and just give readers the jist of it. So, give me the summary of the mission and I’ll write down the important bits I care about.”

Echo gapes at me. “You mean to tell me you still don’t know what the mission is?”

“Which is why you’re going to tell me,” I tell him patiently.

The boys exchange glances. I can see in their microexpressions that they’ve come to some sort of agreement that I am not going to like. Now wait a minute…

“Don’t tell the writer anything, boys,” Hunter says, turning back to the nav computer. “They get to come along for the ride, just like they wanted.”

“You can’t do that!” I cry.

“We just did, di’kut.” Crosshair begins polishing his rifle, the item having appeared during the scene break. “We’re in charge now.”

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going,” I implore weakly.

“Classified,” Echo says.

“Is it still a data extraction mission?”

Tech has the audacity to shrug. He’s scrolling through my phone. How…when…?

“Hey, give that back,” I say, lunging forward to snatch it from him.

He evades me easily, and I go sprawling across the durasteel floor.

Rolling over, I glare up at the commandos grinning down at me. “I’m still the writer,” I say, “I can still do whatever I want and know whatever I want.”

“Then why don’t you do it?” Crosshair taunts.

I must not be completely over my writer’s block after all, because nothing comes to mind. Somehow, the characters are in charge. Kriff.

“Tech,” I say, returning to the topic of my phone, “you can’t be looking at that stuff.”

“These tags are concerning,” Tech mutters, continuing to scroll as if I hadn’t said anything. “Hurt forward slash comfort? Angst? Fluff? Whump? What do these mean? That is, what is the context?”

I hate to do it, but I use my writing ability to put the phone back in my hands before Tech hurts himself emotionally. “Some things are better left unknown, Tech.”

“I swear,” Crosshair growls, “if any of those fanfics are sappy, I will shoot you out the airlock. I don’t care about our ‘deal’.”

“I’m not the only fanfic writer, okay? There are thousands of us.”

“Sounds like a nasty infestation,” Echo says.

“I’ll have you know,” I tell him primly, “we are a lovely community.”

Wrecker, the sweet boy, offers to help me to my feet, putting a hand out. I grip it and he hauls me up a little too roughly, nearly dislocating my shoulder. I grin at him nonetheless. “Thanks, Wreck.”

“Sure thing, writer,” he tells me. He leans in. “In those fanfic thingies you write, do I get to blow stuff up a lot?”

“Uhm, well,” I say, sitting back down, “it depends on the purpose of fic, really.”

“Whadda you mean? Aren’t they all just missions you make up for us?”

Crosshair huffs. “Or pretend to make up?”

“Listen,” I say, leaning around Wrecker to glare at the sniper, “I have writer’s block. Most of the time I think of legitimate missions.”

“Oh, yeah? Name one.”

“Well, one time, you were on this planet getting intel and the building that Echo and Tech was in collapsed and the rest of you had to dig them out.”

“What planet was it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What was the intel?”

“Important.”

“So you just make whatever the kark you want up and people actually read it?” Echo asks.

Offended by the oversimplification of my work, I retort, “Well, I like to focus more on character development than missions. But that’s just me. Other writers are a heck of a lot better at writing mission stories.”

“Then how’d we get stuck with you?” Crosshair asks, throwing his wadded up polishing rag at me.

I wish I could say I caught it, but it hits me in the face.

“You know what,” I sputter, tossing the rag aside, “Scene…”

**

“...break.”

We are standing in the middle of a hall, surrounded on both sides by droids.

“Would you stop doing that?” Hunter shouts at me over the din of blasterfire.

I crouch down next to Tech at a control panel. “Hey, can I borrow one of your blasters?”

“Write yourself one,” he says, deadpan, keeping his focus on hacking into the Separatist system.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

Tech rolls his eyes and passes over one of his blasters. “Please take care not to shoot one of us.”

“I think I can handle it.”

I cannot handle it. My first shot goes wide and high, taking out a light in the ceiling. Before I can try again, someone snatches the blaster out of my hand.

“Give me that before you hurt yourself.” It’s Echo.

“If that’s a legitimate risk, let them keep it,” Crosshair calls out.

“Aw, don’t hurt yourself, little writer person,” Wrecker says, scooping me up under one arm, “I’ll protect ya!”

I kick my legs and flail my arms, dangling haplessly in his grip. “Put me down!”

“Not until we’re out of here,” Hunter orders.

Fine then.

**

We’re back on the Marauder. The boys’ dark armor is covered in spatters of dried mud, and the right lens of Tech’s goggles has a crack in it.

“What happened to you?” I ask, sitting comfortably in the pilot’s chair, unscathed.

“You’d know if you stuck around to find out,” Crosshair growls.

“Apparently, I was just in the way back there. So I skipped ahead.”

“You’ve been in the way this whole time,” Hunter mutters.

Oh. Those are fighting words.

I smile, and I hope it appears as devilish as I feel. “Plot twist.”

**

I’m not sure what the creature is, but it’s ugly. It’s covered in some sort of goo and it smells putrid.

And it’s gnawing on the Marauder. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have teeth, so the ship won’t be damaged, but it will leave a residue that probably won’t be fun to scrub off later.

“What in the universe is that?” Wrecker asks.

We’ve moved outside of the ship, and we’ve discovered that the creature simply absorbs blaster bolts and is completely unfazed. The boys will have to distract it somehow, lure it away.

How inconvenient.

“This was uncalled for,” Tech says, turning to glare at me.

“Did you see it coming?” I ask. When I am not dignified with a response from any of them, I add, “Plot twist successful.”

“How are we supposed to get rid of it?” Echo asks.

I shrug. “Maybe you boys will figure it out by the next chapter.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘next chapter’?”

“And this is what we writers like to call,” I say, smiling sweetly, “a cliffhanger.”

TBC

A/N: Will I ever actually finish this fic?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

‘Tis the nature of fanfic, isn’t it? ;D

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[goldensunset]

while I can't say I've encountered nearly as many Radiant Garden fans as you probably have in order for that to jump to mind, I actually did find myself really agreeing with your take on it. I totally thought I was missing some cutscenes for a while, like maybe I just hadn't seen something that was in the manga or in the DS version of 358/2 days, but no. people actually do just extrapolate off of nothing. and while that's fine for the most part, I never see this level of dedication being put in for female characters. as a huge Aqua fan it's frustrating that she has so many interesting qualities that I'd love to see explored but DON'T because most of the fandom would rather extrapolate from a guy with 4 seconds of screen time than even think about her. unless she's being shipped with Terra, I guess. I think the R.G. folks are just a microcosm of that bigger issue--they'd dig into the earth's fucking mantle looking for gold in an emo boy before digging six feet down for a woman

salt under the cut (i won’t make this a habit i promise)

adjdjcnsnxn that’s an incredible way to put it i might steal that phrasing… see like again i understand the ienzo thing purely from a life situation point of view. if a lil boy was an orphan raised by sketchy weirdos in a lab and then at the ripe old age of 8 had the whole losing-his-heart-and-growing-up-less-than-human-raised-in-a-cult thing. sure i’d want to explore that too! i’d read farther into it than canon. but literally where is the passion for aqua or kairi or skuld etc etc… i mean the girls have their fans but like no one is out here constructing an entire elaborate universe out of them. like i do my best but it’s hard work… but i mean that’s hardly surprising right. that’s how the story goes

honestly ienzo fans don’t even make me mad it’s more like i get annoyed when ppl obsess over like. aeleus and dilan.. because respectfully and i say this with love. there is *nothing* there. they didn’t even bother bringing back their vas in kh3. they are filler. why do all the shifty weirdo radiant garden men draw rabid fans but heaven forbid the ladies get love. hold on *approaches hornet’s nest with a baseball bat* i think there’s something about specifically adult fictional men that- ((i reconsider and stop myself))

but like. people are allowed to do whatever they want idk at worst it’s annoying when they start attacking others over alleged mischaracterization. yes i know in your fun and admittedly interesting fantasy he acts like this. but you cannot get mad when another fan portrays him the way we see him in canon lollllllllll

[the-somwthing]

Welcome to my little meta analysis essay called

Why do we misremember Flower Husbands as being “nicer” than it was?

Disclaimer: I’m not here to talk about whether or not FH is “toxic” or anything like that. It’s just a fact that many old fans rewatching FH POV and new fans who are watching it for the first time after seeing fan content tend to be surprised at how they actually behaved in the series compared to how everyone remembered them being back in the day. This will NOT go over whether or not I think FH is unhealthy or whatever and instead just discuss why I believe this phenomenon has happened.

So, if I try to make this a fancy well written essay, I’ll be here all day, so I’ll just get to the point. 3rd Life came out during the DSMP era of mcyt. MCRP has been around for ages, but the DSMP style of RP (which I’ll be calling “smp rp”) was pretty much popularized by DSMP, mostly towards the end of 2020. For reference, 3rd Life started early 2021, so there’s about a half a year between these two events, and DSMP kept going for years so 3rd Life was absolutely happening during the golden era of DSMP.

But what does DSMP have to do with this? Well, it sort of created this idea of ��lore” and only specific things being “canon”. You can make fun of me for the way I worded that, but you know what I mean, DSMP was weird about that stuff. I don’t really blame them as it was kind of a new style of RP they accidentally spawned, but still, it was a confusing time for SMPs.

3rd Life was actually less like DSMP and more like the modern SMP RPs, where there’s no (known, lol) scripted events and the fandom itself deciphers what is or isn’t “canon” rather than it being told to them, with mostly everything being considered canon. HOWEVER, I do believe that DSMP’s style did still affect the fandom, specifically with the topic of this essay, Flower Husbands.

But why would it only really affect Flower Husbands? Now we get into a rough topic: shipping discourse. Back in those days, shipping in the mcyt fandom was heavily frowned upon. Moreso than it is today (I know it’s still around, but it was a lot worse the earlier we go lol). I’ve even seen old relics of ppl saying flower husbands should only be portrayed as platonic cuz it’s wrong to ship them, despite their team name literally being husbands. But more importantly, for A LOT of people, flower husbands was the One Ship people felt “allowed” to ship, BECAUSE it was canon. So they would allow FH and shun every other ship.

My point isn’t actually that, with it being the only “acceptable” ship everyone tried to make it more wholesome, though I suppose that could be a contributor. But my ACTUAL point is where all the things I laid out finally close in on each other:

Ships were a Dangerous territory in mcyt fandom, and ships being “canon” was something a lot of people weren’t prepared to deal with. People don’t want to get too close to RPF territory, but back in the day their ideas of c! vs cc! wasn’t as great, so they default to the DSMP Rule of “if it’s stated to be roleplay, then it’s canon to the characters, if not, it’s noncanon and just the CCs hanging out”.

You see where I’m going with this? When trying to follow this rule for a character relationship where they don’t explicitly state what is or isn’t RP, they hear “we’re married” and instantly mark that as canon to the characters since it clearly isn’t true to the CCs, and tend to block out anything else, otherwise you’re risking it not actually being true to the characters. Especially when it’s things like Scott saying something mean about Jimmy; that directly contradicts the “these characters are in love” thing, so it must not be canon, right?

But wouldn’t people still remember that these things happened, or did they actually straight up not process any of it? My answer to that is: of course everyone was paying attention, but with the context that it’s the CCs playing a video game, all of the teasing and other behavior seems WAY less serious. It just looks like average friends playing a hunger games smp together. And as I explained earlier, the fandom was ONLY processing this as a CC thing, so Scott’s treatment of Jimmy never stood out because that’s just how it is playing games.

Back to DSMP, I’m not active in that fandom anymore but I’ll see snippets sometimes, and I’ve seen the claim that beeduo was actually boring in canon and the fandom was the one that made it interesting. I feel like this is exactly what happened with FH. Nobody was actually expecting anyone to go hard into romantic roleplay, so the fans just take whichever pair says they’re getting married and fill in the blanks themselves. And that was normal back then, it wasn’t fans making stuff up for no reason, it was kind of expected of us.

So yeah, I personally believe that this whole confusion about FH is a result of its time. Whether you want to finally look at the actual substance of the relationship rather than following weird rules about what is or isn’t “canon”, or you believe that since FH was from a time where romantic RP was confusing and weird it would make the most sense to take into account the time period it came from and ignore the less appealing bits in favor of the fanon, I don’t really care honestly. But man isn’t this an interesting situation.

[starkeysbaby]

When the turtle incident at the beach happens the reader gets hurt saving the turtle 🐢 and rafe snap. Everyone sees a different side of rafe

a/n: i LOVE this idea. - Unfortunately i feel like i didn’t do it justice 🥲🥲 but hope you enjoy!! <3

“if i ever see you round my girl again…”

pairings: s4 rafe cameron x kook but not kooky!reader [est. relationship]

warnings: S4 E4 SCENE DESCRIBED/USED (not sure if it’s really a spoiler tho as nothing plot wise is revealed) turtles being hurt, blood, death threat, canon rafe lol, use of swear words. (pls lemme know if i forgot any)

summary: you just wanted peace between everyone, unfortunately you and a turtle became collateral damage over a kook vs pogue contest. rafe is not happy…

navigation ⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊˚ ⋅ obx masterlist

You were a kook? Well that’s what your bank account said. However, you were closer with the pogues and basically hung out with them or your boyfriend.. rafe cameron. that was the weird part. It had been awkward since the pogues all returned from El Dorado. You had sort of become the middle man in between rafe and the pogues including his sister, sarah. It was an unspoken rule between you and rafe that you just don’t talk about them with him which you respected. He’ll come around in his own time you thought.

When the swell came in, your boyfriend and his friends were eager to hit the beach and have a surf day to which you wouldn’t turn down. meeting up at tannyhill, you saw that topper had bought his new girlfriend, ruthie who you weren’t too keen on. You had mentioned this to rafe a while back but he said that it isn’t yours or his business to get involved with toppers love life and told you to just stay away from her if you didn’t like her to which you couldn’t argue.

Arriving at the beach you saw your friends, jj, john b, kiara and sarah and quickly told rafe that you were going over to say hi. Rafe just mumbled something as he set up his towel and told you not to be long as he stared daggers at sarah.

“hey!” you wave jogging up to the pogues, hugging sarah then kie. “what’s up y/nn (your nickname)” kie asked. “not much. just thought we’d hit the waves. i told them we should go a bit farther from here but they didn’t listen… sorry” you explained, knowing it’s best if the kooks and pogues don’t cross paths today. “you’re good. it’s them we don’t trust” jj butts in. “yeah, no. i’ll tell them to lay off..” you smile then turn to sarah. “he’s trying. he’ll come around. i know it..” you tell her, referring to rafe. Sarah just shrugs, pretending as if not being on good terms with her brother isn’t bothering her. “wanna surf?” you smile and take sarah’s hand dragging her to the water as you both laugh.

After surfing with sarah and the pogues for a while, you had joined rafe on his towel and spent an hour or so just chilling with him. He showered you in attention and you did your best to ignore ruthies little comments about the pogues and how jj is a poor sport. At one point, rafe saw you side eye ruthie for shitting on the pogues again. “hey. don’t frown.” he mumbles turning your head to face him and pats your cheek. “i don’t get her problem rafe.” you sigh. “yeah it sucks, but cmon” “no. it’s unnecessary. they aren’t doing anything to her.” you tell him, referring to the pogues just minding their business apart from that tiny squabble with jj and topper in the ocean but topper didn’t seem to care too much so why does ruthie? “i told you, ignore her” rafe says a little sternly taking your hand in his, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “yeah yeah…” you smile as you peck him, letting it go as you didn’t want ruthie to ruin the day.

While you packed up, unknown to you and rafe, ruthie was convincing topper to just ride the truck over to the pogues to mess up their set up. You in the meantime went over to the pogues to say bye, only to find them saving a turtle hatch in which you started assisting with. The next thing you know, you see ruthie driving her truck at a high speed straight at you. While sarah and kie do their best to get the turtles out of the way in time, you stand in front waving your hands trying to get ruthies attention to stop her. “hey! hey!!! stop! there’s a hatch!” you call out but she doesn’t hear you. you can vaguely see topper yell at ruthie, probably to stop but she’s just laughing. kiara notices ruthie has no intention of stopping and quickly pulls you out the way.

Luckily no turtles were hurt at that point but you see ruthie circling around to go again. You stand up again, trying to stop her. Rafe has also noticed this and starts making his way over to get, in his words, your stupid ass out of the way. You realise ruthie yet again has no intention of stopping so you quickly go to pick up a turtle that was in the way but you get hit slightly by the truck, knocking you out.

“what the actual fuck?!” kiara yells rushing to you, she takes the turtles from you and calls for rafe who’s at your side in seconds. He looks up at a shocked, somewhat guilty looking ruthie. “what the fuck is your problem?” he spits “did you not see her fucking standing there telling you to stop!” he yells as he takes off his shirt to wrap around a bloody scrape on your knee from something in the sand. Overall you weren’t too badly hurt but might need some stitches. That was enough for rafe to see red though.

As sarah goes to fetch water to splash you awake, ruthie stutters “i.. i thought she’d get out the way. why would she just fucking stand the-” kie cuts her off “there was a turtle hatch! look what you did! she was tryna save this turtle” kie yells at her, showing her the hurt turtle to which ruthie turns her face away from. “why the fu-” rafe cuts himself off on questioning you to wake you up with the water sarah got. As you felt water being splashed on your face, you sit up. “what happened?” you groan. “y/n im so so sor-” ruthie starts to apologise but rafe cuts her off. “no. you shut the fuck up and stay away from my girl” rafe snaps causing topper to get involved. “hey now rafe-” but again rafe cuts him off. “control your bitch, top” he huffs shutting topper and everyone else up.

He lifts you up and walks towards his truck. “my head hurts..” you mumble. “i know baby.. gonna get you to the hospital aight” he gently whispers to you to which you just nod. With a final “don’t pull shit like that again” from rafe, he places you in the passengers seat before shutting the door and quickly going up to ruthie. “if i ever see you round my girl again… i’ll kill you” he murmurs up close to her face in a terrifyingly dangerous way. Apart from sarah and a few of the pogues, no one has ever seen rafe like that.. so scary.. so threatening… so murderous. Ruthie just nodded which was enough for rafe to leave the scene so he could take you to the hospital.

a/n: hope you enjoyed - kinda struggled to find a way to set the dynamic where reader is dating rafe but close to the pogues at this point in the show cuz i couldn’t see rafes defending someone so furiously unless he was dating her 😭

requests are open!! enjoy lovelies - liv <33

[shrimpybbq]

rafe and his pregnant high school gf! during her pregnancy

rafe and his high school gf used to spend hours by the pool during their summer break, but now it feels different as the pair lay on the pool chairs side by side

rafe can’t stop looking at his girl’s growing belly, the bump now large enough for all to clearly figure out what happened

the book she had been reading said his baby was the size of a banana or some shit, but ward keeps saying she’s going to have a big baby like rafe himself was

he hates to admit it, but he’s so turned on by the idea of her carrying his son in there (even if he didn’t really want the baby at first, he’s starting to see the benefits especially as he looks at her growing breasts)

after the ultrasound, he’s been so touchy and always finds a way to be near her

rafe getting his gf to come in the pool with him, just so he can hold her close and kiss her as much as he wants

rafe doesn’t fully understand pregnancy cravings, but he does try his best to help his girl by bringing her drinks and food so she doesn’t have to get up

he does get angry though when she wakes him up at night to tell him she’s craving a specific dish from the wreck. he gets so grumpy and isn’t being very nice when he notices the tears welling up in her eyes, his eyes widening as she begins to cry into his arms

rafe goes and gets her stupid meal from the wreck :)

rafe loves the reactions from the people at the country club when he brings high school gf to lunch one day. he’s got his hands around her waist as he walks through to the reserved table, smiling as the crowd start to whisper. yeah he did that, that’s his kid in there and no one can do anything about it

on a more canon note, after a fight with his dad, rafe gets super high on coke and disappears for a few days. he stumbles back to tannyhill on day 3 looking for his girl, only to find her sitting with Sarah worried and crying

he’s standing there with open arms saying “hey baby, why are you crying, I’m back” like an idiot thinking she’ll happily greet him

only to have her start screaming at him, crying and asking where he went for three days, Sarah rubbing her back soothingly and trying to calm her down. she’s telling him he can’t be doing that with a baby as she sobs

he’s so dumbfounded by her reaction that he can’t help but stare, but soon the pair are in a screaming match and rafe is hurling all sorts of insults at high school gf! (it’s his defence mechanism and even his gf isn’t protected from it)

rafe wakes up in his room later that day coming down from his high only to realise his gf has moved her things into the guest room, not wanting to be around him right now

he blames it on her hormones to topper and kelce, but part of him knows he fucked up really badly when she doesn’t move back to his room by the end of the week

[senseandaccountability]

HR department romance plots

I just… beyond the surface level of enjoying a new game with new relationship dynamics to explore, I really can’t feel much about the DAV companions or their romances.

They all just seem so disconnected from the story, from Rook (who in turn is entirely disconnected from all kinds of feelings because Rook is just Employee Of the Year), from the world, from themselves. I feel like Cole here, looking at them and saying in my gentle, fleeting voice: even the dwarves don’t really remember dwarves. It really feels like the interpersonal relationships are written by the HR person who sits with you as union rep to tell you that you should use a positive language, that "we are all simply employees here, it doesn't matter what title you have", give a little pep talk about teamwork and how to get the job done. That's what we're here for. Everyone's equal. We all want the same thing here, your boss is your friend. Have you tried talking to this person, see their side of things, mmmm? It's just... yeah, they're cute, all of them. But why do they like each other? Why do they want to be with Rook? Who are they even in relation to the world of Thedas, what do they believe in, what have they overcome, what do they hate, what sort of prejudices do they carry around? I have no idea.

And since I’m also replaying DAI again, I wanted to compare these romances to my canon romances in DAI.  With Blackwall, you immediately get a sense of attraction and a sort of flirting on his part that suggests this is something he falls into quite easily - “you know a lot about girls” to quote Cole - BUT it’s also something he really, really thinks he shouldn’t be doing now. Why? He is tied to the Warden plot, if you bring him along you get a sense of a man hiding shit but you don’t really understand what, and he still comes to see you (flying/climbing up your balcony wall idk) because he can’t step away. You get to tell him he’s a good man even though you know shit about that at this point, like with Anders in DA2 you can give your PC over to this passion/love despite knowing that there’s something off, something potentially harmful or dangerous. There is conflict, there are things that jar, that can even make you uncomfortable. 

Blackwall as a character is open and compassionate. He approves of mercy, shows mercy, he isn't judgmental of others. In sharp and delicious contrast Blackwall’s crime is vile. He isn’t bound by any sort of oath, he can back down, there is no greater good whatsoever in his actions. It’s inexcusable. And yet. YET. You can CONTINUE THE ROMANCE. He killed a wagon full of kids, THEN RAN AWAY AND LET HIS MEN TAKE THE BLAME and hates himself so much that he tries to become someone else by erasing his previous self from the face of the earth. You can still kiss him and tell him you want him to live and redeem himself. It’s fucking incredible to think about this in the light of Veilguard actually. Your LI, the child murdering coward. 

With Iron Bull you have the doubts all spread out on the table. He’s a spy, how could you ever trust him? He also doesn’t respond to your flirting, why the hell not when you hear through ambient dialogue that he’s fucking half the chantry, isn’t he supposed to be a fuckboy? But he’s fun, he’s a mystery, he’s got fascinating banter with everyone, he’s brought his found family along, he’s a Qunari who at least somewhat believes in the Qun - he’s got AMAZING conversations with Solas that characterizes Bull as deeply intelligent (and Solas as much more caring than he’d let on) and knowledgeable about surprising things like architecture. Cole, as always, gives us more insight into Bull’s mind along the way and even before the offer to ride the Bull, the idea of him has been through some adjustments. You change his idea about a lot of things and in return, Bull challenges your idea of him, your idea of the Qun, your idea of the world and possibly, depending on how you react to his romance, your idea of intimate relationships. The game’s writing allowed me to imagine a rather frumpy circle mage in her mid 30s reluctantly forming a friendship with this strange fellow, only to find herself very much attracted to him, only to find herself being cared for in a way she would never have let anyone do before simply because Bull told her that was the only way he’d be with her. This is how we’ll do it, are you in? Your LI, the service top Qunari spy who is terrified he’ll run mad without his belief system to dictate his actions. 

And Solas. I mean mythical love stories culminating in mythical endings aside, what I really fell for in this relationship was the refreshing dynamic not of enemies to lovers but of two souls just sort of connecting instantly during strange events, taking a few hard looks at each other and going oh shit it’s you, you get me HOW is it possible you get me when nobody else does? There’s so much external drama surrounding them, which is why I personally LOVE and ADORE how calm their internal connection actually is. They know, so early in the game, that this is it. You’re my home, you understand the bones of me, you ask questions no one else thinks of asking, you care about the world in a way I haven’t seen anyone else do. He is LITERALLY the only one who understands your Lavellan when they make her the herald, when she protests and they keep pushing and pulling and sing their song after Haven, and Solas is there to be sarcastic about it. If nothing else, I'd fall in love with that. And there’s this sense of impossibility from the very beginning, a sense of it being almost unreal because the first kiss is in the Fade, the second is in a frenzy where Solas goes from 0 to I LOVE YOU, MY HEART and then leaves and you know, you know how this is coded and YET - he seemed so wise and kind and sad, it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth. And even with this connection of souls, things chafe - he’s an absolute bastard about certain things, he mocks your heritage and you don’t know yet that it’s because a huge guilt blanket rests on top of him since thousands of years back, you can just argue back and receive his disapproval. He says it’s selfish of him to start anything with you yet he does - WHY DO YOU DO THAT, SAD EGG? Your LI, the ancient god of rebellion, treachery and lies, depending on the story. 

Even beyond my favourites, there are conflicts. Sera is A LOT (affectionate) if you're an elf, with Cullen you get a substance abuse story-line tied to his general dismay about his past as a really fucked up templar, Dorian has personal trauma and cultural prejudice he struggles with for the entire game, Vivienne is so complex half the fandom hates her and has very awkward and uncomfortable banters with almost everyone (save for Bull because he treats her like he would a tamassran), Cassandra is constantly challenged in her personal beliefs, very clearly reflected in her conversations with Solas and Cole has a whole personal plotline about deeply existentialist matters. What does it mean to be alive? Who is a person and who gets to decide that? He could have been a person, Varric says. Isn't he already? Does this unit have a soul? Not to mention that Cole functions chiefly as a speaker of truths, bringing a lot of complexity to the others. 

DAI is not perfect by any means but I feel like I know these bastards. I feel like my PC or even I could actively dislike some of them, because they are written to create dynamic conflicts inside and outside of their own arcs. I can write fic about them, I can imagine what they're doing during the events of DAV because I know them.

Because they are written like actual people in a world where some people have power over others and some people have been raised with a certain belief system and some people just have shitty takes on society, may they learn. 

[sanguineterrain]

professor pretty | charles xavier

Summary: You duck into a pub to escape a creep. Just when you've lost hope that you'll get to go home at all, a pretty-faced professor comes to your rescue.

Pairing: young!Charles Xavier x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings/tags: creepy guy intimidating reader, charles to the rescue, flirting, drinking, professor!reader, i tried to make it accurate to an english university and make him English but if there's any mistakes feel free to lmk.

this is a modern au in that movie canon is the same but they have cellphones here bc it's easier lol

the divider

There’s a man at the back of the pub, in a scary leather jacket and combat boots, and he won’t stop staring at you. 

Instinct tells you that he’s not going to let you leave either. 

You noticed him after you left the school. That’s what first pushed you into this pub across from the university. Now you’re parked on a stool. You really want to go home, but instead you’re sticking close to the frazzled barman who’s managing about thirty first years who are just jazzed about the new school year. 

You’ve ordered a pint, even though you’re not really a beer drinker, but when in Rome and all that. You’ve had about two sips. 

You sneak a look over your shoulder. The man is still there. Fuck.

“Could I have another pint, please? Cheers.” A man leans against the bar top, hand running through his light brown hair as if on instinct. You’ve seen him once this week, at the university, when you were trying to get your own classroom set up for the term. 

You don’t know his name or what he teaches, but you do know that he likes the poofy-haired, off-duty secretary in the red dress that came in about an hour earlier. And she seemed to like him back. You’re surprised he’s still here.

You rest your chin in your hand, watching detachedly as he orders. He’s got a nice smile and even nicer manners. Posh. Probably a jerk. 

“Hello.”

You look up. Professor Pretty Boy is standing closer to you, blue eyes warm. His smile fades as you look at him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, brows knitting in concern.

You sigh. “Yeah, great.”

The last thing you need is another guy screwing up your night. Even if this one is considerably better looking.

He rests his elbow against the bar top and pushes his finger against his temple. 

“Is someone bothering you?” he asks after a moment.

Your eyes widen. “How did you–?”

“I recognize the look. Fella in the corner, yeah?”

His words make you tense. You sneak a look back. The man is still there, though he’s now on the phone. 

“I think he’s going to follow me home if I try to leave,” you whisper. 

His eyes soften in concern. You watch him watch you. Then he seems to make a decision.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here, alright?”

He heads straight for the creep. You watch, slack-jawed, as your unsuspecting knight in a crisp, white button-up says a couple words to the man. Then they go outside. 

You turn around, guilt washing over you. What if he gets hurt?

Well, so what, says another part of you, it’s not like you told him to confront the guy.

But your knight returns in thirty seconds, every hair in place. He gracefully slides onto the stool next to you and takes a gulp of beer. Foam gathers on his upper lip. You can’t help your disbelieving smile.

“You’ve got…” You gesture to your mouth.

“Ah.” He takes a napkin and wipes his mouth, avoiding your gaze. Is he flustered? 

“There’s just no dignified way to drink a pint, I’ve learned,” he says, clearing his throat. He smiles at you, less rakish and more bashful. 

“How did you do that?” you ask. “He must’ve been there for half an hour.”

“Hm? Ah, well, I politely explained that that sort of behavior isn’t tolerated here, and that I was very happy to call the police.”

Your brows rise. “Wow. He seemed determined to stay.”

“I can be very persuasive, I’ve been told. Oh! How rude of me.” He sticks out his hand. “My name is Charles. Charles Xavier.”

You shake his hand. It’s cool and soft. You tell him your name. He repeats it softly.

“It’s very nice to meet you, though I wish we’d met through better circumstances,” Charles says.

You nod. “Me too. But thank you, seriously.”

“No thanks necessary. Men should let others live in peace.”

“Words of the century,” you say, raising your glass.

“Cheers,” Charles says, clinking your glasses together. 

You both take a drink. You’re considerably more relaxed. And no, you’re not really Professor Xavier’s type, but you like the company. At least for tonight. 

“So, are you visiting?” he asks. “Pardon my saying, but you don’t sound…”

“Like you?” You playfully raise an eyebrow.

His eyes widen. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve only been here a week, actually. I took a teaching position at the university.”

“You don’t say! I teach here too. What are you teaching? Wait, no, let me guess…”

Charles squints in concentration, putting his hand to his forehead. “Hmm… ah! Women’s literature?”

You shake your head. “You’re on a roll, seriously. I’m in awe.”

Charles waves you off. “You’re too kind. I’m just perceptive.”

And there’s a pinch of something in your gut, something that tells you that it’s more than good perception. But you don’t detect any malice in Charles. In fact, you feel nothing but kindness and genuine interest emanating from his gaze. 

“Well, let’s see if you’ll go two for two. What author am I teaching first?”

Charles smiles at you knowingly, and you’re sure he’s about to say it.

“Oh, I haven’t a clue. Hmm… Ms. Austen?”

You laugh. “No, I’m very sure that the students at Pembroke have gotten their fill of Austen in their A-levels. Do you give up?”

He grins. “Yes, I do. Tell me all about it, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for a quitter, Charles.”

“I know when I’m beat,” he says softly, and the tips of his fingers touch yours. 

To your surprise, you don’t pull away, even though getting involved with a professor your first week would be bad.

But there’s something magnetic about him.

“I was thinking I’d teach The Haunting of Hill House.”

Charles raises his brows. “Horror? My, my. Quite a first impression. I like it.”

“Got to make it memorable, don’t I?”

“I don’t think you’ll have trouble with that,” he says. Your face warms under his incessant charm. “You’ll get on fine here. I’ve been teaching for a few years. My sister keeps pushing me to find a place in America, but I have a hard time letting go of the familiar.”

“I bet you’re popular here,” you say, and Charles immediately catches onto your meaning.

“Heh, well…” Charles purses his lips mischievously. “Ahem. I try to make the course engaging, especially since I teach graduate courses. But I’m a homebody, truly. It’s my sister who pulls me out here, and one thing leads to another, and I get to meet lovely new lecturers with impeccable literary taste.”

You turn and focus on your all but abandoned beer, tracing shapes into the condensation and hoping you’ll get some reserve back.

“Does this charming routine work on everyone?” 

Charles laughs. “Actually, my routine is something like, um…” 

He leans in, half-lidded. “I have all the time in the world for a darling with the TCHH gene. You would call it curly hair, I call it a mutation. A most alluring mutation, mind you—you see, mutations are what took us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form of reproductive life on the planet. And being that it’s my field of study, and I take my studies very seriously, I would love to explore what other genetic wonders you’ve been gifted with.”

It’s quiet for several moments. Then you begin to giggle. Charles schools his expression, feigning indignance. 

“And what’s so funny?”

“You’re not serious,” you say. “Does that really work?”

“I don’t know why you’re laughing—it has a nine out of ten success rate,” Charles says, sticking his nose up. “People like genetic facts.”

“I think they like your pretty face more than the facts, Professor.”

You wince as you realize what you’ve said. Charles pounces immediately.

“Apologies, I can’t hear you very well in this loud pub… did you say my face is pretty?”

“Oh, put a sock in it,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

That draws a full laugh from him, face scrunching in delight. You smile back, shaking your head.

You check your phone out of habit, feeling like it’s been a long time and… holy hell! 11:46. You curse, scraping your stool back.

“Dammit, dammit. I’ve got a lecture tomorrow morning! I’m so sorry, Charles, I have to go.”

You hadn’t meant to stay so long, but the stranger had frightened you, and then you’d met Charles, and…

But you stop short upon seeing the door because of the terrifying thought of the stranger waiting outside for you.

Charles must sense your hesitance. “I can drive you home.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m only a ten minute walk away,” you say, but it’s weak.

He puts a hand on your back. The touch is fleeting, but he’s warm through your shirt. 

“Then I’ll walk with you. I love walking. And the rain will come soon—got to take advantage of clear nights.”

You look at him. He already has his coat. You suddenly remember the woman he’d followed to the back table. 

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have a…”

“She wasn’t interested,” Charles says, back to his perceptive ways. His gaze is fond. “I’d rather walk with you, anyway.”

“You’ve already charmed me, Charles,” you say as he walks you out of the pub.

“No charm,” he says simply, holding the door for you. “Just being honest, darling.”

You feel infinitely better on the way home. Charles keeps your spirits high, providing you with endless advice and assurances for your new job. 

You go up the steps, taking out your key to the flat. 

“Look, um…” 

You stop and turn. Charles follows you up. He starts to touch your arm, then stops. He straightens his tie instead.

“If you see that man again, or someone like him. Someone who doesn’t look right. Promise you’ll tell me, alright? You can reach me on my mobile any time.”

He hands you a card. Charles Xavier, Mutant Expert. Huh.

You look at him, fear returning. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, he won’t bother you. But if… I don’t know. Never mind. No, I’m worrying you. I’m just making you paranoid. Forget that.”

You shrug. “You’re keeping me safe. I like that.”

Charles chews the inside of his lip for a second. Then he leans in and kisses your cheek. You inhale sharply. 

His thumb lingers on your jaw before he pulls away completely.

“Good night,” he says, pupils dilated in the dim light. 

“Good night, Charles. Thank you.”

“Any time. And if you just want to go for a pint, that number isn’t just for emergencies.” 

“Are you that sure of yourself?” you ask, hand on your hip.

“No.” He smirks. “I just happen to be very perceptive.”

[fumifooms]

I don’t like minimizing the importance and gravity of Laios and Toshiro’s fight into just being a childish squabble, even if to a degree it is framed that way, because to both of them it has a lot of personal significance and emotional weight and runs very deep to their characters… The fight isn’t nothing it’s a LOT, they made up but it’s not something easy to express and to get over for either of them which makes it all the more meaningful! I’m on both sides but there very much are sides, there’s no "they’re both having a ball, Toshiro and Laios hand in hand yay" side to the fight, that comes after

The fight with Toshiro WAS very scary to Laios, almost existentially so, but it’s moreso the "I thought I’d made a friend!!" bit and my god. My god actually

Like it’s not "just" about oh his friend liking him less than he thought, THAT IS SO MUCH. It’s a bond he thought he had being a lie it’s all the time and moments spent together either being a lie from his perspective or marred now looking back. It’s not only being upset at Toshiro for lying but upset at himself that he’s so easy to fool, it’s being upset that there’s something so wrong with you that you can’t even tell if your "close buddy" even actually likes you or not, it’s like. Holding my head. He can’t trust his own vision of events that happened do you see. There’s always this film of distrust that it could be a lie that should be there when he interacts with people there’s always this sense of cloak and dagger to expect backstabs out of nowhere because you CAN’T see it coming you CAN’T you CAN’T there’s something about you which makes it impossible so you CAN’T-

He’s so scared of not being able to read people. He knows it’s a weak spot he has, he’s always known. All of these bits are centered around social expectations and betrayals, the assumption that he doesn’t belong either in society or with other humans.

And Laios’ level of awareness is actually sort of complex to analyze, but it’s there, there’s how out of him and Falin he was the one sensitive to the ~aura of hatred~ he felt from the townspeople, there’s of course his nightmares whispering to him about the mocking looks, and how yeah actually he realizes that his gold stripper coworker was taking advantage of him. There’s of course the Winged Lion speech about his trauma and how he fundamentally mistrusts/dislikes humans to some deep seated degree, this distrust that he still keeps under control always. There’s how pre-canon he often wanted to suggest eating monsters but never worked up the courage to bring it up with the others. There���s how he gets across as stoic when he isn’t being enthusiastic…… We don’t know how aware and wary he is exactly in the moment but we do know he has some anxiety around social stuff, and looking back he does notice and aughh augh, the sense you have to hide yourself to not get hurt and be on your guard and shit and.

When you don’t know what to look out for and when to look out for it, the general ‘common sense’ of not always trusting people or noticing when someone’s messing with you becomes hypervigilance in social settings

"Man they really know what you hate huh". Being socially unaware literally plagues him, he knows, he knows it so well.

It’s so quick that it’s almost hard to digest how literal and blatant Laios summoning his monster to crush all the people who’ve hurt him is. His literal go-to coping mechanism for comfort in his literal monster-induced emotionally intense nightmares, saving him by taking away the upsetting element (the humans)

"Monsters are his coping fantasy, where they can whisk him away from humanity, all the hurt it’s caused him and its arbitrary rules" with the subtlety of a brick. Monsters are his comfort safe zone "because they kill humans" yes but no it’s because he pits them as the guardians against humans who to him are in the role of the agressors. To him they represent freedom from the shackles of what it means to be part of humanity, a fundamentally social species

[prentissluvr]

warm brown jacket — sam winchester

for : 200+ followers event [ open ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : major fluff, friends to lovers ➖⟢ cw : mentions of canon typical gore, violence, and bloodiness at the very beginning, mentions of being casually shirtless around each other kind of?, dean teasing a little, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.3K prompt : sharing clothes in a totally (not) friendly way

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

you’re used to the grime and gore of the job; you don’t really have much of a choice. but the whole front and back of your shirt and jacket are so unpleasantly sticky from a horrid concoction of blood, mud, and maybe more, that your fingers itch to peel the layers from your body as you head for the car. of course, you’re just going to tough it out until you can shower and change at the motel. you know that sam and dean will let you take the first shower tonight; they’re not the ones who beheaded a vampire then got shoved into a mud puddle by a second right along with the decapitated body gushing blood from it’s stump of a neck. it sucked, to say the least.

you can’t resist pulling your jacket off, and you’re lucky that it gets rid of most of the mud. but it’s the front of your shirt that took the brunt of the blood, and it’s sticking to your skin, warm and just about dreadful. there’s a rustle beside you coming from sam, and you don’t have to look over to know the sounds of him taking off that big brown carhartt jacket. your favorite.

it’s only when he nudges you, holding the fabric out for you to take do you look at him. he’s got that pretty, borderline awkward smile when he’s trying to be subtly sweet. he doesn’t want to make you feel self-conscious about the mess on your clothes, but your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt and the grimace on your face that’s so subtle just about no one else but him could spot it, and he knows instantly that the stickiness of your clothes is bothering you.

you smile at him, not too wide so you don’t accidentally show him that he makes you feel in love, and accept the jacket with one hand. you’re trying to maneuver your own mess of a jacket away, but sam takes it from you with a soft, “here, i got it,” as you near the car.

“thank you, sam,” you say, pausing at the door so you can shrug the much cleaner layer on without being confined to the small car.

“course,” he replies, all casual and kind as if he isn’t dying to see you put the jacket on. then he remembers his manners. “dean and i’ll look away if you wanna,” he forgets how to be smooth for a moment, clearing his throat as he gestures vaguely to your bloody shirt, “you know, get rid of the shirt too. ‘m sure the blood’s worse than the mud.”

“right, of course. don’t wanna get the inside of your jacket covered in the blood anyways,” you agree, glad sam said something about that because you weren’t quite sure what to do. you certainly didn’t want to keep the shirt on, and you’ve been shirtless around the boys plenty before because of the way you live out of motel rooms, but with sam so close like this, waiting for you to put on his jacket, you feel the tips of your ears go flaming hot at the idea of taking your shirt off without some sort of awkward warning. this way, sam’s being an utter gentleman and taking the shot for you when it comes to who’s the most awkward this time around.

sam gives you his silly, pursed-lip smile and his dimples pop out and all you want is to kiss them til they never go away. he slides into the car, and as the door shuts closed, you turn your back to the impala, tuck the jacket between your knees, and shimmy the mess of a shirt off your body. a chill of air hits your sort of blood-wet skin, making you shiver before you can drop the ruined shirt and pull the warm layer over yourself. but the second the soft fabric is over your shoulders, then around your arms and torso, it’s sweet heaven. sam’s body heat lingers, warming you in an instant and pushing a sigh of relief from your parted lips.

the time-worn softness of the fabric is glorious after such uncomfortable textures, and though the metal of the zipper is a little chilly against your stomach as you close the jacket around you, you couldn’t care less about that. 

a moment later, you’re settled into the back seat, trying not to look at sam to see if he’s taking in how you look in his favorite jacket. instead, you catch dean’s eye through the rearview mirror and he sends you a teasing wink that has you stuck between rolling your eyes at him and flat out planting your face into your hands to hide.

the ride is quiet save the few minutes in a fast food drive-through. dean grumbles about the restaurant’s lack of pie as he drives off in the direction of the motel.

standing in the motel room, you hate to take off the jacket, but it’s a must if you want to shower and get the rest of the day's grime off of you and down the drain. sam’s already assured you that you don’t need to wash it for him, so you leave it on the foot of your shared bed before you head to the shower. you know that he likes to pack up any piece of clothing he isn’t using right away.

you try to keep your shower short for the sake of your companions, though it's difficult when the hot water feels so comforting and cleansing. even so, being back in your own clean clothes afterwards is certainly nice as you leave the bathroom after brushing your teeth and running through your short post-shower routine.

sam’s sitting at the table across the room and dean stands from his bed, ready to shower next. you’re expecting to mourn the loss of the jacket on your bed, but your eyes immediately fall on the nicely folded bundle of brown fabric placed neatly by your pillow. unable to resist, you walk to it and pick it up, placing it on your lap as you sit on the edge of the bed. you try to catch sam’s eye to silently ask what he means by leaving it there, but it almost feels as if he’s avoiding your gaze in favor of staring at the book in front of him.

since you can’t get sam’s attention, you turn to dean before he can go, but all you get is a sly smile before he disappears into the bathroom. 

it has got to be your raging crush on pretty boy over there, sitting so close and far all at once, that’s making you jump to silly conclusions. but the barely visible blush on his cheeks, his refusal to look up when he heard you pick up the jacket, and dean’s knowing look makes it feel like sam wants you to put that jacket back on. and you do too.

so, you stand and turn as if you’re not looking at sam anymore, but you’re careful to keep him visible out of the corner of your eye as you unfold the fabric and put it back on. the ac is too strong; it’s cold, you tell yourself that’s enough of an excuse.

if you could tuck sam’s pretty brown hair behind his ears like you so often get the urge to, you bet the tips would be pink. even with his face half blurry in your peripheral, you can see the look he's giving you, because he is looking now. it’s an expression you don’t see on him often at all; he’s the kind of guy to always school his features away from betraying what he thinks and wants. this time, it’s loud and clear and you can feel it as much as see it. you, wrapped up safe and warm in his jacket, are exactly what he wants. 

you think you’re gonna kiss him, and he’s gonna kiss you back with his hands clutching at that soft brown fabric to be sure it’s all real and glorious like he thinks it is.

[mononijikayu]

last christmas — gojo satoru and geto suguru

"Don’t make me regret this, Satoru." you mumble, your face warm. “We’re gonna have fun, but in a way we all would enjoy, okay?” “Hm, as you say, senpai!” He replies, still heavily enthusiastic. Suguru, still lying on the other side of the air mattress, lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Great. Now we’re all going, aren’t we?" "Obviously, Suguboo!" Satoru replies, his grin widening as he hops off your side. "I mean, what’s a theme park trip without all my best friends?" “Hey, don’t call me Suguboo.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, angst, fluff, humor, comfort, anxiety, lgbtqia+, friendship, found family, conflicted feelings, break up, noted romantic attraction, flashback, loss, light hearted, hurt/comfort, hurt, physical touch, mentioned character death, trauma, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, pining, sleep over, theme park, overworking, burnt out, nightmares, mentioned character deaths, mentioned trauma, this is the theme park episode folks;

WORD COUNT: 17k words

NOTE: i wanted to continue the past pov between satoru and suguru and this came to mind. i think there will be more on their holidays together but i liked this a lot because i think they'll have this sort of healthy dynamic when it came to their work before hidden inventory. anyway, i hope you enjoy it. happy holidays!!! i love you all <3

box it up, christmas hun! (santa kayu 2024)

main masterlist

us and them

if you want to, tip! <3

THERE HASN’T BEEN A DAY WHEN YOU WEREN’T CALLED INTO A PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE. But that was to be expected. In the line of work you have endured as a sorcerer since a child has made you too used to the situation.

But you felt something different when you entered the Yaga Masamichi’s office this time around. No, everything about this moment was different. Was it the fact that fall was ending and that winter was coming? Or was it his awful cologne choice? Perhaps you will never know. 

“You’re being given leave for the holidays.”

“Huh?”

“You’re not going to receive any winter missions.”

“Are you fucking around with me?”

The air in Yaga Masamichi’s office feels thick, heavy with the tension of your argument. You stand in front of his desk, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your frustration barely contained. Yaga, however, looks entirely unfazed as he reclines in his chair, his large frame a picture of unyielding authority.

"You’ve never taken a day off as a sorcerer. And you never ask for it. It’s high time you were given time off." he says again, voice calm but resolute, like he’s speaking to a stubborn child. "You’re not getting another mission right now. That’s final. The higher ups approved it."

You grit your teeth, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "I don’t need a day off. Do you even hear yourself? Sitting around doing nothing isn’t going to help anyone. Do you know how many grade one sorcerers and grade two sorcerers are going to be dealing with all the cases I don’t do? They need me out there, Yaga!" 

Your voice rises with every word, the sheer unfairness of the situation gnawing at your composure. But Yaga doesn’t budge. His dark eyes remain steady, rooted, as if absorbing your outburst without so much as a ripple.

"What they need right now," he replies evenly, determination heavy in his eyes. "is a sorcerer who can stay on their feet. You’re overworked, and you know it. I’ve let it slide long enough, but this stops here."

"You don’t get it—" you start, but he raises a hand, cutting you off mid-sentence.

"No, you don’t get it, do you?" he interrupts, his voice dropping into a firmer register that makes you flinch, just slightly. "I’ve seen too many sorcerers burn themselves out thinking they can handle everything. They push and push, and then one day, they can’t anymore. I’m not about to let you be one of them."

You shake your head vehemently. "I’m not like the others. I can handle this. I have been handling this!"

"And that’s exactly why you need to stop right now." he counters, leaning forward slightly, his tone softening just a fraction. "You may not want to hear this, but you’re not invincible. Everyone has a limit, and you’re closer to yours than you think. Take a step back before it’s too late."

You glare at him, desperation bubbling up alongside your anger. You refuse to accept this—there has to be another way. "Gakuganji would give me the mission, you know?" you mutter, your voice sharp and petulant.

Yaga snorts, his lips twitching in what might have been amusement if the situation weren’t so serious. "I’m not Gakuganji." he says bluntly. "And thank the gods for that."

His words strike a nerve, and you spin around to face him fully, your fists clenched at your sides. "Why are you doing this? You’re supposed to support us—support me! How am I supposed to just sit around and do nothing while curses are out there hurting people?"

"Because I care about you." Yaga replies simply. His gaze softens slightly, but the steel in his voice remains. "And whether you believe it or not, I care about you. You may not understand that, I know. But you can’t destroy yourself like this. You’re a good sorcerer, but you need to learn to take care of yourself first.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and unrelenting. You look away, your jaw tight, frustration still burning in your chest. But there’s no arguing with him now. His mind is made up, and deep down, you know he’s right. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“And I imagine that you’re father would want—”

"Fine, fine." you mutter begrudgingly, stuffing your hands into your pockets. "But don’t come crying to me when someone screws up the mission I could’ve handled."

Yaga exhales through his nose, a sound that’s almost—but not quite—a laugh. "I’ll take my chances with that gamble." he says, turning back to the stack of paperwork on his desk.

As you storm out of his office, shaking your head in disappointment, you could only find yourself in the silence. You couldn’t help but slam the door as hard as you could behind you, summarizing his parting words linger in your mind: Take the time off. That’s an order.

And for the first time in a long while, you’re left with nothing to do but obey. You cursed under your breath, looking at the sunset filled sky. You hated this. Now you’ll be stuck remembering those bright beaming fireworks, those annoyingly loud sing along carols and most of all, the falling snow as she said goodbye.

══════════════════

OF COURSE, YOU HAVEN’T CALMED DOWN. But there was nothing you could do about it. You had to start thinking about something to do. Or maybe try to argue about this.

You haven’t really thought about it concretely yet. But you had to do something, you just had to. A soft sigh left your lips. You really should have brought cigarettes with you.

The vending machine hums softly as you press the button, a can of something fizzy clattering into the slot below. You grab it, sit down heavily on the nearby bench, and crack it open with a sigh.

The sunset paints the sky in hues of orange and purple, but it does little to brighten your mood. You’re sulking, and you know it, but right now, you don’t care.

All of the known Kyoto missions you had your eye on—all of them—had been reassigned. Even the dangerous ones, the ones you knew you could handle. And what stings the most? Even the Special Grade missions had gone to others, like they were prizes you weren’t worthy of claiming or having whatsoever. 

You know you shouldn’t sulk but you couldn’t help it. Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, of course, had gotten their fair share. And they deserve it. They get the job done well enough, for second years. It’s not that you didn’t think they deserved it. They do.

But you were their senior. And you were older. Aren’t you supposed to be doing more, so they won’t have to? You had more experience than them in this field. You were a special grade sorcerer too. Why did you have to be treated differently than them? Weren’t you doing so well? Weren’t you enough?

You liked working, it’s why you haven’t stopped since you were younger. But you also don’t want to think about what the winter holidays were going to be like. You don’t want it to be stagnant. You don’t want to sit around and think. You don’t. You don’t even want to think about the prospect of having to go back to Zenin Manor for the holidays. 

If your schedule isn’t full, that old geezer is going to force you to attend the banquet. You wouldn't have an excuse. And knowing that, they’ll end up forcing you into a man and you don’t want to get married. Not just yet. You don’t want to end up marrying this winter. You bit your lip shakily in anger. 

“Ugh, why did this have to happen right now?” You whisper to yourself, kicking the stone wall. “This is so stupid!”

“Hey, senpai! Don’t kick the stone wall like that. It did nothing to you.”

You stopped, feeling your eyes narrow. The crunch of footsteps on gravel catches your attention as much as the voice did.  You glance up to see none other than the pair themselves. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru were going towards you, strolling back into campus.

They’re still in their mission gear, looking far too relaxed for two people who’ve just returned from exorcising curses. Geto has a quiet, composed expression as usual, his long hair tied neatly back. Gojo, on the other hand, is grinning like he’s just been handed the keys to the world.

The moment Gojo Satoru spots you even closer, his grin widens. Your eyes narrow enough at him that it looks like you were glaring at him. You were still too sulky. And now that you were running out of sugar, you were getting cranky too. You ought to drink your drink soon.

"Well, well, well, Suguru." Satoru says, nudging Suguru with his elbow and wearing that ever-present smirk. "Look who we have here, moping by the vending machines. Did Yaga–sensei finally ban you from missions, senpai?"

You glare at him over the rim of your can, letting the cold metal press against your lips but refusing to dignify his teasing with a response. The hiss of carbonation cuts through the silence as you crack open the soda with a force that sends foam fizzing up brutishly.

Satoru blinks at you, then shifts his gaze to Suguru, who seems to pick up on the same thing. A rare flicker of actual concern crosses his face.

“Wait, are you actually serious, senpai?” Gojo’s voice loses some of its usual playfulness. “Did he really?”

Suguru sighs, glancing at you with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. “Hey, don’t be too insensitive. Senpai looks upset.”

Satoru tilts his head, still watching you carefully. For a moment, there’s no teasing, just quiet curiosity, as if he’s waiting for you to break the silence and explain. But you didn’t speak just yet. Instead, you opted to drink the carbonated drink for a little bit. They just let you drink it and watched as you put it down. 

Suguru, ever the perceptive one, raises an eyebrow as he approaches. "Something wrong, senpai?" His tone is even, but there’s a flicker of genuine concern in his gaze.

"Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry about me." you mutter, though the tension in your voice betrays your words. 

You take a long sip of your drink, letting the fizzy sweetness settle on your tongue before sighing and lowering yourself onto one of the cold metal benches. The bench creaks slightly under your weight, the chill biting through your clothes, but you barely register it.

"Just... no missions for me for a while." you say, the words coming out slower this time, like you’re forcing yourself to say them. "Yaga’s decided I need to take a break for the winter." You pause, glancing down at the soda can in your hands, the logo on it blurry from condensation.

"He didn’t even ask me about it. That’s what I feel bitter about." you continue, a wry, humorless smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "He filed a leave on my behalf with the higher-ups. Said it was for my own good. And... well, it’s been accepted."

You huff out a short laugh, but it’s devoid of mirth. "Can you believe that? A forced vacation. Like I’m some kind of liability."

The words linger in the crisp air, heavy and bitter. For a moment, neither Satoru nor Suguru speaks, their usual banter replaced with an uneasy silence. Even Satoru’s trademark smirk falters slightly, his bright eyes narrowing in rare seriousness as he processes what you just said. Suguru crosses his arms, his expression softening as he looks at you.

"That... doesn’t sound like Yaga–sensei at all." Suguru says quietly, his tone laced with concern. "There’s gotta be more to it than that."

Satoru tilts his head, studying you carefully. "He’s probably just worried about you, senpai. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately."

You shrug, unwilling to acknowledge their words. Instead, you take another sip of your drink, letting the cold fizz distract you from the frustration simmering in your chest. “I suppose. But I would have liked to have a conversation about that. Maybe I’ll consider it.”

Liar. You thought to yourself for a moment. You never would have considered it. That’s why you take breaks, you foolish liar.

Suguru takes a seat on your other side, his presence calm and steady, like an anchor in the swirling storm of your thoughts. "He’s probably just looking out for you, senpai. Yaga-sensei’s strict about things, sure. But he’s not unfair. Maybe he’s seen something we haven’t."

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck as frustration ripples through you. "I don’t think I stick around long enough for him to notice anything about me."

"It’s probably because you’re always out in the field, senpai." Satoru chimes in, his voice lighter now as he presses a button on the vending machine with exaggerated care. "I think he notices that."

The quiet sincerity in his words catches you off guard, and for a moment, you blink at him, then at the can in your hand. "Possibly." you murmur, though your tone is uncertain.

Suguru smiles gently, a knowing look in his eyes. "Still, I get it. Sitting out isn’t easy when you’re used to being in the thick of it all the time, senpai."

You nod slowly, letting his words sink in. "It’s not just that." you admit, the bitterness in your voice softening. "It’s like... if I’m not out there, if I’m not doing something, I don’t know what to do with myself. It feels... wrong, like I’m slacking off or abandoning my responsibilities."

And I don’t wanna think about her. You want to say. I don’t want to go home either. I don’t want to suffer being alone.

Satoru pops open his own drink, taking a swig before glancing back at you. "That’s not slacking, senpai." he says, his tone uncharacteristically even. "Taking a break isn’t quitting. Yaga–sensei wouldn’t do this if he didn’t think it was important."

Suguru nods in agreement. "He’s not punishing you. He’s trying to make sure you’re okay. Sometimes, even the strongest of us need to step back and breathe for a bit."

Their words hang in the air, soft but unwavering, and for the first time in a while, you feel the tight knot of frustration in your chest begin to loosen—just a little. You sigh, slumping further down on the bench. You groaned.

"Kyoto missions are being handed out like candy. Even the Special Grade ones! And guess who’s getting them? The two of you."

Suguru snickered. “I doubt that it’s something enjoyable as eating candy, senpai.”

"Meanwhile, I’m stuck here with nothing to do but wait." You were pouting at this point.

Satoru snickers, leaning back. "Jealous, are we? Don’t worry, senpai.  I’ll bring you a souvenir from my next mission. Maybe a curse sword or something. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It’s about to be Christmas anyway—"

"Satoru." Suguru says warningly, giving him a pointed look.

"What?" Satoru shrugs, still grinning as he holds his drink close. "I’m just trying to cheer senpai up, Satoru."

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I don’t need cheering up. I need to be useful."

Suguru leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now. "You are useful. Missions come and go, but pushing yourself too hard won’t make things better. Yaga–sensei’s just giving you some breathing room. It doesn’t mean you’re being left behind."

"Yeah, senpai." Satoru chimes in, his tone surprisingly genuine this time. "Don’t take it too personally. Even I need a break sometimes. Well, not really, but you get the idea."

You glance between them, your frustration still simmering, but their words start to sink in, just a little. Maybe they’re right—maybe this isn’t the end of the world. But for now, you still can’t shake the sting of being benched. You shake your head.

"Whatever." you mutter, taking another sip of your drink. "Just don’t rub it in."

Satoru smirks, nudging your shoulder. "No promises."

Suguru sighs, shaking his head. "Let’s just get you off this bench before you start growing roots. Come on—we’ll grab some food. Satoru’s treat."

You raised a brow as you looked at Satoru. “Oh? You’re opening your wallet?”

“If that would make our amazing beloved senpai stop sulking, the Gojo Satoru infinite wallet will appear.” Satoru says, pulling out his wallet with a maniacal laugh. “You can order as much as you can, senpai. I’ll pay for it. Just smile, okay?”

You looked at him for a moment before you ended up laughing. You finally nodded at them. Satoru pumps his arm out as he says yes. Suguru shakes his head at Satoru’s antics, but smiles. Reluctantly, you let them pull you to your feet. Maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem. Maybe.

Before long, the three of you walk toward a nearby ramen restaurant, the sounds of crickets beginning to fill the evening air. Satoru stretches his arms lazily behind his head, his glasses pushed up just enough to reveal the playful glint in his eyes. Suguru walks beside you, his steady presence a contrast to Satoru’s boundless energy.

“Where’s Shoko?” You asked, turning to Suguru. “I thought she would be with you two.”

“She’s stuck with the Reversed Curse Technique sensei.” Suguru says, his hands resting in his pockets. “Apparently she couldn’t get it right on a leg, so the sensei’s making her do it again.”

“Huh, I would have thought she would have gotten it right by now.” You furrowed your brows. “I sent her the scrolls on it.”

“Probably just some sensei trying to make it harder on Sho.” Satoru says, looking at you. “I mean, wasn’t it that way with our hand to hand combat sensei last year?”

“I didn’t like that guy.” Suguru admitted, shaking his head. “He wasn’t at all considerate of Shoko and made her suffer.”

“If he wasn’t a vassal of the Zenin, he wouldn’t have a job here anymore.” You retorted to the two of them. “He was also bad when he taught us.”

Suguru looked at you. “Hehhhh, so he taught you too, senpai.”

“Well, yes. But we didn’t learn much from him.”

"So, senpai." Satoru says, breaking the conversation away. "If you're not doing missions, what are you doing? Sitting around moping by vending machines? Because, honestly, it’s not a great look for you."

You roll your eyes back at him. "I’ll be training. I’ll be visiting my mother at her shrine. I need to  keep my edge. And I don’t want to be stuck at home. What’s the point if I’m not putting it to use? It’s not like curses are going to exorcise themselves."

Suguru hums thoughtfully. "Training’s not a bad way to spend your time. Besides, if Yaga–sensei’s forcing you to take a break, you might as well use it to focus on something else. A new technique, maybe. You’ve been talking about improving your cursed energy output, haven’t you, senpai?"

You glance at him, surprised he remembered. "Yeah, I guess. Still doesn’t feel the same without the real stakes."

Satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "You’ve gotta chill, you know? Not every second of your life has to be spent on the front lines. Take a page from my book, senpai! Go and live a little! Relax, enjoy the quiet moments. You can’t win all the glory if you’re burned out."

"Easy for you to say." you grumble, shrugging off his arm. "Everyone’s different, you know that?”

Satoru’s grin falters for just a second, so brief you almost miss it. But he recovers it almost as soon as it happens. You blinked at that. "Sure." he says, his voice lighter than it was a moment ago. "But even I have to deal with Yaga–sensei breathing down my neck sometimes. Guy acts like I’m gonna self-destruct or something."

"Wonder why." Suguru mutters under his breath, earning a snicker from you.

By the time you reach the ramen restaurant, your mood has lightened, if only slightly. The warm glow of the lights and the faint smell of food wafting through the air feel comforting, a small reminder that life isn’t all missions and curses. 

Satoru insists on ordering for everyone which  was much to your dismay because he wanted to choose the desserts menu first, while Suguru sits across from you, watching him with a faintly amused expression.

"You know, senpai." Suguru says as Satoru bounds off toward the counter. "He’s not entirely wrong. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. Least of all us kouhai. You’ve done more than enough between us combined. You deserve some rest too."

"That’s not what this is about, though." you say, picking at the edge of the table. "It’s just… I hate feeling useless. And I hate not doing anything too. It’s like I’m sitting on the sidelines while everyone else is out there making a difference, doing something."

Suguru leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "No one thinks you’re useless. You’re one of the strongest sorcerers here, senpai. Don’t let a temporary setback make you forget that. Yaga–sensei’s decision isn’t a punishment; it’s a reminder to pace yourself. You’ll be back out there soon enough."

Before you can respond, Satoru reappears, balancing a heavy tray full of abundant food with one hand like it’s a prize. You blinked as two other staff followed behind him, carrying just as heavy of a load on the trays they were holding. 

"Alright, feast time! And guess what—I got you your favorite." He sets the tray down with a flourish, smirking when you reluctantly take the plate he hands you.

"Thanks, Satoru." you mumble, trying not to sound too grateful.

As the three of you dig into your food, the conversation shifts to lighter topics—Satoru’s  latest antics, Suguru’s commentary on his poor decision-making, and a few inside jokes that make you laugh despite yourself. For a little while, you forget about the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Maybe Suguru’s right about this. Maybe this isn’t the end of the world. It’s just one time. You were sure that it would go by just as fast as it happened. You take a sip of your soup, trying to enjoy the warmth it pools on your mouth. 

And as Satoru leans back in his chair, telling some exaggerated story about a curse he fought, and Suguru trying to correct him about the facts, you couldn’t help but smile at them.

They’ll probably do fine with your missions. Everything will be fine. And so, now, ever so slowly, you think that maybe, just maybe, this break won’t be so bad after all.

══════════════════

YOU BEGGED GAKUGANJI TO LIE TO THE ZENIN. You received the message to come back home a few days ago, the annual winter banquet looming over you like a heavy cloud. The thought of returning made your stomach churn.

You didn’t want to deal with Naoya’s smug, incessant taunts, nor your uncles’ cold glares, each one assessing you like a potential threat or disappointment.

And you certainly didn’t want to endure your drunken grandfather pushing every eligible man in the clan in your direction, urging you to “secure the Zenin legacy.”

At least Gakuganji had relented this time after you wore him down with incessant pleas to be excused from the banquet. He had sighed heavily, grumbled about your stubbornness, and waved you off with a reluctant nod. That victory, however small, was bittersweet.

In the same breath, you decided not to visit your mother for the rest of December either. Word traveled fast, and if the Zenin found out where you were, they’d harass her endlessly until she felt cornered, forced to surrender you back to their grasp. You couldn’t let that happen. Protecting her from their influence was one of the few things you could still control.

So, you opted to stay in your own house. Alone. Indefinitely.

At first, the solitude was welcome, a reprieve from the expectations and judgment that seemed to follow you everywhere. But the days off began to pile up like a slow-moving curse, each one heavier and more suffocating than the last. The stillness clung to you, creeping under your skin.

And that craving to work, to go out and seek danger. To seek out curses. You could feel each and every one of them. There’s one from your apartment block, from a building growing bigger and bigger.

There’s another just a few miles away, eating away the anguish of humanity. But you know you can’t do much about it. Not when they would know your cursed energy. They would recognize it. That would ensure Yaga will hear about it. He would annoy you even more. And you don’t want that.

But just as much, you don’t want a break. You want to work. You need to work. The idle hours claw at you, dragging you into places you’ve been avoiding for too long. You like the chaos of missions—the distractions, the sense of purpose, the way they keep your mind too busy to wander.

Without the missions, the silence becomes unbearable. And in that silence, the nightmares return.

You see her smile again. That sick twisted, stupid smile that lingers in the dark corners of your mind. It’s the kind of smile that hides something cruel, something broken. You can almost hear the fireworks bursting overhead, bright and loud, masking the screams. 

The harmony of Christmas carols drifts faintly in the background, a jarring contrast to the chaos. Her voice echoes in your ears, sharp and cutting. Your body was shaking, but not of the cold. But shock. You were too shocked to even move as you watched her turn her back.

“What the fuck are you saying?” You asked her, your purple eyes turning watery. “You’re leaving me?”

"I don’t need you anymore." she had said, her words like shards of glass. "And you don’t need me anymore. So, let’s end it here, hm?”

Kaiko broke up with you that day.

And then she massacred hundreds.

The images come rushing back in vivid, relentless clarity: the blood, the chaos, the twisted wreckage of everything you thought you understood. You can’t stop replaying it—the devastation, the betrayal, the weight of what she had become.

You don’t want to face it. You don’t want to deal with that Christmas day again.

But in the silence, it finds you. It always finds you.

Tears started to fall from your eyes again.

“I hate this, I hate this too much.”

══════════════════

THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU’VE HAD ENOUGH SLEEP. But it wasn’t what you wanted. You always don’t sleep, you don’t want to sleep enough. Because you knew where it would lead. And you don’t want to end up there. Yet that’s where you ended up.

You wake up drenched in sweat most nights, the images from your dreams burned into your mind. No, not dreams. No no, they’re memories. You see them as clearly as the day they happened. You could feel your breath hitch over and over again, not believing you’d ever see it again. Not like this.

Namie. Her smile, her laugh, the way she’d always known just the right thing to say to pull you out of your moods. You see her standing there, in the middle of that cursed battlefield, her eyes wide with fear as she turns to you—too late. 

The curse’s claws tear through her chest before you can move, before you can scream. Blood sprays, her body crumples, and you’re left standing in the aftermath, paralyzed by your failure. You tell yourself it wasn’t your fault, but the words feel hollow. You were supposed to protect her. You were right there, and you couldn’t save her.

Then comes Kaiko. The guilt tastes different with her, but no less bitter. You see her face, contorted in anger and betrayal, hear her voice, venomous and raw, shouting your name as she lunges at you.

You remember the way her cursed energy crackled in the air, the sharp clash of your techniques, the moment her attack faltered and you struck back without hesitation.

She falls, her body collapsing in slow motion. Blood pools beneath her, a stark contrast to the pale, shocked expression on her face. She hadn’t thought you’d do it. You hadn’t thought you’d do it either.

But you did. The scene plays on repeat in your head every night. Namie died because you weren’t fast enough. Kaiko died because you were too fast. Over and over and over.

You sit on your bed, staring at your shaking hands. You tell yourself you’re strong. A sorcerer. Someone who can endure anything. But the truth is harder to swallow: you can’t handle being still. Because when you stop moving, the memories catch up to you..

Namie. Kaiko. The weight of their deaths pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You glance at the calendar on your wall, the faint tick of the clock echoing in the stillness. Red lines mark the days since your last mission, stretching across the grid like tally marks on a prisoner’s wall. The numbers blur together, each one a reminder of time slipping by without purpose. It feels like an eternity.

And with each passing day, the nightmares grow louder, clawing their way into your thoughts. The stillness that was supposed to heal you now feels suffocating, like a weight pressing on your chest. You begin to wonder if this break—this rest—isn’t meant to fix you at all. Maybe it’s the thing that will finally break you.

The days drag on, stretching endlessly, and your attempts to find relief grow more desperate. You try everything—everything—to distract yourself, to fill the void the missions once occupied.

You pick up a book, hoping to lose yourself in its pages, but the words slip through your mind like water through a sieve. You read the same sentence five times before giving up, the book tossed aside onto a growing pile of failed attempts.

You wander aimlessly around town, hands shoved deep into your pockets as you roam familiar streets with no destination in mind. But the noise of the city only irritates you, and the fleeting glimpses of laughter and holiday cheer feel like a cruel mockery.

You even try your hand at hobbies you’d long since abandoned—sketching, fixing the old record player collecting dust in the corner, even cooking—but nothing clicks. Each attempt feels hollow, like going through the motions of someone else’s life.

Nothing works.

The memories are relentless, clawing at the edges of your mind, refusing to be silenced. Kaiko’s smile haunts you. The fireworks, the screams, the carols—they play on a loop in your head, a cruel symphony of the past.

And the quiet of your apartment feels like a prison. The walls seem to close in on you, pressing closer with each passing hour. The silence stretched taut, oppressive, and the ticking clock became even more  unbearable.

You sit on the couch, head in your hands, the can of soda long forgotten on the table. "This isn't a rest. This is torture." you mutter to yourself, your voice hoarse in the stillness. "This isn’t peace. This is—"

You stop, unable to put words to the feeling, but the emptiness swallows you whole. The weight of it presses down on you, suffocating, as if the very air around you thickens, making it harder to breathe. Your thoughts race in circles, but nothing makes sense. You try to ground yourself, to focus on something, anything, but the more you try, the more you slip away from it all.

Tears fall, heavy and relentless, as if they were always there, waiting for the moment when the dam would finally crack. You rock yourself gently in your arms, the motion a desperate attempt to comfort yourself, to find some semblance of control. But it doesn’t help. Nothing helps.

The room around you seems to close in, the walls pressing in from all sides. The silence, the stillness, it all becomes too much. The space feels claustrophobic now, oppressive, like the walls are suffocating you. You can’t escape it. You can’t escape yourself.

Each breath comes in ragged gasps, as if you’re trying to hold onto something, anything, to stop the flood of memories, the flood of pain. The darkness that has always been there, lurking at the edges, now seems to take shape, swirling around you like a living thing, creeping up your spine, curling its fingers around your throat.

The nightmares that have only been whispers in the background are no longer just in your sleep. They are here, in your apartment, in the silence. They’re alive, moving through every corner of your mind and your space.

Your sobs echo in the emptiness, the only sound in the room, and for a moment, you wonder if this is it—if this is all there is. If the endless cycle of pain, of isolation, is what’s meant for you. You wonder if you’ll ever find a way out, if the break, this supposed reprieve, will ever end.

But all you feel is the suffocating silence. The crushing weight of memories that won’t let you go. The cruel reminder that no matter how far you run, you can’t escape what’s inside you.

One cold winter evening, as the sky outside turns a bruised shade of purple, you sit on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. A sitcom plays, its canned laughter grating against the silence of the room. You’re not even paying attention to the plot; it’s just noise, something to drown out your thoughts.

Then, the doorbell rings.

You freeze. No one ever comes to your place unannounced. Hell, hardly anyone knows where you live. For a moment, you wonder if you imagined it. But then it rings again, louder this time. Dragging yourself off the couch, you shuffle to the door, your brows furrowing in confusion. Peering through the peephole, your confusion only deepens.

There, on your doorstep, stands those three.

Gojo Satoru was smiling at you so brightly.

Geto Suguru greets you warmly and kindly.

Ieiri Shoko waves at you, a cigarette on her lips.

You couldn’t help as you stood there in your Sanrio pajamas,  blinking at them like they’ve just stepped out of one of your nightmares—or maybe one of your better dreams. The cold winter air brushes inside as you stand there utterly frozen. 

“Senpaiiiii, it’s cold!” Satoru snapped you out of it. “Please let us in already!”

“Cry baby.” Shoko snickered, looking at her friend. “Who told you to not put a winter coat on?”

“I didn’t know it would be this cold, Sho! Let me live!”

Suguru sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about this, senpai.”

"What are you three doing here?" you ask, your voice hoarse from disuse.

Satoru turns to you with a grin, his usual cocky demeanor firmly in place. He was cold, but he was going to smile at you regardless. He likes doing that for you, after all. He’s carrying a bag in one hand and waving with the other. 

"Nice place you’ve got here! We thought it was time for a little intervention. And talk about the heating system! Wow, really, if you just let us in—"

Your confusion deepens. "How do you even know where I live?"

"Yaga–sensei." Shoko says simply, lighting a cigarette as she steps past you into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. "He was worried about you, so he gave us your address."

You move to the side, giving enough space for Satoru to come in. Suguru could only shake his head as he asked if he could come in. You finally nodded. Shoko followed him inside, muttering a word of thanks. 

You glance back at Satoru, who’s already making himself at home, plopping onto your couch like he owns the place. He sets the bag down on the coffee table with a flourish. He takes the warmth of the room in with pleasure.

"And you’re welcome, by the way, senpai." he adds, shooting you a wink. "We brought snacks. And movies. And me, the best part of this little party."

Suguru, who’s been leaning casually against the doorframe, finally steps inside, his hands tucked into his pockets. "Yaga–sensei may have told us to go. But we figured you’d be holed up in here, overthinking everything like you always do. So we came to drag you out of your head for a while, if that’s alright with you.”

“I guess.” You blink at them, still processing their sudden appearance. "But I don’t need an intervention. I’m fine, you know?" you mumble, folding your arms defensively. 

Shoko snorts, exhaling a cloud of smoke from her cigarette. "Yeah, you look real fine, senpai." she says, gesturing vaguely at your pajamas, disheveled appearance and the mess in your living room. "When was the last time you left this place, senpai?"

You frowned at her, but before you could reply, Satoru interrupted her, waving her off. "Don’t worry about all that, senpai." he says, reaching into the bag and pulling out a container of something that smells suspiciously like takeout. 

"Tonight, we’re here to chill. No missions, no training, no brooding in the dark. Just us. And maybe a bad horror movie, if Suguru doesn’t complain too much."

"I always complain about your movie choices, Satoru." Geto mutters, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips. “They’re always so questionable!”

For a moment, you consider kicking them out. You don’t want to be seen like this whatsoever. messy, vulnerable, barely holding it together. But then you catch the genuine concern in their eyes, hidden behind Satoru’s little jokes, Shoko’s eager bluntness, and Suguru's tender composure. They came here because they care, when they didn’t have to. 

And maybe—just maybe—you need this.

"Fine, fine." you mutter, stepping aside to let them fully invade your space. "But if Satoru picks something stupid, I’m kicking all of you out."

"Deal, senpai!" Gojo says cheerfully, already rifling through your meager DVD collection. "This is gonna be great. You’ll see."

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel something other than the suffocating weight of your memories. It’s small, fleeting. But it’s there. It was there and it was there to stay.  A spark of something warmer, lighter. Maybe, with them here, you won’t have to face it all alone.

As the night goes on, your small apartment feels strangely livelier than it has been in the past few weeks. The place, once a sanctuary of silence and isolation, has been overtaken by a chaotic kind of energy that feels foreign—and a little unsettling.

The three musketeers, Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru, have sprawled out in your living room like they own the place. Once the movie ended, Satoru wasted no time grabbing the remote and flipping through your TV channels with all the grace and decorum of a toddler on a sugar rush. 

The sound of random commercials and sitcoms blaring in the background mixes with the clinking of ice cubes as Shoko leans back on your armchair, casually sipping a drink she definitely helped herself to from your fridge.

Suguru, meanwhile, has settled himself on the floor, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he watches it all unfold. He’s got that look, the one that says he’s aware of exactly what’s going on but finds it too entertaining to intervene.

"Did you really just switch to a cooking show, Satoru?" you ask, eyes narrowing in disbelief as you watch him channel-surf with zero sense of restraint.

"Yeah, I did, senpai." Satoru replies nonchalantly, glancing over at you with a grin. "What’s wrong with a little food porn? I’m trying to get inspired for the next big mission meal. I’ll make you a five-star ramen that’ll blow your mind."

You raise an eyebrow. "You? Cook? The same guy who couldn’t even make instant ramen noodles without setting off the smoke alarm?"

"That was one time, senpai!" Satoru protests, flicking the remote like he’s offended. "Besides, ramen's on a different level. You can’t just learn that, it’s an art form."

Shoko, from her spot on the armchair, rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her drink. "If by art form you mean you’ll burn water if left alone for two minutes then sure, go for it."

You sigh, rubbing your temples as the low hum of Satoru’s TV-flipping blends with Shoko’s quiet snark. Suguru’s chuckle is the only thing that cuts through the noise, and you glance at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You’re not helping, Suguru." you mutter back at him. “Honestly when you find yourself loosening up, you end up becoming a menace to me too.

Suguru just shrugs and smiles at you.. "Just enjoying the show, senpai." he says with that faint amusement still in his voice.

And then, as if the universe is trying to throw salt on your wounds, you glance at the time. Your stomach sinks, and the thought hits you like a freight train. They’re planning to stay the night, aren’t they?

“”Don’t tell me you didn’t have accommodations ready?” You direct the question to no one in particular.

But it’s clear from the smug glint in Satoru’s cerulean eyes that he knows exactly what’s coming. He’s like a kid who’s already picked out his spot on the couch for a sleepover. Shoko doesn’t even look at you as she casually lifts her glass at you.

"Yeah, pretty sure we’re all crashing here tonight. Hope that’s okay, senpai." she says, the words dripping with sarcasm.

"Didn’t even ask, huh?" you mutter under your breath, but there’s no real point in protesting.

Suguru gives you an almost apologetic look, though his smirk is still firmly in place. "You’re stuck with us, senpai. Might as well get comfy."

"Great, just great." you deadpan. "A full house. Just what I needed."

Satoru immediately perks up, sitting cross-legged on your couch like an overgrown child. "What are you talking about, senpai?" he says, his grin wide and unabashed. "You’ve got so much space in the living room! Look at this—practically a luxury penthouse." He gestures dramatically at the modest area, clearly exaggerating.

You narrow your eyes at him. "It’s not a penthouse. And what does it matter? You’re not staying."

He leans back against the couch, arms spread wide. "But I’ve never had a sleepover before," he says, with the kind of mock-innocence you know is meant to guilt-trip you. "C’mon, don’t ruin my first one."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you blink at him, surprised. "Never?"

Satoru shakes his head, that grin of his still firmly in place. "Never. Clan rules, remember? Strict schedules, separate quarters, all that fun stuff."

Something in your chest twists at that. You think of your own childhood, so eerily similar. "Neither have I." you admit quietly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Suguru, who’s been observing the exchange with his usual calm, suddenly blinks in surprise. He looks between the two of you, and a flicker of understanding crosses his face. You sighed, crossing your arms at him.

"That’s right." he murmurs, almost to himself. "I forgot you guys didn’t grow up outside of clan culture."

The room falls into a brief, thoughtful silence. Shoko, for once, doesn’t break it with a sarcastic remark. Instead, she just takes another sip from her drink, watching the three of you with an unreadable expression. You shake your head at the situation at hand.

"Well…." Satoru says finally, his tone lighter, though his grin softens into something almost genuine. "There’s a first time for everything, right? And tonight’s as good a time as any. You’ve got your first sleepover buddies right here!"

You shake your head, exasperated. "You’re impossible."

"Yeah, but you like me anyway," Satoru couldn’t help but quip, winking.

Suguru sighs, shaking his head as he leans back against the wall. "He’s not wrong about space, though. We could manage, senpai."

"And mind you, senpai, you are outnumbered." Shoko adds lazily, her voice tinged with amusement. “Three to one is an ultimate defeat.”

You glance around your small living room, taking in the ridiculousness of the situation. There’s no way they’re going to leave. And maybe, just maybe, a part of you doesn’t want them to. You took a moment and then breathed deeply. You finally nodded.

"Fine, fine." you grumble back at them. "But if any of you snore, you’re out the door."

Satoru cheers like he’s just won a grand prize, while Suguru chuckles softly. Shoko smirks, flicking ash from her cigarette. As they start debating who gets the couch versus the floor, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of warmth settle in your chest. It’s new, unfamiliar—but not entirely unwelcome.

Satoru, flipping the remote like he’s discovered a new channel once again, grins even wider. "Trust me, senpai! You’ll not regret this in the morning. You’ve been moping around here for weeks. We’re here to enlighten you with our brilliant company."

Shoko chimes in, raising her glass in a mock toast. "To brilliant company."

Suguru chuckles. "It’s a rough job, but someone’s gotta do it."

“You three are just…” You smiled at them. “Head to sleep already.”\

Satoru was right in the end, as he always was.

You didn’t regret it one bit, the next day.

If anything, you still held this memory close to your heart.

══════════════════

YOU HAD GOTTEN ENOUGH SLEEP. But not enough, like before. And you were glad about it. The faint winter morning light filters gently through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. You stir slightly, still caught in the fog of sleep, your body reluctant to leave the warmth of your blankets as you sprawled onto the soft feather stuffed pillows. 

They had managed to rope you to sleep with them in the living room, almost truly like a sleep over, even when you wanted to sleep in your room. You had refused numerous times, but they kept going and asking. They weren’t giving up, so you had to defeat them in a coin toss. And they won. Hence, why you were here.

The quiet of the early morning lingers around you, comforting in its stillness, as the world outside remains frozen under a blanket of snow. It seemed like a good day to just laze around all morning. But just as you start to drift back into the comforting haze of sleep, the peace is shattered. An unmistakable voice, loud and intrusive, cuts through the silence like a knife.

"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!" Satoru’s overly cheerful tone cuts through the quiet, followed by the sound of him banging a pan with a spoon. "Come on! Up, up, up! We’ve got plans!"

You groan, rolling over and pulling your blanket over your head. "What now, Satoru?" you mutter. “It’s too early.”

From the couch, Suguru grumbles something incoherent, his voice muffled by a pillow. Shoko, sprawled on the floor with a blanket half-draped over her, opens one eye, her expression murderous. 

"Satoru, you idiot." she growls, her voice rough with sleep. "It’s too early for your nonsense. Shut up and let us sleep."

"But it’s not nonsense!" Satoru protests, his voice rising an octave in indignation. "You’ll never believe what I found out!" 

He marches over to the window, dramatically pulling back the curtains and flooding the room with sunlight. You groan at the light, your eyes snapping open. It’s not even that early, well at least not to Gojo Satoru. 

But to you and the other two, it was still pretty early enough to be annoyed. The sun was still up, brighter than you all wanted. You rub your eyes, squinting at the sun. Shoko however did not fare better, and nor did Suguru.

"Ow, my eyes!" Shoko snaps, covering her face with her blanket. “Satoru, you fucker!”

Suguru throws a pillow at Satoru, who dodges it effortlessly. "Whatever it is, Satoru, it can all wait." Suguru says, his voice thick with irritation. "I’m serious, Satoru. Some of us value our sleep."

"No, it can’t wait!" Satoru announces, grinning like a child on Christmas morning. "I found out we’re right near a theme park! Like, walking distance. We have to go!"

Both Shoko and Suguru groan in unison, their reactions almost synchronized. It’s like they’ve done this a thousand times before, and honestly, they probably have. You can see the shared look of exasperation pass between them, as if they’ve collectively accepted that nothing in their lives is ever going to be normal with Satoru around.

"You woke us up for that?" Shoko asks, glaring at him.

"It’s way too early for a theme park, Satoru." Suguru adds, rubbing his temple. "They’re not even open yet."

"But they will be, Suguru!" Satoru says, crossing his arms and pouting like a kid denied candy. "Come on, what’s wrong with you guys? Where’s your sense of adventure?"

"It’s still asleep, out of the jurisdiction, out of sight, out of mind." Shoko deadpans, rolling over.

Satoru dramatically huffs, throwing his arms in the air. "You’re all no fun!" 

Shoko rolls her eyes dramatically. "You really have no shame, do you, Satoru?" she mutters under her breath, clearly amused but trying to hide it. "What, is this what you do now? Drag people out of bed like some kind of high-energy nightmare?"

Suguru sighed, leaning against the pillow he was hugging. "I can’t believe you, Satoru. Do you ever just… let people live?"

“Meh, meh. Sorry, I don’t talk to not fun people.” He drops onto the edge of your side of the air mattress and smiles at you. "What about you, senpai? You’re cool, right? You’ll go with me!"

You sigh, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "If it’ll get you to stop acting like a five-year-old, then... sure. Why not?"

Satoru freezes, turning to look at you with wide, starry cerulean eyes. "Really?" he asks, his voice brimming with excitement.

You, now fully awake and regretting every decision that brought you to this point, look from one to the other, then back to Satoru. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, fine, you win. I’m up. Can you please just leave me with some shred of dignity before you turn my whole apartment into a circus?"

In an instant, Gojo Satoru scoots closer, practically glowing with abundant joy. He almost looked exactly like a puppy, happy about being given a treat for the first time. Oftentimes, you forget that he was also a clan kid like you, who never experienced these things as well as one regular person would. 

"You’re the best, senpai!" he says, his grin so dazzling it’s almost blinding. He leans in slightly, his face closer to yours than you expected, and the sudden proximity makes your heart skip a beat. “Ah, this is why you’re my favorite!”

You try to look away, feeling your entire face turn scarlet red. But his enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself smiling despite your embarrassment. You sighed at him, patting his shoulders. 

"Don’t make me regret this, Satoru." you mumble, your face warm. “We’re gonna have fun, but in a way we all would enjoy, okay?”

“Hm, as you say, senpai!” He replies, still heavily enthusiastic.

Suguru, still lying on the other side of the air mattress, lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Great. Now we’re all going, aren’t we?"

"Obviously, Suguboo!" Satoru replies, his grin widening as he hops off your side. "I mean, what’s a theme park trip without all my best friends?"

“Hey, don’t call me Suguboo.”

“But I don’t want to stop, Suguboo—” Suguru threw a pillow at him, hitting him on the face.

Shoko groans again, pulling her blanket over her head. "You owe me coffee for this, Satoru." she mutters. “I need a lot of it to get through the day.”

“The Gojo Satoru infinite wallet pouch is ready to serve you today!”

“It's better buy me the best of the best, Satoru.”

"Until then, let’s drink the one at home. So, I’ll go make coffee in the kitchen." you say with a sigh.

“Hm, thank you, senpai.” Shoko grumbles from her position.

You slowly stand up from your spot, every muscle protesting the movement as you stretch. You walk toward the kitchen, hoping the smell of freshly brewed coffee will help shake off the remnants of sleep clinging to you like a fog.

“Senpai—”

You don’t need to turn around to know it’s Satoru. You can hear the exaggerated whine in his voice before he even finishes the sentence.

“No, no, it’s fine.” you tell him, waving him off without looking back. “You guys are already causing enough chaos. Let me handle the coffee. I’ve got it.”

Gojo Satoru doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he pouts dramatically, his voice rising in that almost childlike plea that never fails to get under your skin. You could feel your eye twitch.

“But, senpai.” he whines again, his tone a mix of desperation and mock sadness. “You know I’m really bad at making coffee. Remember that one time I tried to brew it and we ended up with, like, coffee-flavored charcoal?”

You can’t help but snort, a small laugh escaping your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, I remember. I also remember you trying to make me some instant noodles, and I still haven’t forgiven you for that disaster.”

Satoru’s pout deepens, and he stares at you with those wide, blue eyes, his expression pleading like a lost puppy. “Senpai, please. I swear, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even throw in some cookies or something later. But just let me make the coffee, okay? I promise it’ll be good!”

You glance back at him over your shoulder, seeing his exaggerated frown, the way his lip quivers in mock sadness. He’s laying it on thick, but for some reason, it’s hard to keep a straight face. You shake your head. He’s such a child.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to burn down my kitchen, Satoru?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"That was one time!" he insists, dramatically throwing his arms up as though to plead his case. "One time, and I learned from my mistakes. I’m practically a professional now!" He gives a nod to himself as if he’s convinced of his own greatness.

You roll your purple eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. "Fine, fine." you relent, shaking your head in disbelief. "But if I end up with a cup of mud instead of coffee, you’re cleaning up the mess."

Satoru’s face lights up immediately, his eyes sparkling with what can only be described as pure glee. Ah, he can smile like that too, you think to yourself. “Deal! You won’t regret it, senpai, I promise!”

As you make your way toward the kitchen, you hear him behind you, his footsteps almost skipping with excitement. "You’ll see! This is going to be the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had! I’m practically a coffee connoisseur!"

You try to hide your smirk as you enter the kitchen, already bracing yourself for whatever absurdities Satoru is about to bring to the table. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Satoru.” you mutter under your breath.

Satoru pauses just before entering the kitchen, looking at you with mock seriousness. “Senpai, I’ve mastered the art of coffee. I’ve trained under the world’s finest baristas. You won’t even recognize the quality!”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from your chest. “Yeah, sure you have.”

Satoru steps into the kitchen with far too much confidence, already reaching for the coffee beans like he’s about to perform a magic trick. You know this is going to be interesting. You watch him closely. 

"This is gonna be amazing." he mutters to himself, as if trying to convince both of you.

You shake your head, standing back to watch the chaos unfold. Whatever happens next, you’re almost certain it’ll be more entertaining than your original plan of quietly making the coffee yourself.

As Gojo Satoru makes the coffee, he starts buzzing around and chattering about which rides to hit first, you can’t help but feel a little less annoyed about the early wake-up call. His excitement is ridiculous, sure—but it’s also kind of... endearing. 

Well, you’ve known that the moment you met him. But seeing it over and over again, it always made your heart ever warmer towards him. He’s different from every other clan folk you’ve met. And you were glad for that. You need more kind people in those spaces.

The soft morning haze still lingers, casting a gentle glow through the kitchen window as Satoru practically dances around your kitchen, his enthusiasm infectious but undeniably over-the-top. He’s already rattling off every possible ride and snack the theme park might offer, his words spilling out in rapid bursts like a hyperactive child who's had one too many sugar rushes.

"I swear, the rollercoaster is gonna be insane! I saw it on their website! And they’ve got this new cotton candy that’s like... blue and pink and it’s literally out of this world! Oh, and the haunted house? Don't even get me started. It's supposed to be the scariest thing ever! I’m telling you, we’re gonna have so much fun, senpai!” 

He continues talking for a little bit more, moving around the kitchen like a whirlwind, pulling out everything he needs with too much flair—coffee beans, a grinder, and what you can only assume is the most complicated brewing setup you’ve ever seen.

You stand by the counter, watching the chaos unfold with the kind of resigned amusement that only Satoru can provoke. You cross your arms and lean against the countertop. “Did you wake up on a sugar high, or is this your normal level of insane?”

Satoru spins around with a bright grin, his hair still slightly messy from sleep but somehow looking perfect in that way only he can manage. “Who needs sugar when life is this exciting? Also, if I don’t make this coffee, I’m pretty sure your day will be cursed, senpai. It’s like a public service.”

You can’t help but snort at his dramatic flair, though you can’t deny the faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Right. And I suppose the curse you’re talking about involves caffeine-fueled chaos?”

"Exactly!" Satoru says, as though it’s the most logical thing in the world. “I mean, what’s life without a little chaos? You need this, senpai.”

You can only shake your head as he starts brewing the coffee. The machine whirs to life with a hum that cuts through the air, and Satoru, ever the perfectionist (or at least pretending to be), stands over it like a chef preparing a Michelin-starred dish. His face is a study in concentration, except for the occasional exaggerated eyebrow raise as he checks to see if you're watching.

He adds the coffee grounds with a flourish, as if it’s some kind of secret recipe, and begins to press buttons and twist knobs, making it all seem far more complicated than it really is. He’s making it harder for himself.

"Don’t you think you're taking this a little too seriously?" you ask, still leaning against the counter. “It’s just coffee, not a rocket launch.”

Satoru doesn’t even glance at you as he nods, clearly in the zone. “Senpai, the key to a perfect cup of coffee is precision. It’s an art form. I’ve mastered the art of brewing.” He shoots you a look, clearly proud of himself. “You’ll see.”

As the scent of coffee starts to fill the room, you watch him continue to move around with far too much energy. His arms are wide, gesturing as though he’s explaining some life-changing revelation. “I’m telling you, the theme park’s going to be insane. They’re bringing in a whole new section for kids! You know what that means? More rides for us!”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no denying how contagious his energy is, even if it’s borderline exhausting. “Right, because you’re so mature.” you tease, though you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “How does that even make sense? You’re literally going on rides for children.”

He pauses for a beat, then grins wider, as if proud of his reasoning. “You can’t blame a guy for wanting to have fun! Anyway, once this coffee’s ready, we can start planning. You’ll be wide awake and full of energy. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

You watch him for a moment longer, his utter absurdity and boundless enthusiasm filling the space like an electric current. The coffee machine hums away in the background, and you can feel the sleepiness start to melt away despite yourself. 

Maybe, just maybe, a little chaos in your day wouldn’t be the worst thing. After all, with someone like Satoru around, it’s never really quiet anyway. But maybe, just maybe, that’s for the best. It would keep the nightmares away, even for a little while.

"Did you know they have this crazy roller coaster that does a full 360 loop?" Satoru exclaims, pulling up images of the park on his phone and shoving the screen into Suguru’s face, as he drinks the coffee.

Suguru, still lying on the couch as he drinks the coffee, swats lazily at Satoru’s hand without even opening his dark purple orbs. "Satoru, please.”  he says in a gravelly voice. "It's not even 7 a.m. The park won’t open for hours. Go entertain yourself until then."

"But if we wait, the lines will be insane." Satoru whines, dropping dramatically onto the arm of the couch. "And if we don’t go early, we won’t get to ride everything!"

"Sounds tragic, really." Shoko mutters from her spot on the floor, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she peeks out from under her blanket. "Really, I don’t know how we’d recover from such a loss."

Satoru ignores her, spinning on his heel to face you. His glasses are perched lazily around his neck, and his azure eyes sparkle with an almost childlike glee. You drink your own coffee in silence. You didn’t want to look at him, but when your own lilac eyes and his own orbs met, you were done for.

"Come on, senpai." he pleads, clasping his hands together. "You already said you’d go. Convince these two party poopers!"

You rub your temples, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. But then he turns those eyes on you, full of such unbridled excitement that it catches you off guard. It’s rare to see Gojo Satoru like this, unfiltered and genuinely animated and fully eager, and something about it makes your earlier irritation melt away.

You sigh, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. "Fine, fine. I already said I’d go, didn’t I?"

Satoru freezes for a moment, then lights up like a firework. "You’re the best!" he exclaims, bounding toward you. He stops just shy of your position, crouching down so he’s at eye level. "No, really. You’re the absolute best. I knew you wouldn’t let me down!"

His face is close—too close. You can see the flecks of light in his cerulean blue eyes, the faint curl of his grin, and the way his energy practically radiates off him in waves. It’s overwhelming, and before you know it, your cheeks are burning.

"Stop looking at me like that, Satoru. I’m trying to drink the coffee." you mutter, turning your face away.

Satoru tilts his head, his grin morphing into something softer, more amused. "Like what?"

"Like that." you snap, though your voice lacks bite. You feel like a flustered mess, and his teasing only makes it worse.

Behind you, Suguru sits up, his hair falling messily over his shoulders. "This is exactly why I said no sleepovers. In fact, never again." he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "I forgot how exhausting the two of you can be together."

"You forgot because you’re just a party pooper." Satoru quips, standing up straight and stretching his arms over his head. "Come on, you two. Get up already! We’ve got a theme park to conquer! Sho, drink the coffee!"

"You’ve got a death wish, waking people up like this. On a Sunday, no less." Shoko says, dragging herself into a sitting position. She looks at you and smirks, her sharp gaze catching the faint redness in your cheeks. "And you. Blushing over Gojo Satoru, senpai? Never thought I’d see the day."

"I’m not blushing!" you snap defensively, though the warmth in your face betrays you. “It’s just hot, yeah, it’s just….”

"Sure, sure." Shoko says, standing up and stretching lazily. "I’ll let it slide since I’m getting Satoru’s black card paying for everything.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get up and drink the coffee, Sho!”

Suguru lets out a long sigh, standing and brushing imaginary dust off his pants. "Fine. Let’s get this over with. But if I hear one complaint about how tired you are later, Satoru, I'll convince senpai to leave you stranded at the park by yourself."

"Deal!" Satoru chirps, already darting to the kitchen to grab snacks for the road. "This is going to be amazing, you’ll see!"

As the sun starts to warm your face, the faint glow of early morning sunlight breaking through the coolness of the winter air, you find yourself inexplicably smiling. You can’t help it—no matter how ridiculous it all is, no matter how absurd Satoru’s plans seem, something about this feels right. You finally finished your coffee.

“Maybe this break is exactly what I needed.” you admit, glancing up at the sky. “Not just the time off, but… well, this.” You gesture to the group, already well into some new debate about which roller coaster will give them the best thrill. 

Shoko gives you a knowing look, her eyes slightly squinted in amusement. “Oh, so you’re finally admitting you’re not completely immune to chaos, huh?”

You shrug with a smirk. “I’m just saying, if I have to be dragged into a theme park against my will, at least it’s with the most entertaining people possible.”

Suguru shakes his head with a chuckle. “You know, I thought you were the one who was going to drag us into your chaos, senpai. But look at you now, following his lead.”

Satoru turns around mid-step, his energy never faltering. “Of course! It’s a lifestyle, people! Living on the edge, embracing the madness! You can thank me later when you’ve experienced true joy.”

“And I’ll thank you later when I recover from the exhaustion.” you mutter, but you can’t help but laugh. 

Even if it’s a little chaotic, maybe it’s exactly the kind of break you needed. You’d never admit it to Satoru, but the thought of having a day without responsibilities or missions, without constantly running from one problem to the next, feels like the small escape you’ve been craving.

As the group heads toward the train station, Gojo Satoru still chattering about all the fun things you’re about to experience, you realize that despite all your reluctance and doubts, maybe this chaotic, ridiculous, and loud is exactly what you needed after all.

══════════════════

YOU HADN’T EXPECTED TO FEEL SO FAMILIAR THE MOMENT YOU STEPPED INTO THE GATES OF THE THEME PARK. You used to come here often, with….them. Each time you have the time of day from the week, they would suggest coming here.

It wasn’t too far from Kyoto Jujutsu High, so it was pretty easy to make your way here and then back home in a quick succession. But you haven’t been back since. So, you were surprised that it would still feel familiar and all at the same time, feel different.

The noise of the theme park surrounds you like a warm, chaotic hug—the laughter of children, the shrill screams of riders zooming by on roller coasters, the sugary scent of cotton candy and funnel cakes hanging in the air.

It’s a whirlwind of bright colors, flashing lights, and energy, but you feel strangely detached, standing on the sidewalk in front of the entrance.

It’s been so long since you’ve been to a theme park—six years, maybe more—and the memories that rise to the surface aren’t the happiest. The last time you were here, you were with Namie and Kaiko, and everything seemed so simple. 

You can still remember the sound of their laughter, the way their faces had lit up when they’d seen their favorite ride, the way they had dragged you to the food stalls for overpriced snacks. It was carefree. Happy. But that’s not how you feel now.

The moment stretches on as you find yourself lost in thought, staring at the entrance like it's miles away from you. Before you can sink further into the old memories, you feel a soft presence next to you—gentle, like the calm after a storm.

Suguru stands beside you, not crowding you, but close enough to show that he’s here. He watches you for a moment, his sharp gaze taking in your distant expression. You didn’t even realize how far you had drifted from the group until now.

"Hey, senpai." he says, his voice soft and steady. "You alright?"

You blink, slowly turning toward him, and suddenly realize how out of it you must have looked. It’s hard to hide things from Geto Suguru; he’s the one who always seems to notice when you’re not quite there. You try to brush it off, offering him a small, tight smile.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking," you mutter, hoping that will be enough to convince him.

But Suguru isn’t fooled. "Thinking about what?"

You hesitate, your thoughts still clinging to the past like sticky cobwebs, but you push them away. You can’t stay in that space forever, not here, not today. You didn’t want to dampen the mood.

And you highly doubt that it’s wise to bring up Kaiko. Geto Suguru would at least have a rough knowledge about who she is. But still, a part of you was protective of her. Even with what she had become, you loved her. You still did. You always will.

"The last time I came to a theme park, it was with my own team, in Jujutsu High." you admit quietly. "I guess it’s just... weird being here without them."

Suguru doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, he stands there for a moment, looking at you with an understanding that makes your heart do a small flip. Then, without skipping a beat, he asks you with a small smile.

"What’s something you’re looking forward to today? Something you can enjoy here, just for you, senpai?”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the question. It’s simple—too simple, but somehow it feels like it’s exactly what you needed to hear. Your thoughts trail back to the rides, the sweet treats, the nostalgic excitement of being at a theme park. You hadn’t thought about what you wanted. It had all been about avoiding the past.

"I... I guess I used to love roller coasters, I suppose." you admit, a little sheepishly, as you glance around at the bustling theme park. "And the food, of course. They have some good sandwiches here. But, of course, it's so overpriced, but it always tastes amazing."

Suguru’s lips curl into a soft, almost amused smile as he watches your face light up, just a little. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you, taking in the subtle shift in your demeanor. Then, with a flick of his hand, he gestures to the chaos around you, as if presenting it like a gift. 

“Well, what better place to indulge, huh?”

You chuckle at his nonchalant presentation of the madness around you. It’s comforting, somehow. It’s like he can see exactly what you need without saying a word. It’s one of the reasons why, in all the chaos, Geto Suguru feels like the calm center. He can be a safe zone. You think you could consider him as one.

"Then let’s make today about you, senpai." he says, his voice warm and steady. "You like roller coasters, right? Go get on one. You can even scream as loud as you want." He pauses for a beat, his eyes twinkling just a bit. “If you want, I’ll go with you.”

A laugh bubbles out of you at the thought of getting on a ride and screaming your head off. You didn’t think you could feel even a little bit of excitement today, but there it is—a lightness that you didn’t know you were missing. You shake your head slightly, but there’s a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Scream as loud as I want, huh? That might not be pretty, but sure, I’ll take you up on that.”

Suguru’s smile widens at the sight of you relaxing, just a little. His presence is so calm, so steady, that it feels like the weight on your shoulders lightens just from his quiet support. You find it oddly comforting, like the world is allowed to be a little less heavy for just a moment.

"You don’t have to hold back, you know." he continues, his voice soft but insistent. "Let go for once. It's just you, me, and the roller coasters. It’s about having fun. You’ve been too serious for too long." He gives you a knowing look, his expression sincere. “I get it. Sometimes you need someone to remind you how to laugh.”

His words are gentle, but they carry more weight than you'd expect. Suguru has a way of making you feel seen, like he knows the quiet battles you fight even when you don’t say a word. The tension in your chest eases, and for the first time since arriving, you feel something like hope stirring inside you. 

You realize how badly you’ve been craving a moment like this—something simple, something that doesn’t feel like a mission or a responsibility. It’s just a day, just a small escape. And you were grateful, grateful that you don’t feel this heavy weight on you. Even just one day.

“I might just take you up on that, Suguru.” you say, your smile widening as you meet his gaze. "But if I scream my lungs out, I’m blaming you."

Suguru chuckles softly, a warm, genuine sound that fills the space between you. "Deal. But I’ll be right there with you. We’ll make it a proper scream-fest."

With that, you feel your shoulders relax further, the weight on your chest lifting. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve been missing the little joys like this. The chaos, the laughter, and Suguru’s quiet support. You realize that sometimes, it’s the simplest things, the smallest moments, that make all the difference.

"And hey, senpai." Suguru adds, leaning in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, as if he's sharing a top-secret plan. "If you feel embarrassed, we can have Satoru with us. I’m sure he’ll scream worse and be scared worse. He’ll never live it down. Or better yet, let’s get him on a bungee ride. I’m sure he’ll look absolutely terrible on camera while he screams.”

You blink at him, and for a moment, you actually consider it. The image of Gojo Satoru flailing around on a bungee ride, his usual air of invincibility replaced by sheer terror, is just too funny to ignore. The mental picture has you snorting a little, despite yourself.

“You’re actually a menace.” you reply with a grin, shaking your head. “But that does sound like something I could get behind.”

Suguru’s grin widens, his purple eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought you’d like that idea. It’ll be hilarious. Can you imagine the look on his face when he realizes he’s about to jump off a platform, all while trying to look cool?”

You can't help but laugh at the thought of Satoru trying to keep up his cool guy persona while the bungee cord yanks him into a wild, screaming freefall. “You know, you’re right. He would try to act like it’s no big deal, and then probably end up screaming like a baby.”

Suguru chuckles, clearly enjoying the idea just as much as you are. “Exactly. He won’t know what hit him. And then we’ll never let him live it down. We’ll put the footage on a loop in the dorms. Great cinematic masterpiece!”

At this point, you're grinning ear-to-ear, the tension from earlier all but forgotten. “I’m so in. I’m going to bring it up next time we’re all together.”

Suguru laughs, giving you a playful nudge. “I knew you’d come around. Best part is, he won’t even see it coming. Just wait until you hear him scream. You’ll thank me later.”

The way his laughter seems to light up the space between you makes your heart skip a beat. His words, the way he’s paying attention to you in a way that feels so... personal, warm you from the inside out. 

It’s not just about the theme park or the roller coasters anymore, those are little trivial things. It’s the small things—the way he cares without making a big deal about it. You don’t have to carry everything alone. Not when he’s around.

You clear your throat, feeling your cheeks redden under his gaze. "Thanks, Suguru." you murmur, looking away, not quite able to hold his gaze for too long. "I needed that."

He chuckles softly, the sound low and rich, like a warm breeze. "Anytime, senpai. I’m always here for you."

You give him a small, bashful smile, feeling a flutter in your chest as you turn toward the rest of the group. Satoru’s already waving at you from the front of the line for a roller coaster, looking far too excited for someone who’s supposed to be exhausted from sleeping late last night.

You could believe Shoko’s own demeanor to be more true to life, as she grumbles drinking her mocha frappe beside Satoru in the quiet. You glance back at Suguru, who’s still standing beside you, his calm demeanor making you feel a little more grounded.

"Alright." you say, finally feeling a bit more you than you did when you first walked into the park. "Let’s do this. But I’m not going on the bungee rides, no matter how much you try to make me."

Suguru raises an eyebrow, his smile still soft. "We’ll see about that, senpai. I can be pretty persuasive, after all."

You blush, rolling your lilac eyes, but as the group starts to move toward the ride, you feel lighter. It’s a small step, but a step forward nonetheless. Today, you’re going to enjoy the little things. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll let yourself have a little fun along the way.

As you walk toward Satoru and Shoko, you could tell that there was going to be chaos on the ride ahead. You could feel Suguru’s quiet presence beside you, as he follows you and the warmth in your chest spreads, gentle and comforting.

Maybe this can be a day for new memories with them. Not just old ones you’ve been keeping too deep inside. Maybe you could have more in this life than the grief too big to carry in your heart.

The moment you and Suguru start to fall in step with the rest of the group, Satoru was already bouncing on his heels, antsy with excitement. His cerulean eyes are practically sparkling as he spots the first ride beside the booths.

It was a towering, twisting roller coaster that loops and plunges in ways that make even the most adrenaline-junkie riders second guess their life choices.

“Come on! We’re going on this one first!” Satoru says, grabbing your wrist before you can even protest. His grip is firm but playful, and he tugs you along like you’re a piece of loose paper in the wind. “We’re going to have so much fun here!”

You stumble slightly as he pulls you forward, and your heart skips a beat at how sudden and strong his pull is. You knew he was enthusiastic, but you didn’t expect him to not be afraid of that. It was worse than a regular roller coaster you enjoyed.

"Whoa, Gojo Satoru—slow down!" you manage to get out, trying to keep your balance as you hurry to keep up with his eager steps. His energy is so contagious that it's a bit overwhelming, and you’re already feeling a little winded just from trying to keep up with him.

Satoru looks over his shoulder at you, giving you a wide grin, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh? You scared, senpai?" he teases, slowing just a little, but not enough for your liking. “I thought you were a roller coaster person!”

"I am!" you reply, more defensively than you mean to. "But I don’t need to break into a sprint to get on a ride, Satoru!" You wince, realizing you’re practically out of breath already. “You’re just too fast for me, that’s all.”

He chuckles, slowing his pace just enough to let you catch up, though you can still see the excitement bubbling in his gaze. He turns fully toward you, flashing that trademark grin. “Sorry, sorry! I just really want you to have fun! This ride is amazing, you’ll see! It’ll make you forget all about whatever you were thinking about earlier.” He winks, as though this is some grand plan to distract you.

You can’t help but blush at his playful confidence. It’s hard to ignore the way his presence takes over a space, even when he's just trying to drag you onto a ride. “You’re way too much sometimes, you know that?”

Satoru laughs, his hand still holding yours tightly as he walks backward in front of you, his gaze never leaving yours. “What? I’m just being enthusiastic! You’re gonna love it. I promise.”

You try to resist, but his energy is infectious, and despite your initial hesitation, you find yourself smiling. You glance over at Suguru and Shoko, who are walking a few paces behind, Suguru shaking his head with a small smile, clearly used to Gojo’s antics by now.

"Satoru," you say, pulling back just slightly, trying to dig in your heels. "I’m not sure I’m ready for that huge of a ride right off the bat. I mean, I—"

But before you can finish your sentence, Satoru is already gripping your hand a little tighter, his signature grin plastered across his face. Without hesitation, he begins turning you toward the massive roller coaster queue, practically dragging you along. 

“Nope, no backing out now, senpai! You said you’d scream, so let’s scream!”

"Wait, Satoru, seriously—!" you protest, stumbling a little as he pulls you forward with alarming enthusiasm.

"Suguru, help!" you call out, half-laughing and half-panicking, like a kid being dragged along by an overzealous parent.

Suguru, who’s been watching this whole spectacle with an amused smirk, laughs out loud. "Alright, alright. I’ll come with you, senpai." He gives you a knowing look, one that says he’s not about to let you go through this alone.

"Good. Thank you." you mutter, slightly relieved, though you're not sure how much that’ll actually help. Suguru’s calm presence is certainly reassuring, but there’s no amount of support that could fully prepare you for the monstrous roller coaster looming in front of you.

Satoru, in all his glory, turns to you with an exaggerated wink. “Don’t worry, senpai. You’re gonna love it. And if you scream like a little kid, I won’t judge... much.” He chuckles, then starts tugging you forward again. “Come on, let’s make this fun! Just think about the view from the top!”

“You’re both insane,” you mutter, though you can’t hide a reluctant grin. You can tell you’re probably not getting out of this one, not with Satoru’s unshakeable confidence and Suguru’s good-natured support. Maybe this would end up being more fun than you expected—though you’d reserve judgment until after the ride.

Suguru gives you a small smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Hey, it’s all about enjoying the moment. Besides, if you scream, we’ll have some great footage for the bungee to laugh at later. Let him have his fun here."

You pause, shooting him a sideways glance. “You guys really have it out for me today, don’t you?”

"Of course," Suguru replies with a teasing tone. "You look like you could use a good scream."

"You're going to pay for this." you warn both of them, but you can’t help the slight chuckle that escapes. Maybe, just maybe, this chaotic day was exactly what you needed after all.

“I’ll take three tickets, please.” he says confidently, practically bouncing on his feet as he hands over the money. “And they’re both with me!” 

He gestures to you and Suguru with exaggerated flair, and for a moment, you can’t help but roll your eyes, though you can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. His enthusiasm is impossible to resist.

As the three of you board the ride and take your seats, Satoru buckles in beside you with exaggerated care, flashing you a playful wink. "See? I told you we’d have fun."

Suguru takes your hand and smiles at you. “It’s going to be okay, senpai. We’re here with you.”

You chuckle nervously, glancing at the massive drops ahead of you. “You know, you’re really making me regret agreeing to this.”

Satoru tilts his head, his glasses slightly shifting as he grins. "I’m just here to help you face your fears, senpai.” He gives you a look of mock seriousness. "If you scream, I won’t judge. Promise."

You snort, shaking your head. "I’m not scared. I just don’t like being dragged into things at full speed."

The ride jerks to life hard, and before you know it, the cart lurches forward. You feel your stomach leap as you zoom forward on the track, the wind whipping through your hair.

And for a split second, you forget everything, the past, the hesitation, the weight of your thoughts. It’s just the rush, the dizzying sensation of the roller coaster twisting, turning, and plunging.

And there, right next to you, Satoru and Suguru’s faces are lit up with the brightest, most carefree smile you’ve ever seen. Their bright purple and cerulean orbs are wide with excitement, and you can’t help but laugh, the sound drowned out by the noise of the ride. 

You scream as you plummet down one of the steep drops, still holding onto Suguru’s hand. The other free one is trying to reach for Satoru’s, who catches yours as he laughs against the drop. The rush of adrenaline flooding your veins, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel free.

As the ride slows and the ground levels out, Satoru turns toward you, his grin wide and unashamed. "See? Told you you’d love it."

“You really are gripping my hand hard, senpai.” Suguru butted in too, grinning. “You sure you aren’t scared anymore?”

You look at him, laughing, feeling the aftershocks of the ride still coursing through you. “You’re impossible. Both of you.” you say, though your tone is affectionate, and your cheeks are flushed, partly from the ride, partly from the fact that he’s just too damn charming.

Satoru just beams, squeezing your hand briefly before letting go. “Impossible is my middle name, senpai.”

Suguru laughs. “Wah, Satoru. That’s the worst thing you could have said. Corny as shit.”

“Hey, it was great!”

And for the first time in a long while, you find yourself really laughing, your worries forgotten, at least for now. Maybe it’s not about the past at all. Maybe it’s about moments like this, moments of pure, unadulterated fun.

With them by your side, you realize you might just start looking forward to more of them. For the first time in a while, you think you could smile with the utmost tenderness from your heart.

══════════════════

THERE WAS STILL MUCH TO EXPLORE. The sun is high, and the day stretches before you, bright and full of promise. The chaos of the theme park no longer feels overwhelming; instead, it’s just... fun. Y

ou’re laughing, you’re present, and the weight of the past feels just a little lighter with every ride, every bite of food, and every moment spent with the group.

The roller coaster was only the beginning, and now, you find yourself happily floating through the park, trying out different attractions with Satoru dragging you from one to the next like an excited child.

While Suguru keeps a steady, slightly exasperated pace beside you. His protective, calming energy balances out Satoru’s manic enthusiasm perfectly, and you can’t help but appreciate how easy it is to be around him, even in the middle of all this chaos. 

Shoko had taken the liberty of following you guys and disappearing, with Satoru’s black card in hand and buying at the gift stores. She was enjoying herself as much as everyone else too. When she wasn’t doing that, she was taking pictures and videos on her phone. Satoru excitedly tells her to send the videos over to him later. 

But of course, Gojo Satoru’s antics are far from over.

“Look at this!” Satoru exclaims, his voice nearly drowned out by the noise of the park as he rushes over to a nearby cart with trinkets. "I have to get this! It’s a giant plushie version of a panda! It's practically begging me to take it home!"

Before anyone can protest, Satoru’s already handing over wads of cash to the vendor, grinning wildly as he tosses the plushie over his shoulder like it’s no big deal. The panda plush is almost as tall as he is, which makes it even more ridiculous, but Gojo doesn’t seem to care.

Suguru, who has been following along at a slower pace, shakes his head with a smile that’s half exasperation, half fondness. "Satoru, that thing’s the size of a small child. You really think you’re going to carry that around the park?"

Satoru doesn’t miss a beat. "It’ll be my new best friend!" he declares dramatically, as if it’s the most reasonable thing in the world. "You don’t get it, Suguru. It has character. It’ll make the trip ten times more fun!"

By this point, you also needed a break. So you found yourself joining Shoko as the two continued to argue. You and Shoko, who have been happily munching on snacks while observing the aftermath of their ridiculous skirmish, exchange a glance. 

Shoko takes another bite of her cotton candy and grins. "At least they’re both having fun, don’t you think?" she says, her tone dry but amused. "And if you’re being honest, you kind of like having them around like this, don’t you, senpai?"

You blush at her words, suddenly self-conscious. "I... I mean, who doesn’t? They’re both good people. And good natured too!"

Shoko raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint never leaving her eyes. "Right. One’s a man-child who thinks a giant stuffed panda is a necessity and the other arguing about how that isn’t a necessity with the passion of a thousand suns. Hm."

You laugh, a little embarrassed but also entertained by how spot-on she is. "Okay, maybe they’re both a little much sometimes.  But it’s hard not to get caught up in their enthusiasm. Satoru’s—well, he’s fun. And Suguru keeps that well–balanced, don’t you think?"

Shoko gives you a knowing look, her smile a little softer now, and you realize she might have noticed something you haven’t quite put into words. You shift uncomfortably, but before you can think too much about it, Satoru comes running back over to you, holding the giant panda up in the air like it’s some sort of victory flag.

"Look at this thing! Isn’t it amazing, senpai?" he says, practically bouncing with excitement. "I’m going to name it Taro. And no, Suguru, you can’t stop me."

Suguru sighs dramatically but can’t quite hide his smile. "I’ve given up at this point." he mutters, taking a french fry from your food box. "Do whatever you want."

You giggle at the dynamic between them. It’s like watching a child and his ever-patient older sibling, and it’s oddly endearing. You’d never had a sibling, but looking at them, you wondered if this is what it was like. 

"Well, Taro looks very... Gojo Satoru coded, don’t you think?" you say, reaching out to pat the plushie’s oversized head. "You two are practically made for each other."

Satoru beams at you, clearly thrilled with your approval. "Right? I knew you’d get it!" He gives the panda a dramatic hug, causing you to laugh even harder.

Meanwhile, Shoko, who's been quietly watching the exchange, takes another bite of her food before leaning toward you with a grin. “So, do you think this is a sign that Gojo Satoru’s never going to grow up?” she asks, a little teasing. “Our very own Peter Pan!”

You laugh and shrug. "I mean, who needs to grow up when you’ve got a giant panda plushie and a whole theme park to play in?"

Shoko nods sagely, as if this is the most reasonable thing in the world. "True. At least it keeps him entertained."

As you continue walking, Satoru and Suguru continue talking animatedly ahead of you, Shoko nudges you gently with her elbow. “But hey, senpai.” she says, her voice a little softer now, “I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s not easy for you. But you’re doing okay.”

The kindness in her voice catches you off guard, and you blink, surprised by the sincerity behind her words. "Thanks, Shoko." you say quietly. "I think I needed this. This moment, today."

“Good.” she says with a small, warm smile. “We all need to have some fun once in a while. Besides, Satoru wouldn’t let you get away without a little chaos. It's his specialty."

You laugh again, the sound light and free, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like you can breathe a little easier. Maybe you’ve been taking life too seriously. Maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to be a little reckless and carefree every once in a while.

And with Satoru pulling you toward yet another ride with Taro under his arm, you realize that you’re actually happy. Maybe this is what you’ve been missing—moments like these. Moments with people who understand you, who bring out your laughter, who make you forget the darker parts of your past, even if just for a day.

As Satoru hands you a churro, his grin wide and infectious, you feel your heart lighten. Maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to enjoy the chaos after all. You and the others continue enjoying the park, the laughter and chaos of Satoru’s little antics here and there providing a comforting backdrop, you find yourself starting to lose track of time. 

The once bright winter sun’s starting to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in a warm, golden light. You’re just about to take another bite of your churro when you hear a familiar voice call out to you from behind.

"Senpai….is that... you?" The voice sounds amused, a little teasing, and you immediately recognize it.

You turn, still holding the churro in your hand, and blink in surprise when you spot two very familiar faces making their way through the crowd. Iori Utahime is the first to wave, her expression a mix of surprise and slight exasperation as she spots you. 

Kusakabe Atsuya is also trailing behind her, looking as stoic as ever but with a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he spots you crowding with the Tokyo trio. You blinked and then smiled widely, waving at them.

"Utahime! Kusakabe!" you say, a little surprised but smiling nonetheless. “What are you guys doing here?”

Utahime smirks, crossing her arms as she gives you an exaggerated look. "I could ask you the same thing, senpai. But I guess it’s not surprising you'd be here.”

“Hm, I still live in Kyoto, no?”

“Yeah, I know. But considering all the hype Gojo Satoru’s been making about it, it’s a different loudness to behold." She tilts her head toward Satoru, who’s still clutching his giant panda plushie, clearly oblivious to the attention it’s drawing.

Satoru perks up at the mention of his name and waves the plushie in the air like a victory flag. "Hey, Utahime! Kusakabe!" he calls, completely unapologetic about the chaos he’s caused. "Come join the party! You guys have to ride the roller coaster. It’s amazing."

Utahime raises an eyebrow but doesn't seem all that surprised by Satoru’s little antics. "I'll pass on the roller coaster, thanks. But the food smells good, so I'll gladly join you for that." She glances at the churro in your hand and adds, "You’ve got the right idea, senpai."

You chuckle, holding up the churro in silent offering, and Utahime eagerly accepts. "Nice to see you’re indulging. It’s pretty good, this churro!" she comments with a small grin, then turns to Kusakabe, who’s silently surveying the park, arms crossed as usual. 

Kusakabe shrugs, clearly indifferent but still managing a rare, approving glance your way. "I’m just here because she dragged me along. She said it’s not good to hide away in the dorms all day.”

“I’m going to say she’s right.” You smiled at him. “You do hide away often, still practicing.”

“You’re not making a scene, are you, Gojo?" Kusakabe asks, his tone flat but carrying just a hint of sarcasm.

Satoru’s grin widens even further, and he walks over to Kusakabe, putting an arm around his shoulders in the most obnoxious, over-the-top way. "Making a scene? Me? Never!" Satoru says, practically vibrating with energy. "I’m just making memories with senpai and my friends, my man. This is what it’s all about!"

Kusakabe doesn’t even flinch, though you catch the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Right, right." he mutters dryly. "Making memories... with a stuff toy named Taro."

Satoru holds the panda up proudly. "Taro is my companion for the day! You can’t argue with that!"

You find yourself laughing, the sight of Satoru’s overenthusiasm, Kusakabe’s dry humor, and Utahime’s grin at the churro making the day feel even more perfect. It’s strange, but for once, you don’t mind the noise, the chaos. It feels... easy. Fun. Like this is where you were always supposed to be. Somehow, it was like the old days again.

"Okay, I’ll admit, senpai." Utahime says after taking a bite of the churro. "This place is pretty fun. I didn’t expect it to be so fun. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you till now.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, smiling. "See? I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Especially on the food.”

“Oh, I think it’s the best part!” She grinned at you.

“Right?” 

“Utahime–senpai!” Ieiri Shoko called out on the other side of the park cross, smiling as she held a shopping bag on her shoulder and another in her hands. 

Utahime blushed and smiled widely, waving back as she came rushing to her. “Shoko, you’re here too!”

You blinked, turning to Suguru. “Does she……”

Suguru laughed at your assumption. “I would have thought you would notice it first, senpai.”

Kusakabe chimes in with his usual deadpan humor, his arms still crossed. "I don’t know about you guys, but I was hoping for a more relaxing day. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

"Relaxing?" Satoru repeats with a dramatic gasp, as if the very word offends him. "Who needs relaxation when you’ve got theme park rides, food, and Taro here to make everything better?"

Kusakabe sighed heavily. “I can’t believe my day off is going to be spent like this.”

You smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “Don’t mind, Atsuya.”

///

YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT YAWN AS THE PARK GREW DARKER. You can feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones after hours of running around the theme park, riding everything from roller coasters to bumper cars, and indulging in far too many snacks. Your feet are sore, your eyelids are heavy, but there's a sense of contentment that you can’t shake off. Despite the chaos and noise, you’ve enjoyed yourself more than you thought you would.

Utahime, who had been tolerating Satoru’s antics all day, is clearly at her breaking point. She glares at him as he laughs, still carrying around that ridiculous plushie, and mutters something under her breath about "never going anywhere with him again." 

Shoko, ever the voice of reason, is beside her, trying to calm her down, though it’s clear she’s also amused by Utahime’s exasperation. You can think that the supposed crisis was averted when Shoko took her to go shop at more stores with her.

They were holding hands too, which made Utahime feel a little bit more at ease.  Kusakabe had gone off to follow them, when Satoru indulged in more rides. 

Geto Suguru, with his usual composed demeanor, is also enjoying the calm—his serene expression only interrupted by the occasional glance in your direction on his right side, already starting to feel the weariness of the day.

Unlike Gojo Satoru who had a boundless energy in him, you were already too tired to do anything except sit down. You had made your way over there, feeling like your legs might give out at any moment. As you sit down, your exhaustion catches up with you, and you rest your head on the back of the bench for a moment, just to steady yourself.

Without thinking, you lean toward Suguru, resting your head gently on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the soft weight of his presence beside you. It’s comforting. Safe. The world around you fades into a blur as your eyes flutter shut, the exhaustion finally pulling you under.

The sound of Satoru’s voice breaks through the haze of sleepiness. "Hey! Where’s everyone gone off to?!" he calls out, his usual loud, boisterous tone cutting through the air. You can hear the faint sound of him approaching, his footsteps getting closer.

Suddenly, you feel Suguru’s shoulder shift slightly, and you crack open one eye, only to see Satoru was standing in front of you, his mischievous smile wide. He’s about to say something when Suguru, with an almost imperceptible shift in his expression, raises a finger to his lips.

"Shh…." he says, in a voice low enough that only Satoru can hear. “Senpai’s falling asleep.”

Satoru blinks, surprised for a moment, before his smile softens and he looks down at you, still leaning against Suguru with your eyes closed. He crosses his arms, tilting his head, clearly trying to contain a grin. "Look at you two. So cute." Satoru comments quietly, his voice teasing yet soft. “Oh? Is senpai drooling?”

“Shhhh….let senpai sleep already.”

Suguru’s dark purple eyes flick up to meet Satoru’s infinite blue, and there’s a brief, silent exchange between the two of them. Suguru doesn’t even need to say anything. Satoru already knows. He looks down at you again, then back at Gojo with a small, barely perceptible nod.

Satoru, never one to back down from a playful moment, smiles even wider, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial whisper. He lets his finger trace against the edges of your hair. He smiles. 

"You know, you look really cute when you're asleep like that, senpai." He leans in closer, but not too close, his voice soft enough so you won’t hear him. “Get some sleep.”

Suguru glances up at Satoru once more, his calm demeanor never shifting, and he simply says, "Satoru, please.." His tone is polite, but there’s an edge of finality to it that even Satoru recognizes.

Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, clearly enjoying this more than he probably should, but he obeys, taking a step back. "Fine, fine." he mutters playfully. "But I swear, if I had a picture of this, I’d have it framed."

You barely hear him, still drifting in and out of sleep. There’s a soft, comforting pressure on your head from where your hair rests against Suguru’s shoulder, and the rhythmic sound of his breathing calms you, making you feel like you don’t need to worry about anything for a while.

You feel a smile tug at your lips, the warmth of their presence wrapping around you like a blanket, and you let yourself drift deeper into the comfort of the moment, surrounded by the quiet affection.

And then it happened.

Satoru looked up as soon as Suguru did.

The soft shift of your sleeping form caught their attention. You stirred slightly against Suguru, instinctively curling in a little tighter, your body seeking warmth as a chill swept through the room.

Suguru’s expression softened, his eyes tracing your movements, but it was Satoru who spoke first, his voice unexpectedly quiet. “It’s snowing.”

The faint glow of the streetlight outside caught the flurry of snowflakes falling from the sky, dusting everything in a soft, peaceful white. The world outside felt miles away from the cozy warmth of your shared space, but the beauty of the moment lingered between them.

Satoru’s usual playful demeanor faded for a moment as he watched you shift again, his gaze softening. It was rare for him to be still, his mind always racing with a thousand thoughts, a thousand plans. But the simplicity of the scene made him pause.

Suguru glanced at the window, then back at you, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while, huh?”

Satoru chuckled under his breath, but there was a softness to it that didn’t quite match his usual carefree tone. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s nice to just... be here. For once.”

The snowfall outside grew heavier, the world outside becoming a blur of white. The silence between the three of you stretched on, comfortable and warm, until Suguru shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you. He adjusted the blanket, making sure you were tucked in tightly.

“Let’s just stay here for a bit.” Suguru murmured. “No need to rush back into the chaos.”

Satoru nodded, his grin returning as he looked at the falling snow. “Yeah, I think we all could use a little more of this.”

You didn’t wake, lost in the warmth of the moment, the sound of the snowfall outside blending with the quiet of the room. For a moment, everything felt like it could stay this way forever—still, serene, and untouchable. They wanted it to.

The night stretched on, and the snow continued to fall. And in that quiet, the weight of everything outside seemed to fade, leaving just the three of them, comfortable in each other's company, wrapped in warmth, surrounded by the calm embrace of winter.

Everything was great, that last Christmas.

The next year, you thought about these memories.

And just as much, you cried too much about it too.

Because you were alone again, without them to lean on.

But you would never know about it now.

[crushmeeren]

no bc thinking about akutagawa, the port mafia dog that everyone thinks is so scary (he is) but who is actually the biggest gentleman. who hates plants bc they’re such a hassle to take care of, but who buys you flowers and puts sugar in the water vase to keep them alive ! 🫧🫧

who also just loves biting you. who is the biggest dick in bed, choking you and watching you cum with slits for eyes. who’ll kiss your throat right after he bruises it.

i forget if this is canon or not, but i saw somewhere that he doesn’t know what the frilly thing around his neck is called 😭 (i think its a cravat?)

Oh my FUCK!! Just like that I’m being sucked in and writing about him… Also I think that’s correct, it’s a cravat. Levi from AOT wore one too.🤤

master list link

You’re right…. Ryuu is such a fucking guard dog — a Doberman, if you will. He’s tightlipped and terrifying when he tails you around town, or anywhere really.

You want a few inches of space while you’re in the bar? At the store? At a birthday party? Too fucking bad. He sneers at everyone who gets too close, challenging each person who dares chat you up in his presence without a single word. You smack him in the chest when he pushes the line, teasing him with a “down Ryuunosuke, be a good boy.” He huffs, unhappy, but backs off for the time being. Until something sets him off again.

Although you have to use an unfair amount of willpower not to show it, Ryuu’s aware, and smug, about the fact that his protective and obsessive behavior tugs on the part of your brain that tells you to shove him into the sheets when you get home.

This isn’t to go without saying that Ryuu’s such a sweetie when it comes to you. Like tooth rotting sort of sweet. It’s not so much displayed through words, but rather it’s spelled out in his actions. As stated above, the man does not have a green thumb. First off, plants require far too much attention. Attention that he’d rather spend on you. Second, even if he has tried to grow plants before, though he swears he hasn’t, they just seem to mock him. They die and if he’s honest, he can’t be bothered with whether they live or not.

But, for you, Ryuu did just enough research on how to keep flowers off of life support. When Ryuu brought you flowers for the first time and he noticed how your eyes brightened, how you buried your nose into soft petals and inhaled a lungful, only to hum in delight and aim the single most affectionate look he’s ever gotten at him, well, he needed the flowers to live for as long as you willed them to.

Ryuunosuke loves to suck bruises along your throat, your collarbone, any unmarked part of your body he can get his hands on. It absolutely ties into his possessiveness. You tell him he’s a “territorial ass,” but you moan his name and tilt your head to the side, spreading your thighs open as you insult him. You ask him for more kisses without really asking him.

He rolls his eyes but one side of his mouth twists into a smile, fitting himself snug between your legs. He always comes back with “Yeah? Well you’re a fucking brat,” pressing the harsh words into your collarbone. “You think I won’t mark what’s mine? That I’d let anyone not know who owns you?”

It’s got to be common knowledge that Ryuu is a jerk in bed. That he likes to tease, likes to edge you, even ruin your orgasm once in a while because his dick gets hard when you cry. A thrill races down his spine when you let him choke you, stomach drawing in tight. The pads of his fingers press deep into the sides of your throat, making your head throb and your cheeks flush hot to the touch when all your blood rushes to them. He almost bites the tip of his tongue off when your pussy squeezes the life out of his cock.

On the other side, something probably scratches the out of reach itch in Ryuunosuke’s brain when you take the reins from him. He’s always got too much on his plate, and being able to give up control satisfies his secret desire to be taken care of. His expression is never more open, never more loving, more tender than when you’re riding him. It’s slow and steady, you appreciate every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of your pussy.

You brace your hands on either side of his head and Ryuu stares up at you, his heavy lidded gaze mirroring yours as he pants, these small puffs of air that are just loud enough to make out. You repeat the smooth, steady rise and fall of your hips, lips parting and a breathy “Ryuunosuke,” drips off your tongue. You play it up a bit, knowing how worked up Ryuu gets when you moan his full name.

It works this time as it has all the others.

His breath stutters in his chest, nails digging in and pinching your ass. “Ryuunosuke, please baby, make me cum. Your cock is so good, help me.” Your pussy squeezes tight around him.

Ryuu’s eyes begin to roll, lids fluttering before he lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re playing with me, angel.” He’s too smart, he realized what you were doing from the get go. He secures his arms around your waist and rolls until your back hits the mattress. “Such a helpless little thing for me, aren’t you princess?” He pushes his hips forward and you swear the tip of his cock presses against your cervix.

Ryuunosuke trails his fingers up the underside of your forearms, tickling you, and laces your fingers together, pinning your hands by your head. He dips down to whisper in your ear.

“You don’t have to worry, my angel. I’ll ruin you. You’ll never think of another man or want someone else’s cock ever again.”

You belong to Ryuunosuke, but you knew that already, didn’t you?

[stars-obsession-pit]

I feel like the potential of different methods of treatment of Jason’s Lazarus Pit side effects in DPxDC fics is often underutilized.

Like, yeah, the crossover brings in more ghostly stuff that could help, but it’s contamination on his literal mind/soul (definitely soul in a DPxDC context, idk about in DC canon) brought on by an unnatural resurrection. At least to me, that feels like it should be significant.

Having Danny just reach in and pull it out or Frostbite treat it in a basic procedure feels almost… cheap?

Like, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it being easy. Stories don’t need to go deeply into the soul healing process; if it’s not meant to be major plot point, it can absolutely be just a quick thing! I’m not trying to insult those stories at all!!

But I feel like there’s a lot of room for more complex or esoteric stuff in there to be explored!

Some ideas for such unique condition things under the readmore:

What if his “revenant” thing some fics use comes into play and the only way to remove it is to fully achieve his revenge? And if that’s the case, what if someone/something else kills the target of the revenge without his influence? Yeah, the person is dead now, he’s technically avenged, but he wasn’t the one to get the revenge. So does it still go away, or is he stuck with it? If he still has it, is it just permanent now or can he just find some other revenge method (ruining their legacy or etc) to break it?

Or oppositely, what if he literally can’t achieve that revenge or his body will die again, its mission complete. Thus, his only way to survive and remove the side effects is to smother all those vengeful urges until they fall silent. Which could make that “someone else kills the target unrelated to him” thing from the previous idea now the good ending - basically guaranteeing his survival since he can’t achieve the vengeance as easily now and can move on. Or maybe it’d be even worse as it forces him to move on regardless, dying randomly when the target of his revenge meets their comeuppance.

What if cycling out the corrupted ectoplasm is a long-term process of meditation (and/or emotional control) - something that takes up significant space in his life and forces him to plan/work around until it’s complete (reduced work hours, avoiding certain situations that might cloud his thoughts, etc)

What if he needs to obtain some sorts of special items/materials (either connected to his own life or more general ghost stuff) for a cleansing ritual, forcing him to go on some sort of quest(s) before he can perform it and recover

What if the tainted spots on his soul can’t be fixed, only excised, leaving other types of consequences for his mind/soul (some that will gradually disappear as the “incisions” heal, others that persist in the scars left behind)

What if the healing process requires him to go over his memories and smooth out the jagged emotional edges left by the Pit, and he isn’t experienced enough with ghostly matters to do on his own, so it forces him to get help from another ghost (and thus bare all his secrets to them)

What if the Pit Rage has to be fully pulled to the front - leaving him completely consumed by its control - before it can be literally fought back and suppressed

What if it can be healed only by taking pieces of healthy ghosts to patch him up - which’d require a lot of smaller ghosts (e.g. blob ghosts) or could potentially only need a couple if he’s willing to harm more intelligent ghosts for it (which Jason likely wouldn’t do, but he’s hardly the only person who’s been revived by the Pits…)

[ashipiko]

SCHOOL-SIDE STAYCATION! ☆

AKA: Ashi’s 1K follower event! hosted by: 🌺🦊🛍️

EVENT SUMMARY:

“Say, haven’t you ever gotten tired of all the strenuous, brain-numbing labor that comes with being an NRC student? Then, say no more~.”

Night Raven College’s new student-ran event, hosted by Ashi Tamadai, the Ramshackle prefect, Niko Cimarron, a Scarabia second year, and Atlan Trein, a Pomefiore second year, introduce to you a courtyard makeover! Decorated with cheerful decorations that’ll put you in a mood to kick back and relax, this program is meant to bring the student body together, to make some happy school memories!

“Don’t forget, an important part is the fact that there’s like, no magic needed. So tell everyone you know! You don’t want to be the only one NOT going, right?!”

At this school-side staycation, students are welcome to tan on some chairs, buy a pawpsicle to enjoy in the hot, late summer sun, or even just sit and chat with friends! Anything is welcome here— A karaoke session is planned, and so is a water balloon fight! The point is to relax. No magic is needed to have fun, and it’s preferred if you didn’t use any at all. All classes are cancelled and even the teachers and staff are bound to swing by! Isn’t that so kind of the people who organized it?

“So TOTALLY swing by with all of your friends, everyone! Enjoy this summer sun and all it’s treats while it lasts~ ☆”

EVENT RULES:

Anyone is welcome to join!

Pretty much everything can be an entry; artworks, fan made cards, drabbles, edits, etc etc. As long as it’s appropriate, does not have anything NSFW, and doesn’t have any sensitive content. It’s supposed to be a lighthearted party!

Utilizing parts of the event are highly appreciated, but defo not needed. For example, if you were to draw your character in the midst of a water balloon fight, eating a pawpsicle, etc etc. Just ideas, but no pressure!

All characters can be used for this event. Canon characters (staff, side characters like RSA, etc), and of coursies any OCs/yuus! I don’t mind any multiple entries for a canon character either. Have funsies!

I’ll also be participating with the respective 3 OCs hosting the event! Their cards will come soon~

If your entry prompts an OC interaction, I’ll try my best to reply with a chibi and interaction back.

Also, there’s honestly no due date or window for this event. I’d be really happy to see your entry, even if you think it’s come a little late.

Please tag me in all of your works!!! I WANNA READ AND SEE THEM ALL!!!

The aesthetic is a sort of summer-like feel. A cheerful summer day where you laugh with friends and have fun while taking bites from your favorite ice cream. Making memories that you’ll never forget!

Aesthetic and dress code is down below! ↓↓↓

The dress code is not strict at all. The only necessary thing is that you must wear something bright and/or colorful. Tis an Ashi rule! Otherwise, it’s completely fine if it’s just a slight variation of the NRC uniform, or maybe a completely new outfit nonetheless. I’m not one to judge your fashion choices.

EVENT RESOURCES:

*BG edit done by me!

If you want to interact with my characters, here’s what they’ll most likely be up to:

🌺: Since she’s the actual host, Ashi will most likely be walking around and chatting up with everyone. Open to taking pictures, hyping up the crowd, announcing when the water balloon fight and karaoke will be starting— You’ll most likely find her basically doing everything she can. She’ll be there the entire time!

🦊: As the co-host of the event, Niko will also be walking around and be there all day, additionally with the fact that he’ll be selling his pawpsicles. And advertising them. To everyone. No matter what, he’ll probably walk up to your character and every character in attempts to sell something. He’s not as hyped up as Ashi, but he’s 100% enjoying his time.

🛍️: Atlan, despite only being recruited to spread word of the day off, can be pretty easily found within the crowd at the celebration. He’s trying his best to talk, despite the fact that he’s hiding behind a wall and his oresama aura. If you were to walk up to him and start a conversation, he’d be flustered but reply excitedly.

ASHI’S EVENT ENTRIES:

Ashi’s SSR 〜 GROOOOVY!

Niko’s SR 〜 GROOOOVY!

Atlan’s SR 〜 GROOOOVY!

PARTICIPANT EVENT ENTRIES:

Amaterasu 〜 @yumeko2sevilla

Ines Marvilla 〜 @shinysparklesapphires

Sidney 〜 @babyghoul138

Kanae Yoyume 〜 @beneathsakurashade

Chikyuu + Epel Felmier 〜 @asteroidtaker

Wei Jie + AshAce 〜 @ceruleancattail

Reese Kingbit + Kingsley Rule 〜 @kickasscentral

Tessa Kingbit 〜 @kickasscentral

Yuuki Kamiyama 〜 @theolivetree123

Hopper Benedict 〜 @theolivetree123

Alice + GROOVY! 〜 @sinjaangels

Lázaro Muertinez 〜 @the-trinket-witch

Kai’s OC Batch 〜 @distant-velleity

Leota Yuleman 〜 @twsted-canvas

Yani 〜 @kouro7

Joseph Akaba 〜 @readsrandomstuff67

Alyssa 〜 @annasahc

Teddy + Niko Cimarron 〜 @yuus-sentient-teddy

NRC staff 〜 @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

Aster Fanare 〜 @0kiwisalad0

[sammyluvr]

warm brown jacket — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, mentions of canon typical gore, violence, and bloodiness at the very beginning, mentions of being casually shirtless around each other kind of?, dean teasing a little, barely edited, 1.3K words. requested ! for my 200+ followers event [ closed ]

prompt : sharing clothes in a totally (not) friendly way

you’re used to the grime and gore of the job; you don’t really have much of a choice. but the whole front and back of your shirt and jacket are so unpleasantly sticky from a horrid concoction of blood, mud, and maybe more, that your fingers itch to peel the layers from your body as you head for the car. of course, you’re just going to tough it out until you can shower and change at the motel. you know that sam and dean will let you take the first shower tonight; they’re not the ones who beheaded a vampire then got shoved into a mud puddle by a second right along with the decapitated body gushing blood from it’s stump of a neck. it sucked, to say the least.

you can’t resist pulling your jacket off, and you’re lucky that it gets rid of most of the mud. but it’s the front of your shirt that took the brunt of the blood, and it’s sticking to your skin, warm and just about dreadful. there’s a rustle beside you coming from sam, and you don’t have to look over to know the sounds of him taking off that big brown carhartt jacket. your favorite.

it’s only when he nudges you, holding the fabric out for you to take do you look at him. he’s got that pretty, borderline awkward smile when he’s trying to be subtly sweet. he doesn’t want to make you feel self-conscious about the mess on your clothes, but your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt and the grimace on your face that’s so subtle just about no one else but him could spot it, and he knows instantly that the stickiness of your clothes is bothering you.

you smile at him, not too wide so you don’t accidentally show him that he makes you feel in love, and accept the jacket with one hand. you’re trying to maneuver your own mess of a jacket away, but sam takes it from you with a soft, “here, i got it,” as you near the car.

“thank you, sam,” you say, pausing at the door so you can shrug the much cleaner layer on without being confined to the small car.

“course,” he replies, all casual and kind as if he isn’t dying to see you put the jacket on. then he remembers his manners. “dean and i’ll look away if you wanna,” he forgets how to be smooth for a moment, clearing his throat as he gestures vaguely to your bloody shirt, “you know, get rid of the shirt too. ‘m sure the blood’s worse than the mud.”

“right, of course. don’t wanna get the inside of your jacket covered in the blood anyways,” you agree, glad sam said something about that because you weren’t quite sure what to do. you certainly didn’t want to keep the shirt on, and you’ve been shirtless around the boys plenty before because of the way you live out of motel rooms, but with sam so close like this, waiting for you to put on his jacket, you feel the tips of your ears go flaming hot at the idea of taking your shirt off without some sort of awkward warning. this way, sam’s being an utter gentleman and taking the shot for you when it comes to who’s the most awkward this time around.

sam gives you his silly, pursed-lip smile and his dimples pop out and all you want is to kiss them til they never go away. he slides into the car, and as the door shuts closed, you turn your back to the impala, tuck the jacket between your knees, and shimmy the mess of a shirt off your body. a chill of air hits your sort of blood-wet skin, making you shiver before you can drop the ruined shirt and pull the warm layer over yourself. but the second the soft fabric is over your shoulders, then around your arms and torso, it’s sweet heaven. sam’s body heat lingers, warming you in an instant and pushing a sigh of relief from your parted lips.

the time-worn softness of the fabric is glorious after such uncomfortable textures, and though the metal of the zipper is a little chilly against your stomach as you close the jacket around you, you couldn’t care less about that. 

a moment later, you’re settled into the back seat, trying not to look at sam to see if he’s taking in how you look in his favorite jacket. instead, you catch dean’s eye through the rearview mirror and he sends you a teasing wink that has you stuck between rolling your eyes at him and flat out planting your face into your hands to hide.

the ride is quiet save the few minutes in a fast food drive-through. dean grumbles about the restaurant’s lack of pie as he drives off in the direction of the motel.

standing in the motel room, you hate to take off the jacket, but it’s a must if you want to shower and get the rest of the day’s grime off of you and down the drain. sam’s already assured you that you don’t need to wash it for him, so you leave it on the foot of your shared bed before you head to the shower. you know that he likes to pack up any piece of clothing he isn’t using right away.

you try to keep your shower short for the sake of your companions, though it’s difficult when the hot water feels so comforting and cleansing. even so, being back in your own clean clothes afterwards is certainly nice as you leave the bathroom after brushing your teeth and running through your short post-shower routine.

sam’s sitting at the table across the room and dean stands from his bed, ready to shower next. you’re expecting to mourn the loss of the jacket on your bed, but your eyes immediately fall on the nicely folded bundle of brown fabric placed neatly by your pillow. unable to resist, you walk to it and pick it up, placing it on your lap as you sit on the edge of the bed. you try to catch sam’s eye to silently ask what he means by leaving it there, but it almost feels as if he’s avoiding your gaze in favor of staring at the book in front of him.

since you can’t get sam’s attention, you turn to dean before he can go, but all you get is a sly smile before he disappears into the bathroom. 

it has got to be your raging crush on pretty boy over there, sitting so close and far all at once, that’s making you jump to silly conclusions. but the barely visible blush on his cheeks, his refusal to look up when he heard you pick up the jacket, and dean’s knowing look makes it feel like sam wants you to put that jacket back on. and you do too.

so, you stand and turn as if you’re not looking at sam anymore, but you’re careful to keep him visible out of the corner of your eye as you unfold the fabric and put it back on. the ac is too strong; it’s cold, you tell yourself that’s enough of an excuse.

if you could tuck sam’s pretty brown hair behind his ears like you so often get the urge to, you bet the tips would be pink. even with his face half blurry in your peripheral, you can see the look he’s giving you, because he is looking now. it’s an expression you don’t see on him often at all; he’s the kind of guy to always school his features away from betraying what he thinks and wants. this time, it’s loud and clear and you can feel it as much as see it. you, wrapped up safe and warm in his jacket, are exactly what he wants. 

you think you’re gonna kiss him, and he’s gonna kiss you back with his hands clutching at that soft brown fabric to be sure it’s all real and glorious like he thinks it is.

[robinsno1lesbian]

𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬༄｡°

-r.b. x reader

summary: robin buckley summer headcanons!

warnings: lots of fluff!! some (hinted) 18+ content, oral sex, vaginal fingering (fem!receiving obviously), mention of weed, non-sexual nudity & skinny dipping (let me know if i missed anything!)

a/n: send me your requests for my summer fics & find my guidelines here!

❀ in summer, robin takes you to lover’s lake right after work to cool down (after spending your shift sorting in vhs tapes in sweaty uniforms, it’s a pleasant way to spend the afternoon)

❀ she sunburns so easily! the fact that she constantly forgets to apply her sunscreen doesn’t make it better either.

❀ so she always has a slight sunburn on her rosy cheeks.

❀ “i’m not sunburned at all! this is a tan”

❀ she loves to apply your sunscreen though, regardless of how careless she can be herself: she always helps you in the places you cannot reach. she’ll draw random shapes and patterns on your skin before spreading it.

❀ robin’s freckles are even more prominent in summer and you spend hours counting them as you lie close to her.

❀ robin will never not insist on buying you a sweet treat: mostly ice cream that she’ll later kiss from the side of your mouth.

❀ she also frequently goes to hawkin’s public pool with you and the rest of the group (where she will act like a kid)

❀ she’s in the water 24/7, constantly begging someone to join her.

❀ “come on y/n!! the water isn’t thaaaat cold! i’ve been in there!”

❀ if you decline, she’ll get out just to give you a tight hug while the water is still dripping from her.

❀ when she’s not bothering you, she’s splashing water at steve or busy having a canon ball contest with him. (again: literal kids.)

❀ but if you do join her, she’ll pull you close under the water or carry you around on her back, enjoying the possibility of being close like this in public without catching anyone’s attention.

❀ later, you’ll lie in bed with her, the two of you sharing kisses that taste of sunscreen and the last remains of pool water she’s soaked in all day.

❀ falling asleep is hard with the summer heat threatening to suffocate the two of you, but comes much easier when you’re home alone and don’t have to bother to wear clothes.

❀ her bare body pressed against yours, her chest rising and falling with even breaths, is enough to soothe you to sleep, regardless of the heat.

❀ this often leads to wandering hands in the morning though…

❀ …when the sun is still rising and a comfortable breeze is going through the room. when you wake up to soft kisses peppered down your back and robin’s hair tickling your neck.

❀ …when robin’s voice is still raspy from sleep as she asks you if you’re okay with it and instead of answering verbally, you pull her on top of you and taste the laughter from her mouth.

❀ …when she grinds down against you, and you move back up against her and you have to stifle your moans because she left the window open.

❀ “that’s my girl. so good. i wish i could hear you. you’re so pretty”

❀ so you end up coming with your face pressed against her pillows and her head buried between your thighs.

❀ her savings are not enough to take you to europe just yet, but she insists on taking you to a beach town for the summer vacation. somewhere where no one knows the two of you and you have a place for yourself.

❀ she loves to talk you on long walks along the shore, where she holds your hand and steals quick kisses when there’s no one around to see.

❀ robin brings french and spanish books that she’ll read to you while you’re sunbathing. you don’t understand what she’s saying, but there’s something comforting about the way she pronounces each syllable, while she runs her fingers through your beach waves.

❀ one night, she convinces you to go skinny dipping with her:

❀ it’s nearly 3am, you’re both a little high from a joint you’ve shared and there’s no one around to see.

❀ she’s giddy when she sheds her clothes for no one else but you to see and races you to the shore.

❀ the water is cold, yet robin’s body warm, when she wraps her arms around you from behind and pulls you into the waves of the sea.

❀ she holds you over the surface with ease so you can wrap your legs around her and cover her in salty kisses.

❀ you can kiss her openly that night, and enjoy being close and affectionate with her without having to worry that someone might catch you.

❀ robin collects the prettiest rocks and shells for you while you’re sunbathing.

❀ she’s constantly moving, walking along the shore as she’s looking for new things to find among the seaweed and sand.

❀ she then sorts them on your back and puts them down along your spine while you’re still dozing in the sun.

❀ robin definitely brings watercolors to the beach and paints the scenery.

❀ but she also has a camera she brings along to capture the moments, constantly snapping pictures of you when you’re not paying attention.

❀ after a long beach day, you can’t wait to wash the sand and salt off of your skin. you untie your bikini the moment you step through the door, letting it drop to the floor as you step to the bathroom with robin watching you.

❀ you beckon her over, then, and she stumbles over her own feet in an attempt to rush to the shower with you.

❀ she washes your hair under the shower, runs her gentle fingertips up your body, and traces your curves under the steam.

❀ only when you’re both clean and no longer covered in sea salt and sweat, she lowers herself down on the shower tiles until she’s kneeling between your legs.

❀ “so pretty. such a pretty girl”

❀ she doesn’t stop talking, not even when she puts her mouth on you and licks through your wet folds.

❀ “hmm such a pretty pussy too. taste so good for me.”

❀ you love to braid her hair, when she’s got her head in your lap and you’re listening to the soft sounds of the waves meeting the shore.

❀ when it’s your head in her lap, she’ll feed you the food she’s brought along; dropping grapes and apple slices into your mouth while she rambles on and on.

[miwiheroes]

Bylers, we need to talk about something…

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts pertaining to what will happen in season 5 relating to byler recently, as have we all, but I’ve also been wondering about the audience’s reaction to it if it happens.

Actually, i’ve been more concerned not about the GA’s reaction, but our reaction to how they handle it. I just want to say beforehand, that I might be projecting my issues with negativity and conflict (i’m a very very optimistic person it’s rough being on social media these days lmao) and I also very much believe that they will make byler canon in some way or another. It just makes sense with the narrative. But I fear we will never be happy with how they do it and we never learn from our previous mistakes lmao

Before season 4 came out, I sort of was a fan of byler, but i was very very casual, as in I didn’t interact with many fan theories, I wasn’t on twitter (still not on there because I have a phobia of negativity eek) and I wasn’t on tumblr, I would occasionally check out the edits and fanarts and I think I was just Aware of it, because I always root for the gay ship to happen ofc..

So when season 4 vol. 1 came out I was excited about the direction they were taking byler, and I could see that it was finally canon that Will was gay, rather than theorised. When season 4 vol. 2 came out, I had not been on sttwt or st tumblr during the time between the volumes because I had other fandoms prioritised around the time. I watched the Van Scene with my parents and suddenly I was acutely aware of just how gay they were (because I always get scared of watching anything queercoded around my parents lmao).

By the end of season 4, I was like YES! this season was amazing for a byler set up next season, although i was more focused on other characters too. I then kind of saw the byler script stuff but not the full extent of it, and I saw many edits and fanarts of them but that was it!

Now it’s 2024 and I have a major hyperfixation on byler, (due to the season 5 bts and the fact stranger things keeps popping up on my fyp it’s crazy) and now I’m on byler tumblr (not twt tho .. sorry) to find all the evidence I can and get all hyped up for s5! But I’ve also seen old posts from around 2022…

Literally every single one was extremely disappointed from season 4 vol. 2, and I was confused, seeing as I was very happy with it and I liked byler (my fave byler scene is from vol. 2 and no it’s not the van scene). If I’m being totally honest, and I might get some hate for this, I think we all had wildly, wildly high expectations and the disappointment was our own doing.

I personally never really judge a show before it’s finished (obviously not sitcoms and shows like that) unless it has really really terrible writing ofc, but I always choose to reserve judgement until all the character arcs are wrapped up and I can look back and see why things were made to be.

I understand the whole anger with Mike’s behaviour towards Will and how Will was treated poorly by him, but isn’t that the point? Mike loving Will back in season 5 would then be more satisfying after all that. It’s a set-up for the next season, no?

I don’t know why or how people thought that Mike would suddenly resolve all his internalised homophobia or something during that season, and I reckon if the whole season had come out at once instead of two volumes (i hate the two volumes thing sm omg) people would have been much happier because we wouldn’t have had time to create insane theories or unrealistic expectations that, let’s be real, were not in line with what we have seen so far with byler.

So, I just want to say that I’m a little afraid for season 5, because I know that byler will likely be canon, but people just won’t be happy because it won’t be in the exact way that they had theorised. Sorry to break it to you, but you, random person on tumblr, are not a screen writer. More specifically, you’re not a screen writer for stranger things.

I think it’s fun to theorise at the moment, but I just want to remind people that this pattern has happened before and we never learn? Like, none of our theories are coming true. Not one of them. Did I theorise the exact van scene? Did I theorise the part at the end where Mike grabs Will’s shoulder? No. But am I happy with those scenes? Hell yeah.

So on the build up to season 5, I just want to caution everyone to not assume that specific things are going to happen when it’s just a result of an echochamber (such as the milkvan breakup scene being right at the beginning or the painting being brought up). You’ll just be angry for no good reason.

The only reasons I’m personally going to be angry with how they handle byler is:

1. If it’s not canon and Will’s love goes unrequited/ he has another love interest somehow…

2. If either of them die after having a relationship during season 5 (bury your gays is stUPID)

3. If one of them dies before the other gets to tell them they love them/ kiss

4. If they get together without Mike apologising (it could be in literally any way, obvious or not) for his poor behaviour.

But that’s it, the rest of it is literally up to them.

Hope ur not too mad, but it just needed to be said.