going fucking insane over one of my wips because it's for a really small subgroup of a really small fandom of a really small fandom of a really big fandom that everyone fucking hates because people are cancelled like every other week and basically i cant talk about it with anyone without needing to explain like 60 pages worth of story that I wrote PLUS no one wants to talk about me because it's one of the cringiest ships in existence that sounds HORRENDOUSLY heteronormative on paper and like half the fandom calls them siblings even though they have been confirmed multiple times not to be and the other half is like oh the girl would never be in love with the guy because she's in love with the player!! as if being in love with her ideal of the player is healthy for her all and can't change or she can't fall out of love with someone whose interactions were limited to basically just looking at her, clicking through her text and DELETING HER
yeah so is about monipai as in monika from ddlc and senpai from friday fucking night funkin (i know. im sorry) im so down horrendous im on like seventeen doses of copium and counting and there's 11 total monipai works on ao3
one of them is mine and the other ones are either written by a 10 year old (because it's fucking fnf, what sane adult would write unironic fnf fanfiction) or unfinished (because fnf fics get no traction and unless you're fucking insane like me and have 60 pages of pure brainrot there is NOTHING keeping you going for such a nonexistent audience) and oh my god why am i here
the other fandoms ive been in recently are vashwood and shizaya and those are great!! those are normal!! vashwood has been getting boatloads of content that i cant stop looking at/reading and im getting fun ideas for aus and there's so many people in the community rn to interact with
and shizaya is a bit of struggle because the fandom is smaller but there's so much older content to go through/reread that it's fine and my posts about them get some traction and in some places you can actually talk to people who have been in the fandom from the beginning of time and overall it's a good fun time
AND THEN THERE'S MONIPAI. the ONE straight (bi4bi according to me and im always right) ship in fnf that no one likes because they're "sibling coded" for some god forsaken reason (and im usually all for sibling headcanons/prefer them over romantic ones but NOT THIS ONE SENPAI LITERALLY CONFESSED HIS LOVE FOR HER IN THE MOD) and it'll only make sense to people who like DDTO enough to not forget about it after playing like 19832529 other mods and even THEN like half of them ship it in the really cringe heteronormative way that dudebros ship them like GOD FUCKING HELL GET ME OUT OF HERE
ive never been madder about anything ive shipped ever. i LOVE getting comments on my fic and im surprised ive gotten any at all but holy shit
you know that one person who made like 3000 fics for their honeyworks throuple. honey i feel you cuz what the fuck is this
and with my usual ships i can send them to my friends who know what to expect and be like ok so these are the gayasses you're obsessed with this week but with this one. like the very premise is so ridiculous id be laughed out of their dms but this is literally like the most in-depth and serious ive gotten about any of my fanfiction plots ever (there's like themes and callbacks and motifs and everything, thats how you know it's bad). this is probably better written than my book drafts and it makes me SO MAD
ive even considered like. what if i just made them my ocs, since i've developed them so much and the plot is entirely my own creation. that might even be easier but the fic is so heavily based off of canon content that it just wouldntd make SENSE how am i supposed to rewrite all that canon lore when i take them out of it. i cant. im stuck tying them to ddtoverse
back to what i was originally talking about: basically i got this really nice comment on ao3 on my monipai fic and i was smiling really hard and spinning in my chair and i was inspired to try and write again so i update my. oh it's 71 pages. 71 page document to try and update chapter 3 and i end up going to my other ideas and workshopping them and suddenly ive penned down ideas for 4 DIFFERENT CLIMAXES?????????? AND THEY ALL HAVE THEIR PROS AND CONS AND THEY ALL BASICALLY LEAD TO THE SAME ENDNIG AND I DONT KNOW WHICH ONE TO CHOOSE AND I CANT ASK ANYONE BECAUSE IF THEY'RE INTERESTED ENOUGH TO READ IT I WANT THEM TO READ THE FIC AS IT'S BEING UPDATED BUT NO ONE'S INTERESTED ANYWAY
and trying to ask about which one i should choose while removing all incriminating details (read: monika and senpai's names) is so hard because there's SO much i have to explain as backstory and no one even responds to it anyway so there's no point :sob:
anyway i love monipai and specifically my version of monipai and it's legitmately ruining my life how's your day going
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by tradition, the first day of the camp was spent pranking the group next to us. our prank was ziptying the zippers on their sleeping bags together. we figured one of them would sleep with a knife, because we all slept with knives, because we were dangerous maniacs and half the danger of a dangerous maniac is that they tend to think that they are Actually Normal. so. obviously that didn't pan out, and instead they got stuck in their sleeping bags for like half an hour and because their scoutmaster slept in their car and couldn't hear them yelling, they actually only got out when one of them went full caged animal and chewed through the plastic. which meant they had time to make it to the axe throwing station, but they did miss breakfast.
the scale of our victory was impossible to understate. it was an epic prank. unrivaled. the best in years. we knew they were going to retaliate, and we both feared and craved it. maybe i'm still a maniac, but that feels like a common thing, right? do well adjusted people that are not maniacs crave Judgement?
(serious answers only please, from people who would never spoon a knife.)
anyway, the next day we got back to our camp, and the neighors had skipped dinner to just come back and fill all our tents with pinecones. which was like, a decent prank, i guess, but it probably took them an hour to fill all the tents up, and it took us like 15 minutes to tip the tents out, and as a return volley to the ziptie prank it was incredibly underwhelming. we felt a little cheated.
so our scouting group held a council, and we agreed, unanimously, that our prank was 100% better and theirs sucked and that there would be no escalating tensions because we were the clear victors. they'd had their chance to retaliate, and they failed, and so the war was over. that was it.
we agreed on this. we swore. but madness is a relative thing, and in our group of maniacs, we still had J. i have many, many J stories. too many. i biked up to school with him from 4th grade to 8th, and i saw him get hit by cars thrice. he'd just swerve into the road sometimes. one time on a rainy day in 4th grade, a car splashed me, and before i could even consider my response J yelled I GOT THIS and then he blitzed off after the car. i didn't see him the rest of the day. i was so anxious i barely slept that night. i saw him the next morning and he told me that he'd chased the car until it got to a gated community and then he'd climbed over the fence and looked in peoples garages until he found the one with the car, and then he'd ripped the hood ornament off and broke their window. then he gave me a hood ornament to a different brand of car from the one that splashed me and i didnt tell him because i didnt want him missing more school. i want you to mentally adjust your mental model of the things a 9 year old is capable of doing to include chasing a car for five miles, hopping a fence, breaking into a garage, and vandalizing a randos car.
and that's just the tip of my J stories iceberg.
the point of all this is just to say that J was so crazy that he made us knife spooners look like accountanting enthusiasts.
so we agreed the war was done, and we shook on it, and then J, in the name of friendship, in the name of honor, in the name of avenging our pinecone filled tents, snuck over to their camp that evening and fornicated with a watermelon that they'd been saving in their cooler.
i want to emphasize, again, that this was not the consensus of the group. that is not a prank. like i know it seems like we dont know what pranks are because of the whole ziptie thing, but even we knew that fucking someones food is not a prank, it is a crime, and a sin, the kind of weapon that had only been ethically used once in history by Horus in his battle against Set and none of us dumb assholes had owl heads.
so.
the next day went pretty well. we threw some more axes again, which is a valuable and important skill for children to learn i guess, and we learned how to tie knots, which is a skill that turned out to be far sexier than i ever expected, and i learned how to light fires with a magnifying glass, which was great. i'm looking back at this, and i am actually just now beginning to realize that the clear and obvious point of scouting is turning child sociopaths into apex predators.
and then the day ended, and we went back to our camps, except for our leaders, who had a sort of Scout Leader Meeting they were going to have for a few hours at least. it was built into the camp, that day was supposed to be our day to chill as a group, and make peach cobbler, and just be buddies.
except, as it turned out, our neighboring group's alternative to making peach cobbler was eating their watermelon. so at some point they opened their watermelon, and woo boy. oh man. you think catholics hated seedless watermelons? you should see how much mormons hate seeded ones.
so we were chilling by the fire, and then we heard screaming from the camp over, but we didn't pay much mind to that because there are many reasonable explanations for a group of 10ish children to scream simulanteoulsy, such as wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then the screaming got closer, which did not bother us because there were many reasons for a group 10ish children to scream and run towards us, for example, wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then we noticed they had large sticks on them, which we figured were perhaps being used to drive away the wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then they arrived and they started beating the shit out of us, abundantly, in arizona.
so we ran into the woods.
now, at this point, we had no idea what was up. we knew that the camp next to us was out for blood, which was crazy, because we'd actually locked them in fartproof bags for 30 minutes and they'd barely done anything back, and were trying to figure out what could possibly have happened that could drive them to Terrible Violence when we realized that J was cackling like a witch that had learned how to order children off of ebay.
so we politely asked J what the hell he had done, and he politely explained that had "done" their watermelon, and we politely beat him with large sticks because life is nothing but endless cycles of violence.
we were still being chased by the other camp btw. so it was them, chasing us, chasing J, and then they got tired and went back to their camp, and we chased J a little longer because we were mad we'd all been walloped with sticks, and J did not care because he was a supernatural entity whose only weaknesses were Needles and Fire, and then we got tired and went back and J kept running, and we just kind of figured he would come back eventually.
he did not.
we went back to our tents, and we waited, and J did not come back. we stayed up all night, peering into the forest, worrying. our leader came back, and we did our best to hide our battlewounds, and he either genuinely did not notice or simply accepted this as part of Boyhood. then he went to bed, and we waited, and waited, and waited. And Waited. and did not sleep.
eventually, we convened again, and we agreed that if J was not back by after breakfast, we would have to tell the scoutleader about what exactly had transpired. and we really did not want to do that, because it would have meant that everyone would have gotten in a very large amount of trouble.
morning came around, and J still was not back. we went to breakfast, and we ate very, very slowly. we were afraid the other camp was going to continue their war with us, but they actually looked fairly frightened. one of them actually came to us and asked for a truce, and we agreed because we truly felt bad for them. like, yes, they did beat us with sticks, but J fucked their watermelon. we werent complicit in the watermelonfuckening but they didnt know that, and it was definitely the kind of crime that left one outside the bounds of the social contract.
and then when we could eat no more bits, when breakfast was almost done, right when i was getting pushed to go and tell the scoutleader that we needed to find J, he arrived. he was sleep deprived, and noticeably scraped and bloody, and tied to his belt was a blood squirrel tail.
and i asked him, J, where did you get that? and he said, don't worry man, it was already dead, which did not answer by question and gave me several more.
the camp ended that day, and the other groups avoided us like the plague, and it was not until some weeks later that we were able to piece together what happened.
J, in his sojourn through the forest, managed to find (or, possibly, make) a dead squirrel. he then cut off the tail to keep on his belt, because he was a weird little freak like that. he also took the dead squirrel, and he skinned it, then he tied it to a little crucifix made of wood, and he left it in the other scouting group's camp. which is why they were so scared of us.
it was such an unhinged thing to do it actually sobered us up for a while. scouting became a scary thing for us. we'd found something dark and primal there, in the place where no adult could see, and our appreciation of J as a wild ride kind of changed into seeing him as something truly dangerous. we had a sense wherever he went, something terrible would follow, and the only way to escape it was to not be there when it arrived. and so piece by piece, the scout group dissolved. it wasnt until he moved out of that ward that the rest of us started daring to go back to scouts.
and for the final epilogue of the tale:
i have a little brother who was friends with a younger cousin of J's, and the two would go to parties together in highschool. and sometimes J, who was in his early 20's at that point, would show up at the parties, and it was unsettling in such a way that it just became a known risk at parties with the cousin. and at one party, they were playing truth or dare, and J wasn't even in the room, but someone asked him the Truth of how he always knew how to find the cousin, and J said the cousin's mom had mentioned she was worried about him and the parties so he'd put a tracker in his car. and when he saw that the cousin was out of the house on weekends, he'd made a visit by, just to make sure he was safe.
then he left. and every single person at that party went over that poor kid's car. they searched the wheel-wells, checked underneath it, the works, until they found the tracker. then because they were clever, they didnt break it, or throw it away, or anything that would've given away what they'd done. they just gave the tracker to the cousin, who put it in his glovebox. and on schooldays, he'd take it with him, so J could see him in the parking lot. and on weekends, he could leave it in the garage, so he could go to parties with out Hell coming with him. because everyone that met J - every single person - knew that the only way to be safe from him was to be far, far away.
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Oneshot
Request by @purplereaderfans
Prompt by @satoshy12
DPXDC
Aged down Danny beating Tim in college..
“Okay Danny, remind me of the rules again” Jazz looked to the kid in her arms, the kid was eating a bright green popsicle. Like the kid wasn’t a toddler and wouldn’t get sticky.
“Uh.. rule one! Don’t be loud! And if I have questions raise my hand.” Danny struggled to hold up one finger but when he managed he held it up his popsicle in his other hand.
“Rule two! Don’t interrupt with stupid things. Like puns or fart jokes!” Danny pulled his hand down again and stared at his hand till he got two fingers held up then which a looked at Jazz with a grin
“Then rule three! If I need the bathroom or food ask you,” Danny held up his thumb this time making three fingers being held up.
“Lastly! Don’t wonder off! Like momma and Daddy!” Danny put his hand down and put the popsicle in his mouth hurriedly licking up the melted popsicle off his hand.
“You forgot one Danny, Rule five dont Fenton the others here. You know what that means right?” Jazz asked bending down and opening the backpack she had packed it was basically a diaper bag. It held wipes, emergency ectoplasm, change of clothes, the Fenton Thermos, and many other things Jazz had knew they would need. Jazz had dug around in the bag and pulled out the wipes ready to clean Danny up when he finished the popsicle in record time.
“Yeah! It means.. be respectful of others bubble’s and no ghost things! Also don’t tell other people of things I shouldn’t know about them but I do know-“ Danny licked off the last bit of the ectopop enjoying the melting ecto in his mouth. He then gave a short scream as Jazz attacked him with the cold wipe. Cleaning off the ecto off his face and hands. She took the popsicle stick and wrapped the wipe around it and put it in the diaper bag.
“That’s right, now I know you’re not as old as you used to. And I don’t know your mental age right now. But I promise you won’t get in trouble if you do have an accident or something you would describe as childish.” Jazz stood up picking up the backpack in her hand and putting one strap over her arm and walked out of the stall. Where she was hiding when she noticed Danny looked dizzy and a bit pale. She guess it was the old ectoplasm in the air that he was absorbing. She guessed right and when Danny ate the emergency Ectopops he went right by back to normal.
She sat Danny in the bathroom sink and put the bag to the other side of him. Her body was in front of him so he couldn’t fall off the counter. As she washed her hands getting rid of her own stickiness Danny had put on her. Then she put the bag on both her shoulders and picked Danny up resting him on her hip Danny arm wrapping around her forearm instantly.
Danny was looking around as all babies did as Jazz walked out the bathroom pulling out her phone to look at her schedule.
“Okay, first is introductory psychology. Which in in building F.” Jazz mumbled to herself looking up and putting her phone back in her pocket and started to walk through the dorms.
_________
“Danny, you remember what happened last time you chewed on a pen?” Jazz asked looking over at her brother who was sitting in the seat next to herself. The chair was pulled closer and a random assortment of things were on the table in front of him.
“It explodes in my mouth..” Danny frowned taking the pen out his mouth. The pen had many teeth marks.
‘Well that explains the blue mouth of the kid..’ Tim thought to himself he was two chairs back a bit higher than the two siblings. He had started to wonder about the stained blue mouth and the blue marks on his hands and around his mouth. Even the kids teeth were stained blue.
Tim was in introductory Psychology as his minor. He needed to know more about what was going on in peoples head. It would help with many things.. even learn some tricks he could use on his siblings maybe? He was majoring in astronomy weirdly. Tim knows just about anything on Earth but when it came to the stars he was admittedly lacking.
He was curious about the kid when he overheard the kids sister suggested to the kid about asking the astronomy professor if he could sit in during a class as the kid was incredibly bored in the psychology classes. Danny, names were also learned from his eavesdropping, looked at his sister like she hung the stars which Tim didn’t doubt that to him, she did.
_________
Oh. My. Clockwork. Jazzy has the best ideas! And Profess Brunn is so nice! She says I can sit in on a lesson and if I’m good I can do it again! Jazzy just dropped me off at the classroom and gave me to Profess she sat me down in the front row so she can keep in eye on me. I asked if I could ask and answer questions and she said yes!
“All right guys! Since we just came back from break we’re gonna be getting back into it with our last lesson! I’m gonna do a review on last lesson and then hand out a paper. It will be worth a grade so please actually try” Professor Brunn started the class with energy most of the class didn’t have.
__________
Who the hell is this kid?!
Tim stared at the laptop with a blank face. He was in the front of the class staring at the paper taped to the board. Usually he wouldn’t bother but that kid, Danny, finished quickly and even asked if there was more. The professor sent out the five best grades to encourage or something. Usually Tim was first.. but he wasn’t this time.
Or the next. Or even the next before that.
It was fine because it was just the one class for almost a week. Then that kids name just started to show up more and more on each list. Till on every class Tim took it was Danny Fenton first and Timothy Drake second. Jasmine Fenton third usually second before Danny appeared.
Tim was genuinely questioning if he was mind controlled. Did he get a concussion and not notice? Did he have a chip in his brain that made him stupider? Was he losing his mind? Did he need to start sleeping more regularly.? Did he need to cut down his caffeine intake? He only drank a few coffees a day.. not including the energy drinks. But- but. What’s happening to him?!
_________
“What’s going on with Drake?” Damian scowled as he looked over to Grayson next to him. He was standing behind Drake with Grayson after he had been called to pick up Drake after he had picked up Damian from school. Damian followed his brother’s gaze to Professor Smith, the engineering professor, who was at his desk looked at them with amusement.
“He was second place in the scoring this week, he’s been staring at the paper for maybe half an hour after class ended” Professor Smith told the brothers
“So?” Dick shrugged looking back to his brother putting a hand on Tim’s shoulder which snapped the other out of his despair, “It wouldn’t be the first time,”
“Yeah, but this time it’s been multiple weeks and to the same kid. A four year old to be exact” Professor Smith added before looking to door as someone knocked and it was opened
“Sorry, Danny here forgot his notebook in here” Jazz held open the door for her little brother to slip in and run to a table that had a black notebook with stars draw on it. Jazz held her hand out for Danny to take it as he came back. Danny turned and waved to the Professor as the door shut after them
“Danny, the child genius, has beaten Timothy here.. five weeks in a row now in this class. But Danny only came to the campus after Christmas break. But I’m guessing the number will only continue to grow,” Professor Smith continued as he watched the door shut and the two other wall away through the door window.
Tim, who just watched his new four year old nemesis wave bye to him, had a twitching eye. It also didn’t help with the demon laughing at him and Dick holding in his own laughter..
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! Calling all ed accounts !
I know this isn't going to be seen as much as I think it should but it is important anyway. There is an account going by fuzzypatrolking that is harassing ed based accounts. They are claiming that this isnt a safe space for us and that we use it as an excuse to indoctrinate children into ed culture.
Many of us say minors DNI and block anyone who is a minor
even my therapist isnt mad at me for looking through ed tumblr (yes fuzzypatrolking I have a therapist go cry about it)
My ed developed from physical and sexual abuse when I was just two years old which destroyed any positive thinking about my body, having other adults who can relate to my experience is helpful and counts as a safe space
If you dont want children looking at ed content thats on you the parent not the rest of the internet... parental controls exist.
Many people who have ed accounts vent and don't give tips, we never body shame each other or others, its an eating disorder that changes OUR preception of ourselves not other people
Fuzzypatrolking also claims the accounts they have interacted with have called them fat... which most likley means they are interacting with minors
We understand we are mentally ill, we never claimed to deny that. Most of us are in therapy those who arent like they claim are most likley minors who dont know how to startr conversations.
Of course I am going to get mad at the whole account reporting. I have had 10 accounts termed in the past 4 years and have then lost a lot of amazing people who knew what I was going through and could support me when I was mentally unwell (not that my feelings are theirs to control)
If they are so mad that we are harming minors why are they not talking about fake ana coaches who actually prey on vulnerable teen girls to get nudes in the form of 'body checks'
Stop harassing mentally ill people who are finding the support they need to eventually recover. You are not helping. You are harming. Instead of talking about the real causes of eating disorders you push that blame onto those who experience the same eating disorders.
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HEART TO HEART : GOJO SATORU
what is heart to heart? a show in which we bring two people who have history together to ask them a couple of interesting, heartbreaking questions.
today's episode: 27 year old Gojo Satoru broke up with his girlfriend 4 years ago, yet he cannot move on. does she feel the same? and does a person really not move on even after four years?
note: i started this…without a second thought. i dont know where its going or if its gonna do well. but i enjoyed it very much
a cold room, a white set, two chairs and a table—satoru gojo knew that the point of this very simple and minimalistic set was to make him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but a tiny vase would’ve been appreciated.
“why did you two break up?”
the ivory haired man leans back in his chair with a dry chuckle, fingers drumming along the surface of the wooden table.
“I was insecure,” he admits rather bitterly. “I just had a lot of things to work on, and letting go of her seemed like the right thing to do.”
“do you miss her?”
“oh, absolutely,” there’s a smile on his face when he says that, and sits up straight with his hands clasped together (an indicator that he was most likely anxious to be asked such vulnerable question). he goes on to squeeze his hands a bit and his lips are sealed shut for a bit before opening them again. “I thought to myself that I wouldn’t find love for a while after her—but it’s been four years, and I cannot get myself to move on.”
“has she moved on?”
“maybe? I’m not sure,” he lets out a nervous laugh and looks away from the camera before holding his head in his hands, there was a mental battle going on inside his head—before he finally decides to speak again. “I actually stalked her instagram account last week through a mutual friend and… I didn’t see a man on any of the pictures. she could just be super private.”
“was she private about being with you?”
“she would post pictures here and there, we didn’t like to keep our relationship a secret.”
gojo is handed a blindfold and he neatly wraps it around his eyes and waits, heart thumping loudly in his chest.
when you were asked by a friend if you would do this interview, a part of you was a bit hesitant just because you weren’t sure if you wanted to air out your love life like this and have to deal with the consequences of a potential future lover being upset about it—but when you were told that it was gojo satoru, your ex-boyfriend whom you dated for 3 years and were planning on building a future with—that is until it abruptly ended with no warnings whatsoever. perhaps you ignored the tornado warnings? were there even any to begin with? you will never know because you blocked him everywhere on social media. from instagram to his phone number. you couldn’t deal with the fact that he existed around you, near you yet you couldn’t have him.
four long years of not having seen him took a toll on your heart, as it sure gets excited the moment you spot white strands on top of a head that is laid out on the table. his sense of style is still so casual and laid back, but not in a cocky way. satoru has always been about feeling comfortable in your clothes but you notice his tense shoulders and his foot tapping and can immediately tell that he is anxious.
you silently pull the chair back facing him and he lifts his head off of the table. your hands rest on top of the surface and the producer finally asks gojo to take off the blindfold.
when he does and you two lock eyes, you both start smiling big but you can’t help the little tremble to your lips before you look away from the camera to wipe a few emotional tears.
“sorry,” you whisper but your mic was able to pick it up. almost on instinct, satoru reaches towards you and squeezes your arm reassuringly.
“when was the last time you spoke to one another?”
“four years ago.” you are the one to answer the questions now and you keep avoiding satoru’s big blue eyes.
“was it hard having to walk away from a long term relationship?”
“It’s always hard when you thought there was a connection,” your emphasis on the word “thought” makes gojo look down at his lap almost in shame. he had no time to explain himself or what he did, yet he couldn’t help but feel that this interview was going to be like a second chance to explain himself and perhaps give a proper apology.
“you had no closure?”
“nope.” you both answer at the same time and it feels as though feelings of resentment are starting to resurface as your demeanor grows cold around him and you pull your hands away from the table.
“why do you think you broke up?”
“you said you couldn’t really see us together anymore,” you were now speaking to satoru directly and he gladly took the heat of your words. “you said…that us being together was just a waste of time and that one of us has to walk away,” you were clearly hurt by his words, even four years later. the breakup took a toll on you both physically and emotionally. you were incapable of going on dates for a painfully long period of time that your friends had to drag you outside to meet some potential new partners—but none of them felt like satoru. you resented him for crawling into your heart and finding a safe space there, for settling down and building a warm house inside only to tear it down and leave as quickly as he came.
“I wasn’t… sure what I wanted to do at the time, I was confused about my future,” satoru admits for the first time ever. “I thought it was so unfair to drag you down that hole with me when it was so clear to you that you had a plan in mind—a secure one so I just-“
“left.” you finish the sentence for him and he lets out a pained laugh.
“yeah, I left. and when I realized that you had blocked me, I knew that there was no going back and that I actually did it. yknow, like, it wasn’t this bad dream where I would wake up and you were still beside me—you were actually gone, I made you leave.”
there was a long silence after this and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not after that confession.
“did you miss me?” gojo takes the initiative to ask this question instead of the producer but they don’t complain, watching carefully as you look back at your ex partner.
“I did,” you say again in a whisper, almost scared that you coming to terms with this horrible realization was going to hurt you further.
“do you think that…we could’ve worked out had I been honest at the time?”
“satoru, I would’ve never left you as easily as you did,” you knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but you want him to know that your love for him was bigger than he ever thought.
“would you like to try again?”
you two stare at each other for a bit and you sneak your hand towards his huge palm, resting your index finger there and tracing soft circles.
“yeah… I want to. do you?” you look up at him through your eyelashes and gojo’s heart feels as though it is about to burst.
“I would love to.”
2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
—💭 if you like this, leave me a tip!
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