#anyone who already knows how to use it will Know and it's Basic and Obvious

[in-class-daydreams]

Note: Gojo & the reader are ~40 in this, Sen is 18, and the guy you're seeing (if you don't already know who it is) is aged up accordingly (~30)

Imagine your and ex-husband Gojo's son Sen finding out you're seeing someone.

"You're going on a date?!" Sen asks in disbelief. "With who?"

You smooth out your outfit and check yourself out in the mirror. This look is one of your best, if you do say so yourself.

"Does it matter?" you ask neutrally. Sen is just mature enough to not blatantly freak out at this revelation, but only just. The less he knows, the better.

"Of course, it matters! I need to know who to hunt down if you disappear!" he replies, hands flying up to fist in his hair. "I need to vet this guy!"

Your ex-husband appears in your bedroom doorway. "Who are we vetting?"

Clenching your prospective clothing in your hands, you grumble, "Doesn't anyone knock any more?"

Satoru leans against the door frame like he's someone's booktok boyfriend (he used to be your booktok husband but that's beside the point). He takes in how you've cleaned up and instantly recognizes your date look. Of course, he's only seen it a million times.

"Oh, the kid didn't know you had boyfriend?" he asks.

"Boyfriend?!" Sen cries. Your temple throbs. "Who is he?"

Satoru shrugs. "I dunno, I just know he exists and his one move is sending flowers because he's basic."

"He's not basic and he is not my boyfriend!" you shout, throwing your hands in the air. "We go on dates, yes. We're seeing each other. 'Boyfriend' implies exclusivity, and none of the people I'm seeing are my boyfriend."

Your son and ex-husband stare at you wide-eyed. As Sen gets older, the black roots of his hair have become his last line of defense against looking like a carbon copy of his dad, and having both a young and old(er) Satoru look at you with their stupid big blue eyes is unsettling. Someone hurry up and blink.

"What?" you ask tiredly.

This time it's Satoru that has something irritating to say. "'People?' As in plural?"

"Satoru, don't start."

Sen raises his hand. "I'm with dad on this one. I don't trust anyone with you, not even dad--"

"Thanks, kid."

"--much less strangers."

Part of you understands that your son and ex-husband are the two people in the world that love you the most. Growing up as isolated as you did, your younger self would never have imagined having the both of them in your life. They're just trying to protect you.

The other part of you is on the verge of telling them both to step the fuck off.

You're all saved by the doorbell ringing and before you can even react, both of them are at the door interrogating whoever's on your porch. But you always met up with your dates instead of them picking you up in case of this exact scenario. There was no way he came to the door without your permission.

Sprinting to the door, you find your son, your ex, and a terrified-looking deliveryman holding a bouquet of flowers. You shoo the boys away from him and accept the flowers with thanks and a generous tip for dealing with them.

There's a handwritten note attached. It reads:

You didn't think I'd let you walk out the house without a present, right? Pretty girls need pretty flowers.

You can't hold in a grin. He always found ways to go above and beyond even without an official label.

"Well, at least he's a sorcerer," Sen says. He gestures to the note, "There's a teeny bit of residual CE on there. Not enough for me to recognize, though."

You try not to make your sigh of relief obvious. Sen was still in training and Sukuna said his ability to recognize specific cursed energy needed some work. Getting advice from his dad would help, but your son got his stubborn streak from you.

"Well, good. I don't need you tracking him down." Handing the flowers to Sen, you ask, "Put these in a vase for mama, please?"

Sen, ever the obedient son, runs off to do so immediately. You fondly watch him round the corner into the kitchen, then double back to grab you and place a kiss on your cheek.

"I don't like this, but please be safe, mama! Call me any time, I'll be there," he says, then returns to his task.

Once he's out of sight, you slip your shoes on, holding Satoru by the shoulder to stabilize yourself.

"I'll be back before 11. There's pasta in the fridge and I just washed the sheets in the guest room if you want to stay over," you tell him. Pulling up the back of your shoe, you look up at Satoru to find him stock still looking past you. You can't see his eyes, but you can tell they're fixed on the card you received.

That's when you remember that while your son may not yet be at full potential, veteran sorcerer, strongest in history Gojo Satoru knows damn well who sent you those flowers.

Shit.

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[avocado-writing]

Hi gorgeous could I request a Deadpool x reader x Wolverine smut where it's basically the car fight in the movie and the reader is in it? Reader can regenerate just like them but during the fighting things for a turn? Also female reader :)

sure - I’ve seen a few takes on this, so here’s my brief one too! (I am not an action writer. I am a smut writer. Be kind).

words: 2k

rating: explicit. minors dni. spit roast; oral (reader giving); p in v sex; violence as foreplay; excessive use of the word ‘fuck’; a LOT of dirty talk

If you could trade all your powers for the ability to make Wade Wilson shut the fuck up, it would be no contest. You wouldn’t be a mutant and Deadpool would be silent. 

Fucking hell, how many holes has his mouth dug you into? He’s a dear friend, of course - one you’ve definitely not been nursing a crush on, don’t look at that too deeply - but come on. The guy’s an idiot. You don’t know how he managed to get someone as ruggedly handsome and emotionally constipated as the Wolverine to come along with you (not that you’re complaining, he’s pretty good eye candy too. You’ve had a thing for the idea of him for probably about a decade and, though this particular variant is as rough as they come, he’s still hot) but there has to be a time limit to this success. This is only accentuated when Logan slams the brakes on the Odyssey, throwing you forward from your position in the captain’s seat. 

“Fuck!” you mutter. You definitely just broke your nose from the way you slammed into the cup holder. Turns out seatbelts are made to be worn, who knew? As you focus on twisting it back into place, feeling the cartilage heal and blood congeal, you’re vaguely aware of the argument happening up front. 

Logan’s finally cottoned on to Wade’s bullshit, and it giving a pretty savage monologue about how much of a fuckup he is. You frown. 

“Come on, dude, chill out, he was only trying to —”

“You can shut the fuck up too! You’re just as fucking bad as him! Jesus Christ he may be shoe-in for the world’s biggest asshole but you’re the one trailing around after him with the fucking puppy dog eyes,” Logan snarls. You see Wade frown from under the mask, letting Logan’s vitriol towards you sink in.  

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” His tone is serious. Deadly. Logan laughs. 

“Or fuckin’ what, mouth?”

He does not see the sucker punch Wade throws, and then his nose is bleeding. He lunges for your friend with his teeth bared. A wild animal.   

“Stop-!” you shout, darting forward to grab him. An elbow collides with your already sore nose and you yelp in pain. Wade has a knife in his hand immediately and is sinking it into the soft meat of Logan’s thigh, who hisses and extends his claws. One set goes through your calf, the other into Wade’s chest. 

“You fucking cunt!” you scream, grabbing your gun from your belt and unloading it into Logan’s centre mass. The force makes him retract his hand but doesn’t stop him from grabbing your hair and slamming your face into the console. 

“Shit!”

“I told you that you needed a haircut, pookie,” sighs Wade as he shoves baby knife into Logan’s jugular, having to reach over your body to do it. You shoot him in the kneecap. 

“Ow! What the fuck, I’m on your side!” he shrieks. 

“Don’t talk about my hair Wade! It’s a very! Sensitive! Subject!” You punctuate your sentences with fists to the Wolverine’s abdomen. He doesn’t even seem fazed. Instead, Logan lunges for your friend, pressing his groin into your face - and that makes it very obvious that he’s having a… reaction. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper, not loud enough for anyone to hear. 

Logan throws Wade out of the car, the sound of breaking glass a symphony behind you. Some of it decorates your hair. The two of you are left with a second alone; when you reach forward he goes to punch, but when you cup him through his suit he freezes. 

“What…?” Logan snarls, half taken aback, half turned on. 

“Sorry, old man, all the fighting working for you? Surprised you can even get it up any more…” you breathe. From the way his pupils dilate the answer is yes. Pain shoots from your chest as his claws stab you through the heart, but you grin and reach in to lick a line up the side of his face, burying your tongue in his beard. 

“Fuck… you…” he manages, growling when you bite the shell of his ear a little too hard. 

“We don’t have to fight, Lo.”

The door is ripped off Wade charges back in, throwing you into the back so that he can get at Logan. Clearly he mistook your flirting for fighting, when it was definitely the other way around. He unloads a clip into the other man’s stomach, but you grab his arm and redirect, sending a spray of bullets through the Odyssey’s ceiling and grazing your shoulder. 

“What are you—?” asks Wade, but then his face is in your hands and you’re kissing him over the mask. A pause as he registers what’s happening. Then he buries his sword through Logan’s chest to keep him pinned as he wrestles with the fabric, freeing his mouth so that he can kiss you back. 

“I don’t understand,” Wade breathes, taking you in, eyes wide and breaths heavy. 

“Don’t try to,” you argue, pulling his blade out of Logan and cleaning the blood off it with your tongue. Wade clearly isn’t entirely sure what’s going on, but from the way his mouth drops open, he’s never been so horny for something so weird his whole life. 

You turn to Logan and kiss him with his own blood on your lips. He grunts beneath you, sinking a claw into your hip to keep you in place. It hurts, but also…

“Fuck. Sadistic old man,” you breathe, sinking your nails into his face.  

“Little fuckin’ freak,” he replies, biting your lip so hard it bleeds. 

“Holy shit, is this happening?” Wade asks. You manoeuvre so you’re aimed towards his lap, grabbing Logan’s arm and forcing it out of you. Your blood spills down your flank. 

“Stop commenting about it and fuck me, Wade,” you sigh.

He looks across the length of you to Logan who gives a curt nod. 

“Put your fuckin’ money where your mouth is, bub,” he hisses. This is all the permission Wade needs. You hear him tearing at the belt of his suit, positioning himself so that he can free his cock. There’s no time to strip. This is going to be rough and dirty and mostly clothed. 

You’ve never been so glad to dress in a two piece in your life. 

Your fingers work with Logan’s at the fly on his suit as Wade’s hands drag your pants down; he traces the cheeks of your ass, kneading your flesh and giving a running commentary of how fucking pleased he is. 

“Holy shit, baby, look at you. Thought honey badger was the kinky one here but you’re dripping wet,” you hiss as he slaps down on the meat of you, throwing a look over your shoulder at him. He shrugs as if to say, what did you expect me to do? Logan’s hand on your jaw quickly guides you back. 

“Eyes on me,” he growls, finally able to pull his cock from the confines of his suit. It bobs in your face, thick and heavy and delicious. The fingers still cupping your face press down, popping your mouth open for him. When Logan’s thumb presses inside you suck on it so hard that his eyes go wide; it tastes of blood and dirt and fuck you can feel yourself leaking down your thighs as Wade rubs his length against your folds. 

No more encouragement is needed as you open your mouth and swallow as much of Logan down as you can fit. He groans above you, hands burying into your hair. 

God, he’s big. Fucking threatens to dislocate your jaw. Oh well, you could click it back into place anyway and keep going. It’s the sort of thing you’re willing to compromise on if you can keep getting him to make those noises - filthy, laboured, desperate. Bucking his hips upwards into your mouth to make you take more of him. You moan around him and the rumble of your throat makes him hiss, pulling your hair so tight he threatens to rip it out. 

You don’t care. 

You wonder why Wade hasn’t pushed inside you yet, and your question is answered when you hear him spit. You’re aware of the feeling of saliva dripping down your cunt, thick and halfway to sordid. Wade rubs it into your clit, marking you as his, before finally sheathing himself with one thrust. 

Ohhhh fuck. Yeah. There it is. 

You moan around Logan’s dick as Wade stuffs you absolutely to the brim. You’ve never been so full. Your mouth is stoppered and so is your desperate pussy, and when Wade starts to piston himself inside you it only serves to force you forward into the older man’s lap. The hair at the base of his cock presses deliciously against your lips and he makes a choking sound that could be your name. His hand, still present, is less strict now. He holds you in something akin to a caress. 

“Fuckin’ look at you…” he breathes. You want to roll your eyes at him pretending this is anything other than gratification. You leave his cock with a wet pop. 

“You just want something warm and tight to cum in, old man,” you say, letting your hand take over for a second while your jaw rests. 

Wade laughs as he holds you even tighter, but there’s something tinging it. Bitterness?

“You should see the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice, pookie. Looks like our Wolvie is smitten.”

You glance up at Logan from where you’ve started kissing the length of his cock, and he looks… disgruntled. Oh shit. Wade’s hit a nerve there. 

“She’s clearly fuckin’ in love with you, you idiot,” he snarls. 

Wade’s hips stutter as he’s pistoning in and out of you, this unexpected revelation interrupting his pace. 

“You are?”

Aww man, this isn’t the time for this, but it looks like it’s happening anyway, huh?

“I like both of you,” you say, simply, because you do. “That’s why both of your cocks are inside me. Now put them to work.”

There’s a beat as they digest this information; then Wade starts fucking you twice as hard, lifting his leg up on the gearstick for leverage, and Logan pulls you mouth-first back into his cock. You make a pleased noise as they fill you, happy to let yourself go brainless for a moment as they use you however they want. There’s a warm feeling building in the pit of your stomach and you can feel an orgasm wanting to crescendo. 

Soon you hear Logan begin to breathe heavily, and you’re pretty sure he can’t be far. You make a show of looking up at him with your biggest, most fucked-out eyes. 

“Cum in my mouth,” you say, pulling back and sticking out your tongue as a target. He is powerless against that, spilling down your throat as you grin at the taste of him. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking filthy, so fucking hot, holy shit, holy shit,” Wade breathes, thrusts getting erratic. Suddenly Logan is lifting you up by the shoulders, pushing you into Wade’s embrace.  

“Make her cum or I will,” he says, and you’ve never heard an orgasm be used as a threat before but fuck it does it for you. Wade’s hand scrabbles to your clit and it only takes a few desperate circles to have you coming all over his cock as he fills your cunt with his spend. Logan manages a boneless grin at the show. 

You collapse between them, and they support you. For a moment there is nothing but the sound of breathing and the smell of sex.

For a moment. 

“Are we a polycule now?” asks Wade. You roll your eyes fondly at him and slap his arm where it’s slinked around you. 

“Shut up,” you and Logan say in unison. 

“Okiedokie, guess we can address that if there’s a part two.”

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[verareids]

feel the same - s.r. x bau!reader

spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3

also posted on ao3

“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”

Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be. 

He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.

“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation. 

“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”

“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.

~

Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.

When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?

~

The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.

“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.

“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.

“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.

“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.

“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.

“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.

“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.

“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”

“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.

“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.

“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.

“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.

“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback. 

“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”

“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.

“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.

“You didn’t tell me either.”

“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.

“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm. 

You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)

[mrfoox]

Ok over an hour later and no im still a mess...

[tiramisuc0ffee]

The Ghost of You.

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Summary: Mechmaru manages to succeed in informing the higher-ups of Jujutsu Tech about the patchwork curse's plan to seal the strongest sorcerer, Gojo Satoru. With this, the higher-ups begin formulating a plan on how to secure their victory and take advantage of the information bestowed onto them. However, one thing Gojo could not have thought to be suggested was, you, who supposedly died over a decade ago.

warnings/tags: Takes place before the Shibuya incident arc. Brief mention of events that took place in JJK0. Mentions of death. There is angst but also fluff! Soft sex, Satoru really loves you :(( Friends to lovers(?) SMUT. MDNI.

word count: 10k+ (I NEED HELP)

Bonus Prequels: i. Warm Afternoons ii. Cold Nights

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

"A sorcerer that's able to amplify the cursed techniques of others? Something like that is possible?"

Itadori Yuji's eyebrows furrowed as he voiced his question, contemplating the words that Principal Yaga had just spoken to the assembled group of Jujutsu students and sorcerers.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was tense and undeniably suffocating. It had been a matter of hours since Mechumaru's warning had been delivered. A plan to seal away the strongest sorcerer, Gojo Satoru, into the prison realm, and to bring complete and utter chaos to Shibuya and its civilians on October 31st.

Those gathered in the room were fully aware of how crucial this advantage was and how important it was to utilize it. However, there was also a mutual understanding that the perpetrators had to be aware of their own disadvantage, and would have to find some way to compensate for their slip up.

This brought an endless amount of "what ifs" into question.

"Yes. Someone like that exists with such a technique. The ability to not only limitlessly amplify their own raw cursed energy but to amplify the cursed energy and the techniques used by anyone they come into contact with" Yaga responds to Itadori's question.

"What if we just simply don't send Gojo-Sensei into Shibuya?" Itadori then says with such carelessness, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. "If that person can amplify their energy limitlessly, don't we basically have our own super soldier who can overpower anyone alone?"

It is then Megumi who cuts in with a calm rebuttal, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's not about having unlimited cursed energy, Itadori. There are inherent limitations to such abilities. Even for someone who can amplify cursed energy, there's a threshold to how much they can sustain. Using cursed energy at such heightened levels consecutively poses significant risks and exacts a toll on the user."

Yaga sends a slight nod in Megumi's direction, confirming the information he shared with Itadori. "It is also unlikely our perpetrators will reveal themselves unless Satoru is present. Rushing in prematurely not only risks escalating the danger but also endangers innocent civilians, who could become casualties as a means to negotiate Satoru's presence."

A beat of silence fills the air.

"We, however, are getting ahead of ourselves," Yaga then continued, redirecting the focus "We have yet to establish contact with this sorcerer".

Gojo had been uncharacteristically silent amidst this discussion despite it heavily revolving around him. Between the relentless back and forth of his peers and students who each were chiming in with their own individual questions, wonders, and suggestions - he sat in his chair, arms crossed, leaned back, and sporting an expression that no one other than Shoko Ieiri could understand.

Her tired eyes fell onto the snow-haired man, noticing his stiffness and unusual quietness. She too understood where this conversation was headed and what words were about to be announced.

"Some of you already know who I am talking about. Yes. (L/N), (Y/N). A past student here at Jujutsu Tech, who was once presumed dead, has been rumored to be alive," Yaga finally discloses, his tone laced with a certain firmness. "And over the course of several years, we have finally managed to narrow down her general whereabouts".

Satoru felt his jaw clench ever so slightly. Shoko notices.

"If we wish to minimize casualties and maximize our strength- It is crucial that we locate her and attempt to persuade her to join our cause" Yaga continues with determination.

Chatter began to fill the room as Yaga took a momentary pause, his gaze shifting onto Satoru as if to gauge his reaction. The topic at hand brought forth several mixed reactions. Rumors in the form of hushed words floated around the room, some true some false as some even questioned who you were and how you met your demise.

But all Satoru could hear was your name. Repeated. Over and over.

...You... were alive...

"However," Yaga broke the silence once more, his voice cutting through the room and his gaze remaining on the blindfolded man, "we can't just send anyone to convince her. We suspect there is a veil with special conditions where she resides."

Satoru's teeth grits and his fingers dig into his sleeves ever so slightly.

"Only Special Graded Sorcerers can enter and leave the veil as they please. Though, this won't affect the plan I originally wanted to propose."

"There is only one person we can send in after her."

"Satoru."

---

It was a tranquil scene. A vast expanse of green and rolling hills for the eye to see. An empty clearing surrounded by trees. The grass swayed gently with the wind, creating this ocean-like rhythm to it. Leaves danced through the air, being carried along effortlessly and brushing past Satoru's figure.

And of course, at the utmost center, a pitch-black dome stood in contrast to its surroundings. A veil.

This was the alleged location of where you resided.

The meeting concluded with Yaga requesting that everyone but him and Satoru leave the room. As individuals shuffled towards the exit, Satoru's gaze met Shoko's briefly as she sent a small sympathetic nod in his direction. She knew better than to try and console him or give him a mess of strung-together comforting words.

His lips thinned in response, not giving any further acknowledgment to her gesture. They both knew he wasn't one to show his underlying emotions to anyone.

However, he found it surprisingly difficult to suppress his personal feelings as Yaga disclosed your potential coordinates to him. Normally, he was able to compartmentalize these sorts of things in his brain without worry. Dethatching his emotions from the work he had to do because, at the end of the day, these were the things that simply needed to be done.

"I understand how you may feel, Satoru. But I know you understand the importance of her recruitment and why you have to be the one that goes after her"

It just had to be done. There was no negotiating that.

He allowed a faux wide smile to take over his features as his eyes stared at Yaga through his blindfold.

"Leave it to me."

But deep down, he wasn't all that shocked that he had been bothered by all of this.

This was you we were talking about after all.

Satoru couldn't help but chuckle to himself quietly, he thought about how this is exactly the kind of location a sorcerer such as yourself would choose to hide. For a moment he wondered what took Yaga and the others so long to narrow down your whereabouts.

But a frown tugged at his lips. It's not like he was any better.

He began to walk towards the center of the clearing, heading straight towards the veil before him, his footsteps being muffled by the soft grass underfoot.

Everything up until this point had just been speculation. Right now everything was nothing more than mere rumors. Whispered theories. Red strings on a corkboard. There hadn't been any concrete evidence, no sightings in public, no security footage, no candid photographs that proved you still existed in today's society.

But as he approached the outer rim of the veil, his eyes boring into the deep pool of black- It dawned on him.

He picked up the lingering traces of cursed energy.

And without another thought, he walks through the veil with ease.

---

"You're wasting your time on training? Come watch a movie with me, I haven't seen you all dayyyyy!!"

Satoru's whiney voice echoed throughout the open space of the gym from the moment he entered and spotted your figure. Your back is turned to him as you swing at a punching bag in front of you.

It was both of your second year at Jujutsu High. And as per usual, Satoru was putting all his energy into annoying you rather than into anything productive. Despite your irritation, there was no mistaking the undeniable bond that you and he shared. You and Satoru were attached at the hip. Wherever you were, Satoru was there. And wherever Satoru was, you were right there at his side rolling your eyes at something he said.

He kept his gaze on your form, watching as you paused briefly before sending him a sour look. He let out a small snicker in response as he couldn't help but find your annoyance amusing.

"Yes, Satoru. I am training. Some of us take pride in putting in the hard work." You say with a pointed voice before continuing to throw punches, practically sensing the shit-eating grin that had been developing across his face.

He purses his lips, he didn't necessarily disagree with your mindset per se, but he always found it humorous to get a small rise out of you- that and he would rather die than ever utter the words "I agree" to you. You'd never let him live it down.

"Like you need to do that," He says with a careless shrug. "You're strong as is." He beams in your direction as he starts walking towards you, getting close enough to be able to watch as your face contorts into one of confusion before giving your shoulders a gentle roll. You continue to throw punches.

He huffs when he doesn't get a single word out of you, his smile only faltering for half a second when he finally gets close enough to you. He carefully studied your expression. The way you were so focused and determined, the way your eyes held that look of concentration whenever you were focused and putting your mind to something, he loved it. Even though he thought that you'd always been a bit of a pushover, he couldn't deny your dedication was admirable.

"Can you back up, you're in my space." you then say, more of a demand than an ask as you recognized how close he was getting to you.

He ignores your quip, not moving an inch, "C'mon short-stack, people like us don't have to worry about tedious things such as training." He said in turn, sending a knowing look your way. You knew that he believed what he was saying too, which was irritating. He fully knew the strength behind both yours and his techniques. The baseline of power for the two of you was lightyears ahead of many measly sorcerers.

"You're so full of yourself" You scoffed, pausing once more, letting your arms drop to your sides and finally turning to face him fully. "All you do is go on about how you're the strongest. Now please, back up Satoru," you said with a harsh glare before poking his chest with your pointer finger.

He didn't move an inch, infinity not even needed for him to continue to stand tall above you, his grin stretching out to a full-on smile.

You didn't know it, but he had just won. At least, he felt like he did.

He's gotten your full attention.

"Ooh, I like it when you get all snappy and bossy, it’s a good look on you." He looks down at you with smugness as his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose ever so slightly revealing those deep blues of his "And so what if I'm cocky? You act like I can't back it up." he said, getting in your face, grin continuing to grow.

You shot him a look of disgust, letting out a fake gag. "You're so cringy when you try to act cool to me," you said to him, letting your face continue to distort with pseudo-nausea.

He feels his heart drop to his stomach before he lets out an exasperated cry. "What do you mean cringy??", he says incredulously as his smug demeanor washes away and his ego takes a small blow.

His expression has you laughing, and he watches on as your head swings down and you drift away from his gaze, clearly showing your annoyance has melted.

The same could have been said for his heart.

He then watched as you let out a soft sigh before undoing the bandages you've wrapped around your knuckles slowly. You lift your head once more and turn to face him before gently nudging his side.

"You're insufferable... So what are we doing?" you say, flashing him the smallest of smiles, finally giving in to the request that he gave when he first entered the gym.

He let out a small cheer as you'd relent, momentarily swinging his arm around your shoulders and then grimacing when realizing you were sweaty. He'd make some sort of a remark which in turn earned him a firm punch to his arm.

He laughed watching your cheeks heat with embarrassment before whisking you away to get caught up in whatever nonsense his mind concocted for the day.

Satoru had a soft spot for you. Anyone with a brain could understand that if they had ever seen you two together.

There had always been a loneliness he shouldered in life, one that was a side effect of being the strongest. It was... a weird sort of isolation. Being above everyone else. Watching below as everyone fought to reach the summit. But- not ever stopping to realize the sharpness of the cold air and deafening silence that accompanied it.

It was loneliness that only the strongest could have understood.

A loneliness that you and Suguru understood.

You all shared some level of a similar burden, understanding how many people depended on you each waking day. The roles in which you all played, often being on the frontlines and confronting the possibility of the erasure of mankind every day. It was a pressure no one else could truly and utterly comprehend and face.

However, things were just a little more different with you.

While his friendship with Suguru provided great understanding, respect, admiration, and care-

What the two of you had always felt as if it ran so much deeper than that. There was what he considered to be a frightening amount of vulnerability that came with your connection.

A mix of private conversations. Unspoken words. Gentle touches. Knowing looks... Tears that he would normally never let anyone see.

There was love.

A love that surpassed the means of friendship.

It was unspoken of course. And he constantly used to wonder if it was mutually understood. As if you two knew what you meant to each other without having to say it. That each action, each second spent together, every vulnerable moment served as a confirmation of the ways you two depended on each other.

But after the death of the Star Plasma Vessel and soon the betrayal and departure of Suguru. You began to slowly fade away. It wasn't evident at first. Not at all. His mind was far too deep in sorrow and mourning to the point of being desensitized.

But, gradually, Satoru noticed how your face, your voice, your whispered conversations, gentle touches, knowing looks, all those things that were once a constant... slowly started to disappear from his life.

And then the announcement of your death came.

After being sent out on your own for a mission to defeat a First Grade curse, you never returned.

You were overpowered. Killed and eaten. There were very few remains that were recovered. Only your cursed weapon shattered, and tears of your uniform were found. Not even a trace of a corpse, even when the curse had been exorcised.

That was what he was told.

He didn't believe it at first. How could you have lost? To something he knew you were levels above? He spent days, texting your number only to get no answers, calling to be sent straight to voicemail. Returning to that damn worn down office building where you supposedly died, searching each floor, calling your name.

At least with Suguru, he knew exactly what happened. Even if it was by his hand.

But there was never any ease, never any reassurance when it came to what happened to you. Somehow the factor of that unknown and not bearing witness made it harder for him to comprehend it all.

It was a newfound revelation that shattered something within him that day.

He was alone. Truly and utterly alone once again.

And the summit felt as if it started to freeze over him.

---

A quaint house stood tall and nestled amidst the center of the veil, a single-story abode framed by a winding path that beckoned him forward. As Satoru approached, his gaze wandered over the meticulously tended garden, rows of vibrant vegetables somehow thriving within the sealed-off area. Each step along the gravel path stirred soft crunches of pebbles, a rhythmic accompaniment to his thoughts.

He ascended the weathered steps leading to a porch, their edges softened by what seemed like years of use. The wooden planks creaked subtly under his weight as his eyes traced the length of the porch. Potted plants brimmed with colorful blooms, their fragrance mingling with the earthy scent of the garden.

Reaching the front door, he paused briefly, hand hovering over the worn brass knob before he grasped it firmly and turned. The latch clicked softly as the door swung open and a hint of surprise sparks within him as he registers that the door was not locked.

His eyes peer into the home only for a mere couple of seconds. The interior is dim, but he can make out several pieces of furniture, decor, and appliances.

It was clear that this house was actively lived in.

However, his mind doesn't give him the room or time to even try and analyze or more so criticize the decor anymore as his eyes quickly take note of two things.

A cup of coffee steaming on the countertop near the kitchen.

And the back door is ever so slightly ajar.

Whoever lived here- was here recently.

Satoru's focus is all but shattered when the loud, whiny, sound of creaking wood fills his ears and immediately his head snaps in the direction of where the noise had come from. Now leaning away from the front door and letting the hand that once grasped the doorknob fall to his side, his eyes settle onto the only other structure in the vicinity.

A barn.

He pursed his lips, his brain processing the information and the infinite amount of possibilities at a million miles per second. It humored him that whoever this was had essentially cornered themselves and did nothing but give away their element of surprise by carelessly making such a racket.

His eyes then narrowed, and his feet carried him towards the wooden structure.

But given the conditions of the veil and the possibility that this could be you. Clearly whoever or whatever this was, was skilled and the noise made was nothing but bait. And by entering the barn, he would essentially be walking into the palm of their hand.

A smile stretched across his lips. That didn't matter though. As if anyone could lay a finger on him.

He nudges the barn door open with his foot with little to no care, the door replicating that same creak he had heard earlier. The vacant space was pitch black, only now the faintest bit of light leaking through from the now opened barn door.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he entered.

His eyes scan across the room meticulously, trailing up the wooden pillars that were lined and spaced incrementally inside the vast space. His eyes shift along the high beams and a smirk takes over his lips as he registers the faint feeling of cursed energy.

Bingo.

"I know you're in here." He said in a sugary sweet voice, his movements slow as he picked up a pebble amongst the dirt and debris that was scattered across the wooden flooring He fiddled with it between his long digits, the pads of his fingers smoothing along the rugged edges.

"If you show yourself now, I promise to play nic-"

Squeeeee

Another creak breaks the silence and not missing a single beat his eyes snap in its direction, charging the stone with cursed energy before throttling it at the source of the sound. The stone zips through the air, cutting through the air at such an intense velocity that upon making an impact with the roof of the barn- the wood relents, breaking under the sheer force, causing a gentle stream of light to now beam through the hole he created.

The barn falls into silence once more.

He sighs, raising an eyebrow. "Dead already?" he wondered out loud, a cocky laugh escaping his throat as he intently eyes the area surrounding the "mark" he's left on the infrastructure, admiring his handy work.

He is completely prepared for what happens next.

A shadowy figure zips through the air, and his eyes catch the glint of metal that reflects in the light as the attacker dives straight toward him holding some form of cursed weapon.

Satoru raises a brow expectantly, his grin remaining on his lips as he merely steps out of the way as the figure collides with the ground below, the sound of wood breaking filling the air for a second time as the blade embeds itself through the floorboards.

His eyes observed the figure cautiously, watching as it slowly rose to its feet, not bothering to fetch the weapon that was now a good foot into the ground. He smiles smugly as the figure slowly steps into the light.

"That would've worked- if it wasn't me" he quipped with a carefree laugh.

"You're just as pompous as I remembered"

It was one of those rare occasions where Satoru finds himself at a loss for words. His features are completely wiped of any smirk or cockiness and his brain all but freezes, cutting off any further taunting remarks that otherwise would have slipped off his tongue effortlessly.

It was you.

He'd be stupid to not recognize that voice from miles and miles away. It was you. Standing right before him, dawning nothing more than a pair of sweats and a tee. You had grown. You had changed. No longer sporting the same hairstyle you did back in your Second year or standing with that little bit of awkwardness that you seemed to carry with you naturally at the time. There was a new sense of confidence that you now carried with you, self-assured.

He found his footing, forcing a smile onto his lips.

"Had to keep things familiar for you, otherwise how would you recognize me?"

You let out a scoff and a wave of nostalgia washed over his senses as he watched your face- which was now fully in view- soften as you gave him a gentle smile.

But as he stared at your face he realized something was bubbling beneath his demeanor.

Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Confusion.

No longer were there rumors, theories, or flimsy, stupid red strings.

You were alive. You were here.

And you had lied to him.

Insults started to bubble in his throat as his collected demeanor began to wash away.

The things he wanted to spit in your direction. How cowardly you were to run away in the manner that you did. Scream at you for abandoning him. Ask you, demand you, for an explanation for how you could have left him with such ease. How could you do that to him? He was counting on you. He thought you understood each other, ready to shoulder the burden of loneliness and strength together.

How could you let him brace the cold and deafening silence on his own?

"Satoru... it's nice to see you again"

And just like that it all melted away. As if the sound of your voice saying his name had been some Pavlovian experiment, he finds himself wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards his chest.

Those emotions could be put on hold for now he thought to himself as pure relief washed over his being. He held you with such an intensity that a part of him now wondered if this was a dream that he soon would wake from. And he waited for the moment you would slip away from his arms once more and for him to find himself stirring from the depths of slumber, alone in his bed.

It was then he felt your arms wrap around his torso and his bottom lip began to quiver before he clenched his jaw, biting down on his lip, grinding his teeth into the flesh ever so slightly just to still himself. He battled with himself internally, trying to find his composure, hoping that he would come up with something, anything to say. Just one more cocky remark to allow the mask to slip back on. Anything to just prevent all these suppressed emotions from spilling out messily.

But old habits die hard. And the simple comfort that came from being at your side once more was just far too overwhelming. A tear slips from his eye, as he buries his face into the soft strands of your hair.

Just for a moment... the summit began to feel warmer and the sound of gentle conversation began to float through the air.

---

"Well, I'm assuming you're not here for a quick check-in..."

The soft whistle of a kettle fills the air as you speak, the clattering of ceramics soon follows as you reach for two mugs that had been stored in your cupboard.

Satoru is watching you intently, taking in your every move, holding onto every word you speak.

He can tell you're purposefully avoiding his gaze.

The two of you had stayed in the barn for several minutes, holding onto each other in silence. You had wanted to say something but when the faintest sob left Satoru's lips, you knew better than to say anything more.

As you felt him begin to still and his breathing becoming slightly less ragged, you invited him back into your home, a place that would be more suited for the two of you to chat.

Upon entering, you let out a soft whine, complaining for a moment that your coffee had now gone cold and you would have to make a new one. You sent him a soft smile before offering him a drink as you headed into your kitchen space.

The air was uncomfortably stiff from that point on, several beats of silence filling the air as he felt his discomfort grow. This was incredibly awkward. Of course, it was... as if the circumstances surrounding the two of you were normal in the slightest.

He let your words hang in the air for a moment as he sat silently in thought, his eyes wandering around this place that you called home. He took note of the several knick-knacks that decorated the place, his eyes landed on a guitar that hung on the wall and then a wooden trinket that sat on top of the fireplace that appeared to be home-made and he mused at the thought of you taking up carpentry and music in your free time.

He's broken from his thoughts as he sees you lean down in front of him, gently placing a mug for him on the coffee table, raising your brow expectantly, waiting for some sort of acknowledgment to your words from earlier.

He curtly sent you a nod of gratitude, leaning up from the plush couch he had situated himself on, fingers wrapping around the handle of the mug, bringing it to his lips. He took a sip of the coffee, and the taste of cream and sugar immediately coated his tongue. He felt his heartstrings tug as he realized you still remembered how he liked his coffee.

He fought off a smile, knowing that now wasn't the time for fondness.

He watches as you take a seat on a chair that sits on the opposing side of the coffee table and he sighs before speaking,

"To put it simply, you are needed back at Jujutsu Tech."

"...Why?"

Your response is immediate, without any trace of hesitation. He looks at your expression, your eyebrows slightly furrowed and a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. And for the first time in a long while, a hint of nervousness sparks within his gut.

Convincing you was not going to be as easy as he thought it would have been.

"War is on the horizon... A group of cursed spirits are planning some sort of attack in Shibuya... and I am the main target. Yaga was the one who suggested that we find you. He had a team searching for you over the past decade... since you..." His voice trailed off, and you shifted your gaze away from his. A thick blanket of silence filled the room once again. He takes another sip of coffee, and he notices how his foot begins to tap restlessly.

"...They believe that if you are present, our chances of securing a causality-free victory is more likely" he continues, regaining his composure and dancing around the elephant in the room with such carelessness. "There will be several special-grade curses present, so we are preparing for the absolute worst..." Satoru says as he continues to watch you closely, trying to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were now screwed shut, your free hand, rubbing circles into the temple of your head as if you had a migraine. Your silence was more than unnerving.

"I can't, Satoru."

Your words are curt, you provide no further explanation, no reasoning. He frowns deeply, 'You can't?' What was that supposed to mean? Were you unable to use your cursed technique anymore? That couldn't be true- he could still see and sense the intense amount of cursed energy that radiated from your being. You were more than capable. So what the hell did you mean?

"...I left that lifestyle behind me years ago... you know this"

In his mind, he had pictured you running back into his arms as soon as he saw you. He pictured tears and an apology- A promise that you would never leave again as you held onto him tightly. Promises that you would return to his side without a second thought.

But this hesitation. This unwillingness. He felt so stupid upon being faced with it, his ego took a blow, his heart tearing a little bit as he began to question the foundation of the dynamic he had with you. Wondering if he truly wasn't enough of a reason for you to return to the way things were. But at the same token, he knew you and your stubbornness, the ways you stood your ground when making a decision, and your dedication to commit to them without faltering.

And there it was, in your words, the acknowledgment of your decisions. Confirmation of your actions being given as guilt rooted deeply into each word you spoke and swirling around in your eyes as you still refused to meet his gaze.

"Why did you do it?" he then dares to ask, the tone in Satoru's voice was unreadable, it almost didn't sound like him, the words coming out as a whisper yet carrying such a heavy weight with every syllable that rolled off his tongue.

This conversation was inevitable, you knew this. Even if you were trying to steer away from this topic, you knew that from the moment you saw him enter the veil, it would wound up here in one way or another.

But you didn't want to face this reality, "I don't understand what you're saying" you then say, stupidly letting out such a poorly constructed lie. Your eyes flickered to his face for a mere second and the furrow of his eyebrows told you just how much he didn't like that answer.

"Fuck don't make me say it," he muttered between gritted teeth, "Why did you fake your death? Why did you disappear without a trace?" his voice was slightly raised but still firm and contained. He could feel his grasp on his emotions slipping quickly as his grip on the mug tightened, his foot tapping much faster than it had been originally.

A subtle tinge of pain ached within his being as he finally directly acknowledged your deceit. As if beforehand your actions had been nothing more than meaningless flimsy words, his words spoke the truth into existence, forcing him to face it directly and fully. This was no longer a weight on his mind but a hard-hitting reality that he now had to navigate.

You give him a humorless laugh, a small smile that doesn't even begin to meet your eyes, "Do you really think the higher-ups would allow something like that? For a Special Grade Sorcerer that was tied so closely to you, the beholder of the Six Eyes and Limitless Technique to just step down and walk away?"

"That's not what I mean- " Satoru interjects, his eyes narrowing beneath his blindfold, "How could you? How could you just walk away from it all like everything that happened was nothing to you?". There was a bitterness in his voice that he did not attempt to conceal, his words cutting deep, outright challenging every aspect of your motives.

And you knew right then and there that there was no more running away from this. He deserved an explanation, you knew that. If there was anything you could do right now, it was to give him the truth. You let out a soft sigh, your eyes still refusing to meet his as you set your mug down on the coffee table that separated the two of you. He watches as you lean back into the chair, a distant look in your eyes as you begin to fidget with your fingers.

"It started after I heard about what happened to Amanai from you..." your voice came out as a murmur as you began to speak. A hint of surprise washed over his face before his lips thinned tightly as you brought up the name of the departed girl.

"I remember watching the ways it changed you and Suguru... You began to work tirelessly to surpass everyone around you while Suguru began to look worse for wear." he could see a sadness swirling in your eyes as you recalled those distant memories.

"It pained me to know how much that event shook you both to the core... and I wasn't there for any of it, so how could I comfort you both? Then... Haibara died..." Your voice begins to shake, your eyes seemingly fixed on the wall to your left, your fingers picking at the skin around your nails.

"Then Suguru defected... and that was when you broke."

Those last words hung in the air heavily and he watched as you took a deep breath, through your nose and past your trembling lips. You attempted to gather yourself, doing everything you could to prevent yourself from breaking, wondering how these memories still brought upon so much anguish after a decade.

"So much happened so quickly... and I remember that night... you cried in a way I had never seen you cry before... Another one of our friends gone..." Your voice had lost all its strength by this point, dropping to nothing more than a sorrowful whisper.

"I wondered how many more people would I lose? How many more days until one of us becomes a casualty once more? Would it have been Nanami next? Shoko?... You?" He felt a twinge of hurt as you spoke. A part of him almost felt insulted that you thought he would die, but the better part of him knew you meant no ill will. He wanted to stop you there and reassure you there was no way in hell he would have let anything happen to him, but before he could begin to interject, you continued to speak.

"I started to wonder if it ever came to a point where I would have to choose between the success of some mission or your well-being, could I ever rationalize it in my head? Would I be able to make that choice? ...Would you be able to make that choice?" Your fidgeting grew more restless as the skin around your nail broke, drawing a slight amount of blood.

"...and I hate how this sounds, but we made each other weak, Satoru. The target that was placed on my back for being so close to you was evident, and I thought I could shoulder that. But... seeing you after Suguru left, I realized I would become a weight that would hold you back—an additional variable to worry about. I couldn't stomach the thought of it all."

You sighed for the nth time.

"I knew I was uncertain about my capabilities when it came to making decisions involving you... and I knew I couldn't stay and watch as the people I loved turned into statistics. So I made my bed and laid in it."

A bitter chuckle then leaves your lips, "But I'm not so stupid to think that I have free will in this world. A special-grade sorcerer just out there in the world, their powers not being monitored? As if I would have been allowed that freedom. And I knew if you somehow caught word of my plans... you would try to convince me otherwise. I knew you would find a way to pull me back, and I couldn't let you do that."

"So I left on my own terms... removing myself from the picture in the cleanest way I could..."

The two of you fell into another silence as he took in the last of your words. After all these years, he finally received an explanation for your sudden departure. The picture was now complete, and he knew every detail of what happened. And frankly, he wasn't sure how to take any of it. A part of him felt stumped, wondering how much of the blame he should shoulder despite you not placing any on him. You laid it out pretty clearly that this was a conclusion you reached on your own. But the fact that you felt you couldn't confide in him, hurt deeply.

Then there was the way you spoke about yourself, acting as if you were nothing more than a mere inconvenience in his life - oh, did that spark a rage in him... As if he hadn't thought about you in the highest regard.

His next words seemed to slip past his lips without much thought and were solely fueled by emotion. "So you left me... You made everyone—made me believe that you were gone? You forced me to cope with the hole you left... Taking away the last thing I cared about?" He gritted through his teeth, as hurt and anger coursed through his veins, any sense of composure now far gone.

"A setback? Another variable to worry about? Do you hear the shit you're saying?" Your eyes snapped to his face, finally looking at him, surprise written across your face at the aggression that laced his words as he crassly set his mug down with a hefty thump.

"If there was anyone—anyone I could have depended on, it was you," he spat, hastily tugging his blindfold down his face, letting it hang around his neck.

And for the first time in a decade, you're staring him eye to eye.

Brilliant blues swirled around in angry, hurtful waves as they stared straight through you, analyzing every part of your being to a tee.

"Fucking hell- Of course, I worried about you. Anyone with a working pair of eyes and a brain could see what you meant to me. But I knew you - I knew your strength, I knew the risks that came with being so close to you, I knew they were something that just needed to be taken in stride. Every day, there was a risk. Of course, I knew that."

You watched as he took his bottom lip between his teeth, he was growing restless. You knew there was never going to be a positive reaction to what you had done. He would have to have been insane to see anything good about you pretending to have gotten killed.

But you didn't expect him to break like this.

"But- I had enough faith in you to believe you knew what decisions to make. I had faith that you would trust me just as much as I trusted you; depend on me as I depended on you." His words lose their anger, as sadness now coats them. His voice is fragile, filled with hurt.

"We propelled each other forward. Is that not how it was?"

You didn't know when it started, but tears were now falling from both of you as you fell into silence, staring at each other wordlessly.

Almost 12 years of bottled-up emotions caused him to fall apart before your very eyes. You had felt confident with the decision you made back then, certain that it was the right thing you needed to do for yourself and him. But maybe living with the decision had only been so easy because not once did you have to face the consequences and the effects they left behind.

But there it was, the consequences of your actions, manifested in the form of Satoru Gojo, the face of strength and confidence in the Jujutsu world, shattered. Crumbling to pieces right before your eyes.

And god, it was always so hard to see him hurting so intensely.

Your legs seemed to move on their own as they carried you without a thought, and you found yourself leaving the chair you had been sitting in and taking a seat on the couch next to him.

You leaned your head against his shoulder quietly.

And not missing a beat, he pulls you into him without a second thought, and the two of you are holding each other again, tears slipping from your eyes. Your resolve is crumbling; you can feel it. Knowing that the part of you that rejected Jutujsu sorcery and the life that came with it was beckoning you once again.

It always did. You knew it always did.

As empty as the thought left you, this was something your body was made for. This was your unfair calling and a role that you had no choice but to play along with. You may not have been asked to be given such a powerful technique, but you were. And even though you held the power to save so many, you selfishly decided to turn away so you didn't have to witness the loss of the ones you loved.

"Please" you hear Satoru whisper to you, breaking you out of your thoughts as he holds you firmly against him.

"You can come back. Higher-ups be damned- I won't let them lay a finger on you. I don't care about how long it's been... just come back." he was begging you. A desperation in his broken voice that told you that there was no more pride in him left to spare. This was the bottom of the barrel and what remained of him, was raw, emotional, and shattered.

He didn't know if he had it in himself to leave this place without you at his side. Let you slip between his fingers once more and let you vanish into the background again. Knowing damn well you're smart enough to move your location since you've been found. He finally had you once more, and he wasn't going to take this opportunity for granted.

Your resolve is fading away and you can't help but feel a hint of nostalgia. This is why all these years ago you knew you couldn't face him. Just as you admitted, you were weak to him, uncertain of your abilities to make decisions whenever it came to Satoru.

And right now, you couldn't help but take him in. The tenderness in which he held you, the scent that lingered around him, his heart beating so heavily you could feel it against your chest. There was only one word that floated around your head,

Home.

How long had it been since you felt like this? How long had it been since you felt the touch of anyone? You silently begged yourself to not let the fact you were undeniably touch-starved be any part of the reason why you would relent.

But this wasn't just anyone you were speaking about here. You knew this.

You'd be lying to say that your world didn't become duller after you departed from Satoru's side. The first few months of being away from him were excruciating and you lived in hefty guilt. The routine you once built together was no more. There was no one to push you out of bed in the morning, no one to drag you away from your responsibilities to goof off, no conversations until 4 a.m. in the morning, talking until your brain couldn't form coherent thoughts. No one to hold you through the nights that were just a little too hard to deal with. No one to understand your entire being in the way he did.

You truly and utterly missed him, even after all these years.

You breathe out a deep sigh the last bit of restraint evaporating,

"Okay. Fuck... okay, Satoru. I'll go with you".

You refused to be alone anymore.

Satoru felt his world come to a stop as the words slipped from your lips. His heart came to a halt in his chest as he soon took your face in his hands wordlessly, staring into your eyes.

And the summit grew warm as a fire was lit, and there he saw your smiling face illuminated by the flames.

He was unsure of what fueled his next action- perhaps it was the intensity of all the emotions both you and him had released, maybe it was the high he was riding from the sheer fact that you were officially back in his life once more... or the unspoken love he kept within for the past few years.

It could have been for a million reasons, but none of that mattered as his lips met yours in a gentle, loving, kiss, and his thumbs ran over the expanse of your cheeks.

Your heart flipped within the confines of your ribcage as he kissed you with such attentiveness, all of your sanity far out the window as your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed him back with an equal amount of tenderness.

He parted his lips from yours for a brief moment, "Twelve years I've waited just to do this..." He murmurs before pulling you into another searing kiss, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck before combing his fingers through your hair.

Your mind felt cloudy as he all but confessed the undying love he'd had for you for over a decade. You wanted to tease him, you truly did, but as you felt his fingers playing with your hair, you found yourself melting into his touch, any snarky remarks threatening to spill out, dying in your throat.

He suddenly flips you over, letting you fall onto your back as he hovers above you. A soft squeak squeezes its way past your lips and he lets out a breathy laugh, unable to stop himself from gushing over every little thing you did.

"God you're so ridiculously perfect..." Satoru whispers to you affectionately, his head dipping down to press a kiss to your cheek, loving the way the skin tinted with a rosy red.

"...You always have been," he continues, leaving several kisses pressed against your jaw.

"...My perfect girl" his lips trail along your neck where he gently nips and sucks and you feel lightheaded at his words. Never mind the red and purple marks he was leaving along your flushed skin, the way he praised your entire being, kissing you, touching you with such softness rendered you entirely speechless and helpless in his hands.

Satoru felt himself become overwhelmed with desperation. He just needed to be as close to you as possible, he needed to make up for all the time the two of you spent apart. He needed to remind you of just how deep his love and care ran for you. And he knew no amount of words would express that, so he needed to at least try and show you.

"Bed.. 'Toru, my bed" you breathlessly murmured to him, sensing his neediness as he began to press his body into yours and his lips searched for every bit of exposed skin you had to offer.

He lets out a low hum and pulls away from your neck, pressing one last kiss to a fresh hickey, "Where?" he says, lips continuing to graze your skin as he speaks.

"Down the hall on the right," you replied, your voice nothing more than a whisper and ears burning. In a flash, he's scooping you up in his arms and making hasty steps toward your bedroom as you let out a soft laugh, amused with how easily he picks you up. He nudges the partially opened door with his hip and gently tosses you onto the bed, watching as you bounce in place before he joins you, crawling onto the bed and hovering over you once more and kissing you once again.

It's messy and wet, his tongue darting out to coat your bottom lip before nibbling on the plump flesh and tugging. One of his large hands trails down to the hem of your shirt, and he gently pulls on the material, silently asking you for permission. With no hesitation, you raise your hands above your head giving him the green light he needed as he parts his lips from yours and makes quick work of removing the article, tossing it somewhere in your room.

His eyes trail over your exposed torso, tracing over every single curve, and Christ, you weren't even wearing a bra.

"Fuck you've grown up nicely, hm?" His voice says lowly as his hands run along the curve of your waist before gently cupping your breast, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your face turns a deep red as you bite back a moan from his touches, "Don't say that Satoru! You sound like such a creep-" You hiss through gritted teeth as he continues his onslaught, massaging the flesh in his palm before giving your perked nipple a small pinch.

"Sorry princess..." He says with a snicker, "...It's true though..." he grins at you pressing his lips to yours once more in a quick peck before sitting up to slip off his own shirt and discarding the blindfold that still hung around his neck.

His sculpted body was a sight to behold. It's not like you haven't seen Satoru shirtless before, there have been many incidents during your days at Jujutsu Tech, going to the beach, catching him right after he stepped out of the shower, or waking up next to him in your dorm and receiving a poor excuse from him that it was simply too hot while he was trying to sleep.

But after several years, you can see the effects of what you assumed was nothing less than endless hours of intense training written all across his body with every swell of muscle your eyes traced along, broad shoulders chiseled abs, and a waist so sinfully cinched, anyone would be envious.

When the hell did he become so hot?

Satoru genuinely felt himself grow warm under your gaze, the way you stared at his body so shamelessly made the tips of his ears turn pink. A smirk tugged at his lips as he debated calling you out for practically drooling at the sight of him. But as your small hand reached out and ran your fingers along the expanse of his abdomen, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

He couldn't tease you now, he didn't have it in him. Not when you were laying there looking so damn pretty, clearly needing him just as much as he needed you. As he began to make quick work of removing your sweatpants, he made a silent vow to himself that next time it wouldn't be so rushed like this, next time he would take his damn sweet time, drawing every second out and showing you everything he could do to you.

Discarding your sweat pants, his eyes practically honed in on the blatant wet patch soaking your cotton panties. "Fucking hell, you're driving me crazy sweetheart..." He growled, removing his pants, and flinging it to who knows where. He positioned himself between your legs, hooking his thumbs underneath the waistband of your underwear pulling it down your legs at an agonizingly slow pace, and marveling at the strings of arousal that hung between your wet cunt and panties.

It was embarrassing how soaked you were, he barely had done anything to you and you were already a mess. Being touch-starved was becoming a prevalent fact and you just silently hoped he wouldn't put 2 and 2 together. Not that any of what you thought mattered because as soon as your panties were completely off, Satoru was diving into your cunt and eating you out with such eagerness you thought you were about to die and go to heaven.

His tongue worked skillfully along your slit, occasionally bringing your clit between his lips and sucking and lapping at the sensitive nub. "Satoru- oh my god-" you stuttered out, your thighs threatening to clamp around his head if not for his large warm palms keeping them spread. He let out a slight hum as you said his name and the vibrations have you seeing stars.  

Were you really about to finish after two minutes of foreplay?

You got your answer fairly quickly as Satoru suddenly removed his mouth from you, denying you any further pleasure. You begin to protest but as he leaves a soft kiss on your inner thigh, your voice dies in your throat. "I'm sorry my pretty girl... Can't wait much longer" he says, his voice low and gravelly as he sits up, tugging down his boxers and positioning himself once more between your legs and caging you between his muscular arms.

"Need you finish while I'm inside that pretty cunt, okay?" he murmurs, licking off the last bit of your slick that lingered on his lips. Your eyes trailed down his torso, admiring the feint white happy trail before fixating right on his dick. He was so big, so lengthy and thick, with an angry red tip that leaked with pre-cum. Your mouth watered slightly-

Of course, he had a huge dick... cause why wouldn't he?

"You ready, sweetheart?" Satoru whispered to you, pulling you from your thoughts as the head of his cock nudged at your entrance which has you gasping. You meet his eyes, seeing the tenderness those deep blues held and you smile, nodding your head softly.

Slowly, he pushes himself into you, watching your face contort as you adjust to his size. "Doing so well, pretty girl... you're taking me so well..." he cooed, leaning down to press soft kisses to your face as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. The stretch was ridiculous, and your hands found purchase on his shoulders, holding on to him tightly as your nails dug into his perfect milky skin.

"Almost there, my perfect girl..." he whispered just before bottoming out. He cursed at how tightly you were gripping him, plush walls sucking him in so intensely he had no idea if he'd ever be able to leave - not that he wanted to, of course.

A breathy sigh of your name left his lips as he gave a testing roll of his hips, gauging your reaction.

And when the prettiest moan leaves your lips, he can't help but gush, his hips beginning to move in slow, measured thrusts and he buries his face in your neck, firmly pressing his body against yours.

He could feel your heart pounding against his chest, every sinful and beautiful noise you made flooded his ears and he groaned softly. Breathless sighs of his name left your lips as the sound of skin smacking against skin filled the air with every thrust he made, fucking himself deeper into your sopping cunt.

He knew he was done for.

You were so perfect. You always were so damn perfect. Everything that he could have ever wanted. He always felt that you were his other half. From the moment you entered his life, he swore you were a splash of color in what he felt was a previously black-and-white world. The way you understood him in ways that he thought no one ever would. The way you always matched him on his childish, snarky remarks and teasing. The way you would put up with him, even on the days he knew he was being difficult.

Life with you meant reassurance and laughter, it meant being seen for something more than this power of his. Life with you meant never having to feel alone, it meant having a constant to push him through the toughest of times. It meant having a space where he could let the mask slip off, a place where he didn't have to be 'The Strongest', but simply Satoru,

Your Satoru.

And fuck, the pain he felt the day you left. The pain he felt for weeks... for months. Having to adjust to a world with you was agony.

But now that you were here, spread before him, your pretty eyes shut and those delicate lashes brushing on your cheeks, lips parted and moaning his name like a mantra- and he knew he could never get enough of you. He would never be able to get enough of you.

Never again was he going to let you get away. You were officially stuck with him until the end of time.

"Ah- 'Toru, m'getting close-!" you cried out, your hands running all along the expanse of his back, nails now breaking the skin and leaving red angry marks in their wake as his thrusts began to increase in pace and becoming sloppy.

"Me too princess, don't hold back, want you to cum for me, make a mess for me like the perfect girl I know you are" he groaned out, words spilling endlessly from his lips as began to nip at your neck once more, leaving far too many marks that made you question if your neck would be entirely purple by the end of this.

But as he hits a spot so deep inside you, your back arcs and your vision fades to white and you come undone. Legs trembling around him and hands scrambling to find something anything to hold onto as your orgasm ripples through you with such an intensity you thought you were going to blackout.

Satoru isn't too far behind as his pace quickens even more, heavy and hard thrusts pounding against your worn-out pussy and overstimulating you right before he pulls out releasing thick and long ropes of cum between your squished torsos.

He lets out a hefty sigh before his body goes limp, and he lets his full weight press into you. You let out a soft laugh, also out of breath as your hands make their way into his hair, toying with his snowy locks.

"…I missed you so damn much" his voice is delicate as he speaks shifting himself so that he can look at your face. You can't stop the smile that stretches across your face as you cup his cheek and press a kiss to his forehead.

"I missed you too… But I'm here now, and I promise you I'm not going anywhere," you whispered back to him. Letting the world slow down for just a moment more as you laid with him, enjoying that this was all life had to be right now.

You were launched right back into the world of jujutsu sorcery. You knew once you left your home and stepped out of that veil with Satoru, a whole load of ugliness was to come your way.

But at least, for right now... just in this moment. You can bask in the fact that you were reunited with the man who had always owned your heart.

☆~~~☆~~~☆

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED IT YIPPIE I wanted to get this done a while ago but my friends surprised me with a vacation and I haven't been able to write anything until recently haha

I actually do have plans to write 2 blurbs about this fic in order to give more insight to Satoru's and the reader's relationship that I wasn't able to fit into this one less I wanted to overflood this piece with several flashbacks >_>

So expect some little pieces soonnn one will be very fluffy and just a little moment between Satoru and the Reader during their days at Jujutsu Tech after they finished a mission and the other will take place after Suguru defected (SO ANGST AHAHHAH)

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed reading, it's been years since I've written any fanfiction so bare with me if there were any mistakes LOL

Tags: @hyori2 @kalulakunundrum

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

This is inspired by this ask! Thank you for letting me use this idea @ceilidho. Also not proofread because it's late and I should really be sleeping

COD Masterlist | Next Part >

Butcher!Simon who can't help but get excited, as excited as he can get, when he sees you walking down the sidewalk towards the shop.

You're such an adorable thing, really. Always nervously wringing your fingers when you leave your dog outside. Always polite and soft spoken. He's never seen anyone as pure as you before (even tho he can't know how pure you are but compared to him you are basically a saint).

Your dog is the opposite of you, big and scary with a mean face but utterly whipped for you. It's obvious that you got it for protection and it's intimidatingly well trained. Simon admires the way you handle the animal. He wouldn't mind letting you handle him the same way.

Him and the dog might not be so different, he thinks. Both hardened old men, used to a harsher lifes, that soften for you and would follow your lead every day. Hell, he'd be as well behaved as your dog too if you put a collar and a leash on him and kissed his head the way you kiss your dogs when you leave him outside.

It's a familiar dance at this point, you tie your dog to the pole outside, look into the shop, notice Simon already looking at you and promtly look away at your dog once more.

You draw a few deep breaths, kiss your dogs head (damnit he never thought he'd be jealous of a dog) and Simon can't help but smile behind his mask, utterly enamored.

If only you weren't so intimidated by him. He really wishes he could have a conversation with you but he never gets more out of you than one word answers and a finger pointing at the meat you want.

And fuck, Simon is no conversationalist but he's really trying for you, but you're so damn timid around him. If he doesn't get to hear your pretty voice more he might just lose his damn mind.

So when you open the door, the chime a soft sound in the backround, entirely unfitting for this type of shop, his gruff voice stops you.

"You can bring him in with ya."

"I'm sorry, what?", you ask, confused.

"The dog.", Simon clarifies and you stand there in the open door looking at him like he just told you that he'll be butchering and selling your dog next.

Did he already fuck this up? You seem even more intimidated than usual. The diversion from your routine making your interaction even more tense. He tries to soften his voice when he goes again.

"You can bring your dog inside with ya, if it makes you more comfortable, sweetheart."

Your eyes are big when you meet his. Whether it's because of what he offered or the petname that slipped out, he isn't sure.

"But the sign says only service dogs?", you question genuinely confused.

Simon nearly snorts at your expression, like a deer caught in the headlights and damn him, if he doesn't wanna catch you.

"It's fine, just don't tell the boss. He won't know that it's no service dog as long as you don't rat me out. The boss can't tell a dog from a cat if I'm bein' honest.", he whispers conspiracionally. And then he swears he nearly has a heart attack.

You giggle. You giggle and blush brightly red at the same time, hiding your mouth with your hand and it takes everything in Simon to stop himself from jumping over the counter and pulling that hand away because the glimpse of your smile?! Yeah, he's fucked.

"Maybe next time I'll bring him in with me.", you finally answer. And Simon could die a happy man, finally having had a conversation with you (maybe just a short one but a conversation nontheless) that involves something other than the meat.

He's utterly fucked when you walk up to the counter, still blushing prettily (he didn't know he could make you do that so easily) and softly say your order.

He's utterly fucked when you pay, look at his name tag and say: "Thank you, Simon."

His name in your voice is a sound he will never forget again. He's sure he sounds like a fool when he says: "Have a nice day."

He's even more fucked when you turn around and he watches your cute ass walk out of the shop, giving your dog a treat for being so well behaved.

He nearly faints when you turn around, before walking away, gift him with a smile and wave goodbye. He returns the gesture mindlessly, glad that his mask is hiding the stupid expression he surely is wearing at that moment.

Oh yeah, he needs to catch you. And for that he'll have to prepare dog treats for next time.

[r1elle]

for my peace of mind i want to live in the belief that miya atsumu has AT LEASTTTT got to be a candidate in the “pretending to be nonchalant but horrendously failing at it” trope.

like can you just imagine ..

a just freshly out of the change room miya atsumu, —who, by the way, has his brothers clothes on. (he wants to make a cool impression, and unfortunately, it’s his brother who always has the better outfit choices between the both of them. though he’d rather die than admit it.) anywho, he’s outside of the gym on standby to see if you had already walked past the building at your usual time. (he knows because he’s timed it.)

and when he realizes you already did, and that he had missed to take advantage of that one time slot in your routine, he’s BUMMED. he’s bummed out like a bum in bum central. but it happens as much as it doesn’t, so he still can’t figure out why he’s so dejected whenever the outcome turns out to be the former. (maybe cause he’s just so in love with you like that ?? duh)

but anyway, cmon now. you really didn’t even stop by to see if you could catch a glimpse of him setting ?? serving ?? heck, even spiking ?!?! because he couldn’t care less whether or not you knew which position he played, or what move he often did on court—…okay, well, maybe he cared just a bit. but screw all that. he can just tell you all about it when he’s finally able to call you his ! because what’s most important right now, is you seeing him during the times when he looks his “absolute coolest”.

but goodness gracious you should see the complete 360 his expression does when he sees you laughing along with your friends near the vending machine, indicating you hadn’t fully left just yet. he’s basically grown dog ears, and they’re raised HIGHH. osamu just wants to throw up, especially even more so as he sees heart eyes practically being etched onto his twin brothers dna, and he could only hope it wouldn’t apply to him as well.

with this profound opportunity, atsumu suggests that maybe they should buy something from the vending machine using their remaining coins. (“their” as in osamu’s. atsumu has .99 to spare, but he thinks he’ll save it for another day. perhaps to buy you those 50 cent candies at the nearby 7/11?).

“i’m thirsty. are ya not? c’mon. let’s use ‘em remainin’ cents.” though, anyone can see that it wasn’t a suggestion. it was a demand. (atsumu has never loved the “i was born 5 minutes before you.” card so hard in his entire life.)

osamu can’t help but feel the obvious desperation radiating off of his brothers anticipating expression, so he feels bad and says yes. atsumu internally thanks his brother, thinking that maybe telling him that ‘he should’ve ate him in the womb’ a couple of days ago was a bit mean.

but now that he’s infront of you, what should he do? the boy can physically feel his critical thinking skills melting away.

and so, with little time to actually prepare, he settles on nodding his head towards yours as a greeting (? if it can even be called a greeting), avoiding eye contact as he poorly executes his cowardly advances. he internally wallows in doing so, because that was NOT what he wanted to do. gosh….why couldn’t he be as smooth as he was on court ?!?! what he wanted to do was,—

“hey,” [add in a lazy but still oozing with confidence expression. whatever looks nonchalant and cool!] “want this? i was gonna buy one for myself,” [handing off his coins with one hand while his other one goes off to casually brush his blond hair to the side,] “but eh. dun’ really want it. take it, if ya’ want.” [finishing off with a low-key but proud sniff as he shoves his hands onto his pockets.]

but no. that was not what had happened. at all.

instead, he’s now completely focused over to the vending machine, his eyes directly staring onto the drink he had caught glimpse of you already drinking. (how could he not? it was the whole reason his plan backfired.)

well. at least he was able to give out a (puny) nod at you.

before he could even do anything else to salvage this already weak pursuit of his, atsumu hears you and your friends’ conversation exit out of his earshot. assuming that you were now further away from him, his knees seem to find themselves giving in.

one may think it was due to the exercises coach had given for todays practice.

but miya atsumu is a star volleyball player who yields the magic of ‘athleticism’. so surely, the runs up the mountain during todays agenda should hardly be the reason of any damage caused on the blonds already well maintained physique.

and surely,

heated cheeks, rapid beating of the heart, growing sense of frustration, and a yearning for some sort of impactful interaction with you..

wouldn’t qualify as side effects of hard practice, right?

“stop leanin’ on the vending machine like that, ya’ idiot.” osamu snidely comments, and his ‘face-mushed-to-the-vending-machine’ twin brother can only groan in response.

——

the walk back home is surprisingly quiet, until a low grumble decides to finally greet the silence.

“i was supposed to talk to her.”

“maybe that lame nod told her all that ya’ needed to say.”

“it ain’t my fault she already had a drink in her hand!”

“yeah, yeah. sure. ya’ still looked lame, though. i almost felt bad.”

“shut up! ya’ don’t know what it’s like to be a man in love!”

“…..….”

a silence.

a silence from atsumu who’s now just truly realized how doomed he was.

a silence from osamu who wonders if the person behind them had heard atsumu’s rather flamboyant confession.

“love, huh? didn’t know you were that deep into her.”

“ARRRRRRVHHHHGGGGGGGGGH! SHUT YER’ TRAP, SAMU’!! I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHIN’ !!!”

and of course,

a silence from you, who couldn’t help but just take the longer way back home, all because it meant getting to walk a few steps behind him. (even if he had always failed to notice you doing so, every. single. time.)

i was thinking of ryu sunjae from lovely runner while making this … i hope most ppl will see the vision 💔💔 I JUST LOVE LOSER MEN WHO JUST LOVE THEIR PARTNERS SO VERY MUCH !!!!

[sanjisboyfie]

suguru's needless jealousy

geto suguru x male reader

being suguru's boyfriend and all of his friends (shoko and satoru, basically - man's does not really have friends like that) not believing how he could find such a wonderful, caring boyfriend like you.

it kind of pisses him off, actually. because he knows how lucky he is to have you, obviously he knows, he's the one dating you. he's the only one who knows just how fast his heart races whenever he sees you. he's the only one who gets that really warm feeling in his chest when you so much as look in his direction. he's the only one who gets to hear you whisper, "i love you," to him and practically send him spiralling with just those three words alone.

but whenever you walk into the classroom, shoko and satoru both think he's gotten memory loss in his sleep because they're both gushing about, "waahhh, suguru, your boyfriend's a total babe, why'd he settle with you? he could have anyone he wanted!" or, "suguru, you better be treating [name] with the utmost respect, he deserves the best for being such a sweetheart!"

you are the one that always kindly brushes their compliments off, taking a comfortable seat next to suguru, who pulls you closer to him by tugging on the leg of your chair towards his. there's a small frown on his face, but it washes away the moment you rest your hand on top of his.

with that simple touch, he'll tiredly tell the two of them to just shut up before focusing all of his attention on you. and that frowns melts into a lovesick smile as he hangs off of every word that leaves your lips.

-

however, satoru one day takes the teasing too far. for suguru's taste, at least. you had run off to grab the three of you drinks from the vending machine. unfortunately, the one near the common area was broken. despite satoru having the ability to fix it, he was being a hardass and refusing to.

this made you have to almost walk around the entire campus just to get the drinks for them.

satoru was going on and on about how considerate you were, both as a friend and boyfriend. suguru didn't mind that much. he loved to praise you for your actions no matter how big or small - especially to those around him.

it was his own subtle, greedy way of saying, "look at my boyfriend and all he does for me because he loves me, yeah, i am the luckiest guy in the world~"

obviously, when he does sing your praises they aren't as obvious as that. they're subtle, inconspicuous.

or, another way of phrasing that would be, not as obvious as gojo satoru makes his admiration for you be.

like suguru said, he doesn't mind when others sing your praises. you deserve the recognition for being so kind. but, in his humble opinion, it almost sounded like satoru was just yearning now.

yearning for his boyfriend. seriously, of all people...

it made a tick mark appear on his forehead as he thought about it.

"and, and! did you see the way he was so eager to just go grab them for us? even though he doesn't have to, [name] is always putting others before him. he's really a great guy, i bet he's an amazing boyfriend too, suguru! god, you're one lucky man!"

suguru's eye twitched, "i know, i am lucky, he treats me really well,"

"well, you better treat him well too, or else who knows! he might ditch your sorry ass," it was obviously a joke, with the way satoru's mocking laugh echoed after he said that, it was very obviously a joke.

but suguru was already at his limits in dealing with satoru's bad jokes.

"oh, so you can sweep him off of his feet after he ditches me, right?"

satoru stilled at the comment, looking at suguru as if he were crazy. but before he could shout about how out of pocket suguru was being, he was cut off, "you've been dick riding my boyfriend for the past ten minutes, satoru, is there something you wanna say to me?"

satoru's blue eyes blinked owlishly, "are you seriously saying what i think you're saying? are you a dumbass?"

"i don't know, you tell me. you're the one that was sounding like a desperate school girl trying to get noticed by her crush, not even ten seconds ago,"

now satoru was just offended! god, he can't even sing your praises without a jealous suguru breathing down his neck.

[name] control your man or else i won't know what i do to him for pissing me off, was the only though in satoru's mind.

"don't be such a dick just cause you're jealous, dude," satoru warns, only making suguru's eyes glare at him even more - as if he were insulted.

"i'm not jealous," suguru weakly defended, making satoru only roll his eyes.

when you returned a couple seconds later, satoru took his juice from you, placed some yen to pay you back for it into your now open hand, and walked off.

"huh? i thought satoru was going to wait with us here for shoko?"

"change of plans, he and shoko are gonna meet up elsewhere. they said we could have the time together for some couple business or something," suguru easily lied, not at all feeling bad for doing so either.

with how often shoko and satoru were complimenting you for how selfless you were, they surely wouldn't mind you spending personal time with your own boyfriend, aka him, aka geto suguru.

"oh, if it's alright with them, let's go!" you cheerfully smiled, unscrewing the cap of your juice and linking your arm through suguru's. "what's the plan for today then, babe?"

suguru almost melted at your touch and pet name for him. he gazed down at you lovingly, shrugging his shoulders with a smile on his face, "anywhere you wanna go, prince, i'll just follow along,"

you pout at his lax attitude, but sigh and choose a random arcade to spend your time in. he nods in approval, allowing you to drag him through the streets of tokyo with a smirk on his face.

you were his and he was yours, he thought to himself. he held your hand in his now, walking through the dimly lit arcade with you two closely connected with each other.

he was the one you were spending time with the most, not shoko or satoru. he was the one that got the teddy bear you won for him, not shoko or satoru. and he was definitely the one you were kissing, not shoko or satoru.

they can sing your praises for being a perfect boyfriend and tease and degrade his status as yours as much as they want, but at the end of the day, their words mean nothing as he's the one who's truly winning.

after all, it's his bed you sleep in at night and he's the one who gets to have you be the first thing he sees in the morning.

suguru felt stupid for even being the slighest bit jealous of satoru's words earlier. he doesn't even know why he was jealous. because satoru was so obviously admiring you? because it sounded like satoru was noticing the little things you did just how suguru did?

how could suguru even feel jealous about little shit like that, when you're the one saying the sweetest words about him being your boyfriend.

(don't praise him too much, though, his heart may stop at your endearing words. seriously, his face feels like it'll explode with how heated his cheeks get and how erratic his heart beat can go.)

[urfavleo777]

colby brock smut alphabet

pairing: colby brock × fem!reader. posting one more time.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) He'll let you catch your breath and after will be so affectionate and sweet, nuzzling his head into your neck and giving you little kisses. “You make me feel safe” after fucking the soul out of you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His arms and his throat, for obvious reason too. He knows his arms are one hell of a looker, and he loves the way you grip them for dear life as he shows you a good time. Taking a dominant role, he tries not to reveal how much he sinks into the ground when you passionately kiss his neck. The way he rolls his eyes shows how pleased he is, but no more than for a fraction of a second. He wants to see you writhing beneath him and not take his eyes off you even for a millisecond. As for you, he treats your body like a goddamn sculpture. He’s totally obsessed with your thighs. He loves to squeeze, kiss and bite them just to tease you. And it always works.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves it when you give him head, loves the way his warm seed spills between your lips as you try to swallow it. He loves grabbing your roughly by your chin, smashing his lips onto yours to get a taste of himself. He is absolutely a slut for eating you out and he would go on and on about how good you taste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He actually enjoys being a sub quite a lot. Even though he prefers to dominate, you can't count how many times he called you “mommy” when you were taking care of him. After giving him commands, he acts like an obedient puppy. Phrases like “Who's momma’s good boy?” only make him weaker.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He exactly knows your sensitive spots and there is no way he doesn't know what in hell he's doing. He's charming and knows how to use it to get what he wants, even if it's just a quick handjob or blowjob.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) “I want to sit on your face.” He’s already sold. And when you sit on his face, all of the joyful things he loves about oral sex become magnified. You love being admired by him, which gives him a lot of pleasure. He keeps a bruising grip on your thighs, adoring the creases and valleys that your body makes.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) More than you'd think. He’s definitely a tease, so there will be moments where he pokes a bit of fun and the occasional ominous sadist smile.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) He tries to keep up the maintenance, but sometimes he forgets. He doesn’t expect someone to shave for him if they don’t want to. He’s just glad you enjoy having sex with him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He is more filthy and mouthy than romantic during sex. He likes to hear you call him ‘daddy’ and ‘sir.’ I think after sex, he’s all goofy and romantic. He gives you lots of praises and romantic words.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Well, if he's horny, he just goes to you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Choking, daddy kink, and cockwarming are Colby’s all-time favorites. He loves choking you, but if you say your safe word, he’ll drop everything and make sure you are okay. Colby loves nicknames, but he loves hearing you call him “Daddy”. He just wants to protect you, and of course, he loves the baby girl and daddy kink role play.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Colby isn’t the most adventurous when it comes to location. He would hate to give anyone some leverage over him, especially regarding his personal life so he keeps the private places. But when at home it’s a different story; the bed, the shower, the bath, any counter or table, his libido could rise at any moment leaving you with very little time before he’s pressing you down on the nearest surface, always making sure to keep his eyes on you at all times.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) When someone else flirts with his partner. He gets jealous very easily, despite what some might think. He would protectively slide his arm around your waist and introduce himself as your boyfriend, even if he isn’t. Another simple thing that would get him going is when his partner calls him Cole, preferably in a sweet little whine.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) He would never do anything to hurt you. Yeah, he's into pain, but only when it comes to himself. He can't bare the idea of doing anything to inflict pain upon you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Oh he definitely prefers receiving. Pulling your hair behind your head to help guide you, feeling you gag around him struggling to take his length he loves all of it. And, oh my god, seeing you on your knees sucking him off is truly one of the most beautiful sights he has ever witnessed.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) He fucks you hard and fast, so rough and brutal that you’re seeing stars.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He tires you out good and proper pretty much every single time he fucks you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Colby’s pretty loud. He whimpers, moans, groans, sometimes growls, pants a lot. It honestly spurs you on more when you hear what sounds he makes.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Colby could fall asleep quite quickly afterwards, but he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew you were okay and well looked after. He stays awake longer than you most nights, watching sleep take you.

[thatfrenchacademic]

"The biggest issue is students using it, me spotting it and having no recourse whatsoever to do anything about it." can you elaborate a bit further

Hello !

So to explain a bit more: we [aka your lecturers, teachers, teaching assistants, etc...] know that some students will use ChatGPT.

And there is a discussion to be had about how to work with this, how to design assessment which allow students to leverage something which may simply become a fixture of writing in a workplace environment, but that is not the discussion we are having here. Because that is not what we are worried about.

The defensible, problematic situation is: a student straight up entering the essay prompt on ChatGPT, and using the grand skills of Ctrl+C / Ctrl+V, submits it as their own paper.

And our main worry, I think, was for a long time that we would not be able to catch it. That students would, actually, be able to fool us and that we would actually think this was a student who understood the course, who put in the work, and who deserve to be rewarded for their grade. That was the main fear.

But here is the thing.

And listen up, students :

Essays written by ChatGPT :

Suck

Are spotted from a mile away from the person reading it

For real. They suck.

I cannot stress enough how easy they are to spot. You are NOT fooling anyone. I do not need the platform's AI-detecting tool to know when an essay was written by Chat GPT. It is so, very painfully obvious when that's the case.

But the problem then becomes : ok, I have spotted a student who cheated.

What am I even supposed to do with it.

It is one thing to KNOW that an essay was AI-generated, it is another to defend it to a plagiarism committee. First of all, does it actually count as plagiarism ? Second, how do prove, with certainty, that the student did not write it ? How to I convince the plagiarism committee that this is worth looking into ? I am in the role of a police officer, who needs to convince the DA that this is a winnable case, that prosecuting will not be a waste of their time. But I don't have a Similarity Percentage to rely on. I don't have an original source to say "look, this is the exact same wording!" like in a classic plagiarism case.

Best case scenario, I can make my case for thee student to actually be called to the plagiarism committee, where we probe into how, exactly, they wrote their essay, until they fold. Unlikely, morally questionable, and in all likelihood, ineffective on students already so confident in their bullshit that they have the audacity to submit a fully AI-generated work for their finals.

Now, students, gather up, especially if you have considered using Chat GPT this way. Because right now, you might think it means you can get away with it.

But let me tell you something. First, that essay is getting the shittiest grade we can give you. Because you know what is more difficult than a lecturer proving that a student used AI to generate their essay ? A student proving that they deserve a better grade. Once we give you a grade, burden of evidence is on you to prove that you have not been graded properly. And we can come up with 15 reasons why an essay is a shit essay. We put on kids' gloves, when we lecture and give feedback. We give the simplified version of most theories, we give the basics of how to structure an essay, the bar we set is spectacularly low, because students come in good faith, they are learning, they will not be held at the same standard as academics. But if you try to argue that you need a higher grade, when you had the audacity to not write a single word of your work, the kids gloves are going to come off real quick, and your lecturer will be able to very convincingly explain why, actually, giving you a passing grade was a mercy in the first place.

Second. Academics, especially angry academics, are a gossip machine.

You may get a passing grade, and there may be no official note of it in your file whatsoever. But I can guarantee you that your lecturer will chat with their colleagues. That every single one of your essay that year, and the years to come, will be looked at with so much scrutiny I hope your referencing for every single work reaches perfection. Every single paragraph will be looked at with the knowledge that you are likely to have had it AI-generated. Lecturers will tell their TA to look at for That One Student when they grade you .You will not be getting any flexibility from us, no extension without full documentation to support it, no letter of recommendation from any member of the faculty, no word in your favor if you are bordering a grade bracket. If we are feeling especially petty, we might even forget to answer your emails or answer any question you have with such warmth and kindness you really still never feel like asking a question again in our class. And I know that, because that's already happening. I have the name of three undergrads that we know, for a fact, did not write their own essay. Two are not even in my modules at all.

Now. That's pretty mean. But if you have the absolute audacity and lack of ethics required to submit an essay for which you have not written a single word, and thought it would actually work, when your lecturer spent probably more that 80 hours working in this module this term, gave you the opportunity to meet for office hours, to ask any question in person or in email, to have extensions, accommodations, additional time ? When you decided that putting exactly zero second of your time, considered that you were above that - and above other students- and yet we were not able to officially sanction you for it, we had to give you a passing grade, the same passing grade as students who actually made an effort?

Yeah, sorry, you are not getting any sympathy from your lecturers anymore.

[almalvo]

About An Official Spiderverse Artist...

Please do not just scroll past this post; read it.

If you guys follow me on twitter, you probably already know.

But if you dont or still want to read this anyway - here you go:

I aint big, but I got a growing platform that I see as important for me to use as a force for things that matter.

So here I am.

And I got something to say about a certain "artist".

There are so many fucked up people who call themselves artists who are so heavily worshipped by us who both get and or dont get outed in the world for things they do and for their general piss-poor behaviours and persons.

Im here to talk about one in particular (and certainly wont be the last).

There is an artist that basically EVERYONE here has seen art from before, printed in the official Sony artbooks too.

If you have seen this:

Then you have seen this artist before.

His name is Alberto Mielgo. He goes by @/pinkman_himself on twitter.

He is a HUGE part of the art direction and stylisation of the spiderverse movies, if that isnt already obvious. Because he was the former original art director of Into The Spiderverse.

Yes. Former.

Cuz he got "mYsTeRiOuSlY fiReD" from Sony 2 years into pre-production and completely removed from the project.

You may have also seen this character before:

Yes. THAT asian character from Netflix's Love Death + Robots, from the episode "The Witness".

Familiar? Yeah. Because this episode was also made by the same guy, Mielgo.

I aint going to talk about what happens in that episode and hesitate to encourage anyone to watch it - cuz all it basically is is a megalo-misogynistic, assault "glorified for the sake of aRtT", racially fetishised showcase of this crazy makeup/haired bdsm stereotyped asian girl sex worker who essentially gets murdered over and over and over after running for her life completely naked through the city for all of us to see for some fucking reason.

BUt yeah anyways, you can see it in the first pic, but Ill put it here to show more clearly - this here is NOT the character from LDR. But I can understand why you might think so:

Yeah. You read that name in the bottom right corner correctly. This is Peni Parker. His concept art of Peni Parker. A 13 YEAR OLD CHILD. Lookin suspiciously like and dressed as the adult person from LDR with ALSO the crazy hair, make up - WITH AN O-RING CHOKER AND BALL-GAG LIPSTICK (BDSM).

13. year. old. child.

This man only sees east asian women this way.

He likes them crazy, sexy, broken--

and young.

Cuz this man also wrote this on a now-deleted post on his website:

Yeah. He, this whole ass middle-aged white cishet male spaniard thirstin for kids since he was 18 for 12 year old girls.

Cuz 12 year old girls are a fuckin "KNOCK OUT" when they grow up, when they ripen up into adulthood, to this man Alberto Mielgo, aka @/pinkman_himself, this creature.

And if auctioning NFTs isnt bad enough (cuz yes, ofc he does that too - its literally the first option on his website) -

His entire fucking portfolio is of drawing women he had sex with.

His fucking PROFESSIONAL PORTFOLIO is all of painting and drawing women in very compromising, questionable ways of the VERY SAME WOMEN HE HAD SLEPT WITH THROUGH HIS LIFE.

They look as creepy as they are.

But the scariest part?

While I myself had only just found out about this some days ago as of writing this, some of us have known about this man and his antics for years.

And he keeps getting greenlit by the industry, over and over and over; winning awards, getting respected, praised, admired, even by fellow at-home artists like many of you out there if you dont already do so.

And nothing will happen to him cuz he is a white cishet male artist who has money and a following and connections and influence and power.

So yeah.

I just wanted to talk about a certain official Spiderverse artist to just let yall know there are freaks everywhere, and that no matter how small it is, it's people like me and you who need to do what we can to keep up awareness and warn our communities and protect our most vulnerable.

My suggestion is to take heed of what I said, ask questions about everything you will ever see again from anyone around you, no less the industry, THINK for once, and actually give a fuck.

Keep away.

Do not support this man.

But the decision is ultimately yours.

Stay awake, yall.

-------

(His face, publicly available as his imdb profile):

scary.

[kujoestars]

The Mechanism of Kafka's Transformation and How It Affects Him

(Crossposting my analysis/theory from Reddit. Also, warning: this post contains both anime and manga spoilers so beware if you are anime-only)

So, something that drove me nuts about the manga's version of the X-ray scene was the fact that there was literally no difference from a normal human chest x-ray. The anime THANK GOODNESS fixed that:

We finally know exactly how Kafka's core looks while he's in human form. It appears to be primarily occupying where the chambers would be with a good amount of myocardium (the heart muscles) suspending it while also continuing to function as a heart.

Notably for me, there's actually a translucent hemicircle up top there where it's supposed to connect to the aorta. In fact, you can see the core is translucent on its left (our right) side while more opaque to its right (our left).

Let me highlight it for reference I hope y'all appreciate the fact I had to do it with a mouse on MSPaint because Reddit won't save images to drafts and I can't drop images from tablet like on desktop:

It appears that Kafka's heart was fully converted and the tissue there is just a facsimile since it appears to be forming a pouch for the core to nestle in.

The anime's expansion of the scene the Mysterious Larva/Young Yoju fused with Kafka ended up perfectly tying in to this. Something I noticed was that Kafka was not actually transforming for most of it. Initially he was clutching at his throat where it entered:

Then just before the transformation started (when his eyes started glowing), he was clawing desperately at his chest:

For reference to anyone who's never studied anatomy, the mid-esophagus is actually resting against the heart, which is why the best form of imaging for the heart is a transesophageal echocardiogram (i.e. stick an ultrasound down the esophagus), which works like in this diagram:

In other words, the Larva's target was his heart and it was burrowing into it from that point. Which is consistent with where Kafka was clawing at in the shot I posted before and why after the change completed, his hand was resting just above that area:

Basically, the theory I have been saving specifically for after this episode is: Everything about Kafka's body is tied to the core.

Yes, that was obvious since we saw him regenerate his entire body from just the core, but what I'm saying here is that that the heart was the only thing the Larva was trying to fuse with. The rest of the body followed instantaneously once the heart became a core. Kaiju cores appear to be storing a lot of energy, so it would fit in with why even the initial change could happen so rapidly. It was a large burst of energy that had Kafka's cells all convert and restructure, and we even see steam coming both off and out of him here in the anime.

All future changes seem to be purely a matter of him controlling every cell in his body like individual muscles or even like how cuttlefish and octopi are able to change their appearance in an instant from muscle contractions and chromatophores.

In other words, the evidence has stacked to full OVERKILL that Kafka is truly a kaiju that can shapeshift into a human rather than the reverse like he and everyone else prefers to think.

Which leads me to my big pet theory right now: the reason Kafka is losing his ability to revert to human form is because he's becoming malnourished. I won't stack the image evidence since I've already done enough and the focus is on the core and Kafka's real biological nature now (I'll save that for a future post, lol), but it only stands to reason that if Kafka is physiologically a kaiju regardless of form, that means he has the metabolic needs of a kaiju.

He was only fine before because he had a lot of extra body fat as reserves and didn't use his kaiju form much. But after entering the Defense Force, he's been in multiple situations where he had to push himself while transformed and consume much more energy. If you pay attention to his body type, you'll notice he's been having quite a bit of weight loss.

Sure, he's been training a lot too and eating better, but following the fight with Isao, he's becoming abnormally thin. Maybe not enough for people to immediately think he needs a sandwich, but as of the latest chapters, I've noticed he's actually pretty lanky now even in kaiju form when previously Kaiju No. 8 was built like a bear.

You could argue it's just art evolution EXCEPT literally no one else had such a drastic change in body type or AT ALL. I'm pretty convinced this is an intentional transition from Matsumoto.

Whatever Kafka is eating as a human, it's not enough to sustain him long term and so his body is going into power save mode. And since his default is kaiju (why else would he constantly slip up his first few months if it wasn't actually his default form?), his body is losing its ability to shapeshift because it doesn't have the energy to. Malnourishment tends to manifest in a similarly piecemeal fashion irl, so I'm not surprised its first sign is just one spot on his hand.

Such a deceptively simple reason for the kaijufication is precisely why I'm very certain that is the cause. Kafka has a lot of issues with loving and taking care of himself. And this series is all about subverting tropes in favor of common sense. It's not some "inner demon" trying to take over (the Larva actually only did that once because Kafka was both in danger and refusing to fight back what it perceived as another daikaiju); Kafka just isn't taking care of himself as usual!

And there you have it, folks. Finally, a clear breakdown of what exactly the Larva did, how the transformations work, and why the kaijufication may not be as scary as everyone thinks. Or rather....not in the way they think. Someone please feed that kaiju properly!

[bell4donn4]

Strawberry ice-cream | the summer in which Luke Castellan fell in love *ੈ♡⸝

In May, when you first arrived at camp, it was obvious to everyone that you didn’t like the place at all. Usually, campers would finally find bit of peace in that lost spot, far from the normal life and the judging mortals. But that wasn’t the case for you, you didn’t like living there.

The only “joy” you had, was the guy who you were assigned to. Luke Castellan, the counsoler of the Hermes’s cabin. The problem was, that he wasn’t a joy to be around at all, or at least that’s what people said. He wasn’t like that with you- okay, maybe at first he was ruder and more distant, but you brushed it off as shyness.

Chris, another guy from the Hermes’s cabin, explained he didn’t used to be like until he went off to some sort of mysterious quest you weren’t allowed to know anything about. But nonetheless, other than being a bit quiet, he wasn’t mean or bad to you at all, so you brushed Chris’s words off as well.

Quick weeks went by and it was already June, and all you did was follow Luke Castellan around. All of the other counsolers tried their best to integrate you inside of the camp’s community, but without much results. It’s just seems as you couldn’t enjoy anyone’s company.

You were quick to get sad, and it took a lot to even get you to open your mouth. It wasn’t that you were wary, just irreparably miserable.

Once again, the only light you had, was Luke. He was the only one who seemed to get you, and eventually everyone just gave up on you, leaving the burden to the guy. after all, this was the first time he took on a new camper ever since the quest.

You didn’t necessarily despised the camp, or the activities, Luke figured, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to like them either. Luke would often see you around camp, pouty, and lost in thoughts. Even when you had a training session with him, you still sighed and huffed everytime you got disarmed. Luke knew not to go hard on you, to be gentler than he normally would, yet it didn’t seem to help your case.

You liked lacy tops, and pearly white satin. Even while being in the Aphrodite’s cabin, it still seemed like you couldn’t fit in. You always looked helpless.

He tried his best to help you out, and his (only) friend would often tease him about how close the two of you were, the way you would follow him around like a lost puppy, and refuse to get a hand by anyone else.

Whenever Luke couldn’t be with you— to train you or to force you to participate in the camp’s activities— you would always find ways to disappear, so that Clarisse (another camp counsoler) couldn’t get you. You would disappear in thin air, and Luke would then have to come and find you in the most unthinkable places.

And for some reason, when he was able to find you— you were always snacking on a pink creamed cone; your signature strawberry ice cream, the one that matched your shiny lipgloss.

<<y/n- they’re looking for you. Cmon, let’s get out>>

<<but I don’t want to>>

And sometimes, he would let you stay hidden. Sitting beside you without letting a word out. He figured you liked the silence. And he did too.

Also, those were the only times in which you look the little bit happier; when you could sneak away and retire in a peaceful snack time. And he liked to see you happy, so he’d just go back to the others (after a good while tho) and tell them he couldn’t find you.

But by July, his friend noticed his weird acts. And Luke couldn’t hear the end of his big mouth.

<<you need to court her>> or <<you like her so much it’s embarrassing>> or even <<if you don’t make her understand your feelings, someone else will steal her from you>>

And he was right, but Luke thought you were just way too sweet for him.

So sweet you could give cavities. While he was all broody and moody. Mad and slightly rude to people who didn’t know him before the infamous quest.

Not to mention the way you we’re basically the only person he was nice to, and he personally thought that was enough of a give away; so much of a give away that he often would slap himself at his own awkwardness. but Chris reminded him that you didn’t even know how he acted with other people, since he tried so hard to be nice to you and in front of you. So how could you possibly know?

Luke would simply just shrug his shoulders every time, because he just couldn’t bring himself to get any closer. Maybe because he was scared, or maybe because he didn’t think he was worthy of it.

Nonetheless, you were completely unaware, because if you knew about the boy’s feeling, you definitely wouldn’t want to spend anymore time with him, but that definitely wasn’t the case, since you always begged for him to be with you, to hang with you and to spend time together.

He would get all red and giddy whenever you looked up to him with your doe eyes, asking him to spend more time with you. Sometimes he would find excuses not to, or other times he would simply agree, and stay silent for most of the time, scared to say something wrong and ruin everything. But you liked it anyways; actually, you loved to talk and loved even more to he listened.

You would spend hours talking to Luke about your newly bought cowboy boots, or whatever vintage find you got from the thrift store in the nearest town. You liked to drink Coca Cola, he learned, and your second favorite sweet treat after strawberry ice-cream were candies, the sugared ones.

You also loved road trips and country songs.

He learned all of these things in silence, simply nodding as you chatted with yourself.

He did find himself repeating all those information to Chris, later in the days when the camp was silent and the two friends could share a quieter moment.

Chris gave up on him at one point, letting his girlfriend’s best friend, Silena from the Aphrodite’s cabin, handle the situation.

But not even Silena seemed to be able to talk to you. You only had eyes (and words) to spar for Luke. Almost refusing anyone’s else company.

Silena clearly told Chris and Clarisse that there wasn’t much she could do. You seemed head over heels for him already. He just needed to understand that.

But Luke was blinded by his insecurities, and by his lack of self-esteem.

Even tho, his ego skyrocket the one time in which you drunkly traced his scar, smiling up like an idiot, and muttering a “you’re so pretty” that only him and the near forest nymph could hear.

But that was a story Luke kept to himself.

Chris eventually figured his friend would have to do something at one point, specifically by the end of summer.

And indeed, by August, Luke couldn’t even sleep anymore at the thought of you leaving camp. He wouldn’t have been able to see you for almost 8 months! That was way too much time.

Everyone noticed the change in his manners, the way he was always so nervous and on the edge of a panic, even you.

<<whats wrong Luke?>>

<<nothing to worry about, just stupid thoughts>>

You light up at his crooked and shy smile. If only you knew.

A week or two before the last day of camp, Chris threatened to push him off of a cliff if he didn’t ask you to stay, but for Luke asking you if you even considered staying was already too much, let alone asking you to stay. And for what even? Luke already knew how much you hated camp; you hated the games and the sparring and the swords and the sweat-

<<im not going home for winter>>

He froze on the spot. You couldn’t just drop such news without warning, how could you do that? Almost giving him and heart attack.

<<but you- you don’t like here>> he said, shuttering

<<I don’t like it at home either.>>

<<at least I have you here>>

Luke that day reevaluated the possibility of setting an alter for his dad in his bunk bed, or for any other god who watched over him, because that was definitely a miracle. Someone all the way up in the sky must have had mercy on him and his unfortunate life.

That day, probably on the 28th of August, Luke Castellan came back in the Hermes’s cabin almost at midnight, stumbling around on his own feet on the way to his bed, involuntarily waking up Chris, who cursed him out just for then to stop and stare at his dumbfounded face.

<<what happened?>>

<<she’s staying>> he smiled, almost scaring his still half asleep friend.

<<…>>

<<man, fuck off>> Chris Rodriguez officially had had enough at that point, but still smiled back to his friend as he laid down in his own bed.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.

Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.

Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)

Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!

NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.

I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-

and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned

BAT X MAGIC ✨

IN ANY CASE

I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind

Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.

And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.

So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.

It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”

I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.

I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).

Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.

Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)

He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.

You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.

Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.

Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.

Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.

…Right?

Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…

All hell breaks loose.

[rey-jake-therapist]

Whenever I rewatch season 1 now, it breaks my heart a bit to see how relax and happy Sauron was around Galadriel. He smiled, laughed, joked, bickered with Galadriel, he ate and drank... the man had the time of his life!

I mean, you can say it was mostly an act to manipulate Galadriel if you want, but there's no way it was all fake. There were several times when we saw him react to a certain way while neither Galadriel or anyone else was watching. It's even more obvious now that we see him in his Annatar form : every time he fakes an emotion for someone, as soon as their back is turned his face is closed. It's pretty terrifying. When I see some people claim it's exactly the same thing he's doing with Celebrimbor as he did with Galadriel... I have the feeling they missed the point, somehow.

One thing noticeable is that he was constantly looking at Galadriel, whenever she was close to him he couldn't just stop take his eyes off her. Call me delulu all you want, I'm sure her presence explained a lot why he was so relax, happy and shall I say.... Kind? I mean, the one time she went away without him he nearly killed four men 😭When Gal was here, he behaved !

No wonder why he's so grumpy now as Annatar. He has no one around him who's got enough light to balance the darkness that consumed him. The moth lost his favorite flame, and now he's constantly bitter, dead eyed, unable to laugh anymore, and cruel. Someone here noticed that we never see him eat or drink anything. Darkness, unbalanced, has taken over again. For good, we know.

The only time we see a glimpse of his Halbrand self reappear is when he notices the resemblance between Mirdania and Galadriel, and it's again a question of light. It starts as pure flattery from his part to manipulate her, but his smile at his moment seems sincere. More sincere than any other of Annatar's smile, anyway.

Imho, Sauron was dead ass serious when he told Galadriel that with her at his side, he wouldn't be dark. It doesn't matter that he was right or wrong ; I think he really meant it, because he had already felt the influence she had on him.

I believe the last thing he wanted was for Galadriel to become a "dark queen", though it would have happened eventually because he would have influenced her just as much as she would have. He didn't want her to become like him, but to prevent him from getting worse. He wanted her to fix him, basically.

We can thank Charlie Vickers for his stellar acting. What a wonderful portrait of a complex "man" he's giving us here....

[whetstonefires]

Man sometimes I still think about Alfred's Bandit Anecdote in The Dark Knight (2008).

So, the most straightforward reading of this sequence seems to have been the one Nolan intended, because he is not actually a subtle filmmaker, and the further we got into the series the more heavily he committed to making Alfred a mouthpiece. Old man provides words of wisdom that frame the correct understanding of the situation; you can tell it's meant to be correct because subsequent Joker appearances reinforce its thesis statement.

Intended takeaway: some men (like the Joker) don't have rational motivations, they just 'want to watch the world burn,' and you have to account for that when trying to counter them. Chaos agents, basically unstoppable by reasonable means.

But the thing is. This is not a story that stands up to even mild interrogation. The number of assumptions Nolan wants us to swallow without blinking is kind of stunning.

First of all the obvious timeline questions that arise: the Anglo-Burmese Wars and periods between and leading up to them where this kind of white man's burden 'delivering jewels to local elites In The Burmese Jungle to sway them toward British interests, but getting waylaid by bandits' scenario makes any sense all, happened in the 19th century.

The Burmese resistance in the 1930s was centered on university student protests and that sort of thing; it was reasonably successful in moving Myanmar toward independence by increments, though who knows what would have happened without WWII. But it did not provide anyone with reasons to be hand-carrying huge gemstones through forests.

Even if we assume this was somehow a 20th century event, it has to have been before WWII unless we want to postulate a complete alt-history setting, and since The Dark Knight leans heavily into being a modern 21st century story with like, cell phone networking as a major plot point, this still makes Alfred old as balls. Born no later than 1920, and probably earlier.

But that's whatever; comics time. Batman Begins did some fun stuff (possibly in imitation of Batman (1980)) with making it ambiguous what decade it was supposed to be set in, though the sequels dropped that conceit. And anyway, people can be 90 years old.

So that's basically fine, although good god Wayne hire some more servants, this man should be fully retired already.

More problematic is the unfettered colonialism of it all, the confident proclamation that since this guy's motive wasn't profit, since he didn't keep the jewels, he had no motive. Because 'inconveniencing the Raj and weakening their control over the locality' isn't a Real Person Motive that a real person could have had. During or soon after failed wars to resist colonial subjugation.

Like. Come on??

The place where this story utterly shoots itself in the foot, though, is the clever bit at the end, where Bruce asks how Alfred's military unit solved the 'bandit stealing jewels he didn't even want' problem and Alfred's like: 'we burned the forest to the ground.'

Because this is so punchy! In screenwriting technical terms, it's quite well done. It's useless advice that loops the story back to its themes; obviously Batman can't burn Gotham down to get the Joker. Even in a Batman movie that doesn't like Batman very much, this is still obvious.

But at the same time this totally takes the legs out from under Alfred's words of wisdom about human nature. Because if that bandit 'wanted' to 'watch the world burn' then what his unit did wasn't so bad, right; he was basically asking for it. Burning a forest down with all the inevitable collateral damage and economic and ecological cost, all for the sake of horribly killing a group of people in the name of government revenues was totally okay guys!

It transforms the whole thing into a pretty obvious post facto rationalization of colonial violence. Which makes the Insights Into Human Nature bit real questionable!

But the movie gives absolutely no sign of having noticed this.