#baseball player!Gojo

[kedsandtubesocks]

erika i am so curious about baseball player gojo..... like.... omg 😳😳

Sel… I am going to chase after him with a baseball bat…

00: Foul Ball.

You run into the tallest man you’ve ever seen in your life at your favorite local coffee shop.

Literally, while moving to your usual seat this giant of a man, not paying attention on his phone, smacks right into you spilling both his and your hot drinks all over you.

It burns, thankfully not that much. Mainly embarrassment and annoyance burn you more. Frustratingly you try to dab away the mess with the pathetic wad of napkins the guy shoves at you.

“Look! Please let me pay for another drink and anything else you want!” Your mystery man

“No it’s fine.” You seethe trying to gather your dignity.

“Aw come on! Those pumpkin cheesecake muffins look pretty good! Don’t you want one?!” He cries almost desperate.

Turning up you’re about to snap at him when you finally get a very good look at your current enemy.

He’s tall with striking cloud white hair. Sleek modern sunglasses slide down his nose as azure pool eyes stay focused on you. And of course he’s absolutely gorgeous.

To save your sanity your eyes dart to the bakery display and spot those muffins he mentioned.

“…okay fine. But I also want a croissant.” You mutter.

He buys you two of each.

You’re also surprised at how adamantly he drags you to sit down at a table.

“We can break bread together over our temporary peace treaty.” He beams.

The man is annoying charming, like a song you find annoying but can’t help but still bop your head to.

He’s new in town, actually moved here all the way from Japan.

“That’s a long way from home.” You admire genuinely. “What brought you out here?”

“Work.” He says simply and with a shrug.

Your mystery man rapidly and eagerly jumps to ask about you, where you work, what you do.

It feels…like a pity conversation. As easy as it is talking to him, you know this is unfolding simply because he ran into you and is trying to just smooth things over.

“Look,” you sigh picking at your croissant. “We don’t have to do this.” You wearily wave your hand between the you and him. “The pathetic small talk and all that. I get it, accidents happen and I appreciate the apology muffin. But you can head out.”

“Don’t forget the ‘I’m a clumsy and unaware idiot’ croissant I got you.” He adds and your lips twitch.

“And come on. I’m not that boring to talk to am I?”

He isn’t and it annoys you even more.

“Besides, who says I maybe just wanna chat with the cute stranger I accidentally spilled various drinks on?” He smile wide at you and it’s dangerous.

He’s dangerous.

Mystery man vows to run into you again same time next week and he is true to his words. In his hands are more pastry treats and your drink order, because of course he remembered.

It’s then that you finally learn his name.

“Gojo, Satoru Gojo.” He introduces himself. “Though you can call me cute coffee guy.” He smoothly adds.

You refuse to call him that and he playfully cries.

Again, it shocks you how just easy it is talking to him. Conversation is casual and so effortless. Gojo eagerly listens to your recommendations about places to visit, restaurants to try out.

“As long as you go with me! I need my own cute tour guide unless I’ll get lost.” Gojo pleads.

You roll your eyes and hate how fast your heart beats at his words.

Then his phone goes off. Sighing Gojo answers it. You give him privacy by looking at your own phone. However, you can’t help but catch bits of the conversation. He talks about a photo shoot scheduled for the end of the week and how his agent will be making any adjustments to the time slot.

And it clicks. He’s a model. He’s definitely a model.

“Sorry, work being dumb.” Gojo apologizes as he hangs up.

“No worries.” You reassure him casually. You realize you never fully asked about his job last time.

“So, what do you do?” This time you make sure to.

Gojo’s wide sky eyes flicker to you as he takes a sip of his tea.

“Oh I’m a professional baseball player.”

He answers so casually while setting his drink down, like he just told you about the weather. For some reason you can’t help but laugh. Because model made sense, but a baseball player?

“What?!” Gojo cries playfully. “I’m serious look!”

Suddenly he grabs his phone again. He quickly types something on it and turns it to you.

What he did was Google himself. Because of course he did. Low and behold, you discover he is indeed not a model.

Instead, you see his broad shoulders, his tall frame, looking infuriatingly gorgeous in a uniform -

And you learn that your mystery coffee man, Satoru Gojo, is in fact a very real and actually very famous professional baseball player.

[quirklessidiot]

title: Y/N and her boys [sneak peek] pairing : Upper classman/popular kid!Gojo Satoru x F!reader, Exchange student!Eren Jaeger x F!reader, MMA Fighter/Celebrity!Ryomen Sukuna x F!reader, Childhood Bestfriend!Aki Hayakawa x F!reader, Varsity football player!Itoshi Rin x F!reader (use of she/her pronouns) Genre: Alternate Universe-University setting, romance, fluff, angst (if you squint), slice of life, drama, all cliche romance genres unite! (Based on the Manhwa, Bunny and her Boys)

Summary: Y/N’s denied the existence of pretty boys and god forbid she’d ever end up dating one yet with one horrid break-up, she decides that relationships aren’t just meant for someone stupid like her but the problem is — five of them suddenly appear and god, why does it seem like they can’t get enough of her?

General warning for the story: mild sexual content, cliche tropes (help), mahito is his own warning, minor character death, mentions of depression, a lot of second-hand embarrassment from y/n's part (shes not a cool girl, SHE IS A BUBBLING MESS AND THATS OK <33), insecurities, bullying, and mentions of cheating Notes: english isn't my first language! (dont judge me) this multi-chaptered story will probably be 20-30 chapters (idk) in ao3. you can totally tell this story is rooted from self-indulgence LMFAO. Im not sure if i should cross post it but im leaning towards ao3 more either ways, can't wait to release this on friday!

also can u guess who she ends up with :P rb’s are appreciated yay FULL VERSION IS RIGHT HERE!

SNEAK PEAK

“Maybe…Maybe we should break up.”

There's another round of silence between you two, and you know that you can’t exactly take it back anymore since you had said it loud and clear, “Woah, woah, I told you I wasn’t with Misa.” his voice turns louder, and the background noises are good as gone as if he had left the noisy place, “Where are you? I’m coming to get you-”

“I said,” you try to control the stammering of your voice, trying to avoid the stares of the people who cast odd glances, “We’re done. I don’t want to see or hear from you again.” and before he could let another excuse out of his mouth, you end the call. It is only now that you notice how your legs have been quivering and your mouth has gone dry, seemingly like a pup who had just been born and trying to walk. You lose your footing and sit down on the dirty pavement.

No tears were shed at that very moment, probably because you were only stupefied, and it was written clearly on your face that this wouldn’t be something you’d recover anytime soon. Heck, you couldn’t even grasp the idea entirely that someone you’ve been friends with for years and, eventually, a lover would do that to you.

Was it as easy as a snap of a finger?

“Miss? Miss?” someone calls out, but it only bounces back to him like an echo in a cave. You remain still, eyes blinking rapidly while the rest of your face is slack. Everyone around you continued to move, but you remained there like a decorated statue.

“Miss? Christ, you’re about to be–” the husky voice also stops, and it’s only now that you look up to find a man. He seems stocky but, simultaneously, smaller, as if he didn’t want to come off as intimidating when he maintained eye-to-eye contact. 

He is incongruous with everyone who walks by since he desperately tries to hide his features with a baseball cap and a dark face mark. The only thing you can see are strands of his bleached hair, his eyes that resemble the sunshine that peeked through the glasses of whiskey, and the swirls of ink becoming visible underneath his coat when he stretches out his arm.

If this were any other day, you’d run in the opposite direction because he looked like an unscrupulous loan shark, but your body remains in a state of unknown fatigue that you just wanted to stay still. 

You watch as his face softens, the lines on his forehead somewhat disappearing when he watches the color bleed from your face. “...Alright…” he stops, squinting as he crouches to your level. His thick thighs encompass the rough expanse of his straight jeans, and you wondered if he had been an athlete or something. Aside from his built, his presence was rather invigorating,  “oh…” he continues, “Sorry, you-uh…” The confidence he had to throw you off is gone like the evening dust as he motions his index finger up and down his face.

At that moment, you feel something wet running down your cheek. It seemed like the waterworks were late.

You didn’t want to be a pity party in front of anyone, and you’d expect there to be only bystanders, not ‘good samaritans’.

You sniffled, violently wiping the tears away as you felt your ribs were too tight when you took one long breath, “I’m fine…” you respond monotonously.

Who were you even fooling? 

“Right…” you carefully watch him take out a handkerchief, “Fine, sitting on a dirty pavement near my car doesn’t make you look fine, Miss.” he prodded.

“Well, what do you care, anyways?” you tried to keep your voice from cracking, but the stranger showed no qualms of anxiety or fear, nor did he seem mad at your snappy attitude. The blue handkerchief is laid on his palm, waiting for you to take it, yet you exhibit no signs of accepting his kindness. Instead of forcing you through like the usual status quo, he returns it to his pockets.

The odd man.

“Well, for one, I don’t want to run your feet over since I’m parked over here,” he thumbs towards the black jeep that’s parked in front of you, “And my mom didn’t raise me to leave a girl sitting alone, crying her eyes out…”

“Well, did your mom tell you to mind your own business, as well?” your body remains heavy and distant from the stranger, not minding if it came off as rude, but you’ve always been wary of them, especially the ones who claimed to be nice. You wouldn’t be swayed even if you were in a vulnerable place.

He sucks in a deep breath, quite surprised that you had the energy to exchange a vehement response to him. Weren’t you just about to bawl your eyes out?

“Well, you honestly looked like you deserve some niceness after whatever happened.” he conceded, remaining suspiciously friendly, “Piece of advice, though, if it’s a guy, he’s not worth it.” 

“I-what makes you think it’s a guy?” there it goes again, the unknown tightening of your throat and the way the gummy lids on your eyes would heat up as if a pipe of water was about to burst and flood the segways any moment.

“It’s always an asshole who doesn’t seem to know how to treat a woman right.” he lamely explains, and slowly but hesitantly, as if he was waiting for you to move away, he places one hand on top of your hand. 

Unlike a while ago, you weren’t as hostile, but you were confused about why the stranger suddenly did this and didn’t seem to tilt away like you usually would, “So go home tonight, Miss. Cry it out and wake up tomorrow for yourself. You’ll be fine.”

You don’t even see his entire face, but the way he gently caresses your hair as if you were a long-time friend had your lips quivering, and without even realizing it, your torso bends forward. You bury your face in your arms, finding solace in your makeshift fetal position.

The stranger says nothing more; honestly, you didn’t even mind. His newfound presence is comforting.

[bunny-lily]

Tether Me - Chapter 4

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.” CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here) AN: arachnophobes beware, there is a spider in this one (it’s fairly early into the chap tho) (also v tiny boi, not even really described). Summer has arrived! No other notes for this one, lovelies ♥ except some more second-hand embarrassment. A bit more Suguru focused in this one ♥ Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 | Ch: 5 - 1 | Ch: 5 - 2 WC: 14k

“Has this house really been abandoned for only 20 years?” You grunted as you forced a scraper under a crumpled section of a newspaper that might as well have been glued to the ground on purpose. Your arms trembled from the strain, knuckles drained of blood, your hands fighting for their lives to finally free the paper of its wooden prison.

With a shallow yelp from you, the scraper came loose, only taking a quarter of the browned paper with it. The section ripped partially through the head of a baseball player, giving him a rather unfortunate face lift.

“That’s what everyone says,” Suguru confirmed as he worked on scrubbing a chunk of the floor like he was trying to avenge someone. His nose wrinkled in disgust when he lifted the rag and observed the dark grime stuck to it. “I asked my gran, she said that she can’t remember the family’s name, something starting on ‘Fu’. Father, mother, and their son. The mother was diagnosed with some sort of illness that the village doctor couldn’t manage, so they had to go to the city.”

“Oh,” you frowned as you sat back on your heels. “Did she survive?”

He shrugged, dipping the rag into the bucket of once clean water beside him. “No idea. They weren’t super close with any of the villagers here, so there weren’t any updates after they left. I assume she didn’t, since they never returned here.”

“That’s sad,” you spoke low as you tossed the piece of ew away in the bag beside you. “I hope they’re okay, one way or another.”

The two of you worked together in the living room, peeling useless bits of goo and gunk to clean the house inch by inch. You'd already finished with the first pass of the kitchen, hallway, and master bedroom. After getting the go-ahead from Uncle Han a bit ago (you felt weird calling him that, but he insisted), you decided to start indoors to spare yourselves from the ever rising sun. With summer approaching, the lawn had been dealt with promptly, the three of you moving through it surprisingly speedily with teamwork.

Satoru, for all his rich boy credit, was actually helping. You were honestly expecting him to maybe work for five minutes, then laze around and whine about being bored, but you were pleasantly surprised by his productivity.

For one, he’d been gathering various architecture and designer house catalogues; stuff that was in, stuff that was out, and everything in between. Whatever might strike your fancy, he was there to offer his input, whether asked or not. You could tell he was having fun showing off expensive house designs, even if it was way too early to be looking at paint colors and matching furniture. He was acting like it was his house that was getting renovated.

He was also helpful with the physical labor portion of fixing this mess up, putting those beefy biceps to good use. He’d done some wondrous work in the kitchen.

That’s not to say he didn’t whine about boredom and hardship and whatnot, but at least he was working while doing so.

Presently, he was in the smaller room opposite to the master bedroom, addressing the tatami issue. Said issue being that the material was practically cemented to the floor below, strangely crunchy for being stiff as a brick, and very much showing its age.

He was experimenting with various methods for prying it off, at his own assertion. It gave him the opportunity to lean into that primal urge to break shit, and who were you to take that away from him?

Every few minutes, you’d hear a muted thud, some strangled noises, and a delightful little swear here and there. You’d learned that he quite hated tatami as a kid, annoyed that he had to be careful with it. He was grumpy that he couldn’t run about and stomp his feet like the spoiled child he was because it’d get damaged, then his folks would get mad. Now, he had the perfect excuse to take all that pent up anger out on some actual tatami.

“You think he’s having fun in there?” You asked as you lifted off another slice of the paper, turning it around in the tight pinch you held it in. Most of the words had faded off or bled from whatever liquid got onto it years prior. You could barely make out a cut-off phrase that made you snort. Left fielder is short!

Suguru sneered at the floor. “I sure hope not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not having fun, so he doesn’t get to have fun, either.”

You rubbed your cheek against your shoulder, fighting the desire to scratch at the itch with your grubby, dirty hands. “Are boys always at each other’s throats like this?”

“Yes,” he answered bluntly, earning a half-laugh, half-cough from you.

You smiled apologetically at him. “I’m sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”

He shook his head as he got up, stripping off his yellow rubber gloves. “I’m not going to back out now after saying I’d help you. I’m gonna keep my word to you. But, I will go grab a drink and think about my life choices outside for a few minutes.”

You breathed out through your nose and waved lazily at him as he stepped out of the open front door, disappearing behind the wall. It was his idea to bring some options for hydration with him, and you lauded him as a genius for it. Even if a quarter of the options were cheap beer. 

Deciding you earned yourself a break, too, you tossed whatever else you managed to free from the floor away, along with your gloves, and got up, shaking out your numb legs with a wince. Ow.

Sure, you’d done next to nothing compared to Suguru, but, oh, your back and arms felt so sore. Poor you. He could forgive you, couldn’t he?

Figuring you should check on Satoru, you trod down the hallway and stopped in the open doorway of the room he was occupying. He was turned halfway towards you, hunched over as he scratched aggressively at the floor with something you could only tell was made of metal. Sweat stuck to his forehead in a thick layer, droplets beading and running down his temples and the curve of his jaw. White hairs were plastered to his cheeks and brow, pale lashes clumped together, lips pulled into a wide grin.

A shiver dashed up your spine.

He looked positively feral.

You should probably leave him be, you didn’t want to get caught in his crossfire, lest you end up the target of his destructive goal. 

You began to creep away, easing off the doorframe, hoping to avoid–

“Mochi!”

Damnit.

“Heyyy, buddy,” you greeted cautiously, meeting his gaze. His winter blues were alight with an untamed sort of fervor, sunglasses folded into the collar of his button-up. Had the moisture on the small of your back always been there? “How’s it goin’ in here?”

“It’s fuckin’ stubborn, but look!” He waved frantically to a boxy pile of…something. Vaguely tan and clumpy and gross. Listen, you weren’t very peeved out by nasty stuff as a kid, but even child you wouldn’t dare touch it.

Gojo, meanwhile, looked ecstatic, seemingly having figured out a method that worked. More or less.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a watery smile. Mainly because you were afraid that he’d pounce on you with that brutish glint in his intense stare if you didn’t show the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for his hard work.

“Wow!” You exclaimed, a smidge stiffly. “You’re doing a great job!”

Satoru ate that shit up. He glowed, preening under your praise, even if it felt like you were talking to a six-year-old kiddo wielding a hammer.

“I know!” He cheered. “This is fun!”

You questioned how long that zeal would last. You also debated whether or not you should tell Suguru that the maniac was having fun. You were curious to see what would happen, but you didn’t want to get dragged into the potential brawl they’d have.

The boy in front of you was panting, the collar of his shirt dampened by the droplets of effort he wiped off with it, and the temperature outside was rapidly rising. As hot as this image was, minus the eugh-factor of your house, you weren’t keen on him dying of exhaustion and leaving you short one extra pair of hands.

How noble of you.

“Wanna come take a break with me and Suguru?” You asked.

He glanced at where he paused his work, back to you, the floor, then you one more time before nodding. “Yeaaah, I did a lot, I deserve a lil’ break.”

He groaned as he pushed on his knees and rose up, absently dusting the front of his pants. You rolled your eyes at his show of theatrics, what with him stretching and whining. Not like you were any better, though.

“C’mon, you big baby,” you stepped out of the doorway, rotating to make your way down the hall. 

That was, until you noticed something on the wall beside you. A black dot, or speck you hadn't seen before. A stain, perhaps; a blotch, something dark stuck to the old paint. You could've gotten it dirty(ier) while you were cleaning at some point. You leaned closer to try and decipher it, squinting–

Legs. 

Not two, four, or six. Eight legs.

With a gagged gasp, you screeched and immediately booked it out of the house, adrenaline pumping through your system at mach speed. You nearly slipped as you banked the corner, your sights set on the open front door.

The blinding white of day was burning into your retinas, but you couldn’t care, you needed to get the hell out! 

Instinctively, you threw yourself into a surprised Suguru’s arms the moment you stepped past the threshold as he peeked into the house, concerned by the commotion. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide, then released a humorous chuckle as his arms wrapped protectively around you. Sturdy, strong, safe.

“There, there,” he soothed, stroking a hand up and down your back, fingertips pressing into pressure points along your vertebrae. It was easy enough for him to figure out what got you so panicked. “You’re alright, it’s just a spider. I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Oh, my god!” You squealed and shook like a leaf, air whistling past your larynx. “Suguru! It’s giant!”

He cooed sweetly at you, obviously entertained by your frazzled state. “It won’t hurt you, you’re fine.”

“I am not fine!”

His laugh rumbled low in his chest, right under your ear as you squeezed the life out of him. “I can’t remove it for you if you don’t let me go, angel.”

You bared your teeth at him. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

Suguru opened his mouth to respond, only to get preemptively cut off by a girlish scream originating from within the house. Seconds later, Satoru was dashing out, colliding directly with you and Suguru. A mix of stifled noises of shock erupted, and all three of you toppled right over onto the hard-packed soil.

Suguru’s arms encased more firmly around your form when Satoru tackled you, one thick arm coming to cradle the back of your head while the other constricted your waist until you were pressed immovably to his front. He pillowed your fall, even though it meant taking the brunt force of the ground’s swift ascent by himself. Satoru collapsed on top of you, leaving you sandwiched between the pair.

This was not how you imagined you’d experience your first yukadon. 

Cheek pillowed by a rigid tit. Spine crushed by a dense body. Lungs utterly squashed. Lavender, cypress, and musk overwhelming your olfactory senses. Super sexy.

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru?” Suguru hissed out, voice strained with pain, compression, and thinly-veiled anger.

“It’s fuckin’ huge, Suguru!” Satoru shrieked back. “Massive! Like, a meter long!”

Amber eyes glared over your head, still clutched to his pec. “Get the hell off, you’re crushing her. And me. You’re heavy as fuck.”

Gojo lifted himself up enough to peer at you, blinked, then laid right back down on top of you. Your wheeze of suffering did nothing to deter him. “But this is so comfy.”

“I will castrate you,” your personal airbag threatened.

Cyan eyes filled with spite as he finally rolled off of you and to the side, allowing Geto to loosen his hold until you could breathe freely. While Satoru was busy grumbling to himself and looking for his glasses, the pair having been flung off in the clamor, Suguru gazed down at you with worry pooled in his softened hues.

“You okay?” He asked.

You wiggled your toes and fingers, then nodded. “Thanks to you. I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he put away your disquiet with a smile.

You frowned at his attempt at paying no heed to the subject. “That was a pretty bad fall.”

He snorted. “I work on a farm and grew up with Satoru. I’d hardly consider that a fall.”

“Oi!” Speak of the devil. The snow-haired boy had located his glasses, it seemed, as they were resting on the bridge of his nose, free of dirt and dust by some miracle. “Get up already, lovebirds.”

Fire exploded across your cheeks and the tips of your ears as you realized the position you were in – straddling your friend’s waist, chest-to-chest, his strong arms enclosing you to keep you close. 

You yelped and scrambled out of his hold, keenly aware that you were only able to leap off of him and stagger away because he let you do so. He was laughing breathlessly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, endeared by your embarrassed reaction. He grabbed the hand his best friend offered him, their palms clapping as he got tugged onto his feet.

Meanwhile, you were fanning your face in a hopeless attempt to cool the steam lifting from your head, swearing up and down that it was the budding summer heat and not because you got stacked like pancakes by two unreasonably attractive men.

Yeah, that’s what it was.

The sun.

The literal sun, not the sun incarnated in the form of a man that was currently busy brushing off his pants, aided by Satoru clearing his back of debris.

Thank the gods you had tossed the murderous stepping stones off to one corner of the house just a few days prior. You did not want to think about what would have happened to Suguru’s pretty body if you hadn’t.

“You sure you’re okay?” The above-mentioned man with said pretty body called out to you.

You startled in place and cried out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re hot!” Fuck. “I-I mean, it’s– it’s hot! Outside! Right now! We should, uh, stop here for the day!”

Good save.

Dumbass.

You would have smacked your own head with a brick if it wouldn’t attract their attention and make them think you were crazy. Or worse. Turned on.

Suguru and Satoru shared a glance, exchanging in a silent conversation, then Satoru was walking over to the bag of snacks the former brought along, digging around it for a can of soda. He retrieved a separate can of light booze for the other boy, passing it along as they both shortened the distance between you. 

“You sure you wanna call it for the day?” Geto asked, his drink opening with an acute crack and tss, shortly followed by Gojo’s. Thank God they seemed to worn to tease you for your slip up.

Breathing deeply to settle your nerves, you dipped your head twice. “Yeah, it’s starting to get too hot for me.”

For too many damn reasons.

He hummed, sipping his drink as he peered at the chalk-haired boy, who took a sizable gulp in comparison. “Fine by me,” he ground out past the tingle of carbonation, fingers threading through damp, white tresses. “I don’t wanna die of heatstroke.”

“How about we head to the park, then?” Suguru suggested as he stepped away to shut the front door, like that’d prevent intruders or something. The extra security was unneeded, the house itself was enough of a deterrent. “We can stop at Granny’s on the way.”

“Sure,” you assented rather easily. You liked the park. Sitting in the shade, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of the flora there, sounded like a wonderful idea.

Satoru was not as keen. “In this heat? No way.”

His best friend patted his shoulder, gulping down a swig of his drink before responding. “You gotta touch grass at least once in a while, dude. C’mon, it won’t be so bad.”

“Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

“You’re not gonna die, don’t be a drama queen,” he said pragmatically.

You simpered to yourself as you went to grab Suguru’s backpack, zipping it up to keep everything inside. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself more by spilling everything. You grabbed one of the straps, ready to hoist it over your shoulder, just for a big hand to grab it by the top handle and tug it out of your palms.

You didn’t even get a second to prepare to fight for it, the coarse material easily slipping from your grip in a pathetic display of weakness. Your guard wasn’t up. You never stand a chance.

Your head snapped up to find Geto himself, his bag resting against his back as he held it by that same handle, fingers half-closed near his shoulder. He gave you a charming grin, eyes squinted from the squish of his cheeks. 

“Hey!” You gaped, hopping up to your feet. “I can carry it, I’m not helpless!”

The hell you aren’t.

He tipped his head back to finish off his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing and causing more sweat to form on your brow, then tucked the empty can into his pocket to properly toss out later. “You aren’t,” he agreed, ruffling your hair affectionately with his now free hand, “but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lovely lady do all the work?”

All the work? You barely did any work. But, you did like being called lovely, so you supposed you could let it go this once.

Satoru scoffed. “Gentleman? You watched Shoko lug a heavy ass box of shit up two flights of stairs just last week. Hardly call that gentlemanly.”

“You think I’m going anywhere near Shoko and her medical supplies?” Honey-toned irises shifted from you to him. “Hell no. She’d have my head on a pike if I even got close to them.”

“You won’t hold the door open for Utahime,” he accused.

“I’ve held the door for her before. The only person I wouldn’t hold the door for is you, Satoru,” Suguru’s hand drifted to rest below the nape of your neck, scorching the exposed skin there.

He pressed lightly, urging you to start walking with them in the direction of town.

The 6’3” child moped, his eyes drooping. “My own best friend hates me. Practically my brother, and he wants me to die.”

Geto rolled his eyes and bent down to stage-whisper to you. “Drama queen.”

“I heard that!” Satoru exclaimed.

“That was the point.”

You sighed with levity, shaking your head. “Could you two at least try to not kill each other until we get to Granny’s?”

“No promises,” they both responded in unison.

They bickered back and forth over your head, one using you as a shield while the other used you as an excuse to ‘behave’. Not that it stopped either of them from hurling immature threats and insults, each one making you think about how a butterfly felt more scary than either of them.

Or, your presence was taming them after all, and they were more vicious when they didn’t have someone standing guard. What would happen if you were on the other side of one of them? Would the result be the same?

Since when were you into psychology?

“Oi,” a finger jabbed into your cheek, bringing you back to the present, where your trio was crossing over the bridge. “Don’t zone out. Pay attention to me.”

You sent the offending boy a sidelong glance, meeting his intensely cobalt, insisting stare, yet he reveled in it all the same. Attention was attention.

“I’m not zoning out,” liar, “I’m just thinking.”

“About what? About us?” He teased, poking your cheek again.

He squawked and jumped back when you bluffed a strike at him, your teeth snapping dangerously close to his finger.

“Not like that!” He hissed, nursing his finger to his chest. He went as far as pressing the digit against the likely lukewarm can of soda he still had, exaggerating his obvious injury. You know, the one that didn’t exist.

Suguru barked out a laugh. “Like I said; drama queen.”

Satoru harrumphed, mumbling incoherent grievances as he pressed the rim of his drink to his lips, presumably to ‘politely’ muffle his quips with sips of carbonation.

You wanted to bully him a little more, ribbing him when you had the high ground was too much fun.

Geto would probably have more material for you to work with.

“Hey, Suguwu, do you–” you abruptly cut yourself off and slapped a hand over your mouth.

So much for high ground.

Satoru snorted his soda out through his nose and yowled, crying out in pain between guffaws as he clutched his hand over his lips in a hopeless attempt to catch any spare liquid.

Suguru raised a brow at you, a bemused smile spreading lazily across his face, turning his eyes into mirthful, mischievous crescents. “Pardon?”

Your entire face glowing a deep shade of vermillion. “I– can we just pretend–”

“Suguwu!” Gojo wheezed, arms coiling around his stomach, free hand grasping the side of his shirt for dear life. “Y’hear that, Suguwu? Think the lady has something to say, Suguwu. Hah!”

“Don't tease her so much, Satoru. I think it's cute,” he said, adjusting his backpack to hang on his back by one strap.

“Can you, please, just let me die now,” you grumbled, hiding your face with your hand placed flat along the side. You felt like you pulled the pin on a flashbang but forgot to throw it.

Gojo wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm, coughing out whatever liquid had gotten caught down the wrong pipe. You could hear him crooning at you, but you were trying desperately to focus on your destination as it came into view, hoping and praying that Granny would save you.

Or someone, anyone, else.

“Hello!”

Prayers answered! For once!

Your head perked up at the sound of a familiar voice as you approached the store, and you were immensely grateful for the divine timing of your arrival. Candied reprieve kissed your skin, easing your humiliation right away.

“Iori-san!” You called back, returning the wave she sent you in greeting. Spotting a head of brunette hair next to her, you shifted your attention to her companion, lighting up further with both relief and joy. “Oh, hey–”

“Aha!” Satoru jogged forward and spun around, throwing his arm around a less-than-amused Shoko’s shoulders. “This is Ieiri Shoko, she’s the doctor I warn– told you about!”

“Ah, we already met,” you grinned at Shoko, who gave you a ‘can you believe this shit?’ look.

“Wait, what?” He blinked at you. “Really?”

You nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. She called you an idiot.”

Suguru snorted into his palm, briskly facing away to poorly conceal his swallowed back laughter. 

Satoru balked, blinking between you and your mutual friend when she shoved his arm off her. “When was this?”

“Uh…” You pressed your curved index against your chin, calculating. “Same day you and I met, actually.”

He looked completely aghast, utterly betrayed. “Wh– that was ages ago! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

You lifted and dropped your shoulders, grinning sheepishly. “Didn’t cross my mind?”

Deflating with a wispy wheeze that imitated a sad balloon, he pouted and turned his back on the entire group. “Can’t trust anyone around here. Keepin’ secrets, callin’ me a drama queen and an idiot.

Shoko rolled her eyes. “You are a drama queen and an idiot, Satoru,” she grunted and shook her head, then shot a relaxed smile your way. “Thanks for the macarons, by the way. They were delicious.”

“Yeah!” Utahime bobbed her head. “You’re an amazing baker.”

You scratched your neck with one hand and patted Satoru’s back with the other to comfort him. “I actually only know how to make macarons.”

Utahime shuffled closer to you, mouth parted with disbelief. “What? No way! I bet you’d make a great baker! Nothing like that idiot over there,” the bridge of her nose wrinkled with distaste as she sent the whining baby a scathing side-eye.

“I told you she bullies me!” He was looking your way in an instant. “It’s her fault I’m like this! How is any of this fair?”

“She’s older than you, so she gets to bully you,” Shoko stated. “Sibling rules.”

“We are not siblings!” Utahime shouted, nose and forehead flushed red with anger. “Shoko! How could you say that!”

Satoru took that statement and ran. “By that logic, I get to bully Suguru!”

“You already do,” Geto responded.

You blinked, and found a face unexpectedly very close to yours. “What about you, huh?” Ocean blues pierced into the depths of your soul. “You bully me a lot, too. Does that mean you’re older than me– agh!”

He clutched the back of his head where Iori had landed an expert hit, delivered with a precision mastered only after years of training. “Jerk! Don’t you know not to ask a woman her age!?” 

“Why is everyone abusing me today? What did I do to any of you, huh?” He sniffled, bottom lip jutting out as he pinned his watery, puppy-dog eyes on you.

Okay, now you were starting to feel bad. Letting go of a shallow, defeated exhale, you opened your arms to him.

His expression changed to glee faster than you could realize, and within seconds, you were being crushed against his chest. You didn’t give consideration to how strong he was, woefully unaware that his forearms alone could exert enough pressure on your limbs to make a few joints pop. 

“Yippee! I knew someone cared about me!” He stuck his tongue out at everyone else, then nuzzled himself deep into the crook of your neck.

Too hot, too hot, too hot!

“Yeah, yeah,” you hacked out, patting his back. “You can let me go, now.”

“No way,” he refused, breath tickling your collarbone. “This is the least I deserve.”

Shoko was in your peripheral, a wicked smirk on her lips as she stuck a cigarette between them. You mouthed help me to her, and gaped when she pretended to get distracted and miss your S.O.S. request. 

Screw Shoko, Utahime was your favorite person now. She was by you in a snap, prying the arms of steel keeping you caged off of you. Her strength was impressive, especially given that Satoru was actively fighting her on it. There was a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to duck down under their arms, and dash into the safe haven that was Granny’s shop.

Sweet, sweet AC.

You visibly shuddered as a blast of arctic air hit you. Heaven was in all the things easily taken for granted.

The chime of the bell summoned the old lady out of thin air – or it might have been her ‘you’ senses, she had a keen perception for when you’d be coming.

“Oh, hello!” She welcomed you warmly, wholly ignoring the second person with you as she scurried across the floor to reach you.

Granny grasped you by the shoulders and pulled you close, pressing a couple wet, loud kisses on your cheeks, right in front of your ears, making your eardrums pop. Your theory that the sound of kisses grew louder with age was gaining credence.

“How are you feeling, dear? You aren’t working too hard, are you?” She planted the back of her hand against your forehead, steamrolling right along and not giving you a chance to respond. “Oh, my, you’re so warm! Are you feeling feverish? Sick? I’m telling you, you should leave that house to the men who are used to working in those conditions.”

“Granny–”

“Sit, sit, let me get you some water,” she nudged you towards the familiar stool you’d taken respite on many times now, ready to zip away to retrieve that promised glass of water.

“Hey, Granny,” Suguru interrupted that plan by raising a hand in greeting, only to be subsequently pummeled by an angered grandmother. “Ow–”

“Some man you are, letting a lady get ill!” She shamed him.

You immediately hopped up, bolting to his rescue. “Granny! Granny, I’m not sick, it’s okay! It’s just hot outside today.”

She stopped her volley of attacks on the poor, innocent man to take in your appearance. She lifted your arms, eyeing down your figure carefully, then hmphed.

“My apologies, darling,” she reached up to pinch Suguru’s cheek, which somehow looked more painful than the fairly weak smacks she delivered earlier. She was easily able to tug him down to be eye-to-eye with her. “But you have been taking care of her, haven’t you?”

Still, he put on a smile and nodded. “Of course, I have been.”

She smiled broadly at him and released his cheek, patting it gently twice. “My, what a good boy you are. But, if I hear you’ve been mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to beat you with my geta and bury you beside that fish of yours.”

Suguru grimaced as he rubbed the tender spot she had pinched, rising back up to his full height. “Ouch, Granny. Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”

You planted your hands on your hips, eye twitching with irritation. “I’m right here. And, I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I carry extra bottles of water because you always underestimate how thirsty you get,” he fired back. “You sweat it out faster than you think you do.”

You coughed into your fist. That was fucking embarrassing. Now you were worried you had a sweating problem. “Maybe I’m a little forgetful, but it’s not that bad.”

This time, Granny was on your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself!”

“Granny–”

“What if you didn’t have such a dependable, strong, young man to take care of you?” She tutted in disappointment. “What about when your husband is away at work?” – HUSBAND!? – “Will you forget to drink water then, too?”

You half-inhaled your spit, looking up towards Suguru for help in getting out of your pseudo-grandmother’s scolding–

You almost questioned if you were imagining the flashing dots outlining him – or, rather, where he used to be. A quick twist of your head proved he had already sauntered off somewhere towards the back of the store, if the thump of a fridge door was anything to go by.

“Are you listening to me, young lady?” Holy shit, for being an older woman, her pinches hurt.

“Ai– yes, I’m listening,” you assured her, wincing. Looks like you had no savior to get you out of this one. There was some muffled yelling outside the glass pane behind you, implying that the three that didn’t come in were too busy squabbling to see you getting reprimanded.

Though, knowing Satoru, he’d just use this as ammunition against you.

She jiggled your cheek. “Very good. You’re a beautiful woman, you need to take care of yourself. Lots of water, avoid direct sunlight, make sure you eat well, all that. Understood?”

“Understood,” you assented.

That good-natured smile of hers was back, and you were pulled into yet another hug. “D’aw, I can’t stay mad at you, you’re too sweet. Don’t go letting anyone take advantage of that.”

There was only so much of the embrace you could return when your arms were pinned to your sides by your unnaturally brawny kinda-grandma, leaving you to awkwardly prop your chin on her shoulder. “I know, Granny.”

That was a lesson you learned a long time ago.

You observed Suguru as he walked between the aisles while he grabbed some stuff, his head sticking out high above the shelves. When he emerged back out at the front, you were seated on the stool that basically belonged to you at this point. He carefully set his gathered spoils on the counter next to the cash register, then slipped past you to go behind the counter. 

His hand briefly rubbed your knee, something you noticed he did from time to time. While he wasn’t nearly as touchy as Satoru, who didn’t know the definition of personal space, he did often give you comforting nudges like that.

You noted with curiosity how familiar he seemed with ringing up his products by himself, working swiftly to tally them. Based on Granny’s lack of reaction when she returned with a mug, she trusted him to pay properly.

Smooth ceramic was placed within your palms, and you brought it up to guzzle down the life-saving liquid within. Damn, Suguru was right, you had no idea how thirsty you were. In terms of hydration, anyway. You were painfully aware of your other shortcomings.

“How’s that house of yours coming along?” She asked, resting a weathered hand on your upper thigh.

You hummed past a gulp, then answered. “Good, I think. We’re still washing the floors, but we’ve already cleaned up a lot. Satoru’s been dealing with the tatami in one of the rooms. It’s been stubborn as hell so far.”

“Try soaking it for a while beforehand,” she suggested. “And ventilate well. Goodness knows what’s been in there.”

Comforting. “We have been, don’t worry. Suguru managed to get all the windows open, which has been a huge relief.”

The elder leaned in close to you, ‘whispering’ in what could have only been a singular decibel quieter than normal talking. “See? Reliable, strong man. He’d take good care of you, I’ve known him since he was a child. Very dependable.”

Wha–

Was she trying to set you up with him!?

You glared at him when you heard him laughing under his breath, having heard her suggestion. It’d be more shocking if he didn’t.

Instead of coming to dispel her wild offer, he stuffed his goods away into a bag and walked towards the exit. You got up to follow after hastily finishing your drink and letting her take the empty mug from you, fully intending to give them both a piece of your mind the next chance you got. “Thank you for the water, Granny. We’ll head out, now.”

“I left some extra cash for you, Granny,” Suguru said as he held the door open for you. “From my mom, paying you back.”

She clicked her tongue. “I told her not to worry about it. Be safe, you two. Suguru, tell your mother to sleep with one eye open.”

“Will do,” he agreed too easily for such a casual threat, pushing you out into the humid summer air, and you were tempted to return to the sanctity of her air-conditioned shop. 

“You’re back! Thank God!” Utahime ushered you further away from your salvation, to which you whined and peered back at it forlornly. “Come with me to the shrine! I found more mythological history books recently, and you promised to tell me about Sne– sneguh– snah?”

“Snegurochka,” you corrected.

“Yeah! Her!”

A limb wrapped around your middle, drawing you back into a board chest. “No can do, Utahime!” Satoru shut her down cheerily, pressing his cheek against yours. “She already agreed to go on a date with me to the park.”

Utahime’s appalled expression was mirrored in your own. Her upper lip lifted in a snarl directed at your captor and…date, apparently.

“Like hell! I’m not letting you corrupt my friend!” She growled.

“Corrupt?” He pouted, playing the part of virtuous maiden. “Me? Why, I’d never.”

Suguru crossed his arms over his chest. “With us, Satoru. Don’t forget about me.”

“Hard to when your head is so big,” the other boy snapped in return.

You gawked at Geto, disbelieving. He was supposed to be your savior! “It is not a date! Don’t go making Iori-san and Shoko think the wrong things!”

“Welp, I gotta head back to the clinic,” Shoko said as her name was called, beginning to walk past. She patted your bicep on the way. “Good luck.”

“Shoko!” You cried out after her. “Come back here!”

She merely waved over her shoulder with her cigarette pinched between her fingers, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Utahime cupped your face in her hands, expression taut with seriousness. “Blink twice if they’re holding you prisoner.”

You heard ‘blink’ and went with it, batting your eyes as fast as you could.

“I knew it!” She bayed, tugging at Satoru’s arms – but she couldn’t free you. “Let go of her, you dog!”

He jerked his head towards the hill her shrine sat atop and gasped theatrically. “Oh, no! Is that a fire near your shrine?”

“What!?” She whirled around in horror, opening up the opportunity for him to tow you away, one arm staying around your waist while he led you into an unwilling sprint.

“Ohp, so sorry, guess I was wrong!” He yelled back, giggling at the rage painted all over her twisted expression.

“Satoru!” She shrieked, watching with grit teeth as Suguru jogged to catch up. “Yeah! Get him, Suguru–” Her jaw dropped when he grabbed your hand with his free one, making you run faster. “Oh, Heaven’s sake, not you, too!”

What the fuck! You didn’t agree to extra exercise today! And poor Utahime! You really hoped she wasn’t assuming things about your relationship with the men.

“Hey– guys! Slow down, damnit!” You heaved out. “Ugh! You two are awful!”

They simply laughed, hauling you right along to the park. Their long ass strides made this hell for you, and you were certain that if the park wasn’t so close, you would have eaten shit and died from the amount of times you stumbled. Their tight grips kept you from falling, and you partially wished they’d just let you collapse.

Pavement gave way to grass, the impact of your shoes becoming dulled. After running a few steps further, they finally gave you mercy and let go of you, slowing their gaits to a stop.

You slapped your hands against your knees, greedily sucking in air through the ache in your throat.

“You two–” pant, “really–” pant, “fucking–” pant, “suck.”

Satoru snickered and smoothed a hand over your messy tendrils, ignoring your death stare, finding it humorous in your current state. “Aww, come on! That was fun!”

“You’re gonna give Iori-san and Shoko the wrong idea,” you groaned, wiping wetness off your brow.

He feigned innocence. “What idea?”

Bastard.

“That we– tch,” you took in one more deep breath to catch your breath. “Nevermind. Shut up.”

“Don’t be like that!” He purred, right on your tail as you trudged to a nearby maple tree.

With the impromptu run, plus the season, the heat was finally getting to you. For all of Satoru’s bravado, you took solace in the fact that it also looked like the temperature was affecting him.  

You flopped down under a maple tree you picked out and loafed back on your palms, trying to survive the immense wave of evil weather that chose to sweep across the valley. You felt like you were turning into a prune, or a sponge that got tossed into an oven set on broil, despite all the sweating. You weren’t a stranger to high summer temperatures, but this was asininity.

Somehow, you survived the trip to the park, mourning the glacial morning dew that had long since evaporated, leaving the grass tepid at best. But you’d take anything, whatever it cost to keep you from roasting like a fine crème brûlée.

Satoru dropped down beside you, not doing much better than you, and Suguru slumped against the bark of the hulking plant, taking respite under it.

The shrill songs of cicadas took presence everywhere, chirping and pestering the females in hopes of copulating and passing along their live-underground-for-17-years genes.

You were immensely happy that you managed to clear out most of your lawn before the true harshness of the season kicked into full swing. You would not have lived through that, and doing it at night would have been too dangerous.

Work was very far from what you wanted to think about, though.

“Why the fuck is Japan so hot in summer,” you lamented, lethargically fanning yourself with a slack hand. It did zilch to help. “How do you deal with this?”

You squealed when something chilly touched your forehead and squinted up to see Suguru holding out a popsicle to you. You grabbed it without a second thought and ripped off the plastic covering, stuffing the crumpled ball back in his awaiting hand.

Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.”

You chomped off a bite of your snack with your molars, flinching at the slight sting, then relaxed as the chunk rested on your tongue. Bless Suguru and his mother hen tendencies. Towards you, anyway. He seemed to find humor in his best friend’s suffering up to a certain point.

The newly purchased, refrigerated, highly-sugary fizz he bought while at the store showed he did care at the end of the day.  

Summer in rural Japan smelled nice. That was about all the praise you were capable of giving this hellish landscape when you were getting steamed like a damn dumpling. Winter you could deal with; in winter, you could just add extra clothes or blankets or whatever for more warmth. You could only get so naked in summer before you were melting into a gross puddle.

“I wanna skin myself,” you slurred around your icy treat.

Suguru snorted. “That’s morbid.”

You bored into him blankly, examining his clothes – light-colored long sleeves and full-length, loose pants versus your tank top and flappy shorts. “How the hell are you dealing with this so well?”

He simply shrugged and gave you that closed-eye smile that always had your insides doing funky things they flat-out were not allowed to do. “I’ve always preferred summer.”

Hm. It added up. You always associated him with the sun – warm, inviting, making you want to lay somewhere soft and bask in his glow. But that feeling was warmth, not sweltering fire making your muscles shed off your very bones. 

“You’re a beast,” you mumbled, unsure if you were admiring or fearing him. “What ‘bout you, Toru?”

“Ehh?”

“Season.”

“What about it?”

You whined and placed your head on his. “Pay attention, idiot.”

“Well, excuse me, princess. I’m busy trying to not die of heatstroke over here,” he pinched your thigh, making you yelp.

You flicked the back of his hand in retaliation. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Oh,” he pried his limpid orbs open and eyed you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Those glistening, forget-me-not hues never failed to whisk your breath away. “Spring.”

“Good choice,” you approved.

Suguru bent down from the tree, angling his head to the side as he pointed a finger at himself. “Oh? Is my choice not good?”

“Ask me again when I don’t feel like I’m evaporating,” you muttered, taking another bite of your ice snack and plainting at the sharp pain radiating in your teeth for a few seconds. He merely laughed in the voice that had you feeling twice as flushed, instantly soothing the pain away.

“Don’t eat it like that if it just hurts you,” the silver-blond grumbled, his eyes already closed again as he fought to fend off the temperature mentally, if he couldn’t spare himself physically.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you huffed pettishly.

You partially closed your eyes and lazed back on your free palm, absentmindedly licking up the melted drips before they landed on your hand and coated it in residue. More than they already had, anyway.

A welcomed breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees surrounding you, a relieving balm against scalding skin that had all three of you sighing in alleviation. It rustled the yellow of the leaves above your head, creating a mesmerizing show of dancing golden fans, their edges dipped in crimson.

The droning chirps of cicadas, the tweets of birds calling to their brooding mates as they brought back food from a successful hunt, the fragrance of blooming flowers being pollinated, having their nectar gathered in preparation for being turned into honey – all of it surrounded you in a deep serenity you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Your head was optimistically empty, merely taking in the ambiance in fine detail. The lush, fluffy grass underhand tickled your wrist and the back of your hand, and the pleasant silence with your closest friends made you…happy. 

You’d been happy for a while now, but never stopped to notice it until this moment.

You found two idiots and two other kind-of-normal people to call friends, and you always ardently anticipated hanging out with them, rather than dreading it. You were pouty when they were busy, and ecstatic when you could all gather together.

Especially these two dumbasses, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. You spent most of your time with them, doing things that reminded you of the nostalgic highschool and college years you didn’t recall having.

You ruminated on how different your life would have been if you knew them from childhood; if you went to school with them, grew up as neighbors, mourned when Satoru left for his studies, celebrated when he returned. Would you have still ended up like this, a paranoid kite that was running out of thread to cut?

Or would you have been normal – or, at least, normal-adjacent? How would being raised in Japan differ from your home nation?

…

Home nation.

What was your home nation, again?

All that came to mind was here, now, with your best friends on either side of you. You knew where you were born, but that seemed so far away, now. You didn’t remember what the sky looked like over there – if you caught a glimpse of it at all in the first place.

Reflecting back left an odd emotion welling in your chest, like you were forgetting something. You wouldn’t say melancholy, nor yearning. It wasn’t nostalgia, either, seeing as you were semi-nomadic for a good portion of your life. You didn’t stay in one place long enough to form attachments to anyone or anything. 

When you tried to think about your childhood friends, you saw Geto, Gojo, Ieiri, and Iori. The boys were smaller, childlike, with chubbier cheeks and brattier attitudes, but your boys regardless. You remembered how Satoru was the class clown that frequently set off your teachers, while Suguru egged him on from the backlines, purposefully getting on his nerves. 

Shoko was there, too, watching with a shit-eating grin and not doing anything to help. Utahime at least tried.

And then there was you.

You didn’t really know if you were there or not. Just a spectator, possibly, but it didn’t seem like that. Not an empty, silent, emotionless observer, no. You couldn’t put your finger on it. What you were was there, on the tip of your tongue, you just didn’t know the word for it.

These memories weren’t real, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to imagine they were, especially when they felt like they were.

You could see yourself growing up with them, spending days lazing under the shade just like you were now, losing half the water in your body under the unforgiving summer sun and turning into a sort of sad excuse for a cucumber. You could remember the sharp sting of a wadded up piece of paper hitting your temple from across the table, your head shooting up so you could glare at jubilant Satoru that concluded throwing notes at you from two feet away was a better use of his time than just whispering or, gods forbid, studying.

You were certain he did it specifically because it pissed you off, and because he was unafraid of repercussions from the teacher. Discipline didn’t exist in his dictionary. Suguru would grab the wad from your other side to toss it right back and nail his best friend in the center of his forehead, leading to a paper ball fight that you were, unfortunately, directly in the middle of.

Shoko and Utahime, the lucky bitches, were smart to choose seats a few tables back, safely out of the firing and collateral range. 

You tried to join the two several times, yet the boys somehow always managed to sit you right back between them. You were their ‘mediator’, even though you tended to exhort them rather than soothe. You did calm them down, but only after you, Shoko, and Utahime had a good show. It was payback for all the times they dragged you into their messes.

Other memories filtered in bit by bit, sporadic sections popping up as they pleased; dying on the track field together, sparring against one another, learning vague concepts in a classroom that scarcely had anyone in it. You and Satoru would crack stupid jokes until you were both in stitches, Suguru would be there when your thoughts became too much to handle, Shoko was the one to mend you with a touch that felt both toasty and mellow at the same time.

There weren’t a lot of you, but you had each other, and that was all you needed. You had your friends by your side, and you were complete.

You were pulled from your woolgathering when you felt someone pluck your popsicle from your hand, your eyes flying open to gawp at Suguru in disbelief as he took a sizable bite out of it, then returned it innocently, as if he hadn’t just robbed you blind.

“Hey!” You cried out. “Thief! That was mine! You said you were fine in summer!”

“I said I prefer summer, not that I’m immune to it,” he corrected you, licking off a spot of juice from the corner of his mouth. Such a simple action from him legally wasn’t allowed to be that devastatingly attractive, yet here he was, casually breaking the law and sending you into disarray. “Besides, I paid for it.”

“Unfair,” you pouted, staring down at your now half-gone heatstroke preventer. “You can’t just give me something, then take it back.”

He chuckled and knelt beside you. “Relax, I’ll buy you another one.”

You instantly perked up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Will you buy one for me, too, Suguwu?” Satoru flapped his long eyelashes and stuck out his lower lip.

“No.”

“What!?” He sprung upright. “Now that’s unfair! It’s favoritism!”

Suguru snorted and dropped the bag between your knee and Satoru’s, which the latter took to like a raccoon to a dumpster. He dug around inside the plastic until he located his drink and held it up like Arthur did with Excalibur.

Only Gojo could down this amount of sugar in a single day and not suffer the consequences, you mused, watching him greedily gulp at the borderline dessert. Maybe there was some merit to his body being godly, after all.

“Hey,” Gojo called out after chugging a solid 2/3rds of the soda. “What are those, uhhhh…maple syrup snow candies called?”

“I think they're just called maple syrup snow candies,” you filled in.

“Maple candy, or maple taffy,” Suguru enlightened you. “Popular treat in winter in Canada.”

Satoru gave a thumbs-up in appreciation. “Yeah, those. I want one of those.”

You lamented. “It’s the middle of summer.”

“But they sound so cold and good. Mm…I can taste it already. I just know they'd save me from this god awful heat. Thanks for the soda, by the way, Suguru.”

Geto hummed in acknowledgement.

An idea flittered into your mind and you sat ramrod straight, clapping your hands together and grabbing their attention. Satoru grunted, slipping partially off you. “Let’s go to the river!”

“Hm,” Suguru considered it. “Not a bad idea, might help us cool down.”

You celebrated at obtaining his approval and passed the rest of your popsicle to Satoru, who devoured it in a single chomp.

A large hand was offered to you in way of assistance and you grabbed it, getting pulled easily with a short ‘hup’ from your aide. He inspected your form for a moment, then plucked a fallen leaf from the top of your head, twisting it between his digits. When a gale lifted, he released it, letting the unseen hands of the sky carry it away.

Satoru was up on his feet, too, the plastic bag in his hand crinkling from the shift in position. “Let’s go!”

He took the lead, speed-walking through the park to reach the shallow slope that allowed easy access to the river. For someone who was about as dead as you minutes ago, he obtained an infectiously energetic zest out of nowhere. Motivation is a hell of a drug.

You caught up to him and skipped forward, unburdened by needing to carry anything like the pair. Already able to feel the refreshing bite of the water as it came into view, you picked up the pace, racing towards the cure to your ails.

You tore off your tank top in the process and threw it somewhere carelessly, stumbling out of your sandals as you neared upon the shoreline of the river. Leaving them behind on a boulder, you skidded down the bank to the icy waters and jumped in, dressed in your shorts and sports bra.

A shrill cry and jubilant hoot echoed in the valley as goosebumps coated your skin, prickling the hair on your arms and nape. Frigid liquid surrounded you, abruptly replacing torrid solstice with frozen tundra. 

“Fuck, cold!”

Satoru was rolling up his pant legs, his own button-up having been disposed of like your top. Just as eager to experience the same liberation you did, he toed off his shoes and ripped off his socks, then he was kicking up water next to you as he joined you. The crystalline liquid came to about mid-thigh for him, but that didn’t stop you being able to see all the hairs on his body stand on end all at once.

“Cold!” He echoed you.

You laughed, running your wet hands through your hair. “That’s what I’m saying!”

Not wasting a second, he threw a handful of water onto you, making you twist your body to avoid the splash. You shrieked from the pellets of frost raining down on you, his icy-toned orbs brimming with mirth at your reaction.

Suguru was still on the shore, more composed and patient than either you or his best friend. He went about methodically locating both your and Satoru’s shirts, setting them down on the ground beside the bag and his backpack, then focused on his own clothes. 

He slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and legs of his pants, and stepped into the river.

Just to get grabbed and pulled further in by Satoru before he could get acclimated to the pressure of the running stream.

He took in a shallow breath, bounding forward to keep his balance and not fall splat into the rapid. “Satoru!”

“Come on!” Lanky fingers pushed back ivory hair. “Relax a bit, would ya?”

Chestnut eyes narrowed. “There’s a difference between relaxing and getting waterboarded.” 

Gojo huffed. “Yeah? How would you know what getting waterboarded feels like?”

“How many times have you nearly drowned me in your hot spring?”

“Doesn’t count.”

“It does count!”

The two were distracted, arguing about drowning technicalities, which meant they weren’t paying attention to you.

Perfect.

You sank down into the flowing water, shivering from the hibernal wet as it surrounded you. Once you were absolutely certain they had no idea what you were up to, you made your move.

Crawling along the riverbed, you let the flow guide you, using the sound of water breaking to further creep up on your companions.

You could hear the Jaws theme slowly ramping up in your mind, each beat growing louder as you neared. Trembles wracked your body, caused by a mesh of the nippy waters and budding adrenaline.

A little further, you were too far…still too far…almost…

“Rrah!” You jumped out the moment you were within range of your target, unleashing your fiercest battle roar as you threw yourself onto Satoru’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

The man choked in surprise, and based on the way he promptly lost balance and dropped like a rock into the waters with a heady splash, you could proudly say you caught him off guard. You both surfaced with deep gasps of breath, and you were on top of him as soon as he sat up.

Using your position of straddling his thighs to your advantage, you skipped past the torture and went straight for the kill.

Your fingers grabbed his sides and started lightly scratching at them. 

Satoru hiccuped and howled, writhing and trying to shove you off him as you attacked him with endless tickles. “Wait! S-Stop, no! That tickles!”

“Give up your throne, Gojo Satoru!” You demanded, doubling down on the siege on his crown. “Name me king, or I will never stop!”

He easily turned into a blubbering mess despite his attempts to stay stoic and strong. “N-No way! Oh, god– stop! Please!”

“Not until you hand me your crown!”

“Never! I’ll–” you pinched his hip and he yowled. “Okay! Fuck, fine, it’s yours, just spare me! Please!”

“Yes!” You released him at long last and threw your arms in the air in victory. “I’m the king of this valley! Haha, suck it!”

You climbed off Satoru as he took deep breaths to calm himself, turning your focus on Suguru, who was losing his shit on the shoreline. Wheezes slipped past his lips, the boy barely getting a chance to inhale before he was cackling all over again.

Standing with your legs shoulder-width apart and one fist on your hip, you pointed at Geto authoritatively. “You! Surrender to me now or face the punishment of one thousand tickles for defying the king! 

“Oh, god,” he heaved, arms clutching his ribs to keep himself together. Bunny lines formed on the bridge of his nose, brows pinched tight, tears springing to the corners of his amber eyes. “I can’t, the threat of tickles is too much. I surrender, I surrender!”

“The king is triumphant! All hail the king!” You thundered, throwing your head back to unleash a demonic chortle that soon turned into real laughter. “Mark my words, on this da–”

Powerful hands pushed against your side, and you went crashing unceremoniously into the river.

Poor Suguru was wiping away more tears at the point of you reemerging, flushed red from head to toe from the exertion.

“This is a coup!” Satoru announced. “I’m taking back the crown!”

“Wh– no fair!” You objected, wiping your face free of water. “I won that fair and square!”

He beamed down at you, summer skies reflected in his spring eyes. “Come and get it, then!”

An all-out war was waged then between you and Satoru, a motley of screams, hollers, and demands getting thrown back and forth at one another. The activity and sweltering sun kept your blood thermal within the oasis of the numbing waterway.

This pearl of time belonged to the three of you and the three of you alone. The seconds slowed infinitely, and though they never came to a true stop, they lasted longer than the birth, life, and death of a distant star. This, to you, was paradise. Your skin was frosty, but your heart was blooming as you skylarked and frisked with people you’d met only a short time ago, but treated like you’d known one another all your lives.

The limits of your joy seemed to shatter with each passing day, expanding more than you ever thought possible. Hell, you never so much as considered that experiencing exultation to this degree was possible in and of itself, but you basked in it all the same.

As long as it lasted, you would savor it.

The sun was beginning its descent when your trio chose to end your excursion, feeling sufficiently chilled.

“Brr,” you quivered as you made your way out, squeezing water out of your hair. “My fingers are like icicles.”

“Come on, ladybug,” Suguru offered you his hand, which you took gratefully, allowing him to guide you out of the river. “That’s enough for today, you’ll catch a cold. Let’s go get you warmed up.”

You moaned in complaint at the thought of having to walk all the way back home. You really should have considered it before deciding to take a dip. Curse your spontaneity. “I forgot, Satoru’s house is on that damn mountain.”

“We’re going to my place,” he corrected nonchalantly, as if it’d been long decided. “It’s closer, and my folks are out for the weekend.”

A hand towel was dropped on your face by Satoru, probably one Suguru brought with him when packing his backpack earlier in the day. 

“Dry off, princess,” Satoru instructed you as he crouched down by Geto’s backpack, popping open a bottle of water to knock back. He tossed a second one towards the noiret, who caught it with ease.

He waited for you to finish rubbing as much water off your head as you could before he twisted the top of the bottle off and handed it to you with a pointed look. A veiled threat to drink before I make you.

Well, jokes on him, you actually did want to drink water. 

You took it from him and gulped down half the fluid inside it without hesitation. By some boon, you had the self control to stop before you got sick, and returned the water with a thank-you. Suguru took it upon himself to finish the rest of it.

Satoru snatched the towel from you, replacing it with your tank top (also placed on your head). You blew him a raspberry and tugged it on, cringing at the feeling of your dry (sorta) clothing getting caught on your damp skin. Maybe you should have considered bringing a towel. You would have, if you’d known beforehand that you’d be making a stop at the river.

You hooked your fingers into the back straps of your sandals when they were handed to you, the other two following suit. The village was kept clean, so none of you were worried about stepping on anything concerning, especially since Suguru’s house was right nearby.

“Ready to go?” He asked you, and you nodded.

His palm had returned to its normal calidity, something you noticed as he helped you up the slope. The boy’s body ran like a damn furnace, even after playing in the stream for a couple hours with you. Granted, he somehow managed to keep himself dry above the knees, but regardless.

All three of you were tired out, and you were looking forward to unwinding for the evening. The two boys didn’t bicker much, some light teasing in quieter tones, and – as promised – the trip to Geto’s home was short. You were standing within the genkan of his house in no time, waiting patiently while he disappeared further in to grab a couple towels.

His house resembled the buildings around the middle of town, sitting on the side of the river your house did. There was a stretch of land behind it, but you didn’t get a chance to see much, having been ushered into the cozy abode. 

Being a bit nosy, you peeked around. There was a staircase leading up that hugged the wall of a turn to your left, leaving only the bottom few steps visible to you. The hallway straight ahead was clean and minimalist, likely leading to a dining room, if you had to guess. 

Each home had its own unique smell, and his smelled of spices and something faintly earthy, like fresh soil.

“Here we go,” Suguru announced his return, rounding the corner with a few towels in tow. He tossed one down at your feet above the genkan, motioning for you to step onto it. Obeying, you moved out of the pit, allowing him to layer a second towel around you before tossing the last one to Satoru.

“You can shower first,” he said to you.

You grabbed at the towel, pressing it into your hips and thighs to absorb the water that remained in your soaked bottoms. “Are you sure I can go first?”

He nodded. “You can take a bath, too, if you want.”

“Just a shower is fine, I think. I don’t want to take too long, since you two need to shower, too.”

Satoru sidled up to you, his smug ass grin coming into view as he hovered his chin over your shoulder. “Or, I could shower with you.”

Frankly, you were too drained to let that statement fluster you.

Suguru placed the tip of his index between Satoru’s brows and pushed his head away. “Leave her be, creep. Dry your legs, dude, you’re getting water everywhere.”

“You’re no fun,” the towhead pouted, but retreated anyway.

“Come on,” Geto settled his hand on your nape, guiding you inside. “Don’t be shy, the walls don’t bite.”

You snorted. “New fear unlocked.”

He snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “Relax, I won’t let any walls bite you.”

He took you around the bend, past the stairs, which opened up directly to the living room. While following a more traditional structural style, the interior was comfortably modern. A plush, gray couch was pushed against the wall, with side tables on either end. You immediately noticed that the place was littered with a bunch of plants. Some hung from the ceiling, a few were situated on floating shelves, and a potted shrub was situated near the flatscreen opposite to the couch.

You gawked around shamelessly with parted lips, intrigued by the domesticity of his home. “Your place is so nice, Suguru.”

He chuffed beside you. “Don't go making fun of me while you're my guest, now, angel.”

“I'm not!” You gasped, affronted. “I swear! I like it. Lots of plants.”

“My mom’s an avid plant parent,” he explained.

You hummed in appreciation. “It’s homely.”

He exhaled through his nose and pressed his thumb and first finger into your trapezius. “Thank you. Go shower; second door to your left down the hall. I'll lay out some clean clothes for you in a little bit.”

He pointed towards an open sliding door on the other side of the shrub, bumping you forward. You needed no further prompting, trotting off in the direction he showed.

Thankfully, you didn’t get lost on the way, his instructions easy to follow. Finding the bathroom, you went into it and closed the door. Your fingers hesitated over the lock on the knob, debating. He said he’d bring clothing, but didn’t mention where he’d put it…

You chose to leave it unlocked and hurriedly got to work shedding your drenched clothes. Placing the towel down on the sink counter, you unabashedly peeped the details of the bathroom while you dropped the pieces of your outfit onto the towel.

Just like the rest of his place, the bathroom was well taken care of, also adorned with a few plants, albeit smaller and out of the way. He wasn’t kidding when he said his mom liked plants.

The ceiling light gave off an inviting glow, subconsciously helping you relax. Naked, you fiddled around with the shower knobs until you got hot water to blast out. You squeaked in surprise, adjusted the temp to be your desired level, and hopped right in.

It felt like years of stress were dissolving right off you. His shower might not have been high-techy and super modern like the one you used back at Satoru’s, but the familiarity in its style brought you a kind of comfort you didn’t know you were missing. You melted into the rising steam, sighing deeply and simply doing nothing for a minute to unwind.

It was a good day, the chaos with Granny, Shoko, and Utahime included. You’d have to reassure those two later that Satoru and Suguru were just teasing. Well, Utahime. For Shoko, you’d probably have to convince her, and you didn’t have faith you’d succeed.

You glanced around, spotting a bottle of body wash that looked like it belonged to Suguru on an inset tile shelf. You grabbed it, hoping he wouldn’t mind you using it.

Reading over the label, you admired his choice in soap: lavender and green tea, both for scent and the benefits they provided. 

You couldn’t help the giddy little burst of vim you got knowing you were about to smell like him, too.

You squeezed some onto your palm and lathered it between your hands, then started rubbing it onto your body. The day’s strain, dirt, grime, and weariness lifted with it, washing off in thin and slow waves of white streaks down your figure. You felt lighter and lighter with each pass over your chest, waist, hips, and thighs. 

Tension thawed from your shoulders as you scrubbed your hands along them, muscles loosening with each bit of cleanliness you gained. It felt nice. Really nice, a calm time away to yourself to let go.

His shampoo also smelled like green tea, and you were occupied with massaging it into your hair when there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You called out.

The door cracked open. “Just me,” Suguru responded. “Brought some clothes for you. I’ll leave them on the counter.”

“Oh, thank you!” What’d you do to deserve a friend like him?

There were some rustling noises as he spoke. “It’s no problem, I’m not gonna leave you hanging without something to change into. Do you mind if I take your clothes to toss in the wash?”

“That’s fine,” you permitted. “I’ll be out soon.”

“Don’t worry about it, take your time,” he said, and then the door was closed once more.

Even if he told you to, you still didn’t want to hog the shower to yourself, knowing that Satoru got just as river-bathed as you did, and he was wearing pants to boot.

You rinsed off the shampoo and followed it up with the matching conditioner, using your fingers to delicately comb out any tangles. Though they weren’t your own products, they felt amazing, making your tresses silky smooth. You would have to ask him where he got his products.

You were out as soon as you were done washing your hair. You cocooned yourself in the clean, fluffy towel he also provided, loving the texture. It was soft yet absorbent, coaxing away any droplets that clung to your curves and planes. 

You wanted to steal it.

But, reluctant as you might have been, you refrained. You used it to dry your hair some, and folded it to set aside after you were sufficiently devoid of liquid. Checking the clothes Suguru provided you, you noted he gave you a pair of sweats with a drawstring, allowing you to adjust the waistline as needed. Ever the observant mother hen, you were grateful for his foresight.

You slipped on the t-shirt first, pleased by the material as it came to rest against your freshly washed skin. It was noticeably oversized, but in a sleepy-Sunday sort of way, big enough to be cute and snuggly.

The sweats were huge on you by comparison, what with his absurdly long limbs. You tugged the drawstring to your preferred tightness, then rolled up the legs until they were out of the way and you wouldn’t trip over them.

All dressed, you opened the door with your used towel in hand and walked out to find Suguru waiting for you, leaning against the wall beside the room. He smiled warmly at you and pushed himself off his support, holding out his hand to take the towel from you. 

A quick sweep over your form showed he was appraising your outfit with an approving eye, pride undisguised. “That shirt looks good on you.”

You were probably imagining the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

“Ehehe,” you giggled fiendishly, channeling your inner menace as you lightly tugged at the fabric of the top. “Mine, now.”

His expression softened into a smile that had little cupid wings fluttering on your back, a smile you only ever saw him give you. “All yours, angel. You can go sit down in the living room, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” you nodded and followed his instructions, making your way back to the flora-infested room.

Settling down on the couch, you exhaled and closed your eyes. You heard the shower start up again before it became muffled by the door, presumably because of Satoru. You weren’t left waiting long, the five or so minutes you were alone flying by. The padding of feet signaled you to Suguru’s return, your eyes prying open halfway to peer languidly at him.

“Here,” he jutted his chin towards you. “Sit on the floor, I’ll do your hair.”

Finding no reason to object, you stood and let him take your place on the cushion before plopping yourself down between his legs. He tilted your head forward, then got to work. His touch was ever so gentle, fingers diligent in their movements as he treated your hair with a knowingness you didn’t expect him to have. 

Amicable silence filled the space around you, just the shifting of clothes and the slick sound of leave-in as he spread it evenly through your tresses. It gave your mind the freedom to drift away undisturbed.

As he was carefully drying and styling your hair, you thought about how Suguru often reminded you of a cat, considering his tendency to groom you. Or a bird, like a crow or a raven, that liked to preen you.

If you were all some sort of animal hybrids, you could easily imagine him being either some sort of corvid, a vulpine, or a big cat. A black leopard, to be specific.

If Satoru was a big cat, he would be a snow leopard. You refused to take any other suggestions. The tall freak was touchy, cuddly, and so proficient in hiding himself within an environment that did not suit him that he could be breathing down your neck and you'd be none the wiser.

The more you thought about it, the more you could picture them as their respective animals. Satoru would undoubtedly sunbathe with his belly up, paws curled, tail flicking side to side happily, unafraid of showing his biggest weakness. 

You compared and contrasted between your options for him. He did like to give you small, shiny things, and you'd never refuse because oooh, shiny! His hair reminded you of crow feathers when it caught the light from the sun. It bore a faint iridescence, a chrome that shifted between emerald and the time just between midnight and dawn, in the earliest hours of the morning where stars still sparkled brilliantly. You could picture him preening his feathers, plucking out the pins and fluffing the downy fuzz. 

Though black leopard might have suited him better. He tended to rub his cheek against yours or the top of your head whenever you embraced. You could easily picture him loafing under the shade, licking his paw to smooth out his fur and ensure it matched the rest of his satiny complexion. He had the personality of a laid back, lazy feline that could turn from a sweet teeny baby kitten into a merciless predator in the blink of an eye. 

You'd seen the way he behaved when he wanted something – the narrowing of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the concentration in his brow. 

It made a tremor flit up your body, especially when he set his sights on you like that. He was capable of being a silent stalker, an expert in scaring the ever living shit out of you any chance he got, just like Satoru.

That soursop boy was surely the type to roll over and let others do things for him. Feed him, rub his belly, comb through his fur. You hadn’t seen him when he was prowling, searching for a meal to hunt down, but sometimes you got a flicker of something similar to it in his eyes. Like a passing rumination, where he considered if it was worth exhausting energy to chase down his prey. 

…Could the reason you’d had yet to witness his hunt be because of his ability to camouflage? Because he didn’t want you to see?

The concept gave you chills.

You suppressed your reaction at the introspection, remembering that Suguru was behind you, gently drying your hair with tepid air and tender touches. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by giving him the impression that he was pleasuring you.

Which he undeniably was, but he didn't need to know about the prickles and tingles traveling all the way from your crown to your tailbone.

You continued your train of thought.

Satoru the Snow Leopard would spend his days grooming you endlessly, licking at your fur until it stuck out in all kinds of wild angles. After that, Suguru would mend the spiky hairs until you were glossy and sleek like him.

What did that make you in comparison to them?

Standing side by side with them, it was clear you were prey – unless you were a black-footed cat. But given your dynamic and how the two of them liked to coddle you, you doubted you'd resemble any kind of predator.

If you had to be prey, then what? A doe, or gazelle? 

No, those were unfortunately too majestic, and you weren't nearly as graceful as those lovely creatures. Your habit of tripping over your own feet proved case enough.

Okay, so if you weren't either of those…you supposed you could still fit into the cervidae family. Pudu deer was a possibility. 

You tried to imagine it, but sadly, you couldn't put yourself into deer hooves.

Were birds prey? Some of them had to be, like doves, right? 

If you were a bird, then Suguru had to be, too. You only trusted him to primp and help you maintain your feathers. Satoru would just chomp on them.

Alright, so no-go on the birds, then. Field mouse?

No, too small. You were short, but not that short. They’d also likely accidentally swallow you whole if they tried to mend a stray whisker.

Fennec fox? 

You contemplated it, then mentally shook your head. You weren't high-pitched and energetic enough to qualify for that. Satoru would beg to differ, and you’d let him, because it’d be funny. Also, they were predators, anyway.

A brief memory flashed in your mind of something Satoru said, back when you first met Suguru.

‘I don't know,’ he hummed in deliberation. ‘I prefer bunny. Or mochi.’

Bunny.

Bunny…

A rabbit with floppy ears and an upturned tail. Fuzzy and velvety, obviously small and squishy, as much as you grimaced at those choice words of his.

Flumped right between either of their front paws, or stuffed in the middle of their bodies when they curled up to nap. Or chilling on one of their backs, your little paws on their head to watch the world from an angle you could never see on your own.

Bunny fit perfectly, a glove with no rips in the stitch.

You three together would consist of a snow leopard, a black leopard, and a small rabbit that they decided to keep as a pet and not dinner. For whatever reason that could be. Fish are friends, not food.

You had no idea why you chose to start daydreaming about being animorphs. Imagining being squished by their hulking forms in the afternoon rays, or being wrapped up in their fluffy tails for warmth on autumn nights. They were fun images to entertain.

“You seem to be quite deep in thought,” Suguru's breath brushed against the shell of your ear, spooking you. You hadn't even noticed he was finished. “Care to let me in?”

“Eep!” You squeaked, rotating partially to give him the stink eye for doing the thing he and Satoru always did. No way were you going to let him in on your weird brain doing weird brain things. “It's nothing important, just fantasizing a bit. Zoned out.”

Ohp. 

And there was that hungry gleam in his eye, the shimmer in his black tea hues. You hit the nail on the head with the black leopard comparison.

“Fantasizing about what?” He purred. Cat. “About me?” 

Your lashes fluttered and you whipped your head back in the other direction, tucking your newly dry and enviously soft hair behind your ears. “N-No?”

Man.

You were such a bad liar.

He, merciful god that he is, elected to only tease you and not try to dive into the unreasonably bizarre pool of thoughts that swirled and whirled in your consciousness like the godsforsaken mess you were. 

Nor ask about why most of them revolved around those two boys. Bless him, your hero. Satoru would have tormented you until you gave in out of desperation, just to make him shut up. Then, he'd tease you about those ideas for the rest of your days. Probably double down on the bunny related nicknames, poke right above your tailbone and make jokes about how he should make you wear a pair of bunny ears and a tail. And then make the tail option extremely not family friendly.

Heaven’s mercy spare you if you give him any more ideas beyond that. Like a skimpy outfit that barely covered your tits and had a crotch narrow enough to give you a wedgie-induced friction burn where friction burns did not belong and would not wish on your worst enemy.

Well, no, maybe you would, but that's besides the point.

You chuffed out your nose and let your head fall back against the cushion between Geto's legs. His fingers found their way back to your scalp, massaging and lightly scratching at it until you were pushing into his hands like a needy kitten.

“Comfortable?” He asked with an amused lilt in his voice, to which you chirped merrily in answer.

You really were. Limbs like jelly, squeaky clean, tired out after playing in the river with them. You felt good, truly and genuinely good.

Aversion to permanent routine or not, you’d welcome every day with open arms if they were like this. Peaceful contentment after a long stretch of sunlit hours, able to let loose and uncoil any strain in your body, it all sounded so…

Happy.

You were okay with being happy like this.

You were okay with forgetting your past and what drove you here in the first place. You didn’t mind having your eyes shift shut, lashes sweeping over the highs of your cheekbones. You were alright with one of your best friends playing idly with your hair, and you were fine with listening to him hum some melody to himself as he did so.

It was okay.

This was okay.

You were okay.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

taglist: @kimi01985

[kairiscorner]

﹒◠✩⊹﹒ the jujutsu high baseball team (the second years).

🍥 author's note: now idk shit about baseball (it's been years since i watched ace of the diamond on team yey) but... hope this was ok enough :')

number 2: pitcher, maki zenin.

maki is one of the strongest pitchers jujutsu tech has ever seen, she's got strong arms and great stability in her stance; and most of the time, her pitches are barely hit by the batter.

she's a batter's worst nightmare, because not only is she a genius in knowing how to pitch at just the right time, angle, and force–she's got a killer smile and glare that can shatter the batter's confidence and intimidate the catcher, kind of rattling them.

maki doesn't brag her wins, she thinks she can do better with each one she pitches. though if someone were to belittle her, make her feel like she doesn't belong on the field, she'd prove them wrong and shut them up by showing them her unrestrained pitches, taking them out of the game before they could even really play.

number 3: catcher, toge inumaki.

inumaki is a wonderful catcher, he doesn't speak much externally, but internally, his mind is running with thoughts while they're playing.

he likes to bet with himself whether or not the batter will hit the ball, it gives him a little bit of excitement as to who's great enough to hit a home run.

inumaki is very agile, he catches most of the pitches thrown his way. when he's the catcher, it kind of makes the players a little nervous, because there's no getting around the toge inumaki–but it confuses him sometimes why some freshmen on the opposing teams shudder at the sight of him catch a ball that looked like it'd land far.

number 4: batter, yuta okkotsu.

now yuuta started off as a klutz. he used to be a complete newbie at baseball, only being familiar with the rules and positions, but not really having any experience with the game.

he used to miss a lot and was a bench warmer for a few months, but he trained his hardest and eventually got better after training with the others and gojo, a seasoned batter himself for jujutsu tech.

it was actually yuuta's perseverance at training, his focus, and his strength that got him and their team last year a spot in the nationals; maki and inumaki have never seen anyone grow and develop so quickly in the sport they were so passionate about before, and they admired him greatly for it.

[viisoul]

★ ﹒ SHOOT YOUR SHOT!

star player satoru gojo can’t get enough of you, so he brings you to the locker room.

cw : PUBLIC SEX

basketball player gojo! who lets you wear his jersey on top of the hoodie you wore, which just so happened to be his as well.

basketball player gojo! who lets you give him plenty of good luck kisses before he's out on the court.

basketball player gojo! who always glances at you, watching as you cheered him on in the crowd.

basketball player gojo! who dedicates every shot to you, never failing to miss one.

basketball player gojo! who looks so sexy with every move he makes, limbs gracefully moving swiftly and smoothly with that handsome, glistening face with beads of sweat dripping down his pale skin.

basketball player gojo! who buys you a necklace with his jersey number on it, watching as it dangled between your tits with every thrust he made inside of you.

basketball player gojo! who brings you into the locker rooms for a quickie, the thrill of getting caught causing his adrenaline to rush even more...

your skirt was dropped to your ankles along with your soaked pink pair of panties, hands grasping at the table with the lineup and other important papers the coaches needed. however, half of it had already been knocked to the ground from gojo's rough propulsions.

his large hand was covering your mouth to muffle those pretty little sounds coming from your throat, your eyes rolling back as a rhythmic wet clapping sound resonated throughout the locker room.

his thick, lengthy cock was pushing against the sweet spot inside of you, stretching you out so good. your nails were scratching at the surface of the table, which just so happened to have the colors of his jersey on them.

"mmph—, g-gojo, fuckkk...!" you whined, legs trembling as you struggled to stand up straight.

there was a grin on his lips, one showing his great amusement at your reactions. his other hand was toying around with your puffy little clit, sending stimulation through your body and weakening your limbs

"hey now, beautiful. quiet down. don't want anyone hearing ya. they might catch me stuffing you full... you like that? you like the thought of that? want someone to see me fucking this pretty pussy, huh?"

"yes, please, satoruuuu... can't hold it, g'na cum, baby... fuck," your response was mindless, just babbling out anything to go along with what he was telling you.

"that right? c'mon, cum for me, then... give it to me."

there was a drawled call of his name, your head leaning down as your lips pushed against his palm a bit, muffling your cry as he felt a tight squeeze around his cock, a grunt slipping from his lips.

"shit... s'like you're tryna suck the cum outta me..." he rasped.

he removed his hand from between your legs, sucking off your juices before placing it on your ass. he then slowly pulled out, a dissatisfied moan coming from his throat because he had to pull out. he pushed his tip up against your pussy, cumming in thick spurts and watching as it coated you.

"so fuckin' sexy..." he groaned.

he rubbed it against your cunt a bit to ease his adrenaline, taking deep breaths before finally stopping.

he pulled his boxers and pants up, bending down to pick up your panties and skirt and fix it up to make you look like you hadn't just gotten dicked down before your boyfriend’s game.

you turned around, arms wrapping around him.

"love you, 'toru..."

"i love—."

"satoru!" the stern voice of a man along with the locker room door bursting open had startled both of you. "the hell're you doin?! and why's it so hot in here?!"

"i, uh—..."

"you fuckin' in my locker room?!"

"n-no sir!"

"let me find out, satoru! get your ass on the court, games about to start!"

gojo couldn't help but smile, forcing out an apology. "...sorry, coach."

asked between baseball or basketball player gojo…

[chiarrara]

(part two of this ask from @distorzija-misli6 <3)

Basketball AU: I don't know as much about Basketball as I do about Baseball, so this is a good chance for me to think through positions & what each character's role on the court would be! (and decide if I want to make them taller than their canon heights)

Nobara: I talked about how Nobara likes to drive to the basket and draw (or make) fouls a lot. She's also got a good midrange shot and can make three pointers. She can play anywhere on the court, she's a really versatile player, and she always goes hard. She's also a huge shit talker. She has a reputation for elbowing, pushing, and doing anything to get the ball. Basically, the way she sees it, everyone on the other team is an enemy and she doesn't care what happens to them as long as she gets the basket & her team gets the win. She's not super sappy and motivational with her teammates, she's more into tough love. But she's also super loyal and trusts her teammates fully. I maintain she'd be a sixth man off the bench who can easily sub in for a shooting guard or a forward. (also I might bump her up to be at least 5'5" or 5'7" girly is so short)

Maki: She's a team leader. Cool headed, very skilled, hard worker--she practices more than anyone. She's great at taking charge on the court & directing plays. She's an amazing ball handler, she can dribble the ball up the court, make tough passes, get out of traps, and throw the ball in, all without making a turnover (losing the ball and giving it up to the other team). She has a natural commanding presence and her teammates look up to her and follow her lead. She is absolutely a tough love girly, though. She will tell you exactly what you suck at and need to improve, and you're not gonna get a lot of praise from her. But that just means it means even more when you do get it. Ya girl is a point guard with a good shooting arm and amazing court sense and game knowledge. (I might bump her up to 5'9" or 5'11" just to keep her height on Nobara)

Megumi: Since Megumi is also really strategic I think he started out as a point guard on the men's team, but when the teams merge, he and Maki have to compete for the spot. He kind of wants to just give it to her, but she absolutely won't let him so they play for it. Unfortunately, when it comes down to it, he just isn't as driven, is too unselfish with the ball, doesn't go all out and loses (queue Gojo-Megumi heart to heart). After that, I think he transitions to more of a shooting guard/small forward position. He's a defensive focused player, he gets near the basket to get rebounds, he creates opportunities on offense by running plays that confuse the defense, he blocks players on the other team to create scoring opportunities for his shooters. He can score from anywhere on the court, but he often passes the ball when he should be taking a wide open shot. Room for improvement. (we'll make him 6'1"-6'2"?)

Yuuji: He's a tough player, strong and athletic, but he's not fouling on purpose like Nobara does. He plays under the basket a lot, he's a strong shooter. He's got all kinds of layups, jump shots, and the occasional three. Any opportunity to dunk he's taking it. Any opportunity to block the other teams shot, he's taking it. He's extremely coachable, if you tell him to jump, he literally asks how high. Great free throw shooter because he can just turn off crowd noise & distraction and focus in. He's the notorious D1 athlete in a post game interview. His answer to everything is "we left it all on the court" or "we gave it 110%". One time he broke his nose colliding with a guy and had to wear one of those bizzare looking face guards for like a month after. (6'0" he's gotta be shorter than Megumi, sorry)

Yuuta & Toge: They're both shooting guards, knocking down three pointers. Yuuta tends to defend more under the basket because of his height where Toge is out on the perimeter. Toge's a great ball handler and can make quick passes and weave around the defense. Yuuta's great at getting in position, side-stepping, shot faking, at shooting from mid-court. They're both supportive teammates and are great cheerleaders from the bench. (Yuuta is 6'4" and Toge is only 5'10" on a good day)

Panda: He's the tallest, the biggest, and the strongest. He's posted up under the basket making layups, blocking shots, getting rebounds, and boxing dudes out so they have to take bad shots. He can go absolute beast mode on a counter attack and jump over a dude to get a slam dunk. He's the biggest morale-booster & the heart of the team. (he's still 6'7")

Shoko: She was the head coach of the women's team and when they merged, she got the position to coach the coed team. She's decisive, outwardly unemotional, and extremely effective. She doesn't pump the team up with big speeches, she's much more subtle, but she develops the relationships in practice and throughout the season so when it comes to a make or break moment, her team believes her when she says, "Well, I know you can win, so are you going to?

[neonscandal]

sukuna is a character that I'm most curious to know his story because he is very cold and calculating, he doesn't get attached to anyone and he is very proud, he said something interesting that someone he knew looked like Yuji, did he have a brother who It has the resemblance of Yuji or a friend. Why does he hate love so much, did he like someone in the past or was he not loved? I'm looking forward to his story. What do you think, thanks for his interactions with us on tumblr.

Thanks for reaching out with your question(s), anon! In my last post, I kind of touched on Gege Akutami's subtle exposition. If you've noticed, Gojo tends to make a lot of references to political figures, poets, athletes, etc. and Akutami doesn't provide a lot in the way of context clues for their importance in Gojo's blatherings, at least for, perhaps, Western audiences. Even Kugisaki and Itadori going on about baseball players is out of my purview of understanding so it's no surprise to realize that Ryomen Sukuna potentially has a cultural significance that we're unaware of.

The video below touches not only on his lore as Ryomen Sukuna but also the "calamity" surrounding the treatment of conjoined twins who were effectively tortured inhumanely by a circus owning zealot that may inform his appearance. 👇🏾

Regarding your hypothesis, the video above kind of makes an interesting supposition about the possibility of twins to your point about a brother. Especially since Ryomen may translate to "two-faced" which I feel like does not bode well for Yuji when we consider his death sentence and that Sukuna can mean "exorcism". Sounds like mutually assured destruction.

Universe wise, demonstratively, it doesn't look as though anyone who is isolatingly strong like Sukuna in his time was bound by love unless we're looking at Rika and Yuta (not quite the same circumstances) or Gojo and Geto and, in both instances, love was their undoing. It's likely why "love" is interpreted as the ability to penetrate that loneliness with a larger show of strength which we've seen in later chapters.

I also think that we're missing something significant with the regular reference to the Heian period as the "Golden Age of Jujutsu". It doesn't make the story inaccessible as not knowing hasn't negatively impacted our interpretation of the story at large but I think that we're losing some subtle nuance from being out of the know. Similarly, considering the potential that the character is based off of some combination of the above, I feel as though on a grander scale Gege Akutami won't go into too much of his background.

We'll probably get another 1-2 Heian period throwbacks specific to Sukuna to close some gaps between he and Kenjaku or Uruame and perhaps...

⚠️ Spoiler warning for JJK chapter 212.

insight into who made the little shit smile like this in the first place. I have a feeling whoever made him smirk like this could be another Big Bad waiting in the shadows.. I also think we'll get a flashback to the OG Gojo vs Zenin dispute!

[celestie0]

another sport i see gojo playing is baseball. like just IMAGINEEE mlb player gojo, his team is playing their rival team. but one of the players on the other team, they both hate each other

so, they almost got into a fight during the game previously because he had said something about you (his wife) and gojo almost tore his head off if it weren’t for the two teams clearing benches. but when gojo was pitching to him a few innings later (yes, gojo is def a pitcher, the best) he purposely throws a ball too inside (damn near dislocating the guys elbow, lol he’s so petty)

so the guy charges the mound and benches clear again, but gojo lands the most chefs kiss punch to his face.

the video goes viral and makes headlines the next day lol

omg pls he’d look so hot in baseball trousers his ass would be poppin ✋🏼😩 also yes i can totally see him being a pitcher!! him being petty and pitching the ball straight to the guy that said sumn ab you 💀💀🫣🫣 thats uhh thats kindaa uhhhh i wld need to show him some appreciation for that later 😏 LOVE IT!!!

[kedsandtubesocks]

baseball spring training started & I miss Gojo so here we are lol, this is dedicated to @stellamancer @seiwas & @vigilante-izuku for always supporting my baseball Gojo brainrot, love you babes

01: change-up.

baseball player!gojo x reader

-

The weather is gorgeous.

“A wonderful day for baseball,” the lady checking your bag into the stadium even grinned when she told you that.

You don’t know baseball. Didn’t even know spring training was a thing. Yet with the amount of fans in the smaller stadium, and the cluster of photographers and news reporters lining the media area, you could’ve sworn this is a regular game.

And it’s all because of one man, the same man you met at a coffee shop.

Satoru Gojo - born on December 7 1989.

Thankfully you didn’t have to stare at the wiki page for long because every sports outlet online happily was ready to tell you more about him.

He’s considered a once in a lifetime player. He hit a home run once where the ball busted out of the Tokyo Dome. He broke a pitching record his first season in Japan’s Major leagues. He has one of the highest batting averages a pitcher can have.

As a pitcher you learn he is known for his notorious changeup.

It’s a type of pitch that relies on deception, tricks a player into believing a fast pitch approaches only for the ball to change speed and throw off the batter. You can’t wrap your mind around a ball even being able to do that.

But you couldn’t help but think how it fits Gojo. This seemingly way too tall and annoyingly charming guy turns out to be an absolute mega star of an athlete doesn’t feel real.

Because now here you are at a baseball spring training game not even knowing a single clue about the sport.

Currently waiting for the game to start, you scroll through the ESPN page and accidentally press a video attached to his section. It starts up a recent interview of him at a talk show. The sigh of him in a sleek gorgeous deep navy suit that brings out his eyes has you memorized. Then hearing him talk, hearing him laugh through your phone breaks the spell.

You quickly scramble out of the article, click away all open tabs, even clear your history and wonder if you should maybe just leave.

He did beg you to come see him, but how would he even know if you came…

That’s when the team line ups are called.

In the 00 jersey, batting second and not pitching this game, the announcement of Satoru Gojo’s name makes the crowd erupt in a frenzy shocking you.

A kid behind you, with absolute adoration in his voice, excitedly tells his dad how amazing Gojo is and how this year their team had to make it to the championship because of him.

Your eyes zone in on the man constantly trying to pay for your coffee shop order.

He even paid the poor barista to make a messy baseball sugar cookie with a sad face on it as an apology for you.

Now he struts onto the field drawing all the attention to him, yours included. It’s unfair how handsome Gojo looks in the uniform that highlights his tall frame and broad shoulders. He also wears sleek sunglasses that block his eyes.

Once on the line with the rest of his teammates, Gojo wearing the most charming smile takes off his hat and nods his head ever so slightly to the reception given to him. His face turns to skim the crowd in front of him, smiling and waving at everyone.

That is until he spots you.

You feel caught red handed and your heart hammers inside your chest so rapidly.

Suddenly Gojo slides his sunglasses down and blatantly stares at you. You regret sitting so close in the arena because now his twinkling sky blue eyes refuse to let his gaze leave yours.

Then, with the most amused grin, he winks at you and slides his glasses back on.

You’re horrified, almost squawk, and think about walking to sit on the opposing team’s side. But it’s because of all the nasty butterflies trying to infest your stomach.

Whatever was on your face, whatever reaction you made, suddenly has Gojo laughing.

It’s a bright thing he tries covering up by coughing, but you saw it. Even his teammate standing beside him notices.

Even with gorgeous weather, the wonderful energy of the crowd so eager for the game to start… watching Gojo, finally taking in this new reality in, feels like something dangerous is starting to brew in your chest.

[marauderstiltheend]

I'm reminded of how adorable Okkutsu Yuta was when he saw Zen'in Maki again. Stars in his eyes' Notice me, Senpai feels.

I tell you, Gojo boys when they fall in love, they act like 'Notice me, Senpaiiiii' puppies. Of course, the difference is, Gojo Satoru is an immature twat.

Also Nakamura Yuuichi, voice actor of Gojo Satoru, thought Gojo and Utahime were you know, in good terms with each other. That's the closest Nakamura ships any of his characters with others. Hihihihihihihi Not to mention, Gojo forgot to create a curtain because he wanted to get to Utahime as fast as he can when she and Mei Mei were in radio silence for 2 days. He didn't even flirt back to Mei Mei. But really, dumbass forgot the curtain. Hahahahaha He keeps teasing Utahime as weak, but he forgets a vital part of their operation because its a missing Utahime. Like Pokemon Go where you'd totally forgot your chores because you must find that elusive wild pokemon. Hahahahahaha

Teasing Utahime, a total lame and twat school boy crush move but seriously, teasing Utahime as weak for 10++ years? Such dedication but it kinda gets old. Its laughable. Gojo needs new teasing material except if he deviates from his teasing routine, he'd totally give his secrets away. Probably stammer his unending admiration for Utahime senpai, worship the ground she walks on and kisses her feet in supplication.

I mean, play ball! Gojo in his sparkly hot daddy outfit playing baseball. For Utahime, who didn't think it was that hot. Hahahahahahaha lame dumbass Gojo. He should have worn a baseball player's uniform, Utahime would have approved.

But, Jujutsu Kaisen is a battle shounen gag manga, I doubt we get confirmation of dumbass Gojo's undying love for Utahime.

[charamander459]

Sometimes reunions are just close. Other times, it's Kaito and Noritoshi during the seventh inning of the Goodwill Event baseball game.

NSFW 18+ at the read more

Ocs in play:

Yusuke Imahara: 18, Kyoto team, Kaito's cousin and romantically into Aoi Todo.

Kaito Gojo: 19, Tokyo team, Yusuke's cousin and Noritoshi's boyfriend.

“It's a surprise to see you play.” Noritoshi commented to Kaito, on the second base at the bottom of the sixth inning, Miwa up to bat. Kaito was the stopper, wearing his Tokyo University baseball uniform with his glasses transitioned to block out the sun. He went without the hat, the fluffy mane of white sticking up like clouds on his head. “After all, you didn't have to.”

“The years are lacking and Kugisaki went down with a sprain.” Kaito commented, watching Yuji for signs to stop Noritoshi from running home. “But it is baseball, you know I would watch.”

“Right, you're more addicted to it than Todo with that pop star.”

A snort from Kaito. “Not true.”

“Really? You sit with your brother-in-law at times, rooting on the Tokyo team every year from what you told me.”

Silence drifted over Kaito, his eyes peered right on Miwa. His hand was in his glove, ready to make a move as Noritoshi talked.

“I thought you told me you were too busy for the Event this year.”

“My schedule lightened up,” the Gojo replied. “I'm just glad it did so I can see you in that sexy uniform.”

Noritoshi blushed at the compliment, tilting his head away as he groaned. His face was bandaged, a majority of it covered in the white bandaging Shoko wrapped him up in. A eye opened at Kaito, narrowing slightly before shutting again.

“Shut up.”

“Why not make me, star player?”

“Are you taunting me?”

“Maybe.”

A moment of silence. Then, “I'll make you be quiet, Gojo Kaito.”

That alone had Kaito blushing, watching Miwa swing her bat as he dived for the ground ball, snagging it in his mitt. He saw Noritoshi out of the corner of his eye step off base, quickly tagging him before throwing a screwball towards Panda. With fumbling and a excited “I GOT IT!”, Panda quickly tagged Miwa out.

“And that is the sixth inning!” Kaito looked towards his brother at home plate, seeing Satoru standing with his hands on his hips with a begrudgingly Noritoshi walking by him. “Better luck next time, Noritoshi.”

“Hmph.” Noritoshi walked for Utahime, hearing her comments as Kaito chuckled softly, pulling the mitt off his hand. He watched his body, seeing how he looked in the dark violet uniform with the black socks leading up into the pants. A thought crossed Kaito’s mind, relieved it's the seventh inning.

He moved for the gate, opening it and closing it behind him. He saw his cousin, Yusuke, talking with Todo before a wave was given towards him. “Kai! Kaito!” Yusuke called out, rushing over to the older cousin. Yusuke and Kaito were only ten days and a year apart, but sometimes it doesn't feel like Kaito is the older one in this situation. “You were pretty good at that uh… baseball thing.”

“Thanks,” Kaito smiled at his cousin. “You know me. I have been playing for years, not to gloat.”

Todo huffed with an eyeroll. “What are you doing over here, anyway?”

“Just looking for a certain Kamo is all.”

“Kamo went to use the restroom.” Yusuke piped up. “Why asking?”

Kaito snickered. “I wanna make sure he isn't butthurt, is all.” He ruffled his cousin’s hair, watching the white hair mix in with the dyed strands get blended more before walking towards the restrooms.

He just countered Noritoshi as he was leaving, his arms snaking around his lips with his lips pressing to his immediately. Noritoshi made a fuss, but gave in, kissing him back. “Mm, Kaito easy.” He pulled off him for a second, staring up at him. “... Kai..”

“No one will see you.” Kaito murmured, moving the duo to the other side of the building. “And it'll be quick, I promise.”

Noritoshi gave a small sound, sighing. Kaito was away for an overseas mission, having just returned the day of the first event. And they barely had time to even talk since the injured Kamo was forced to head to bed by orders of Shoko. And his weakness? Kaito’s baseball uniform. “... I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” He enveloped the Kamo’s lips once more, a hand slipping into the dark trousers. His fingers prodded at his clit in his boxers, Noritoshi letting out a soft moan at the touch.

“Mm..” Noritoshi tilted his neck slightly, a gasp escaping as Kaito’s lips soon pressed down to the exposed skin. The other hand lowered the black turtleneck, continuing to kiss. “K-Kai we have to be q-quick-”

“I know.” Kaito pressed his his fingers up into his folds, letting the fabric between them keep being a barricade. Noritoshi whimpered, grinding himself into his fingers, biting his lower lip. “Desperate already?”

“Damn you!”

Kaito chuckled as the other hand moved from the turtleneck, heading for the fly of his white trousers. He stopped rubbing Noritoshi, quickly undoing the belt and the button. Noritoshi watched with a desire, his hands replicating Kaito’s as he slid the dark blue down his thighs with his underwear.

Kaito chuckled, pulling Noritoshi up into his arms. He pushed Noritoshi up against the wall carefully, trying not to hurt him. “Sorry this is undesirable.”

“Just be quiet already, Kaito,” he hushed him. He felt the tip of his boyfriend brush against his clit, covering his mouth to sustain a moan.

“I have to apologize, I didn't bring condoms-”

“Oh so now you say it?” Noritoshi didn't care at that moment, the heat between the two growing more and more rapidly. He couldn't even remember why Kaito was a bit upset with him, neither could Kaito. Black gloved-fingerless hands gripped his thighs, slowly pushing between his folds and into his entrance.

“Fuck-” “God dammit-” Both moaned in unison, Noritoshi staring right at Kaito with passion. Kaito wished he could make this long, he really could, but the seventh inning stretch can only go for so long. His hand pushed on the back of Kaito's head, pulling him into a long kiss as the Gojo slowly thrusted into him.

He was gaining momentum as the duo kissed, slight moans escaping their lips. The kissing grew hungrier and more for desire than to keep silent, Kaito going a bit faster. The warmth and the slickness of Noritoshi’s walls was perfect for him, but that desire of being away for a time was eating at him. He craved Noritoshi.

“Mm…” Noritoshi moaned with each thrust, gasping softly. “Fuck- Kaito, please. Go faster…” he was begging him. The time with Kaito gone was tiring, missing his boyfriend more and more each day. Fingers entrapped white spikes, his hand running into his undercut. “Please, please…”

Kaito grunted in return, moving a bit faster to comply with his desires. He wanted this to last, not wanting Noritoshi to feel like a cheap whore for sex when he wasn't. He highly respected his boyfriend, he highly respected his intellect and his personality. He highly respects him as a whole, continuing to respect his wishes in the passionate rumbling.

“Yes, yes. Oh, fuck..!” Noritoshi was struggling to stay quiet, his legs soon being brought over Kaito’s shoulders as he pushed deeper into him. “Oooh…!”

The moans and the hair touching sent Kaito into an overdrive, practically slamming up into him. The squeezing of his cock, the warmth as he slammed right into the g-spot. The cry that emitted from Noritoshi's lips at that.

“Fuck… god dammit!” Kaito was growing rougher with the thrusts, his baseball pants falling down his legs as he continued with his erratic thrusts. He kept in a timely manner, hearing Noritoshi whimpering and whining as he kept up. The throbbing soon followed, Kaito's blue eyes widening as he felt it convulse against his partner’s walls.

“T-Toshi-”

“Don't worry,” Noritoshi breathed out. “Please, don't worry…”

Kaito dug his nails into his thighs, pushing him against the wall as panting was following suit. Sweat clamped his hair to his forehead, Noritoshi pulling Kaito into a sloppy kiss. “Good boy,” he praised him between their lips. “Such a good boy.”

It sent Kaito into a moment, losing himself as he didn't give any warning for the orgasm that escaped him. Noritoshi's eye widened, arching his back as he came with him, his fingers clinging to the jersey.

Both were panting and sweaty, Noritoshi’s legs shaking with his pants at his ankles now, still propped over his shoulders. Kaito realized what he did, panic crossing his face.

“Shit- Noritoshi I am so sorry-”

“Please, don't be.” Noritoshi managed to croak out. He felt the warmth, the twitching of Kaito’s shaft between his walls and the movement of its leave. A pathetic whine left his lips when he saw it back in the open, then felt the warmth of his cum dripping out. Kaito watched, slowly putting Noritoshi against the wall to help him keep his stance.

“... I will buy you a Plan B.”

“I'm not even ovulating, Kaito.” Noritoshi rolled his eyes, but was appreciative of Kaito’s help with holding him up. He grabbed his pants, pulling them back up as he fixed himself before resting against the wall. Kaito followed with him, pushing his now softening dick back into his boxers and his pants, sitting beside Noritoshi. “I wasn't expecting that.”

“Neither was I.” Kaito admitted, looking at him. “We should get back. The stretch is almost over.”

“I feel like it is over.”

A chuckle left Kaito's lips, being silenced by Noritoshi. “Hmph. I do love you, Kaito Gojo.”

“Aw, I'm glad you do after that mess I left you in.” Kaito snorted, watching Noritoshi shakily get to his feet. “Are you still in the game?”

“I must be, considering we don't even have Mechamaru fill in for me.”

“Just say you feel too much pain to continue playing.” Kaito grinned, getting up with him. “You go back before I do, so no one thinks we hooked up.”

An eyeroll but a nod. “Alright. See you on the field?”

“See you on the bench, Toshi.”

[rafs13]

Gojohime/Gouta fanfic

Here’s a k pop inspired fanfic idea of gojohime for anyone who’s interested. I’ve had it in my mind for a while now.

It’s called Sweet Debauchery.

It will include be a reverse harem romance where a lot of the characters are pinning for Utahime giving Gojo competition It’s slow burn, fluff, flirting, loss of innocence, angst, kissing etc in chapters to come.

Summary:

Sweet Debauchery is the newest hottest sensation in Japan, a boy band that has taken the world by storm. The billion-dollar group consists of 6 members who have the world to their name with riches and fame. Gojo Satoru is known as the Face of the group with his infamous nickname ‘’Baby Blue’’, known for charming ladies, wooing, and breaking hearts. He lives on the edge, on the high and fast life fueled by exhilaration, however, everything changes when he accidentally comes across paths with a lady named Lori Utahime. A poor lady with humble ambitions to become a professional baseball player ends up applying for a job as a personal assistant for the group to save up and fund her dreams.

Here’s the prologue

Prologue -D Day

Sunset had peaked at its zenith, and the sky shined a blood-red orange with dark hues creeping in. It was the eve of summer in the year 2020. After 7 years of tremendous preparation, 1 million auditions, and vigorous training, JJK Records, Tokyo’s most prestigious record label finalized their first official boy band. The idea to debut a new boy band came to fruition in 2013 when the boom of boy bands rose again in Japan. Before that year the interest in boy groups from Japan had declined with the Japanese audience as international groups (specifically in the States) dominated the music charts. However, a shift occurred in 2013 when a Japanese solo artist from JJK records named ZER0, debuted with his hit song ‘’Lost In Paradise’’ which charted number 1 on the Billboard Charts and went viral worldwide. The world was now interested in new talent found in the depths of Japan, it was a new world for a new audience to discover with curiosity. The culture and spin on music were fresh and unexplored territory.

This wave of change was dubbed ‘’The New Gen’’.

‘’Are you all okay with the conditions?’’

Six contracts were placed on a sleek metallic table in a horizontal line, all printed and ready to sign by the six young men standing before two male figures. The six young men all were found muttering to themselves in a small circle as minutes before they had, had the time to look over the contracts. The most they did was skim through the first couple of pages as the excitement to debut was too hard to contain. Behind the two men was a huge widespread fine glass-tinted window giving a view of Tokyo at sunset. It was a Friday so traffic, city lights, fumes, and people were buzzing on the scene. The city chaos outside was a huge contrast to what was going on. The six young men were in the office of the CEO of JJK Records, being offered to sign with the company as a six-membered group. Each contract presented to the group is seven hundred and three pages long, but out of all the pages, page seven clause three point one is the most important. This page included a list typed out in thick red capitalized words that stated the following:

The Ten Unbreachable Rules

1. NO DATING. AS A SIGNED AND ACTIVE MEMBER OF JJK RECORDS, YOU MUST NOT DATE. THIS ALSO INCLUDES SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH ANYONE, ESPECIALLY A FAN. THIS IS NON-NEGOTIABLE.

2.ALL UNRELEASED/RELEASED WRITTEN SONGS/MATERIAL, INSTRUMENTALS, REMIXES, AND COLLABS THAT ARE RELEASED UNDER JJK RECORDS OR BY ANY SIGNED ARTIST UNDER JJK RECORDS WILL BE COPYRIGHTED TO THE COMPANY. THEREFORE 100 PERCENT OF THE RESIDUALS/ROYALTIES WILL BE SUPPLIED TO THE COMPANY

3.50 PERCENT OF ANY MUSIC SALES MADE FROM THIRD-PARTY BRAND DEALS WILL BE GIVEN TO JJK RECORDS

4.ALL SIGNED JJK RECORD ARTISTS WILL BE ASSIGNED A WORK SCHEDULE REGARDING THE YEAR. OUT OF THE 365 DAYS IN A YEAR, EACH ARTIST WILL GET 1 MONTH OFF, ZERO SICK DAYS, AND MUST WORK OVERTIME/ON WEEKENDS

5.THE NAME, BRAND, MUSIC, AND IDENTITY OF YOUR ASSIGNED GROUP AND GROUP MEMBERS ALL BELONG TO JJK RECORDS

6.A LOAN OF ¥300,000,000 WILL BE PAID IN ADVANCE AS A NEW ARTIST. THIS MUST BE PAID BACK A YEAR AFTER THE DEBUT THROUGH SALES.

7.ALL SIGNED ARTISTS UNDER JJK RECORDS CONTRACTS ARE ACTIVE FOR 7 YEARS WITH THE OPTION TO RESIGN ONCE THE 7 YEARS COMPLETE.

8.STRICT DIETING MUST BE INCORPORATED INTO THE EVERYDAY LIFESTYLE

9.STRICT DECORUM AND PROFESSIONALISM MUST BE KEPT AT WORK, PUBLIC EVENTS, CONCERTS, FANSIGNINGS, AND ALL PUBLIC APPEARANCES. NO DRINKING PUBLICALLY, NO CRIMINAL/ILLEGAL ACTIVITY SUCH AS DRUGS, GANG/YAKUZA ACTIVITY, OR USE OF GUNS/KNIVES & INAPPROPRIATE ACTIVITY SHOULD BE ENGAGED IN

10.IF AT ANY TIME ONE OF THESE RULES IS BREACHED THIS CONTRACT WILL BE CEASED AND VOID

‘’Think carefully. Once the ink is dry you’ll belong to us.’’ joked the older male playfully, the man looked ancient as if he had passed his life limit spotting sunken eyes that were hollow you could barely see through them, due to being cast over by thick black shadow. The elder was sat down hunched in his chair with his slender weak hands resting on the table for support. This man was named Yoshinobu Gakuganji who owned JJK Records, he was notorious in the music business for making dreams come true for up-and-coming artists. Gakuganji made stars such as platinum two-time seller Mei Mei, a ballad/soul singer who debuted last year and is now gaining international fans. Teen pop sensation Momo also busted onto the scene debuting earlier that year in 2020, but has been actively promoting in Korea & Thailand outside of Japan. Plus Gakuganji hit it big with ZER0 which gave him huge credentials for his record label to the point that American labels are looking to do business with JJK Records in a partnership.

Gakuganji smiled at the view of the six young men speaking upon themselves, despite doing so he already knew they would accept the offer. These young men were desperate to debut, it was too easy for him to know that as they wouldn’t have trained for so long to debut. It made it easier for him to set his traps…

Aside from Gakuganji the other man now stood up placing a hand on his hip and waiting for an answer, in contrast to Gakuganji this man was middle-aged, presumably in his late 30s, and was bulky in stature with tanned sun-kissed skin. The man wore black thick shades of sunglasses, spotted a spiky dark brown undercut, and was clad in dark purple shiny clothing. His name is Masamichi Yaga, he is currently the CEO of JJK Records, he specifically is responsible for scouting potential trainees, all auditions that take place to select trainees, and the whole training process. He would drop trainees like flies if he believes they are too lazy, weak-minded, and fail to progress/improve. For one to make it to debut is a testimony itself, because the training period is madly chaotic and built for the Marines.

The fact that literally 10-year-olds are trainees is astonishing as it can make (lead to debut) or break (become cut after years of sacrifice to train) a person. Both sides of the coin are tainted.

‘’So…do we have a deal?’’ Yaga spoke up, and the group split quickly after hearing Yaga’s voice. The names of the six young men were as follows: Kento Nanami, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Zenin, and lastly Choso Kamo.

The first to get scouted and join the company as a trainee was Toji at the age of 15 years old. He originally got scouted to be a child actor under the acting division of JJK Records after a talent scout saw him and thought he would make a good child villain in a TV show. But he was a terrible actor, he could never remember his lines and later got transferred over to train after showing promising skills in rapping. By blood, Toji is a part of the Zenin Clan, one of the most prestigious families in Tokyo known for being elite in talent. Every member was exceptional in something and had built an empire. Still, Toji was VERY average and couldn’t make a name or make a living for himself independently leaving him banished from his family. As a member of the Zenin Clan, Toji inherited the family's good looks with raven dark hair and spiky tussled bangs, emerald shiny tinted eyes, and a lean long muscular build, but was still seen as average to his family in terms of their standards. But Toji still had a huge share of female admirers from girls to women. He trained for 10 years, working normal odd jobs to get by while he trained watching other trainees debut before him left him bitter and filled with jealousy. Despite his hardships, Toji learned how to pull on his strengths, being born with a lot of strength in his bones and body, he used that ability to hone in on acrobatic skills. This was a skill no one else had which kept him from being cut as a trainee and eventually led to his debut at 25 years old being the oldest member.

Toji was extremely jealous of Gojo Satoru though, even though he had come to like him after training with him for some time, Gojo had trained for 6 months and was chosen to debut so fast. Gojo Satoru was the golden boy, the be-all and do-all, the Ace who could do almost everything well without much effort. Dancing, singing, performing, you name it. Like a Chameleon Gojo could copy, rinse, and repeat anything taught to him. His brain works at an advanced level and his eyes can scan and picture anything he sees just like a camera. Many things about Gojo made everyone fond of him, he dripped charisma and charm without even trying, and his undeniable aura drew whoever was around him to him like a magnet. Guys wanted to be his friend and be him, girls wanted to date him, and old women wanted their daughters to marry him for him to become their son-in-law. At 6 feet 5, with messy silver-white hair undercut, and cerulean crystal orbs of blue eyes that looked like an image of the sky trapped in time, it was very easy to fall for him or be jealous of him.

One look at his baby blue eyes and dreamy lopsided smile was enough for any girl to be under his love spell. Let's just say his rizz is insane. The world was at Gojo’s fingertips and he loved it, he was ready for the fun of the music world, and choosing this life meant he was free from his family’s rules. Like Toji, Gojo was from a wealthy family/clan, but he decided to pursue a music career to gain independence, so getting a shot at living the high life as a celebrity didn’t hurt.

Gojo was hungry for it and would devour every part of the experience.

Nothing would bring him down.

Gojo accidentally got scouted after his best friend Suguru Geto got scouted at the mall for an audition at JJK Records. Geto had told Gojo about being scouted and was convinced by his other best friend Leiri Shoko to do the audition as she saw the huge opportunity Geto had. Geto only agreed after Shoko asked him to do it because he had a huge fat crush on her then. All 3 of them went to Geto’s audition, Geto and Gojo saw it as a fun joke to kill time. But Geto passed his audition with flying colors by singing (never expecting to make it that far), and Gojo was scouted without an audition based on his looks alone. Shoko wasn’t offered anything but was okay with it as she already dreamed of becoming a doctor.

Like Gojo, Geto is exceptional but his strongest traits are singing/songwriting. You see his voice brought liquid gold out of the ears of whoever heard it. His voice is sultry, breathy, and husky in tone, but the control and power over it is strong. Geto could hit high notes like nothing after months of training, his whistles were insane and his voice could go dangerously low to the point that other female trainees could not stand around the guy without falling in love. It didn’t help that he had long long sleek luscious jet-black hair that he loved to tie in a bun or half bun leaving the remaining hair out. Or his attractive androgynous facial features and nose and ear piercings that set the bill. With his lax but sweet charming behavior, Geto was a genuinely nice guy to be around. Geto also trained for six months but truly fell for being a music artist once he saw how his voice moved the room whenever he sang at evaluations/in practice. From then on his dream was to move people with his voice and help others with his songs, he wanted to share his gift with the world. He like Gojo debuted at the age of 23.

Likewise, Kento Nanami shared the same conviction as Geto, using his gifts to help others in the world. Nanami got scouted in a bathroom at a dance competition where he competed and won 1st prize. At the time Nanami was going through an emo B-Boy phase after being tired of dancing at contemporary/ballet competitions and always winning 1st prize. To challenge himself he decided to learn breakdancing for fun in one week and compete, but to his dismay, he was amazing and defeated all the competition. Kento had been dancing ever since he was three years old, he would be what you classify as an abnormal dancer. The art ran through his veins, it was like breathing to him. He mastered tap, jazz, contemporary, ballet, hip-hop, alternative dance, and Afro-fusion, at the age of 13 years old, and mastered breakdancing at 19 where he became a trainee. You see Nanami could have debuted earlier but didn’t because he kept leaving and returning to the company, his training period lasted for 3 years as he took many hiatuses to find his true purpose in life.

Other trainees didn’t have this luxury but Nanami was given the grace because he was simply too good of a dancer to let go. JJK Records even had plans to debut him as a soloist, as he also is an amazing singer but he turned them down because he was still searching to see if dance was his true purpose. Nanami even had a normal job for a while as a stockbroker but found no purpose in that and left. His reason for returning to train at JJK Records was that he danced to cheer up a sad girl at a bakery after she was having a bad day. His dance lifted her mood completely and the light in her eyes returned, that hopeful look she gave was something he drew out with his dancing, and from there on Nanami knew his purpose.

When dancing Nanami’s body flowed like water, moving slowly and smoothly like a pouring stream of water at the riverside. Peaceful and serene. But then he would bring up the tide of the water and go hard with a splash, leaving the audience quenched with thirst for more. Girls couldn’t get enough of him. You could not take your eyes off of him. His hips were a danger zone because the way he could move them was unhuman-like. He was incredible. Nanami's biracial heritage was also another insight that drew him admirers from many female trainees, he is Japanese and Danish and the perfect blend of the two. With a rich champagne blond undercut neatly parted and styled, stunning cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, a tall build and defined long jawline, warm chocolate brown eyes, and creamy beige skin, you’d think he’d be a model on the page of Vogue (he also declined the chance to model for them years ago). The humble, caring, and honest character traits of Nanami are something Yaga couldn’t let go of regarding this group. He cared for other trainees and was often one to help out a trainee if they were stuck, his best friend Haibara was cut and that devastated him but Nanami told Haibara he would debut for him. Nanami debuted at 22.

The last two members Ryomen Sukuna and Choso Kamo debuted under sad circumstances. Sukuna lived the ghetto life, he was born in the slums of Japan and was involved with the Yakuza from the age of 10 years old. He committed crimes like stealing money from stores, participating in drivebys, and selling drugs on the corners of the streets at night. Despite his struggles, Sukuna would rap to escape it and taught himself how to do so by watching old-school rappers such as 50 Cent, Nas, Tupac, and Notorious B.I.G. He even learned English from studying their videos and watching their interviews over and over again. Rapping and MCing were something that Sukuna could do to express himself and the hardships he was facing, he was a lyricist who could play on words well and could rap extremely fast.

JJK Records came across Sukuna after hearing a mix tape of his on an underground radio station, as soon as the company was aware of him they searched to find his whereabouts and asked him to train with the offer of being in the company's boyband. His position was already secured, and Sukuna accepted with the hopes of becoming a rapper/MC who could be respected internationally. He was scouted at 20 years old and trained for 4 years. The company needed someone who had a gruff, hard exterior, someone who could bring the smoke, and Sukuna had that. He’s crazy, unpredictable, and deadly you never know what he’s thinking and will bring the fire. His hot pink hair, face tattoos, bulky body, handsome face, and somewhat sadistic character brought a darker edge to the group. He had many female admirers too like the others because of the list mentioned before, and he would often flirt with them despite not being allowed to. Sukuna debuted at 24.

Choso Kamo is the boy lolita type, a little dim-witted, shy, and innocent and he is the youngest of the bunch. Choso trained for 2 years and was scouted at the age of 16 years old. Before becoming a trainee he was living in a foster home with his other friends who he took as siblings. When it came to talent Choso could sing well, his voice was great for harmonies and blending with other voices. His talent lay in his voice being used as an instrument to amplify and invoke a feeling/vibe. He was the only member who knew of JJK Records before auditioning and attended an audition of his own free will. Choso barely passed his audition due to his huge stage fright but spent 2 years overcoming that. However, he still comes off as shy and unsure of himself but tries his best. Yaga decided to debut Choso because he believed his talent for harmonies with any other voice/vocal was needed for the group. In addition, Choso also carries a cute, meek relatable persona which would be easy for the audience to relate to and crush over. Choso was adorkable, he wore sweaters and jeans that were too big for him and tied his black spiky hair with two puffs. His talking voice was sweet and earnest, and his pale shiny skin, toothy smile, luminous violet eyes, and purple eye shadow made him look like a cute luscious vampire. He is too cute for his good but when he gets serious another mature sexy side of him comes out.

Choso won the popular junior trainee award after 1 month of training, and most of the votes were from junior trainee fangirls.

All six members had spent time training together and forming a genuine bond despite fighting at times. They had hoped to debut together because they all got along. Despite Toji’s secret jealousy of Gojo, he did respect his talent and drive to show up and work. Everyone loved Nanami’s leadership Geto’s support, and Sukuna’s will to stick up for others especially when it came to Choso who got bullied by other trainees. But from now on the group's relationship would be truly tested. Once they debuted there was no going back.

‘’Yes, Yaga. We’ve all talked it through since we got the news. We’ve taken a little time to look at the contracts but we trust we are in good hands.’’ Nanami spoke kindly, Gojo brushed past the group and went up to Yaga leaning his hands on the table before the contracts. Gojo groaned like a kid in the candy store, his patience was running thin.

‘’We’ve gotten all of the formalities out of the way now. Let’s sign and move on to the good stuff.’’ Gojo groaned now bouncing up and down like a manchild. Geto shook his head and Nanami laughed in agreement. They both knew Gojo couldn’t contain his excitement.

‘’What I wanna know is what our group name is gonna be, it better not be cringy or some crap like that.’’ Sukuna deadpanned shoving his hands in the pockets of his camo pants.

‘’It’s not gonna be cringy, if so we’ll just force them to change it.’’ Toji chimed now stretching his arms and legs as all the other members laughed, before he and the other members went to sign their contracts.

Choso signed his contract slowly with a small smile on his face, ‘’I can finally get my siblings and me out, we can have a better life.’’ he whispered sadly, Geto placed a warm hand on Choso’s shoulder as a sign of comfort.

‘’You should be proud of yourself Choso. And don’t worry you and your siblings will be fine.’’ Geto reassured Choso

‘’You did good kid,’’ Sukuna says giving Choso a small punch on the arm, before Gojo whines and groans again loudly slouching down his body for dramatic effect. ‘’Stop with the waterworks already, we should be celebrating we just got signed,’’ he whines

All the contracts are signed and Yaga takes them off the table as Gakuganji stands up to leave the room bidding the group a small wave on his way out. Yaga then turns his back towards the group with his hands behind a serious feel to the atmosphere.

‘’Congratulations to you all. You’ve worked hard. Celebrate if you must, but that will only be for a short while. All 6 of you have a lot of work ahead of you. Once you debut everything will change, but you must stay grounded’’ Yaga started ‘’But first things first. I will reveal to you the group name.’’

Finally, Gojo thought to himself as he could see his friends look up in anticipation to hear what it was, the name of this group would be its trademark to the world. It had to be catchy and work well with the public. If not the group won’t hit well with the public and Gojo would have to kiss goodbye to his independence and chance at the high life.

‘’So what is it Yaga we don’t have all day?’’ Gojo yelled

‘’Watch it Satoru…Anyway…All six of you will debut next year. The name of your group will be…..’’

—-

Late 2020

Lori Utahime sat in her bedroom faced with an old Mac laptop in front of her, the room was very small and cramped, there was only enough space for a bed and mini wardrobe. Plain and bland were the words to explain how the room looked, it was grey and beige with minimal decoration or color. That’s the kind of person Lori was, she didn’t care about the vanities of the world, what mattered to her was the important things, the little things.

The only thing she cared about was her little dream. The dream wasn’t much but she just wanted to play baseball as an official athlete in the women's league. At age 11 she fell in love with the sport after watching a group of teens play baseball at her school, how they all worked as a team and achieved victory as a unit. Lori was often alone and isolated from others as a child, her interests often didn’t align with the other girls her age. She was into baseball, rock climbing, cartoons cosplay, and geeky stuff, while every other girl was growing up, being in love, and starting their life as a young woman. Boys saw her as weird for not being girly enough, they also judged her for the huge scar she has on the bridge of her nose, calling her names.

She wasn’t an attractive girl in her eyes, just a bland one.

That was okay with her, she was content with that.

Lori’s dream to compete in baseball professional was on the verge of a breakthrough, she worked hard at practicing in the batter position and was good enough to eventually be scouted by the women's Tokyo team for training. However, due to financial issues, Lori couldn’t afford to pay the fees and had to help out her family with the bills. She came from a poor family and times had gotten much harder since her dad got ill, therefore more financial burden fell on her. To help with the burden Lori left her baseball training behind to get a normal office job, it paid okay but it was a temporary role and now she desperately needed a new job.

The laptop screen was on the Indeed job search website, numerous jobs had been applied to but Lori just kept scrolling applying for any job she felt suitable for.

A buzzing sound came from Lori’s jeans pocket, it was her phone ringing, and in quick haste, she answered.

‘’Hello, this is Lori Utahime. May I know who’s speaking?’’ Lori spoke in a professional relaxed tone

The call was from the Human Resources & Administration Team of JJK Records, Lori had interviewed for a position as a Personal Assistant and had not heard anything in 3 weeks. The interview went well so she was hoping she’d get the job.

‘’Thank you Lori Utahime for taking the time to attend the interview for this position. We are truly amazed at your credentials and skills. Congratulations, we would like to offer you the role of Personal Assitant. Please let us know if you’d accept this offer.’’ said the voice from the other side of the phone.

Lori stood up slowly, gave herself a small congratulatory pat on the back, and gave a small smile before answering.

‘’Thank you, Nitta, I’d be delighted to take the offer.’’

——

I have uploaded this on my A03 account (my username there is different-Mint Bunniez)

You can find it here

[cinnabun-faerie]

Jujutsu Kaisen: Playing Friday the 13th

A/N: This fits since it's Friday the 13th!

JJK Taglist: @watyousayin @harmonydork

Join the taglist here !

FRIGHTFEST 2023 MASTERLIST

As a camp counselor

he had no intention of playing

but his son Yuji asked him to

and Gojo wouldn't stop annoying him to play

so when he's counselor, he does what he can to help the other players

he would be one of the players that would do well alone

but he doesn't have that luxury

Gojo always makes sure to team up with him because "Safety in numbers, Nanami"

As Jason

silent player for the most part

except when chasing Gojo who is taunting him

he knows how to play so he uses his skills to his advantage

he makes sure to cut the power so that he can use the darkness to hear the characters (cmp counselors get scared in the dark*

As a camp counselor

determined to win

he doesn't like Gojo buddying up with him

he's too loud and he can't stop whining

Megumi leaves traps down for Gojo, not Jason

depending on who is Jason, he'll lead them to Gojo if he annoys him too much

As Jason

beelines for Gojo

for he all that he does to him in the game, he deserves it

if he loses, it's because he's focused too long on getting back at Gojo as the others escape

or he couldn't bother to chase after Gojo

As a camp counselor

She picks the character that is the most useful in strength or in repair

rather than hiding, she immediately starts trying to find a way out of the camp

if someone else is repairing the car or the boat, she will head to Jason's little hut to get Pamela Voorhees' sweater so she can help whoever is playing Tommy kill Jason

As a camp counselor

He gets too into it

"Oh no, I'm a helpless camp counselor who is being hunted by Jason"

likes the buddy system

often buddies up with Geto or Nanami

or Megumi if he's closest

he plays as Chad and goes around doing the emotes

this is how he gets killed by Jason

As a camp counselor

Doesn't see the point of playing a weak human

nor is he all that interesting

but when he heard that you can try and kill Jason, he was all in

"I can take him in a fight" and actually win

when/if he gets to play Tommy Jarvis, he makes sure to end Jason

he doesn't do it so the humans win

he does it to get the satisfaction of killing whoever is playing the Jason character

As Jason

He can't help laughing manically when he's axed a player or when he can hear them or their character

he likes the cat-and-mouse game

he will let them run for a little

make them think they have lost him

and that's when he finally gets them and takes them out

he particularly loves when plays attempt to leave by boat

the Jason he chose is excellent in the water and he always manages to get them

has lost a few games because of Yuji outsmarting him

As a camp counselor

Somehow when he plays, he never gets to be a counselor

That's some kind of luck that he's got that he's Jason every round he plays

This might be why he never gets invited to play often

As Jason

he's ruthless

knows how to use Jason's abilities a little too well

he toys with the other players when he's hunting them down

somehow manages to kill all of the players before time runs out

As a camp counselor

"I can take him in a fight, no problem" ends up dying as he realizes that he cannot take Jason in a fight

also his baseball bat snapped in half after a few uses, leading to his downfall

he prefers to use the buddy system after that

As Jason

It is rare if he ever gets to be Jason

when he does, he looks everywhere for the other players

he doesn't take it too seriously

the game is just for fun after all

is a pretty good sport when he loses

whether that be from Jason being killed or his time runs out

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

SFW: Fluff, cuteness, comfort, interracial relationship, protective Satoru, established relationship, marriage, husband+wife, love conquers all.

⚠️WARNINGS: History, racial discrimination, racial slurs, mentions of racism, race relations, interracial marriage, foreigners, Imperialist Japan, isolationism, comfort women, Lucie Blackman, the Rape of Nanjing, rape, murder, sexual exploitation.

Prequel: Gojo Takes a Wife (also on AO3).

Footnotes on AO3

“They are disgusting.”

…

“All she wants from you is a green card.”

…

“You sellout. You married a white dog.”

…

“Wouldn't you rather date someone of your own race?”

…

Satoru took his time reading the insults underneath the enlarged black and white photographs, snorting at one couple’s caption, “Let me know if you need a bigger dick.” The portrait showed an asian man and a white woman holding hands, their faces unsmiling. How absurd. Only an insecure loser with a tiny penis would say something that stupid. He then looked to his right to see another photograph of a white woman wearing a sari next to her husband, maybe Indian or Bangladeshi, with their young son. “I hope he is born with a turban on,” it read “I hope he is born with STD's.” Okay, that one had him cringing. Yikes.

Donna Pinckley was an American photographer whose work mainly focused on racial issues within the American South. Her most famous project “Sticks and Stones” had garnered worldwide attention and had officially made its Japanese debut in Tokyo. In each photograph she would have an interracial couple stand in the center and underneath would have them write disparaging comments they had received from someone in real life. “I want the viewer to look at the portrait first and then look down and see the writing,” Pinckley explained. “I want them to see how beautiful and how much they love each other first.”

Kumari and Ichiro had already toured the gallery earlier that week and had told Hannah all about it, insisting she go. So for the last few days his wife had been begging him to take her. “It’s important we see it, Satoru,” were her exact words. “Please?”

Important? Well, how could he argue with that? Happy wife, happy life, right? He decided to take her on St. Valentine's Day, fittingly enough, but apparently he wasn’t the only one.

Satoru looked around the gallery to see the many newcomers; an Iranian man linked arm-in-arm with a Korean women, speaking to her in a mix between English and Persian; A Chinese woman and her Vietnamese girlfriend snapping a cute pic together on a bench near the drinking fountain; An elderly Japanese husband lovingly zipping his French wife’s coat, her hands painfully bent with arthritis, before they both journeyed back outside in the cold. All of them had come to see Pinckley’s work. Perhaps as a mark of solidarity.

As it were, Japan was a largely homogenous country, meaning most people formed friendships, worked together with, and married other Japanese. In Tokyo the chances of running into a foreigner were higher than most, but slim. Satoru could recall on multiple occasions when he’d been mistaken for a foreigner, with his striking blue eyes and snow white hair. That’s usually how people envisioned gaijin; someone of Caucasian or European descent; fair skin, blue eyes, light colored hair. Anyone a shade darker, a kokujin, might (but very seldom) be met with suspicion or open hostility. The subject made Satoru curious and not long after he was married, he had begun reading about gaijin baseball players and what it was like playing in Japan during the 80’s and early 90’s.

Their experiences were not always positive.

Leron Lee was a gifted baseball prodigy from sunny Sacramento, California. Shortly after high school, he was scouted by the St. Louis Cardinals, later making his Major League debut with the Redbirds at age 21. Things seemed great at the start. The Major Leagues were seen as the epitome of baseball, except Lee was confronted with an unexpected problem. He kept getting traded and the coaches continuously benched him. Why? Because there was always someone better, faster, or stronger to place in the starting lineup, and as a result Lee had gotten kicked to the curb. It reached the point where he was receiving little to no playing time, and make no mistake, Lee wanted to play. So he took a gamble, and after eight seasons playing baseball in the U.S, 29 year old Lee grabbed his passport and boarded a plane for Kawasaki, Japan to join the Lotte Orions’ organization.

His debut season in 1977 as an Orion was met with huge success, leading the entire league with 34 home runs and 109 RBIs, but Lee would soon face a second problem. The Nippon Professional Baseball league did not want their star player to be a black man, so as to maintain the “Japaneseness” of the league, as they put it. After winning the batting title in 1980. “Only five people in the Lotte organization congratulated me, “ Lee would go on to say. “The following spring when they gave me my silver bat for being the batting champion, they did it in the clubhouse. No presentation at home plate in front of the fans. They just handed it to me. They seemed ashamed.” This, and the hurl of racial epithets the drunken crowds would fling at him whenever Lee struck out or made a bad play. Any sense of complaining was taken as a show of weakness. In all his years donning the Orion’s uniform, Lee would receive no brand endorsements and had to pay for his own equipment out of pocket. Nevermind that he was one of the few gaijin players who bothered to master the Japanese language while taking considerable salary cuts. Not even his white teammates did that.

It wasn’t all bad of course. Despite these setbacks, Lee liked living in Japan and had no regrets about moving there. He even invited his younger brother to play in the NPB for a short time. (It’s worth noting that Lee also married outside his race; a Japanese woman who once served as his translator. They would go on to have two children together, both girls).

Since his retirement in 1987, a lot had changed in the NPB and how they treated their gaijin players, but that same attitude couldn't be said about Japan’s views on foreigners as a whole (at least not yet).

In 2000, the disappearance and horrendous murder of Lucie Blackman would make front page news on practically every Japanese outlet, and the world, bringing down one of the country’s most infamous serial rapists in the process. Lucie Blackman, an English national and former flight attendant, arrived in Tokyo during the summer of 2000. To make a little extra money, she and a friend each got gigs working as hostesses for a Roppongi nightclub, a job that was similar to a modern day geisha, albeit with less elegance, but less degrading than stripping (or prostitution for that matter, which is still illegal). Many foreign women, most traveling on tourist visas, would take hostessing jobs. Ostensibly, they were hired to entice men inside the club and have them order as many rounds as possible. This also provided a not so subtle way for Japanese men to strike conversation and interact with foreign women, especially white women. A natural blonde with long legs and blue eyes, Lucie Blackman exotic beauty surely wetted many men’s appetites and caught the attention of unwanted admirers. One of whom would be her rapist and killer.

Under the law, it was illegal to work in Japan with only a tourist visa, leaving many foreign women vulnerable to exploitation and blackmail. Such was the case with Lucie Blackman, and because she was a foreigner, her disappearance wasn’t taken seriously at first, but when the British Embassy got word, the story caused a considerable uproar back home in England. Where is Lucie? Who could've done this? Why aren’t the Japanese authorities doing more? Is she even alive?

It wouldn’t be until the following year, February 9, 2001, that her body was recovered. Autopsy showed that Lucie had been drugged and repeatedly raped, before being viciously murdered. Once dead, her body had been hacked to pieces and left inside a cave encased in concrete. Obara Joji, a wealthy businessman, and frequent visitor of many foreign-filled nightclubs, was charged of rape and manslaughter and sentenced to life imprisonment. However, despite swaths of evidence, prosecutors could not prove without a reasonable doubt that Obara was Lucie’s killer. Investigators would later find that not only had Obara likely raped Lucie Blackman, but possibly more than a hundred other foreign women for almost a decade without being caught. All of them, hostesses. Most of them, white.

Lucie’s tragic murder brought to light many atrocities involving foreign women and the Japanese hostess industry. However, the real questions on everyone’s mind were these: Why was her disappearance not taken seriously from the beginning? And how did a man, who had been arrested previously on charges of sexual assault, manage to get away with drugging and rapping innocent women for nearly ten years? Satoru didn’t have an answer. Thankfully, progress was being made. “Human trafficking” was now part of the Japanese lexicon and most people were very welcoming of foreigners regardless of race or nationality, especially ones like Hannah who knew the language and were respectful of the culture, but every now and then you’d encounter some right-wing kook who believed every outlandish conspiracy the Sankei Shimbun wrote, and brought it upon themselves to ruin life for everybody. Satoru wouldn’t forget the day he witnessed that reality for himself, and not at the hands of the jujutsu elite.

It was November, 2015. Hannah wanted to go for a late breakfast in Tokyo, and between teaching and missions, Satoru greatly favored the idea. It had been a while since he had spent time with his wife. So, he chose a restaurant neither of them had visited before, but unbeknownst to them, the restaurant was run by a certain…group of people.

“Sorry, your girlfriend can’t come in here.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed at the wrinkly old man guarding the entrance. “She’s not my girlfriend, gramps. Mind telling me why my wife can’t come in?”

The man drew a puff from his cigarette and tapped on a sign placed near the doorway.

NO FOREIGNERS ALLOWED.

Satoru’s glare worsened. “What if she’s not a foreigner?”

The old man gave a chortling laugh and spat at the ground. “If she wasn’t born here, she’s a foreigner. Plain and simple.”

That riled Satoru’s anger.

“The hell? How is that even legal?”

“Hey, twerp. Don’t look at me,” the man said, showing him his hands. “I just do what I’m told. It’s not my job to make the rules. Only follow them.”

“What did you just call me, old man?”

Satoru took a threatening step forward, heatedly removing his glasses to reveal his glacial blue eyes.

Hannah, wishing to avoid conflict, quickly grabbed Satoru’s arm and got between him and the old man, bowing deeply.

“Please excuse my husband’s rudeness and for informing us of the rules. We will take our leave now. Have a nice day.”

Her Japanese was flawless as she said it. No accent or mispronunciation to be had. Absolute perfection. Even the old man seemed visibly impressed, but didn’t dare voice it out loud and breathed out another puff from his cigarette.

Satoru was still fuming about it as they walked hand in hand down the street.

“‘No foreigners allowed?’ That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. Why has no one notified their representative? If it were me, I would’ve taught that guy a lesson or phoned a lawyer. How’re you not mad?”

“He was simply doing his job, Satoru. I’m sure he’s not like that outside of work.”

Satoru abruptly stopped walking and tugged his wife’s hand, pulling her to him so they were facing each other. He hadn’t put his glasses back on.

“That’s not an excuse, Hannah.” He veered her off to the side and cupped her flushed cheeks, speaking tenderly. “The sun and moon cannot light up a crooked hole. This is your home — Heck, you voted in the election for cryin’ out loud, and your Japanese is better than most. You’re not an outsider.” His forehead connected to hers, tracing her lips with his thumb. “Not to me.”

Gojo Hannah offered him a sad smile. The kind that said, ‘I sympathize with you wholeheartedly, but I’ll say nothing more on the matter.’ With deft fingers, she reached up to rewrap the tartan red scarf around his neck - a birthday present she had gifted him last year - and stood on her tippy toes to give him a reassuring kiss.

“Come on then, you big sod, let’s go to Jade5. I remember how much we liked their pancakes.”

Hannah was willing to forgive and forget the whole encounter ever happened.

Satoru, not so much.

That was the only time his wife had ever been denied access somewhere for being a foreigner, but the Six Eyes wielder was no fool. He knew his country was not a garden full of cherry trees. The old isolationist mindset had not vanished off these shores. While it may not have profited off a global slave trade, or segregated whites from blacks, Japan was not without sins. She had committed heinous crimes in the past. Ask the Koreans how their women were treated in the midst of Japanese occupation. Or the Chinese when the Imperial Army laid siege upon Nanjing. Their contempt wasn't without justifiable cause. And with that came national and ethnic animosity on both sides. Still, to this day.

Satoru had learned much since becoming a married man. Although, that didn’t make him ‘colorblind’ of the situation. Colorblind, he thought. What a half-baked idea. While it was likely drawn from good intent, Satoru saw nothing wrong with pointing out someone’s physical characteristics. It only became an issue when it was used as a vehicle for discrimination. Hannah was English-European. She had auburn hair, hazel eyes, fair skin, and a faint dusting of freckles. She was clearly foreign, anyone with eyes could see that, but it didn’t prompt Satoru to go up to people and say, “Sorry, folks. This is a decoy. I leave my Japanese wife at home to do the cleaning.” No. Hannah was his wife, his one and only. If people didn’t like it, then that was their problem. And to be perfectly clear, most held zero qualms about their relationship. They had more prescient matters on their minds like global warming, the suicide rate, or the aging population.

Having enough of his musings, Satoru stopped skimming the rows of photographs and looked around the art gallery for his wife. He saw her standing down the hall in front of a portrait; a white man and his Japanese fiance.

“They're like us, Satoru,” she said as he came to join her.

“Yeah.” He wrapped an arm around his bride and held her close. “They sure are.”

Those idiots could cast their sticks and stones all they liked.

Their love was stronger than their hate.

[rmorde]

Just... what if Wasuke actively encouraged Yuji to take up sports seriously? Asked him to become a famous player beloved by everyone. Then in turn, Yuji uses his fame and fortune to help anyone in need. In that way, he won't die sad and alone.

Yuji becoming a baseball superstar. A beloved celebrity always under public scrutiny. He has no time to get involved with sorcery. His mother considered as Public Enemy #1 courtesy of the only one interview the athlete's grandfather had ever given.

Yuji is so popular and Todo just absolutely loves him. Has every merch of his collected and all his interviews, game show appearances, and games recorded. Todo has a giant poster of Yuji alongside Takada. He practically worships him just as he does with Takada.

One time, Takada and Yuji starred in a commercial together and collab in a sports fashion apparel. Todo almost exploded in absolute #1 fan bliss.

Todo loves to talk about his celebrity obsession. No one really likes it. Mai tolerates it tho and so does Mechamaru once he figured out that Yuji/Takada are to Todo as mecha anime are to him.

Todo, Mai, and Mechamaru eventually sort of built a weird Yuji/Takada club in school. They even have a shrine and a ritual. They actually make Utahime a tiny bit concerned.

This club would provide wacky and shockingly effective therapy sessions for Mai and Kokichi because while Todo is really really weird... the guy has genius level of EQ. He is still extremely embarrassing as a friend tho.

He is a fucking terrible wing man for Kokichi. His enthusiasm in roping Mai to more Takada events is starting to feel like poor boisterous "shipping" attempts.

Mai and Kokichi often commiserates together the weirdness and creativity of Todo's imagination. But, they like him all the same for it.

Anyway, this "fan" club is crucial because through it Kokichi realizes that betraying them would do him no good. However, he gets stuck in a dangerous situation because "Geto" and his allies knew where exactly his real body is. They can easily kill him if he refuses their proposition to work together.

So, the best Kokichi can do is still work as a double agent. He tries his best to create some leeway in the Binding Vow to warn Mai and Todo. He promises to do his best and survive the entire ordeal somehow.

October 31st is going to be eventful. It is the date set for Gojo's sealing in Shibuya. It is also the same date for Takada's mini-concert with Yuji as a featured guest.

[tempenensis]

Yoo lele

Do u think gojo woulda been a baseball player🥰

Uh, could be. But baseball is highly popular in japan, like it's the most common sport to be played in school and such. He at least seems pretty well versed when he becomes a referee in the baseball game at the end of Kyoto exchange meeting arc