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lightdancingwords · 1 month ago

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Crossroads of the Heart - Part Thirty-One of ?

Pairings: CJ Braxton x Y/N Female reader

Series Summary: Y/N is a psychology major assigned to shadow CJ at The Stand, unaware he's the one who basically saved her life four years before. CJ is unaware that she's the one who left a notable impact on him over the phone four years ago. As they navigate the work at The Stand, they develop a spark that demands revelation and connection.

Word Count: 4,157

Tags/Warnings: Some 18+ implied smut, fluff, and angst!

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Note: Wow! Thirty-One chapters and I feel like I barely started! Haha! Never fear, it'll keep going for now!

Dividers: credit to @saradika-graphics

Chapter Thirty-One: The Graduation

The morning sunlight poured in through the tall office windows at The Stand, stretching across CJ’s desk in lazy streaks of gold. A soft breeze stirred the corner of a stack of forms he had yet to sign, and somewhere down the hall, a phone rang, followed by a voice he immediately recognized—Gabby.

She was laughing. Loud. Possibly at Miles. Probably at CJ’s expense. CJ closed his laptop slowly and leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

It’s almost here.

Y/N’s graduation. After everything she’d pushed through—her practicum, her final exams, late nights, early mornings, and the emotional gauntlet of learning how to be a voice in the dark for strangers—she was about to graduate.

He’d never been prouder of anyone in his life. And that meant… he had to do something about it. Something meaningful. Something she wouldn’t expect. Something celebratory. Which brought him—unfortunately—to one conclusion. Gabby.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t have to. She was on the call floor, standing on the arm of her chair like she was about to deliver a TED Talk with a donut in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Gabby,” CJ said, calmly but firmly.

She whirled. “Yes, my liege?”

He blinked. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“Copy that. What’s up, Captain Authority?”

CJ exhaled through his nose. “I need your help. And I already know I’ll regret asking, but… here we are.”

Gabby grinned, hopping down and landing with a bounce. “I love where this is going. Continue.”

“It’s Y/N’s graduation,” he said, voice quieter, more serious. “I want to plan something for her. A surprise. Something simple, but… thoughtful.”

Gabby’s eyes lit up instantly, and she gasped dramatically. “You came to me for event planning? Oh, CJ, how far you’ve come. Next thing I know you’ll be asking me to coordinate your wedding playlist.”

He stared. “This isn’t a power grab. I just know she’d appreciate your flair.”

Gabby clasped her hands to her heart like he’d just read her a love letter. “You want me to make her graduation celebration perfect?”

“I want you to help me make it special,” he said. “She’s worked hard. She deserves to feel seen.”

Gabby sobered slightly, the grin softening into something more sincere. “She does,” she agreed, nodding. “And don’t worry. I’ve got ideas. Not goat-in-a-flower-crown ideas, I promise. Just good, wholesome, possibly slightly glittery ones.”

CJ ran a hand through his hair. “I’m trusting you.”

She patted his arm. “That was your first mistake, but a noble one.”

As she practically skipped off, already texting herself notes, CJ leaned against the doorway and sighed. He would regret this. But Y/N? She’d smile. And that made it worth every glitter bomb Gabby was probably about to order.

CJ was still in the hallway, half-reconsidering his life choices, when he heard a dry voice from behind him—calm, flat, and edged with the exact kind of sarcasm that always made him want to sigh.

“That was… bold.”

He turned. Of course.

Miles leaned against the corner just outside the server room, coffee in hand, expression as unreadable as ever. The kind of face you’d see at a poker table, except he wasn’t bluffing—he was always like this.

CJ raised a brow. “Eavesdropping now?”

Miles shrugged. “You asked Gabby to help plan something.”

“It’s for Y/N,” CJ said simply, like that alone explained the madness. And really, it did.

Miles took a slow sip of coffee. “Still. You volunteered for Gabby to be involved in logistics. That’s not just bold. That’s reckless. That’s…” he tilted his head, “somewhere between heroic and suicidal.”

CJ rubbed the back of his neck. “I figured the risk of glitter was worth the end result.”

“You say that now,” Miles muttered. “Wait until she asks for your measurements for ‘graduation celebration costumes.’”

CJ grimaced. “Don’t joke.”

“I’m not.”

There was a beat of silence as CJ looked down the hallway, already wondering if there was a way to subtly veto anything involving props, choreographed dances, or surprise serenades.

“She’ll keep it together,” he said, less to Miles and more to himself. “Probably.”

Miles gave a single slow blink. “You’re engaged to one of the most grounded, thoughtful women in this building.”

CJ nodded.

“And you just handed celebration responsibilities to a human confetti cannon with no sense of volume control.”

CJ exhaled. “Y/N will love it.”

Miles paused. Then, just quietly, “Yeah. She will.”

CJ gave him a sideways glance. “You like her.”

Miles didn’t answer right away. Just took another sip of coffee and stared down the hallway in the direction Gabby had vanished. “She makes things louder,” he said at last. “But… she makes things better.”

CJ’s mouth twitched. “And you’re willing to tolerate noise for that?”

Miles smirked, faintly. “You’re throwing a glitter-filled party. You tell me.”

They both stood there, silent for a moment—two very different men who had somehow found themselves caught in love with the loudest, most unpredictable, most brilliant women in the building.

Brave. Stupid. Absolutely doomed.

And they wouldn’t change a thing.

The morning sun rose soft and golden over the city, as if it, too, knew this Saturday was meant for something special.

CJ stood near the end of a long line of folding chairs, tucked beneath a white canopy stretched across the university’s main quad. He wore a dark blazer over a slate-gray shirt, clean and simple—but somehow he still looked like he belonged in the front row of someone’s most important day.

He scanned the crowd once more. The graduation area buzzed with chatter, with families snapping photos, with laughter and nervous pacing and robes that trailed behind rushing students.

He spotted her immediately.

Y/N.

In her cap and gown, robe fluttering around her ankles, walking with a slight bounce in her step despite the weight of the ceremony. Despite the moment. Her name hadn’t even been called yet, but she glowed. She was light. She was everything.

CJ’s heart did something strange and overwhelming in his chest. He’d never seen someone so radiant just by being.

Behind him, Gabby was adjusting her sunglasses and fanning herself with the printed program, despite the fact that the day was only mild. She elbowed Priya. “I give it ten minutes before CJ bursts into tears. Or spontaneously proposes again just because she exists.”

“I can hear you,” CJ muttered without taking his eyes off the stage.

Miles stood beside Gabby, hands in his pockets, entirely too calm for someone dragged out of bed early on a Saturday. “She looks happy,” he said simply.

Gabby smiled and leaned into him slightly. “She is.”

CJ didn’t speak. He was too focused.

As Y/N crossed the back of the stage with her group, he caught the moment she looked into the crowd—and saw them. Her people. The ones from The Stand. Her friends, her coworkers, her family.

Her eyes found him almost instantly. CJ raised two fingers in a small, subtle wave. Not flashy. Not over the top. Just theirs. And the way her face softened, the way her lips parted in surprise and joy—it was everything.

When her name was finally called, CJ held his breath.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

She walked across the stage, steady and graceful, tassel swinging slightly. She shook hands. She smiled wide. And in that moment, CJ swore he could feel her joy like a pulse in the air.

When she turned her head toward the crowd again, diploma in hand, she didn’t wave. She looked straight at CJ. And nodded. Just once. As if to say, This is for me—but also for us.

CJ clapped—louder than anyone in their row—and so did the rest of the group. Gabby let out a whoop that turned heads, Priya smiled with the quiet pride of someone who had seen it all unfold, and even Miles gave a respectable, approving nod.

When the ceremony ended and the crowd dispersed, CJ was already moving. He found her near the edge of the lawn, still clutching her diploma, blinking at the people filtering around her. When she saw him, she didn’t hesitate.

She ran into his arms. CJ caught her, held her, lifted her just an inch off the ground. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered into her hair, breath catching. “You did it.”

She laughed, breathless, and held onto him like he was the center of everything. “No,” she whispered back. “We did.”

And CJ believed her. With every beat of his full, overflowing heart—he believed her.

CJ and Y/N stood in their own little orbit beneath the tree-lined edge of the quad, her diploma clutched in one hand, the other curled around the back of his neck. His forehead pressed to hers, his eyes bright, his smile unwavering.

They didn’t notice the crowd anymore. Not the distant drone of bagpipes from another ceremony, not the squeals of friends hugging, not the cameras flashing around them.

Just each other.

Until Gabby stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes, wide behind her sunglasses, locked on something—or someone—across the lawn. “Oh shit,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the breeze.

Priya followed her line of sight, her breath catching as her jaw tightened. “Is that—?”

Miles, not one for dramatics, actually froze, eyebrows lifted in quiet disbelief. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It is.”

Gabby slowly reached out and touched CJ’s arm, careful, like he was a live wire. “CJ…”

But he didn’t hear her. Not at first.

“CJ,” Priya said, more firmly, her voice a low warning.

And CJ turned. His eyes followed theirs. And landed on him.

Henry Y/L/N. Y/N’s father. Dressed neatly, unassuming, standing at the edge of the crowd with a small program in hand and a look that didn’t match the man CJ had spoken to before. He wasn’t tense. He wasn’t stern. He looked…

Lost.

Quiet. Present.

CJ’s back straightened immediately. The light in his eyes dimmed and shifted into something sharp. Protective instinct rose in him like a surge. His jaw clenched, his hands fisting at his sides before he even registered what he was doing.

Not here. Not today.

He stepped forward, ready to intercept, to remove—

But a hand caught his wrist. Soft. Steady. “CJ.”

Y/N’s voice.

He turned, and saw her looking past him. Her lips parted, eyes wide—not with panic. Not with fear. With stunned recognition.

Emotion flickered across her face like sunlight through clouds. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t crumbling either. Her breath was uneven, but she wasn’t distressed.

She was… uncertain. “I didn’t know he’d come,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. Her voice was quiet, tight with the kind of emotion that sat between old wounds and something resembling closure.

CJ didn’t let go of her hand, but he stopped moving forward. His eyes flicked to hers, searching. “You okay?” he asked, low.

Y/N nodded slowly. “I think so.” She paused. “I just… I didn’t expect this. I don’t know how I feel.”

Priya stepped a little closer, her presence grounding. Gabby stayed silent, hand resting on Miles’s arm for once not in jest, but in quiet support.

“He didn’t come to make a scene,” Y/N said. “Look at him.”

They all did.

Henry stood with both hands clasped in front of him, expression unreadable but not hard. Not bitter. There was something worn in his eyes. Something maybe—maybe—close to remorse.

Y/N took a breath, steadied herself, and stepped back into CJ’s side. “I’m not ready to talk to him. Not yet. But… I don’t want to pretend he’s not here.”

CJ’s hand found her waist again. He kissed her temple gently, eyes never leaving Henry. “Whatever you need. I’ve got you.”

She nodded, her body still pressed close to his.

Gabby whispered, “Do you want us to do something?”

“No,” Y/N said. “Let it be.”

They stood in silence for another moment as the crowd buzzed and shifted around them, and from across the lawn, Henry looked at Y/N one more time.

And then… he nodded. Small. Almost imperceptible. And turned to go. Y/N didn’t cry. But she did lean back into CJ a little more as Henry disappeared into the crowd. It wasn’t peace. It wasn’t forgiveness. But it was something.

And that was enough for today.

Gabby blinked once. Then twice.

And snapped out of the emotional fog like a firecracker lighting midair.

“Nope,” she said sharply, clapping her hands together once. “Absolutely not. We are not letting that little detour hijack the moment. This is Y/N’s day. Her graduation. We are not about to turn this into a Lifetime Movie called Daddy Issues and the Diploma.”

CJ blinked, startled. “Gabby—”

She raised a hand in his direction without even looking. “Hush, Heart-Eyes. I’m on a mission.”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, just a little broken, just a little shaken—and Gabby honed in on it like a hawk.

“Nope. None of that either,” she said, striding directly in front of Y/N with her hands on her hips, sunglasses perched on her head like a crown of war. “You just graduated. You’ve worked your ass off. You’ve spent years helping people, holding their pain, picking up every jagged little piece, and now it’s your turn.”

She leaned in closer, eyes bright. “This day is about you. Your joy. Your brilliance. Your ridiculously good taste in fiancés. So we’re going to celebrate, and you’re going to let us, and there will be no more near-tears unless they come from champagne or cake.”

Y/N blinked up at her, a stunned smile breaking across her face despite the emotions still swirling under the surface.

“God, I love you,” she murmured.

Gabby grinned. “I know. I’m amazing.”

Then she spun around on her heel and pointed at CJ. “You. Protective glare mode—off. We need happy CJ now. Go back to gazing at her like she’s the moon and you’re a wolf with a tragic backstory.”

CJ opened his mouth to retort. Then… thought better of it.

Priya finally laughed, covering her mouth as Gabby whirled on her next.

“You—help me get photos. Good lighting. Candid smiles. I want memories so good we’ll all cry when we print them.”

Priya nodded solemnly. “On it.”

Gabby turned to Miles. “You—carry the purse and look supportive.”

Miles didn’t even blink. “Fine. But I’m not smiling in group photos.”

“You never do, darling,” she said sweetly, patting his arm.

And then she looped her arm through Y/N’s and gave her a look so full of warmth and mischief it nearly unspooled the knot in Y/N’s chest entirely.

“Now, Queen of the Quad,” Gabby said, squeezing her hand. “Let’s go take the pictures you’ll frame forever. The ones you’ll look at when everything’s heavy and remember—you did this. And we were all here to celebrate you.”

Y/N swallowed hard, tears shining but not falling this time.

And she nodded.

Gabby led the way, bright and loud and relentless in her love—a wild storm with a purpose. She would not let grief steal one more inch of joy. Not today. Not for her girl.

The celebration was in full swing by the time CJ found her.

Gabby was in her element—glitter somehow subtly (or not-so-subtly) incorporated into the table centerpieces, a curated playlist thumping cheerfully in the background, and Y/N at the center of it all, laughing again, her eyes bright, her hand wrapped around CJ’s just enough to make his heart ache.

She’d come back to herself. And CJ knew exactly who to thank for that.

He found Gabby by the punch bowl, dramatically narrating to a pair of volunteers how she had to "singlehandedly rescue the emotional climax of the day with nothing but charm, volume, and emergency lip gloss."

He waited until the laughter faded and the volunteers wandered off, drinks in hand. Then he stepped up beside her. “Don’t make it weird,” he said, arms crossed casually. “But… thanks.”

Gabby blinked at him, theatrically offended. “I always make it weird. What exactly are you thanking me for, oh great and emotionally repressed one?”

CJ rolled his eyes, but there was something softer in his smile. “For today. For taking the reins. For snapping Y/N out of that moment when I—” he exhaled, “—when I wanted to take control. You knew exactly what she needed. And you gave it to her.”

Gabby’s smirk slipped into something gentler, something almost reverent. “She deserved that. She deserves everything.”

CJ nodded. “I know.”

He looked over at Y/N across the room—talking to Priya, animated and radiant again—and his voice dropped just enough to show the full weight of it.

“She’s my whole life,” he said. “And you made her smile again. You brought her back today, Gabby. So yeah. You’re a royal pain in my ass.”

Gabby grinned.

“But you’re also the one person I’ll never argue with about how to bring joy back into her world.”

She paused, eyebrows raised, hands on her hips. “Are you saying you’ll never question my event planning again?”

CJ sighed. “Don’t push it.”

She cackled, bumping his shoulder. “You’re welcome, you cranky, loyal golden retriever of a man.”

And though he groaned and walked away before she could say anything else, CJ smiled all the way back to Y/N. Because Gabby was loud, chaotic, meddling—and exactly what their circle needed.

Especially today.

When CJ returned to Y/N’s side, the party softened around them—voices fading into background music, twinkle lights glowing across the ceiling, laughter rising in warm bursts from the far side of the room.

Y/N looked up from her conversation with Priya just as CJ reached her, and when their eyes met, something flickered between them—familiar, certain, anchored.

He wrapped an arm around her waist without needing to say a word, and she leaned into his side like her body had been waiting for that exact moment of closeness. Her fingers brushed along his chest, a casual, grounding touch.

“Well?” she asked, smiling up at him. “Did Gabby threaten you into a conga line or emotional vulnerability?”

CJ huffed a quiet laugh. “Emotional vulnerability. Slightly worse.”

Y/N grinned. “She’s been on fire today.”

“She’s been… everything today,” he admitted. “But mostly, she made sure you got to enjoy this.”

Y/N’s expression shifted, softening. She glanced around the room—at the people who had shown up, who had stayed, who had celebrated her, even through the complicated moments. She looked back at CJ.

“I’m a graduate,” she murmured, a little breathless. “I’m engaged. My friends are amazing. You are amazing. My life is—”

“Yours,” CJ said gently. “It’s finally yours.”

She blinked, tears pooling but not falling. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is.”

He pulled her close, both arms around her now, their foreheads nearly touching. “I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life,” he said. “Not just for what you did today. But for how far you’ve come. For who you are. For the strength you carry—quietly, every day.”

She reached up and cradled his jaw, thumb brushing just beneath his cheekbone. “You helped me get here,” she said. “You saw me when I didn’t even see myself. I don’t forget that.”

“You did the work,” he murmured. “I just got lucky enough to be in your orbit.”

She kissed him, slow and sure, in the center of the celebration. Not a show. Not for anyone else. Just them. And when they pulled apart, the room shimmered around them again—filled with music and laughter and people they loved.

But this? This quiet space between them, wrapped in pride and promise? It was the true celebration. She had her degree. She had her future. She had him.

And her world had never felt so full.

Gabby was a vibrant, glittering storm of tipsy joy.

She danced through the edges of the celebration with a glass of champagne in one hand and her heels in the other, barefoot on the hardwood floor, twirling just a little too close to the drink table and nearly knocking over a plate of cupcakes in the process.

“You’re lucky I’m adorable,” she giggled, catching herself on the edge of a folding chair.

Miles was right behind her, steady as ever, catching her wrist before she could wobble again. “You’re something,” he muttered.

Gabby turned toward him, cheeks flushed, her smile wicked and warm. “Oh come on, you love it.”

“I tolerate it,” he said—too fast, too flat.

She blinked at him, then leaned in, her nose almost touching his. “No, you don’t. You love it. You love me.”

He hesitated. One breath. Two. Then he exhaled like a man surrendering everything he’d tried to hold back. And grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”

She blinked in surprise, barely keeping up as he tugged her down the hallway of the rented venue, past half-open doors and fading music. Before she could ask where they were going, he pulled her into a small supply closet and shut the door behind them.

“Miles?”

“I’ve been trying to be patient,” he said, his voice low, rough with restraint. “Trying to do the whole slow-burn thing. But you—Gabby, you drive me insane.”

He kissed her before she could answer, before she could laugh, before she could tease him again. It was hungry. Heated. Real. And Gabby—stunned, breathless—melted into him with a sigh of finally.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulled him closer, pressed against him like she'd been waiting for this exact moment.

What followed wasn’t slow or delicate. It was urgent. Needed. The kind of passion that came from months of glances and almosts and never-said-outlouds.

And when the door finally opened again, a little crooked on its hinges now, Gabby stepped out first, her dress askew, hair mussed, eyes sparkling.

She turned back to him with a smirk. “See? You do love me.”

Miles, flushed but composed, simply muttered, “You’re unbearable.”

She looped her arm through his as they rejoined the party. “And yet, here you are.”

He didn’t argue.

Because it was true.

And he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Y/N caught sight of them the moment they slipped back into the main room—Gabby radiant and flushed, her lipstick slightly smudged, her hair tousled in a way that was definitely not from dancing. Miles followed closely behind, shirt untucked, ears faintly pink, trying and failing to blend into the crowd as if no one would notice the very obvious shift in everything about him.

Y/N blinked.

Then she blinked again.

She turned slowly to CJ, wide-eyed, lips twitching. “Did I just… see what I think I saw?”

CJ didn’t even look. He just exhaled, dragged a hand down his face, and muttered, “Yes. Yes, you probably did.”

Y/N laughed—quiet, low, and sweet. The sound curled in her chest like warm honey, filled with the surprise and soft disbelief that came with witnessing something wildly chaotic… and unexpectedly beautiful.

“They’re so different,” she whispered, her gaze following the two of them as Gabby stole a cupcake and then fed Miles a bite of it, licking frosting off her thumb while he stood there stiff as ever, the tips of his ears glowing brighter by the second. “And yet… they work.”

CJ looked down at her, his smile crooked. “Somehow.”

She nestled into his side, her hand resting lightly over his heart. Her voice dropped into something more intimate, the world outside their little bubble fading again.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

CJ’s brow furrowed. “For what?”

“For trying to protect me. From my father. From the moment, the way it could’ve stolen today from me.” She tilted her face up, eyes glimmering. “You stepped forward the second you realized he was there. No hesitation. No fear.”

“I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And I love you for it.”

CJ bent and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there a beat longer than usual.

“I’ll always step forward for you,” he said quietly. “Every single time.”

Y/N’s fingers tightened in his. “And I’ll always be grateful you do.”

Together, they watched the party continue around them—friends talking, laughter rising, fairy lights twinkling overhead.

Gabby danced barefoot with frosting on her cheek, Miles hovering nearby like a man resigned to a whirlwind he adored. Priya chatted with one of the volunteers by the snack table, keeping an eye on everything like always.

And in the middle of it all stood Y/N and CJ—two people who had earned this joy, this celebration, this love.

Her diploma tucked into her bag.

His ring on her finger.

And their whole future stretched out in front of them—full of surprises, yes.

But always, always, full of love.

Tag List: @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick, @star-yawnznn, @hobby27, @hellsbratonthet

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Message me here! And check out the other story I’m writing!

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poppy5991 · 1 year ago

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Can we talk about how Hawks is a stressful internship preceptor lmao

Every other hero obviously has like a clear plan for teaching and Hawks has Tokoyami run ragged after him for like two weeks, then randomly teaches him something cool after hours one day without informing him in advance.

There is no plan here. He is not meeting the competency requirements. Tokoyami is having to stretch the truth when he submits his work reports to Aizawa. Hawks is probably the kind of preceptor who doesn’t submit any documents until the night before, causing Tokoyami immense stress. He is likely the kind of preceptor who tells you to write your own recommendation letter and he will sign it.

You know the one, if you’ve been in grad school. Super cool, awesome projects. A recommendation from them holds great weight. Absolutely immensely stressful bc you will be up at 11 pm the night before they are meant to submit your documents wondering if you might fail your practicum/internship requirement bc they forgot. You emailed them 3 times and they did not email back. They are out of office. Where are they??? The void???

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha memes #hawks #tokoyami fukimage #internship of darkness #mha headcanon

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n-body-problem · 9 months ago

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> 09.04 || first week of classes done!

- finished my hw early ：）i’ll need to go to office hours tmrw

- registered for a theater practicum class!

- job interview tmrw (wish me luck!)

- submitted my internal study abroad application and was accepted! now for more paper work…

- gave a preservation for my club for ~60 first years today and that was awful but also so cool :)

excited for the year!

#studyblr #nth post #studyspo

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lboogie1906 · 2 months ago

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State Senator Elvi Gray-Jackson (April 8, 1953) is the second African American woman elected to the Alaska state senate and the first African American to become Chair of the Senate. Born in Newark, New Jersey, she attended the Fashion Institute of Technology. She graduated with a BS in Accounting and Business Administration from the University of Alaska-Anchorage.

She worked for the Municipality of Anchorage Assembly at the Public Transit Department. She rose from Administrative Assistant to Director of the Budget and Legislative Services Office. She worked for Municipal Light and Power as Director of the Alaska Railbelt Energy Authority. She transitioned to Vice-Chair at the Municipality’s Cooperative Services Authority and as Chair.

She was elected to the Assembly where she rose to Vice-Chair and Chair. She made her bid for the Alaska State Senate to represent District I. She won the Senate seat in the general election with 60 percent of the votes, becoming the second African American woman to be elected to the Alaska state senate.

She sponsored Senate Bill 40 which passed on establishing February as Black History Month. She has been responsible for putting forth legislation to declare Juneteenth Day a statewide holiday while establishing Alaska Native Heritage Month, Women’s History Month, and LGBTQ Pride Month. She has introduced or supported bills that banned chokeholds and established a climate change commission. She serves as an active member of numerous legislative committees including the Community and Regional Affairs Committee, Labor and Commerce Committee, and Alternating Chair for the Select Committee on Legislative Ethics.

She is involved with several organizations and has been a guest speaker at the University of Alaska-Anchorage. She works with students on municipal hierarchy and budget issues. She has served twice as an agency supervisor for the social work practicum program. She received many awards and recognitions including the Women of Achievement Award.

She has one son. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

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wheredidthefloorgo · 2 months ago

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On the Strange Way Life Changes

This time last year, I was preparing to finish my Graduate Diploma. I was living in Montreal in campus housing. My room resembled a jail cell if I am being honest. I was working full time in my classes and part-time in my practicum work. I was getting ready to move at the end of April, and had just turned down a dream job of being a music therapist at the conservatory in Victoria.

I felt so unhappy and ill-at-ease with the relationship that I was in. I was engaged with the family so excited for the wedding to happen. I was so terrified that I was not living the life I was meant to. I didn't know how to break out of the cycles I knew I was in. So scared to change anything or take any risks. I longed for everything to become comfortable, but did not want to change my uncomfortable circumstances.

I had plans in the next year to get married, finish my Master's, have my thesis written, be living in Manitoba and thriving in a new job.

1 year later I sit now writing this post on a new blog I created in order to express myself more. I am nearing the end of the first year of my Master degree (which I split into two years due to my father dying). I look out the window of my music room/office where I write this to see trees, deer and turkeys outside. A bit of snow and an overcast sky in the small town I am completing my final practicum in. I am nearing the last leg of my work at an elementary school. In my kitchen a man is cooking me breakfast with groceries he just bought for my house this morning. I have a FaceTime call later with my beloved aunt and cousin in Vancouver.

I bought a car a couple months ago and now can visit my mother and brother anytime I wish. I get invited out by friends nearly once a week. I am taking voice lessons and am about to start a new job with the government in May that will pay well and add to my experience.

I think there have been times in my life where, because my vision of what i thought I wanted did not match reality, I counted it up to a failure. However, I am starting to accept there is so much that is out of my control in this life. If I aim instead to do my best, kindest, most well-informed functioning through my circumstances, I can actually learn to enjoy the unpredictability and surprises life ahs in store.

1 year can hold so many surprises. Reflecting on how different this last year turned out versus what I thought it would be makes me scared, a bit sad, but also so incredibly grateful and excited for what is coming next.

Life is so strange and yet so beautiful.

#personal essays #original writing #self reflection #journal entries #rambling #breakups #starting fresh #life is strange #have faith

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advocate-paresh-m-modi · 1 year ago

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thecandywrites · 1 year ago

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Monster March 2024 Day 7- Incubus/Succubus/Concubus-

The Lotus House- Clinic Practicum

Woo, sorry, been a busy day today. But I made it! So, this is, also a continuation from this prompt from last year. So here's Part 1.

As always, thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2024 prompt list. Enjoy

Monster March 2024- Day 7- Incubus/Succubus/Concubus-

The Lotus House- Continued-

Clinical Trials

Senora took a deep breath as she approached- what was to her- could either be- the biggest possible threat to her academic career, or could be her biggest ally. Or something in between. This was essentially a black grab bag of possibilities. Because for every approach there could be a thousand possible outcomes. She instead had tried to simplify the equation, down to two variables. Her,and the person behind that door.

Xorrax.

This was his favorite suite. Because on the other side of the back wall was Professor's Xeneth’s office. This suite was always given to Professor Xeneth’s favorite student. He found one every 3 years. Would usually hand pick the very best incubi student, who had the most potential. And that student would go from Student, to Master in any field after the student graduated, as the student was even given credit on Professor Xeneth’s research papers and thesis papers that were always groundbreaking. But Professor Xeneth didn’t have a class where they taught regular classes, because if they did, just about every student would be in attendance.

Xorrax was the favorite student and personal assistant to Professor Xeneth the Practicum Master who was the Head of the Clinical Committee who oversaw the Clinic as a whole.

Professor Xeneth however, was notoriously busy and always practically buried in paperwork, reviewing students in their performance reviews and exit exams from the Clinic Practicum. Professor was rumored to be quite old, cranky and had little to no patience to deal with bureaucratic bull shit or prima donna students. And was always said to be blunt, honest but fair in his reviews, but also, close to retirement. Professor Xeneth also, used Xorrax- to give any student who dared to become predatory- a clinical hour of their worst nightmares before they were escorted off the premises and banned from returning.

But Senora had noticed that the students who had willingly put Xorrax in their practicum curriculum early, and sought him out, usually excelled and aced through the course. Others saw him once a semester to help them make steady improvement. The ones that sought him out- practically gushed and beamed and praised that when it came to honest feedback, he was the best. But those who sought him out, hoping to bribe him into turning a blind eye to anything going on in the clinic or to take part in any scheme, was usually dealt with by Professor Xeneth himself who immediately launched investigations and used Xorrax to spearhead them and would be exposed on a school wide and community wide scale.

However, others did all they could to avoid Xorrax in the clinic altogether because the last thing they wanted was to open themselves up to his overly harsh criticisms or were usually the students who had something to hide. Plus, Xorrax had also built a reputation that- he liked to fuck his way through every female in the school, and specialized in students in the Bride Program and especially 3 C’s.

It was rumored that Xorrax could make even the most devout sexual abstaining nun into a whore in five minutes flat. It was also rumored that he personally investigated anyone and everyone who even hinted at one student who would have any romantic attachments to any other student. And do so, without ever having to oversee any sessions. They would just need to walk past him, and he’d practically sniff it out like a hound which is why Professor Xeneth used and protected him and basically let him have the whole clinic as his playground, until Xorrax would eventually age out, become either a doctor or a teacher in their own right.

Xorrax’s skills as a very powerful incubus were a class all their own. And all a student needed to do was be within his presence for 15 minutes and he would narrow down their biggest obstacles and biggest points of weakness. And that if the student worked on those, they would come out and improve their Student Overal Score by at least 50- 100 points, if not more.

Senora, didn’t need the help academically. But she did want an honest appraisal, which is why she was not surprised when- the moment her class was released to start to schedule in the clinic, all of the top students in her class had filled in Xorrax’s schedule. And she had been lucky to even get this spot the first week. And she did not want to schedule anything else until she met with him first. Xorrax, of course, always gave deference to the newest students, or the students earmarked for needed extra improvement. Which filled his schedule up.

And while he did spend, most of his time in the clinic- the man did have a home of his own. Where? She didn’t know. And all the details of his personal life were a mystery, just the way he liked them.

But Senora, just because she wasn’t in the Bride Program herself, she wanted Xorrax to treat her as if she was. Because she wanted to be honestly assessed, tested and proven so that she would know how best to proceed, she thought of herself as a pretty well rounded student, but she still felt she needed a fresh pair of well trained and experienced eyes to really see her and her abilities as they were to give her a better understanding of herself and something of a baseline going forward.

She had spent the last year, both preparing for the clinic, but also doing research on her own and had tracked down any and every student she could who had had sessions with Xorrax. All with varying degrees of success and every single one having a slightly different experience, but all of them, admitting that he didn’t give them what they wanted, but what they needed.

But Senora, also, wanted to meet this Xorrax- head on. And get the one thing she wanted more than a sexual release. She wanted an honest appraisal of herself as a student. And that could only be given if she was really seen as she was. And the one looking- really saw her as she was.

She knocked and heard a deep, and practically velvety voice answer.

“Enter.” Xorrax answered before she did and simply stepped into the room and closed the door and waited. She was surprised when it didn’t look all that different from any other standard room. Most students, who got released into the clinic- liked certain styles of certain wings of the clinic. Others wanted it to be as bright and colorful as they were, yet others, wanted as close to a medical clinic as it could be.

But this was as plain and generic as it could be. The perfect canvas.

“Correct.” Xorrax praised from the shadowy corner where he was seeing her and sensing her.

“Why?” Senora asked as she continued to appraise the room instead of looking into the dark corner where she had heard his voice come from.

Although, if his skills were as good as his reputation built them up to be, he could practically make a room out of nothing and have a session without ever touching his partner, for how quickly and easily he could get into his partner’s head and manipulate them.

“However, I am curious as to how you came to the conclusion that the room is a blank canvas.” He prodded curiously from a different corner as Senora simply grinned but instead had walked around the bed in the middle of the room, as if she was appreciating an art piece in a museum.

“You’re an artist. Every woman in Dorierra is supposed to be a work of art- either in the making or already finished. And a blank canvas is just a way for her to expand her own work of art. But in this setting. It could either show the art in all it’s glory, or have it put under a microscope and scrutinized and judged and picked apart for its flaws. Besides, the best lovers simply mirror the love of a beloved. However, a mirror only works if the art is under the right light. Too harsh- and the lighting damages the pigment, makes certain colors fade or wash out and the art itself depreciates, not enough- it’s just a blob of barely deciphered color in the shadows.” Senora offered as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror on the wall before she simply moved to the bed to appreciate the ever changing inkblot art on the wall.

She could feel him poke and prod her mind by changing the art, trying to find something she would like, something that she would see an image of something in. As the ink itself changed colors, seemingly at random as he seemed to be dialing her in but she did what she was advised to do- keep her mind free and clear, let things flow like a gentle breeze or a small stream in a forest. Don’t hold onto anything because whatever you tried to hold onto, Xorrax would take. Whatever you tried to hide, he would find. So, she didn’t hide anything. She didn’t hold onto anything either. Not even Xorrax.

“Interesting.” Xorrax hummed, as if pondering the merits of her theory.

“But that is just my opinion, and not the truth. So will you tell me the truth or will you simply have me believing my own opinion as correct?” Senora asked.

“Well your opinion is one of the better ones I’ve heard.” He mused.

“But it’s not the truth unless you say it is or it isn’t. I’m not one of those students who always has to be right or always has to win. But I am a curious one, who believes that a single truth should outweigh any number of opinions.” Senora urged.

“Yes you are. And it’s that quest for wanting to see everyone else for who they really are, and understanding the why- that drives you. It’s why you’re the top of your class. It’s why you’re a favorite of your teachers and among your other paired classes. Because you care about accepting your partner, as they fully are, it lulls them into a sense of vulnerability without the threat of exposure.” He seemed to recall, as if he had already done his research on her too.

“But, I also have learned that very few people are comfortable showing, much less being who they really are. Because of things like acceptance, or fear of rejection, or social norms, or attractiveness based on appearance, specifically the symmetry of their form.” Senora offered.

“Ah, so I see, someone has already used their cubi- powers to hide themselves from you. That’s why you’re so incessant on being truthful and getting the real and true picture of your partners. Such an approach has gotten you very far. But such an approach will burn you here in the clinic.” He predicted.

“How so?” Senora asked as her head tilted to the side curiously.

“In the clinic, very few are interested in being seen as they truly are. If they want such things, they go to a therapist, not to The Lotus House. The Lotus House is a proving ground, and a place for students to build their ability to change themselves to suit anyone and everyone else. The Lotus House is about teaching students to build the right illusion, while not losing themselves in their own illusion. There is a huge difference in being seen as you are, and being seen as you want to be seen as. And that’s what most truly want. And what they desire above all else. They want to slip into a fantasy where their faults don’t exist, that their flaws are minimal, that they’re attractive and that all the reasons they would ever have to be critical of themselves or loathe themselves don’t really matter.” He plainly, and rather cynically appraised.

“And that’s why the Bride System and 3 C’s produces individuals- capable of making any number of grooms believe such things.” Senora calmly concluded.

“Is that why you’re not in the program? Unable to swallow such things down with a smile?” He asked as Senora could almost sense him almost pacing behind her, staring into the back of her head and could almost feel his sarcastic, perhaps almost snarky smile in his almost sneering tone.

“That’s part of it.” Senora nodded.

“But you didn’t answer my question. Why is the room plain?” Senora redirected him as she cast a curious look over her shoulder to barely see a shadowy figure move out of her area of view as she resisted trying to follow the figure and simply turned and stared at the blank wall in front of her once the pictures on the wall seemed to settle on pretty pictures in appealing colors, which was her cue that he had already dialed her in to a degree.

“You were right, it is a blank canvas, but not for the student’s benefit. But for mine. I do like to think of myself as something of a piece of art in progress myself, but also part mirror, and part light and artist, all in one. I learn something from each piece of art that comes through that door. And a plain room is no different than a clean and clear artist gallery. Just open space and a series of lights, switches and dimmers and candles and lanterns to provide or hide any and all light needed or wanted. Some students come in, hoping I will find and expose their faults, others come in, hoping they will be able to hide whatever they want to from me- under their own school uniform. Others try to distract with their own brazen nakedness, in order to conceal their true vulnerability.” Xorrax expounded.

“It’s a shame that I only came in naked then. Simply wanting you to see all of me, as much or as little as you wish to see to give me an honest appraisal.” She offered with a smug smirk as she slipped the silken robe off of her shoulders to simply sit on the bed. Not sucking in, not posing, just simply sitting comfortably, even slouching a little as she simply focused on sitting comfortably.

“A naked subject is hardly an open book.” Xorrax practically scoffed.

“And an open book is hardly the whole story. You know as well as I do, that the writer can either add or take away as they see fit through various revisions. Or pages can be torn out, or glued together. Or the print can be faded. Or in an unknown language altogether.” Senora pointed out.

“So you came here for a philosophical debate? You’re better off meeting Professor Xeneth for that.” He almost taunted her. Was he having a bad day or something? Was he in a bad mood? Was he tired? Exhausted from the barrage of new new students in the clinic, all of them eager to have one on one time with him?

“No. I came to be honestly appraised by you. Not by Professor Xeneth. But, if you do refer me to Professor Xeneth, I would accept such a referral, but it was not why I came to you. I applied for this session with you. I specifically put on the session notes that I wanted an honest appraisal, which you already accepted. And I came naked, just in case that appraisal needed to be more intimate than just this conversation. I simply wish to see myself as I truly am. And I’m told no one is better with honest appraisal than you. That you can make even the most obsessive perfectionist or the worst lying charlatans see the truth of themselves. Surely you can do the same for me. I requested your professional assessment.” Senora maintained.

“So you’ve tried to do all the research you can- to prepare yourself for your session with me?” He posed.

“Well, while I do like to be prepared, I also try not to be convoluted either. I know I’m not the smartest student in class. I know I still have a lot to learn throughout my courses here at The Lotus House. I know that I don’t know everything, or know everyone. Nor do I wish to. All I’m looking for is understanding of myself. You are the personal assistant to the Head Clinic Practicum Master himself after all and are second only to him.” Senora appraised.

“I hear you’re working on another thesis with Professor Xeneth that will rock The Lotus House to the core once it’s eventually published, just like the last one did. That it will most likely, at the very least improve, if not- rewrite our curriculum and even change how we approach The Lotus House and sex in general. And that Professor Xeneth has used you to then use and test every student who has willingly walked through that door- as a test subject for their various theories. But while I won’t object to you testing any out on me, I am still waiting on my honest appraisal.” Senora offered.

“Then please slip your robe back on.” Xorrax insisted before she did and only a moment later, a stool seemed to appear before her before a white cane came out of the shadows, with a blind man holding it before he sat down. He was dressed really modestly. He was actually rather thin and almost frail and looked nothing like how he was usually perceived to look like.

“You are both surprised, yet smug in your perceived appearance of me.” He offered.

“You are cubi, a powerful one. One who can change everything about yourself to suit anyone else’s tastes. Usually when we lose one sense, the others grow stronger. If you are either naturally blind, or are simply choosing to appear to me- to be blind, that would account for your cubi powers to be dialed in and dialed up to an unimaginable maximum. But it would also account for the bare minimalist room. Less things for you to trip over in here, and less you have to worry about manipulating for your partner’s benefit, or the less potential there is for anything to happen to you as you would move about in here to interrupt the illusion.” She offered as she slipped the robe back onto her body to re-establish her modesty.

“Precisely.” He smiled.

“And it’s why you can hide in the shadows in the corners, and simply let your cubi- senses- sense the person who comes in here. And once you get into someone else’s head, you can see both yourself through their eyes, but also, themselves through their own eyes. And if you’re able to do that much, you probably don’t even have to physically touch them. It’s their own minds that do the rest.” Senora boldly mused.

“Correct.” He confirmed with another nod.

“But then again, this all could just be an illusion you put into my head too, to satisfy my own curiosity.” Senora realized.

“Perhaps. But you wanted honesty in your appraisal. And you wanted the truth as to why the room is plain. Which I am showing you, instead of telling you. So, since you are so ready to accept me in any form I wish to show myself to you in- even if it’s not the form you are expecting. I will do you the honor and the justice to give you what you have asked for. An honest and fair appraisal.” He began.

“Miss Senora, it is clear to me, that you could have sex with every student, regardless of gender in this school. And you could get perfect scores doing so. But there is a sense of comfort and safety that one carries when their true heart is held, protected, cared for and nurtured by another. And that is what you have - and it is how you have breezed through the pairings of the class. You have your true, inner heart- so securely cared for, loved, protected and shielded that it doesn’t matter what I or anyone else says or does. Nothing will change how you feel about your beloved, or how your beloved feels about you- no monogamous relationship needed. And it’s because you trust the person whose own heart you hold, just as carefully, just as securely, just as tenderly and just as protectively, that they look at the clinic as a trial by fire, but you and your love have made them fireproof as their love for you has made you fireproof in turn.” He calmly, and if anything, rather proudly appraised.

“That kind of love- and acceptance- is never going to be against the rules, or against anything that The Lotus House teaches and stands for. If anything, it’s what the Lotus House is geared towards. To help those who stay in Dorierra to have successful relationships, however they wish to quantify and qualify said success. It’s why you’re comfortable baring yourself as much as you are, because you have already bared yourself to your beloved and he has already accepted all of your true self and your true heart as much as you have accepted him in turn and you both wear such affections like a suit of armor. You have already understood that there can be a difference between physical, mental, emotional and psychological fidelity or infidelity. And you are simply waiting to weather the Clinical Practicum Trials, no matter how they would test you- either by a trial of fire or a trial of flower petals.” He appraised as the very fire he was speaking of seemed to alight from his staff, and the very flower petals seemed to fall about them like snow before disappearing a moment after.

“You have already won the war, whereas others have yet to really fight their first battles, because you have been honest and humble with yourself first.” He honestly appraised with a fond grin.

“ Is my beloved that obvious to you?” Senora asked curiously, because she thought she had done a good job of neither hiding Volron nor showing him off in her mind.

“Oh yes. Because while you tried to hide yourself in plain sight. I still can’t help but see him when I’m looking in the background of your mind, the truth plainly plays out in your subconscious. Everyone’s inner mind is like a physical place. Different thoughts are like phantoms of either people or structures. And you hid Volron in plain sight, all around you as you would be with him both in memory and fantasy. However, to the untrained eye, he would have blended into the background perfectly and had practically been invisible. You worked very hard and were very good in making sure there was only ever one of him at a time. Never more than one at any one time, just like no one in the real world is ever in more than one physical place at a time. Some people, when they try to hide who they don’t want me to see, I see copies of them everywhere all at once and it’s like I see nothing but them, others try to lock their secrets into safes while the code is practically stamped on their foreheads.” He chuckled with a subtle shake of his head.

“But, with you, what I see in the distance, where you imagine yourself being one day, is not your graduation, or even, your wedding day or the birth of your first child with Volron. But simply, what you imagine him and yourself being one day- a pair of old people, walking side by side, hand in hand, your tails wrapped around the other as they trail behind you. It’s adorable. And what’s even more adorable, is his version of you is the same in his own mind. It’s his fantasy that he uses to soothe himself after every clinical hour he puts in here. And it is quite adorable. And I don’t even need to be in a session with him to see it. But don’t worry. He will not get in trouble, and neither will you. If anything, he is a better man for his true loyalty to you. You want to be a counselor. And there is nothing in your way of achieving that., and all he wants is to make you happy, and there is nothing but his own fear at being found out in his own way.” He offered with a nod of approval.

“You are otherwise, a pretty well rounded student, academically, you’re obviously, top of your class, but you are not desperate to stay at the top of the class academically, like some of your fellow students. My only caution to you is to understand that the Clinic Practicum is all about illusion and fantasy. And that others that come into the Clinic are looking to escape into any number of fantasies, and they’re coming, looking for sexual release and to blow off excess steam with you and the other students in a safe and controlled environment. And your ‘I’ll show you all of me so you can show me all of you’ approach- while has it has helped you in practice between the paired classes, especially when you’re new and young and naive and still gaining experience and it forgives awkward fumbles. The Clinic is looking for smoothness in manners and self confidence and self assuredness. Your current approach can be quite dangerous. It’s far from unique and usually, at the beginning, it can boost your clinic session score, because it’s seen as ‘new’ and ‘individual’ and ‘refreshing’. It will however, get old. And once it gets old, suddenly your clinic practicum scores will plummit because either they grow bored, or they grow hungrier for that private, intimacy with you. It’s a great way to find a husband and settle down and having to test out of The Lotus House early, if that’s what you really want. But if you want to give yourself and this part of your education justice, it’s a dangerous disservice.” He warned.

“For one- it opens you up to the more emotionally needy clients who will drain you faster than a water hose left open on full blast. Two, you run the risk of more than just your Beloved falling in love with you and actually genuinely, romantically pursuing you and wanting to be romantically involved with you and only you because you’ve made the emotional involvement too easy to entangle yourself and themselves in. 3. It will absolutely jeopardize your relationship with your Beloved and it will be a test too far and it will break the relationship and bring out the worst in you both. And I would hate to see The Lotus House break up yet another happy couple, that could have been just fine, if no one had interfered.” He cautioned as he held up one of his hands to list them off.

“You need to stay in control of yourself and what happens and what transpires in the Clinic Practicum. Because if that power is given to your client instead of to you- the client is going to be greedy and take and take and take until you are empty and then they’re going to give you bad scores for being used up, which is not fair at all. There should be a little give and take during the session, yes. But you should not be the only one giving. Because, as I’m sure you’ve understood in your Dominatrix and Submissive classes, it’s the Submissive who is in real control. Always stay in control of yourself and the room during the session. And the only time that control should be given up- is in private, with your Beloved. No where else.” Xorrax offered.

“But that’s it. Otherwise you’re lovely, inside and out.” Xorrax grinned.

“Thank you Xorrax.” Senora thanked him.

“Professor Xeneth would like to meet with you. You will find your uniform in the changing room on the other side of this door to change to meet him formerly.” Xorrax offered before he stood and touched the light switch on the wall to reveal a truly blank room. The paintings, long since revealed to be nothing more than empty frames on the wall as he went to the door before he knocked a peculiar knock before he opened the door and showed her into the dressing room as she quickly changed into her regular uniform and once she was done, there was another knock on the other door.

“Yes?” She answered as she opened it to reveal Professor Xeneth on the other side.

“Yes Miss Senora, a pleasure to meet you. Dr. Zellora has given me quite the glowing review. You are one of her favorite students in this year’s class.” Professor Xeneth offered as he shook her hand and then showed her to a comfy chair on the other side of his desk before he walked around and sat down, her official student file on his desk as he was looking through it and reading it before there was another knock on one of the other doors to his office before Xorrox came in and went to his own desk- that was remarkably clear except for a tray of stamps, each with braille label.

Senora watched, rather in awe as Xorrox didn’t need a cane as he walked around the desk and sat down and used his sense of touch to find the right file in a filing cabinet next to his desk before he took the paper out and then used a special frame next to a special platform over the paper before he pressed a series of stamps into the paper before he got it back and put it onto Professor Xeneth’s desk before he touched Senora’s shoulder as she reached up and squeezed his hand over it and couldn’t help but smile fondly up at him, even though he was blind, and probably couldn’t see it but the mutual respect and fondness was still felt as she felt him fully disengage with her so he could engage with his next client in the next session.

“Well, Xorrax is yet another who has given you a glowing review. But a fair criticism nonetheless.” Professor Xeneth noted as she smiled at the various “stamps” that while they simply looked like strange symbols, were a language and held vast meanings.

“Xorrox has advised that you do an Accelerated Program in the Clinic Practicum.” He offered.

“What kind of Accelerated Program?” Senora asked.

“This kind.” Professor Xeneth said as he took the paper Xorrax had stamped and went to his own filing cabinet to get a copy of each of the worksheets and made sure he got at least two copies of each one before he put them into a neat stack on his desk before he put additional marks on Xorrax’s assessment.

“Now, in my professional opinion, I will second everything that Xorrax has admonished to you. But I wish to add one more thing. Usually what the student does not like, or- is an acquired taste, is usually what the student needs more of- to be well rounded. So, you will find two copies of each of these assignments. One is for you to use with any other student or client at your discretion. The other- will be an assignment, given by the Clinic Managers, for they usually know each of the classes and each of the students in those classes, better than their own teachers will, because we can not escape some form of favoritism and bias but the Managers have enough distance to be objective in said assignments. You can either choose to have the assignment first, and then have the joy of choosing the second. Or, use the choice to prepare you for the assignment. I have seen many students choose either- or, and have had success with both. Once you look at these assignments, you can decide.” Professor Xeneth noted as he wrote down which of the assignments were being assigned to her.

“Next, I want you to know that once you do these assignments, you will have satisfied the Clinic Practicum Requirements.”

“Wait, what?” Senora blinked in shock.

“What part of accelerated program do you not understand?” Professor Xeneth asked as he looked at her over the top of his glasses.

“I…I….I didn’t think it would be that accelerated.” Senora stuttered.

“Senora, you are young and your mind is still quite the sponge. You wish to be a Student Counselor here at The Lotus House. And you show amazing aptitude for it. And your ability to sympathize and empathize, and really understand others struggles in this program should really be nurtured and developed, especially while you’re still malleable. And doing the whole- normal clinical hour requirement, would be, honestly, a waste of your time. Sometimes, the longer you are in Clinic, while you gain experience, it drains your empathy and sympathy and can jade people a very ugly shade of green. And Xorrox, and I and the other staff do not wish for that to happen to you. You will still get plenty of experience. But with you not being in the Bride Program, and instead, still have a wonderful career in front of you. I don’t feel meaningless hours and exhausting, unneeded experience in the Clinic Practicum will help you with your ambition or your career. So, I am about to do, what very, very few students get to ever earn the right to do. Since you are in the accelerated program. If you will do this half of these assignments as assigned. I don’t care if you choose to do every other single one with the same student. Or if you choose to have every homework assignment done with the same partner from here on out. It will be allowed. Your career and your future should not be impeded by The Clinic Practicum, it should be supportive of it as well. And this accelerated rate- will see to it.” He added.

“So, allow this old man to offer a pre-emptive congratulations. Congratulations on passing the Clinical Practicum Trials.” He congratulated her as he handed her Xorrox’s assessment and the small, practically miniscule stack of assignments.

“What?” She asked as she took it and looked at the paper. According to the special paper- she had just done two years worth of clinical trials in a single session. She was still free to partake in the clinic if she wished to after the assignments were completed. But she otherwise aced it and- at the completion of these assignments would be considered graduated from the Clinic Practicum.

“Why?” Senora asked as she just stared at the pages in awed bewilderment.

“Because you cared enough to want to see the real Xorrax and were honest in showing him the real you. Even at great risk. The truth means everything to you, as does endurance of any and every trial. And such a noble endeavor deserves to be commended and supported.” He offered.

“So, Xorrax, really is blind? That was really him? That was the real him?” Senora asked.

“Yes. That was the real him. Doctor Xorrax- really is blind. But his phantoms can see just fine. And he uses his clients to be his eyes and ears for him as well. It’s what has made him an exceptional student and perfect for this role.” Professor Xeneth praised.

“He’s a doctor?” Senora asked.

“Yes, he just pretends to be a student. But that first thesis we put out? That was his doctorate thesis. And he is a scientist. It’s because he is blind that his cubi powers were enhanced to such a great degree that his work on a person’s subconscious- is how we can test to see if a student is really mentally mature enough for the Lotus House. It’s how he can investigate everything that he does. Because his cubi powers are practically superpowers, he is able to do everything that he does and more. You will actually be working quite closely with him from now on for he is instrumental in helping pair the right students to the right counselors and vice versa.” Professor Xeneth explained.

“You are an exceptional student Miss Senora. And you will make an excellent counselor. If you wish to continue to use the clinic you may- if you feel you need the experience, but otherwise, the sessions will not add to your already impeccable score. However, I suggest, having one last session outside of these assigned ones, with Volron. Using this. If he can do all that is specified on this paper in a single session, it will be his own exit exam from the clinic and he can be your only homework companion if you both wish him to be. He came into the Clinic Practicum, expecting it to be a trial by fire, he should leave it as a trial by flower petals, don’t you think?” Professor Xeneth offered one last piece of paper with Volron’s name and student number already written by Professor Xeneth on it.

“Thank you. Can I hug you?” She asked as she took it and couldn’t help but start crying tears of relief as both pieces of paper were more precious than anything she had ever held before.

“Of course.” He held out an arm as she came around and hugged him on the side and kissed the top of his head.

“Sorry.” She offered as she tried to wipe her tears from his hair.

“It’s ok. You’re not the first, nor will be the last to cry on me today. Go and enjoy the rest of your day, and leave out that door, you leave from this door and you’ll intrude on Xorrax. And I do not wish to court his ire.” He chuckled.

“Thank you!” She thanked him before she took the precious papers and left and she felt like she practically floated all the way up to front desk before she handed all the papers to the Clinic Manager for that wing who readily handed her the copies of her own private assignments back while earmarking the others that would need to be assigned as Dr. Oresha immediately knew who Senora should have for the assignments.

“Congratulations Senora.” The Clinic Manager- Dr. Oresha cooed as she happily hugged Senora once she was done and showed the students names written in pencil first to Senora who nodded her agreement to the assignments before Dr. Oresha wrote over them in ink to make them more permanent.

“Thank you.” Senora smiled and couldn’t stop smiling, or crying more tears of happiness. Most of her classmates, much less the other students, hadn’t even gotten through half of their sessions yet. But Senora happily flipped through the book and found Volron’s last open day and scheduled herself for the session with him. And knew it was going to be his exit exam from the clinc practicum. She got the other paperwork back and practically skipped through the halls to leave the clinic and practically floated back to her classroom where Dr. Zellora was in her classroom, grading papers in the school, so she didn’t have to bring them home and risk grading them there, and having any of her grandkids accidentally make a mess of them.

“Knock knock.” Senora said as she knocked on the door frame.

“Miss Senora! Hi! Come in, come in, tell me, how was Xorrax?” Dr. Zellora invited as she invited her student to come and pull up a chair next to her desk.

“You mean Dr. Xorrax don’t you?” Senora beamed with a bright smile before Dr. Zellora practically squealed in delight as her tail whipped and wiggled excitedly as Senora’s did as well.

“Oh you aced it! You aced it! I knew it! I’m so proud of you!” Dr. Zellora practically bounced her seat over to Senora to hug her tightly.

“Tell. Me. Everything. Right now!” Dr. Zellora gushed as she immediately put her papers to the side to turn to Senora so they could talk and gush about the experience.

“Holy shit, he showed you the real him? He showed you the cane? Aw, you really must have made him feel safe and secure enough for him to show you that. He’s so sweet and so nice. I mean, he can be a hard ass too. But that’s only to the students who try to pull a fast one. But to the truly meek, mild and humble? Oh he’s a dream. And his honest appraisal of you as a student is exactly what I was hoping for. It’s good but honest and fair. Now I do agree with Professor Zeneth’s advice as well. But once you go through the assignments, these choice ones will be not only a breeze, but a pleasure and a joy. And I agree, having you do the entire Clinic Practicum is not only- unwarranted but would be a waste of your time, but mostly a waste of your sympathy and empathy too. And you need to save as much of that for your future students as you can. You will still be getting all the Clinic Practicum you need to stay well rounded and stay well informed and well experienced. You should absolutely keep your focus on your studies and your career. And I know this will be one less thing for you to worry about in class. And one less distraction from your chosen career path. I’m so happy for you. Ok, so, tell me, do you have any ideas about this?” Dr. Zellora asked once she held up what was going to be Volron’s exit exam.

“Oh gosh, well it was encouraged that his clinic practicum has been a trial by fire so far, and it should end as a trial of flower petals.” Senora grinned.

“Well ok, so, how far do you want to take that?” Dr. Zellora asked.

“How far am I allowed to take it?” Senora asked.

“Oh Honey, I have had some students make their room a damn honeymoon suite. If it’s going to be both of your guys’ last time in the clinic. Make it the best session ever. Make it the best- last time together as students. Make it yours, make it his. Make it memorable. And a day and possibly night, he will never forget. But most importantly. Use any number of these room numbers.” She offered before she wrote down a series of room numbers.

“But that’s Dr. Xorrax’s wing.”

“Exactly. Dr. Xorrax only assigns those rooms to who he is watching and who he is investigating, or I’ve seen him use that whole wing, each with a phantom of himself in each one and able to keep all 12 rooms occupied and to the point that none of them knew they were ever in those rooms alone. And I know for a certainty that these, are otherwise, unused. Most students don’t even want to go down this hallway. So you’ll be able to make all kinds of noise and make all kinds of racket without an audience which is what the final practicum exit exam room has. And without interference. And the rooms are purposefully just as plain as his is. Make any of those rooms, your perfect canvas to create your perfect final piece of art. Enter that room as a student, and leave it as Volron’s beloved, loud and proud. Hell, you have my permission to leave it as his fiance if he is so inclined.” Dr. Zellora cooed schemingly as that seemed to make Senora blush and giggle and practically vibrate with happiness.

“Really?” Senora asked.

“Hey, the minute you check these check marks and sign here, he’s done. Make sure you sign before he proposes though.” Dr. Zellora urged.

“Ok.” Senora nodded in understanding.

“I have some shopping to do to prepare for this then.” Senora happily and giddily offered as she took it, carefully slipped them into a protective folder and into her backpack.

Off to tell her Beloved The Best News Ever.

#Monster March #Monster March 2024 #Monster March 2024 - Day 7- Incubus/Concubus/Succubus #The Lotus House

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atwooozi · 10 months ago

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gojo x oc

Chapter 14: Dumplings

summary: Ai navigates the pressures of her job and the complex relationships with her colleagues. As she waits for a meeting with the intimidating Director Yaga, she finds solace in Geto's photography.

genre: modern AU, slice of life, comedy, eventual romance, eventual smut, some angst

A/N:

I want to apologize for such a long gap in posting. Things got pretty busy on my end with the semester coming to a close and having to start up practicum. Things aren't so backloaded this time so I have more time to post hopefully.

Anyway, the song to go with this chapter is Last Summer Whisper by Anri

READ ON AO3

Sitting in the Hollow offices, Ai waited for Director Yaga to call her in for their meeting. He wanted to see where Ai and her team were in terms of the story. It was nice to have a break from having to follow Gojo around, but seeing her boss wasn't a much better alternative. She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes as she waited to be called.

“Tired?”

Ai opened her eyes slightly to see Geto take a seat next to her. She closed her eyes again and sighed. “You could say that.”

Geto chuckled and bumped her shoulder playfully. “Do you want to see some of the photos I developed?”

Ai took a moment before she opened her eyes again, sitting up straight. “Sure.”

Geto passed Ai the portfolio and she flipped through the glossy pages. While Ai wasn't necessarily a photography expert, she could see the energy in each snapshot. The activities were so mundane, yet Geto somehow transformed them into something extraordinary. There was a candidness to the shots that were just so captivating.

Ai was surprised by the way Geto captured Gojo’s playfulness in a simple photo. She ran her fingers delicately over the pages. The scenes he captured felt so real, so human. One photo showed Gojo interacting with his co-stars, laughing as he made shadow puppets against the wall of his dressing room. That day was so ordinary, but it showed a side of Gojo that people rarely get to see; his warmth and joy. This was the Gojo that Ai wanted to present to the rest of the world, and these photos were a testament to that depth.

“They're amazing, Geto,” Ai said as she flipped through the pages some more. “Your work is amazing…”

“Thank you,” Geto said with a prideful smile as he took the binder back. “How's writing going?”

Ai glared at the man, causing him to raise his hands in defense and laugh some more. She wasn’t sure if it was just her, but she felt that most writers hated it when people asked them how it was going. It just made her want to work less if she was being honest.

“Sorry,” Geto said with a small smirk playing on his lips.

Ai narrowed her eyes at Geto causing him to lean back in his seat and chuckle. “At least, someone did their homework.”

As Ai was about to open her mouth to give Geto a piece of her mind Director Yaga opened his door and looked to them both. “Come in,” he said gruffly before walking back inside.

Ai and Geto both stood up and filed their way inside the office, each taking a seat across from Yaga. Director Yaga’s office was… strange , to put it lightly. Sitting alongside various awards in journalism were handmade plush toys of various colors and sizes. No one who worked at Hollow dared to ask Yaga about the toys directly, but since the director didn’t have kids, people tried their best to come up with theories.

Geto glance around the office before taking his seat next to Ai. “This is an interesting collection of–” Ai pinched Geto’s side causing him to grimace and wear a strained smile. “I like your decor.” He muttered without saying much else.

“How's the profile going so far?” Yaga asked, thankfully ignoring Geto’s snark.

Geto glanced at Ai as if encouraging her to speak and she hesitated momentarily. “It's…It's coming together,” Ai said and gave a tight smile. “He's finally starting to open up.”

Yaga nodded as he listened. “Good, I skimmed over some of your notes…but you didn’t send any pages.”

Ai winced a bit but did her best to smile. “I just had a big breakthrough last night so I didn’t want to send you anything mediocre until I had Junpei look it over…?”

Ai smiled a bit more but looked down at her lap feeling some guilt spread through her chest. She had absolutely nothing written yet, but Yaga didn’t need to know that.

Yaga let his stare linger on Ai for a beat before turning his attention to Geto. She was safe for a day or two longer, hopefully.

“You're not really my concern, Geto-san, but since your stuff is going in my magazine I might as well take a look.” He said as he took the portfolio from Geto. The three sat in silence as Yaga looked through the photographs.

Director Yaga wasn't someone who was particularly fond of working with people outside the magazine. He would if it was necessary, but he preferred working with people he felt like he could trust. Plus, the costs that came with getting big names for just a few shots, felt like a scam.

Ai recalled Yaga saying something along the lines of ‘They're just as good as those big names. People who read Hollow do it for the articles. If they wanna look at pictures they can grab a damn photobook.’

“They're good,” Yaga admitted as he handed Geto his photos back. “I see why they wanted you for the job.”

Geto gave Yaga a smug smile, his eyes turning into sharp slits that Ai had become accustomed to. “Thank you for the compliment, Yaga-san.”

Yaga nodded and looked through his schedule as if the two weren’t even in the office anymore. “You two can leave now,” he said dismissively as he shifted his interest to something on his computer.

Ai and Geto quickly excused themselves and made their way out of the offices.

“You like working for that guy?” Geto asked once they were far enough from the building.

Ai giggled and shrugged. “I mean, he gave me my first job and while I don't particularly like him– I like my work.”

Geto nodded as he listened to Ai’s reasoning. “Maybe you should look at other options? Just because you're comfortable doesn't mean you can't find anything better.”

Ai rolled her eyes and nudged Geto playfully. “Got any other sage advice, Geto sensei ? Should I invest in some stocks, too?”

Geto stuck his tongue out at her. “Just giving you my two cents.”

Ai sighed and stretched her arms over her head, causing her shoulders to pop. Geto winced at the sound and shook his head in disapproval.

“I appreciate it,” Ai said as she exhaled.

Geto nodded and put his hands in his pockets. “Are you excited for later today?”

“Hm?” Ai tried her best to recall what was on today's schedule but kept drawing a blank. When she finally remembered she had almost walked into the back of a poor salaryman before Geto stopped her. “That comedian’s show, right?”

Geto eyed Ai with concern but nodded. “Yeah, Takaba Fumihiko.”

“Right! He has that interview with him…” Ai muttered mostly to herself as she tried to sort through Gojo’s schedule in her head. The more she tried to remember the more dates and times became blurry just like the rest of her thoughts lately.

Ai gave Geto a weak smile and looked ahead. She felt like she was falling apart at the seams after that meeting. If Geto could see it, someone whom she had only known for a little more than two weeks, it must’ve been obvious to ‌just about anyone. “Are you looking forward to it?”

“A bit.” Geto shrugged as they walked. “I would watch some of his performances with my dad when I was a kid.”

“But he’s so over the top!” Ai laughed. “His style is something that my grandpa would be into he’s all puns and lame gags.”

Geto rolled his eyes and scoffed at Ai’s comment. “ Oh, I didn’t realize that on top of being a journalist that you were comedy legend too.”

Ai giggled. “You know something?” She couldn’t help but smile. “You look cool but you're probably just as lame if not lamer than Gojo.”

Geto clicked his tongue at Ai's comment and turned his nose up at her. “I'm not lame .”

“Name one cool thing about you that doesn’t have to do with your looks.” Ai challenged as she stared Geto dead in the eye.

He paused for a moment and looked around at his surroundings as he tried to think. “... I,” the man was stalling, letting his word drag on as he tried to give Ai an answer. “I run a well-respected food blog I’ll have you know.”

“So cool,” Ai laughed and continued to walk ahead. “Are you going to stay in the area or do you want to meet up later?”

Geto stopped next to Ai as he pondered what to do. “Did you want to get something to eat? I know all the best places.”

Ai shrugged. “Chinese?”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

Geto and Ai were sitting off to the side of a small Chinese restaurant that seated probably twenty to twenty-five at most. The atmosphere was cozy, with dim lighting casting a gentle glow over the dark wooden tables. The lanterns that hung from the ceiling, along with the accents of red added to the restaurant’s charm. They ordered potstickers, shumai, and a spicy tofu dish at Geto's insistence so they didn't just get plates and plates of different types of dumplings.

As they waited for their food, Ai took in the surroundings. The walls were mostly bare, but some of the corners were adorned with paintings of serene landscapes. The aroma of sizzling dishes being prepared in the kitchen traveled through the air, making Ai’s stomach growl in anticipation. She glanced at Geto, who seemed completely at ease, his eyes scanning the menu one last time as if contemplating whether to order something more.

“The tofu is really good,” Ai smiled as she gulped water to dilute the spice on her tongue.

“Aren't you glad we ordered some?” Geto asked as he divvied up the rest of the food for them both.

Ai noticed that he had given her more than he had given himself. She wondered if sharing a meal was Geto’s way of checking in on people he cared for. Whatever his reasoning was, she couldn’t help but feel touched by the gesture.

“I don't need all that,” Ai complained as she tried to put some of the potstickers on Geto's plate, but he blocked her with his chopsticks.

“Eat,” Geto said as he glanced up at her from under his lashes. His gaze was soft yet firm, a mix of concern and insistence “You need the energy. I'll just eat whatever you don't finish.”

Before Ai could even begin to open her mouth in protest Geto stopped with a shake of his head. “I’m sure you have sizable brain in that large head of yours, but thinking burns a lot of calories so eat.”

Ai didn't fight Geto. It's not like she minded; she was tired, and the food was good. She picked up her chopsticks and took another bite, savoring the flavors.

“You could’ve said that without mentioning me having a big head…”

“But it’s one of your more prominent features.” Geto hummed as he enjoyed his tofu.

Ai looked out the window and sighed as she watched the people go by. She had never felt so tired. She had hoped that once this story was over things could go back to the way they were: easy, boring, simple.

“How are things going with Satoru?” Geto arched his brow.

“Good, I feel like he’s finally opening up to me.”

Geto narrowed his eyes at Ai and gave her a knowing smile. “That’s nice, but that wasn’t what I meant.”

Ai frowned. “Things are going nowhere–just like how they should be.”

Geto nodded and glanced away. “Are you sure about that?”

Ai popped a dumpling in her mouth and furrowed her brows at Geto’s question. She was starting to feel like he was trying to play games with her now just like how Gojo seemed to be. She was beginning to think that the two of them were the reason behind her exhaustion rather than this assignment in general.

“What do you mean?” Ai asked, chewing her dumpling slowly as she waited for Geto to speak.

Geto shrugged and set down his chopsticks, looking Ai in the eyes. “What was yesterday about then?”

“Nothing happened.” Ai shook her head. “We just talked and he walked with me to the station.”

Geto leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he studied Ai’s face. “What did you talk about?”

“Fushiguro Toji,” Ai said, setting down her own chopsticks.

Surprise flickered in Geto’s eyes. “He talked about Toji?”

Ai nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all,” Geto said as he picked up his chopsticks, ready to eat again.

Ai studied Geto’s expression waiting for him to continue speaking, but he just silently ate the food that was in front of them. His expression seemed pensive though as if there was something that didn’t play out quite right in his mind.

After a few moments of unsettling silence, Geto finally spoke again. “It’s unusual for Satoru to bring up Toji with anyone.”

Ai’s flicked up from her food to Geto. “Why do you think he mentioned him to me then?”

Geto paused, considering his words carefully. “Maybe he’s testing you.”

“Testing me?”

Ai started to panic internally. If Geto was right that Gojo was testing her then how would she know if she passed or not? Would he even let her know? Would he let her try again? She felt a sudden urge to call Gojo and beg for a second chance. Maybe if she begged he’d take some pity on her. The thought was horrifying but she would swallow what was left of her pride if she needed to.

Geto picked a potsticker off Ai’s plate, popping it into his mouth. Ai watched Geto, her mind racing with questions she didn’t want to voice. She picked at her food, her appetite dampened by the turn of their conversation.

“How do I know if I passed?” She finally asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Geto shrugged, his nonchalant attitude was driving Ai up a wall. “I don’t think it’s something that you have to worry about.”

Ai let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. “I wish I knew what he was thinking…”

Geto chuckled. “Don’t we all?” he rested his head against his palm as he smiled to himself. “I’ve known him for years and I still can’t figure out what he’s thinking sometimes.”

Ai smiled and nodded, she took another bite of her food, feeling a bit more at ease. She looked over at Geto with a newfound appreciation. He was still a menace, but he had a way of calming her that she hadn’t expected from him. It made her wonder if that’s what Gojo liked about him too.

“Stop smiling at me, you're creeping me out,” Geto said as he picked off Ai’s plate.

Ai rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay. But seriously, thanks for this.”

Geto gave a small nod, his smile looked a bit more genuine this time. “Anytime, Ai.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

After wandering around Kanda with Geto, he and Ai had taken a taxi to the set of Takaba Fumihiko's talk show. It felt cozy in comparison to the Jujutsu Kaisen set. There were enough seats to fit a handful of people in the audience while the rest of the room was for Takaba and his two guests. This evening it would be Gojo and Zenin Maki, who were promoting their upcoming movie.

After taking in the scene that was Takaba's “clubhouse”, Ai and Geto made their way to Gojo's green room.

“Senpai,” Junpei quickly stood up and greeted Ai and Geto.

“Hey Junpei-kun, is everything okay?” Ai said as she quickly stepped into the room.

Junpei sighed and looked over his shoulder at the mischievous-looking Gojo. “Y-Yes…”

When Ai looked over Junpei's shoulder at Gojo he quickly turned his head away from her. From the looks of it, he seemed to be pouting.

“Don't be mean to kids, Satoru.” Geto tutted as he started to put the lens on his camera.

Gojo huffed and leaned back in his makeup chair. He was wearing fitted black slacks, a light blue button-up, and a rather expensive-looking pair of leather black loafers.

“No glasses today?” Ai asked as she sat down on the small couch behind Gojo.

Gojo seemed to debate whether he wanted to answer or not before letting himself break out into a smile. “Nah, something about the lights reflecting off the camera. Plus, I look better without them, don't you think, Ai-chan?”

Ai rolled her eyes playfully at Gojo. “If you say so.” She didn't want to say anything that Gojo could read into. Ai was still trying to figure out how to navigate her relationship with him, and her talk with Geto certainly did not help.

“Are you nervous for Takaba’s show, Gojo-san?” Junpei asked with a smile.

Junpei was so mild-mannered that Ai felt herself swell with pride when she saw her kouhai speak without hesitance to Gojo.

Gojo shrugged casually as he turned his attention to Junpei. “Nah, not really. It's just another gig. Besides, Maki will be there too, so I don't have to do too much work.”

“Do talk shows feel like a lot of work with you?” Ai asked as she started to jot some notes down. Gojo didn't seem to do many talk shows, if any at all. However, given that he was promoting a movie that was going to be in theaters, it seemed like an absolute must.

Gojo made a face and sighed before answering. “I mean, regular talk shows are boring as hell, but at least Takaba has us play games, so it's much better.”

“Not a fan of talking about yourself?”

Just before Gojo could answer Ai, a PA called for Gojo, it was time. “I guess there's just not much to say.” He stood up from his makeup chair and a small crowd of stylists came over to make sure that he was picture-perfect. “Wish me luck, Ai-chan.”

Ai nodded and gave him an encouraging smile. “Break a leg, Gojo,” she said as she stood up.

As Gojo walked out, Ai, Geto, and Junpei followed behind. They would be standing on the sidelines while Gojo would turn on the charm for the cameras and the small studio audience.

The show went by relatively well. Gojo immediately fell into a groove with Takaba. Maki's more stern energy made her a natural straight man for the two men to play off of.

Yet, despite the lively energy on set Ai couldn't help but feel a bit of an ache in her chest as she looked Gojo's way. His laughs and his smiles looked and sounded so natural, but when she glanced down at his hand she could see him tense it with each laugh and grin. He was putting on a show. She wondered what it was that bothered him so much. She desperately wanted to know, but she wasn’t sure if it was for the benefit of her story, or out of the concern that she couldn’t help but have for the man.

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #gojo satoru #jjk #geto suguru #jjk gojo fic #gojo x oc #gojo fic #I wonder if it's obvious that I love geto #I wanna eat lunch with geto badly

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