#poor hollow man

[cybercritterinyourcomputer]

Fallen god. You should be void, yet I see the light in your eyes.

[opbackgrounds]

Hogback's greatest medical miracle is having Oars be able to function without any of his abdominal muscles, but even so, I must admit the little cockpit is very cool

[presumenothing]

@ lianhua novel anon: just fyi that i saw your ask and yes would love to talk on it when the braincells permit!! (+ probably also when i finish watching, we're on ep36 rn)

…though i did just have unfortunate and highly cursed but not inaccurate thought that at least some of the plot/coherency issue may be familiar from acd holmes to bbclock adaptation issues, i.e. the addition of Big Backstory Plot followed by the shoehorning of said plot into what were mostly standalone cases in the original writing with varying degrees of success

[inexprymable]

Season 2 Hackle | Hollow Wood

[apicelladonna]

"I wasn't 'trauma dumping' I was just telling you my lore."

Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore subtext exhibit 7

exhibit 1 | exhibit 2 | exhibit 3 | exhibit 4 | exhibit 5 | exhibit 6

[brittakittyneko]

Hug him tightly....

[that-one-loz-nerd]

Oh that hollow knight fight was awful :(

[kris-mage-fics]

The Secret of the Greenhouse

A little non canon compliant Tabitha fic for Scarlet Hollow.

Tabitha loathes taking care of the…thing in the greenhouse. But with Pearlanne gone she's the only one left to do it.

(Please note: I wrote this before Episode 4 came out and based it on my thoughts on the Goop Teddy fan theory at the time. Now we know what's actually in the greenhouse, so this very much doesn't follow canon. But after @georgiedoesntfloat asked me about my SH fic ideas I couldn't get this one out of my head because I liked the vibes. So here it is, and it's all thanks to Georgie!)

Tabitha wasn’t one to believe something unless she saw it herself. She lived in a world of what was concrete and right in front of her. Yet what was in front of her tested her mightily. It shouldn’t exist, but somehow it did. Now that Pearlanne was gone, it was up to her to deal with this…thing.

Pearlanne told Tabitha about it less than a year ago. Apparently it used to be Teddy Scarlet, who was said to have died in the mine collapse in 1918. For all she knew that was a lie. But she learned long ago to keep such thoughts to herself. Pearlanne had been insistent that she learn how to ‘care’ for it. As if it were some kind of horrible pet.

Ever the dutiful daughter, she listened to what her mother had to say. Though Tabitha was sure Pearlanne left out quite a bit. There were too many missing pieces to the story she was given. Now she would never know the rest. Her mother was dead, and she knew not to trust what it had to say.

You can find the rest here on Ao3!

[devourer-of-acetone]

i think the Pale King knew Shade was there.

it wasn't only the Pure Vessel who left Shade behind, left every vessel in the abyss behind. the Pure Vessel at least had the excuse of being a child pulled out of a massacre.

the little bit of writing genius that Team Cherry did was remove our ability to see the Pale King's reaction, but i think he very much realized that the Pure Vessel hadn't followed him and decided to prompt the Pure Vessel. did he turn to look? a glance over his shoulder? does he even need to with the potential of divine sight?

the Pale King knew the Pure Vessel had hesitated, that it was looking at another little face in the dark, clinging to the edge of the overhang. this little moment of connection. of personhood.

in the moment the correct thing would have been to throw everything to the wind. to recognize that this was a horror, to acknowledge that these were people he was condemning to death, just as worthy of a chance at life as the existent people of his nation, even with the threat of the curse hanging overhead. the Pale King could have tried to do the right thing even after the seal was shut! we know the King's Mark opens his doors!

and like yeah, he could have.

but then we wouldn't have had our story.

[ganondorf--apologist]

Brumm: Welcome back you two—

NKG, covered in bruises and scorch marks: Greetings, Brumm! I hope your day has been well!

Brumm, trying not to laugh: What happened?

Baby Grimm, in NKG's arms, completely unharmed: I had a play-date with Holly and Quirrel! :D

NKG: Yes, at Monomon's home... in Fog Canyon :'D

[walks-the-ages]

🥺

[patheticmenscuffle]

(rolls up my sleeves) if no one else is gunna do it i might as well

pastor daniels is Hated by the entire town he is a resident of, they all think he’s a weirdo freak and avoids him and literally nothing he does helps this image. you can openly mock him and he’ll just TAKE IT. every conversation is an opportunity to bully the shit out of him and you only get to speak to him basically twice so far. The man is also being bullied by rats in his church. Rats.

Never thought I would see the day that someone would stick up for the pastor of the holler, I am shaking your hand anon.

-Mod Knight

[jpriest85-blog]

I've come up with another Scarlet Hollow MC, the infamous Florida Man ™️ cousin Jackson Scarlet. He started out as a joke playthrough, but then I got emotionally attached to the weirdo. I mean, the dude offers everyone that bag of boiled peanuts in greeting, and ironically enough, it is one of the few Scarlets to ever go to prison for a crime he was innocent of. I've included some concept art of Jackson, his roommate Truck the cat.

Name: Jackson Darwin Scarlet 

Gender: male 

Sexuality: Pansexual

Age: 25

Height: 5ft10"/177.8cms

Eye color: gray

Hair: Dark brown, straight, and cut short and messy

Face claim: Tom Hardy 

Home city: Tampa

Notable features: the characteristic Scarlet ™️ cheekbones and deep set eyes. As well as a scar on his right eyebrow, stubble, a slightly crooked nose due to a break that didn't set right, and a few faded stab wounds on his lower abdomen beneath his belly button. Jackson also has several tattoos; a Raven on the right side of his chest, a prison tattoo of barbed wire and pocket watch with no hands on his right bicep, and a Madonna and child tattoo on his left bicep. Almost always seen wearing denim pants or shorts, a white tank top, and tacky tropical shirts in eye searing colors, no matter the weather.

Traits:

Gator wrestler Talks to animals/Powerful

Eloquent Ex-con Powerful/Book smart

Dr. Doolittle Talks to animals/ Book smart

The Birdman of Hardee Correctional Talks to Animals/Street smart

Occupation: student trying to get a degree in Biology

Living situation: shares an apartment with an asshole roommate, Truck the cat.

Romance: has a serious crush on Kaneeka.

Personality: The infamous Florida man™️ cousin. Jackson can be impulsive and reckless to the point most of Peralanne's rumors about him aren't that far from the truth like dragging an alligator out of a neighbor's pool, or getting banned from a local pet store for trying to free the animal when he was a kid, ect. Though he knows it wasn't easy for Vivian to raise him, especially with some of the crazy stuff he put her through, Jackson adored his mother dearly to the point he had a reputation for being a giant Mama's Boy. He was also raised to be a gentleman so Jackson is always very respectful of women and always addresses ladies he meets as ma'am and tips his hat, even if the lady in question is an elderly pug dog.

While he does come across as a reckless dumbass Jackson is actually pretty smart. Since he can talk to animals he developed a fascination with Biology from an early age and takes a huge interest in protecting endangered species. He's also surprisingly well read and is fond of the writings of very diverse authors from William Shakespeare to Toni Morrison. 

Sadly, Jackson had a very difficult time making friends with other children his age. Animals he's fine with, but other kids don't really want to play with the boy who claims he can understand what the class hamster is saying. So when he finally did make friends, he was desperate to keep them, even if they were bad influences. Sadly, Jackson's blind loyalty got him into trouble when he took the blame for his best friend on drug charges. Since the Scarlet family name doesn't have much pull in Florida, Jackson wound up spending 4 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Thankfully, he did eventually get his name cleared and was on his way to getting his life together, going back to school, attending AA. Things were looking up…until Vivian was diagnosed with cancer. 

Miscellaneous info & Headcanons

Jackson's father was a miner named Teague O'Byrne who came looking for work after fleeing Northern Ireland during The Troubles. Vivian never shared much about Jackson's father other than he loved to share stories with her about all the folklore they both grew up with.

In addition to the Talipo story, Vivian sometimes shared Irish folktales with Jackson she heard from his father. Jackson's favorite was the story about Selkies.

Jackson's middle name, Darwin, is a reference to the famous naturalist and his interests in biology. Also, for the infamous Darwin awards where people wind up dying in very stupid ways, which so far, Jackson has only gotten honorable mentions.

In addition to being able to speak with animals, Jackson is fluent in Spanish.

As a child, he always wanted to be a pirate or sailor so he could marry a mermaid and live out in the ocean with their part fish kids.

Jackson likely has undiagnosed ADD/ADHD, but considering his trouble finding health insurance, it's going to be a while until he can get it treated.

Due to his excessive energy, Vivian tried to get Jackson involved in sports to help him focus. He did pretty well on the high school wrestling team and was eligible for some college scholarships…until his best friend got into trouble with drug possession, and Jackson took the wrap for him.

Due to being able to communicate with animals and how much the Talipo story frightened him as a child, Jackson decided early on he'd become a vegetarian.

Jackson attended Braulio Alonso High School, which had a Raven mascot. He still owns the Navy and gold varsity jacket.

Despite all the unscrupulous and illegal things the Scarlet family has done over the years, Jackson is the only family member to have on record gone to prison, and ironically, it was for a crime he was innocent of.

Growing up, one of Jackson's few friends was a kid named Benny Johnson, who moved to Tampa from Miami in the 3rd grade after his parents divorced. Jackson bonded with him over the fact they're both being raised by single moms, but that's where the similarities end. Benny's mother was a bitter ex-trophy wife that never seemed happy with anything even though she made good money off the alimony from her plastic surgeon ex, and often spoiled her son while being condescending to the people around her.

During his trial, Jackson's best friend, Benny, did testify, but instead of returning the favor for Jackson taking the blame for the drug possession charges, he threw him under the bus.

While Jackson harbor some resentment for Benny betraying him, he didn't try to hurt him or plot to destroy his life. Instead, Jackson convinced a family of skunks to move into his ex-friend's house and taught them how to safely hide and escape from an eventual visit from pest control.

Due to spending 4 years in prison, Jackson missed out on a lot of pop culture references and jokes. Like when Kaneeka's brother Miles compared him to a character from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure because he's into marine biology and spent time in prison, and the reference went completely over his head.

Jackson's favorite TV shows are pro-wrestling programs, The Golden Girls and Magnum PI. He also starts getting into Murder She Wrote when he befriends Stella and Gretchen.

Truck the cat is a main coon cat with a gray striped coat pattern, which is why Jackson's old room gave the cat the name Truck because he's so fucking huge.

I headcanon Truck's first owner was a chef and Jackson's ex-boyfriend. Part of the reason Truck is such a brat to Jackson is because he doesn't spoil him with treats like his "real dad" used to, since Jackson is a vegetarian and worries about Truck's health.

I headcanon Truck the cat was a rescue part of the reason Jackson keeps him after his roommate/ex-boyfriend moves out is he can relate to how hard it is to build a life after being locked up for so long.

Truck the cat has an ongoing rivalry with an alligator that likes to sneak into the neighbor's pool that Jackson affectionately addresses as, Big Edie.

Jackson often used to get into arguments with Truck when the cat would steal his food. They usually devolved into yelling at each other in Cuban Spanish.

In addition to arguments about stealing food and bathroom etiquette, Jackson doesn't like that Truck tends to monopolize the TV. The cat will scream at Jackson for hours if he doesn't get to watch his telenovelas.

Before leaving for Scarlet Hollow Jackson left Truck in the care of an elderly neighbor who he affectionately calls Abi (granny) Marisol.

Jackson often jokes that his cousin Tabitha is like his grumpy parole officer.

In a strange way, Jackson's dynamic with Tabitha mirrors his relationship with Truck the cat but reversed. Jackson would often get into arguments with Truck just for trying to keep the cat alive; like keeping Truck from eating foods that'll make him sick, or trying to stop him from trying to constantly fight Big Edie, the alligator that keeps sneaking into the neighbor's pool. Likewise Tabitha and Jackson often argue about Jackson constantly winding up in dangerous situations, and it's only a matter of time before he comes to the hilarious realization he's basically become the jackass cat to his cousin.

[betawooper]

yknow i thought using a minion build against every boss in hk would have been easy

and then i got to uumuu

[martiansodas-blog]

too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

Xx

The first time 

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?” 

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to. 

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late. 

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,” 

You sway him from side to side. 

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper. 

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby. 

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him. 

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair. 

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?” 

You twist one of his curls in your fingers. 

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.” 

Your heart broke for him. 

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better. 

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him. 

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.” 

Art froze. 

Well, that’s new. 

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.” 

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle. 

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.” 

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands. 

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck. 

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods. 

It causes you to giggle. 

“Thank you.” 

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin. 

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet. 

I could do this all day. 

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.” 

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.” 

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied. 

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him. 

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him. 

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath. 

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before. 

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest. 

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat. 

“You won’t.” 

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy. 

His tongue reaches new trenches. 

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal.  His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips. 

“Shit. Just like that.” 

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue. 

“Oh god, oh god,” 

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first. 

The only thing he knew was your body. 

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release. 

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory. 

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?” 

He whimpered and nodded. 

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast. 

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable. 

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave. 

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in. 

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth. 

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to. 

“Such a good boy.” 

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition. 

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock. 

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more. 

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished. 

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.” 

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing. 

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.” 

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb. 

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now. 

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.” 

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that. 

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.” 

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.” 

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth. 

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt. 

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him. 

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises. 

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead. 

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art. 

“Are you leaving?” 

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face. 

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back” 

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system. 

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.” 

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo Satoru likes his girls clingy. 

wc — 1k

tags — confident reader 

He lets you loop your arms around his neck and whine for kisses, gifts, everything he has. With an unlimited budget and the deep pockets of a man in love, he spoils you rotten. 

Here’s the problem with being the strongest: you will always be the strongest. From the day he was born, there was no competition. Gojo didn’t even have to begin to outstrip his peers. He was simply born better than them. 

But eventually, even that level of talent grew exponentially until he went from being simply unbeatable to untouchable. His growth was incomparable, leaving him a lonely god on his own plane of existence. 

That’s why he needs you: sweet and soft and demanding. Everyone else had it all wrong. 

The Gojo clan spoiled their young head rotten. Knowing that he would bear the burden of the world from the moment he was born and those blue eyes opened, his mother demanded her child grow up in peace. Nothing was asked of him, no demands, no pleas for help. 

The outside world relied on Gojo as their saviour, but within the Gojo compound, he was just a spoiled little boy whose mother adored him. 

The way he acts within the walls of the Gojo stronghold is a carefully kept secret. He’s as soft as a newborn kitten, hair carefully washed by his childhood nurses and left out to sun in a patch of light. He’s sleepy and warm and mellow, hardly the strongest anymore. Without knowing any of this, you somehow bring that back out in him years later. 

An auxiliary manager in training, you first met him when you were tagging along with Ijichi on one of Gojo’s missions. Ijichi was flustered, even more so than usual, at the thought of having to care for a mentee when he could hardly take care of himself.

It only made matters worse that your first mission would be with Gojo. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach, despairing at how he would inevitably fail to shield you from his barbed comments and wicked teasing. 

In the end, he needn’t have worried. The two of you turn the tables on him. 

Poor Ijichi. 

It started off as a way to bully him more, because Gojo could be such a little tyrant. 

“Come on, Ijichi. Let her tag along, what’s the harm!” 

“You heard him,” you had announced self-importantly, and thrown yourself promptly into the passenger seat. 

That was usually Gojo’s seat, but he was willing to give it up for some amusement. 

You hadn’t been given permission to go on this mission, but you had insisted. First you wheedled, then you whined, finally you outright demanded. You wanted see the powerful Satoru Gojo in action. 

He leans forward, arms draped over the back of your seat. He pokes your cheek playfully as he says, “Oh, are you a fan?” 

“As if!” You scoff. “I don’t care about you, I care about your cursed technique.” 

Gojo takes your bluntness in stride. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about his technique (he caught you demanding details on Hollow Purple from Ijichi once) or maybe it’s the way your cheeks puff out when you pout. He knows you’re lying. Part of your assignment to Ijichi is because you begged Masamichi to be placed where you could watch Gojo work. 

It’s easy work for him. The curse is vaporized in seconds. He makes it look so weak you wonder why they even bothered with it at all until you remember that this curse had been failed to be exorcised by a first grade sorcerer who had come back licking his wounds. It’s not that it’s weak, it’s that he’s too strong. 

“Anyone up for lunch? My treat,” Gojo says, still immaculate as ever. 

Ijichi, who had been standing so close he got covered in some strange muck, not even from the curse but from Hollow Purple cutting through the mud, looks at him suspiciously. Gojo is never this nice. 

You have no such reservations. Ijichi yelps and protests when Gojo brings you to a luxurious restaurant in the heart of Tokyo without a reservation, relying on the strength of his name alone. He doesn’t even eat much, content to watch you order whatever you like on his dime. It amuses him, the way you’re so confident about it, as if you know he won’t refuse you. 

He won’t. 

By the time you order dessert - for you and Gojo, telling him he’ll like whatever you choose for him - he can’t bear the burning question that’s been lurking in the back of his mind anymore. 

“Smoke break!” He demands cheerfully. 

“You don’t even smoke!” Ijichi says, terrified, as if Gojo is some high school bully dragging him out under another pretense to shake him down for cash. He might, just for fun. 

You smile and wave them off. You wouldn’t let Gojo do that seriously, but Ijichi is just so fun to tease. You’ll come rescue him later if it looks like he’s really miserable. 

“Alright, spill the beans,” Gojo says, leaning against the doorframe and blockading Ijichi from going back inside. “What’s her deal?” 

Ijichi just stares at him slack jawed, open mouthed, terrified, clearly still waiting for some kind of attack. 

“Oh, come on! I’m not that mean to you, am I?” Even Gojo can’t resist a twitchy smile at what he’s saying. “Who is she? Where’s she from?” 

Ijichi blinks. “She’s just some girl. Masamichi hired her.” 

“She’s a right little princess,” Gojo murmured. “What, is she the daughter of a clan head or something? Maybe even the Three Clans?” 

Ijichi sighs. “You would think so with that attitude, but she just comes from a normal non-sorcerer family.” 

“Her?” Gojo asks disbelievingly. “A girl like that? Impossible.” 

“It’s true,” Ijichi says. “I don’t even know where Masamichi picked her up.” 

Gojo returns to his seat with a overly sweet parfait waiting for him. You’re right, he does like it. Or maybe he likes it because you’re finally giving him your full attention, waiting with rapt delight to see if he’ll give it full stars. 

He thinks he might take you out to dinner more, if it gets you to look at him like that. You might not be a clan princess yet, but he can’t wait to make you one.