#sticky notes and serendipity

[brendadaaedestler]

Decided to create some new cover art for @nerdywriter36’s and my Cherik fic Sticky Notes and Serendipity!

[nerdywriter36]

Sticky Notes and Serendipity, Epilogue: Sticky Notes and Serendipity

AO3

And just like that, Sticky Notes and Serendipity is completed!! It's crazy to think about that, but @brendadaaedestler and I are so excited to be able to share the conclusion of this story with everyone. We are so happy with this sweet ending, and we think our readers will be too ❤️

The fact that this fic is finished and posted in its entirety is absolutely insane. The last year of working on it has been a wild ride and we have loved every second of bringing this beautiful story to life. The love that it received was something that neither of us expected but are so happy about; we're so glad that everyone came to love the story and these characters as much as we did. It is without a doubt one of my favourite things that I've ever written, that I am the most proud of, and I don't think that will change any time soon.

For everyone who has been waiting for the last part, here you are and THANK YOU for going on this ride with us!! For everyone who has been waiting for this fic to be completed before reading it, go nuts!!

Thank you to everyone who has read this fic, and enjoy the epilogue of Sticky Notes and Serendipity ❤️

[trash-art-central-blog]

I made my sister watch the 1990 mini series, and now she is reading Sticky Notes and Serendipity so she can start her healing process.

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 4

Authors Note: I am personally loving this series, so I really hope you guys are too. Thank you for all the kind words about this series so far. LOVE YOU <33

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Summary : After being found by Gojo and his first year students in a sticky situation, y/n joins Jujutsu High under the close supervision of Gojo. As time passes, the two of you become close, with a strong unspoken bond forming as you work together. Although, there is something dark looming over the situation, and those at Jujutsu High are determined to get to the bottom of it, before it is too late.

Chapter Summary : Y/n continues training with the first-years, while Gojo grows increasingly protective of her. In order to become more useful, y/n works hard at developing her cursed energy into a cursed technique. With this development comes more complications with those suspicious of y/n and the forest incident. 

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; If you'd like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment to let me know :)

Word Count : 5.1k

Warnings : Seggusal tension increasinggggg, nothing else yet tho hehe.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

There was darkness all around, an oppressive weight that felt like it was closing in. 

Your breaths came in short gasps as you ran, feet pounding against the wet earth, but no matter how fast you moved, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was following you. It wasn’t a person—at least, not entirely. 

You were back in the forest.

You stood up, looking over your shoulder to see a man standing behind you. Dark and intense cursed energy oozed from him. You couldn’t breathe, as if there was something blocking your airway. 

Clawing at your throat—gasping for breath—you started running away from the mysterious man. 

Suddenly, your foot caught on something, and you fell hard into the mud. Then, a piercing pain immobilized you—it felt like your stomach was ripping itself apart.

When finally managed to open your eyes, you saw him again. But a bright light cast a shadow over his face. 

That's when you felt it. 

A dark manifestation of cursed energy. It crackled like electricity, twisting and coiling around your arms, burning through your skin.

You screamed, trying to shake it off, but it only grew stronger, surging through you with a force you couldn’t control. It was inside you, seeping out, and no matter what you did, it wouldn’t stop. 

Your eyes shot open.

You were back in your room at Jujutsu High, breathless and disoriented, heart still pounding in your chest. The nightmare clung to you for a few seconds before dissolving like smoke, leaving behind only the sensation of that cursed energy—the one you still didn’t fully understand. 

You sat up in bed, a cold layer of sweat coating your body. Who was that? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to remember anything from that nightmare. But it all faded away.

It was just a dream—but it felt real.

—

After a night of no sleep, you decided to head out and begin training. Gojo had mentioned he wanted you to begin training early today. Since your flare of cursed energy at the graveyard, you were both somewhat eager to see what else you could do. You had to figure out a way to gain some sort of control over your situation. 

The sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the outdoor training grounds with a soft, golden hue. 

You stood with your feet planted firmly on the dirt of the outdoor arena, eyes closed as you tried to focus. It was early, and the others were allowed to sleep in today because of their work last night on exorcising the curses at the graveyard, so it was just you and Gojo training for the next hour.

“Eventually, your cursed energy will manifest itself into a technique. Which will be the main way you can use it to fight curses.” Gojo explained as he typed something into his phone. 

You nodded, but at your core, you didn’t know if you could do this. 

You could feel his arrogant attitude from where you stood in the training arena. “Try not to blow up the place, alright?”

Rolling your eyes, you had scoffed at him. But, as you stood with cursed energy swirling aimlessly around your fingers, you couldn’t help but feel frustrated. 

It was still so unpredictable, and each time you tried to harness it, it either fizzled out or spiralled into chaos. 

You didn’t want to hurt anyone.

“Okay, come on,” you muttered to yourself, taking a deep breath and stretching out your fingers as you centred the energy into your palm. 

The cursed energy crackled like static against your skin, bright blue sparks shimmering along the edges. Your brow furrowed in concentration. But just as quickly as it flared up, the energy dispersed with a soft pop, leaving nothing but a faint tingle in its wake.

“Dammit,” you whispered under your breath. Your frustration beginning to grow.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Gojo’s voice floated over, his footsteps light as he approached. He had a knack for appearing at just the right (or wrong) moment, and it wasn’t surprising to see him standing a few feet away with that infuriatingly calm smile on his face. “Takes time to control it.”

You glanced at him, wiping the sweat off your brow. “I feel like I’m not getting anywhere with it.” 

You had been out here, trying to harness your cursed energy into something useful since sunrise, which must have been hours ago.

“You’re getting somewhere,” Gojo said easily, crossing his arms as his blindfold caught the glint of the sun. 

His voice dropped into that familiar teasing tone. “Besides, it’s not every day I get to see you all frustrated like this. Kind of cute, actually.”

You huffed, feeling a flush creep up your neck at his direct comment. Turning away to hide your embarrassment, you snapped, “You’re annoying, you know that?”

He chuckled, a low, amused sound that seemed to reverberate through the air. “I’ve been told that once or twice.”

He had this way of making everything seem effortless, yet there was a deeper, almost imperceptible layer of concern that you couldn’t quite understand. 

You caught him watching you more often now, his usual playful demeanour occasionally replaced by an intense seriousness that made you wonder what he was really thinking.

There were moments, fleeting and unexpected when you found yourself lost in thoughts about him.

His confident smile, the way he casually teased you, and even his serious side, all seemed to draw you in—and there is no denying he has got to be one of the most gorgeous men you’d ever se—What the hell am I thinking about right now, focus!

You quickly brushed these thoughts away, a mix of embarrassment and practicality pushing them to the back of your mind. 

Focus on the training, you reminded yourself. There was enough to worry about without adding complicated feelings into the mix.

The weight of needing to be useful, to prove yourself, was heavier than anything else on your mind right now. 

You took a deep breath, focusing your mind on the cursed energy swirling within you. Concentrate, you told yourself. Control it. Let it become strong.

With renewed determination, you concentrated the energy into your palms.

The familiar blue light began to glow, a vivid hue that seemed to dance around your hands. You lifted your arm, aiming towards the wooden target set up at the other end of the arena.

Gojo watched you intently, his usual smirk replaced by a look of genuine interest. You could feel his gaze on you, a silent encouragement that urged you to push through.

You narrowed your eyes at the target, summoning every ounce of concentration you had.

The cursed energy built up, a palpable force in your hand. When you felt ready, you released it.

A beam of cursed energy shot out from your palm, faster than a snap of your fingers. The beam struck the wooden target with explosive force. 

It shattered into splinters instantaneously, the impact sending debris scattering across the field. Blue flames erupted from the point of impact, scorching the ground and adding a dramatic flair to the display.

You watched with a mix of pride and relief as the target was blown to smithereens, the blue flames sizzling out quickly. The energy buzzed in your hands, a testament to the progress you had made.

“Wow, y/n…” Gojo said, his voice carrying a hint of genuine admiration. You smiled wide at his reaction. 

He walked over to you, playfully clapping his hands. But, your smile immediately fell into a tired frown when he spoke, “That was way stronger than I expected from you. Plus, I thought you’d miss.” 

“Well, aren’t you encouraging.” You replied harshly. “Glad you’re always rooting for me.” You said flatly as you turned away from him, setting yourself up to try again. 

As you caught your breath, still feeling the residual pulse of cursed energy, you heard footsteps approaching. Yuji, Nobara, and Maki—came into view, drawn by the commotion.

Yuji’s eyes widened as he took in the scene, his mouth dropping open in awe. “Whoa! What happened here?”

Nobara’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, her usual teasing demeanor replaced by genuine interest. “Looks like y/n’s been busy. What was that?”

Maki raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “That’s some impressive cursed energy control.”

Gojo took a step back, giving the group a sweeping gesture with a flourish. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present y/n’s newly developed technique. Quite the show, huh?”

Yuji bounded forward, practically bouncing with excitement. “That was amazing, y/n! I knew you had it in you!”

Nobara grinned and clapped her hands together. “Awesome! Now we can really go at you in training. Even Maki’s impressed, and that’s saying something.”

Maki gave you a nod of respect, her usual tough exterior softened by genuine admiration. “Nice work.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the lingering flush of satisfaction. “Just trying to keep up.”

The group continued to chatter, their enthusiasm and encouragement a welcome change from the tension you’d been feeling.

As you joined them, the atmosphere lightened, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax, enjoying the camaraderie of your peers. The fears that were previously stuck in your mind faded away. 

Gojo stayed close, his gaze lingering on you with an unreadable expression. Even amidst the laughter and conversation, there was an air of unspoken understanding between the two of you. 

That morning’s training had revealed more than just a new technique—it revealed that you could help, and that maybe, just maybe, everyone at this school wouldn’t see you as a burden.

—

Later that day, after you had spent hours training and sparring with Megumi and Nobara, you found yourself walking through the corridors of Jujutsu High, still thinking about your nightmare. You remembered that you had seen someone in your dream, but all details were blurred, like a lake on a windy day.

As you turned a corner, you almost collided with Nanami, who was making his way to the principal’s office.

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered, stepping aside quickly.

Nanami glanced at you with his usual unreadable expression. “No worries, y/n. My fault.” He gave a small nod of acknowledgment before continuing on his way. 

You watched him go—you didn’t know much about Nanami, but the other students spoke very highly of him. 

Something about the atmosphere around the school felt off today. There was an underlying tension you couldn’t quite place.

Deciding to brush it off for now, you headed back to your room, where Gojo was patiently waiting, leaning against your doorframe. “I’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” you teased, crossing your arms as you walked down the hall.

He grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I’ve been accused of worse things.”

You rolled your eyes. “I need to talk to you.” He looked serious for a moment, something unusual for him. “Okayy…” You responded awkwardly. “What’s up?”

“The higher-ups are paying more attention to you now." He said bluntly, his tone flatter than usual.

Your heart skipped a beat, your body tensing at his words. “What do you mean, paying attention to me?”

Gojo let out a soft sigh. “Your cursed energy’s growing stronger. They’ve noticed. And when the higher-ups notice something they can’t explain, they don’t like to just let it slide. It’s quite annoying actually.” He threw his head back a bit in annoyance. “There’s this old bald guy who likes to hold grudges—mostly against me—and you’re my student.” 

You felt a lump form in your throat as his words settled in. The higher-ups were interested in you? 

"So... what does that mean for me?"

Gojo tilted his head a bit. "It means they're getting more suspicious. And if they can't figure you out, they’ll want to dig deeper.”

He hesitated for just a second before his smirk returned, “I gotta start bringing you on every mission. I kind of have a thing against these old folk, so I want to stay in between you and them.” 

You stared at him, your mind spinning. Going on missions with Gojo? The idea felt both thrilling and terrifying, and you weren’t sure if you should feel relieved or even more anxious. "You’re really serious about this?" you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Gojo held up a finger and put his other hand on his hip. "Yep! So you should definitely polish up your cursed techniques.” You rolled your eyes at him, but he spoke again before you could respond.

"Don’t forget though, I am the strongest—If the higher-ups want to watch, fine. But they’ll have to do it from a distance."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. The idea of being watched, of being tested again—it made your skin crawl. 

But at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the strange comfort you felt knowing Gojo would be there.

—

The next day, you found yourself back at the training grounds with the rest of the group. The air felt heavy with the anticipation of something unspoken, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. Megumi and Yuji were already stretching out, and Nobara was talking loudly about some new shoes she had bought. 

Gojo was already there when you arrived, leaning against a tree with his usual lazy grin, but his posture was more rigid than usual. Something was clearly on his mind.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Gojo’s voice broke through the chatter, and the group gathered around, exchanging glances.

“Today’s focus is control.” Gojo’s smile widened as his eyes flicked to you, the challenge clear. 

“We’re going to see just how well y/n can manage her cursed energy while under pressure. And by pressure, I mean you guys.” He flashed a pair of finger guns towards you and the others. 

Your heart skipped a beat. It was no secret that you had struggled with control until recently, and Gojo had been pushing you harder lately. 

As the sparring matches began, you found yourself paired with Nobara. Her cursed tools were sharp and precise, and you knew she wouldn’t hold back. 

You summoned your cursed energy, focusing it into your palms. You had yet to figure out any way to use your cursed energy defensively, only on the offence. 

She was too quick for you—you couldn’t load up your technique, just dodge her nails. 

“Fuck,” You breathed, sweat now dripping down your forehead. 

You managed to get a single strike aimed in her direction. She blocked it, although not with ease. 

Quickly after this, Nobara lunged at you, and you couldn’t dodge it. You lifted a single hand in font of your face to block her, and a shimmering barrier of cursed energy appeared in front of you, freezing Nobara in the air. It held up for a few seconds but then broke apart—Nobara falling in front of you. 

“You’re getting better,” Nobara said, a grin pulling at her lips, as she stood up. “But you’ll have to do better than that if you want to beat me.”

You smirked, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. “Oh, I plan to.”

For the next several minutes, the two of you exchanged blows, your cursed energy crackling and swirling around you. 

Each time Nobara attacked, you deflected with that shimmery barrier you created, feeling more in control of your abilities than ever before. 

But with each success came a growing sense of unease. 

The cursed energy wasn’t just responding to you—it was almost like it had a mind of its own, reacting to your emotions, amplifying with each surge of frustration or excitement.

From his vantage point, Gojo observed you with a mixture of amusement and admiration. It was impossible not to be drawn to the way you approached your training—there was a fierce determination in your eyes that spoke volumes. 

But it wasn’t just your training that captured his attention. There were moments, fleeting and unguarded, when you flashed him a smile—an expression of triumph or frustration. Those smiles, so rare and genuine, had a way of lighting up your face and sending a jolt of warmth through him. 

Sometimes, when you spoke to him, your voice had a certain edge that made his pulse quicken—a mix of sass and sincerity that he found both endearing and electrifying.

The way you carried yourself—your smile, your eyes, your voice—had an effect on him that went beyond mere admiration. 

Just as you were about to launch another attack, Gojo’s voice cut through the air.

“That’s enough.”

You and Nobara stopped, both panting heavily. You glanced over at Gojo, who had his arms crossed, his blindfold covering his eyes but not hiding the fact that he had been watching you intently the entire time.

Before you could respond, Yaga appeared at the edge of the training grounds, his face as stern as ever.

The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted. He hadn’t been around much since you’d arrived at Jujutsu High, but whenever he did show up, it was usually for something serious.

“Gojo, a word?” Yaga said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Gojo sighed, his usual lighthearted demeanour slipping. “Go on without me,” he said to the group, and then to you specifically, “Try not to burn the place down.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tightness in your chest remained as you watched Gojo and Yaga disappear into the main building.

Nobara nudged you lightly, breaking you from your thoughts. “What do you think that’s about?” she asked, her voice casual but her eyes glinting with curiosity.

You shrugged, trying to play it off, though your heart raced with unease. “Who knows? Maybe they’re finally realizing how much of a pain Gojo is,” you joked, earning a loud laugh from Nobara, though your attempt at humour fell flat to your own ears.

—

Meanwhile, inside the main building, Gojo leaned casually against the wall, his blindfold still firmly in place, arms crossed in a posture that suggested nonchalance. “So, what’s so urgent, Yaga? You interrupt my valuable instructor time?” Gojo quipped, though his tone lacked its usual lightness.

Yaga didn’t bite on Gojo’s attempt at humour. His face was grave as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. “There’s been word of a new curse user. Someone powerful. Too powerful to go unnoticed for long.”

Gojo straightened up slightly, sensing the shift in tone. “And?”

“And the higher-ups—specifically Gakuganji—are starting to grow suspicious,” Yaga continued. “They think this curse user might be connected to y/n.”

At this, Gojo’s easygoing facade cracked. His posture stiffened, and a dangerous gleam appeared behind his blindfold. “Those idiots think y/n’s involved? Based on what?”

Yaga sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know how they are. Always looking for someone to blame. Her cursed energy’s been growing steadily, and they can’t make sense of it. Then, suddenly, this curse user appears on the radar, causing havoc—Gakuganji’s convinced there’s a link.”

Gojo was silent for a moment, processing the information. His fingers twitched by his sides, itching for action, for a way to cut through the bureaucracy and protect you. “Y/n has nothing to do with this curse user,” he said, his voice hard and certain. “You know that, and I know that.”

“But Gakuganji doesn’t,” Yaga countered. “He’s old, set in his ways. He’s convinced himself that there’s something wrong with her. The more her cursed energy grows, the more paranoid he gets.”

Gojo clenched his jaw, frustrated but not surprised. “What’s the plan, then? Are they going to monitor her, restrict her movements? Or do they want to go further?”

Yaga frowned, folding his arms. “They haven’t made a decision yet, but it’s clear Gakuganji wants answers. He’s pushing for a formal investigation. If he can convince the other higher-ups, it won’t be long before they take action.”

Gojo’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “And by ‘investigation,’ you mean dragging her into their games, pushing her until something breaks.”

“Exactly,” Yaga said grimly. “They’re not going to let this go. And if this curse user causes more damage, they’ll be looking for someone to pin it on.”

Gojo’s eyes darkened behind his blindfold. His protective instincts surged as he thought of you, how unaware you were of the storm brewing around you. He wouldn’t let them touch you—not when he could do something about it.

“So what do we do?” Gojo asked, his tone dropping, serious.

Yaga glanced at him, the unspoken weight of the question hanging between them. “I trust you, Gojo, but you need to be careful. You’re the only thing standing between y/n and Gakuganji right now. If he gets too suspicious, even you might not be able to stop them from acting.”

Gojo scoffed at Yagas statement. “Yeah right. Not even that old man could stop me, you know that too.” He pushed off the wall, his posture shifting back into the easygoing persona he used like armour.

—

After training, you were left feeling restless. The sparring match with Nobara had gone well, but the growing power inside you felt unsettling. You needed to clear your head, and sitting still wasn’t an option. 

The sun had just set, and you were wandering the grounds, the quiet evening air a welcome distraction from the many issues swirling in your mind. But just as you rounded a corner near the principal’s office, you caught sight of Gojo and Nanami standing just outside, their voices hushed but intense.

“I don’t trust the higher-ups on this,” Gojo was saying, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “There’s more going on here than they’re letting on.”

Nanami frowned, his arms crossed. “And what do you plan to do? Defy them openly?”

Gojo shrugged, though there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your heart raced as you ducked behind a nearby wall, straining to hear more.

“They want her under observation,” Nanami continued, his voice low but firm. “There are too many unanswered questions about her cursed energy. If they find something they don’t like, it won’t end well.”

Gojo’s voice dropped even lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “That’s why I’m keeping her close. I’m not letting them pull any stunts.”

Nanami was quiet for a moment before responding, “Just be careful. If you go too far, you’ll be putting both of you at risk.”

Gojo let out a soft chuckle, though there was no real humour in it. “Since when am I not careful?”

Nanami shot him a pointed look, and Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep it subtle. So serious, Nanami.” And with that, you heard one set of footsteps leave, trailing down the hall.

You pressed your back against the wall, your mind racing. The higher-ups were investigating you? And Gojo—he was protecting you from them?

You weren’t sure what to think. 

The idea that the higher-ups were interested in your cursed energy wasn’t surprising, but the fact that Gojo was actively shielding you from them sent a whirlwind of emotions through you.

Before you could process any further, Gojo’s voice floated through the air again, this time with that familiar teasing lilt. “You can come out now, y/n.”

Shit.

Your heart nearly stopped. How had he known?

Reluctantly, you stepped out from behind the wall, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flush creeping onto your cheeks. “I wasn’t eavesdropping!” you said quickly, though the weak defense only made your face heat up further.

Gojo’s smirk was pure mischief as he slid his hands into his pockets, his movements leisurely and deliberate. “Oh? Then what were you doing?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died in your throat as Gojo stopped right in front of you.

He towered over you, his presence was overwhelming in the dim light. With one finger he held his blindfold up slightly to reveal those sharp, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about this stuff?” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. The way he spoke made your pulse quicken.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he interrupted, his tone lighter but still firm, with an edge that made your stomach flutter. “And you’re overthinking it.”

His proximity was intoxicating. 

You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath so close that it made your heart race. The way he looked at you, so intensely and with that hint of a smirk, made you lose your train of thought.

Every glance, every touch, every teasing comment he made set your nerves on fire. But you tried to keep your composure. 

“I just want to know what’s going on,” you said quietly, your voice betraying the emotional turbulence you felt. “Why are they so interested in me?”

Gojo’s expression shifted, and for a brief moment, the playful facade dropped.

He took another step closer, you felt his breath on the top of your head as he spoke, “Because they don’t trust you. 

You felt your breath hitch at the closeness, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Okay, and why are you so involved?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of emotions surging through you.

Gojo tilted his head, his lips curling into a teasing smirk as he gazed down at you, his voice low and almost intimate. "Do I need a reason to be involved?" he murmured, the weight of his words making your chest tighten.

Your pulse quickened as you searched his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind that statement.

He always did this—danced around the edges of something deeper, leaving you guessing, wondering if there was more to his teasing than just playful banter. 

But right now, with his proximity overwhelming your senses, it felt different. More intense.

“I think you owe me one,” you whispered firmly, trying to keep your voice steady, though the closeness made it nearly impossible. “A real answer.”

Gojo’s smirk faded slightly, his expression shifting into something more serious, something that sent a wave of heat straight through you. 

His hand brushed the side of your arm as he lifted his hand up to hold the back of his neck, his fingers lingering just long enough to send a spark through your skin.

“Maybe I’m just keeping an eye on what’s mine,” he said softly, his tone both possessive and protective.

Your breath hitched at his words. What the hell was he talking about? His?

There was an unmistakable electricity between the two of you—a pull you couldn't resist, no matter how hard you tried.

“Yours?” you breathed, the word barely slipping past your lips. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, his smirk returning with a new lightheartedness to it.

And suddenly the moment was gone—“Yeah, my student!” 

Your eyes narrowed at him, the sudden shift in his tone turning all the heat that had built up into sheer frustration.

Gojo saw your face and let out a loud chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he took step back. “Ha! for a minute I thought you were coming onto me there, y/n.” 

His teasing grin was back in full force, and you hated how easily he could do that—toss you from one emotional extreme to another like it was nothing. 

"Oh god, you're insufferable," you muttered, dramatically rolling your eyes and putting your hands on your hips. You were annoyed at him, but it was hard to stay that way when he looked so damn amused.

Gojo tilted his head, watching you with that playful glint in his eye, like he was waiting for you to react exactly how you did. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that.” He chuckled.

“Whatever, you’re a weird guy, you know that?” You said, although you couldnt help the smile that was creeping onto your face.

Before he could say anything else, you turned away and began to walk in the direction of your dorm room, a knowing smile formed on your lips. “Goodnight, Saturo.” You said; your voice was soft as you waved before turning the corner. 

Gojo stood there, frozen in place as your words echoed in his mind.

Satoru.

The sound of his name on your lips stirred something deep inside him, something he couldn’t quite define. It was the first time he had heard his name said in such a tone since—since his best friend. 

But from you, it felt different—intimate in a way that unsettled him. His name had never sounded so soft, so gentle, and for a brief moment, he wondered how many other times you’d said it in your head, the way it had rolled so naturally off your tongue just now.

He blinked, the usual playful smirk faltering on his lips as a strange warmth spread through his chest that he couldn’t suppress. 

He could feel his heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years, the steady rhythm skipping just slightly out of sync. What was that? 

His hand twitched at his side, tempted to reach out after you, to call you back, but he hesitated.

What the hell are you doing, Satoru? He thought to himself, shaking his head as if to clear the strange, fluttering feeling in his chest.

Gojo prided himself on being untouchable—in more ways than one. 

No one could get close enough to affect him, emotionally or otherwise, but somehow, without even trying, you were doing just that. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair and letting out a low chuckle to himself.

“Damn, you really are something else,” he muttered, staring at the spot where you had just disappeared from view.

There was no denying it now—you had managed to slip past the barriers he had built, and the realization unsettled him. His mind raced through the conversations, the subtle moments, the looks shared between you two.

And now, something as simple as you saying his name had thrown him completely off balance.

Your voice continued to echo in his ears—Satoru—soft and lingering. 

Finally, he turned on his heel, heading toward his own quarters, though his mind was anything but settled.

His thoughts kept circling back to you—to the way you’d looked at him before you left, the way your lips had curved into that soft, knowing smile.

He cursed under his breath.

This was getting dangerous. Not because of the higher-ups, not because of the curses or the investigations, but because of you. 

You were becoming a distraction—a very dangerous, very tempting distraction.

[ghost-proofbaby]

Can I get a strawberry midsummer’s night with robin please?💜

absolutely yes yes yes <3 hope you enjoy!! thank you for the request <3

sticky kisses and serendipity

warnings: other than fem!reader? none. just lovin' on our girl. <3 not edited tho

wc: 1.3k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

“You’ve got something, right… here!” 

There’s something in the warm summer air tonight. A lightness, a breeze of a feather that hadn’t been there the last few months. The heat has rid itself of the stifling humidity, the sun has begun to take its leave for the day, and the lake water has gone still with a tranquility you can feel within the depths of your chest. Even the occasional breeze can’t break the surface of the water, no ripples in sight as your feet hang off the dock. 

“Wha-” Robin had started to genuinely question, but she cuts off halfway through her question when your intentions get revealed; your finger swipes through the top of your ice cream cone, gathering just enough sweet treat to swipe across the tip of her nose. “No!” 

She lets out a whine, reaching too slow for your wrist as you retreat, still giggling a bit. 

You feel like a child, all vibrant eyes and aching cheeks as you watch the girl who’s the sole reason for it basking in the blanket of the dying day’s golden light. Giggling at anything and everything, tongue cold with a scoop of Rocky Road that you both could pretend for a moment hadn’t cost you the last of your latest paychecks. 

No one around to judge. No one around to witness. It’s just you, your girl, and the still lake water. 

“C’mon,” she continues to complain, but she’s still smiling back at you, striking something deep within your bones. She holds her own sherbet shake in the hand farthest from you, the pretty shade of pink matching the slow-healing sunburn that dusts the tops of her cheeks, “That’s not even fair. I’m gonna be all sticky now.” 

“Want me to kiss it better?” you tease, leaning forward, feeling the wood planks beneath you dig into your bare thighs. 

She’s quick to lean away from you, the sparkle of the chase glittering in her eyes as she jokes, “You? Gross. Why would I ever want a dingus like you to kiss me? Ugh.” 

Every word is laced up tightly with sarcasm, her hardly being able to get through them without the interruptions of soft scoffs, knowing just how ridiculous she is being. 

The joke doesn’t even hurt – it only makes something further bloom in the pit of your stomach as you pucker your lips and continue to chase her retreating figure, biting back a grin that matches her own. When she had first met you, she’d been too nervous to even recognize your sarcasm at times, let alone conjure her own. The joke was a sign of the times; the joke was evidence of a thawing that had happened over a blissful spring and long summer, preparing the two of you for crisp autumn. 

The joke showed she loved you. In whatever ways she could. 

The sun continues to creep below the horizon as the two of you continue all your childish antics, your sticky lips eventually finding home against her warming cheeks, noting the blush that spreads like wildfire at the simplest of your touches. You make a point to reach out your thumb, intent on swiping away all the chocolate residue you’d left behind, but she’s quick to stop you. Gentle fingers curling around your wrist, head turning sharply so you can’t reach that tainted cheek. 

“Don’t,” she whispers, even though there’s no one around. 

“I thought you didn’t want my dingus kisses.” 

All-consuming, her shy smile nearly blinds you, “I think I’ll live if we leave it until I go home.”

“It’s sticky,” you laugh a little, trying to reach your thumb out again. She stops you again, “Your hair’s gonna stick to it-”

“Don’t care,” she breathes out, set in her ways as her eyes dart from your eyes to your lips for a brief second, “I really don’t care.” 

Brave and reckless, eager and aching, she surges forward just to get those sticky lips on her own. A simple peck, a quiet slotting of lips against one another, but it says enough. A point is being made – she doesn’t care about the stickiness, and she does in fact want all your kisses. 

The feeling’s sort of mutual.

You sort of want to steal every kiss from her you can get away with, you sort of want to occupy every breath she takes on this shoreline. You sort of want the promise of every single summer of hers, and she sort of wants to just give them over to you freely. 

You know it, surely, when her lips press harder against yours. 

You can taste the subtle fruitiness of her shake, sugar all over both your tastebuds until you really can’t decipher who had which ice cream. Chocolate and orange cream, the bits of waffle cone stuck in your molars, the overwhelming sweetness of it all – she wants it all, with you and only you. At some point, she sets her shake down to her side blindly, lifting that cold, cold palm to cradle your cheek as if you might just be the most precious thing in the world to her.

And you are. And the feeling? The feeling is terribly, terribly mutual. 

Golden hour fades to dusk, faded blue hues wrapping the two of you up as all the vibrant shades of sunset start to soften. The moon has visibly risen in the eastern sky, smiling down at the two of you as all your youthful jubilation is exchanged. Wandering hands, you being limited to only one as you let it curl into the hairs at the nape of her neck, and teeth clashing a bit from the way neither of you can stop smiling. There comes a point where it’s clear she’s kissed away every inch of stickiness off of you, but she doesn’t stop. Neither of you do, not until all the air in your lungs has finally escaped, and the stubborn need to breathe has to override your need for her. 

And even then, you keep close to her. 

You scoot closer, until your skin is flush with hers, as you both catch your breaths. Staring straight ahead, glowing in each other’s peripherals as you lock in on the trees around the edge of the lake. It’s still not quite enough, and so eventually, legs overlap and entangle, joints pressed together until you’re both nothing more than a conjoined knot as Robin rests her head on your shoulder.

The sunset’s pretty, especially reflected off the lake water, but you think she’s even prettier. You’re pretty sure that there’s no natural phenomenon that could ever outweigh her beauty, but now’s not the time to wax that sort of poetry to her. There’ll be other summer nights, other pleasant evenings, to whisper to the girl at your side about all the stars you can count in her eyes. For now, it’s enough to just feel the weight of her slumping against you, and smell the way her perfume intertwines with the lingering sunscreen on both your skin. 

“You think the ducks are gonna come back?” she randomly blurts out, referencing the real reason you two had come out here to begin with.

You’d wanted to feed the ducks. You swore it wasn’t just an excuse to get her alone (it was). 

You throw your head back in laughter, “Yeah. Yeah, they better. I don’t think I can finish this waffle cone on my own.” 

Impulsively, you twist your neck until you can press a soft kiss to the crown of her head, breathing in her subtle shampoo. Your lips linger for several extra seconds, far longer than necessary, but it’s okay. You’ll allow yourself the honor, if for nothing more than to be an effort to contain all the adoration threatening to burst at your seams for the girl you lean further into. 

Once your lips retreat, she lifts her head, turning to glance at you for a moment before she returns the affection without hesitation. Soft lips press into the bare skin of your shoulder, and you both can only sigh in sync, in shared serendipity. 

“I could always help you with that, you know,” she wiggles her brows a little as she leans back, and you’re back to giggling like children. 

“Oh, I know.” 

Sticky kisses and serendipity. The perfect summer evening.

[nerdywriter36]

thank you for the tag, Aster!

this is not the actual last few paragraphs that me and @brendadaaedestler wrote because those paragraphs include big ol' spoilers, but this is a recent chunk written in Sticky Notes and Serendipity!

Christine set the last of the dishes in the dishwasher before closing the door and switching it on, glancing at her neighbor over her shoulder. “Thank you for your help.” “Of course. I was happy to,” Erik said with a smile as he finished wrapping the leftovers on the veggie plate with plastic wrap and put it into the fridge. “Sorelli is sweet.”  “Yes, she is. That’s why I keep her around,” Christine chuckled. “I’m glad the two of you got along.” Erik nodded. “I’m glad that I managed it,” he said softly. “I really wanted to, I just wasn’t sure how it would go. It was hard, but…it feels good, now that I did it.”  “Good, I’m glad you think so. Hopefully this means that the three of us can do more in the future.”  “Maybe. That might be nice.”  “I agree,” Christine said with a smile. “Do you have to get back home, or do you have time to stick around?” “I can stay. I don’t have anything waiting for me at home,” Erik said with a shy smile and shrug. “The company is better here.” 

tagging: @brendadaaedestler @lieblingslok01 @wheel-of-fish @intothemertensverse @angel-with-paper-wings and anyone else who wants to play and share their recent work!

🖋️ WIP Tag! 🖋️

Rules: Share the last few paragraphs you wrote!

I got tagged by two people for this actually so I'm gonna share two snippets here for fun LOL. This one is in response to the tags from @wednesdayandherhyde and @thelovelybookworm!

Here's a snippet from one of my Bad Things Happen Bingo fics (POTO obviously)!:

Raoul couldn't stop the tears from falling down his face. And it was no longer simply because he couldn't blink. The anger, the humiliation, it was too much. He hated it. He just wanted the torture to end. He had thought that the threats to his physical safety was horrible, but he was beginning to think that this humiliation was almost just as bad. “... Do you like it, vicomte?” The Phantom continued gleefully. “Do you like seeing what you have been reduced to? You are my little puppet now, my plaything. Where is the noble, heroic man who rushed into danger to save his beloved fiancé?” Raoul could feel a sob building in his throat, nearly choking him. He couldn't do anything to let it out except through more tears that streamed endlessly down his ridiculous face. He wanted out. He couldn't take this anymore. “… Where is he? Where is he?” The Phantom repeated. “That’s right. He is here, and he is now mine. And there is nothing you can do about it.”

(I think I might have posted this already before but I'm not sure, but I'll assume and hope you haven't seen this yet LOL)

And this is from my POTO Nutcracker AU fic!:

“So, really,” the nutcracker continued, laughing sheepishly. “I should be the one thanking you.” And he bowed low, placing his hat against his chest as he did so. Christine felt her ear tips turn red with pleasure. Then she looked around her. It seemed everything had magically become larger than her. “But… how is this possible?” Christine gasped, and the nutcracker looked around them as well. “Well, it seems you have shrunk,” the nutcracker said, sounding as confused as she was.

(LOL TALK ABOUT A WHIPLASH OF EMOTIONS. FLUFF/ROMANCE VS ANGST/WHUMP)

Tagging: @theragamuffininitiative @angel-with-paper-wings @brendadaaedestler @meilas @achillmango @acht-marin @nerdywriter36 @rose-red-ink @choasuqeen @catkin-morgs-kookaburralover and anyone else who wants to!

[btsydtrash]

Daydream

Childhood sweethearts Hoseok x YN

(Author's note: This ended nicely however I could be tempted to write additons to it. I initially wanted this to be a sweethearts-to-enemies story but I like how it feels at this point. Also, this is my debut project to get back into writing lol. Please, don't kill me for making a whole new one-shot, but I wanted to grease my wheels again.)

In this story, Hoseok and YN are minors so there's no sexual content at all(!!) but they do have a lil chaste kissy kiss. Maybe I could do a time-skip for when they're in college or whatever, but that's only if ya'll want it lol!

Summer, 2004

“Hey, you know you aren’t supposed to do it that way, right?”

Hoseok glances up, eyes naturally squinting as the sun shines in his eyes. He puts up his hands, sticky with ice-cream from his snack, to shield his eyes. In front of him stands an equally-sticky girl. Her cheeks are covered in green ice-cream and her t-shirt has some melted chocolate all over the front. She’s missing a front tooth, clear from where she’s smiling brightly at him, and she seems a little sweaty, her hair sticking to her forehead in some places. Hoseok understands - it’s July, dead in the middle of summer time in Gwangju. It might as well be hell on Earth. 

Hoseok tilts his head to the side and his expression must show confusion as the girl scoffs. “That!”

She gestures to the sandcastle he was making in the sandbox.

“It’s a castle.” He murmurs.

She nods. “I know, I’m not a dummy.”

“So, what?”

She sighs and crouches down. “The poles aren’t high enough and the moat shouldn’t be this way.”

“But it’s my castle,” he says, pouting. “I want it to look like this.”

He’s lying, of course. He isn’t good with his hands but the girl teasing about his castle is making his upset. Who does she think she is?

The girl takes a second to look at his expression before she smiles, and it doesn’t hold any malice in it - only amusement. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

His cheeks burn, and it has nothing to do with the sun this time.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, moving to stand. “Do what you want.”

He moves to leave, no longer wanting to be around this stranger. He scans the playground to look for his dad, but he can’t spot him. No matter, he thinks. I’ll just find my own way home, like usual.

A hand on his wrist stalls his movements. “Hey, don’t go.”

He looks back at the girl and she looks chastised. She continues, “Shall we do it together? Your style and my style mixed together?”

He thinks for a moment before he nods, tentatively. “Okay.”

And that was the beginning.

Sometimes Hoseok thinks back to that day, their first meeting, and wonders if it was serendipity or an omen. Either way, he wouldn’t have changed it for a thing.

—

8 years later

���YAH! Jung Hoseok!”

Hoseok jerks at the familiar shrill sound of his best friend’s voice. He glances to the left from where he’s laying on the roof, needing a brief moment of silence and peace before his Korean history class, to see you. In your left hand, an empty bread wrapper. In your right hand, his backpack.

Hoseok sits up. “Oh, you found it?”

You glower at him, darkly. “You mean the bread I had been saving since this morning to eat during my break time? Yes. I found it.”

He smiles, small but real, and moves to his feet, throwing his arm over your lithe shoulders. “It was delicious.”

You elbow him in his stomach, making him wince. “You owe me after school.”

He takes his backpack out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I mean it, Hobi,” you warn, trailing behind him. He grabs your shoulder and pulls you under his arm, leading you down the corridor to your shared class, listening to you scold him the entire time.

His heart clenches at the nickname. Only you call him that. And it makes him feel amazing every time. You made it in elementary school, randomly whispering it in his ear, and he’s still embarrassed to say he squealed in bed that night, thinking you had something special only for him.

Yes, yes. He has a crush on you. A huge one, actually. You are his first and only love. And, along with it, the literal bane of his existence. This is because you won’t leave him alone, no matter what he does. 

He has always been an underachiever at school. You, on the other hand, are a shining star, academically. You always score first or second in your year group, you are the class president and you are a member of four different teams. That hadn’t always been true though.

In elementary school, you had gotten into your fair share of fights for him. Hoseok had been skinny and poor, and he looked pitiful most days. The other boys would exclude or tease him, for being so close to you - a girl. They would call him gay or say he had mental instability. Then, you would come out and curse and scold them until they cried. One time, you even kicked a boy so hard in his face, you had broken his front tooth. You both got into so much trouble that day, but it remains his favorite memory of his childhood. The two of you, sitting with your arms raised in the principal’s office, covered in cuts and bruises, messy hair and dirt rubbed all over your clothes from the ensuing fight. You had glanced over at him and given him a private smile that said ‘I don’t regret a thing’, and he returned it with his own. ‘I’d do anything for you.’ He hoped you understood it then, and remember it as fondly as he does now. 

The only things Hoseok can do well are sports, and that’s because he has a hard-head. You come to all of his games, no matter where or when they are, even shirking your other responsibilities to support him. And, this just makes him love you that much more.

He feels like you value him. You support him. You show him so much love that it makes him squirm.

As someone who has been shown none of those things from his family, it was overwhelming at first. He tried to push his feelings away, smother them, kill them even, but it never worked. The feelings would build and build and build until he felt physically sick from the weight of them. At 13, he resigned himself to loving you for as long as he lived, but he knew nothing could come from it.

You were just too lovely for a loser like him.

So, he let himself be your best friend - the bestest best friend he could be. And, it has been a pleasant near-decade of friendship, for the most part.

Until now.

You seemed to have a crush yourself.

And, it was killing him inside.

He didn’t know who, but you had been acting weird these last few months. You did your makeup, changed your hair, stopped wearing glasses. All the cute things he thought were so perfect about you, you were steadily erasing and replacing with someone else. He still thought you were beautiful - actually, it’s been hard to even look you in your eyes - but knowing it was for some other idiot was driving him crazy.

He spends the class stealing glances at the side of your face, wondering how pretty you would be in a few years time. He wonders if he’ll be by your side to see what kind of butterfly you would turn into at that time, too. Or, maybe he will be replaced by someone else. Someone who could actually stand by your side with pride.

—

“Hobi,” you whisper into his ears. He woke up a while ago, but he keeps his eyes closed in order to feel you this close to him. His heart is racing in his chest and he feels queasy in the best way possible. “You shouldn’t sleep here.”

He grumbles a little and you move your hand to pat his chest comfortingly. “It’s cold, Hobi. Wake up and come inside.”

He had developed this habit of waiting outside of your apartment complex on one of the benches when he doesn’t want to go back home. Your parents are the kindest people on Earth, and they always let him in. They give him food, let his shower and even sleep on the couch a couple of times. He’s still a kid, so they probably think he’s pathetic but some days, he thinks he would do anything to stay out of his house. 

It just so happens that he loves being at your house. It’s so warm - just like you.

He wishes he could stay in this bubble for longer, pretending to be asleep so you’ll touch him all tenderly as you are doing. But, it’s cold, and he doesn’t want you to get sick, so he holds all his yearning in his chest and blinks open an eye.

“There you are,” you croon, softly, and then there you go, moving your hand away. He can barely catch the disappointment from appearing on his face. “Let’s go inside, hm?”

And, he trails behind you, like he always does.

A happy, stupid fool.

—

The crush you had on whoever was getting worse, and it was getting harder for him to hold back his frustration each time you gazed longingly out of the window or twisted the necklace he gave you for your thirteenth birthday around your fingers, thinking so deeply that your forehead creased.

He pushes his fingers between your brows to smoothen out the wrinkles and you blink back into clarity.

“Sorry, I was just-”

“Distracted,” he grumbles, pushing his egg-fried rice around on his place. He has no appetite, thinking of all the different guys this fucker could be.

You give him a small smile and go back to your own meal.

God, you were so pretty. Your hair falls into your face a little, so he pushes it behind your ear easily. His fingers barely touch your cheek but he feels electricity zing through his body at the small contact. He wants to cup your soft cheek in his hand, feel how warm your skin is for real, but he settles on just… pushing your hair back and turning his eyes to his plate.

He doesn’t see how red your cheeks burn as he looks away.

—

“YN, you should just tell him,” your friend, Kyunghee… (Kyeonghae? Kyeongmi?) says, and her tone of voice makes Hoseok freeze in his tracks. The girls are in the corridor outside of the girls’ bathroom, and he is going to meet you to walk you to your shared fourth period class. But, something about what your friend is saying makes a pit of anxiety open up in his stomach.

He stands with his back to the wall, hidden from sight, but within hearing distance. He knows it’s wrong but Hoseok can’t help himself. It’s like he’s dying to know but can’t bear the truth either.

“I don’t know…”

You sound so unsure, so nervous, so different from what he knows you to be like, that it makes him sick.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

So, this is what you were talking about. Your crush. He bites his lip so hard that he can taste blood.

“I don’t know what I would do,” you continue on, and it sounds like you are seconds away from crying. Crying over some fucker who isn’t him. His fists clench by his side and he realized that his eyes, too, are stinging.

“Isn’t it better to tell him and get it off your chest?” Your other friend, Sana (Sara? Suha?) says, and he wants to put her head through the wall.

No. It wouldn’t be better. She shouldn’t say anything to anyone about any feelings she may or may not have!

“I think…” You pause, and he holds his breath. “I think I’m in love with him.”

And just like that, Hoseok feels part of himself die right then and there.

—

He doesn’t disappear like he wants to. He diligently walks you to your fourth period class, he sits beside you as he always does, he stares ahead with an intensity so strong that the teacher asks him if he’s alright three different times.

But, he doesn’t speak to you.

In fact, he doesn’t even look at you.

And, he can tell he’s hurting you. however, he can’t help it.

You hurt him first.

Yes, he knows you didn’t mean to. And he knows you probably can’t help how you feel either. But he’s hurting inside, so badly that he thinks he might suffocate. As soon as his last class lets out, he’s rushing out of his seat, out of the classroom and he’s walking back home at a pace so fast, he doesn’t realize his thighs are rubbed raw until he takes a shower later that night before bed.

It’s only when he knows he’s alone, when his dad is gone doing only God knows what, that he finally lets himself cry. 

And he cries all night, even in his sleep, over you.

—

Your relationship becomes strained after that.

You notice it almost immediately. Hoseok stops waiting for you after class, he stops miraculously bumping into your in the corridors, he stops smiling at you through the windows of the class when he takes bathroom breaks.

Instead, there seems to be a wall of ice between the two of you, and you have no idea where it came from.

You try to corner him, to confront him about it, because you deserve an explanation, damn it, but he just weasels his way out of it by hooking onto someone else’s backpack and claiming to be meeting them for dinner or outpacing you with his stupidly long legs.

And, as much as it pains you to say it, you can’t just go to his apartment because you don’t know where he lives.

Over a decade of friendship and he has never invited you over to his place.

You aren’t even sure which area he lives in, even though you both had the bus together every afternoon after school since you were thirteen.

He has always been very private about his life, you wanted to respect his wishes, even if it felt like he didn’t trust you. You try not to personalize it - to not make it about you, but it had been hard, especially considering how open you are with him about everything.

Well, almost everything.

Still, this weirdness has to stop, and soon.

You watch Hobi walk out onto the baseball field in his team uniform. While you were inside studying, Hobi was outside being the shining star of your school’s sports’ team. He’s always been talented with his body and athletics, even if he constantly talked down on his skills. You knew he would be a great fit for the baseball and basketball team, so when you pushed him to go try-out, you knew he would shine. And you were right.

He doesn’t look back up to the window like he usually did to smile and wink at you, and it makes your lips draw down in a deep frown.

Did you do something to him? Did you upset him somehow?

Or… Did he find out?

You blanche at the thought.

But, you had been so careful. He couldn’t know.

Nervously, you gnaw at your thumb nail and feel your forehead furrow in a deep frown. You didn’t know how you could salvage this situation with your childhood best friend, but you know you couldn’t stand this uncomfortable stiffness between the two of you anymore.

Hours later, Hobi changes into his sneakers and tosses his school shoes into his locker. He closes the locker to see you standing directly to his right and it nearly scares the life out of him.

“Fuc- YN! Don’t do that,” he scolds, clutching his hand over his racing heart.

On the other hand, your heart is racing for a different reason. Seeing him look at you for the first time in weeks is making you incredibly nervous. So, you steel your expression and growl, “Follow me.”

“YN…”

You stall on your heel and glare over your shoulder. “Do not piss me off. Follow. Me. Hoseok.”

Fearfully, Hoseok clamps his mouth shut and faithfully trails behind you until you reach the park near your school. You walk far into the park, until you can just barely see the street, and turn to face him.

“Spill,” you command.

He avoids your eyes and shoves his hands in his pocket. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Do I look stupid to you?”

He gives you a brief look that reads, Yeah, kinda, dummy, before he returns his eyes to the space behind you.

You approach him but he takes one small step back, and that’s enough to stab at your heart.

“Hobi… Did I do something to you?”

He flinches and swallows, his expression growing pained for a moment before smoothing out into nothingness again.

“No,” he replies. “I just- This is a bit… I just want to make new friends.”

It all tumbles out at the end, like a flood of water that he can’t hold back, and if you felt hurt before, now it feels like he’s punched a hole in your chest.

“I never stopped you from making friends, Hobi,” you mutter, eyes stinging. “Did I?”

You really can’t be sure.

His lips pucker, strangely, like he’s sucking on something sour. Finally, he admits, “A little…”

“How?”

You gasp a little, your throat tight and thick, and your eyes are practically on fire.

“You… YN, you and I are always together,” he explains. He starts pacing then, as if he can’t keep himself still. “It’s me and it’s you, and it’s us. Nobody can come between that. So, of course I never made friends. Nobody wanted to talk to me or be around me, and I never needed anyone else. But now… I just feel like we don’t need to be… We should… I need… I need space, dummy.”

Biting down on what you wanted to say, you let out a shuddering breath and nod. “I understand.”

But the voice doesn’t sound like yours anymore. It’s all garbled and wet and weird.

Hoseok seems to notice too because he stops pacing instantly.

“YN…?”

You glance up and he takes a shocked step back before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you in close. You are pressed tightly against his chest and all you can see or smell is him.

“I didn’t mean it, don’t cry,” he whispers all at once. “I was being mean. I’m so sorry. Please, don’t cry.”

He’s whispering things over and over again, but you can’t really hear anything over the sound of his racing heartbeat. It’s so loud, it almost deafens you. Hoseok sits you both down on a bench and wraps you up nice and tight, swaying from side to side and patting your back until all the choked sobs have worked their way out.

He wipes your face with his sleeve, waving off your worries of mascara stains. “I’ve got a washing machine, dummy.”

You giggle, but it still sounds so wet and inhuman that it makes you both grimace.

“Can I tell you the truth, YN?

You peer up at him through wet lashes, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s staring ahead, and his side profile is so handsome, it takes your breath away. He’s always been so pretty to you.

“The reason I can’t be around you anymore is because I fucked up,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. It surprises you deeply as Hoseok rarely ever swears around you. He seems frustrated, nervous and scared. “I… I promised we would always be together, right?”

You nod.

“We both promised, right?”

You nod again.

He turns to look at you this time, and now he’s the one with watery eyes and flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

He takes in a deep, shaky breath. “I haven’t for a long time, YN.”

“So…”

“I’m in love with you,” he says in a quiet whisper. The wind carries his words to your ears so delicately that it almost feels as if you imagined it. You stare, dumbly, at him while his ears pink under your gaze. He shrinks on himself and bites his bottom lip. “I told you I fucked up.”

“Then I think I fucked up too,” you admit after a long pause. You reach for his face, holding his cheeks between your shaky palms. “I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve.”

His eyes widen until they are incredibly large, and then he’s kissing you. It isn’t hot and angry and wild like you had dreamed. It isn’t soft and chaste like you read about in books. It isn’t sloppy and wet like the girls told you it could be.

It’s warm and firm, like Hoseok always has been. He holds the back of your neck in his hand and moves his other hand to rest on your hip lightly. Hoseok pulls back to press his nose against yours and then pecks you twice on your lips, eyes fluttering closed. Then, he rests his forehead against your own and the two of you just… wait.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?”

You let out a giggle then, and shake your head, pulling back slightly. “Not at all, dummy.”

*end*

[britishchick09]

rewrite eristine sharing some carrot spaghetti soup! ;)

“I, uh, I made some soup,” Erik said. “It’s supposed to be chicken with noodle, but I don’t have chicken or those special noodles, so it’s more like, um… carrot spaghetti soup.” Christine smiled as the bowl was set on the table. “To tell the truth, I don’t care for pieces of chicken in soup. When I was sick as a girl, I’d always hide them in my napkin! But I love carrots. And spaghetti is so unique!” Erik smiled back. “I hope you like it.” Christine looked down at the bowl. “I think I’d like it more if I could eat it.” Erik suddenly realized that Christine didn’t have a spoon and chuckled sheepishly. He grabbed the biggest one he had from the kitchen and dragged the piano seat over to the table, giving the spoon and a napkin to Christine once he sat down. Christine admired the floral pattern on the utensil’s handle before taking a spoonful of soup. “Mmm, this is delicious! Definitely worth the wait.” “It is, isn’t it? Is the spaghetti alright?” Christine nodded. “I can barely tell the difference between this and regular noodles.” “Good! I was worried that you wouldn’t like it because of how…” Erik glanced down at the table. “How unusual it is.” “I don’t dislike something because it’s different.” Christine said, giving Erik a small smile. ('the opera ghost', chapter 16)

inspired by another eristine soup scene, chapter 16 of 'sticky notes and serendipity' by @nerdywriter36 and @brendadaaedestler! it's a modern cherik fic, but it so reminds me of rewrite eristine! definitely give it a read! ;D

bonus comparison:

She swallowed another mouthful of soup before asking, “Would you like to put on a movie?” “We can if you want. Your selection.” Christine considered this for a moment as she chewed one of the carrots in the soup. Eventually, she suggested, “What about Sense and Sensibility? It’s been awhile since I’ve watched it, and I don’t think you’ve seen it, right?” “No, I haven’t. We can do that,” Erik said as he picked up her TV remote.

“Well, this might be a bit silly, but…” Erik lowered his head with a light blush. “I- I like romance novels. Not ones for men and women like Phantastes, but… just ones for women. You know, E- Emma, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, the terribly long Jane Eyre… Books like that.” “I do, too!” Christine said, making Erik feel less sheepish.

[brendadaaedestler]

Sticky Notes and Serendipity, Epilogue: Sticky Notes and Serendipity

Read the epilogue on ao3!

Gosh, I don't even know where to begin. To be posting the epilogue of this fic is just so crazy, and I can't believe we've finally reached the end of this journey.

This fic is easily my favorite thing Em and I have ever written, and I'm so grateful for how well it's been received. This started out with the vague idea of "we should write a modern cherik fic" and has blossomed into this beautiful piece that I'm so proud of, and it's sad to see it come to an end, but I guarantee that we will be writing one shots in the future!

Thank you to everyone who has read, given kudos, left comments, created fanart, and otherwise supported this fic. You all have given us the motivation to keep going and keep writing, and it really does mean so much to us both 💕

[nerdywriter36]

OH my goodness, thank you??? I love them????

This is GORGEOUS, and it’s just a little sketch? Thank you so much for doing this!! ❤️❤️

*COUGH COUGH*

Oh, would you look at that… Hmm… How strange… How did this end up on my sketchbook?

Cherik and Christine based on chapter 25 of Sticky notes and Serendipity >:3

I’ll see myself out, bye.

[nerdywriter36]

Sticky Notes and Serendipity Chapter 28: Emerald Rings and Evening Excursions

AO3

Chapter 28 is up and it's a big one! No hints, you've got to read it and find out what goes on 😉

Thank you all so much for the recent love on Sticky Notes, it has been overwhelming! Chloe and I can't believe how many people love this fic; it makes us so happy to see and read all of the comments. Thank you again and happy reading! ❤️

[queensultana]

Finding the Best Coworking Space in Mumbai for Collaboration and Creativity

A New Beginning

Transitioning from the comfort of a home office to the buzz of a shared workspace felt daunting. I remember the first time stepping into a vibrant place filled with potential. Every corner seemed to resonate with energy.

Where Connections Flourish

I listened as ideas flowed around me, sparking creativity. Diverse professionals worked side by side, each with distinct projects. Multi-colored sticky notes plastered the walls, showcasing brainstorming sessions in progress. That atmosphere ignited a spark in me—this was the essence of collaboration.

Discovering the Perfect Fit

While hunting for my ideal coworking space, I explored various atmospheres. One stood out, its unique balance of comfort and professionalism drew me in. Ample natural light bathed the long communal tables, making deadlines feel less oppressive. People often gathered for knowledge-sharing sessions, and I found myself saying “yes” to new collaborations. Each interaction left me more inspired.

A Tapestry of Perspectives

Not everyone shares my enthusiasm for coworking, though. Some prefer solitude to focus. Others find such environments distracting. Still, I've learned that diverse settings can cultivate creativity and encourage fresh perspectives.

Embracing the Experience

Whether finding solitude in a cozy nook or engaging in lively discussions over coffee, each day brings new experiences. I look forward to walking into that lively space, eager to see what the day unfolds. This journey through coworking spaces has been transformative. Each visit rewrites my understanding of productivity.

Benefits Of Coworking Space In Mumbai

When I first transitioned from my solitary home office to a communal space, it felt daunting. None of the familiar walls surrounded me, just the buzz of energy and creativity from strangers. Initially, the noise was distracting, but soon it became invigorating. Each laugh and discussion provided a rhythm to my day that I hadn't realized I missed.

Serendipity in Discovery

I stumbled upon a coworking space while on a leisurely walk. Wandering inside felt like a revelation. The decor was bright; vibrant art lined the walls, and clusters of professionals engaged in animated discussions sparked inspiration. The immediate sense of belonging surprised me—I found not just a desk, but a community.

Perspectives Shaping Ideas

At first, I hesitated. I knew this setting wouldn’t appeal to everyone. Some thrive in silence, while others require engaging atmospheres. But as I connected with diverse individuals—from freelancers to startups—some deep-rooted barriers began to dissolve. Each conversation, no matter how brief, added layers to my understanding of creativity.

A Toast to Collaboration

The culmination of my experiences led to a thrilling collaboration on a project I never anticipated. Sitting around a communal table, ideas flowed freely, morphing into a captivating narrative. The energy in that room was electric; so many viewpoints intertwined seamlessly. What started as a simple workspace transformed into an incubator for ideas.

Ultimately, that coworking space became my sanctuary. The journey reshaped not just my productivity but how I viewed collaboration, creating lasting connections in the most unexpected way.

Popular Coworking Spaces In Mumbai

Stepping away from home was tougher than I expected. The familiar walls of my room had become a fortress of solitude, but they also muffled creativity. Plus, distractions from the outside world made it hard to focus. One day, a chance encounter with a friend opened the door to a new world—the dynamic energy of a shared workspace.

The Buzz of Collaboration

Walking through that coworking space felt electric. Each desk buzzed with conversations and laughter, the air thick with ideas. I saw freelancers, entrepreneurs, and remote workers all collaborating to bring their visions to life. It became clear that innovation thrives in community, and that was the magic I was seeking. I often joined spontaneous brainstorming sessions, which led to rich collaborations.

Finding My Haven

Amidst the whirlwind, I stumbled upon a corner filled with lush plants and vibrant art. I sank into a cozy chair, sipping coffee while brainstorming my own projects. Those moments sparked creativity I hadn’t experienced in years. I realized this setting wasn’t just another office—it was a sanctuary for growth.

Diverse Perspectives

Some friends reveled in their home offices, finding focus in their surroundings. Others struggled with isolation and longed for the interaction I now cherished. Experiencing both worlds made me appreciate the unique value each offers. I found freedom in collaboration and a sense of belonging that transformed my work life.

The New Normal

As I settled into this new routine, I felt invigorated. Each day brought fresh insights, fueled by the diverse talents surrounding me. I learned that stepping out of my comfort zone was the best decision, and embracing change led to unexpected joys and success.

Amenities Offered

Moving from a solitary home office to a collective workspace felt like stepping into another world. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, filled with conversations that sparked creativity. I remember cautiously entering on my first day. Faces, a mix of familiarity and newness, greeted me. Every desk told a story, each corner held potential collaborations. It was refreshing yet overwhelming.

Uncovering My Perfect Spot

In the quest for the right work environment, I stumbled upon a gem, a coworking space that instantly resonated with me. They offered not just desks, but spaces where ideas took flight. The bright, airy ambiance lifted my spirit. Here, I could brainstorm with fellow freelancers, sharing perspectives that transcended industry boundaries. This synergy sparked my best work.

Perspectives on Connection

As I immersed myself in this vibrant community, viewpoints started to shift. Some thrived in the solitary silence of home offices, while others enjoyed the camaraderie of the shared space. I learned to appreciate both sides; the solitude allowed for deep focus, yet the collaboration fostered creativity that solo work often stifled. Tapping into various insights transformed my understanding of productivity.

Moments That Inspire

One afternoon, an impromptu group conversation led to an innovative project proposal. Collaborating with a designer and a marketer changed my approach entirely. These unexpected moments became the highlight of my week. Meeting people from different backgrounds created a tapestry of ideas that energized my daily routines, reinforcing my appreciation for this new chapter.Embracing the coworking culture in Mumbai has truly transformed my work experience. The vibrant energy and diverse community have not only sparked my creativity but also opened doors to unexpected collaborations. Each day brings new interactions that inspire fresh ideas and innovative solutions.

While coworking spaces might not be for everyone, the sense of belonging and shared purpose I found is invaluable. It’s a reminder that surrounding myself with like-minded individuals can elevate my productivity and provide a support system I didn’t know I needed. As I continue this journey, I’m excited to see how these connections will shape my professional path.

[blackghostm2oart]

SPOILER (I guess?)

I just wanted to draw this scene >:) hehe

It is from an “older” chapter (26) of the phic Sticky notes and Serendipity

(Hope you don’t mind the ping)

@nerdywriter36 @brendadaaedestler

I also tried to scan the pic, idk if it is actually better or it fucking sucks

Plus a lil doodle that I did to understand how to draw his face here

[brendadaaedestler]

Thank you so much for recommending our fic! You’re the sweetest!! 💕💕

I made my sister watch the 1990 mini series, and now she is reading Sticky Notes and Serendipity so she can start her healing process.

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 5

Authors Note: THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR KINDNESS ON THE LAST CHAPTER!! I hope this one is also up to your standards!

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Summary : After being found by Gojo and his first year students in a sticky situation, y/n joins Jujutsu High under the close supervision of Gojo. As time passes, the two of you become close, with a strong unspoken bond forming as you work together. Although, there is something dark looming over the situation, and those at Jujutsu High are determined to get to the bottom of it, before it is too late.

Chapter Summary : Y/n shows significant improvement in her cursed techniques over the next few weeks, but her nightmares continue to haunt her each night. Soon, Gojo sends y/n and the first-years out on a mission to tackle a special-grade curse, but the mission quickly goes wrong when some foul play is suspected.

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; If you'd like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment to let me know :)

Word Count : 6.2k (sorryyyyyyy I had a lot to say in this one)

Warnings : Violence, blood, suggestive remarks, also mildly unedited...

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The past two weeks brought about a change in you. Since the day your cursed techniques had emerged in full, something had shifted—not just in your power but in your confidence.

You’d been training harder, pushing your limits as often as you could, determined to master the new abilities that had manifested. 

Gojo had taken you and the first years on several missions—low-level cursed spirits that provided practice but nothing particularly challenging. Still, you could feel it in the air, the sense that something bigger was coming.

One evening, after a quiet day around the school, you found yourself in the common room, staring out the window as raindrops ran down the glass. The patter of rain was calming, yet your mind was restless. 

Your limbs ached from the long days of training, but it wasn’t the physical strain that bothered you.

It was the nightmares—relentless, vivid, and painful—that plagued you every night. You hadn't spoken about them yet, unsure if they even meant anything, but they were getting harder to shake off.

The door slid open, and you glanced up to see Gojo sauntering into the room. His white hair was slightly tousled, and as always, his signature rounded sunglasses did a poor job of hiding his striking eyes, but his grin was unmistakable.

“Hey,” he drawled, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “You look like you’ve seen better days.”

You let out a soft chuckle, though your smile barely hid the exhaustion. “Thanks, I really needed that boost to my self-esteem.”

Gojo smirked, taking a seat beside you on the small couch, tilting his head with that annoyingly charming confidence.

“You know, I’ve noticed you’ve been skipping out on sleep lately. Must be tough, trying to keep up with me and all.”

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. “How could you possibly know that?”

His grin widened, eyes glinting mischievously behind his sunglasses. “I’ve got great eyes, remember?” He said, shooting you a wink.

You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms. “Right.”  You realized he was referring to his Six Eyes technique. 

So does he just know everything? You thought. 

Gojo clasped his hands together and stretched them out in front of him. “So, what’s up?” He asked, looking over at you. “What’s keeping you up at night.”

You hesitated for a moment, biting your lip as you tried to figure out how to bring it up. 

“What? Are you dreaming of me, y/n?!” He said, dramatically clutching at his heart, a sly grin plastered on his face. 

You punched his arm, “Shut up, you wish.” You teased with a smile on your face. 

“There is something I’ve been meaning to bring up to you though…” The words felt heavy on your tongue, but there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I’ve been having these weird nightmares,” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended. “Every night, for the past week.”

Gojo didn’t interrupt, his head tilting slightly, in an almost cat like manner, as if urging you to continue.

“They’re always the same. Just…pain. Searing, unbearable pain, so real that it sticks with me even after I wake up.” You paused, rubbing your temples.

“But there’s nothing else. No images, no memories—well, there are, but as I wake up, they all fade away, and it’s just the pain. It feels like—like it’s not just a normal dream.”

For a long moment, Gojo said nothing, his playful demeanour fading into something more serious. His face softened, and his eyes looked deep in thought as he stared in front of him. After a moment, he sat up slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he processed your words.

“Nightmares, huh?” he said, his voice lower now. “Didn’t think you were the type to lose sleep over those.”

You sighed as you began fiddling with your necklace. “It’s not about losing sleep. It’s…they feel too real, Gojo. Like they’re more than just dreams. I don’t know if it’s connected to my cursed energy or something else—I’m still new here—but I know that it’s getting worse. I wake up every night with this... lingering feeling, like something’s waiting on the other side that I can’t reach.”

Gojo leaned back against the couch, his head tilted up as if considering something deeply. “Sounds like your body’s trying to tell you something. You’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard lately—maybe too hard.” His voice dropped slightly as if to drive the point home.

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, he held up a hand. “But, if it’s not that,” He continued, “it could be your cursed energy evolving. Sometimes, when your energy changes, the body reacts in weird ways. Nightmares could be one of them.”

You shook your head, frowning. “But why pain? Why something so... specific?”

Gojo shrugged, but his tone was thoughtful. “Your cursed energy is different. It’s still evolving, and it might be trying to tell you something you don’t fully understand yet. Or...”

He paused, the playfulness slipping back into his voice as he gave you a knowing smirk. “Maybe you’re just being dramatic.” 

You shot him a sharp glare. “Hey! What the hell!? You know I am not being dramatic!” You shouted at him accusingly. 

Gojo let out a loud laugh in response, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you with a smug grin. “Relax, relax, I’m just messing with you.” His voice was teasing, but there was an underlying softness in his gaze, which did not budge from yours, that made you pause.

You huffed, crossing your arms in front of you, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, that’s what everyone loves about me,” Gojo replied smoothly, stretching his arms above his head before letting them fall back onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. 

"But seriously, you’ve gotta ease up a little. If you want, we can see if Shoko can monitor your dream or something to find out some answers."

You raised an eyebrow, turning to look at him. “Shoko? You think she can help with this?”

Gojo shrugged, leaning back on the couch as if the suggestion was no big deal.

“She’s smarter than she lets on. If anyone can figure out what’s going on with your cursed energy, it’s her. Plus,” he added with a smirk, “she’s got that whole ‘doctor’ thing going for her. You know, credentials and all.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his casual tone. “You make it sound like you’re just recommending a spa day or something.”

“Well, to be fair,” Gojo said, grinning wider, “a spa day wouldn’t hurt either. You’re wound up tighter than a cursed spirit. A little relaxation could do wonders.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to feel more personal. “You’re not a machine, y/n. It’s okay to take a breath.”

He had a point, though you hated to admit it. The nightmares, the intense training, pushing yourself so hard day after day—it was starting to weigh on you—And you were not some expert sorcerer. But stopping felt like giving in, like letting the fear of the unknown win.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted reluctantly. 

Gojo gave you a triumphant grin, clearly pleased with himself. “I’m always right, you should know that by now.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. "Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk taking on a mischievous edge. “Oh, you’re thanking me now? Careful, y/n… You keep this up, and I might start expecting more gratitude.” He stood up, but his eyes never left yours.

You shot him a playful glare. “You wish.”

Gojo leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping into a lower, teasing tone. “Oh, I do. And trust me, I’ve got a pretty vivid imagination.” His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, a suggestive glint in his eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, heat rising to your cheeks despite your best efforts to stay composed. “Oh God—Shut the hell up,” you muttered, trying to ignore the way his words had affected you.

Gojo laughed, straightening up as he made his way toward the door, giving you a playful salute. “Catch you later, y/n! Sweet dreams.”

You groaned, his laughter echoing down the hall. Even after he was gone, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your pulse still racing from his remark. 

With Gojo, every conversation felt like a tightrope walk between playful teasing and full-blown flirting—and that unpredictability made everything between you that much more entertaining. 

—

The following evening, after a particularly gruelling training session, you found yourself lounging in the common area with Maki, Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi. The air was light, filled with the sound of Nobara’s laughter as she playfully taunted Yuji for losing yet another sparring match earlier that day.

“You’ve gotta stop holding back, Yuji,” Nobara teased, nudging him in the ribs. “You’re making me look bad.”

Yuji pouted dramatically. “I’m not holding back! You just fight dirty.”

Maki snorted. “She’s right though, you know. You’re still telegraphing your punches like a rookie.”

“Hey! I’m getting better!” Yuji protested, throwing his hands up in mock defeat.

“You’re getting something,” Megumi chimed in dryly from his seat, not bothering to look up from the book he was pretending to read. “Not sure if it’s ‘better’ though.”

You grinned at the banter, feeling a warmth in your chest as you watched the exchange. It was nice, these moments of camaraderie. 

You had no memories of your life before waking up in that forest. You didn’t know whether you had friends or a family somewhere, so it felt nice knowing that, despite that, you were surrounded by people. 

Even though there was constant danger surrounding your life as a sorcerer, there was comfort in knowing you had people who had your back. People who you could laugh with, spar with, and, when the time came, fight alongside.

Maki leaned back in her seat, glancing over at you with an amused smirk. “You’ve been quiet, y/n. Something on your mind?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off, but there was a heaviness in your chest that you couldn’t quite shake. “I guess I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.”

Nobara leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand as she eyed you. “Like what? Spill it, y/n.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should say it. But these were your friends—if anyone would understand, it was them. You took a deep breath. “Apparently, the higher-ups are suspicious of me.”

The room went quiet for a moment, the atmosphere shifting. Yuji, who had been lounging on the couch with his head tilted back, sat up straighter. “Suspicious of you? Why?”

You gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I don’t know. Maybe because of the whole... cursed energy—found with no memories in a forest—thing. It’s different from what they’ve seen before. I guess they don’t trust it.”

Yuji frowned, his brow furrowing. “That’s messed up. They tried to kill me last year, too. If Gojo-sensei wasn’t around, they probably would’ve executed me by now.”

“Wait, what?” you blurted, eyes widening in disbelief. “They tried to kill you? Are they trying to kill me?”

He nodded, a humourous smile on his face. “Yeah, when they found out I had Sukuna inside me. They don’t exactly give you the benefit of the doubt when they’re scared of what you can do.”

Maki crossed her arms, her expression hardened. “The higher-ups are always looking for reasons to control or eliminate anything they don’t understand. But they probably aren’t going to go that far with you—you aren’t cursed. You’re just different. They’re cowards, hiding behind their rules.”

Nobara scoffed. “Seriously. They’re a bunch of old geezers who think they can decide who lives and who dies.”

Megumi, who had been quietly observing the conversation, finally spoke up. “They’ll leave you alone as long as Gojo-sensei has your back. He’s the only reason they don’t go after Yuji anymore.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at Megumi’s words. It was comforting to know that Gojo was protecting you, but it also felt like a heavy weight to carry.

“I guess... but what if they find a reason to come after me anyway? What if Gojo can’t protect me forever?”

Yuji leaned forward, giving you a reassuring grin. “If that happens, we’ve got your back. You’re one of us now, y/n. The higher-ups can suck it.”

Maki smirked. “Yeah, and I’d love to see them try. They wouldn’t know what hit them.”

Nobara gave you a firm nod. “Exactly. We’re a team, y/n. They’ll have to get through all of us before they even think about touching you.”

Your heart swelled at their words, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

Despite the uncertainty, despite the danger that came with being a sorcerer, there was a deep sense of comfort in knowing that you weren’t alone in this. You had friends who would stand by you, no matter what.

“Thanks, guys,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It means a lot.”

Yuji grinned, the mood in the room lifting again. “Hey, don’t mention it. We’ve gotta stick together, right?”

Maki nudged you with her elbow. “Besides, you’re not going anywhere. If the higher-ups have a problem, we’ll deal with it when the time comes. You really need to try and relax, y/n.”

Megumi’s gaze softened, and he gave you a brief nod of agreement. “Exactly. You’ve earned your place here, y/n. Don’t let them make you feel otherwise.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling a warmth spread through you. Maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed. Maybe, with friends like these, you could face whatever came next—together.

—

The next day, Gojo gathered you, Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji together in a classroom. “We’ve got a special grade curse,” Gojo announced, his tone unusually serious as he addressed the group. “Abandoned hospital on the outskirts of town. Reports of multiple cursed spirits, and they’re getting stronger by the day.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the mention of a special grade curse. The last few missions had been easy in comparison, but this? This was going to be a real test of everything you’d learned so far.

—

The abandoned hospital loomed before you, its decaying walls and shattered windows casting eerie shadows in the dying light. Vines had overtaken much of the exterior, twisting through broken glass and crumbling stone, giving the building the appearance of something that nature itself was trying to reclaim.

"Classic horror setting," Yuji muttered as you all stood in front of the hospital. "Why is it always places like this?"

"Spirits like places where humans suffered," Megumi said quietly, his dark eyes scanning the perimeter. "Hospitals, prisons, battlefields—they’re drawn to them."

"Stay alert," Gojo said, his tone more serious now as he led the way deeper into the building. "Special grade curses are unpredictable. We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet."

You could feel the tension rising in the group. 

“Anyways, good luck, students! Don’t die!” Gojo shouted in an animated sing-song voice, giving one final wave as the veil lowered between you.

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Well isn’t that encouraging. What a weirdo.” 

As you entered the hospital, the air immediately grew colder, and the stench of mould and decay hit you like a wall. 

You felt your insides stir—this place was so spooky—they were reacting to the oppressive atmosphere that pressed down on your chest.

It was hard to tell what was more unsettling—the building’s slow disintegration or the cursed energy that seemed to pulse within its walls barely contained.

As you moved through the hospital's dark, twisting hallways, your mind was racing. The last few missions had been tough on you, but you had proven yourself over and over again. You were ready for this—right?

Even though you had faced some curses before, there was always an element of unpredictability, especially with a special grade. They didn’t play by the same rules as lower-level spirits, and you had only been a sorcerer for a total of a few weeks.

But you knew you had no choice but to come along with everyone on the missions.

Gojo had said that he needed to keep you busy and away from the school grounds where Principal Gakuganji of the Kyoto School and other suspicious higher-ups had access to you. 

So you just agreed, you didn’t want to do any more tests, you knew you were telling the truth. 

As the group approached the hospital's central operating room, where the cursed energy seemed to be strongest, the floor beneath you suddenly shook. 

A deep, guttural sound echoed through the walls like the building itself was alive and groaning in pain.

"Here we go," Yuji muttered, cracking his knuckles, his fists igniting with the usual blue hue.

The door to an operating room burst open, and a wave of cursed energy hit you like a physical force, forcing you all to slide back. 

Inside the room, a grotesque figure hovered in the air, its body a twisted mass of blackened flesh and pulsating veins. Its face—or what was left of it—was a gaping maw of jagged teeth, and its limbs dangled unnaturally as though they had been broken and twisted in every direction.

"That’s a special grade, alright," Nobara said through gritted teeth, her hands already wrapped around her hammer and nails.

The cursed spirit let out an ear-piercing screech, and the room itself seemed to warp and distort under the pressure of its cursed energy. You covered both of your ears at the piercing noise. 

Shadows twisted and stretched along the walls, making it difficult to tell where the real threat was coming from.

"Formation B!" Megumi called out, taking the lead as the team snapped into action.

You moved to the side, focusing your energy into your palms, ready for action. Gojo had warned you about overextending, but now was not the time to hold back. As the others engaged the cursed spirit, you felt your energy pulsing within you, stronger than ever before.

The battle was intense. Yuji charged in with his usual reckless enthusiasm, landing powerful blows on the curse, while Megumi summoned his shikigami to distract and confuse the creature.

Nobara, always precise, launched her nails with deadly accuracy, each one imbued with her cursed energy.

But despite their combined efforts, the curse wasn’t going down easily. Its grotesque form seemed to regenerate almost instantly after each attack, its twisted limbs snapping back into place as it shrieked and lashed out with dark tendrils of cursed energy.

Suddenly, you noticed more curses charging down the narrow hallway—no—not more curses, duplicates of the special grade? 

“Uh, guys, we have a few more problems coming this way!” You shouted, sending a beam of cursed energy at one of the creatures.

Their grotesque forms slithered out from the shadows, their eyes glowing with a sickly light as they attacked with reckless abandon. 

The cursed energy in the air was heavy—borderline oppressive, and as the battle wore on, you realized with a sinking feeling that you were being overwhelmed.

Gojo, for the first time, wasn’t watching over you.

As you fought, your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. The cursed spirits were relentless, their attacks growing more vicious by the second, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself separated from the group, struggling to hold your own.

And then you felt it—a foreign cursed energy, dark and unfamiliar, taking hold of you. 

It surged through your body like wildfire, the feeling of it coursing through you—it was strong. Without thinking, you raised your hand, mimicking the shape of a gun with your fingers, aiming toward the cursed spirit in front of you. 

A blast of black-coloured cursed energy surged from your fingertips, its force unlike anything you'd ever experienced. 

The energy was different from your usual vibrant blue—it was pitch black, rippling through the air with an ominous weight. 

There was a heaviness to it, darker, more sinister, but at the same time... strangely familiar. It moved through you like a shadow, one you hadn't realized was lurking within.

The cursed spirit in front of you didn't stand a chance against the sudden surge. The black energy ripped through its grotesque form, sending it flying backward, crashing through walls like they were paper. 

The ground beneath you trembled as the creature's screech echoed in the air, growing distant as it was hurled away, disappearing into the rubble.

You tried to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly, the world tilting slightly from the exertion. 

Before you could even see if the special-grade curse had been exorcised, a new threat emerged—swift, a lower-level curse appearing out of nowhere, claws sinking into your abdomen.

The impact was immediate, brutal, knocking the wind out of you. You doubled over, your mouth filling with the bitter taste of blood as it poured out uncontrollably.

You barely had time to process the pain before the curse hit you again—this time, its hand wrapped around your head, slamming your skull into the cold, unforgiving concrete tiles beneath you. 

The ground splintered on impact, the sharp sting reverberating through your entire body. Stars danced in your vision, your mind struggling to focus, to hold onto any semblance of control.

Panic clawed at you as your heart hammered in your chest. The dark energy you’d released moments ago had drained you, leaving your body weak, vulnerable.

You could feel it—the slow creep of defeat as the curse pressed its advantage, its grotesque laughter filling the air, a mocking sound that only fueled your fear.

Your body trembled as you tried to raise your hands, summoning the familiar blue shield of your cursed technique. 

The shimmering barrier flickered to life just in time, forming a protective dome around you.

The curse snarled in frustration, raining down blow after blow, but your shield held—for now. Each hit reverberated through your bones, the blue light shuddering with each impact.

But the cracks were already forming. You felt them—spiderweb fractures spreading across the surface of the shield, each hit making it weaker, thinner. 

You clenched your fists, pushing every ounce of energy you had left into maintaining it, but that dark energy had drained you. The curse was too fast, too relentless.

A crack split through the shield, a web of blue light that shimmered before faltering, and your heart raced as you realized the inevitable.

You were going to die.

​​The cursed spirit’s claws were mere inches from your face when the blue light of your shield finally gave out. Your last line of defence crumbled like shattered glass, leaving you exposed, and the curse roared, lunging for the kill.

For a heartbeat, everything froze. Then, out of nowhere, you felt a familiar presence surge forward. 

Gojo. 

His cursed energy slammed into the battlefield. The air around you shifted, becoming dense, almost suffocating.

The cursed spirits recoiled instantly, their monstrous forms trembling as if they could sense the inevitable destruction headed their way.

Gojo appeared in front of you in a blur of motion, levitating just above the ground, standing tall between you and the four special-grade curses, his back to you as if daring them to try anything.

His aura crackled like electricity in the air, the sheer force of it pressing down on everything around him. You’d felt his power before, but never like this—never so raw, so lethal.

The cursed spirit that had nearly killed you snarled, preparing for another attack, but Gojo didn’t flinch. He raised a single hand, fingers splayed casually, but his tone was ice-cold.

"Stay back."

One of the special grades, a grotesque mass of limbs and dark energy, didn’t heed the warning. It charged forward, screeching, its enormous claws slicing through the air, aiming directly for Gojo’s head. But before it could get close, Gojo moved.

It was so fast you barely saw it—just a blur of white and blue as Gojo flicked his wrist.

A ripple of cursed energy erupted from him, invisible but devastating. The curse was obliterated on contact, torn apart mid-air with such force that the shockwave blasted debris in every direction.

The ground itself cracked beneath the sheer impact of Gojo's technique.

The other three special grades barreled around the corner, coming from where you had been separated from the group, likely sensing the death of their comrade.

Their twisted forms shrank back for a moment, cautious, as Gojo turned his head slightly to glance at them. His grin was there, but it was chilling—predatory, and his eyes were sharp.

"Next." He said coldly. 

Another one of the special grade duplicates, a hulking beast with jagged scales and red eyes, let out a bone-shaking roar and lunged at Gojo.

This one was smarter, possibly the main body, using its enormous bulk to tear through the ground and debris, sending it flying toward Gojo. But it didn’t matter.

Gojo barely blinked as he raised his other hand. His cursed energy flared, but this time, it was different—stronger. T

here was a low hum in the air, the kind that made your skin crawl. With a flick of his fingers, the air in front of him seemed to ripple, and in an instant, the curse was halted mid-charge.

It stopped as if hitting an invisible barrier, limbs flailing, confusion flashing in its eyes.

This must be Gojo’s infinity. 

Then, Gojo clenched his fist, and the curse was crushed—its body caving inwards under the pressure of his cursed energy.

It let out a final screech before it was flattened into the earth, nothing but dust and blood splattered on the ground where it once stood.

The third curse, a lanky figure with long, twisted arms, hissed, its grotesque eyes flicking between you and Gojo as if weighing its chances. Without warning, it shifted its target—to you.

In a blur of motion, the curse moved faster than you could track. One second it was by Gojo, and the next, it was in front of you, its arm outstretched, claws aiming directly for your throat.

You didn’t have time to react. You could barely breathe, the pain from your earlier injuries making every movement agonizing. Blood dripped from your wounds, pooling beneath you as you struggled to stay conscious. 

Your vision blurred, and the only sound you could make was a weak gasp as the curse closed in.

But it never reached you.

Gojo’s energy flared again, a wave of blue light cutting through the air like a blade. The curse froze mid-strike, its arm mere inches from your neck.

Then, with a sudden explosion of power, it was ripped apart, and shredded into pieces by Gojo’s cursed technique. The pieces fell to the ground with a sickening thud, leaving you gasping for air.

“I’d really advise you to stay away from my students,” his voice lower, more dangerous than you’d ever heard it. “I can be quite protective over them.”

There was only one curse left now, and it was by far the most powerful. 

The final special grade stood at the far end of the battlefield, its monstrous form pulsing with energy. It was larger than the others, its body covered in thick, armoured plates that gleamed in the dim light. Its eyes, burning with malice, locked onto Gojo—and then onto you.

The curse bared its fangs, a guttural laugh vibrating through its chest. “You,” it hissed, its voice dripping with malice, “Don’t you feel it?” 

The curse taunted, eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. “It’s almost time for you!” It yelled with a wicked snarl, its voice rising to a fever pitch.

Gojo didn’t react at first; his body was still, and his gaze was fixed on the curse. But you could feel it—the rage building beneath the surface, bubbling up in waves.

"Where did you and your ugly little friends come from?" He asked the curse, ignoring its previous statement, slowly walking towards it.

“When I lowered the veil, there was only one of you. No way I missed these other guys.” 

The curse snarled in response, but before it could move, Gojo was already in front of it.

“If you don’t answer my question—I’ll kill you.” He said coldly.

The curse spoke in response but ignored the question Gojo had asked it. “Dirty human.” It managed to get out.

Gojo’s hand shot forward, palm outstretched, and his cursed energy exploded.

The impact was instantaneous. The curse was blasted backwards, crashing through walls, buildings, anything in its path. But Gojo didn’t stop there.

With a burst of speed, he was on the curse again, kicking it with such force that the ground cracked beneath their feet. The curse let out a deafening roar, but Gojo’s expression remained unchanged—cold, furious.

His cursed energy wrapped around the curse, constricting it like a vice, squeezing until the armour plates cracked and shattered under the pressure.

“You think I’d let you live after that?” Gojo’s voice was calm, almost too calm. “You were going to kill them. You were going to kill my students. That’s pretty rude, you know.”

The curse screeched, but Gojo tightened his grip, his cursed energy surging. The ground beneath them split apart, deep fissures forming in the earth as Gojo’s power reached its peak. His eyes, glowing with that terrifying blue light, locked onto the curse one final time.

“You made the wrong choice.”

With a final, devastating blow, Gojo obliterated the curse. The explosion of energy sent shockwaves across the battlefield, levelling everything in its path. When the dust settled, there was nothing left of the curse but ash and rubble.

Gojo stood there, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched at his sides, blood smeared across his face. His cursed energy lingered in the air, buzzing with intensity. Slowly, he returned back to you.

You were slumped against a pile of debris, barely conscious. Blood coated your skin, pouring out of your mouth and wounds, your breathing shallow and ragged. 

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The pain was overwhelming, and darkness threatened to pull you under.

His cursed energy still crackled in the air, fierce and oppressive, like a storm that had yet to pass. But that didn’t matter now.

What mattered was you.

His heart hammered in his chest as his eyes locked onto your broken form.

Your body was covered in blood, your skin pale, your breathing shallow and labored. He could see the faint rise and fall of your chest, but the sight only made his stomach twist. He was there in an instant, dropping to his knees beside you.

"Satoru..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough to catch his attention. 

He flinched slightly at the sound of his name from your lips—so familiar, yet, in this moment, it felt like it held a weight that was too much for him to carry.

His breath hitched, and for a second, his mask of invincibility cracked.

He was no longer Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the untouchable protector. He was just Satoru, the man who nearly lost something far more precious to him than a battle.

The word echoed in his head, not from his lips, but from your past whisper when you'd said his name before, breaking the invisible wall between you two. Now, as he knelt before you, it felt different—more raw, more real.

His hands hovered above your wounds, trembling, unsure whether to touch you, heal you, or just... hold you.

The usual cocky smirk that adorned his face was long gone, replaced by an expression of sheer panic, something so uncharacteristic of him that even he struggled to recognize it.

“You almost died,” he muttered, voice low and thick with emotion. His eyes, for once, weren’t hidden behind his glasses or his blindfold. His gaze wasn’t calculating or aloof. It was vulnerable, filled with something he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge until now. 

You could barely register the words through the haze of pain. Everything was blurring, the edges of your vision fading in and out. Your body was so weak, every breath you took was a battle. 

Yet, even through the fog of agony, you could feel him—his presence, his cursed energy, the way his fingers ghosted over your skin. The gentle tremor in his touch told you what his words couldn’t.

“Save your strength. We’re getting out of here. I’ll take care of everything.”

But there was no more strength left in you. Your vision darkened further, and your body slumped into his touch. You were fading, and Gojo knew it. 

His emotions roared in his chest, battling against the calm control he was supposed to maintain. He couldn’t lose you, not like this.

“Damn it,” he hissed, his voice trembling with an edge of desperation. 

He whipped his phone out of his pocket quickly and held it up to his ear with his shoulder, his thumb gently brushing over your wrist to reassure himself that your pulse was still there. 

“Damn it, y/n...Shoko! I am coming back to the school now, y/n is in critical condition—please be ready.” He hung up the phone with urgency.

The faintest rise and fall of your chest reassured him you were still with him, barely hanging on. But that was enough for now.

The last thing you saw before unconsciousness took you was his face, inches from yours, those baby-blue eyes soft yet filled with an intensity that sent a warmth flooding through your cold body.

Gojo heard footsteps running down the hall. 

The first to arrive was Yuji, his eyes wide with worry as he took in the scene. "Gojo-sensei!" he called out, his voice shaky as he stumbled over the rubble toward you both.

Nobara and Megumi were right behind him, their faces pale, their exhaustion evident, but the sight of you drained the colour from their faces even more.

Yuji’s gaze landed on your bloodied, battered form, and his heart sank. “Y/n…” he whispered, his voice full of disbelief. He rushed forward but hesitated, unsure if he should get closer. “Is she…?”

“She’s alive,” Gojo muttered, his voice low and tight as he attempted to keep up his lighthearted attitude, “What kind of teacher would I be otherwise.” He let out a soft chuckle, “But she’s hurt—badly.”

Megumi’s eyes darted between Gojo and you, his normally stoic expression faltering.

He had seen you fight, and all three of them felt you unleash that dark black-hued cursed energy, but seeing you like this—so fragile, so broken—it was something none of them had been prepared for. "What happened?" he asked, his voice rough.

Gojo shifted slightly, his grip on you tightening as he stared down at your unconscious form, the tension radiating from him palpable. "Something was off," he finally said, his voice laced with frustration and suspicion.

The students exchanged confused glances. Yuji frowned, stepping forward. "What do you mean?"

Gojo sighed, his usual playful demeanour nowhere to be found as he continued, "When I lowered the veil, there were no signs of these other cursed spirits. Not even a trace of their energy. I was monitoring everything, and they didn’t exist... until they did."

Nobara’s brow furrowed, the gravity of the situation settling in. "So, what? They just appeared out of nowhere?"

"Exactly." Gojo’s voice was sharp, filled with a rare intensity that made the air feel heavier.

His usually carefree posture was replaced with something far more serious, more protective. "Curses that strong don’t just pop up. Someone—or something—wanted us caught off guard. Those curses weren’t supposed to be there, especially not after I lifted the veil."

Megumi’s eyes darkened with realization. "A setup."

Gojo nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the surrounding area once more. "That’s what it looks like. Whoever orchestrated this knew we’d be here. And it seems they wanted y/n—" he glanced down at you, his expression softening just slightly, "—and the rest of you vulnerable. If I hadn’t come back when I did…"

Yuji’s fists clenched, anger simmering beneath his usually easygoing expression. "But why now? And why would they target y/n like that?"

Gojo didn’t answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on you. His jaw tensed as if holding back something deeper. "I don’t know yet," he finally said, his voice low. "But this wasn’t just a random attack. Someone’s playing a dangerous game."

Nobara, ever the blunt one, crossed her arms, frustration clear in her tone. "Whoever they are, they’re going to pay for this."

Gojo’s lips twitched, a shadow of his usual smirk returning, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Oh, they will," he murmured, voice dark with a rare, controlled anger. "But for now, we need to get y/n back to Shoko. She’s lost too much blood, and this cursed energy…"

His voice trailed off, and for a moment, none of the students spoke. The atmosphere was thick with unease, the weight of what had just transpired sinking in. Whatever this was, it was far from over.

"Let’s move," Gojo finally said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He stood, lifting your body with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the sheer power he had unleashed only moments ago. 

As the others gathered around, a collective sense of resolve washed over them.

They might not know who or what had orchestrated the attack, but one thing was certain: they would fight back.

And Gojo would make sure that whoever was behind it would regret ever targeting you.

[britishchick09]

bams.. i guess you can't have a multi chapter eristine story without it! 😏🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈 (end of 'sticky notes and serendipity', some of 'city of angels' and now 'unsung' 14)