Coming From A Former Army Who Left The Fandom And Group Due To The Toxic Fandom Becoming What It Is Now,

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are searing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me 😭 and by beta read i mean left the funniest fucking comments everywhere and i will forever remember how hard i laughed 🤣 i adore u sm thank you <33 SHES ALSO A WRITER TOO GO CHECK HER OUT on ao3 she is an amazinggg writer there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

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taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

A Happy Ending Yet to Happen

Characters: Xiao x F!Reader (Y/N), implied traveler x Xiao at end, ft. Venti and Paimon Fandom: Genshin Impact WC: 8.2k words Tags: character death, immortal(?) x mortal, grief, sadness, tears, angst, spoilers for Xiao’s voice lines and stories, Xiao might be slightly OOC in some scenes A/N: I’m pretty sure you can’t call Xiao an immortal since yakshas can die and stuff but like they live a long time so it sorta works HAHA. Also this hasn’t really been beta read and so there’s probably a couple of mistakes, sorry about that!

Keep reading

okay so i’ve seen a lot of people on here talking about NSFR meaning “not safe for ramadan” and a lot of the times they mentioned putting food/drink/music posts under that tag, which i know it’s to help us muslims but in all honesty that defeats the purpose of ramadan.

if you don’t know what ramadan is, it’s basically a holiday for muslims where we fast from sunrise to sunset, no food or drink at all. and the purpose of this is to resist desire and put yourself in the shoes of the less fortunate. the entire point of ramadan is having self discipline and fighting the urge yourself and not being tempted by a picture of food or drink etc.

keep in mind we cook/go shopping for food throughout the day so we are still surrounded by it, there is no need for you to tag it specifically for muslims. if you tag food/drink for other reason that is your business of course.

+ i’m sure nsfr was not started by a muslim person and while it is nice and lots of muslims are thankful most of us just don’t see the point because it’s on us to resist/not listen to audible music and stay away from cursing and anything nsfw. by all means you can still use it i suppose but for the most part it’s kinda useless to us. but i do encourage everyone to have appropriate tags for their nsfw obviously! but for the most part “nsfr” is pushing miss information to non muslims and it’s not really being an ally while you’re intentions are good!

if you really would want to help muslims in ramadan please educate yourself and raise awareness about what’s currently happening in france! thank you!

links:

twitter thread about nsfr & tagging food/drink

twitter thread about what’s happening in france

hijab ban petition

[ reblogs are okay! + if you would like to wish muslims a happy ramadan we say Ramadan Mubarak :) ]

Better than you could aspire to be - Tighnari

Angst time! This is an isekai, not as long as I feared it would be. Tighnari is the one that goes into a different world, it'll make sense. Gender neutral reader, sad ending

Tighnari worked in a fast food place in his own world. See, he was a student, and the only place that would willingly take students were such places. He grew to hate this more intensely as he continued to work, somehow keeping up with his studies in botany. The smell of the food that smelled so unappetising after working around the food items for so long, the fact he had to scrub his ears to get food out that had been thrown by a rude customer, and on top of that he had people constantly pointing phones into his face and gushing over his 'cute ears'. He found himself daydreaming the day he could finally stop working in this hellhole, where he could finally enjoy his work in a field he loved.

City noises were excessive as well, the transport to his university not helping with anything apart from getting him from point a to b. Again, he knew people were taking pictures of his ears and shamelessly talking about how big they were. Some people said it must be a cosmetic, others saying that he was compensating for something else. Truthfully, he grew to despise them. The way people had no shame, the way some people even had the audacity to touch them without asking.

One day, he finished a particularly heavy shift, and he flopped onto the bed without even having the energy to stay awake. In his uniform, he tries to remind himself to change once he wakes up.

--

The next day, he wakes up in an unfamiliar forest. The flora around him didn't look familiar, the strange statue that loomed above and various other contraptions he was clueless about. He goes to check his phone, only to sigh when he realises that his phone was dead.

You hear the man call out, waking you up early, and you decide to go out to investigate. Looking over, you see a man in a strange uniform you never saw before. Sure, you usually stay in the forest, but you saw a lot of outfits on those who got lost in the forest and this was nothing like that. Walking down, you wave at the man, who looks up from the device in his hands.

"Hello! Are you lost?" You ask, seeing the man nod. "You are currently in Ghandara ville."

"Where is that?" The man asks. "I've never heard of that place."

"Sumeru? Teyvat?" You ask, the man in front of you only growing more confused. Looking down, you see he keeps glancing at the thing in his hands. "What's that?" You ask, genuinely curious.

"Oh, this is my phone. Do you have a charger handy?" The man asks, only to look more defeated when you explain you don't have one, nor do you understand what the phone was. "I'm from _, I work in McDonalds." The man explains, only to see you now confused.

"Well, I'm sure we'll figure out something!" You exclaim, hoping to cheer the man up. I am _, head forest ranger." You introduce yourself.

"Tighnari, Botany student and fast food worker." The man introduces himself.

You nod, taking interest in him stating he was a botany student where he was from.

"Well, if you'd like I can get in touch with a good friend of mine to get you into a botany course!" You start, before continuing."And you can stay here and work as a forest ranger!"

You expect Tighnari to go against the idea of being a forest ranger in an unfamiliar place, and he does hesitate for a second, but he decides to nod. Of course, you agree to train him up, and you show him to the room you were in before moving your stuff to someone else's room to stay with them.

Everyone meets Tighnari, who seems nervous for some reason. Thankfully, everyone was welcoming, saying he was sure to enjoy working as a forest ranger full time before they head off for their routes after you assign this to everyone.

--

"Please, he's really lost!" You ask, Cyno looking at you as you continue to beg him for the chance to let Tighnari into a botany course despite having no prior qualifications. "I think he's gonna be a good match for the course!"

"And how can you be so certain of this?" Cyno asks, not convinced. "Let's say he gets too attached to the world he isn't used to, as long as he wasn't lying. What happens if he wakes up back in his own world, only to miss the feeling of this one?"

"I'm sure he could adapt! He's adapted well to this one, and there's no harm in letting him in the course. Give him a shot, and if he isn't good enough then I'm fine with just taking him in as a forest ranger." You continue, Cyno closing his eyes. He knew you only spoke like this when your mind could not be changed, no matter how long the conversation lasted

"...Fine." Cyno finally lets out.

--

You work with Tighnari, and over time he gets adept with a bow. So, you decide to test him on his accuracy. To your relief, it appears he seemed to pick it up rather well, and you don't fully believe him when he claims he never used a bow before.

Turns out he was really good with his course work as well. You saw him work with his books often, even assisting other people with their own courses and keeping on top of his coursework.

The forest rangers really liked his company, and over time they grew more confident with their compliments to him.

"You're so good with that bow!"

"It's admirable how quickly you've been able to pick up these skills."

"Your medicine is better than what the head ranger does! Oh, no offence, _!"

"If _ isn't careful, you're gonna be taking the leadership role here!"

At first, you enjoyed seeing him gain confidence with these comments, but some of them really stung. You knew that while you were liked, people deemed Tighnari to be objectively better for the role of head ranger. He was doing really well with his studies, he was able to help people and keep his grades up, and on top of that he still had his spare time. You barely were able to keep up with all the withering zones, every time you turned your back one would materialise and make itself known to another ranger, and you'd have to take it on.

That was until Tighnari proved he was better with clearing these withering zones than you.

It felt like he was trying to make you feel awful for your lack of competency in your work, but he was incredibly friendly. You knew he was only trying to help, and that's what kept you from just giving up and giving him the position. So, you keep reminding yourself that these pointers you've been giving to Tighnari have helped him, and you were the one who got him onto that course.

--

Cyno sends you a letter, stating it was urgent. When you let everyone know you had to visit someone, you see them brush it off before they turn back to Tighnari. You don't spare a second glance, heading off as you hear someone talk about a dendro vision. As much as you wanted to talk, when Cyno required you it was never ideal.

--

Cyno looks particularly unnerved as he gazes at this portal in front of him. Turning, he spots you, and he waves you over.

"This is what I was warning you about." He explains. "This is Tighnaris world. I would have sent you with Tighnari himself, however that won't be ide." He explains, sighing out.

"Huh? But why is that a problem?" You ask, tilting your head.

"Since Tighnari obtained a vision, sending him back to his world would be less than ideal." Cyno states. "We need to send someone in his place. Or else, this portal won't go. He continues, looking over at you.

The look in his eyes is all you need to know.

"Oh man..." You huff out. "I have to go, don't I?"

Cynos eyes widen, shaking his head.

"Not necessarily, all we need is a non vision wielder." He begins. "We could send one of-"

"I'll go." You nod, Cyno opening his mouth as he tries to speak. "I was the one that worked so hard to keep him here, so I see it as fair."

You were also very insecure over Tighnari being classed as better than you in every way, but you don't dare tell Cyno this.

"...I'll miss you, you know." Cyno admits, a sad smile as he realises you were going to go even if he advocated against this. "Is there any way I can convince you-"

You shake your head, stopping Cyno.

"The feeling is returned." You admit.

Before you walk through the portal, taking Tighnaris place in his world, you give your best friend one long hug.

I want amber to adopt me

Levi x Reader

I’ve been brainstorming this for a while now so here ya go.

Summary: During Levi’s first battle with Kenny you come to his rescue only for Kenny to discover that you and his nephew have been married for quite some time

Disclaimer: I don’t own Attack on Titan or any of its characters no matter how much I wish I did, I also don’t own you which is a shame because if you’re reading this we clearly have the same interests and could be friends. I don’t own the GiFs below either I couldn’t choose which one so ya got both. Enjoy

Warnings: swearing, violence, sexual references, Levi being an amazing husband

Levi x Reader

You had heard the gunshots before anyone else had. They had echoed through the inner city of Wall Rose causing screams to rip through the air as the people below you ran in the opposite direction, their panicked yells ringing through your ears. You yourself had been flying through the Trosh District, your ODM gear whizzing as it grappled you from building to building, the wind clawing at your skin and blowing through your (y/h/c) hair, your eyes watering slightly at the sharp gails. Your brown cape flying behind you, you had been trying to locate the wagon in which Eren and Historia had been taken in.

You had to contain your exasperation, Eren was always getting kidnapped or injured it ran your husband ragged trying to protect that boy. Now the scouts were on the run from the law since Erwin was framed and it wasn’t easy tying to look after a group of inexperienced and immature scout children.

You and Levi had contemplated having children yourselves before the drama had begun and before you were wanted by the military police, but after trying to look after the ones in the Survey Corps it was beginning to dawn on you that maybe you wouldn’t mind waiting a little while longer.

More gunshots echoed catching you off guard, so much so that you had jumped violently in your line of trajectory, gritting your teeth you strained your body to pull yourself up and away from the streets below, the leather straps pulling against your slim body as you swung, trying to pull yourself upwards to avoid becoming flattened into the side of a house or the street below. Your muscles were aching from having to manuvor through the buildings, your heart hammering against your chest at your efforts to try and fend off the military police, they had new gear and new moves. You didn’t know who had taught it to them but the technique seemed familiar, it was unpredictable too messy for the usual standards of their combat.

You landed grunting slightly, on top of a roof, your eyes scanning the sea of houses trying to find out where the gunshots were coming from, you could make out a trail of grey smoke coming from the other side of the district. You would bet every last penny you owned that that was were Levi was, he was always right in the grip of danger he just seemed to be a magnet for it. You heard more people land around and for a split second thought they were members of the military police, you whipped around grabbing your blades pointing them at the throat of the nearest presumed enemy, only to freeze at the sight of Jean, holding his hands up in surrender quivering slightly.

“Easy (y/n) it’s just us.” Jean stammered, you glanced around to see Mikasa, Armin, Sasha and Conny surrounding you. Relaxing you sheathed your blade and backed away from the Jean the boy stumbling away sighing in relief.

“Do you know what happened to Eren and Historia?” you asked turning to Mikasa, the girl glanced up at you blood smeared on her face.

“Yes ma’am their heading towards the gates, we were on our way over.” she replied the others nodding. You sighed glancing back over to where the smoke was still climbing into the sky, explosions and gun shots still ringing through the city, you clenched your jaw.

You could go with the children and save Eren and Historia or you could let them go alone and go aid Levi with the military police. The answer seemed very obvious but if you let the kids go alone they could end up losing Eren and Historia and everything your fallen soldiers had fought for could be in jeaprody.

Too many lives had been claimed at the expense of Eren, not that it was the boy’s fault of course. You could still see the panicked looks of your squad as they were taken out by the female Titan only escaping death yourself as you husband swung in just as the female titan’s hand was about to swat you. You would never forgive yourself if your comrades had died in vein.

You chewed on your lip, the pressure of time clawing through your mind.

“Did you hear those gun shots?” Sasha asked the others nodding interrupting your thoughts.

“There was a man there, I saw him as I was going by.” Conny added, you perked up at the boys words turning your head slightly to hear him better.

“A man?” you questioned.

“Yeah” Connie replied “tall skinny, old looking wore a big black hat, draped in a black trench coat, quite scary.”

You froze, your heart stopped beating for a second as cold wave of dread washed over you. You knew the military police’s new fighting movements seemed painfully familiar, you knew they had a new commander but you wouldn’t have thought it was him of all people, the man you and your husband had resented together. If Kenny Ackerman was the one incharge of the military police then the situation was worse then you had thought it to be.

“Mikasa, Jean, Armin I want you to chase down that wagon, get Eren and Historia back kill anyone who crosses you. Sasha and Conny keep the skies clear make a path for them.” you commanded launching your grappling hooks onto the building your ODM straps pulling your body off the roof top, as your feet were about to leave the surface a hand grasped your shoulder holding you in place.

“Ma’am you want us to kill people? That’s not right!” Sasha cries out Armin nodding behind her “our enemies are titans.”

“Kid, I know it’s confusing but this isn’t the same world you were trained in. Things have changed, we don’t have time to be ethical we need to be direct and do whatever it takes to get those two back.” you growled, the conflict was evident in their eyes their own morals being strained by their orders. You knew they would do what was right and listen to you, but you understood their conflict but they all nodded hesitantly.

“Where are you going?” Armin asked quietly, you sighed looking out at the city where the destruction was coming from.

“I’m going to see an old friend. Now get moving!” you yelled before shrugging Sasha off your shoulder launching off into the sky not even bothering to look back at the teens as you flipped over the roof tops.

You could feel a growing anger inside you as you weaved through the streets, the gas hissing from your gear launching you higher and faster through the air, desperate to reach your husband and his uncle. You hated Kenny as much as Levi, the sick bastard leaving you and Levi to fend for yourself in the underground at a young age.

You yourself had been orphaned at a young age much like Levi, he and his uncle had stumbled across you trying to steal from them, what you were stealing you couldn’t remember but knowinf tje cruelty of the underground it could have been anything that meant survival. Instead of killing you, Kenny decided you would be of use to him, he taught you to use the ODM gear stolen from the military police members he had cut down, taught you how to fight and barter. How to say hello with a knife.

After time you and Levi had grown closer, nights spent huddled together for warmth and teaching each other new tricks with various weapons, even Kenny at some points had shown a rare and minor maternal side, it had felt like a small dysfunctional family. Maybe that’s what caused Kenny to turn his back on you, maybe it was all becoming to real for him.

On that day he had decided he’d had enough of playing ‘dad’, that greasy and disgusting man had tried to grab you on the street of the underground, Levi had jumped on him quick to rush to your aid and protect you like he always had. It was only after the beat down the two of you noticed that Kenny had gone, slipped out between the crowd and never seen again.

Of course after it had sunk in you and Levi had carried on with life, you had to. But Kenny’s abandonment had cut a hole deep in both you and Levi, one that had never fully healed. He was the only relative Levi knew he had, he was the only parental figure you had known, no matter how much of an alcoholic he was. So to have him here now of all places, you knew Levi would kill him if Kenny didn’t kill his nephew first. You were not willing to see that happen.

As you continued to navigate your way through the air you heard the familiar sound of ODM gear behind you, you already knew it wasn’t the Scouts. You launched yourself into higher abobe tje houses managing to execute a tight flip, as you spun round you managed to catch a glimpse of who was chasing you. Three members of the military police were hot on your trail, pistols in their hands where their blades should be.

Growling to yourself, you landed on a roof top making a mad dash across it your body screaming at you to run faster the air tight in your lungs. You heard one of them yell their bullets whizzing through the air. You grasped your cloak and threw it towards where the bullets were coming from, the shrapnel getting caught in the thick brown fabric acting as a shield.

You tossed it to the side and tumbled behind a chimney, the stone protecting you as you waited for them to have to reload. You slowed your breathing wincing as more of the bullets dented the stone, tensing your muscles waiting for the onslaught to stop you would be ready. As soon as the bullets stopped and you heard the clicking of bullets being changed you launched yourself from over the chimney, grabbing your swords and launching them at two of the military police members their blood filling the air flying onto your face, their eyes wide as your silver blades ripped through their flesh.

Launching your grappling hooks from your gear, the spiked latches flying through the final enemies head, a small hole being pierced through her skull, her brain making a cringe worthy squelch as the hooks propelled through her forehead and out the other side, her body spasmed violently before dropping to the floor. You were still in the air briefly landing on the roof grabbing your blades back and retracting your grapple from the woman’s head, her body lurching at the movement as you took off back into the sky, the bodies behind you sliding off the roof into the street below.

You released a grunt as you pulled yourself round the streets taking a final corner, the scene below you causing you to shudder, your brain almost stopped working at the sight before you.

About twenty military police members stood around what appeared to be a tavern, their guns all pointed at the windows and doors where you assumed Levi was hiding, fear hitting you like a lightning bolt at the thought of him cornered like an animal. But that wasn’t the only thing that made you panic, infront of the doors stood Kenny, his signature black hat resting on his head, his heavy boots making him stand at an intimidating height, lanky locks of greasy brown hair sticking out from under the signature hat. You could see his mouth moving and you knew he would be taunting Levi, it’s what he did best.

You grappled one last hook into a nearby house flying through the air drawing your blades holding them high above your head, years of pain and hurt bubbling inside of you finally having clawed it’s way from the depths of your sea of emotions. You knew you weren’t thinking properly otherwise you would have been much more strategic, years of training in the corps, years of experience with Titans had gone out the window. Kenny was no Titan. He was worse.

“KENNY!” you screamed, all eyes turning to you, Kenny’s expression shifting from one of mocking to one of surprise and unexpected shock. You careened toward him, not even caring what happened next as you swung your blades down hoping to land a blow to your uncle in law, a loud clank of metal could be heard as your blades clashed with his arm, he must have been wearing armour underneath the coat.

Damn. You thought to yourself, your arms shaking as you tried to push against him, his face twisting into a grim smirk. Your legs trembling at the amount of force he was pushing against you, you grit your teeth glancing at the cobbled floor your feet were sliding against. You glared definitely into his cold eyes, you weren’t going to lose. You were not as strong as Kenny, of course you weren’t, but you were smarter and quicker.

As he continued to push against you, you continued to glare at him giving a cocky smirk, his eyes widened before you dropped your weapons and ducked under his long legs causing him to stumble forward all his weight used to push against you sending him flying forward, you pressed a leg into his back causing his fall to be inevitable, his face crunching against the floor.

You held a blade to his neck from his position on the floor, his face hidden by the rim of his hat, but you could make out a sneer on his gaunt face. Your eyebrows knitted together, a low growl escaping your lips as you lean down to pick him up by the collar of his shirt a sudden surge of strength raging through you.

His face had aged, smooth creases sketched into his pale skin, his dark eyes still icy and uncaring, his face still pinched and thin from years of living in the underground. Kenny has been an admittedly handsome man in his youth, it could even be argued he was still rather attractive by older women, but to you he was the slime ball who had left two children to die.

He hadn’t seemed to change much personality wise though, his face twisted into an arrogant smirk flashing a set of yellowed teeth from a lifetime of smoking and liquor, a grey stubble around his chin and his breath hinted with tabacco and spirits. If it wasn’t for your anger you would have dropped him from disgust.

“I was wondering when you’d show up (y/n), where ever Levi goes you trail pathetically behind.” he sneered, your glare hardened as your hands gripped tighter on the collar of his trench coat lifting him higher off the ground “it’s good to see you’ve both made a life for yourselves in the Survey Corps, it’s made you a better fighter.”

“I should kill you.” you seethed, had you been talking to anyone else they would have coward at your terrifying tone and vicious expression, your position over the pathetic worm asserting dominance. But not with Kenny, even with your fist readied to pummel his face, even with your stance ready to fight, even with your experience in killing not only titans but people all he could do was laugh. An insane and chilling laugh that made you double take, your eyes widening his body shaking with each chuckle.

“You haven’t changed a bit have you sweetheart?” he mocked his pet name sending goosebumps over your body your silence amsusing him “always rushing into things without thinking them through, I had hoped I’d taught you better then that if not me then at least the Survey Corps. Levi isn’t here to save you from your mistakes now though is he? He’s cornered like the rat he is, you though...you’re no longer a street rat. You’ve become quite the vixen my darling.”

His cruel eyes trailed along every inch of your body, taking in your heaving chest and slim waist with nicely toned arms and legs, your (h/c) hair falling around your face in soft waves, your top buttons of your shirt undone from the previous struggle, revealing your collar bone and slight cleavage. You almost gagged as Kenny licked his lips his eyes sultry and glinting with slight admiration at your development over the years.

Gone was the scrawny and ill looking child he had once known, now stood beside him a strong and very attractive woman. He couldn’t deny you had filled out in certain areas very nicely, if he wasn’t in the middle of trying to battle his nephew he would have spent longer looking. You felt your heart hammering in your chest anxiety whispering in your ear at what his next actions would be. You knew his soldiers were pointing their pistols at your head, ready at any second to pull their triggers and launch lead into your flesh. You knew Kenny was the only thing that was preventing that from stopping, you hated to admit it but that bastard held all the power you really hadn’t thought this through.

He was right. It was just like when you were a kid, whenever Kenny sent you and Levi on a mission of some kind you were always the first to act on impulse, Levi had continued to save your ass every time you screwed up. You knew he couldn’t come out of the tavern without being killed himself unless you pulled a miracle out here, but you also knew that Levi would be formulating his own plan to get you out safely and himself.

“What are you doing here Kenny?” you hissed pointing your blade closer to his throat, the man smiled wickedly as his “friends” cocked their guns pointing them higher to your head from their distances. Your eyes watched them cautiously, you were heavily outnumbered it didn’t matter what you did, even with your advanced skill set it was impossible to escape by yourself.

Your eyes shifted to the right to look at the Military Police stood by the enterance to the tavern, you could see a small flash of light from the window, it happened so quickly that it couldn’t even have been there, but your expert eyes knew what that was. It was Levi, he was signalling you to stall Kenny, you had worked with your husband on the field for too long you knew all of his motivations through the smallest actions.

This proved one thing though: Levi had a plan.

“Good girl.” Kenny breathes as you retracted your blade, the metal weapons scraping against their holders as you backed away from Kenny letting him stand. You didn’t flinch as the man rose to tower above you, your expression bored as he leaned over you “don’t look like that (y/n), you look to much like Levi. That’s never a good thing.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” you replied placing a hand on your hip narrowing your eyes “what are you doing here?”

“Can’t an uncle drop in and say hi to his nephew?” he asked brightly throwing his ands out to the side, you arched an eyebrow trying to contain the growing anger, Levi needed you to stall him but you didn’t know how long you could go before you knocked one of Kenny’s teeth out.

“Sure, but I don’t think he wants to see you. You left him remember? You left both of us on our own in the underground.”

“And look how great you both turned out. One a Captain of the Survey Corps the other a member of said Captain’s squad. Really quite impressive.” Kenny chided.

“You left us to die Kenny.”

“No. No. No. I left you to thrive. You could both fight, you could both steal and take what you wanted. You didn’t need me anymore and I didn’t want you anymore. Besides, Levi’s raging hormones were beginning to get on my nerves. The little shit could barely compose himself around you.” he seemed amused at your refrained shock his lips twisting upward.

Obviously Levi had harboured feelings for you, you had the ring to prove it too. Your wedding had been a huge event in the gossip of the walls, every corner of Wall Rose and Sina had heard about your marriage to humanities strongest all those years ago.

Did Kenny know too? You wouldn’t put it past him. The man was resourceful, of course he was he had tutored you and Levi he had to have been to create such fine fighters. If Kenny knew would he use it against you or your husband? No. Kenny wasn’t here for you, you didn’t even think he was here for Levi, you knew he was here for Eren and Historia but why? What purpose where they to him? You figured it didn’t really matter so long as you stopped him. So you would play it like he didn’t know, you wouldn’t let him know if he didn’t.

“Did my runt of a nephew ever actually tell you about his feelings for you? He tried so hard to hide it but it was so painful to watch him rush in to save you whenever you needed it, or give you his rations and you didn’t even see the pedestal he put you on.” Kenny laughed and his men followed suit there mocks crawling up your spine, you felt your skin crawl trying not to be embarrassed. It was stupid to feel embarrassed by school yard taunts especially from Kenny, but it was getting to you.

“Are you done?” you sighed rolling your eyes, Kenny smirked and stepped forward until he was centimetres from you, he raised a dirty finger and ran it along your cheek you squirmed uncomfortably but stood your ground waiting for him to stop.

“Still have the usual sarcasm I see. Gotta say it’s a complete turn off but I suppose Levi would find that appealing.” he pulled his finger away and turned toward the tavern cupping his mouth his voice raising “Yo Levi! You mind sharing?”

From inside the tavern hidden under the bar Levi growled his fists clenching. Shit. He hadn’t meant it to go like this, you were supposed to be getting Eren and Historia back, Kenny wasn’t even meant to be here. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t expect you to come find him after the first gunshot, he would have done the same if the roles were reversed.

He was trying to think of a way out. The bar tender who stood shaking before him had a gun he could use, but it was a one pump shot gun and he would need one direct hit. How could he do that if Kenny was outside? He needed you to get Kenny inside the tavern, Kenny wouldn’t send someone else to kill his nephew the man was too prideful. He was just playing games with you but Levi knew Kenny wasn’t going to kill you so you were safe so far. He just needed to signal to you that he needed Kenny in the tavern to get a good hit. His eyes landed back on the mirror shard he had used to flash signals to you from the window, reaching up the the sunlight he began to move his hand the light bouncing through the window.

“Guess he doesn’t mind.” Kenny shrugged.

“I don’t need to take this from you.” you growled beginning to walk away, your blade cansiaters bumping against your leg as you moved, your hands clenched into tight fists as you turned your back on the man, you were halted in your tracks as one of Kenny’s men pressed a gun to the side of your head causing you to freeze as you held your hands up in a surrender position. It was in that moment you noticed the glint coming back from the window it’s flashes resembling morse code that you and Levi had taught each other, you knew what he needed you to do but you weren’t sure how.

If you played along it should be ok. Right? Kenny was unpredictable, you knew that trying to guess what he would do next would be pointless.

“What is that on your finger pretty girl?” Kenny asked his eyes lighting up at the gold band that rested on your left ring finger, the sun causing it to light up now it was out in the open. Kenny for the first time you had known him seemed genuinely surprised, his mouth twitching and his breath hitching in his throat ever slightly. “So who’s the lucky guy?”

“You’re smart figure it out.” you snapped at him, Kenny gestured for the gun be lowered, you sharply elbow the man who held the gun to your head in the ribs and fold your arms hiding the ring from view.

“Don’t tell me...don’t tell me...” Kenny cracked into a huge grin a condescending laugh ripping from his lips “looks like Levi did actually grow some after all. When was the wedding?”

“Three years ago.”

“Wow, time does fly doesn’t it? Welcome to the family I suppose. Is he any good? Can’t imagine a runt that small being much satisfaction to a girl like yourself.” Kenny bullied licking his chapped lips causing your eye to twitch in disgust. He was only doing it to get on yours and Levi’s nerves but tjebirge to punch someone has never been greater.

“Believe me Kenny, he does the job.” you growl feeling your patience begin to wear thin.

“Well this calls for a celebration drink doesn’t it?” Kenny cried out sliding to your side and wrapping a long arm around your shoulders squeezing you into his side and practically dragging you up the steps of the tavern “I was just going inside anyways to take care of a rodent infestation. You guys stay out here, we won’t be long.”

You didn’t protest as Kenny kicked open the swinging doors to the tavern, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floors all eyes on the two of you as you were pressed harder into his side. Your eyes scanned the area looking for your lover trying to workout what he had in mind, you knew that whatever it was you needed to get away from Kenny before it happened.

From under the bar Levi felt his heart stop slightly at the sight of his uncle’s reflection in the bottles that lined the shelves of the bar. He could clearly make out you being squeezed into his side and he felt a jolt of anger ripple through him at the thought of Kenny having his arm around you. It was death penalty alone to touch a Captain of the Survey Corps spouse in an aggressive hold, but to touch Levi’s spouse in anyway he deemed a threat was rewarded with more then death. There was nothing much he could do though in his situation, Levi quietly cocked the gun that he clutched to his chest waiting patiently for his next move.

“Yo Levi!” Kenny yelled causing you to wince at his volume “how come I wasn’t invited to the wedding? Hurt my feelings ya know.”

At no reply you heard Kenny growl to himself before he let you drop to the floor, you landed groaning in slight pain as your body hit the hard floor, you froze when you felt one of Kenny’s pistols be placed against your temple. When did you become such a damsel? Oh right when you impulsively came over to save your husband. You would never learn. You couldn’t do anything without being shot, you have to wait for Levi to whoop ass.

“It’s ok, I’ve forgiven the both of you.” Kenny said dryly clicking the pistol pressing it deeper into your temple his finger twitching on the trigger, Levi felt his heart begin to squirm in his chest anger crippling his thoughts, his eye brow twitched with pent up hostility as he watched the reflection of his beloved wife at the feet of his cynical uncle with his gun pressed to her head “maybe I’ll visit for the baby shower, you don’t mind do you sweetheart.”

Levi’s breath hitches in his throat as he watched Kenny lean down to whisper the last part into your ear, you visually shuddered and as much as Levi wanted to act now he needed Kenny to be standing and closer in range. The captain was poised waiting under the bar to use the gun the second it was appropriate, the bar tender still shaking violently in fear. His steely eyes never leaving the bottle that reflected what was happening behind him, he watched as Kenny stood up straight and began to move forward his gun still aimed at you.

“Come on Levi I won’t hurt you. Just a family reunion.” Kenny cackled.

“Hey Kenny...” Levi drawled, his uncle froze his eyes widening at the sound of his nephews voice “don’t touch my wife again.”

Before Kenny could comprehend what was going to happen Levi reaches his arms over the top of his head slamming the gun against the bar his eyes trained on the figure in the bottle and pulled the trigger. The gun spat out a bullet, the impact sending Kenny flying backwards out through the doors into the street, thinking quickly you sprung to your feet and grabbed a bar stool as Levi hopped over the bar too grabbing his own bar stool before you both threw them out the windows, glass shattering everywhere followed by more gunshots as Kenny’s military police began to fire at the inanimate objects.

You and Levi both waited your backs pressed against each other , his foot tapping the floor to signal what he wanted you to do and you nodded . Finally the last of the gun shots calmed down and your hands flittered over your ODM grapples getting ready to carry through the plan.

“What? Is that a chair?”

“They both are!”

At that moment you launched your grappling hooks flying through the window, Levi crashing through the opposite one, both your grappling hooks flying through the body of the enemy as you were pulled onto the roof your blades quickly cutting down the enemies their blood filling the air, their panicked cries ripping through your ears as you were propelled over the roof, Levi mimicking your actions as you were launched into the sky letting your grapples detach.

You were flying it seemed, the world below you like a model town before gravity pulled you back towards the ground, the wind howling your blades readied to strike at the military police members who were also airborne. Gritting your teeth you spun trough the air, your blades slicing the flesh of your enemies their bodies falling limp the ground, scarlet blood stained your face and clothing as you landed sharply on a roof the bodies lauded out around you. Levi landed beside you, his eyes not giving away whatever thoughts were churning in his mind, he looked up to you his brow furrowed slightly.

“Where are the others?”

“Getting Eren and Historia back, should be east from here.” you replied wiping your sticky blade handles on your cloak, Levi nodded his gaze shifting to Kenny who lay unconscious on the floor.

“Levi?” you asked staring at your husband with slight worry, Levi didn’t want Kenny dead. He couldn’t ever really want the man who had taught him to survive be killed, but you knew your husband didn’t forgive him for leaving him on the streets with you by yourselves. You didn’t know what to expect from your beloved at this point, would he kill Kenny? Or leave him be? It wasn’t like he had the luxury of time to decide, you would make the choice for him.

You slowly walked over to where your husband stood, his steely gaze still trained on the man on the ground. Gently you raised a hand tugging on his arm, he flicked slightly and looked over to you, his jaw unclenching and his body relaxed.

“Come on, we have bigger issues.” you soothed, he nodded ripping his gaze from his uncle and and turning to walk off the rooftop with you, you shot him a small smile and readied your gear to fly towards where the others needed your assistance. However just as your grapples were about to be released you felt a firm grasp on your arm, before you could work out what was happening Levi had spun your round into his arms your lips locking with his own, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulled you into him, his lips gently pushing against yours as his tongue roamed your mouth, his fingers grasping your white shirt tightly as your hands pressed into his firm pectorals. The kiss was gentle and loving, you could almost taste the relief he felt that you were ok and that Kenny hadn’t harmed you. Your legs grew slightly weak as he deepened the kiss, your hands looping around his neck to pull on his raven hair, pushing your bodies closer together.

You gently pulled away his hands still gripping your shirt, and strong arms around you in a protective grip. He rested his forehead against your own, blood from your skin staining his, but he isn’t seem to mind. It seemed like forever had passed before he broke away, launching his grapples into a nearby building and disappeared round a corner. You stood there on the roof still in slight shock at your husbands actions, you figured he must have been worried if he was open to kiss you like that in such a time consumed mission. But you didn’t have time to worry about now, sighing you unleashed your grapples, the wires hissing as they clamped onto a building your harness pulling against your body as you were whisked into the air.

Down on the ground Kenny peeler his eyes opens catching a glimpse of your retreating figure a smirk on his face, his hand reaching up to flock his hat further up his head.

“Well done Levi. You might not be such a disappointment after all.”

...

Ugh I kind of hate it but if you enjoyed it then thanks. Thank you again to my new followers I really appreciate it. If you enjoyed this and want to see more crappy things like this then follow and like, if not I get it it’s all chill. Enjoy your day.

Buy me a coffee?

Chicken Mushroom Skewers

Ingredients

2 large chicken breasts, cut into large chunks

12 oz small mushrooms, such as baby bella

1/4 cup soy sauce

1/2 cup bbq sauce

1/4 cup sake or mirin

1 tsp ground ginger

1 tbs ground garlic

Pour all ingredients except chicken and mushrooms into a pot with 1/2 cup water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and simmer for 20 minutes

Put chicken and mushrooms into a container. Pour liquid over chicken and mushrooms, marinate overnight

Slide chicken and mushrooms onto skewers. Alternate between chunks of chicken and mushrooms, be sure not to load too much onto one skewer, 4-5 pieces of chicken for a large skewer is ideal.

Pour leftover liquid into a pot and bring back to a boil, you can add 1/3 cup BBQ sauce if desired. Reduce heat to medium and summer until thickened, about 20-30 minutes.

Brush sauce mixture over one side of skewers, broil at 500 degrees F (260 degrees C) for 8 minutes

Flip skewers, brush the other side, and broil for an additional 8 minutes

This dish goes great with some rice

The Age of Our Youth

Aki x Fem reader

Summary: Some loves are meant to be forgotten, but others are meant to follow you a lifetime.

A/n: I'm honestly so nervous about this 😭, I feel like this chapter is bland, but I hope y'all stick around enjoy this short series.

Genre: Romance. Angst. Modern Au.

Warnings: None really for this chapter

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Masterlist | Wc: 7.2k

With your heart thumping against your ribs, you stare at the droplets of water sliding down the expanse of the window of the restaurant you're seated in, pen tapping lightly against the white surface of the table. You can feel the strings of your heart being tugged at, sweat forming in the palms of your hand, and your heart feeling as if it’s going to climb up your chest and spill on the table. Nothing you can think of to calm your nerves, not even the tea in front of you seems to have helped, and the nauseating feeling only grows whenever a small ‘ding’ of the door opens and closes.

You refuse to look up scared that you’ll meet the blue eyes that once you used to take your breath away. The same blues that you had looked up to as if they held the universe in them. You knew better now; years of empty ice cream containers, sleepless nights, and countless heartaches had taught you that no man truly holds the totality of the world. You were truly starting to regret agreeing to this get-together Denji had set up with the entirety of your friend group. Checking the face of your wristwatch, you notice that they’re all late.

“Sorry I’m late, looks like we’re the first ones here,” the sound of his voice sends a shiver up your spine. The air no longer seems able to travel into your lungs. Aki's voice had grown deeper. Deep and melodic. “It’s nice to see you again, y/n.”

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you look up from between your lashes, avoiding his eyes, and give him a tight-lipped smile, “It’s nice to see you too, Aki.” You pause for a second, taking in the full sight of him while he stands at the edge of your table. His hair is longer now, sill pulled back from his face with a few loose strands falling into his eyes. The dark bags from long night shifts no longer decorate the bottoms of them. He holds himself up with the same confidence, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, something new you notice. You wonder if he dresses like this all the time now. “How have you been?” You ask, shaking your head and lifting the empty cup of tea to your lips.

Aki pulls the chair out in front of you, sliding into the seat smoothly, raising his hand to call over the waiter, “I’ve been fine. What about you? How have you been?”  

“I’ve been better,” you reply, setting the up-down, eyes focused on the remains on the bottom. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you think back to the recent Facebook update you had seen on his profile thanks to your mother, your heart aching a bit when you bring it up. “Congrats on the engagement by the way,” you clear your throat, feeling the need to clarify your reason for knowing about it when you and he are no longer Facebook friends, “My mom told me about it.” 

Aki nods his head, lips formed into a thin line, “Thanks.” 

You pretend not to notice the long sigh he takes afterward or the way he fiddles with his fingers. You certainly don’t notice the way his eyebrows furrow in what seems to be frustration at the mention of his engagement. you put the pen you had been fiddling with back into your purse along with the notes you had been taking.

The air is filled with tension, each of you refusing to look at each other directly. How long had it been since the two of you had been in the same room? Five years? Three Years? The last time you remember seeing him was at Denji’s Christmas party a few years ago, but you hadn’t talked to him. Instead, you had avoided him the entire time you were there, mostly because you didn’t want him to introduce you to the girl that was hanging off his arm, the same girl he was now marrying. 

“I saw your brother the other day,” Aki interrupts the awkward silence.

“Oh? What did he say?” 

“Mmh, not much, he just told me that your parents are selling their house.” 

You're now facing each other, eyes meeting for a second before yours drift down to the cup in your hands, “Y-yeah. It was random too…it’s been on the market for a few weeks.” 

He nods again, the awkwardness settling again, you almost want to cry when the waitress finally shows up to take Aki’s drink order, filling the quiet. You stare out the window, watching as cars pull in and out, waiting for Denji’s blue mustang to pull into the parking lot. You glance at Aki, who stares at the bottles of liquor on the shelves behind the bar. You notice that his hair is now a bit longer, a few loose strands curling around his ears. Ears that now have new piercings, the jewelry reflecting the light above you. Your hand instinctively travels to the small flower-shaped in the inner part of your ear, the one that matches his. 

“I think they're here,” Aki’s voice draws your attention back to the parking lot, a dark blue mustang with neon lights flashing under pulling up.

“Finally,” you whisper under your breath, watching as both Denji and Power walk towards the front, both laughing and pushing each other along the way. You can feel some of your rigidity loosen at the sight of them, your shoulders relaxing finally. The door dings when they walk through their loud voices bouncing off the walls. A handful of people turn around and look at them. “Oh my god,” you whisper, sinking into your seat, trying to act as if you don’t know them even though they're being led straight to your table. 

“Aki! Y/n! You’re already here!” Power greets you both.

Shooting the hostess an apologetic smile you nod your head and make room for Power next to you, “You two are late.”

“Sorry, we got pulled over,” Denji answers, knitting his fingers together in front of him, “I got a ticket for speeding.”

Power laughs next to you, leaning onto the table, her chin resting on the back of her hand, “Can you believe this dumbass thought he wouldn’t get stopped when he sped up after clearly seeing a cop parked.”

Across from you, Denji pouts, rubbing his hand over his eyes, “Whatever,” he mumbles. Turning the attention away from himself, he looks at you, a friendly smile spread across his face, “Haven’t seen you in a while, y/n. How have you been?”

Returning to his smile you try to ignore how the whole table turns to look at you, “I’ve been busy, but okay. What about you? How’s the wedding planning? Last time I saw you or Reze was when we met up after we went dress shopping.”

“She’s doing fine. We just need to find a venue, which someone had to beat us to the only decent venue in town,” He answers, jamming his elbow into Aki’s arm playfully.

Ignoring Denji’s comment, he opens the menu that’s placed in front of him, his thumb and forefinger rubbing together separated by the piece of plastic, a habit you remember him doing during all your dates. You catch yourself watching him do it, a small smile starting to curl on the corner of your lips, but you shake your head and turn back to Denji.

“Can’t you just look for a different place? There are some nice venues outside of town,” you tell him, opening your menu on the table, barely glancing at it while your fingers dance along the surface of it.

Denji shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes, “Reze wants to have the reception in that place. It’s apparently where everyone in her family has gotten married.”

“Who hasn’t gotten married in that place,” Power adds sarcastically to the conversation, laughter erupting from you.

“Try telling her that,” Denji laughs.

You feel warmth spread across your chest as you laugh with them, your head feeling like it's floating up. It feels as if you’ve traveled back in time, the jokes that get tossed back and forth between the three of you, Aki giving the three of you annoyed looks, looking up occasionally up at the ceiling as if that would get the other two to be less quiet. All the awkwardness is replaced by nostalgia.

A homesick feeling settled in the bottom of your stomach, that spread up to the back of your throat, for a time when things were much easier. When you didn’t have the gaping hole in your chest with adulthood. Before you longed for success, happiness, love…for something to make you feel fulfilled. You yearned for the carefreeness that came with the early days of your youth.

~

August 2012

The sun burns the skin of your shoulders and nose while you look up at the sky, sweat coats your forehead and travels down your back, and the tank top you're wearing changes to a dark shade and does very little to cool you down. Even the water your feet are soaking in does very little to cool down the burning feeling. You can hear the chirping of the cicadas that sing along the riverbank, the sound causing you to feel irritated combined with the heat. You’re already doing your best to ignore the way the wood beneath you is hot and uncomfortable to be sitting on.

A few feet away from where you sit you can see the two idiots who are the cause of your dilemma. The reason why you're out in the scorching heat instead of sitting in front of the ac. Denji and Power splash water at each other, their laughter and howling can be heard from several blocks down, but no one is out in the streets to complain. Only people who were out of their minds would be out in this heat. And apparently, you were one of those people having let them drag you out of your room with the disguise of studying at the library for the first test of the semester, only to end up at the small riverbank of the town.

“You know if you get in the water you’ll feel much better!” Power swims up to you, pushing herself up on the small wooden dock you're sitting on.

You scrunch your nose at her, watching as droplets of water travel down the skin that her two-piece swimsuit doesn’t cover, “No, thank you.” 

“Come on,” she begs, twisting her hair causing water to hit your thigh, “it’s not even that deep.” You shake your head again, laying down on the wood a loud hiss leaving your lips when your skin makes contact with the wood. Power scowls next to you when you don’t give in to her, pushing herself up and reaching for the oversized shirt she had worn to come here, “Fine, then we’re going home.” 

“Power,” you say her name sternly, knowing that she’s about to throw a fit at you without getting in the water with them, “ you know I can’t swim.”

She doesn’t look at you, choosing to slip into her sandals, “It’s whatever. Denji, let's go!” Power glances at you, her lips pressed into a line, “You hungry?”

You sigh, already knowing that if you don’t give in a little she’ll most likely be angry with you the rest of the week, “Yeah.” You stand, dusting yourself off, “want to go to that small restaurant by campus?” you ask, already knowing her answer since it was one of her favorite places to eat.

Her mood seems to change towards you when you offer to go there, a smile spreading on her face almost instantaneously. She hoops her arm through yours, resting her chin on your shoulder to look at you, “That sounds perfect actually.” Glancing over her she calls out to Denji again, scaring him and almost causing him to fall back into the water, “Denji, hurry up! I’m hungry!”

Hooking her arm through yours, Power leads you back to the small apartment the three of you were currently able to share, a courtesy of your absent father trying to crawl his way back into your life ever since his now ex-girlfriend had left him. It was a decent-sized apartment with two bedrooms, a small balcony, and its living areas, big enough for three fresh out of high-school students. It was located a few blocks from the campus, surrounded by small boutiques and restaurants. To think that your father had put this much thought into choosing the apartment was unreal and you refused to believe that the man who hadn't talked to you since you were twelve had put in the effort.

It doesn't take you long to enter the neighborhood, the three of you avoiding the sun by staying under the large umbrellas many of the shops had hung outside their establishments. Power drags you and Denji down the sidewalk, in a hurry to change and head to the small restaurant.

You can feel your bones aching with every step you take, the heat of the sun heating the sidewalk which then seeps in through the soles of the sandals you wear. Looking behind you, Denji is shirtless, sweat dripping down his temples and his face a bright red, you're not doing any better with your shirt clinging to your body, yet somehow Power seems unaffected by the smoldering sun. Her hair isn’t stuck to her back or forehead and there are no signs of moisture on any part of her body as she skips ahead. You almost want to strangle her for it too.

Reaching the front of the building, you and Denji let out sighs of relief, quickly followed by groans when you both remember that the elevator is out of service, watching Power take two steps at a time. By the time you reach the coolness of the apartment, you don’t want to go back out into the heat, your brain is thinking of ways to delay the trip to the restaurant till after the sun goes down. Meowy greets the three of you along with the sound of the AC when you open the door.

“I think I’m dead,” Denji moans, letting his body collapse in front of the wall ac, face pressed against the cool boards of the floor. 

You follow him, landing on his back, laughing a little when he groans, and then rolling over onto yours, “Me too.” The room falls silent while you both listen to the water of the bathroom start to run, and the soft sound of the ac motor. You can hear Power moving around in washing the remnants of the river water, and you let yourself relax under the sounds of the quiet house, staring up at the dancing shadows of the house plants you keep. Turning your head you find Denji with his eyes closed, breathing softly through his nose. You know he isn’t asleep, the lack of snoring is a clear sign, so you move closer to him, letting your head rest on his elbow, “You know, I think we should get her a pet to keep her busy, I don’t think the cat is enough.”

The comment immediately makes the two of you burst, tears streaming from the corners of your eyes, and the tiredness of the walk disappearing.  

Power walks back into the living room, the cat wrapped in her arms, “What’s so funny?” 

You shake your head sitting upright, smiling up at her while she makes her way to the kitchen for some water, “Nothing. I’m going to shower real quick and then we can go.” 

“Okay,” both respond in unison, Power making her way to the pantry for cat food and Denji dropping his head back on the floor. 

You make your way to your shared room with Power, sun pouring in from the large window in front of your bed, drawing attention to the large mess of clothes spread out across the floor. “Power! Please get your clothes off the floor before we leave!” You call over your shoulder, knowing that you’ll probably end up cleaning up the mess when you get back. Pushing aside some of the mess, you make a path to the closet that still has most of your clothes in it, pulling out a satin top and a pair of pants, expecting the evening to be cooler than the day.

You make your way to the bathroom, which is a few feet on the opposite wall from Denji’s, you and Power dictating that if anyone should break in he should be the first to go instead of the two of you when you first moved in, and check the clock on your phone. 

Two O’clock in the afternoon. There were still six hours to kill till the sun started to go down, and you could take an hour in the bathing which would leave you with five. But of course, you would want to eat before eight so really you had four, you could probably convince Denji to also take an hour-long shower, so really you had three. 

Three hours to find something to distract Power. You were going to have a long afternoon.

~

It’s still early in the afternoon when Aki finds himself standing outside in the blistering heat of the summer under an umbrella that did very little to help keep him cool. His white dress shirt was sticking to his back and he had sweat stains on his underarms. The ice-cream cone that he was holding was melting, making his hand sticky, only making him more irritated. He wants to go home, back to enjoying what was supposed to be his day off, his eyes traveling to the small air-conditioned convenience store at the end of the block.

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” Himeno asks next to him, paying for the ice cream she had bought from the vendor.

“Yeah. I am,” he responds, licking the bottom of his cone where the ice cream is pouring over the edges.

Himeno leads them away from the shade, towards a small bench that is seated under a small tree that does not protect them from the sun. “Okay, then what was I saying?” 

“You were telling me that the suspect we’re after usually hangs around this place and that you wanted to go out for drinks.”

Himeno sighs, crossing her legs, “I hate how you do that.”

The space between them fell quiet, both slowly eating while watching as people walked in and out of the buildings of the small neighborhood, neither of them in a particularly talkative mood with how suffocating the hot air felt. Aki isn’t sure how much time passes, the curves of the sun just starting to hit the line of the horizon; the sky is painted in a bright orange and grayish blue, and the air around them finally starting to feel cooler. His shirt is still clinging to his body, and his head felt like it was being repeatedly hit. He is tired of waiting and counting down the minutes before he can go home, but when Himeno suddenly stands, he follows her lead and comes up to his feet.

“That’s our guy, the one in the red,” she points to a man in his late twenties coming out of the convenience store across from them. He’s wearing a faded red shirt and blue cap, head hanging down. Himeno throws the stick to her popsicle and starts to cross the street, “Come on, we don’t want to lose him.”

They both cross the street, keeping a few yards between them and the man they’re following. There aren't many people on the street, so it’s difficult to make it seem like they are pursuing him, even with the distance between them it’s very evident that they are. Himeno takes her left hand out of her pocket, sticking her thumb out towards the street on the other side, telling Aki to switch sides.

Aki nods his head before crossing over, reaching over his head to tighten his hair. He keeps his eyes on the blue cap of the man, the crowd around them slowly growing as they approach a busy side of town, walking side by side with Himeno who remains on the other side. He can see the man looking over his shoulder towards Himeno, his hand turning to all sides looking for an escape. Aki starts to walk faster, soon walking a few paces ahead of his superior, ready to run if he needs to.

From the back of his peripheral vision Aki sees Himeno take and light a cigarette, her eyes always on the man in front of her. She takes a step off the sidewalk before it even happens, letting Aki know that he should start to start to run, the man sprinting across the road right after she does. His blue cap falls off his head when a car almost hits him, but it doesn’t stop him from running to Aki’s side. 

Aki’s sure the man didn’t expect two people to be following, because he can see the way his shoulders relax when he looks over his shoulder and sees that Himeno isn’t even following. The man’s pace slows down once the bottom of his feet touches the sidewalk, thinking that he’ll be able to blend into the crowd and lose his pursuer. A second later letting out a surprised yelp when Aki pushes him to the ground, his hand pushing his head into the cement and twisting one of his arms behind his back. 

“What the fuck!” 

Aki pushes his knee into the center of the man’s back, Himeno jogging up behind them. “Akio Sato you're under arrest accused of money laundering, the possession of drugs, and the trafficking of drugs along with several other misdemeanors. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you,” she recites, just as two cop cars pull up next to them.

Aki cuffs both arms of the man below him before forcibly pulling him up and handing him over until one of the officers walks up to him. Looking he feels some of the stress from his shoulder release when he sees Angel, a friend of his from the academy. “Damn, already caught your first criminal before me.” 

Smiling, he shoves Akio towards Angel, “Of course I did.” Aki feels his heart pounding in his chest, his head feeling light. He’s breathing heavily, adrenaline running through his veins still. He lets out a shaky laugh, head tilting back to look up at the sky, the sun burning his eyes.

Angel smiles at him, reaching up behind his head to tie his hair, “Well that’s great, I’m proud of you.” The back of the car is shut, the door automatically locking, “We should celebrate later,” Angel looks over the top of the car, his partner getting in, “Text me and we’ll make plans.”

“Sure. Bye, man.” Aki waves a quick goodbye. He resumes looking up at the clear sky, his heart still pounding in his chest.

Himeno walks up next to him, lighting a new cigarette, smoke coming out of the corner of her lips, “Now that we’re done here, how about we go out and eat something nice? There’s this nice little restaurant around here.” 

~

You somehow manage to delay your trip back out into the hot weather until the sun is just starting to fall below the skyline, painted in bright pinks and pastel purples, by offering to trim Denji’s hair and then forcing him to shower. The air feels much cooler now, small gusts of air blowing, the skirt of the dress you're wearing fluttering around your knees. There are more people out on the streets now that the sun has gone down, some are sitting on the benches outside of convenience stores and restaurants while others order from the food trucks that are parked on the edges of the sidewalks. Couples are walking, their hands intertwined and smiles spread across their faces, making it difficult for your trio to walk down the narrow walkway. 

Power and you walk with your arms hooked to each other, Denji walking right behind you in between your arms, walking in the inner part of the sidewalk, you walk closer to the building. You catch endings of conversation, Power nudging your side when someone says something juicy, all of you finishing the ending with your version of what the conversation could be about. Lips inches apart and foreheads less than an inch from touching. Both of you leaning towards each other, whispers and giggles reaching Denji. 

When you reach the small restaurant, the blue light from the fluorescent bulbs comes out through the window, lighting the small piece of sidewalk in front of it. There are only two other small groups of people inside spread out. The three of you walk in and head towards the rectangular window that takes up the center of the furthest wall from the entrance. Pen, who owns the place greets you, her salt and peppered hair pulled back out of her face into a tight bun. She greets the three of you with a wide smile like she does every time you come in, resting her elbows on the counter, “Hi guys, what can I get you?”

“I’ll have the same as usual,” Denji answers, already walking towards the usual spot you sit in near the back corner, a smiley face neon sign each face colored a different color, and four different colored chairs. 

You and Power lean over the counter, looking over the menu that’s taped onto it, though you both know you're going to order the same thing. Pen hums, her nails light beating against the surface. “We do this every time, and you girls always end up ordering the same thing,” She teases. 

“You’re right, I’ll have what I usually get, but I’ll have tea instead of strawberry soda,” you respond, pushing yourself off the counter to head to your table. You sit on the opposite side of Denji, leaning back against the wall and resting your heels on the edge. Looking at Denji, running your fingers along the surface of the table, “I haven’t seen Reze lately.”

Running his fingers through his hair, he looks up at you, “Uh, yeah…we sort of had a fight last Saturday, and I haven’t been able to get in touch with her.” 

“Oh. Well if you want to talk about it or need advice, Power and I are here for you. You know that right?”

Denji nods, “I do.”

“Good.”

Power joins you at the table, her fingers reaching for the hair band that’s around your wrist, “Pen said our food will be out in a few minutes. What are you two talking about?”

“Just talking about how Reze hasn’t been around much,” you answer, looking at Denji out of the corner of your eye.

Smiling teasingly, Power leans back in her chair, only two of the legs remain on the floor, “What did she get tired of you and dump you? I mean I get why she would.” 

From the corner of your eye, you see Denji’s jaw clench, and his knuckles turning white. You lightly kick one of Power’s chair legs, “Power stop. They just had a very bad fight, and she hasn’t gotten back to him. Let’s change the subject, and try to have fun.”

The door dings open, your attention snapping towards, and a woman with short hair steps in, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She’s dressed in a black suit with high heels, an eye patch covering her right eye. She’s followed by a younger man, dressed in a matching suit, the tie undone, and jacket thrown over his shoulder. He has long hair, that is pulled out of his face, and a stern look on his face that doesn’t match his young appearance. 

“He's kinda cute,” you mumble just loud enough for Power and Denji to hear you.

Power smiles, her manicured nail between her teeth, “Bet you can’t talk to him.”

You look at her, raising an eyebrow, “What? Are you serious?”

“Of course, it’s easy money for me.” She turns towards Denji, “You in?”

Denji looks up at the two of you, eyes crinkling a little on the edges as he smiles a little, “Sure.”

“Okay, what are we betting?” You take your feet over the edge of the chair onto the floor and lean closer to Power.

Leaning in towards you she smiles, “How about a month's worth of chores?”

Your nails tap on the table, “Okay, but it doesn’t include laundry.”

“Okay, but you have a fifteen-minute time limit.”

Extending your hand towards her, “Deal.”

“Deal,” Power takes your hand and you both shake.

Pen walks to your table with your food, placing it on the table along with your bill. “You guys enjoy,” she says before turning around and walking back to the counter to take the newcomers' orders.

The minutes pass and the two take a seat a few tables down from where you’re sitting, chatting quietly among themselves. Power keeps shoving her elbow into your side while you eat, she and Denji laugh every time you spit up your food when she does. Almost every person, in the restaurant, turns to look at the three of you, annoyed looks painted across their faces. Denji and Power have no problem ignoring the ugly looks, however, you on the other hand give apologetic smiles. 

“It’s been eight minutes,” Power whispers, “I knew you wouldn’t do it.”

You shove the last of your food into your mouth, “I’ll do it, just waiting for the right moment.”

“Sure.”

From the corner of your eye, you see the cute guy stand up and walk out the front door, the bell above it ringing when the door opens and closes. “Okay, I’ll be right back,” you stand and lean over Power’s shoulder to whisper “You two better keep your end of the bet,” before walking out of the restaurant.

The night has fully taken over, the moon fully visible in the dark sky along with the twinkling stars. It’s still early enough that a few people are still out on the streets, eating at food trucks and sitting along the sidewalk enjoying ice cream. The man you came chasing after is leaning against the arm of the bench that rests between the restaurant and the boutique next to it, his phone in his hands.

You clear your throat, and swing your body from side to side, looking around into the busy street, “It’s a nice night out.”

He looks up from his phone, eyeing the space around where you both stand to see if you're talking to him or someone else. When he sees that it’s only you and him he answers, a curt answer before returning to his phone, “Yeah I guess.”

You feel uncomfortable when it’s quiet again. A cool breeze flows through, lifting the bottom of your skirt an inch. You take in a deep breath just as it does, your nervousness calming a bit when you smell the fresh scent of freshly mowed grass mixed in with the aroma of the foods being cooked. You look at the man again, side-stepping towards him, and commenting again, “It’s much better than the hot night.” He looks up, his eyes making direct contact with yours. You want to turn away, your face burning, but the dark blue of his eyes draws you in. Swallowing the spit in the back of your throat you start to rock yourself again, “Don’t you think?

“Yeah, I guess.” He smiles when he sees how awkward you’re being as you sway on the heels of your feet.

You cover your face with your hands, “I’m so sorry, my friends and I made a bet, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s fine. I got to meet and talk to you. Names Aki.”

You look at him, smiling a little, “It was nice meeting you, Aki.” 

Aki can feel the heat rising to his face and his heart skip a few beats when you say his name for the first time. He doesn’t understand the feeling that is swirling in his stomach, and why his hands are sweating so badly. He just met you, so why does the sight of your smile make his heart beat irregularly in his chest? Swallowing the spit in his mouth, he returns your smile, “It was nice meeting you too, y/n.” Aki’s eyes travel behind you, watching as your two friends step out of the restaurant, leftovers in their hands. He points behind you, “Your friends are out.”

You peer over your shoulder, “Oh, I guess they are. I should go. I’ll see you around.” Taking one step back you raise your hand giving him a small awkward good-bye wave. 

Aki watches you walk back to Power and Denji, his stomach still doing flips, and heart pounding. He watches you smile a big bright smile at Power, your arm hooking with hers, and the three of you start to walk away in the opposite direction. You look over your shoulder one last time, your cheek resting against Power’s shoulder, and give one last smile. He’s still looking in the direction you walked off in long after the three silhouettes disappear into the distance, the lights on the street buzzing, and he wonders if he’ll see you again soon. 

~

Present Day

As the afternoon turns to night, the table becomes louder and louder, Power and Denji telling you of mishaps that had happened to them while you were busy with your own life, and Aki's body seems to relax against the chair he’s in, speaking and laughing more than he did at the start of the night. The plates of food from your table had long since been removed, replaced by alcoholic drinks and dessert. The tension in your body releases the more you drink and laugh, time feeling as if it's barely moving. 

It’s not until a different waiter than the one who had first served comes up to your table with a check in hand, telling you that they're about to close that you realize how late it is. Looking around you see that the restaurant is empty excluding the employees.

“Oh, we’re so sorry,” you say, reaching into your bag and pulling out your card like the rest of the table. 

“Fuck, Reze is going to be pissed,” he stretches the last of his sentence, “I told you I’d only be gone an hour tops…it’s been like four.”

Power laughs at him, raising the straw from her drink to point at him, “And that is why I don’t date.”

“You don’t date because everyone who dates you finds you annoying,” Denji throws back, moving out of the way when she throws an ice cube at him. You and Aki laugh next to them, your eyes and mind dazed over by the alcohol.

“We should do this again soon. I missed hanging out with you guys. Even you Aki.” You blurt out, eyes on the two idiots, not noticing the way Aki gawks at you. 

It’s the first time since Power and Denji arrived that you acknowledge his presence, even though he’s sitting right across from you. And the fact that you finally did has the inside of his chest feeling a little warm, something that he hadn’t felt in a while. 

Aki answers in a quiet breath when the other two don’t hear you over their play fighting, “We should.” A rush of emotions goes through him when you look at him, your eyes glazed over and your lips slightly parted. Time stops for the both of you.

The waiter comes back with your cards and receipts, walking all four of you out the front of the restaurant and locking them behind you. All four of you stare at the closed door.

“I think they didn’t want us to come back in,” Denji says, turning and walking towards his car. 

“You’re driving? Didn’t you drink?” you ask, the floor underneath you feeling unsteady with every step you take.

Denji shakes his head, nodding towards a wobbling Power, “I have her to take care of.” He looks around the parking lot, “Do you need a ride home? I don’t see your car.”

“I took a Lyft here. And no, I don’t want to bother you, my place is the other way,” you pull out your phone holding it up facing him, “I’ll just take one back.”

“Not going to happen.” Aki interjects, “It’s late, and there are a lot of creeps, I’ll drive you home.”

“There’s no ne-”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. It’s not safe,” he interrupts your protest.

Denji speaks up as he steps backward towards his car, “Aki’s right. If you don’t want me to drive you home, let him. I think we would all feel much relaxed knowing we all got home safely.” 

There’s a need to protest again, but instead, you just nod, hands clasped in front of you. You both watch as Denji wraps an arm underneath Power’s underarms and waves goodbye before loading her into the passenger side of the car.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” Aki sighs, hands shoved into his pockets, turning and walking away from you. With no other choice, you follow him to a white BMW, sweat forming in the palms of your hands, you wish you were someone else right now.

You get into the passenger side, hands folded neatly in your lap as Aki starts to the car, eyes flickering across the clean interior of the car and sniffing the faint scent of cigarettes. “I didn’t know you smoked.” 

Aki’s fingers hover the screen in his car, a keypad popping up, “Yeah, I guess we haven’t seen each other in a while. Do you still have the same address?”

You nod your head and hum a response, “Yeah I guess we haven’t, and kinda, I’m still in the general area. I moved to a new condo a year ago. Here I’ll type the address.” You lean forward to put it in, your hand pushing his hand out of the way. The quick and simple touch of your skin touching his causes your face to burn, “Sorry.” 

The car falls silent, except for his music, as he pulls out of the parking lot. You watch buildings pass you, feel the movement of the car when it turns, and can hear the thumping of Aki’s fingers against the steering wheel above the soft sound of the engine whenever the car stops at a red light. Neither of you says anything for a few minutes before the silence becomes unbearable.

“So how are things with your dad?”

“Um, th-they’re okay. He’s getting married, so that’s exciting,” You turn to look at him. 

Aki’s fingers stop tapping against the wheel, blue eyes glancing at the GPS, “To Tomoe?”

You shake your head, laughing awkwardly, “They broke up a long time ago. No, um, it’s some woman he met abroad. Half his age.”

He reacts with a long, “Oh,” his fingers resuming their tapping on the center of the horn. 

“Yeah,” you stretch out, the tense silence settling between the two of you once more. Staring out the window again, you notice that you're now in your neighborhood. The streets are empty and the lights to the windows of the buildings are all shut off, the only source of light coming from the street lights that run along the edge of the sidewalk. 

Aki pulls up next to the condo building where you live, the lights from the lamps outside lighting the space up to the large glass door. The two of you remain still and quiet, staring at the road ahead. You feel as if you should say something. Feel the need to finish, and get closure, on the conversation from five years ago. 

You can still hear the echo of the words you said that you didn’t mean and can feel the knot from that day lodged in your throat every time you think about it. Glancing at Aki you wonder how he feels about how you left things if he felt the same nauseating turn of his stomach when he remembers. 

“Aki?” You whisper, swallowing the spit that forms in the back of your throat.

“Mmh?”

He turns towards you, both of his hands still resting on the wheel. He isn’t smiling at you, but he also doesn’t seem to be having the same emotional turmoil that you are, his expression unreadable. You open and close your mouth, losing the train of thought on what you wanted to say to clear the air, but with the way Aki appears unaffected by your closeness in the small space of the car, you decide that maybe he doesn’t need the same thing closure you do. “Um, Thanks for driving me home. You didn’t have to.”

He smiles at you, “It was nothing, and I really wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I hadn’t.”

“Well thanks anyway,” you reach for the door handle and open the door “I-I should go in.” You get out of the car, “Bye, Aki.”

Aki lifts one of his hands and gives you a small wave, “Good-night, y/n.”

You close the door behind you and walk a few feet up the pathway to the door, pulling your keycard from the back of the pocket attached to your phone. The ground underneath you still feels a little unsteady, but you manage to get to the front of the building, up the three stairs, and into the building. 

When you're closing the door you notice that Aki’s BMW is still parked outside. His dark tinted windows are rolled up, and though you can’t see him you still raise both your hands and wave a last goodbye smiling with your head tilted to your left, before stepping away and heading towards the elevator. Your phone dings a second later, a tiny smile spreads across your face when you see Aki’s name pop up again for the first time in years, and you open the text, the smile spreading a little wider despite the words deepening the ache in your chest.

Sleep tight. See you around.

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