Max Pulls His Shirt Off, Eyes Trained On Charles. He Does Not Want To Miss The Moment Charles Spots It.

gojo's engagement ring

Roy Kent post-retirement:

Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man

Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him

Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other

Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened

The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them

The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao

Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates

They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly

Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else

When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much

(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)

Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are

We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all

Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other

The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)

Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before

And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else

Fcking accurate

part 11 of the maxiel corporate au! brief Rico POV to start, and then Max POV, ending with Daniel POV.

explicit! there's a little bit of plot in here, as well as the first little peek of daniel's internalized homophobia problem. 2.2k words.

relevant heads up: internalized homophobia, tiny bit of max-shaming

Rico's careful as he unlocks his door, soundlessly slipping inside and letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. There's a head of blonde hair on his pillow, a tightly wrapped blanketed lump in the middle of his bed.

A tired smile pulls at his lips as he sets his duffel down quietly on the floor. He'd showered back at the facility, so really all he needs to do now is change, and then the real fight of the night will start- getting his blankets back from Max.

He switches to a new set of sweatpants, easing slowly down onto the bed. He's trying to figure out a plan of attack, except-

Max makes a soft noise as the bed dips under Rico, rolling towards him. It unearths one end of the duvet, and Rico snags the end of it, slipping under the covers. He's trying to keep a respectable distance.

It lasts all of five minutes, and then Rico suddenly has the warm weight of Max plastered to his chest, legs tangling together as Max snuggles into him. He sighs, resting one arm across Max, fingers brushing against the dip in his lower back.

He needs Daniel to get his shit together, before Rico gets attached to having a Dutch stuffed animal every night.

------

Once is an anomaly, and twice is a pattern- Max is realizing he sleeps better with someone else, which is terribly inconvenient realization to have.

He's tucked in Rico's arms, snuggled under the duvet. He hadn't even woken up when Rico got back from his fight- but he'd also been exhausted by the time he left the office, numbers and letters swimming in his vision.

He gives himself a few moments to appreciate the comfort of his current situation, and then he's prodding at Rico's side.

"Rico..."

There's not any response, and Max can't say he's surprised. He shakes him the best he can- not much- and gently knocks his forehead into his sternum.

"Rico."

There's an annoyed, sleepy sounding grumble, and then Rico's arm is pinning Max closer to him as he rolls, blanketing Max underneath him.

"Oh-"

Rico's settling on top of him, but he's grabbed something from the bedside table, and he's barely even half awake as he pins Max with his body.

Max realizes a second later when he hears the click of the cap what's happening- Rico isn't even awake enough to hold a conversation, but he's still-

He's still taking care of Max, lube slick fingers circling his hole.

Max's legs fall apart, and his heart rate is already picking up at the sensation, Rico's index finger slowly pressing inside. He drops his head back into the pillow, and he's already thinking about the day ahead of him- he's got reports to finalize, and a presentation to give, and-

"Ah-"

Rico's finger presses against his prostate, and Max pushes further into it, wants more.

Rico sighs, long and slow.

"Stop squirming."

Max's breath catches in his throat, and he forces himself to still, fingers gripping into the sheets underneath him.

Rico makes an approving noise.

"Good."

Good- Max. Max is good, he can be good. For Daniel, for Rico, for whoever else asks for it- he's gone from being a virgin to getting fucked over his bosses desk.

He's learning things about himself he'd rather not look too closely at.

Rico presses in a second finger. The stretch is easier to manage now that Max is used to it, and he knows what's coming. He evens out his breathing, taking steady breaths as Rico widens his fingers inside of him, occasionally brushing against Max's prostate.

It's doing something to Max's brain, that Rico isn't even speaking- he's barely awake, and he's only done that much just to help Max be ready for the day.

He feels like some kind of- chore, or necessary errand, something that needs to happen but doesn't require much thought, and it's making his head spin at the way he's just being handled.

The third finger is easier, more of a courtesy than anything, a few longer presses to Max's prostate, just enough to get him worked up.

Rico makes a low noise, curling his fingers inside of Max one last time before pulling them out, rolling off of Max so he can leave the bed.

"Be good, call me later."

His voice is raspy with sleep, and he's about two seconds from lights out, so Max leans down to press his forehead into his shoulder, fondness in his chest.

"I will, thank you."

"Mhm. Don't forget breakfast."

A smile tugs as Max's lips as he gets dressed, collecting his things and quietly locking Rico's door behind him.

------

Max is twitchy after he gives his report presentation. Three espresso shots beforehand was probably not the right call, and now he's wired to all hell with nowhere for the energy to go, drumming his fingers against his leg, checking the time every two seconds.

There's five hours left in his shift. Max is either going to go insane or drive his coworkers insane if he doesn't do something about this.

He's clicking through his files, because he could've sworn-

There.

It's a report on Daniel's little side project, the wine brand that has not once turned them a profit but Daniel keeps anyways. Max remembers him being slightly annoyed when he'd brought it up last, so he'd made this report as more of a joke than anything- it wasn't ever supposed to actually go to Daniel.

It's about to find its way on Daniel's desk anyways.

He prints it out, stapling it together and tidying his desk as he stands. He shoots Scarlett a slack message that he's running some work up to Daniel, and he's pretty sure he hears a muttered 'oh thank god' from Blake's office when he walks by.

The elevator ride is easy, and it takes him until he's passing floor 7 to realize there's someone he's forgotten to inform that he's going to see the CEO.

Daniel.

Whoops.

The elevator dings and Max winces, spends a few seconds debating on if he's actually going to go barge in unannounced.

He is.

Hopefully Daniel's not busy.

He knocks on the door to Daniel's office, shifting on his feet as he waits before he hears Daniel's voice inviting him in.

There's two other people in the room, sitting at the long meeting table- Max can't tell if he's more shocked that the room has chairs, or if he's more shocked Daniel brought him in when he's clearly in a meeting.

"-And this is our accounting intern I was telling you both about earlier, Max. Max, this is Michael, my COO, and Heidi, my CIO."

Shit. This is-

This is their fucking C-Suite.

Max is going to throw up.

He feels like he's back in law school for a moment, being thrown the most vile possible curveball his professors could give, and there's really only one option.

Max needs to lock in.

------

Daniel... really had not expected Max to just show up. Especially not in the middle of his meeting with Michael and Heidi, both finally back in the country after handling a bulk of his international work for the past few months.

There's a solid few seconds when he brings Max in where he's worried he's going to fumble, and Daniel will have to make some casual excuse about clumsy interns. Disappointing, but not surprising.

It's when he introduces them that he sees Max swallow, watches the panic disappear from his eyes as he straightens slightly, stepping forward and extending his hand.

"It is of course wonderful to meet you both. I have been doing write-ups for the Netco merger these last few weeks, so feel free to ask me any questions."

He's giving them both a charming smile, all confidence and easy intelligence- Daniel feels thrown for a loop.

He's not met this Max before. It's a bold move, opening himself up to questions about his work, the complicated nature of the merger itself, to Michael and Heidi- and they're not easy to impress. If Max pulls it off...

Heidi leans back in her seat, face carefully neutral, where Micheal leans forward, curious. They're both like Daniel, dogs with a bone when there's something they want. They're going to eat poor Max alive.

Heidi speaks first, pen hovering above her notebook.

"Netco's 2017 operations in March, who were they trading with?"

Max doesn't hesitate.

"They were trading minor work with their multi year contracted companies, but their major project that got listed in their annual report was given to Wenznet, a shell company owned by Aiden Brown."

Michael makes an annoyed noise.

"Zak's son."

Max nods.

"Wenznet crops up several times after it's founded in late 2016, and it's always to receive a contract from Netco...."

-------

Daniel ushers both Michael and Heidi out the door, promising to meet them for lunch and dinner, and yes they'll catch up out outside of work, of course-

He lets the door swing shut, and then he's spinning back around to Max, backing him right up to the table- his hands grip around his waist, lifting him to sit as Daniel pushes him onto his back, letting Max's legs dangle off the edge as he buries his fingers in his hair, tugging to listen to Max moan.

"Fuck, babe- that was so hot, you did such a good job, what the hell-"

Max's hips jerk at the praise, and Daniel's other hand is fumbling at his belt, unclasping it and pulling it from the loops. He folds it over carefully, and then he's leaning down by Max's face, watching him open his mouth obediently for Daniel to shove the leather between his teeth.

He grinds his hips against Max's, watching his fingers scrabble at the table.

Daniel unzips Max's slacks, get them halfway down before he's rolling him onto his front, hips right at the edge of the table as he undoes his own belt, head still reeling.

"Where have you been hiding all those brains, huh? I've certainly never seen them before."

Max whines through the belt as Daniel gets the lube packet open, smearing it down his cock before pressing two fingers into him.

"And they're missing again already, aren't they? You were so smart just a few minutes ago, knowing everything off the top of your head, but now-"

He groans as he pushes in, Max tight around him.

"-now you're back to being a dumb little cockslut."

Max shudders underneath him, back arching under Daniel's hands as he fucks into him.

He's still stuck thinking about it, the way Max had navigated their questions so smoothly, always had an answer for either of them whenever they asked. He'd never stumbled over his words, never gotten caught unprepared.

Daniel angles for his prostate, listening to Max's punched out whines, fingers digging into his hips.

"Fuck, you were so good. That was incredible babe, I don't-"

He runs a hand down Max's back, fingers pressing into the divots of his spine, the hard muscle and soft fat.

He leans down as his thrusts get more erratic, fitting his teeth over the back of Max's neck, chest pressed into his back.

"You want to come home with me tonight Maxy? You've definitely earned it, showing off like that."

Max clenches around him, making muffled noises through the belt, and Daniel gets a hand between his hips and the table, jerks him a few times before squeezing, just on the side of too tight-

Max cries into the table as he comes, a vice around Daniel's cock, wet and tight as he thrusts a few more times, forehead coming down between Max's shoulders.

They're both breathing hard, although Max has gone mostly boneless on the table. Daniel pulls out slowly, running a hand down Max's side as he pants.

He's not normally one for anything... after. Last time he'd taken Max back to his place, it had been more out of necessity than anything else. Daniel doesn't want to get soft, can't afford to act sweet on anyone, but Max is wriggling his way past his defenses, doggedly trying to carve a space in Daniel's heart.

No one else has to know- it can be Max and Daniel's little secret, that he's more emotionally involved than he'd like to be.

Fucking an intern is one thing. Being sweet on them, making sure they're taken care of afterwards? That's...

Daniel doesn't have anything against gay people- he's pretty sure half the company is gay somehow. It's just not him.

But maybe just this once, with Max.

He starts running a hand through Max's hair, grabbing some wipes as he rolls Max over on his back again.

"Good job, Maxy."

Max's eyes are hazily tracking Daniel's movements, mouth opening wider for Daniel to pull his belt out, working his jaw a few times as he gingerly closes it.

Daniel's gentle as he pieces Max back together. Slacks, belt, carefully tucking his shirt back in- Max still isn't with it by the time he's done.

He debates for a moment. Previously, he's sent Max back down to his desk like this. Now, the idea of it tugs at him in an uncomfortable way- and there's a looming presence in his brain, blood smeared teeth and a split lip.

"C'mere babe."

Max dutifully follows him back over to his desk, and Daniel settles in his chair before encouraging Max to arrange himself on his lap, chin tucked over his shoulder.

It's temporary.

Just this once.

Sebastian Vettel | ROC 2025

"Are you sure there is no one to contact? Your team?" "You want to get rid of me?" Charles teases. He paints crimson, Max stammers, "No- just, you are a premier league player so-" "You are a football fan, Max," Charles wiggles his eyebrows "and I am coming home with you." The crimson deepens, Max huffs, his face pouty, he looks like an adorable kitten, "I am a Richmond fan." Charles laughs at that, Richmond? No one is a Richmond fan. "Fuck you. Richmond is good." Max's face is tight now, the red bordering on angry. Angry kitten. He purses his lips, suppressing the laughter, "Right." "We'll win this season." Max insists, "We have Sainz too now, so we will." "What?"  Max stares at him, realisation dawning his face, "You don't know." Charles grunts, annoyed, "No. What?" Max turns his phone on, a video of Pep playing on the screen, "We are loaning Carlos Sainz Jr. to AFC Richmond for the new season." Charles feels his heart beat in his ears. Two aces, Charles. The room erupts in noises. "No further questions."

Read Here.

A social gathering of dudes who all have serious Main Character Syndrome, but all are wildly different genres. One of them is the "people don't like me because I'm too smart" Misunderstood Genius who isn't actually particularly smart, just mean. Another one thinks he's wisecracking and clever by just talking like a character in a Marvel movie. Third one thinks he's subtly pulling off a mysterious Film Noir vibe by wearing a fedora and spending most of his time internally narrating, and silently staring at people. The fourth one is a deeply dramatic purple prose self-fashioned Byronic Hero who is unaware that he would be a mildly annoying minor antagonist in a Jane Austen novel at best. The fifth one has gotten his entire personality from shounen anime.