I do that. [ He collects people. The weirder the better. Anyone who catches Gojo's interest gets caught up in his gravitational pull, whether they want it or not.

What's more surprising to him are the romantic connections he's made. For years he's been so good at keeping his flings casual and at arm's length. And now he's messily involved with several relationships.

Blame it on the imprint. (Or take the imprint as an excuse.)

Stepping into the shower fully-dressed, Gojo rubs his hands through his hair, starting to rinse off the first layer of blood. He makes a disgusted noise. Fighting is the one way in which he'll sometimes let himself get messy. If it's for a fight, he doesn't care how muddy and blood-soaked he gets. But as soon as the active fun of that fight is over, Gojo starts itching to be clean and comfy again. ] Ugh, I've gotta find a way to clean blood off outside of the city. Maybe a farm with a well? Dump a couple buckets over my head before coming back inside? That'd probably work.

[ He hauls his shirt over his head and wrings it out once, torrenting bloody water down around his feet. Then he just drops the shirt on the shower floor to get a little more rinsed by being ignored for a minute. ] Dinner smells good.