#<- tag im going to start using for these!

[frankcastiglione]

come back to bed

a bucky barnes x reader fic

warnings: rated T for quick spicy moment - nothing graphic or explicit; no use of y/n; gender neutral reader; also reader has glasses because i never see fic w/ that!; post thunderbolts*; some angst and a lot of domestic/comfort/fluffy cozy time

word count: 1.4k

summary: you wake in the night to find your husband bucky isn't in bed with you, but he's asleep on the floor.

a/n: i haven't written something in months; and i haven't posted anything in almost a year oof; im a brand new bucky girlie (i know i know late to the party) so i hope this is ok!!!! first time writing him! thank you to my partner in crime for support w/ this @bobertreynolds !!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When you open your eyes, you can tell it’s the middle of the night.

It doesn’t stop you from reaching over to the nightstand, grabbing your glasses, and tapping your cell phone to see the time. You wince from the brightness; you forgot to turn it down before you went to bed.

The lockscreen of your sweet husband Bucky kissing your cheek makes you smile. The screen goes black, and you forgot to look at the time. Tapping your phone again, you groan to yourself. It’s 4am.

At least you still have a few more hours to sleep, but why are you up in the middle of the night?

You put your phone and glasses back on the nightstand and roll over to find Bucky isn’t in bed.

The bathroom light is off, so he’s not there. You wonder if he got up to get a drink.

Leaving your cozy nest, you leave your bedroom, and head down the hall. There’s a faint glow coming from the living room. He’s up, watching TV.

When you appear in the doorway, his attention turns to you.

“Did I wake you?” is his immediate response. He reaches for the remote as if to turn the volume down, but you can barely hear it as it is.

“Are you ok?” you ask him walking towards the couch. Bucky outstretches his arms for you, and you take his hand. He pulls you onto his lap. Your legs drape across his thighs, and you curl into his chest. Your fingers smooth over the ribbed texture of his tank top, and you trace the chain of his dog tags. His metal arm is cradling your back and it’s cold through your pajama top, and he whispers an apology when you shiver. His lips press to your temple and his right hand smooths up and down your legs.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answers finally, his nose pressing to your hair – breathing deeply. He takes in another breath, and you cuddle closer into him. He’s such a calm presence, and you feel yourself starting to fade.

When you yawn, he whispers, “go back to bed.”

“What about you?” you ask him through another yawn. You reach up to brush back a couple strands of his hair that had fallen to his forehead.

“I’ll join you in a little bit, get some rest.”

“Only if you carry me,” you giggle into his chest.

“Twist my arm,” he teases and slips his arm under your knees. His metal arm holds onto your back, and he stands easily. It makes your head spin a little bit at his super soldier strength, how you weigh next to nothing in his arms.

Bucky carries you down the hall, his lips pressing kisses to your temple the whole way there.

Gently he places you on your shared bed and pulls the covers up around you. His lips find yours in the dark and you kiss softly. Then deeply. You whimper into his mouth when your lips part.

“James,” you whine a little “I’m trying to go back to sleep,” you sigh.

“I can wear you out, if that would help,” he murmurs against your lips.

And that’s how you found yourself tangled in the sheets. Bucky’s lips and hands roam all over your skin. No part of you cares that you have work in the morning. You can’t get enough of him.

And wear you out he did. Your alarm wakes you in the morning. But it’s the smell of coffee that coaxes you out of bed. That means he’s still here. He makes the coffee for you. It doesn’t have any effect on him. He might drink a cup with you, but he’s never made it just for himself.

“Hi,” you smile at him when you reach the kitchen.

“Hi back,” he replies. He greets you with a soft kiss to your brow. He’s dressed for the day already, and you’re thankful for these small moments before he leaves.

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Some,” he tells you. There’s a little glimmer in his eye, clueing you in on the memory of last night. But you can still tell he’s tired.

You make small talk while you drink your coffee, and he heads out for the day. And you don’t think about it again until tonight.

He joins you in bed, same as always. And as if your subconscious knew, you woke up in the middle of the night again.

The bed’s empty. Again.

You head to the living room again. The TV is on, but it’s muted. In the glow from the screen, you can see your sweet husband Bucky is asleep on the floor. A couch pillow is under his head, and a couple throw blankets are on the floor and covering his legs – partially. It looks like he has kicked some of them off. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on his brow and his bare chest. It already hurts to see him on the floor, but that really breaks your heart.

You know everything, he has told you all that you wanted to know. You know about his past. About the nightmares. Your heart aches that it seems like they’re back.

You don’t want to disturb him, and as you turn to leave you hear his voice. Quiet and somber.

“I’m awake.”

You go to him then. You’re quick to sit down on the floor by his head. You comb your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. His eyes close. His sigh is heavy.

“How long have they been back?” you whisper, still petting his hair.

“Few days,” he opens his eyes and looks up at you. There’s sorrow in them. As if he feels guilty he’s having nightmares. “I didn’t want to worry you. So, I came out here.”

“Worry me,” you smooth the back of your fingers across his cheek. The bristles from his beard tickles your skin.

“The void,” he tells you. You remember. This wasn’t long ago. He’d told you what he’d seen. Things he’s tried to forget. He doesn’t have to say anymore now for you to understand.

You lean down and press a kiss on his forehead. You start to stand, and he reaches for you. A silent plea not to leave. You’re not sure how many people have seen him like this you think. You’re glad you’re one of them.

“I’ll be back I have to get something,” you start so smile softly.

You return with pillows and blankets from your bed. You can barely see over the bundle you grabbed, but you know your way down the hall.

“What are you doing?” he huffs out in amusement.

“I’m going to join you on the floor obviously.”

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head. His brows furrow. “You won’t be comfortable.”

“And you are?”

“At least,” he pauses “take the couch.”

You nod, but you drop all the blanket bundle onto the floor. You get to work on making him a big pile of blankets and quilts and a comforter you pulled from the closet.

“Humor me,” you tell him. He smiles at that, and he gives you a quiet “thank you.”

You lay on the couch with your blanket, and he lays on the makeshift bed on the floor next to you. You laid all the blankets out parallel to the couch and as close as you could get it. So, when you lay on the couch, your hand can touch him.

You lay so that you can stroke his skin. Whatever you can reach. It’s soothing to you both and you can hear his breathing begin to steady and even out.

You feel yourself drifting off to sleep. Having him close and knowing he’s ok allowing you to fall asleep.

When you wake, you’re in your bed. You shake your head a little, exasperated at him. Of course he couldn’t let you sleep on the couch; he wanted you to be comfortable. It was comfortable enough, but that didn’t matter you wanted to be near him.

You’re about to get up to go back to him, but you can hear his steady breathing next to you. You roll over and bump into his shoulder. He hums a little in his sleep, and he stirs.

You hear him take a deep breath. You feel bad he’s awake, but you take this opportunity to slip closer to him and put your arm across him. Your head rests on his chest, and he quietly pulls you in closer.

Bucky murmurs a quiet, “thank you,” before falling back asleep with you by his side.

[hewinked]

you ever have fandom drama go down with literally all the big blogs for one fandom that you love so much, and then all the blogs you follow just start throwing tomato's at each other?

yeah thats pretty much me with the danny phantom x dc crossover tag argument thing rn

also im of the opinion that, this is kinda always how crossovers worked? you tag it with both fandoms it includes? and the tag thing is not that bad? or atleast ive had not that much trouble finding only solely danny phantom content

and i mean, danny phantom is an old fandom objectively, the only new content being some comic books which alot of people didnt read because they didnt wanna or couldnt spend money on it

it makes sense that even alot of old fans would get into dp x dc, and that because dc is such a big and active fandom in comparison, that a lot of dc fans would get into the crossovers, and become new danny phantom fans via the crossovers

but ik alot of people are arguing that they shouldnt be, because they think that dc fans have never even seen danny phantom because of small details they get wrong or mix up, which is like a whole nother "if youre in this fandom you have to know everything about the media or youre not a real fan" shaped problem that I dont care for at all

the truth is most of them probably are just going off of what they remember from their childhoods because ALOT of people watched danny phantom as a kid, and just havent had time to rewatch it fully, so yeah, theyre gonna not remember some things and have to fill in the blanks themselves or go off of what other fans say

and as far as im aware anyways, this isnt really just a dc and dp thing? Im in the miraculous ladybug fandom and fic wise alot of it is now danny phantom or dc crossovers, but ive heard no complaints and given no complaints (despite not liking them myself) because thats mainly on ao3 and you can just block it

the point im going to make is actually, that alot of the fandom on tumblr is reliant on ao3 in the first place, and like on ao3 this definitely isnt a problem, because you can block a tag easily and most people on ao3 know better then to not tag something that they have in a fic

thing is? people are used to that. it is considered heavily heavily impolite on ao3 to not tag a fandom or thing you have in the fic.

and most tumblr users are or started as ao3 users. its pretty much the same etiquette on here.

but somehow when you go on tumblr with specifically danny phantom fans? somehow people are offended by it?

thing is, same as on ao3, on tumblr you can block a tag and filter.

but lets say you are blocking that and still seeing dc crossover stuff like so many people are complaing

then isnt the problem logically that alot of these people just arent tagging the dc stuff properly then? because i imagine thats what you should be trying to block so.... why be mad that theyre tagging danny phantom when thats one of the correct tags to be using? so that anyone who wants to see crossovers plus regular content can?

like im just saying thats the logic i follow

and thats not me tryna say go and blame em for that either, im just saying youre kinda angry about something that its okay to be mad about, but you have put yourself in the wrong because your mad about the wrong thing anyways.

also even if youre mad about it, maybe stop bullying and critizing literally anyone who's writing dc and dp? like encouraging people to write what they like is the name of the game, you guys know that right?

you know you can just nicely comment without being passive aggressive or rude, and tell them that they should tag their posts a little better? and not take your anger out on them because they personally obviously dont sway the whole fandom by themselves? do you know that?

you also dont have to make big ol rant posts about how much you hate dp x dc writers for writing a crossover, that will hurt those writers feelings, and that you know will make all your followers mad at all those innocent writers also, right? you know that you don't have to and shouldn't be making posts like that right?

[yoiisa]

hi there, can u write a fic (college au/no blue lock) where reader & isagi are in a relationship, but his roommates slash friends don't know bcs reader always comes over whenever isagi says that his friends (bachira, kunigami, & chigiri) aren't at their apartment, but then get caught one day when his friends went back home early?

ive only stumbled upon ur account recently and i love ur fics/writing!!

omg love!! idk how colleges in japan work, so im just going to model this based on american colleges :D

all characters aged up (20+)! Tags: slightly suggestive and making out!!

➜ you knew isagi yoichi for around 6 months before the two of you started dating, but you'd been eyeing him for all of that time ➜ he was exactly your type- quiet, but the sweetest and most considerate person ever. ➜ he had beautiful blue eyes, was taller than you, and played soccer for the school. holy hell, talk about your personal kryptonite ➜ he was always too shy to ask you out though, so you had to take initiative on that front

You're sitting under a tree with Isagi in the school's courtyard. People are passing you by, heading to their respective classes. All you can think of in this moment though is how nice this is. The summer breeze is brushing his hair perfectly and the sun is making his eyes look like tiny sapphires. He looks like a prince. "Um, [name]?" he asks looking down at you. "Are you okay? You've been really quiet." You blink a few times, snapping out of your trance. You look down at your lap, staying silent for a little while. "Hey, Isagi?" you start. He leans forward and you feel like your heart is a car that someone just revved. "Umm, you don't have a girlfriend right?" "N-no," he stammers, taken aback. "Why?" "Do you," you cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. You meet his gaze and give him a tiny smile as you force the words out of your throat. "Do you wanna go out with me?" Your heart stops as he physically flinches back. "Nevermind!" you quickly say, holding your hands up in defense. "I'm so sorry, just forget all of that-" "N-no! That's not it, I- I do like you," he insists, "I just didn't expect you to ask me out." He lets out a deep breath and chuckles. "I was actually going to try and ask you out. My friends were giving me all this advice on how to do it. You just caught me off guard though. Beat me to the punch, huh?" He takes your hand in his and squeezes it. "But to answer your question, yes. I would like to go out with you."

➜ and that was that! the two of you were a couple. only one thing though- you'd never met those illusive friends ➜ whenever you went over to his dorm- a quad with two bunk beds and four desks, as well as a quite beautiful view of the whole campus through the window- there was no one else there but the two of you ➜ six months went by and not a single glimpse of them! you asked isagi about it once and he gave you a few excuses

"Well Bachira's really close to his mom, so he leaves campus a lot to hang out with her every now and then. She doesn't live too far from here anyways," Isagi explains as he rests his head in your lap. "And then Chigiri has a part time job at a physical therapist's office. He used to go there for himself since he messed up his leg once in an accident a while ago." You nod, running your finger through his hair. "And what about Kunigami?" "Also has a part time job as a kiddie's soccer coach," he says. "Hmm," you smirk and tickle your boyfriend's neck. He flinches and you giggle, "So you're the only one unemployed, huh?" He stiffens and gives you a look out of the corner of his eyes. "No. Bachira doesn't have a job too."

➜ when you finally meet Isagi's roommates . . . it's a mess ➜ after not seeing them enough times, you grew relatively comfortable with the idea that you never would in the dorms, and so did he ➜ he would have you over pretty often, and to be completely honest, sometimes things got a little spicy! ➜ so here you were, sitting on his desk and his standing between your legs. your lips locked in a heady kiss that was making you lightheaded. your tongues lapped hungrily at one another and your teeth clacking ➜ and then the door opened.

"Yoichi~" you gasp as he pulls back from your mouth. He starts to trail kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking small bruises into your collarbone and neck. "Mmm, you're so sweet," he groans, inhaling your scent. He feels like getting drunk off of it. His hot hands trail under your shirt, tracing around your curves. You giggle, but then both of your bodies freeze as you hear the door clicking. Isagi, in a moment of pure panic, tightens his grip on your waist and fucking shoves you off the desk and onto the floor. He was trying to hide you underneath the desk, not wanting his roommates to catch you both in this position, but all he does is just accidentally make you kneel in front of him. Right in front of him. Honestly, it helped enough because now your back is to his roommates, who are no doubt staring at you both as if they just walked in on a porno. Isagi stares at the trio. Bachira looks scandalized, Kunigami looks shocked, and Chigiri looks annoyed. "You couldn't bother locking the door when you have a hookup over?" the pink haired boy asks. "What. The. Hell. Is. This," Bachira says, looking two seconds from passing out. "Bachira, breathe," Chigiri grumbles, walking inside. "At least get her off her knees," Kunigami says, following Chigiri. He comes up behind you and taps you on your shoulder. "Miss-" You, in your panic and fear and shame, cannot think to say literally anything else other than, "I'm his girlfriend, not a hookup." Everyone stops breathing. "His GIRLFRIEND?!" Bachira roars, lunging at you. He grabs you by your shoulders, whirls you around and pulls you up to your feet. Kunigami hits him on the back of his head, "Don't handle a girl like that!" "I-It's fine," you say, waving Kunigami off with a small smile. "I'm so sorry about this. It's just, whenever I've been over, none of you are ever here, so I guess we got a little . . . careless." "You've been here before?" Bachira asks. A thud sounds from behind you and you whirl around. Bachira and Kunigami peek over your shoulder. Chigiri walks up to an Isagi whose cherry red. The embarrassment was just too much for his brain to handle anymore it seems. "Yoichi!" you shout, kneeling next to him. "I'll get him water," Chigiri says, walking to the dorm's mini fridge.

➜ the two of you never live this first impression down. not even at your wedding.

[aurorlia]

‎— ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎✸ ׂ ݂ ୨ ‧ ׅ JUST FOR ME ﾟ ꒱

# — art donaldson x afab!reader

♡ tags / warnings — 18+ — oral. (m. receiving). hair pulling. choking?. recording. + ..

♡ — once again, leaving for a tournament that you just couldn’t attend. He suggest the idea of something new, something he can keep on his phone to watch while you’re both so far from each other.

♡ taglist — @pittsick @nozhdyved @forgetmenotnympho @lov3lylxvender @museboos @cinnamongmm

♡ notes ! — new layout..hmm do we like it..tbh not sure I do !! + this is so short .. 😣

“come on, I just— one video and that’s it. one video to keep while I’m away from my beautiful girlfriend.” he whined against your neck, making you groan.

you gently shoved him away. “you just won’t leave it alone, will you?” you replied, earning a small chuckle from him. “No, definitely not baby. I need something to look at while im gone.”

“I mean..what if something happened to either of us?” He spoke, shrugging as if his stupid argument could actually work and newsflash..it did. he watched as you lined yourself up infront of his crotch, inbetween his legs and you watched as he got his bright red phone ready to record you. “you’re seriously crazy.” you murmured, a grin on his face as you finally let him free. His throbbing cock springing out of the barrier that were his boxers. It looked almost painful,

He groaned and you hadn’t even started, you hadn’t even touched it yet but you saw as his grip on his phone tightened. His bottom lip stuck inbetween his teeth, he huffed out in slight frustration at you. Watching as you didn’t start, just to tease him. “Don’t tease me.” He murmured, earning a sly grin from you.

you gently grabbed it, making him hiss through his teeth. you gently licked a stripe, his grip on the phone still tight and trembling and when you finally took it into your warm mouth. He gasped. “oh my..fuck, baby.” He whimpered, looking down at you making eye contact with him. He could literally cum just from that, just from the eye contact.

his whimpers filled the room and probably were gonna be the only thing you could hear in the video. He threw his head back as you took him deeper, his free hand immediately going to your hair. Gripping it like a damn lifeline, he watched as your nose hit the base. Your eyes filling with tears as you took him all way.

his grip on your hair was tight, his eager whimpers were dirty. “ohh..mph— m’so beautiful like this.” He mumbled, guiding your head. your head bobbing at the speed he wanted it to be and suddenly, his moans got louder and his grip got tighter if that was even possible. “oh oh! ohh! oh my— I’m gonna fucking cum.” He whimpered, babbling on. “okay baby?— I’m gonna cum so fucking hard.” He gasped, immediately pulling his cock out of your mouth. You quickly stroked him which resulted into his release.

he painted your face white, his chest moving up and down quickly from his panting and the grip on his phone still tight.

a few days after that, it was time for him to go and now that he was away, he walked into his hotel for the time being. It was fancy and expensive, he had the amazing idea of watching over the video.

he slipped into the sheets, pulling it up but was met with extreme disappointment. The video? was shaky and you couldn’t see much. Fuck—

so much for begging you to film a video.

[wrldhoon]

I LIKE ME BETTER𑁤 y.jw

┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ LOVE SONGS — JUNGWON’S ENTRY

PAIRING. jungwon ༝ reader

WORD COUNT. 4.5k

GENRE. college au ⋆ fluff ⋆ crack

WARNINGS. mentions of alcohol, reader gets wasted, tiny innuendo but nothing crazy

note: not super sure if i like this or not, but it's too cute not to share. first part of my mini series is complete!! i hope you guys enjoy ♡ they're so cute in this i want to die.

TAGS. @ilyunjina

college parties were never really your thing, but a consequence of being best friends with yunjin, the jennifer huh, was that she was going to drag you to one every. single. weekend.

every night, somehow always at exactly eight o’clock, she would barge into your room with that mischievous grin on her face. she would tear your drawers apart, looking for an outfit she deemed fit. occasionally, she would throw out a complaint about how lackluster your closet was. as her best friend, you knew telling her ‘no’ was useless. every attempt you made to convince her to let you rot away alone at home was of no use.

“you look so hot,” she squealed, watching from your bed as you applied the finishing touches of your makeup. she was already dolled up from head to toe, sporting a plain white tube top and ripped blue jeans, her leather jacket laid out beside her. an item she always brought in case it got too cold.

you wore a similar outfit—a black cropped tank and cargo pants, pairing it with a knitted white bolero and sneakers. it was simple, but comfortable. you sprayed an ungodly amount of setting spray onto your face, ensuring that you will not fall victim to frat house makeup tonight.

your desk was full of soju bottles, courtesy of your lovely roommate, and you watched as she reached for a half opened one. “this is gonna be so much fun! heeseung and jay are hosting tonight, which means unlimited booze and the place is gonna be full of eye candy. maybe you’ll get lucky tonight,” yunjin teased, taking another (comedically large) sip of her drink.

you rolled your eyes, but she didn’t miss the quiet chuckle you let out. you reached for a bottle, “definitely not on my bucket list tonight, but i fully support you if that’s what you’re after.” the sweet peach flavor went down easy, filling your chest with a warmth that was reserved for nights out on the weekend.

yunjin responded with a shrug, downing the rest of it in one go. your phone dinged, lighting up with a message notification.

jake (australian)

im here 😋 lets GOOOOOOOO

with a snicker, you quickly typed a response before shoving your phone in your back pocket. “jake’s here,” at your words, yunjin cheered happily before running out of your room to put on her shoes. you quickly fixed your hair before grabbing your bag, filling it up with whatever you might need for the night. lipstick, hand sanitizer, deodorant, power bank, and a pack of tissues.

perfect.

you followed yunjin out of the apartment, meaningless conversation filling the elevator as you headed for the lobby. once you made it outside, you immediately spotted jake’s car. he was filthy rich, and his car alone could probably pay off all of your current bills and grad school tuition.

you slid into the passenger side, the smell of clean leather and cologne filling your senses. you reached over the middle console to give him a hug, his hair brushing against your cheek.

you and jake have been close friends since you started university. you met in your freshman year physics class, bonding over math formulas that didn’t make any sense to you (it still doesn’t), but always seemed to make sense to him. he became your tutor for the remainder of that semester, answering your 3:00am facetime calls just to see you crashing out over another assignment without complaining. since then, you were inseparable.

“whaddup,” yunjin said cooly, dapping up the boy from the back seat. “are you guys ready to drink?” jake sang, his engine roaring to life as he put his car in drive. you let out a soft huff, hand placed over your stomach.

“she fed me enough soju to kill a bull,” the drink provided a slight buzz, and you silently thanked whatever holy being above decided to bless you with a high tolerance to alcohol. your comment earned a hearty laugh from jake while yunjin simply smiled at you, her elbows up against the console as she peered between the two of you. “it isn’t a successful pregame unless you leave juuust a little bit drunk. it’s a pregame for a reason. preparing for the game that is the DAE frat house.”

the rest of the drive was quiet, aside from the sensual rnb playing softly from his car speakers. you watched as the university campus came into view, a short ten minute drive from your shared apartment with yunjin.

there were other students roaming the streets—some returning from their friday night classes and others laughing a little too loud, clearly drunk, and headed to another party. jake parked along the street, turning on his emergency brake and turning off the car with a twist of his key. he stepped out, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, ever the gentleman.

you thanked him with a soft smile, yunjin immediately grabbing your hand and dragging you to the front door. the three of you walked in, loud party music booming through the house and lights turned to a deep purple color. it was warm and smelled like sweat and spilled vodka.

lovely.

you squeezed through the crowd with yunjin pulling you along and jake trailing from behind. you stopped once you reached the kitchen, a loud squeal catching your attention. “you’re here!!” a short brunette came running up, throwing her arms around yunjin’s neck. “chaewon! oh god, you reek of alc.”

the girl giggled, swatting aimlessly at yunjin’s arm. her eyes landed on you, widening in pure glee before she took hold of your arms, pulling you into her own. you let out a shocked ‘oh’, your hands hovering awkwardly over her back. “you must be y/nnie. you’re so pretty.. and you smell good. like.. flowers and happiness,” she slurred, nose buried in your hair.

yunjin cupped her mouth to suppress a laugh while jake watched in amusement. “thank.. you?” you gently pried her off of you, hands on her shoulders to stabilize her. “alright, let’s get you some water.” yunjin chimed in before whisking the girl away, mouthing a quick ‘sorry’ to you as she searched for a clean cup.

“well, she seems cool,” jake chirped, eyes darting from her wobbly figure to your own. “drinks?” you gave him a curt nod, turning towards the counter to scan the endless amount of options before you. vodka, soju, beer, whiskey—you could throw up just looking at it.

you settled on a quick shot of cheap vodka, while jake made himself a mixed drink. he was driving tonight, so he couldn’t allow himself to get wasted.

a few of your friends began flooding the kitchen, greeting one another with cheery ‘hellos’ and offers to take more shots. jay and heeseung soon joined in, dapping up jake with red solo cups in hand. “y/n, you made it!” jay cheered, raising his voice to be heard over ‘beauty and a beat’ by justin bieber that vibrated the walls. he gave you a quick side hug before shaking his cup gently in your direction, a subtle invitation for another drink. you nodded at him, turning your head just in time to lock eyes with heeseung.

“hi pretty,” he wore his signature smile, arms wrapping around your shoulders. you could smell the lingering traces of alcohol in his breath, arm splayed over his waist as you returned the hug. “thanks for hosting tonight.” you pulled away, taking the shot glass from between jay’s fingers and downing it in one go. the boy whooped from beside you before taking one himself.

“you can thank us by drinking~” heeseung sang, filling up his cup for the nth time tonight.

free alcohol is free alcohol, right?

thirty minutes later, you were seven shots deep and leaning drunkenly against the kitchen counter, elbows propped up behind you. jake stood beside you, talking animatedly with heeseung about fifa.

“dude, ni-ki, you’re like… ridiculously tall. you look like a giraffe,” the younger boy raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips. “thanks, dude. i think?”

“you’re so welcome, dude.”

your head throbbed and the room looked like it was spinning. you reached for the cup behind you, grabbing the luke warm brita off the counter and filling it up. you pressed it to your lips, chugging it like your life depended on it. placing it down, your head turned out of instinct as you heard another round of cheers from your friends.

a boy had walked in, greeting everyone with a bright and pretty smile. he had soft blonde hair that caught underneath the dim lighting of the kitchen, pretty cat-like eyes, and a devastatingly adorable dimple on his left cheek.

you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol—no, it definitely wasn’t—he was just gorgeous.

and totally out of your league.

that didn’t stop you though.

“holy shit, you’re so hot.” it came out before you could help it, all of your friends’ heads snapping in your direction in shock. the blonde gawked at you in disbelief before his expression turned into one of amusement, “oh! thank you.. and you definitely aren’t wasted, right?” his tone was teasing, his cheek sinking in slightly as he chewed on it.

you let out a drunken giggle, your head moving side to side. “i don’t even like alcohol..” your hand swatted at the air, elbow slipping off of the counter. jake grabbed your arm, holding you up to prevent you from falling straight onto the kitchen floor.

“jungwon, y/n—y/n, jungwon. not sure if you’ll remember tomorrow though,” jay said, earning chuckles from the other guys. jungwon simply shook his head, smile still evident on his face. he quickly joined in on the drinks, grabbing a cup and mixing up his own concoction.

conversations blurred together, shot glasses clinking, bottles steadily draining.

you didn’t even realize yunjin had disappeared until jake leaned in and asked if you’d seen her. somewhere in the background, you caught sunghoon mentioning her name—something about chaewon, but it was fuzzy. the alcohol was definitely hitting you now, warmth spreading through your body, cheeks flushed, and eyes heavy-lidded.

eventually, you slipped away to get some air. the heat was unbearable, and the packed crowd and blaring music only made it worse—you needed space.

you found an empty pool chair in the backyard and dropped into it with a heavy sigh, letting yourself sink back. a shadow cast over you, and as your eyes adjusted, there he was—the familiar hot blonde from earlier, “you alright?”

“just sleepy. and hot. really hot,” you whined, hands tugging at your bolero to pull it off. jungwon chuckled, crouching down beside you. “do you wanna go home?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

so fucking cute.

yeah, it wasn’t the alcohol.

“not with you, pervert.”

jungwon swore his ears were on fire. his eyes widened so big they might as well pop out of their sockets. he cleared his throat, eyes unable to look at your sleepy figure any longer without feeling bashful, “n-not like that! i meant do you want me to drive you home? like, to your own house. and i leave you there. inside. alone. and i will go to my respective home.”

“oh! yes please,” you dragged on the last syllable, hands pressed against the cool fabric of the chair to push yourself into an upright position. “where’s jakey? he drove me. will he be mad?” your lower lip jutted outwards, a small pout on your face.

“i don’t think he’ll be mad. let me go ask him, okay? don’t go anywhere,” jungwon patted your shoulder before standing, stepping back inside to find your best friend.

a few minutes later, the two boys came back outside to find you fast asleep. they exchanged knowing glances before jake spoke up, “are you cool with taking her back to her apartment? i’m helping sunoo try to wrestle heeseung out of his smelly party clothes and into his pajamas. plus, i still have no fucking clue where yunjin is,” the last part came out a bit strained, annoyance at his missing friend bubbling to the surface.

jungwon let out a soft chuckle, his hand coming up to slap jake’s back. “yeah, i’ll take her. just send me her address,” with that he approached you, dozed off and snoring just a little bit, and scooped you up in his arms. they walked out to his car, jake popping the passenger door open and helping him carefully ease you inside.

once you were secure, they closed the door and bid each other goodbye. jungwon hopped into the driver’s seat, turning on the car and setting the heater on low. once he got your address from jake, he clicked on the link and began the venture to your apartment. occasionally, he would glance over to check if you had woken up.

nothing.

your lips were slightly parted, head pressed up against the window as you slept peacefully. a grin made its way to his face, knowing you’d definitely face a nasty hangover tomorrow.

he pulled up to your apartment complex, parking his car before getting out to help you inside. when he reached to unbuckle you, you let out a sleepy whine. “c’mon, y/n, i need to get you home.” his words were soft, arms moving underneath your knees and back to pull you out. your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the brighter lights of the street lamps.

“oh my god, hot guy. am i still dreaming?” your voice was barely above a whisper, eyes opening and closing at the slowest pace known to man. jungwon grinned, eyes trained on the path in front of him as he walked with you into your building. “nope, definitely not dreaming. hot guy is carrying you home.”

“i knew it. pervert..”

“not like that!”

a few weeks after your first meeting, you two quickly became good friends. he began hanging out with the group more often, simply to see you.

he knew he could’ve just asked you to hang out alone, without prying eyes and teasing comments, but he was scared. it was obvious you were at the least attracted to him, hence the ‘hot guy’ nickname your friends still haven’t let go of. when he finally mustered up the courage (courtesy of jay who threatened to ask you out if jungwon didn’t grow the balls to do so himself) to pop the question, you happily agreed.

score—you managed to bag hot guy.

three months later, you and jungwon had made your relationship official. not a single person in your friend group was surprised at the new relationship.

it just made sense. you were two halves of one whole.

you couldn’t really pinpoint the exact moment it happened—when the way you felt about him started shifting into something deeper, something a little heavier.

something more like love.

of course, you liked him. he wouldn’t be your boyfriend otherwise, but your liking started to twist painfully in your chest, ready to explode at any given moment.

it wasn’t sudden, more like a slow unraveling—but there were signs.

the first time was when the two of you decided to spend the night in at his apartment. the sun had already set, the faint glow of city lights shining through the large windows. you were sat on his couch, scrolling away on your phone as he stood in the kitchen. he stared at the inside of his fridge—milk, a carton of eggs, a few sauce bottles, and a pack of soju.

“babe, i think we should order in,” you looked up from your phone, catching a glimpse of his defeated expression before searching for the delivery app on your phone. “we really should go to the store. we have… like, nothing.”

jungwon sat down on the couch beside you, his side pressed up against your own as he watched you browse through dinner options, “are you craving anything?” you questioned, your free hand landing on his leg to fidget with the extra pockets decorating his pants.

jungwon bit his lip, thinking quietly. “maybe pizza? ooo, or chinese. we can get those noodles you like—oh! or we can get wings? i heard about this crazy deal the other day from jake…” you watched silently as he rambled on, eyes sparkly and hands moving in an animated manner that made your heart squeeze painfully in adoration. he did that a lot.

jungwon, realizing you hadn’t spoken, turned to face you. he blinked, his eyebrows furrowing cutely as you continued to watch him with a stupid little smile on your face, “what?” he quipped, starting to wonder if the hunger was starting to make you crazy. “is there something on my face?”

you shook your head, “nothing. you’re just cute.”

jungwon sat, stunned at your sudden compliment before he grinned, wide enough to make your own cheeks hurt just from looking at it. he threw his arms around you, peppering kisses on your face as you shouted in protest.

it was clear he thought the same thing about you, too.

the second time was when you went out to shop for groceries. yunjin had complained about the lack of snacks in the house, so you took the opportunity to drag jungwon along with you. he was very helpful, aside from when he would get distracted by every little thing that caught his attention.

“babe, look,” you heard from behind you, turning your head to see what your boyfriend was preoccupied with this time. “turtle chips. do you think they taste like turtle?”

you raised an eyebrow at his sudden question, staring in amusement (and a little something that resembled reconsideration of your whole relationship) as he smelled the bag.

the outside of the bag.

strange guy.

“i think it’s just ‘cause of the mascot, won.”

“you never know these days..”

you laughed as he tilted his head, lips pursed and brows lifted slightly before putting the bag down. he gently nudged to you the side with a bump of his hip, pushing the cart as you marched ahead.

he watched as you read off the grocery list, placing things into the cart. he sported a little smile, studying you with gentle eyes. being here with you, shopping for more snacks than real groceries, felt so domestic.

so natural.

it tugged a little at his heartstrings, warmth blooming in his chest.

it was in these quiet, everyday moments that he took the time to really admire you, picking apart the minor details that just made you so… you.

the way you chewed your lip when making decisions, the crease between your brows forming when you couldn’t find whatever you were searching for, the way you blew your hair out of your face when a strand of it fell in front of your eyes.

his mind and his heart were so full of you, and he hoped that would never change.

“jungwon, are you even listening?” your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, shaking his head a little as if forgetting where he was. “um, yeah! definitely.”

you gave him a blank stare, one that he returned with a sheepish smile, “no… sorry?”

you let out a groan before turning around and sauntering off, stomping away like an angry child. he chased after you, the shopping cart bumping into one of the aisles with a loud crash that made you cringe.

”w-wait! babe, i’m listening! for real now!”

the third time was when you were all hanging out at sunoo and riki’s apartment. everyone sat in a circle in the living room, an array of random snacks and drinks littered across the coffee table and floor. sunoo was in the middle of a very dramatic rendition of how he embarrassed himself in front of the group of freshmen he was in charge of during orientation week. laughter flooded the apartment, a feeling of peace settling into your body as you followed along with whatever he was talking about.

“i didn’t even see him coming!” jake bursted into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, doubling over and collapsing into jungwon’s lap who was sat next to him, clapping his hands loudly. you swore you could see tears prick at the corner of his eyes from how hard he was cracking up.

you excused yourself to the bathroom, earning a little nod from your friends before they continued their extremely hilarious conversation. you took the time to clean yourself up, wiping away at the smudged mascara that appeared as a result of your evening with your friends.

a few minutes passed before you stepped out, turning off the lights with a soft click of the switch. as you made your way back, you paused in the hallway when you heard your name come out of your boyfriend’s mouth. you stood around the corner, listening in on their conversation.

“oh my god, it was so funny. y/n came out of her room with this HUGE blue wig on her head. i think i peed myself a little,” jungwon said, his hands moving in that animated manner as if to show just how big your wig was.

“hate to break it to you, but that was my idea. i told her a homer and marge couple costume would be cute. i wasn’t wrong.” yunjin chimed in, failing to hold in the laugh that came spilling out. jungwon stood up suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at his friend, “SO IT WAS YOUR FAULT I HAD TO WEAR A BALD CAP!”

at this point everyone had laid across the floor, rolling over and slapping the person next to them in amusement. “at least y/n looked good! couldn’t fit through the door though. head was too big,” you pressed your fingers to your lips at heeseung’s joke, trying your best not to reveal yourself from where you were hiding.

you remember the moment like it was yesterday. it was a fond one, a story you shared often with your friends.

jungwon rolled his eyes. he sat down with a loud sigh, turning his head with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest, “she’s always pretty. but next time, she’s getting the bald cap,” you smiled at his comment, leaning against the wall as you watched him fondly. when he opened his eyes, they locked with yours. they widened in surprise before he returned the smile, the dimple on his cheek that you loved kissing appearing with it.

you walked back over to your seat, squeezing yourself in between jungwon and riki, “i am never wearing a bald cap, thank you very much. that’s all you. for the rest of your life. until you actually start going bald too. then, you won’t need one!”

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

you stared at the photobook in your hands, fingers tracing the edges of each polaroid that sat snugly between the pages. you made it a tradition to snap a photo every time you hung out, a way to preserve your memories forever in colored ink.

one from the party you first met at, another from the pool party you and yunjin hosted last summer, one from your camping trip, and others—all of them serving as a reminder of the joy you experienced with jungwon and your friends from the past year.

you closed the book gently, the soft smile never leaving your face. the gentle hum of music played out of the speaker tucked into the corner of jungwon’s living room.

you heard it—the first song he ever sent to you through text, a little ‘this made me think of you’ message following shortly after. the apartment smelled like warm sugar and the lingering traces of his cologne, a scent you began to consider home.

jungwon was in the kitchen, probably making breakfast like he always did. he knew how you took your coffee by heart, never failing to wake you up with it each morning with a sleepy grin on his face. you placed the book next to your phone, lighting up with a notification from yunjin declaring yet another group hang out you simply could not afford to miss.

you stood up from the couch, your fluffy house slippers padding against the floor as you walked over to jungwon.

leaning against the kitchen island, you stared at his messy morning hair and broad back, clad in the loose t-shirt he woke up in. he turned around with a smile on his face, one that never failed to appear every time he saw you, “hi, angel. what were you up to?”

you returned the gesture, happily taking your favorite mug out of his hands, “i was just looking through our photos. we should buy more film soon, by the way.” jungwon hummed in response, hands moving to plate your food.

“we can over the weekend,” he replied, sliding it in front of you before pressing a long kiss to your forehead. the smell of sweet, buttery pancakes and bacon filled your senses. you noticed the strawberries that were cut up into little hearts that sat neatly off to the side.

just how you liked them.

“i’m gonna go change. yunjin will actually skin me alive if we’re late again,” he grumbled before disappearing into his bedroom.

you watched him walk away, his golden locks bouncing with each step. you let out a quiet laugh, picking up your fork and digging in.

it wasn’t difficult to understand, then.

somewhere along the way, ‘i’ started turning into ‘we’.

his hand started to fit in yours like it was always meant to be there. your mornings were often spent together rather than separately—much to yunjin’s dismay, who swore he had completely stolen you away from her.

your chest ached, but not in a painful way. it was the kind of ache that comes with realizing you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be—right here with him by your side.

because he never said “i love you” like it was something he owned. rather, he meant it like something you had built—together.

jungwon didn’t just love you.

he included you.

in his life, in every word he spoke, every story he shared, and every moment he lived.

you realized you liked yourself more when you were apart of something—something soft, but heavy with meaning and purpose.

something, or someone, like yang jungwon.

jungwon who turned ‘we’ into something more than just a simple word.

jungwon who loved you delicately, but still passionate in his own way, who assured you from the very beginning that he was all in.

he introduced you to a type of love that was soft and easy, but it was one that meant everything.

to put it simply, you liked yourself better when you were with him.

you always had, and you always will.

“y/n, have you seen my sweater? if riki took it again, i swear i’m about to go full jackie chan on that kid,” his voice called from down the hall, sharp and exasperated.

a sudden thud made you flinch, followed by a muffled yelp and the clatter of hangers shifting in his closet.

then, a beat later—slightly winded, definitely bruised ego.

“i’m fine! totally fine... ow.”

yeah, always.

fin.

© wrldhoon 2025

[viviansturns]

im so scared to write smutt. like how do you start? seems weird. i’ve wrote fluff and angst before but i have a bunch of smut fics in my drafts im too scared to post. how’s the best way to start?

ok im glad you asked!! here's some tips for anyone startingg! im by no means an expert but idkk.

so you dont need to start ALL in. the best smut starts with tension, emotions, and a reason it’s happening. like if they're kissing and it gets out of hand, or someones comforting the other, or unresolved tension, etc etc. in other words, just like how in real life theres foreplay, give your writing a lil foreplay instead of jumping into it!

tips to start:

start with making out scenes to kinda break that feeling

have someone say “tell me to stop” or “do you want this?”because consent is super hot <33

USE INTERNAL MONOLOGUE. if they’re nervous, let them be nervous. it humanizes it, and also reflects your own emotions!

and btw: writing smut isn’t about how explicit you are. it’s about feeling. sometimes just an internal thought or feeling of the moment hits harder than three paragraphs of anatomy lingo. start soft, and get bolder as you go.

also your first smut fic will feel weird, and mine SURE did. i was terrified to post it, but at the end of the day its going to get easier and people are going to love it!

last things

if you need help with any writing in general (and this goes out to anybody on sturntumblr) FEEL FREE TO DM ME FOR HELP!!! i am MORE than willing to help anyone with their work <33

also if you're posting your first smut fic, i give everyone 100% permission to TAG ME because i love supporting people and also i love smut :3

[nezuswritingdesk]

aspen's first bowlcut

tags: domestic fluff, family content, just overall fluff and happy stuff, papa zayne and mama reader (in this fic, reader is gender neutral but gets called mama by aspen), part of my lads parenting au, possibly ooc zayne, not proofread

a/n: helloo everyone! based on the polls last time , the zayne parenting au won so that means we'll be able to see little aspen once more with his father! for anyone new here or unfamiliar as to who aspen is, he's zayne's eldest son (based on my parenting au which you can read here if you wanna know more about him). additionally, this post was inspired by this one i made early onto my acc)

i'm sorry that it took so long for me to finish it, im still stuck in writer's block and i was still busy with uni augh and i kept on rotting instead of writing, im sorry it took too long i hope its okay

wc: 1.0k (1,092) words

content warnings: a very cute little boy, the overall asian childhood experience of a bowlcut, zayne thinking about his growing baby boy whos still a tiny marshmallow in his eyes,

“Mama!” Aspen calls out to you.

 You had placed his younger sister, Aurora, down for a quick afternoon nap, and was heading back to the living room when he called. Little Aspen sits down on the floor, legs cross, and his hazel eyes going through photos of his father, Zayne , that his parents–Aspen’s grandparents, had sent from when Zayne was little. 

“Yeah sweetheart, whats up?” You answer, approaching him. You sit down beside him, your eyes going through the various photos of your husband as well.

 Aspen holds up one to you. It was of Zayne, perhaps when he was around the age of five, his round cheeks makes him look like a chipmunk storing food, his bright hazel eyes shine through the decades old photo, but what made Aspen curious is Zayne’s hair.  It was a bowlcut. 

“Mama, why is papa’s hair like that?” He asks. 

“Like what, honey?” You ask back. He points at the photo again. You nod your head. 

“That was papa’s hair when he was younger,” You explain, “I remember when he came to play with us and your uncle Caleb starts to laugh at his face. He calls papa Coconut head.”

“ Papa nut?” He asks. 

You stifle a laugh, “Something like that, hon.” 

“ I want that.” You pause, trying to see if you heard it properly. Aspen, your sweet respectful and kind boy that looks and acts like his father, wants a bowlcut. Just like his father when he was little too. 

“A bowlcut?” 

He nods. “Can I, mama?” 

“If you want so, honey. You can get a haircut like that. Do you wanna surprise papa with it?” 

He nods excitedly, clapping his hands. “I wanna have coconut hair! I want coconut hair, mama!” 

You smile, nodding along. “Are you sure about that, honey?” 

He nods, certain of his decision. You nod along, telling him that he can get his haircut during the weekend, giving it time to settle before heading back to kindergarten on Monday. 

Aspen couldn’t wait till Saturday. 

All he talked about was his upcoming haircut to anyone who’d listen- his parents, Aurora, his teacher, his best friend, Thalassa, anyone. His eyes light up with excitement, counting down the day till he can get the haircut he desires. 

On a Saturday afternoon, you brought him to the hair salon you’d brought him since, asked the usual hairdresser Aspen liked, and waited patiently with other waiting parents, kids, and everyone in between. Aspen sits down in a blue car, looking ecstatic.

“What haircut do you want kiddo? Did you bring a picture?” You can hear the hairdresser ask Aspen. Aspen looks to your direction, his black hair tousling as he glances over at you with the same excitement he and his father have when a tasty macaron was offered. 

“Can you show it to them, mama?” Aspen asks. You nod, getting up to stand behind him and get the old photo of Zayne that he insisted as reference. The hairdresser cracks a smile before nodding. 

“You want a bowlcut like your papa, kiddo?” The hairdresser asks him. He nods. “I want coconut hair! Like papa!” 

You and the hairdresser laugh again. 

“Alright then kiddo, let’s make that possible.”

The hairdresser begins to work through Aspen’s thick hair, a gift from both you and Zayne. Aspen tries his best to stay still, occasionally giggling from the feel of scissors brushing past against his hair. He talks to the hairdresser, telling him everything that had happened the past few days– how he read books, played with his sister, the shows he liked on TV, anything to keep the hairdresser company and with a bundle of stories. 

You had been bringing him to the same hairdresser and salon since his first haircut, making him comfortable and assimilated with others, resulting in his little chatterbox self breaking free from his usual quiet and shy nature. 

After a few minutes later, the hairdresser takes the cape off Aspen’s neck. 

“Tada, a bowlcut like your papa!” The hairdresser beams. Aspen gasps in awe, his eyes glued to the mirror as he admires his new haircut. His bangs went across his face, and the length was equal. It made his chubby cheeks even rounder like a round marshmallow.  A very cute marshmallow. 

“I look like papa!” He beams, “But like…mallow papa…” He squishes his cheeks, gasping again before looking at the hairdresser once more, “Thank you!” 

You helped him down from the chair, paid the salon and left a tip to the hairdresser before leaving the salon, hand-in -hand with him.

“You like your hair, baby?” You ask, heading over to the bakery you and Zayne would meet up at. Aspen nods, his head bobbing. 

“I love it mama!” He beams, his smile reaching the ends of his cheeks. You nod, glancing down at him. He had that same smile Zayne has when he too was little, even if your husband claims that your son got yours. 

“I love it as well, it makes your cheeks even rounder like a cute marshmallow,” You remark, ruffling his hair, “Let’s go to your dad and sister, and get a macaron for your new haircut.” 

“Yay!” Aspen beams, walking alongside you as you both headed to the bakery where Zayne and Aurora were waiting. 

“Papa!!” Aspen beams, letting go of your hand as he runs to Zayne’s direction. You chase after him, calling his name but Aspen is faster, and immediately sits beside his father. 

“Look papa!” Aspen smiles, “Same hair!” 

Zayne laughs, ruffling his hair gently. Aurora was looking at her brother with a surprise and a bit confused expression, perhaps surprised by his haircut.

 Zayne smiles, seeing his son’s content and happy expression, knowing how much he loved the haircut. He observes Aspen’s eyes, the same hazel ones as his but is so full of life and excitement. He observed the way he talks, bubbly but gentle and kind. 

The same things Zayne was when he was younger.

 The same manners and personality that his parents adored, that his friends cherished, the same things you and the children love. 

All in the small body of a four-year old boy that he and you call their son. 

“Papaaaa” Aspen calls out to him, breaking Zayne’s train of thought, “Do you like my hair?” He asks softly. 

Zayne smiles, his vision a bit misty. He hums, softly placing his lips against Aspen’s forehead. 

“Mhm…we have the same hair now, Aspen. We have the same hair now.” 

[veeneris]

DESOLATED SPRING; SUMMER CAME. [suguru geto x fem!reader]

— i. death to the fool. one | two | three || masterlist

summary: suguru had been the first love you'd never gotten over from. so, when left without closure, you'd abandoned sorcery for good. but after paying him a visit at the worst possible time, you agree to go back to him. though, is it really for selfless reasons?

tags: SMUT! minors dni!!, P in V sex, fingering, blowjob, thigh riding, drunk sex (?? kind of), alcohol consumption, some spanking but nothing crazy, allusions to a breeding king, creampie, dom suguru but hes pretty soft just kinda mean, reader is a bit pathetic, suguru male manipulator?? we dont know.

word count: 10k.

n/a: when i tell u i started this over a year ago.. man. time flies. dont know wtf posessed me to write this bc im a nanami girl through and through. also this is my first time actually writing the smut to publish it so i was screeching internally the whole way. anywho !!!! any constructive criticism is appreciated. love yall mwa

Whatever conclusion you would ever get to reach regarding Suguru’s motives didn’t matter. The memory of him snuck through the gaps between your fingers; like emanating water from a fountain you cup with your hands in thirst, or sand sneaking though the needle thin hole at the center of an hourglass. He was but a figure, a dark mass of atoms, faceless, in the distance, whose presence and soul flickers like a candle that's never fully blown. And wonder hits sometimes. It whispers in your ear, drowned in emotion yet dried in hopelessness, “could I have changed this? Could I if, for a minute, I’d glanced back at the melted, petroleum black trail his thoughts dripped of while he walked?” 

Whatever conclusion you were seeking regarding Suguru’s motives didn’t matter. He was gone, left somewhere; the words he’d once pronounced reverberated in your brains, muted harshly by forgetfulness. His hands, once so warm and positively heavy on your shoulders, now felt like the soreness after staying on a plank for a bit too long. And as that movie he’d watched with you said, “his eyes, once so magnetic, now just felt empty.” 

Or at least they did las time you saw him. Who knows about now. Perhaps the wilting of his self was the drought in a blazing summer. Perhaps he didn’t abandon you — the three of you — and he stood somewhere, enjoying a new Sun, imagining your return. 

And oh, such ridiculous thought it was. You sat still; gaze lost in the intricacies of the printed characters which formed the text of one of the many ads in the newsletter. You’d picked it up after some person conveniently forgot it in the seat next to you, as you used the subway to get to your office. There, dark ink which acted like the void Nietzsche described, stared back at you. Whatever shapes that made whatever words were blurry and strange; that which mattered was the figure in pixelated black and white next to them. Familiar, yet someone so different. His smile, once so sweet and even mischievous, now arrogant and malicious. His lips, once made to murmur comforting, sensible thoughts, now grown to affirm bullshit. And yet... 

“Say, I’ve noticed you’re looking quite tired lately...” you absentmindedly comment to an unsuspecting coworker. Of course she has. A pesky little curse has been snaking up her leg for around three weeks now. It’s a grade three at most, but it’s not like you’d do anything about it nowadays. Your days slaying curses were over. 

Mirai is her name. She turns to you in a rather sheepish way, almost ashamed that you noticed the dark circles under the pale concealer she uses. “Ah, well, I’ve had some trouble sleeping lately,” she explains. Under your silent stare, she relents. “I’ve tried to get the doctor to prescribe me some sleeping pills, but you know how they get. With “oh, just your cycle”, and all that...” 

“I see.” You smile sympathetically, feigning coyness as you carefully pluck a certain paper out of your bag. “This may sound kind of crazy, but my roommate was complaining about the same stuff for a while, and she got much better after visiting this guy—” explaining tentatively, holding just the right amount of eye contact. She doesn’t look convinced. “If I’m being honest, I’ve always been rather skeptic, but rumor has it that they’re cutting staff again soon. And since Takeshi said your productivity had gone down these past few months, I thought I’d just let you know that I’m here to...” 

It works. Her throat bobs as she gulps inconspicuously, taking the poster skittishly and checking it on both sides with a flick of her wrist. Her lip twitched. “Look, I’m not sure I—” You interrupt, anxiety in the way you hold her hands easily mistaken for concern. Your pupils, flickering dashingly fast between her own. 

“Please. You know I don’t get along with anyone else here... And besides, I’m worried about you.” You squeeze, fingers warm over her own, eyes full of desperate drive. “I really am worried. The boss has been pretty hard on you lately. Look, I’ll— I’ll go with you, okay? And if it’s useless, then you lose nothing! I don’t want to take any chances...” 

Mirai sighs and fixes you with a resigned look.  

“Alright... If you say so,” she begrudgingly utters. It’s obvious that her accepting the offer is just to please you — or rather, make you shut up. You had that kind of effect in people. Just like Satoru eventually left you be whenever you, once again, refused to take on missions; or maybe the way Shoko stopped calling altogether. 

You smile reassuringly the moment she accepts, and do so once again the moment you find yourselves in front of the Buddhist temple Suguru, ‘the priest’, stays at. The flat, renewed, smooth concrete steps that climb up to the entrance almost seem to gleam under the sun’s white light. And a needle sneaked right in between the rugosities of your brain, prickling right in the memory of Suguru’s complaints about the unkept, cobbled pavements that some temples you’d visited together in missions had. New reminder, perhaps, that whoever took over him after Riko was killed was just some shadow of what he was destined to be, but not someone else entirely. Truth was that a sick sense of jealousy corroded you whenever you thought about it that way... Some girl he’d known for so little, changing all of you, ruining what you had. Ruining what you could’ve been. A dark, unwelcome vine, rotting and dying and desperate to be fed, sliding around the wet walls of your beating, bloody, fleshy engine and squishing hard enough to provoke leakage. Guilt; seeping into your arteries and acting as anesthesia. Emotion, as you bit the inside of the corners of your mouth, pulling at the skin and ripping it., unfeeling, uncaring, when your nervous system strikes back and tries to force you to stop.  

But it’s not the sharp pain that wakes you up, and neither Mirai’s whisper as you stand in an empty room. You didn’t pay much attention to its appearance: three scrolls hanging on a wall caught your eye, though, made the cogs in your brain turn. Death to the fool, punishment to the weak, love to the strong. 

You wondered, ironically chastising yourself at the same time, which one of them you aspired to be. A depraved part of you wished to be all three if it meant having Suguru’s eyes on you once again. If not filled with love, at least sparkling in approval. You were a fool, a desperate woman who could not get over her teenage crush. And if fools deserved the cold embrace of death, you wished it to be a result of Suguru’s hands or whatever they were holding. Whether it was a blade to your chest, a poisoned treat, or his fingers squeezing your throat. “You dumb, useless bitch,” he’d seethe, bruising and mean and oh so mockingly. You’d cry, for sure, if he ever looked at you like that. “You left behind sorcery, like a coward would. How does that make you any better than a monkey, hm?” The world feels light, and he’s real and there and it's his words that ache and not his absence. “Fucking whore. Look at yourself. I should end you here and now, throw your corpse somewhere and never look back.” 

And a sick little zap of excitement made you squirm in place. 

“Are you even listening?!” Mirai whisper-yells, slapping your elbow lightly. “Look, I really appreciate your intentions, but those people outside looked so... weird, and this place is genuinely just giving me the creeps—” 

She goes completely silent as the door behind you slides open. And your breath catches in anticipation. Time slows in the moments that followed. The world was sucked in and twisted by a supermassive blackhole that didn’t accept you there. From inside, mere seconds passed; inside your skull, the three years you knew Suguru played on loop for what seemed five times over. Further stood the almost decade after. The eternity without him. 

“Apologies for my delay,” says a familiar voice in a foreign way. You have not looked back yet and know it’s him already. There’s a deepness, smooth and somehow melodic, to the way his vocal cords make noise. It sounds chilly rather than calming, but the fake warmness that decorates his mannerisms is enough to make your belly flutter. “There were urgent matters I was required for.” 

The wooden clacks of his steps are heard as he walks into the room. He doesn’t focus on you — not yet; he’s tranquil as he lays sideways on the room’s decking, then places his elbow on the rest designed for it. He then looks, and you do so too. A black yukata embraces his body, and a green and yellow kasaya drapes over it. His hair is still long (if not even longer), but the part of if that isn’t tied into the bun he always wore falls down his back; his earrings, too, have remained the exact same (two big black circles; earlobes gauged). His face is, perhaps, what’s changed the most yet stayed eerily similar. His factions more mature in the soft lines they draw under his eyes, those tinted a dark chocolate brown you so vividly remember. They have a teasing, mocking but fascinated glint when they land on yours. You bow your head immediately, playing your coyness off as respect. 

“That’s alright... sir,” answers Mirai, imitating your gesture. “So, uh...” She pauses, anxiously turning to face you in a silent scream for help. 

“So, you have trouble sleeping — even more getting out of bed, you’re constantly tired, you have no energy for any physical activity...” he hums, eyes zeroing in the worm shaped curse that coils around her left leg. It tightens, constricts, and the occasional clacking sound its jaw makes sometimes makes your nose scrunch up. Mirai’s eyes, however, open as wide as plates at the accuracy of his description. “I’m assuming I’m correct, yes?” he grins, wide and Chesire cat-like. 

Mirai gapes at him. “Yes.” 

“Hm, just stay still for a second...” Suguru outstretches his hand, eyes lidded as he focuses on the creature. It screeches and writhes, going as far as to try and bite into Mirai’s thigh. It doesn’t work. It folds on itself and constricts into a ball that resembles a magnified marble, tinted forest green and flashing bronze. 

Your coworker gasps as her back straightens. Her eyes look almost starry when she glances back at you. She’s about to open her mouth, when— 

“And you, I’m afraid...” Suguru looks at you, his eyebrows are pinched in a honeyed, fake concern. “The evil that bites at you is a much more complicated thing. I’m afraid I’m in need of a much more powerful ritual.” 

“Uh,” You blink repeatedly. “I’m, uhm... I didn’t come here for... That’s...” 

Terrible? Or rather... Lucky you, ‘to have realized soon enough’? Mirai’s pupils have been glazed over in concern as she stares, surprised by the sudden turn of events. Suguru’s lips spit some excuse that’s as easy to swallow as a berry dipped in chocolate. The three of you walk to the entrance as she thanks the ‘priest’. You don’t have the heart to mutter encouraging words as she grips your hands and thanks you. 

“I’m telling you. It’s worked! You’ll be alright, okay? It’s nothing, I’m positive. You know how these things are always exaggerated. You’re fine,” she repeats. You smile. Your throat has been tied into a knot, your flesh tingles. She mistakes your paleness as fear of the unknown — it is, rather, fear of confrontation. 

“I’ll see you on Monday” is the best you can come up with. “I’m just happy you’re okay... yeah?” 

Whatever Mirai says next escapes you, and in the blink of an eye the sun is setting (early December’s effect, though you had already come in late anyway) and all you see is her back as she walks down the steps to the bottom of the mountain (you can’t hear them anymore. She looks like a grain of rice with that white coat of hers in the distance). You turn back to Suguru. He’s already looking. There’s an eerie silence as, for some reason you silently curse, no one’s outside anymore. 

And he, under your skittish stare, chuckles. He covers his mouth with a sleeve, elegant in his movement, corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement and pupils glittering in a mix of curiosity and excitement, “I’m surprised you’d set up such a twisted show for a mere excuse... You even went as far as to let your friend over there suffer. I wonder for how long.” 

“She’s not my friend.” 

“Oh?” 

He fixes you with a mocking, brief curl of his lip. You shrink into yourself. 

“She’s my coworker,” you murmur, less bravely. 

“I see you’ve stopped considering everyone you interact with a ‘friend’,” he muses.  

Your nose scrunches up in distaste. You didn’t sense real malice in his teasing, but it still made you feel small and funny to look at. “I guess.” 

He pulls out a sanitizing spray. “Since she’s no ‘friend’, I’m assuming you won’t be offended if I clean myself from... her, then. I don’t want a monkey’s stench on me.” 

“Go right ahead.” 

He even hums a little tune while he uses it on his hands and clothes. Sighing happily as he puts it away, he offers you a beaming smile. “Ah, much better! Now, now. As much as I am delighted to see you again, [Name], I’m also curious about... Well, everything, really. Do you really think you need an excuse to come see me?” 

“...Excuse— uh, excuse me?” 

He pouts slightly, brows quivering in a twinge of genuine, though overplayed, emotion. 

“Well, all these years, no news from you... And suddenly you appear with that coworker of yours, as if you’re not perfectly capable of exorcising that little curse yourself.” 

You swallow. “I’m not an exorcist anymore,” you say, almost embarrassed under the wary façade. “She wanted to try this, try you, and asked me to accompany her,” you lie. 

“Not even a birthday letter, I received from you. Or Christmas postcards. Or a New Years text. I was really sad about it for quite some time, you know?” he continues. “Ah... And even then, you still came back, after so long. Did you assume I’d ignore you? Are you uncomfortable in my presence?” 

‘I was hoping that you wouldn’t,’ you wanted to say. “As I said, Mirai wanted me to come.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am not,” you huff. “Curses are none of my business anymore.” 

“What about sorcerers? Are they still any of your business?” 

A beat of silence. A rather awkward one. 

“They handle themselves just fine without me.” 

“...I see,” he says, tongue clicking. He sounds disappointed. There was something dancing on the tip of his tongue, but he refrained from continuing. The disappointment finds itself contagious when it curls in your stomach as you realize his words sting. “Say, why don’t you come in for some tea? We should catch up.” 

As tempted as you are to accept, there’s a strange feeling about him. You open your mouth to say no, when he positions himself behind you and gently rests his hands on your shoulders. 

“Come on, [Name]...” he sighed, “I’ve missed you so much. Do you know how embarrassing it was to pull that stunt in front of your friend?” 

“Coworker,” you correct lowly. 

“Your coworker, then” he sighs. “Still... Please? Just for an hour. I’ll take you home right after if you want me to.” 

“I’d rather you stay far, far away from my house.” 

Unsure, you have no time to deny as he pushes you lightly in front of him, making you walk. And honestly, you would’ve ended up accepting anyway (even if you’d never admit it to yourself now that you could blame him), but in his pleading, you found Satoru’s playful pushiness rather than Suguru’s temperance. You didn’t know how to feel about it yet. 

You’d forgotten how persuasive Suguru could be. One cup of tea turned to a finished teapot, and somehow that turned into three glasses of whiskey with a big, nice ice cube. You drink, content with the warmth in your stomach. 

“Isn’t this a sin?” you question when he follows your same action. “Gotta protect the Buddhist façade, oh priest...” 

“Not quite a sin. As long as I don't drink excessively, it should be fine.” He shrugs. “Not that I particularly care, with all due respect... But you know how much I hate hangovers, anyway.” 

You hum. In all honesty, everything about the past hour had been, and still was, quite awkward and weird. You sit on an elegant couch, some feet away from Suguru. There’s a large coffee table in which sit the empty teapot, cups, and a now empty bottle of blue label whiskey. Expensive stuff. You’d prefer the humble company, though. Or would you? 

“So...” he breaks the silence, turning his body towards yours, resting his face on an arm propped up on the back pillow of the couch. “How come you left sorcery?” 

The gulp of whiskey you down feels thicker than maple syrup. Almost chokes you, too. You reply sharply, throat burning, before you can actually think of a response, “I never felt like it was for me anyway.” 

“We both know that’s a lie.” He stares. “You know you’re so much better than some monkey like the one you brought today...” he goes on, apparently disgusted. “You could keep them like pathetic little pets if you so wished.” 

“That’s weird. I’ll pass.” 

“You used to enjoy that,” he muses mockingly. “Being a pet, I mean.” 

The atmosphere was filled with discomfort once again. At least for you. Suguru’s lidded gaze was teasing as he, too, finished his glass. 

“Something the matter?” he asks, nonchalant. Fucking asshole. He gets up and walks towards the alcohol cabinet. “It’s not like I’m making it up.” He sneaks behind you, bottle of strawberry tequila in hand – your favorite.  

“Yeah, well, not anymore... I’m no one’s pet,” you awkwardly cut him off. “I don’t like where this is going.” 

“Going where?” he muses. He’s not keen on addressing the elephant in the room. 

You are not, either. So, you shush and mutter, “Where’s the shot glasses?” 

You knew mixing strong drinks wasn’t a good idea. Being there wasn’t either. Why the hell not? 

So, he chuckles and groans when he gets up once again, grabbing the glasses. 

He reaches over your shoulder to place them on the table, then wraps his arms around your neck, bending so that his breath is on your ear. 

Your world feels fuzzy and your senses are slowed. Though, you’re pretty sure Suguru’s the same. “I’ve missed you, [Name],” he murmurs once more. This time, it feels more real. “And now you’re back... I can’t help wondering if you’ve missed me, too.” 

He nuzzles your neck and his hot breath fans your neck. You’re starting to sweat. “I have,” you sheepishly admit, and feel him grinning against you. 

You fell right into his trap, like he wanted you to. 

“What should we do about that, hm?” he murmurs. He then licks a stripe up your neck, and whispers right into your ear. “I’m not letting you leave again, [Name].” 

You’re not sure you want to leave, either, as his hands start trekking lower and lower, unbuttoning your shirt without resistance and attempting to sneak underneath clumsily. You’re both too drunk to think straight.  

“Please,” you stammer, chest heaving as you finally feel his soft hands on your skin, “please, let me kiss you.” 

“Fuck, love, I want nothing more.” 

He circled around the couch as even in his poor judgment he could tell that jumping over it and potentially cracking his skull on the table was probably not the hottest thing to do. He grabbed your waist once he reached you, and flipped your positions, making you straddle him. You could feel his hard-on pressing on your thigh. 

“You see what you do to me, hm? And you haven’t even touched me yet, sweetheart,” he whispers against your neck kissing down up until your collarbone, where he left a little love-bite. The loud whimper you make embarrassed you. “I’ve missed your precious voice. No one else’s compares, my sweet.” 

You can’t take it anymore and roughly press your mouth against his. His tongue licks your lower lip and slips past, moving along yours sensually. Taking your hips, he makes you grind against him. 

“Ah!” 

“You look so beautiful,” he whimpers. His hair sticks to his forehead and his face is flushed a nice shade of pink. His lidded gaze, both hazed by the drink and the lust, pretty much just looks like heart-eyes. “God, [Name], you don’t know how many times I’ve replayed our tapes, just to feel something...” 

That makes your hips twitch. “You greedy f-fucker,” you huff, pulling on his collar to get a good angle of his neck, “you kept almost all of them. I’ve had to rewatch the same two for years.” You attack right under his jugular, biting to keep the flesh in place and sucking. 

He moans, throwing his head back, and spanks your ass, moving his hands to grab it. “Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, “the camcorder was mine— ngh!” he stops when he feels you grab his dick through his clothes, lifting yourself up from his lap for your arm to fit. 

“What’s wrong, Suguru?” you murmur, biting his earlobe. “Cat got your tongue?” 

“A bitch, more like,” he retorts, letting out a low laugh. One of his hands moved up to your neck, “And here I was, trying to be nice today and give you a warm welcome. Don’t you think I’ve let you play around long enough, hm? Or has our time apart clouded your judgement?” You pant. His hold wasn’t too hard. You maintain eye contact. He wore a smug smirk now, his eyes fiery. When you shake your head no, he snorts. “Use your words, love. I can’t understand you otherwise.” 

“No, sir, I’m sorry,” you utter, submitting immediately. His eyes glint. You gave him what he wanted without resistance. 

“Good girl,” he loosens his grip, “you don’t need to apologize.” He pulls you close again for a wet kiss, biting your lower lip.  “Now take those clothes off for me.” 

You eagerly obey, prying them off carelessly and throwing them off to the floor. As you did so, Suguru began playing with your chest, pinching your nipples playfully, twisting them harshly to make you hiss in pain. As an apology, or maybe because he just felt like it, he took it between his lips, licking it hungrily, nipping once or twice. You shivered in pleasure as he did so, mewling for more. He manhandled you to lie you down, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Why are these still on, hm?” he asked teasingly, tracing his finger around the lining of your panties, snapping the waistband. “Fuck, you’re really wet,” he comments casually as he eyes the darker patch on the fabric, prying your legs apart and resting his cheek on one of your bent knees. “How long has it been since you last got some dick?” 

“None of your business,” you spit. He frowns, and slaps your clit harshly, making you whine. “...A year and a half,” you admit, mortified. 

“See? It wasn’t that hard,” he snickers condescendingly, his fingers playing with your cunt over your panties. 

“Oh... Just fucking take those off.” 

“Be patient, dear.” 

“I’ve been masturbating thinking about you for ten years, I think that��s long enough,” you say, desperate. He smirks, pressing light kisses over your knee and inner thigh. 

“I know, my love. Me too,” he murmurs lovingly, finally pulling off your panties. Toying with your folds, he flicks your clit gently, making you moan. “Why don’t I prepare you for your reward?” 

“Please.” 

He presses a finger in, then a second one. In and out, curling them at the right spot. You’re on cloud nine, one of your hands toying with your breasts, the other gripping his forearm. 

“You’re taking it so well, my dear,” he praises lovingly. “Such a good girl. Keep those legs open for me. Mhm, just like that. So pretty.” 

He speeds up, his palm rubbing your clit just right. Your head spins from the pleasure and the booze. “D-don’t stop, Suguru, ah!” 

“I can feel you tighten up, baby. Are you close, hm? You wanna cum for me?” 

“Y-yes, yes, fuck, please—” 

He chuckles mockingly, and pulls his fingers out. “That’s too bad. You’re only cumming on my cock today.” 

You whimper, staring with lust as he strips naked. His boxers remain, a very visible hardness underneath. You can even see the precum leaking through them. Your nails softly run down his abdomen to the waistband, sending him a pleading look. His look is of approval, so you slowly pull them down. The sight makes you bite your lip to suppress a moan. The body’s as light as the rest of his skin, with some angry veins noticeable; the head is of a light shade of pink, dripping clear precum. It’s bigger than average. Around, maybe, 16cm? Girthy as well. As you stare hungrily, he snorts. 

“You can stop drooling now, love,” he rasps with sarcasm. With a hand, he holds one of your legs apart, gripping tightly the flesh of your thigh. With the other, he begins to pump himself. “You want it inside you, huh?” He mocks as he sees you start to get antsy. 

“I thought you were trying to be nice today,” you complain, clicking your tongue. 

“Changed my mind when you started acting like a cunt.” 

He presses the tip to your folds, collecting your wetness. A silence filled with expectation settles. 

(In)Conveniently, a buzzing sound came from the pocket of your jeans, awakening you from the drunken trance. You groan. 

[Three missed calls from: ‘Kikiii<3’] 

“Just ignore it,” Suguru sighs when he sees you unlock the screen. 

Kikiii<3: bitch where u at?????? 

Kikiii<3: ur weirdo rich hot friend jst showed up 

Kikiii<3: and wants to talk to u like....... rn 

“Who is it anyway?” Geto asks impatiently, staring at you as you frown at the screen. 

“My roommate,” you mumble out, feeling yourself slowed down due to the drinks. 

And, as for the friend... The one and only Satoru Gojo. Fuck. Oh, fuck, shit, fuck. 

“Uh–” Suddenly, you’re hyperaware of the situation you’re in. Suguru’s dick about to enter you, his hands holding your hips. An impending doom, hung above your head like a ticking grandfather clock, getting close to the song at midnight. Once it sounds, you’d be back at the start of a new day, a new grief — and it was sure to be hellish. You push his arms off, sobered up. “I’m sorry, this is so sudden. I have to go.” 

“What’s wrong, my sweet?” he hums as you stand up, clearly slow and still on the piss. “Are you alright? Did something happen?” 

“It’s, uhm...” Your head spins as you put your underwear back on in a rush and hop to put your pants. “Nothing to worry about, I just have to leave.” 

“What...?” he scoffs, confused. He, too, slowly begins to dress up. Messily. 

Kikiii<3: FFS DONT LEAVE ME ON SEEN HES LIKE SCARY MAD NOW 

Kikiii<3: ur ruining my chances w him hes just staring at me..... ominously......... 

Kikiii<3: what if he thinks im ugly:( 

You: no he doenst .tell him to come pick me uu if hes o worried 

Kikiii<3: uhhhh [nickname] r u drunk 

You: maybe :3ccc 

You: jst tell him to  come 

Kikiii<3: girl istg T_T ts so awkward i will kms in front of u 

You: [location in real time] 

“It was nice seeing you,” you hiccup, doing your best to stop your mind from swirling as you button your shirt. “Will probably be the last time. I don’t think this is healthy for either of us,” you stumble, grabbing your purse and your jacket with one arm, holding the shirt’s collar shut with your free hand. 

He frowns and straightens, taking two menacing steps. The air stills. 

“Last time?” he smirks. “Don’t lie to yourself like that... You know you want more. You’ll be back here sooner than later, dear.” 

As you walk away, he follows. Steps echoing in the long hallways of the building, dim city lights seep through the windows and guide your way. He speaks, if anything calmly, calling you – demanding you to turn around. To talk to him. Saying your name, so sweetly – calling you by the dumb nicknames he used to. Never an idiot as much as a love fool, you identified a certain passive aggressiveness in his tone. One that proved to be dangerous, leaning on threatening. 

He, however, did not attack. God bless Ballantine's. Nor did he chase you once you finally reached the concrete stairs leading down the hill. You turn one last time. He rests his body lazily on one of the pillars, gaze pinned on your figure, lustful and sleepy. He had always been a lightweight, quiet and horny when he was on the piss. You swear he stared right at your ass the whole time you walked downstairs. 

(He had a wolfish grin on his face, too, as he licked his lips and dragged himself back inside.) 

Sat at the last step, you stared right at the floor for what seemed like an eternity. Visiting Suguru felt like relapsing — because it was, probably. You now felt ridiculous for huffing at Shoko when she didn’t quit smoking when you did, as she had agreed to. You hadn’t talked to her in a while. You missed her.  

A thought flashed you when you saw (one of) Gojo’s (many) black, luxurious car(s) slowly pull up. The Six Eyes. He’d probably seen everything. How to look at him now? Your phone buzzed with Keiko’s messages, full of concern. 

You: its all good. gojos here. idk if ill sleep at home today. ily bye 

Kikiii<3: WILL U STOP PLAYING NONCHALANT IM WORRIED SICK 

You: sybau 

You: ill tell u when i see u 

Kikiii<3: damn ok u fuckin cunt (pls b safe ilysm) 

You didn’t bother replying. The car door shut with force, and now there was a very angry, very scary Satoru frowning down at you. His breath was loud. He was visibly trying to relax. Two fragments of sky stared at you from beneath his sunglasses. 

“...Hi, ‘Toru...” you greet sheepishly, hunched over and unable to look him in the eye. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he spits. “Are you a toddler? Do I have to check on you every three days so you don’t pull moronic stunts like this, huh?” 

Your lip begins to tremble. Nothing hurt more than your best friend’s disappointment. He’s visibly shook. He sounds hurt, too. Gojo’s a cheery guy, almost childish at times. He rarely snapped. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You’re— Ugh...” He rubs his temples. A hand of his pulls his hair back. You don’t miss the way he mouths an insult under his breath. “Just get in the car. You won’t fucking guess what.” 

He helps you stand up when he sees your legs shake. It's cold outside and you still wore work clothes, thin jacket rendered useless. “C’mere,” he mutters, gently pulling you up. You step arrhythmically, shoes loudly clanking. His were lighter as he steadies the pace. He opens the passenger seat’s door, sits you down, and puts on your seatbelt. Not ten seconds after, he’s behind the steering wheel. 

“Can I sleep at your place today?” you asked, breaking the silence. The engine replies before him. 

“It’ll be for the best,” he says, ominously. His mouth opens, just to sigh shut. “[Name], you couldn’t have picked a worst fucking day if you tried.” 

In order to be safe, tall structures such as skyscrapers or rollercoasters need to be flexible. Wobble when strong winds hit them, stay flexible so they can alleviate wind pressure, avoiding crumbling down, and ensure they don’t snap under force. In a way, you believed sorcery was the same. It’s a wild world. Corrupt, strange, full of resentments that more often than not lasted centuries. But it remained a secret, an archaic force that has not yet turned completely despotic in nature. That does not, however, mean that some stop trying to break that thin, weak twig that can make everything topple over. People don’t count on the younger branches being the hardest to rip, though. They hold on to the trunk, green and bleeding (or perhaps crying?) underneath the fresh bark. While some are rotten and tired, as sturdy or high up as they may look at first, it’s the apparently feeble ones that hold on to their loyalties with claws and fangs. 

The ride was silent and frankly, awkward. He'd dropped the bomb and now was letting you process it — make sure your ears didn’t ring from the explosion so you could listen to his next words. Once again, it seemed that whatever conclusion you may have attempted to finally reach would never come. Closure used to be a rock you had to fetch, but the years you spent eroding memories from replaying them had eventually turned it into thin grains of sand you couldn’t quite keep in your palms. 

“Suguru has declared war and he’s launching an attack on Christmas,” you repeat, lips dry. Satoru’s eyes are focused on the road. You know damn well he could stare straight at you and still see where he’s going. Goes to show he can’t even look at you. “Today? Why... Like, what triggered it? I’m... this is—” 

“...I’ll tell you more about it at home.” His head tilts towards your lap. Your lap? You look down. Your phone sits there, a couple more concerned messages from Keiko were the only notifications that you had received. 

You didn’t have to overthink it. He was obviously implying that someone may have access to your phone, and therefore your mic. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You were aware that most higher-ups (or ‘stuck up senile fucks’, as Satoru often called them in private) didn’t really agree with your friend’s... orthodox methods. Still. As far as to spy on him? 

You just hum in affirmation. 

“Satoru...” 

“Yeah?” 

“I wanna throw up.” 

You can see his eye twitch under his sunglasses. 

It wasn’t long before you arrived at his house. Nowadays he often stayed in the room assigned to him in the school, but his massive fucking mansion didn’t just vanish. There you were, knelt before the toilet in one of the (at the very least) four bathrooms in his house. You puked. It was basically crystal clear, since it was mostly alcohol. Satoru stroked your back with care. As much as the sight wasn’t a nice one, there wouldn’t be much of a difference even if he stayed outside the room. He oftentimes swore you were the only person in the world that often significantly annoys him, yet he still loves. 

“[Name], did you even have dinner beforehand?” he asks between one of your breaks. Your head spins again, ethanol doing its silly little magic. You manage to shake your head no, and he sighs. “That’s fine. I’ll just order some.” 

“M-my wallet—” You suppress a gag. “It’s in my purse.” 

“My treat. You just, uh... you keep going, yeah?” He pats your back encouragingly, awkwardly choosing his words. He never knew how to act around people that weren’t sober. 

“Remember that time when we got drunk and you accidentally sent three cars flying?” you giggle dumbly, then immediately regret it when you retch. 

“You keep going, I said,” he huffs, embarrassed about it still. That was the first and only time he tried alcohol. He made you swear to never tell.  

You throw up again, tilting over the edge of the WC. Satoru’s careful hands peel your hair out of your sweaty face, softly rubbing your back still. 

“I-I think I’m done,” you sentence after some seconds of silence. You straighten your back. He silently hands you a glass of sink water that you tiredly gulp down.  

“You sure you’re good?” he checks. You nod. “Alright, let’s go sit on the couch.” 

He ordered some food at your favorite restaurant while you washed your face and changed to comfier clothes. You intentionally left your phone on his bedside table. Satoru soon follows and leaves it there as well, locking the master bedroom’s door as you both sit on the couch. 

Still somewhat dizzy, you sat up. You wore the same old clothes you’d left there over the years. 

“It’s been a while since I last stayed here,” you mutter thoughtfully. He nods. There’s a veil of melancholy that drapes over the both of you.  

Usually, people refer to warm blankets as comfortable, but when summer burns your back, comfort is brought by a chilly embrace. Perhaps that’s why neither of you had chosen to really get over what happened. Something about staying sad felt like a nice breeze under the scorching sun. 

In all honesty, though, you prefer to know that some things had gotten better. For the seven months after Suguru left, you cried. Either hidden away in bathrooms (sometimes the school’s ones), or hidden away in Satoru’s guest room. He used to stroke your hair with a distant look in his eyes. As much as you sobbed or sniffled, he remained completely still. As much as you loved 'Toru, you weren’t sure if a Gojo’s heart was big enough to shed tears. You for sure knew that Satoru’s brain wasn’t able to fathom the thought. He could dissociate, keep quiet, pop a headache that lasted days — but since the day he was born, Satoru knew (or rather, had been made aware) that his eyes only served one purpose: to see. See far beyond what any other human, sorcerer or not, could imagine. His beautiful blue irises never got enough rest to afford some tears. The six eyes user couldn’t cry. 

He seemed distant once more, deep in thought. Not in the rattling way, like he’d been all those years ago, but rather deep in thought. As if... considering his trust in you. 

“I’m sorry for going there,” you mumble, unsettled by his silence. “It was so stupid.” 

“Stupid doesn’t even cut it, [Name],” he sighs. He hastily takes off his sunglasses and leaves them on the table. He hunches over, elbows on his knees, and groans into his hands, which rub his face and temples. “You think I haven’t been tempted to pull the same stunt? I didn’t, though. You could’ve resisted it too if you stopped pitying yourself so much. And lo and behold, you go right back to him like an idiot because you want to get dicked down. It’s unbelievable. I didn’t question your choice to leave sorcery,” (Lies. He had. Numerous times, even,) “but this is not just about curses anymore. Suguru is about to commit mass murder if we do nothing.” 

You keep quiet as he scolds you. AS shameful as it is, there’s nothing to say — you know he’s right. With a sigh, curling up, you hug your knees and look at him. “So, what’s everyone planning to do?” 

“Half of us will stay in Shinjuku, the others will stand guard in Kyoto.” 

“That’s awfully simple.” 

“Aren’t you a smart cookie?” he clicks his tongue in annoyance. “We know nothing else, other than what he told us.” 

“Mmh. Guess that’s your best chance...” 

He frowns under his blindfold. You can tell by the faint crease over where his brow must be. 

“Your?” 

“Huh?” 

“You won’t help?” he says with an accusatory tone. 

“Uh...” You inevitably look down. Being called out was always embarrassing. 

“Suguru wants to commit mass murder, and you still assume it’s none of your business? What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” he snaps. “For the love of—” he groans, and hunches over, hands covering his face, fingers combing through his hair as he straightens once again. “This is fucking it, [Name].” 

“It, what?” you frown. “I think I made my decision clear, like over a decade ago. I’m not a sorcerer.” 

“But you are. Only sorcery can stop him, and we are short-staffed. You know what that means? Civilians, dead and buried. Dozens, if not hundreds. Defenseless. Mauled. Possessed. Disemboweled. How selfish can you be?!” 

Satoru was an independent man. He let you be, in his own way. As much as he was persistent, he wasn’t necessarily pedantic. Now, though, he glared at you, his back straightened and shoulders stiff. And he wasn’t wrong. How selfish can you be? How lazy? To be able to convince yourself it’s not your business? 

“So, you want me to fight?” you sighed. He stared, silent, as the cogs in his brain stopped and clicked, the light bulb turning on. 

“Actually... There’s something you could do.” 

The morning after, your head felt like someone had drilled a hole through your eye socket right into your skull. Hungover and weak, and lacking any sort of motivation, you sat in silence as Satoru’s car parked at the bottom of the hill. A long, snaky set of stairs lead to the top, torii gates preceding the ascension.  

“I bet most are already there,” Satoru said, breaking the ice once you both stepped out of the vehicle. A beeping sound came from it once he finally shut the engine off. “As always, expect it to be a fucking bore.” 

After ten minutes of walking upstairs in silence, and some more of you anxiously staring at the building, Gojo eventually slid open the door to the room where the attendees sat. They turned their heads, unimpressed by his tardiness, but froze upon the sight of you. 

“Sorry for being late,” Satoru smirked, “I wasn’t on my own, so blame them.” 

He briefly turned to you, softening the corners of his mouth into an encouraging smile. 

“Hi... It’s been a while,” you muttered, feeling small under their stares. Wordlessly, Nanami pulls a chair next to him so you can sit. The scraping against the floor sounds like a screech. “Thanks,” you sit. He makes a reassuring hum, but doesn’t smile. 

The meeting was nothing short of awkward. No one was sure about what you guys were supposed to do — you went in circles: was there a chance to sabotage the plan? If so, how? Could Suguru boycott yours? Would he? What intel did you have on him? Eventually, Utahime slumped forward, head on her hands. 

“I think I have an idea on how to gather more information,” Satoru says. “That’s why I brought [Name] in the first place.” 

“Jeez, what are you implyi—?” 

“I’m not implying anything. I think we should send them to pretend to be on Geto’s side,” he spat. A long pause. 

“Okay,” Mei Mei stated, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. “How would that even work? He must assume [Nickname] hasn’t cut all ties with us… For all he knows, they’re just another sorcerer. Some sort of puppy love that ended almost a decade ago won’t cloud his judgement.” 

You clear your throat. “So, yeah, about that... I, uh, may have paid him a visit yesterday.” 

Shoko, who was quietly listening in, suddenly coughed in shock. 

“WHAT?!” Utahime sits up like a light bolt, slamming her palms on the table. Ijichi flinches, and Yaga makes a sound that sounds like a sigh, a whine, and a groan, all at once. “YOU DID WHAT?!” 

“I-I didn’t know what he was up to!” you stammer. The room was tense, formalities broken, and Satoru sat in front of you, arms crossed and leaned back in a relaxed way. He wasn’t speaking up. ‘Defend yourself’ was written all over his face (at least in the subtle frown he wore... You couldn’t really see his eyes). “So, uh, I saw an ad for some weird Buddhist cult, and his photo was printed on it, and, uh, you know… I… I got curious...” 

“So that’s how he’s been gathering curses this whole time?” Mei Mei places a hand under her chin. “Smart move. No wonder he’s managed to keep a low profile... And made a living for so long.” 

Nanami sighs, “What’s done it’s done. Let’s just focus on how to move forward,” he interrupts. It’s rather cold, but you can tell he’s just trying to cut you some slack. “Is he expecting to see you again?” 

‘You know you want more.’ You hear inside your head. 

“I… guess so? He seemed like it, yeah. I did tell him to piss off before I left, though, so—” 

“I mean, you went right back to him after such a long time. It won’t surprise him if you show up there again,” Shoko states, aloof. It’s her own unique way of basically saying that what you did was pathetic. 

“Ieiri’s right,” Yaga sentences. “Your actions are questionable, to say the least... All we can do now is try to turn them around in our favor.” 

At six o’clock sharp, you stood firmly where you were the day before. Anxiety gnawed at you. You’d begged Satoru to keep an eye out for Keiko — probably the most consistent bond in your life as it is, as sad as it may sound, and also the most vulnerable if Suguru goes off the rails. Gojo, clearly not too happy, had accepted in the end. 

You kept your best poker face as the lady in front of you gave you a once over. “[Name] [Last name]?” she asked. You nodded, about to give her a response, “Master Geto told me to expect you. Come with me.” 

She looked stunning in her purple dress, and her words only made you feel more self-conscious. You didn’t even look formal — you'd grabbed some jeans and a wooly jumper and focused the rest of your energy on praying the whole time you were getting to your destination. Her judgmental side eye as you walked quietly behind her was more than reasonable, or so you thought. Not even twenty-four hours earlier, you’d stormed off hastily, promising to never come back. Maybe you should’ve grabbed a clown wig as an accessory. 

The woman paused her walking before an oddly modest wooden door to some room and knocked. After a brief pause, she solemnly opened the door. “Master Geto—” 

“What now, Manami?” Suguru’s hunched figure groaned, as he sat before a desk. “I can't believe I still have to go through all this paperwork... Monkey bullshit, all of it.” 

“[Name]’s here.” 

His back suddenly straightened, and he turned in disbelief. When your gazes clashed and you pried yours away, a big, mocking grin made its way towards his lips. “Wow... new record, sweetheart.” 

“...I’ll leave you two alone,” Manami utters awkwardly, walking backwards to shut the door again. She was gone before you could thank her. 

Suguru hums as he turns his chair. This seemed to be his room. Large, king-sized bed, even larger window, desk, comfy chair, built-in wardrobe... The place wasn’t as absurdly huge as you had expected Suguru’s bedroom to be. It wasn’t small by any means, either, but as elegant as it looked, it still had some coziness to it. Nice surprise coming from him.  

You expect him to start the conversation. However, he doesn’t speak. He sits smugly, manspreading, elbow placed on the chair’s armrest, head tilted sideways as he stares intently. 

“...Uh, good evening,” is all you manage to muster. “Why was that lady expecting me?” 

“I already told you. I knew you’d be back,” he scoffs, grin on his face. You can’t decide whether to smack it off or kiss it away. “Even then, I must say you’ve exceeded my expectations. I thought it’d be at least three or four days... You really haven’t changed.” 

You shrug awkwardly. “I can leave if you want...” 

“No. Stay right there.” His brows furrow, and a cold stare pins you down. As you involuntarily step back, he seems to relax, and his voice softens. “Please. We can dine together. My treat?” 

“...Fine.” 

He grins mischievously, “Good, ‘cause we already have a reservation! I told Manami to call the restaurant as soon as you arrived.” 

Cunning asshole... You can’t help the smile that blossoms on your face. He hasn’t changed that much. 

“Is it a fancy place? I have nothing to wear.” 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, dear. I already picked out something for you to wear.” He hums. You couldn't tell if he was being loving or condescending. 

“Listen, I... I wanna apologize for yesterday.” You scratch your neck. “Uhm, stuff happened, but I shouldn’t have left so suddenly.” 

His look pierces you, as calm as his composure is. He reads you like a book, and knowing you won’t say nothing more, he sighs. 

“It’s fine. I’m not mad.” He steps closer to you, and envelopes you in a warm embrace. One you gladly return. “You don’t know how much I’ve been yearning for you this entire time, [Name]. I know... I know I was the one who left, and I’m sorry. I didn’t even give you a chance, or a real explanation. I swear I’ll answer any of your questions tonight.” 

You take a breath in, smelling his clothes. Not even his scent had changed. Clean, soapy, always with a bit of a sandalwood hint. 

“Tonight? At dinner you mean?” you muster, putty in his hold. His chest vibrates with a low ‘mhm’. “Why not now?” 

He lets out a low chuckle, “Because now that we’re alone, sweetie...” his hands run down your body, settling on your waist. You slowly pull a bit away from him, as his stare turns hungry, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. The atmosphere takes a very drastic turn. “While I do have a client in around an hour, I thought we could finish what we started yesterday.” 

It’s like a switch has been turned on. Well, scratch that. You’re turned on now. That’s kind of pathetic. What is this, Pavlov’s bell? His touch means ‘get wet’? Well, shit. It works. Why do your thoughts rush so much? Are you really gonna get shy at this very moment? You were this close to having sex yesterday! Well, the alcohol did some numbers on you, but he clearly didn’t regret a thing and, well, truth be told, you could say the same. 

It wasn’t long before he made you kneel before him, saying he deserved a proper apology. You’d clicked your tongue, but obeyed anyway, taking him in your hand and slowly pumping him once. He was already hard in your grasp, and your hand motion pulled back his foreskin, which revealed an already leaking tip. His hand caressed your cheek, thumb pressing against your lower lip. When you silently took his finger into your mouth, he smiled smugly, pleased. It makes a popping sound when he pulls it out. 

“Are you going to be nice today?” you tease. 

“Who said you could talk?” he chastises, clicking his tongue. “Be a dear and open up for me. Just like that...” 

He grabs you by the hair gently, never one to tug on it. He places his tip near your lips, looking at you right in the eye, smug. He always did this, waiting for you to act like a dog with a bone and reach for his cock yourself. It was just another game to him, to relish in the position of power. Supporting yourself by gripping his thigh, you follow his lead and lick a stripe up his dick, from the base to the tip. He guides your head so that you take him all at once, and a pornographic moan of your name emerges from his throat. It’s good motivation, you think, pushing yourself further so he hits the back of your throat. Failing to suppress your gag reflex, you cough once as he slowly moves your head back a bit. Fuck, it’s been a while since your last blowjob. 

“I’m alright, Suguru,” you utter. “Don’t tell me you’ve softened up...” 

He chuckles, taking up on your challenge, his hold on your hair firmer, “Never.” 

His eyes crinkle with a satisfied smile when he forces you down his cock in one go. You whine around it, tears on the corners of your eyes, not once breaking eye contact. “Such a pretty fucking whore. Is this where you belong? Hm?” he purrs. You let him guide your head up and down his shaft, timing your breaths so you don’t choke again. “Ah...! I asked you a question, love. Or is your mouth too full to answer?” he taunts. 

It’s not long before he’s fucking your face passionately, hips twitching, balls hitting your chin, your nose right below his navel. And he whines. No growling or grunting like some others who repress themselves. Suguru was always noisy in bed, both vocally and in his rough but meticulous ways. You prayed that no one came near the door to hear you two. 

He pulls out suddenly. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I was getting close,” he responds simply, tugging on your arm to get you to stand up. Leaving a wet kiss on your lips, making sure to nip at your lower lip, he mutters a “Take your clothes off, will you?” as he completely removes his yukata, folding it as neatly as he can and leaving it on his desk. 

He admires from the bed, sitting in a manspread and pulled-down boxers as your hastily throw your t-shirt over your head and jump out of your jeans (to which he giggles a bit. Cock rock hard twitching when you roughly undo the clasp of your bra, he makes sure to slowly fist it, as if he could possibly lose his erection with such a wonderful sight in front of him. He taps his thigh twice, and you obediently straddle it. “Should I take my panties off?” you ask. “I fucking hate the word panties. It sounds so unserious.” 

He snorts. “Yeah, go ahead and take those ‘panties’ off.” 

“Piss off,” you huff at his mocking tone. He just smirks and watches you discard the last piece of clothing you had left. 

“You know what I want you to do. Right, sweetheart?” He takes your arm and pulls you back to your place on his thigh. You’re skin to skin now. He leaves quick pecks on your neck. “C’mon. Ride my thigh.” 

You move your hips a bit, wetness squelching underneath you. “Suguru...” you murmur. Your hands are on your shoulders, and so is your head, face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. He takes one of your hands and places it on his dick. “Motherfucker, making me do all the work,” you click your tongue. 

“Watch your mouth, darling,” he warns softly, “or there won’t be any work for you to do.” 

“S’that a threat?” you question. “You want this as much as I do.” 

“Clearly, I have more restraint,” he says. He’s mean without violence. He’s poison without sting. He’s taking your hip and gripping tight. “Who said you could stop? Get a move on or you won’t get fucked at all.” 

You whimper, moving faster. You can feel your wetness pooling beneath you, staining Suguru’s boxers. Your hand fists his cock, and you take the liberty to bite his shoulder gently. He hums in pleasure, slapping your ass once. 

“Good girl,” he praises. “You want it inside, don’t you? I can feel your clit throbbing. You’re so wet... Filthy slut. Bet you’re enjoying this. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” 

“A-am not,” you whine. “Fuck, Suguru, please—” 

“Stop using my name,” he grunts. He’s slick as well, your hand easily pumping up and down as he continuously leaked precum. “That’s not how you call me.” 

“...Sir,” you moan. “Sir, please take me already.” 

He flips you over in the blink of an eye, manhandling you on all fours, a hand restraining both of yours behind your back, the other pinning your neck down. You look up at him pleadingly through messy strands of hair over your eyes. Freeing your neck, he brushes them away from your face. 

“You’re still on birth control, aren’t you?” he asks. “I kind of forgot to ask yesterday.” 

“Yeah, I am. Just put it i— Oh!” the stretch makes you hiss. He waits for a few seconds until you relax again. He slowly but surely keeps going. “A-ah! Sir!” 

“Almost there, sweetheart— You’re tight, shit—” 

When he’s finally all the way in, you both sigh out in pain and pleasure. He gives you some seconds to relax before he starts moving, letting out some moans of your name as he did so. His pace hurried and you bit the pillow, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. He grabs a handful of your ass and fondles with it for a bit, before changing his course of action and lowering it to your sensitive clit instead. You left a loud gasp as he began rubbing it. 

“[Name], ah—” he lets out. “You’re squeezing me so tight, you whore,” he spat. “Dirty bitch.” 

Your voice is strained. “I’m yours, Sir, I-I'm all yours.” 

“That, you are,” he chuckles darkly, spanking you once as he speeds up his pace, thrusting harder into you. “You’ll always be. Mine to use. Mine to break.” 

He rubs your clit faster, relishing in your pretty noises. “M’close. S-sir, please.” 

“Awh, do you wanna get there, yeah?” he snickers. “You’re so pathetic. I’d be disgusted if I didn’t like you so much.” He speeds up his pace even more, letting go of your wrists to grab your waist, left hand still between your legs. “Beg for it, slut.” 

“Please, Sir, please... I’m s-so close! Please!” 

He whines loudly, and you feel his pace start to become irregular. “So am I, love,” he lets out. “Fuck, I missed being inside you,” he huffs. “Where do you want it?” 

“Inside,” you plead. He twitches. 

“Ah, yeah? Want my load inside you? Is this your kink coming back again, hm?” You nod furiously, not bothering to bite down on the pillow anymore as you scream ‘yes’ over and over. “Cum for me, pretty girl.” 

The coil inside you snaps as you cream all over him, moaning his name loudly. He follows some seconds later, thrusting one last time as he fills you up. 

For some seconds, there’s a deafening silence. He doesn’t waste a second as he slowly pulls out and fetches a towel. He massages your sore thighs as you lay there in silence, blissed. 

“While I’d love to stay,” he utters, cleaning you thoroughly. “I must go soon.” 

You give him a disappointed look, and he bends to give your cheek a soft kiss. 

“Whatever,” you murmur. 

“I’ll make it up to you tonight. All of it. I promise. I’ll pick you up at nine.” 

Sooner rather than later, you’re fully dressed and walking down the stairs of the temple, legs still a bit shaky. Suguru’s assistant had handed you a carefully wrapped package, which you assumed to be a dress. “For tonight. Master Geto picked it out himself.” 

“...Cool.” 

She’d blinked at you. It was so awkward. But even more awkward would be to explain everything to Keiko in non-sorcerer terms. And as you walked home, bag in your hand, lost in thought, you gulped at a sudden realization. 

...How could he be so sure of where to go get you, if you’d never told Suguru where you lived? 

i will burn in hell. :3

[liliputkalin]

#fucki t#i saw it around the evening but i thought that if i start tagging i would lose the time i needed to make the final assignments#its almost 2:30 am lets see

sorry for ruining your sleep <3/j hope it was worth it <33

#first of all DUDE SERIOUSLY?? ? ? ? YOU JUST WENT AND DREW TWO PICTURES BC YOU STRUGGLED WITH ONE ?? ? ? IDK HOW IT WORKS BUT YAAAAYYY !!!#CRYING WHAT THE FUCK#No i think the first one is my fav so lets start with the second#okay i looked closer at the second one and now im not so sure which i like more augh well nvm ! looking at these colors. theres probably so#some blending mode business is going on (which is socool theyre so difficult to me personally i can never make those work) all in all it#looks like postcard paper? or some yelowwed paper buut if blue color faded instead of red

Its called gradient maps and they are my best friends <3 I love using them when I cant come up with a pallete,,,, also used posterization a lot, it makes such funky textures!! and the colors that come out are soooo cool,,,

#my main focus is the wd (kelp cant keep track of names) and it has this one blue repeating throughout the whole thing + some purples + peac#+ thiss orangish grey?? it looks really orange in this context i dont even know what it is and Green. you could literally colorpick rainbow#from it . bro managed to sit his ass on it lets pray for his pants <3 DAMn colorwizardry again on his arms goddamn it ! ! AW HES SMILING#like his dreads here . tbh whenever i make a kelp sketch page (oka that happened at least two times) i try drawing him from the back just#just cuz im still not sure. but this looks legit mb ill use it as a ref lol ! using noxs drawing for the front and yours for the back lol#whose oc is that ToT also his hand is so cute here i cant <3 dying from this purpl#also thank you for giving him oversize goddamn hed actually like it a lot. like now thinking about it. in modern au hed need a hoodie#a hoodie 1.5 times bigger than him. and a tshirt with sleeves falling lower than his elbows... . i recently tried to figure out his adult#version design and im shifting my focus now. . . my idea was like sd-scaled almost-knight but no he needs to be a dementor with 14 layers#the wd is smiling <3 i like how you always make them so Long and so roller-coaster shaped theyre literally a крендель also the air perspect#perspective is peak it almost fades into sky color ! now thinking about it wds are perfect dragons for stuff like that cuz theyre so long

I actually wanted to make him come out of a cave or something but it just didnt work :( so flying under stones it was,, I glad I got the back view ok :33

#textre brus . . . OR WAIT NO ITS NOT THIS HATCHING IS MADE BY HAND 0_0 WOAHG.. . . idk something about this mountain thingie is#just so cool. this hatching is just right also i like how wds body ended up significantly lighter than it due to the air perspective. this#this may be the least intuitive composition desidion for me actually wait. so instead of making the mountain rly light you lightened the wd#you go girl this is fire . its like chessboard. does it make sense#anyway a little moment of appreciation for the green on the little mountain closer to camera bc 1. it is awesome 2. looking at your brain#under microscope. IT EVEN CONTINUES UNDERWATER GIRL HOW oh this is made w a texture brush i found it >:)#tho mb its all a texture brush just its so small i dont see </3#im running out of tags so just know im just sitting here zooming in and out

>:3333

#part two what do you mean ive been sitting here for an hour i need to wake at 7 . okey speeding up guys#аа кто такие фиксики большой большой секрет or idk what theyre trying to say w this hand gesture but they both look like theyre having fun

They'r saying hi <333

#no actually three of them look like theyre having fun and zhora looks like he knows hes the most strong and majestic creature on earth#like he took a biiiig breath and is about to make a super powerful wing flap#the way this wing is folded is honestly amazing zhora has never been this powerful and i reallllllly like the lil hatching under his wing#i generally like your hatching a loooot DAMN ON THE BELLY TOO LOOK GUYS#the crown (tubes?? ? idk what to call those i think those are a sort of receptors for chemicals and electricity) being purple here#is amazing. still love the 'thunderdrums are colored like tropical toads' hc ANd still havent researched the toads to choose smth for him#hes a chameleon you dont get it/j also wd is darkgreen + light green for the crown and zhora is orange with rather dark purple for the crow

I think they're supposed to be external gills in canon but i love your take on them as the tubes. they look so neat that way!!

#i just find it sweet. in actual plotline they dont interact a lot i believe i have like 1 little story for them and thats it#but i think aqu would find him cute :) i like their face here theyre joyful for once BUT IM already impatient to go for the first pic bc#bc its just amazing im dying from this compo !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!! and colors !!!!!!!! like its not as experimental as 2 but its ve#very readable. come on you know it is ! everything here serves composition dark lord and cunt#aqu is fucking amazing. and adorable. sorry i liked the backview more but iddkdidk it makes me feel feelings#almost. almsot makes me think about whatever their story is. they unlike kelp dont really have one bc theyre ME but maybe. maybe

👀🤲🤲🤲🤲 story? story of aqu???

#their purple is amazing and the way the vest is shaded w lasso is amazing and the pose is amazing and the sleeves are amazing#waving their stupid little hand <3 kelp what are you saying their ass is Not Listening OH WAIT I GOT IT THEYRE COMMUNICATING THROUGH#HAND GESTURES. I GOT IT I GOT IT !!! kelp yu lk need headphones too bc the second zhora opens his mouth youre having a panic attack#a man who gets flashbacks from loud dragon noises is forced to hang out with thunderdrums and screaming death(deathS >:)))) )#bc the life is unfair. aw his nosee !!!!!!!! hes so cute i cant im dying ! helmet tho. .. . . . OH MY FUCKING GOD WDS FACE.. 0_0#ITS GIVING... . I GENUINELY MEAN IT AS A COMPLIMENT PLS IT MAY SOUND WEIRD BUT ITS GIVING MOBILE GAMES LOADING SCREEN VIBES#LIKE ONE OF THOSE GAMES WHERE THE PLOT AND LORE IS EPIC AH BUT THE GAMEPLAY IS BORING SHIT THEY WOULD KILL FOR THIS FACE#THIS FACE ON THEIR LOADING SCREEN OR EVEN THEIR ICON TBH!!! idk i think its the reflection in the eye that got me#so wow. and the nosehorn is cool too this faceshape is generally peak#a little mwah to their wings theyre very volumous. AND ZHORA'S WINGS OMG THE SPOTS!!! ZHORA'S LEFT WING NHHH#thats so cool. same brush as the sky. the most random brush in the world why does it work so well#its here in the waves too ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#the waves........................................#the wavessssssssssssssssss.............................................#exciting piece

my reaction to all of that ^

btw the night pic was done on 90% lasso tool <3 i only used a scetter brush for stars <333 went a little insane honestly once i got the understanding for lasso tool...

@tanasha-not-yet

hey. its yo boisssssss!!!

[tedcicle]

swagger SDMP day 3 highlights

keef has been found!!!

- meowriza found him a bit below swagger’s house, stuck in a boat in the hillside. chat had heard meows in this area on swagger’s stream yesterday, which meowriza used to track keef down

- she was sitting with a skeleton boss that shoots explosions, meaning if anyone aggro’d the skeleton it would explode and immediately kill keef

- swagger and meowriza circumvented this by breaking the blocks above the skeleton and burning him to death, rescuing keef!

- swagger wanted to make a backpack, but needed rabbit hide to make it. he goes back into the twilight forest, looking for rabbits or the map maze focus for an uncrafter. he explores a bit of the minotaur labyrinth and gets the maze focus first

- he puts a postcard on the wall to remind him to kill mikasacus… the first sdmp hit?

[t8oo]

i have an inordinate amount of house md drawings

[thebrainrotsreal]

Drew this real quick because I fucking love these two so much ???? Especially Bee. I wish they interacted more so badly. PLEASE.

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[gallus-rising]

ok whatever. this isn't like a "callout" or whatever but i've thought really hard about this and given Prince has all but said my name i feel like i'm justified in at least letting my followers know about their shitty behavior

(note: last i knew Prince/Bucket they used he/she/they pronouns and asked people to continuously rotate so that’s what i'll be doing here)

about a year ago i was mutuals with @/fukit-im-bucket we weren't friends but we were friendly, ya know? then one day outta nowhere he blocked me and in the main fandom tags vagueposted about how he was soooo sad to learn a long time mutual was a secret proshipper and he felt soooo gross for ever having interacted with that disgusting person. the person who informed me of the post let me know she didn't publicly use my name but was DMing people who asked so like. i was kinda bitter about being maintag vagued and called a disgusting person, but i was thankful she didn't name me directly at least so i move on with my life

this May i start planning a rerun of Dimple Week. i announce it on the blog, i post prompts, and a few days after i posted prompts it occurred to me i could crosspost to my twt and bsky. since those sites run off hashtags i could just drop prompts and a tag for people to use and wouldn't have to run a dedicated account. i go on twt and start looking up the commonly used mp100/Dimple tags and because twitter's block function Doesn't Fucking Work i see a post from Prince announcing dates and prompts for an alt Dimple week created specifically because of me

i don't own the concept of "running a character themed prompt event" but this felt really shitty. organizing an identical event because my cooties are so bad people can't even stand that i like the same character as them. after this i did seriously consider not running Dimple Week because if my involvement was making people so uncomfortable what's even the point. i hate the idea of upsetting people just trying to have fun, but i decided that since Prince was running theirs in twt and insta and on different dates i'd just keep mine as is to Tumblr

and then, on the first day of Dimple week, i was sent this

there was literally no reason for this. no one was asking Prince why he wasn't doing Dimple week, he dropped this on the first day instead of any point before or after, and he's suddenly offering to host on on Tumblr as well as twt and insta. we all know how nebulous the term "proshipper" can be so not offering literally any details lets people fill in the blanks for what possible evil thing i could've done. i do not have a secret alt where i "endorse and create proship content" i'm very open about my ships and the sort of stuff i like to make (and in fact there are a handful of posts i've made that Prince would've had to have been actively ignoring my tags/artistic intent to not realize were ship posts) i don't force my ships onto anyone or try to secretly sneak them in to works/convos/events

Prince could've at any point DMed me to clear things up but instead she's vagued about me, made it sound like i'm a creep and a liar, and tried to ostracize me from the fandom for almost a year. i have not interacted with Prince in any why shape or form since she blocked me, but i'm so tired of putting up with her spreading rumors about me. again this isn't a callout, i'm not trying to get Prince canceled or whatever but their behavior is just childish at this point. block as you will and move on with your lives from this whole "this could've been a DM" situation like i'm just trying to do

every time i log onto twt.fuck i learn i've been blocked yet another mp100 fan/gimmick acct. and every time they are connected in some way to the person that fuckin main tag vagued me for Shipping Crimes. i could let everyone know you and all your friends have been telling people i'm a p*do for about 6 months now. i publicly make fun of the unbelievably petty thing you did recently because apparently i'm still on your mind. but i won't because i remain committed to being the bigger man. lmao

[analog-television]

the forecast calls for - an 100% chance of deltarune tomorrow !!!

higher res pic of the duo under cut

[plagueislost]

yes i spent $60 on a tim drake robin compendium. no i do not regret it. no further questions please.

[methoughtsphantom]

Jason “my family doesn’t know im alive” Todd and Danny “my family doesn’t know I’m dead” Fenton going alongside each of their plans my beloved. like Danny will absolutely go head-to-head with all of Gotham to support his new best friend on all his crime lord endeavors while he drags Jason to also attend collage with him. They are roommates and there never seems to a mention of family from either side. It’s an unspoken understanding they have. They met because Crime alley as a ghost lair thrummed with so much loneliness, it was at first the perfect place for Danny to hide his ecto signature in. But then he saw the dumbass whose lair it was lean his motorcycle just a tad too much when making a sharp turn to an alley, he sweeped the floor through a lifted chain link that passed his body but not his helmet. Yep that’s right the red thing got stuck. Danny who at the moment happened to be watching through his window snorted. Much to his horror because if not a ghost that dude could’ve gotten his head flung off.

Still, the scene was ridiculous.

On a whim he irrationally sees the police closing in on the guy and panicked at the thought of the guy using intangibility to free himself so Danny phased them both through his apartment wall and left the guy sprawled in his couch. Jason didn’t freak out but that’s normal when one’s got a concussion, one the guy immediately denied having as Danny laid out the medical supplies. The idiot proceeded to almost flatten four steps to the door with his stubbornness. He also said “I’m asexual” in the most deadpan voice as Danny dropped him back in the couch.

Danny sighed. Clearly though, he’d done so too early in the night because the guy kept trying to go, kept trying to knock Danny out, kept trying to slash him with knifes Danny didn’t know he had stashed. He’d only disarmed the guy from his guns. The visible ones apparently, cause at one point the guy did take out a gun and shoot until the ammo ran out and then teetered the thing like it was an art prop and hit his moon lamp.

Danny "yeah you aren’t officially my friend until you’ve tried to kill me" fenton my guys.

Anyways both keep having the same argument over if Danny technically kidnapped Jason or not. Danny holds the fact that the police at least didn’t see the guy make the ridicule. Jason argued that happened cause he was sporting a concussion. Danny argued he got that after.

Jason at first thinks the guy's a meta, but no. Danny introduces himself, sheepily now that he recognizes this is who the lair he invaded is from. He bandages him and tries to cook for him. If Danny didn’t have ice powers he most certainly would’ve burned the apartment. Jason then proceeds to kick him out of his own kitchen and make them both enchiladas. It’s the most normal both had in a while with another person and the air seems oddly settled. From then on, Jason constantly invited himself over, under the pretense that this was his territory and therefore he could drop in unannounced. Danny who has actual powers says he only allows this because Jason cooks very well.

Danny stays away from the crime fighting business unless his buddy is in deep shit he can’t get himself out. Also it’s Danny’s turn to cover for his vigilante friend which Sam and Tucker give him so much shit for. (but also advice)

And they were roommates. (omg) Danny effectively derails Jason’s big comeback plans by casually dropping ghost lore every two days. Like,

Jason, talking about how he doesn’t want Bats snooping on his territory:

Danny: Just don’t let them in

Jason: ??

Danny: yeah!! Hasn’t Batman died and got revived??? You can totally kick out death touched people you don’t want entering on your lair.

Jason: …I can?

Danny: Yep dude, your lair’s supposed to feel safe.

Jason: wait does that mean I can kick you out?

Danny: First this is my apartment. Second, im dead, not dead touched. Third, it’s too late to get rid of me. bitch.

Anyways Jason is super excited. You mean to tell him he can actually deny people over to his territory haunt?? (Yes it’s only to people who have died and came back but still!! The sample size is exactly the type of people he doesn’t want to see—!)

Joker my beloathed can’t step foot in Crime Alley.

(Jason’d feel a lot safer if the clown was dead but the possibility of his murderer turning into a ghost and their little loophole not applying on the clown is too scary to contemplate.)

Anyways, Jason loves experimenting with the power. It can go from simply making people shudder and not want to enter crime Alley to straight up not letting them enter like there’s an invisible wall blocking the way.

Jason because he’s hurt that Bruce never even patrols Crime Alley and also because he’s petty put B under the category of “invisible wall” blacklist. His reasoning is that the man doesn’t even attempt to enter Crime Alley. To him it’s surely just a place shadowed in tragedy. (anyways that’s it’s the place he met Jason)

Ironically, Jason totally forgets that Batman does venture into Crime Alley one day in the whole year. The day he met Jason.

Okay. He didn’t forget at first. The first year Jason remembers cause it was only a few months till then but then the next— Jason forgets that today’s the anniversary of the day’s Bruce’s parents died. He forgets to allow B in when he feels a slight tug and dismiss the feeling that prompts Bruce to investigate because he literally can’t enter Crime Alley. He starts the trialsTM, he scouts on the very edge and sees people the whole day enter and get out and cross with no problem but Bruce can’t.

It’s literally just Bruce.

Time to call Constantine, i guess.