nhoirr

[nhoirr]

𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖆𝖑𝖑

— 𝔖𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰

drabbles. “GOJO HOURS."

“LOVESICK LOVER — !” : When he's away from you.

GOJO SATORU is not a patient man, especially when he's kept long time away from you.

'I miss you,' 13:42

your phone dings with a message you've been anticipating all this while, all this afternoon you spent fidgeting in place; waiting for something, or well—someone.

'i'll come home soon.' 13:43

the message rings out from a sender that was no other than your lover—GOJO SATORU, who seems to have been impatient at work; he's been gone for less than an hour, though you couldn't blame him when you felt the same.

'I want to be with you." 13:43 — not even two seconds later, your phone gets bombarded with messages.

Often it would be like this when he's gone, busy with exorcising curses.. hours to days of no contact, to sudden barrages of messages come in endless downpour; you couldn't even begin to count how many times he'd say — 'I want to come home.' every time, and every moment he has.

its silly, how he makes the butterflies burst in your stomach. You wonder how he feels so near when he's so far—perhaps distance really does make the heart grow fonder.

'Hey, don't leave me on read!' 13:45

At his reminder, you can't help but imagine him saying this. Bickering about your imprudence to dare leave him on read, you quickly tap away at your phone.

—'take care of yourself,' wouldn't be much too cliche to say right..? should you be adding anything more? it felt like your message was too short, maybe you should throw in a—'ill wait for you.' too, in there.

.. okay maybe too much—you internally cringe at your own words, attempting to delete the message.

Though unfortunately, your finger slips to press send a bit too hastily, not even given a chance to delete the message when he's seen it in a heartbeat; you could only close your eyes and pray he wouldn't tease it out of you all day, he wouldn't let you live this down.

at long last—your phone dings and you couldn't help the curiosity, peeking reluctantly at what he had to say.

'I don't think I can wait.' 13:50

but you could guess he probably won't be able to come home tonight; he probably has a lot to finish, he wont be home anytime soon..

so.. that makes you wonder, during this time of night—just when you were about to close your eyes..

"who.." Theres sudden motion, noise of shuffling before the sheets slowly dip and you sink into the softness of the bed. Although your eye lips felt heavy, you peel open your eyes—the blurred figure of a man answers with his voice, "Are you asleep yet?" he—the familiar voice of a man you've been waiting for all day, whispers in your ear.

He hovers above you, leaning over so much that the bed creaks, "Don't sleep on me, sweetheart." he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, another one to your neck—till he littered your body, every inch of your skin his lips could find; his lips latches on to you, as if a leech.

and one last time, he presses a long kiss to the side of your lips—as if asking for you to wake up through your groggy state of mind.

"keep your pretty eyes open for me, will ya?"

through your hazy vision, you could make out that charming smile of his that you've engraved into your mind—the image of a man you love so dearly, your heart treasures so.

and you know he loves you too—just as much.

your phone dings with his last text you never got to read before he came home—

'I love you.' 24:59

your impatient lover probably couldn't wait another day to come home, not when you were waiting for him—not when he'd miss your welcome greeting, not when he still hadn't kissed you goodnight.

and god, that was all he could always think of when you're not in his moment of sight.

'I'm coming home.' 00:09

how unfortunate, that the moment you wake in the morning after, you would never get the chance to read this message.

©NHOIRR — DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE NOR PLAGIARIZE ANY OF MY WORKS!

[📨] — Yes I'm working on the series, but i've been thinking about this scenario for a while.. I had to get it out of my head somehow.

<-. come back to navigation?

[nhoirr]

I don't know why but when he said he sampled the water of Qiaoying Village I just imagined him lapping it up on all fours when no one was looking so I doodled this up 💀💀

[nhoirr]

[nhoirr]

BEAST!AU

scans by @slugtranslation-bsd

[nhoirr]

Running your fingers through a fresh undercut is godly and you just know mans keeps it neat on the regular 🤤

[nhoirr]

Saw this tweet on twitter and 💡💡💡

Update: I wrote it 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️ you can read it here

[nhoirr]

[nhoirr]

𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖆𝖑𝖑

— 𝔖𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰

drabbles. “GOJO HOURS."

“LOVESICK LOVER — !” : When he's away from you.

GOJO SATORU is not a patient man, especially when he's kept long time away from you.

'I miss you,' 13:42

your phone dings with a message you've been anticipating all this while, all this afternoon you spent fidgeting in place; waiting for something, or well—someone.

'i'll come home soon.' 13:43

the message rings out from a sender that was no other than your lover—GOJO SATORU, who seems to have been impatient at work; he's been gone for less than an hour, though you couldn't blame him when you felt the same.

'I want to be with you." 13:43 — not even two seconds later, your phone gets bombarded with messages.

Often it would be like this when he's gone, busy with exorcising curses.. hours to days of no contact, to sudden barrages of messages come in endless downpour; you couldn't even begin to count how many times he'd say — 'I want to come home.' every time, and every moment he has.

its silly, how he makes the butterflies burst in your stomach. You wonder how he feels so near when he's so far—perhaps distance really does make the heart grow fonder.

'Hey, don't leave me on read!' 13:45

At his reminder, you can't help but imagine him saying this. Bickering about your imprudence to dare leave him on read, you quickly tap away at your phone.

—'take care of yourself,' wouldn't be much too cliche to say right..? should you be adding anything more? it felt like your message was too short, maybe you should throw in a—'ill wait for you.' too, in there.

.. okay maybe too much—you internally cringe at your own words, attempting to delete the message.

Though unfortunately, your finger slips to press send a bit too hastily, not even given a chance to delete the message when he's seen it in a heartbeat; you could only close your eyes and pray he wouldn't tease it out of you all day, he wouldn't let you live this down.

at long last—your phone dings and you couldn't help the curiosity, peeking reluctantly at what he had to say.

'I don't think I can wait.' 13:50

but you could guess he probably won't be able to come home tonight; he probably has a lot to finish, he wont be home anytime soon..

so.. that makes you wonder, during this time of night—just when you were about to close your eyes..

"who.." Theres sudden motion, noise of shuffling before the sheets slowly dip and you sink into the softness of the bed. Although your eye lips felt heavy, you peel open your eyes—the blurred figure of a man answers with his voice, "Are you asleep yet?" he—the familiar voice of a man you've been waiting for all day, whispers in your ear.

He hovers above you, leaning over so much that the bed creaks, "Don't sleep on me, sweetheart." he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, another one to your neck—till he littered your body, every inch of your skin his lips could find; his lips latches on to you, as if a leech.

and one last time, he presses a long kiss to the side of your lips—as if asking for you to wake up through your groggy state of mind.

"keep your pretty eyes open for me, will ya?"

through your hazy vision, you could make out that charming smile of his that you've engraved into your mind—the image of a man you love so dearly, your heart treasures so.

and you know he loves you too—just as much.

your phone dings with his last text you never got to read before he came home—

'I love you.' 24:59

your impatient lover probably couldn't wait another day to come home, not when you were waiting for him—not when he'd miss your welcome greeting, not when he still hadn't kissed you goodnight.

and god, that was all he could always think of when you're not in his moment of sight.

'I'm coming home.' 00:09

how unfortunate, that the moment you wake in the morning after, you would never get the chance to read this message.

©NHOIRR — DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE NOR PLAGIARIZE ANY OF MY WORKS!

[📨] — Yes I'm working on the series, but i've been thinking about this scenario for a while.. I had to get it out of my head somehow.

<-. come back to navigation?

[nhoirr]

gojo and geto relationship gets me crying at 3am everytime

jjk. suguru geto x reader | sleeping hours : drabbles

FROM THE WALL — SUGURU HOURS

“WAKE UP CALL” written by nhoirr

Within this cursed world, once one is too curious stops for a moment of breath—the world will never stop for you.

At the moment you become separated from the time, the passing days of the world where the cruel reality dawns—the realization comes that you are.. alone.

.. What if, you talked to geto before he went down the rabbit hole?

#.angst, #.reverse-comfort, #.hidden-inventory-arc!geto,

HOW COLD IT WAS—this lonely night, where only the echoes of the pouring rain meeting the pavement floors filled the stillness of the setting sun, the moment where everyone laid rest.

A time of night where one would set their swords down for the night, to rest for another morning routine to come—duty of a jujutsu sorcerer meant all time was precious for rest.

SO IT BEGS THE QUESTION, that upon this opportune time that were few and far between—why was there now a figure welcoming the relentless downpour of the rain?

If you squint your eyes enough, you'd spot the familiar locks of the famous man—as well as a close colleague of yours; well, if you don't mention the minor feelings you've been blooming all this while.

The man—SUGURU GETO, was far too lost in the rain, perhaps something more eerie; sinister if you dare say, it begs the question lurking in your mind, telling you to pull him away before he drowns.

"Suguru?" — and to the voice came like a salvation to the man, you who sheltered him from the falling rain; did he finally come back to reality, pulled away from the thoughts that plagued his mind to near insanity.

He snaps his head up to look at you, though his vision blurred as his cloudy mind, he opens his mouth to speak, ".. you're still awake?"

There was another pause, soundlessness of the rain yet a million words hanged a million questions, forever unanswered.

"I should be the one asking that," you tilt your head to give a lopsided smile, one he can't help but reciprocate although not the same; the lack of light in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed by you—call you nosy, but you couldn't help to question it, ".. whats with the long face?"

Seems the question shatters whatever was left of his facade, his smile dropping in an instant.

"what gave it away?" he laughs that held no weight, almost a scoff if you hadn't known any better.

"Your eyes," carefully, you take a step down the stone stairs, finding a place safe enough to sit down. once you do, you speak again with a nod, "So, are you going to tell me?"

Instead of a smile you were poking at him for, it never formed. Instead there remained a silence that stretched on for eternity, silence far from peaceful, the lack of words spoke louder than any you could think of.

"It's tiring," he sighs out the words, beginning to massage his temples as if just thinking about it already made his head hurt.

"what is?"

he drops his hand, glancing at you from the corner of his eye yet hesitates at his own words. As if conflicted with the problem that was him, himself.

"This world," he finally finds the words to speak, emotions spilling from each and every word he'd utter—"you don't think-"

"it's frustrating?" you speak before him, yet he doesn't give even a sound for an answer. You guess he wouldn't speak any further, so you speak again, "isn't it so confusing, so easy to get lost.."

Though ends as a futile attempt, the man kept his lips glued shut, ".. but what can we do? the world won't stop for us moping around, duty calls." sighing in defeat, you move to stand up, with all these negative thoughts, you think sleep would be an optimal solution. So you give one glance back to the silent man, ".. I think it'd be best to rest your mind for the nigh—"

"This damned world," he mutters under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear. perhaps its the worry, or you being too naive to know whats best for your own, you sat down again—peeking at the man beside you, this time, not saying a word.

Perhaps its the silence, the presence of another lending an ear out; does he finally say his mind.

"what is there left to protect?" — a philosophical question, one that even made you rack your brains out to think—for even a teen like you, never did you think of such a thing; so how could you have the answer? no matter how much you wished to answer his question.

who was it, you needed to protect?

"The weak," he—for once, chuckles; one thats deep, reverberating in your ears in an uncomfortable way that almost feels like mock.

".. that's an answer I would've given," his voice is hoarse, dry—not a hint of humor, tone was as sharp as a knife, perhaps enough to even cut at the raindrops or the coldness of the night.

You pause, speaking without thinking, "Do you not?" and the question speaks to his soul, echoing deep within the depths of his depraved mind—does he?

"Theres a line i've been treading," his unkept hair now dry and messy after the rain, bangs once framed his face now covered to hinder your view. ".. its been on my mind."

For you both, the answer lied with neither of you. And you knew it would stay like that for a while, for teens far too young for any of this.. how could you ever answer a question when you've only seen half of the world?

A teen.. an enjoyable part of youth—was the ignorance, "Then.. protect me," if you'd ever answer his question, it would be biased, wrong and..

it was what your heart told you so, just because you were young; couldn't you afford to be atleast naive?

".. you?" he repeats your words, finally he turns his head from the pavement floor to meet your gaze.

"If.." you start to say, stumbling with your words—these situations were never your forte, and neither was speaking your mind; well, your heart. "If you can't find anyone to protect, then .." boldly outreaching your hand, hovering over his clasped hands firmly shut, but with the gentle warmth of your fingers meeting with his cold hands—it eases enough for you to slip in, fingers slowly intertwine, "protect me."

Suguru finds himself staring at you, the twinkle in your eyes he swears he'd fight the world to protect.

"Atleast.. until you find another reason to," a bashful smile plays on your face, somehow tugging at his heart and he doesn't know when his eyes started to mirror yours.

Just.. why were you giving him hope? to what cause..

"That is-" theres that smile that graces your lips that his eyes longed for—the spark of radiant innocence shining down upon him, one he treasured with all his being. "Protect me, satoru, and.. those close to you."

slowly you move closer, and he lets you.

"Protect what you can," somehow, from what was left of himself you find something—a shred of warmth that remained in his heart, one that longed to hope in the face of despair.

"protect what matters to you, before you lose them to a decision you're not sure of." your words saw the world for what you could see, yet somehow spoke to the world as it was—to him, the naivety you held was what made you wiser; more than him, he'd even say.

So when your hand caress his cheek, when your shaking hand held his sleeve where once umbrella–now discarded in the pouring rain. "Life is not black and white, there is no line to be wary of, Suguru. So don't let the imaginary line tell you what to do, especially when it burdens you this much."

BUT EVEN AFTER THE DRAUGHT, to the relentless rain.. if he'd keep moving forward, perhaps there was still hope; maybe after the rain, there would be sprout—there would be the welcoming light of the sun, and no more rain.

That day, that night—SUGURU GETO TOOK YOUR WORDS, since then the promise was what kept him afloat all these years.

Yet still bounded, eternally wishing every night for his reason, his heart—you, to stay for a long while.

©nhoirr — DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE NOR PLAGIARIZE ANY OF MY WORKS!

feel free to support an author by reblogging!

[📨] — I love geto so much,, itsniteven fudny I understand you annon, thank you for sending me this message.. I suddenly got a burst of motivation totally unrelated to the topic, but the scene of geto with yuki will forever plague my mind....

<- M-list !

[nhoirr]

[nhoirr]

''The little things matter''

The little things are usually not noticed or even not understood, that's why they are special.

A polaroid camera. Ango always has an old camera nearby and in all the photos you are, gracefully engraved in that paper like a memory - something that since his birth he can never escape but escape from the memories he spent with the love of his life? No way. Taking photos means keeping memories, sensations, feelings, and for him that's literally it.

The ring as a pendant on his necklace. For a man like Fukuzawa who values traditions, the wedding ring is one of them, keeping it on his finger without fear, without regret, but there is only one situation in which he forces himself to take it off - when he draws his katana. There, blood symbolizes nothing more than death and bathing something so precious in it is like a curse.

Your name on the bandages. The dozens of scars on his body tell the story of the search for death, a search that Dazai has been doing for years, a natural thing for those who have suffered so much - although worse than the pain of the cut, is the pain of being seen cutting himself. Your name on the bandages was an attempt he created to hold back himself and not see you cry again.

The pin hidden in his uniform. To compensate for his blindness, Jouno has his other senses come first, especially using his sense of smell and hearing in the missions he is given - but what about touch? Being vulnerable to sudden changes in the environment, Jouno gets stressed easily and the only thing that comforts him are the embossments on the pin that you swore Jouno had lost.

Sorry for the sudden disappearance! My vacation is unfortunately over, now I have less time to write, but I still trying, XOXO

[nhoirr]

buddy daddies ✧ the duality of suwa rei

[nhoirr]

Honkai: Star rail | Meeting with Aventurine again

[nhoirr]

morning..

[nhoirr]

◜ Round blurry-ish dividers ˀˀ ﹔ self-indulgent ﹙ && ﹚rblg/like if used

[nhoirr]

Some Advice To Amateur Writer’s:

Your first draft is going to read like fanfiction, and that is a good thing. Fanfiction is written episodically, as is the first draft, with only small bits and pieces being actually thought out and making sense. You need the plot to take protag here? You don’t know how to get them there? Make up a bullshit reason and then figure it out later. Your first draft is for having fun, getting your big ideas on the page, figuring out certain plot points, and developing the characters more. Your first draft is going to be self-indulgent, it’s going to make very little sense, it’s going to be just a little bit shit. That’s what the first draft is for!

The second draft is for adding and removing things so that the story actually starts to make sense. And when I say second draft, I mean create a whole new document. No copy and pasting, it needs to feel natural. Maybe you’ve had some ideas and want to change how it starts, maybe you realised you never explained a certain important detail, maybe a certain scene just feels really out of place. Your second draft is for adding and subtracting from you first draft so that it actually starts making sense. You already know how the story ends by this point, you already know what plot twists you’re going to include, so now you can integrate them more smoothly and include more foreshadowing. Maybe you’ll create whole new characters and remove whole other characters. Maybe the relationship between two characters changes drastically. That’s fine. Your second draft is when it starts coming together.

Your third draft is for fine-tuning. You’ve got your initial plan, you’ve got your more thoroughly thought out plan, and no you need to make it better. Maybe there was a certain scene you really miss from the first draft, maybe you want to make the chapter transitions smoother. Maybe you want to lengthen the chapters so that the amount of chapters is smaller and it seems more manageable. The third draft is for making all of these important changes to have it be the best that it can be. You did more research into a certain disorder so you’ve altered a character slightly. You decided there weren’t enough POC so you changed a few races. You decided there were too many bisexuals so you switched some of them to pan or omni or ace. The third draft is for making some of these final changes.

You can continue making other drafts if you’re still not happy with it, but after a certain point the idea may just need to left behind and put on hold. Fresh eyes from a few weeks or months or years into the future may figure out how to make it make sense. You also don’t have to wait to finish one draft to start the next. You want to change how the story begins but you’ve almost completed the first draft and you don’t want to make all those edits? Just start the second draft! Write your idea down and then go back to your first draft. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that!

So, if you’re getting into writing and you look through your first draft thinking “this makes no sense, it reads like self-indulgent fanfiction” that’s a good thing. It’s all part of the process. And if by the third draft it still feels really self-indulgent, brilliant! You are writing this story because you think it’s interesting and you want to tell it! Who cares if it’s self-indulgent!? Who cares if it’s got a lot of tropes!? By the third draft you will have smoothed it all out and it will be a masterpiece! Keep writing!

[nhoirr]

HE GREW HIS BANGS OUT