oporotheca

[oporotheca]

[oporotheca]

ty emi for the tag!! <3

i'm absurdly late to this so at the risk of accidentally tagging people who have already participated please feel free to take this as an opportunity to contribute if you'd like!!

thank you for the tag @taintandviolent lizzie ml mwah

list 5 of your favourite films in a poll and have people vote for their favourite!

no pressure : @lily-bisque @caffine-exe @dearlizzies @sugurusladyknightt @nanamisbbygirl @kunawned @strawb3rrystar @ldydeath @s33th1ngg + literally everyone

[oporotheca]

Sorry for falling off the face of the earth for a bit! I got an assistant librarian position and a new apartment so I was a busy lady lol

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Are you atheist?

this ask has been making me giggle for weeks now.

am i going to answer this question? no, because i hardly see how it's relevant, but please know that whoever sent this in, i am deeply confused and immensely amused by it.

[oporotheca]

Thank you for the tag, Blue! ♡

No pressure tags: @letteremi @lafleurperdue @goonforgeto @madamechrissy @indiewritesxoxo @junos-chronicles + anyone else who wants to join!! ♡

Tag chain idea because i'm curious:

Make your OC with this picrew and answer this quiz in character to see what cursed compliment they'd receive!

Here's two of mine:

If you don't have OCs, just be yourself :)

No pressure, tagging @encryptidarchivist @critterofthenight @mossy-stormcloud @intrinsically-inclined @ye-olde-tardis @cecilsrandomeverything @burke-juliet @awfullyqueerwriter @hauntedcoyote @raccoons-under-a-trenchcoat @bat-luun @forflightlessbirds @moon-the-delusional @watchers-tea @angsty-worm @no-tengo-ojos @buried-in-the-archives @field-cryptobotanist @moonsanoverthinker @real-fragments @oxthemoron @indelible-waltz @humanteethmarksonhumanbone @lighthouseshepard @thesaltyblobfish @alvin-draper @icarusthriving @skyeoak and anyone else that feels like joining in!

[oporotheca]

just got called to schedule an interview for a local high school’s assistant librarian position this coming week and i am, in fact, psyched!!!

[oporotheca]

thank you @letteremi for the tag ♡

currently reading: what moves the dead by t. kingfisher last song: xxx by kendrick lamar last film: the last unicorn (my faveeee) last series: soul eater sweet/savory/salty: savory tea or coffee: tea!! working on: far too many fics and some inspo boards + playlists for my aus :)

no pressure tags!! - @junos-chronicles @designerpvssy @meanderingwistera @edensrose @nanamisbbygirl + anyone else who would like to join (i am being bullied by this head cold rn so sorry for only being able to think up a few tags off the top of my head!) ♡

— TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW MORE ! thank youuu @fayerie and @lily-bisque for the tags <33

currently reading: (re)reading yellowface by r.f kuang last song: still into you by paramore (great for playing val let me tell uuuu) last film: how to train your dragon last series: true beauty (ep 11 now) sweet/savory/salty: savoury tea or coffee: tea working on: fics (oh boy) + healthy sleep schedule

no pressure tags! <3 - @oporotheca @riveredmoon @elswhore @goonforgeto @lafleurperdue and anyone else who wants to do it !!

[oporotheca]

coming to your inbox to plead for grim reaper!geto because that actually sounds like the yummiest fic ever and I can’t believe he lost that poll

Asdffghyjd PLEASE your use of that image is frying me 😭 literally me trying to convince people that grim reaper geto is worth their vote tbh.

But never fear!! I am in love with my grim reaper geto draft and will absolutely keep working on it even if it continues to lose interest polls until the end of time itself. He and his reader are just so perfect for each other and I refuse to never let them see the light of day 😤

THAT SAID, you did just renew my excitement for the fic tenfold so I will definitely be trying to get a preview of some sort up soon! <3

[oporotheca]

what’s the difference between the soul eater manga vs anime?

Good question!

The anime followed the manga until I believe around chapter 36, at which point it sort of did its own thing because the source material (manga) wasn't actually completed yet.

That said, the main change that would have an impact on the Soul Eater AU I'm working on has to do with the consumption of souls, as this differs between adaptations.

In the manga, a Demon Weapon can only become a Death Scythe by consuming 99 evil human souls and one witch's soul. These evil humans are specifically chosen by Death himself and placed on an approved target list, meaning Meisters and their Weapons are only allowed to hunt those who meet certain moral and regulatory criteria. Additionally, only Demon Weapons are capable of consuming souls in the manga.

The anime, however, introduces a different system entirely. Instead of evil human souls, the requirement becomes 99 Kishin Eggs and one witch’s soul. Kishin Eggs are individuals whose souls have been corrupted by committing heinous acts. In this version, Meisters and Weapons use a technique called Soul Perception to track down these dangerous souls. Notably, the anime also shows non-Weapon characters consuming souls, which doesn’t happen in the manga.

Meanwhile, in the manga, a true Kishin is created when a Demon Weapon consumes too many pure (innocent) souls - a concept that ties more closely to the series' themes of balance and corruption. The whole idea of Kishin Eggs doesn’t exist there at all.

I hope that clears things up a bit, but if not feel free to drop any other questions about Soul Eater, this AU, or whatever else in my inbox! <3

[oporotheca]

Okay my loves, after getting so much feedback about my soul eater au ideas last night (see here) I started thinking about whether a soul eater anime au or a soul eater manga au would be better, soooo...

[oporotheca]

Seeing all this talk about restaurant aus lately is making me giggle because I’ve been wanting to channel my former hostess energy into a hostess!reader x coworker(s) au for a while and I just know that I’ll be running back to my draft document about it after reading even a single paragraph about Satoru Gojo in a server uniform…

[oporotheca]

I love soul eater 🥹

Seeing this in my inbox made me so happy because YES NONNIE ME TOOOO!!!

If my silly little soul eater concept post taught me anything it’s that there are way more fans than I realized and I should start drafting asap 😌💗

[oporotheca]

bite-sized revenge

gojo satoru  x fem!reader — it's in his DNA to be a menace, so can Gojo really be mad that his toddler inherited that from him? 

warnings/tags: established relationship, domestic fluff, gojo and his baby girl, just fluffyyyyyy (not proofread, sorry if there are any typos or etc xx)

Gojo Satoru is fatally, insanely, completely head over heels for you. 

To this day, he maintains that. He’ll tell everybody of the joys of knowing you — and no, he’s not being sarcastic when he says that. 

Though, if there was one thing he could almost cry about, it would be this. 

See, if there’s one thing Gojo Satoru loves to do, it’s to tease his two girls. And that’s exactly what he’s doing to the tinier one, the mini you x him, this morning. 

“Here comes the choo choo train.” Satoru guides the sweet potato closer, and her cute little babbles fill the air. It seems like his little munchkin inherited his sweet tooth. And just as the delightful dollop reaches his sweet girl, he pulls the spoon back with a grin. 

“Dada!” She crosses her chubby arms (and briefly, he thinks she looks like the Michelin man, and his grin grows bigger), eye twitching and face in a pout that screams ‘i’ll remember this betrayal’. 

“Satoru,” you chide, and he turns to face you. You’re leaning on the kitchen counter, arms crossed just like your daughter. Sunlight streams in through the adjacent open window, lighting the edges of your hair with that ethereal glow that makes his head explode and his heart ache. “That choo choo train is going to derail.” 

“I’m an excellent driver, thank you,” he replies, readjusting his grip on the spoon like it’ll prove his point, and if you ask him, it does. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, here…” Satoru glides the spoon through the air again, and just like that, your daughter is giggling and clapping her hands again.

So sweet, so trusting, that Satoru almost regrets his next move. 

At the last second, he yanks the spoon away again, and this time, he’s dodging tiny fists like his life depends on it.

He can’t help it, he only laughs louder — loud, belly-aching, cheek-pulling, laughter that infects you too, as you giggle behind your hand.

When he takes a peek at your darling daughter once again, it’s like rage is bubbling through her — well, all the rage someone of her size can muster. 

“Satoru.” 

But his name didn’t come from you. It’s grumbled out by the tiny cherub in front of him, and the colour drains from his face as Satoru’s heart falls to the floor. 

His laughter cuts off — replaced by frantic attempts to placate his rascal, arms held up like in surrender — but yours only grows. And it seems like your approval, and his dismay, fuels the little gremlin, because she opens her mouth again — no doubt to spout that horrific name again. 

“No, no,” he coos, desperate now. “Sweetheart, I’m dada. Dad. Papa. Father.” He wrinkles his nose at the last one. “Actually angel, don’t say father. It’s too serious.” 

Your baby girl turns her nose up at him, clearly not amused, and Satoru busies himself with scooping a heapful on the spoon — his apology. “Here, for real this time, eat up..”

She turns her cheek again — because fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice… — and the mashed sweet potato smears all over her cheek like an accidental streak of paint. 

And for the second time this morning, Satoru has to stifle his laughter, slapping a hand over his mouth as laughter threatens to escape. But your daughter, oh your sweet daughter, she’s glaring at him with an anger strong enough to buckle his knees. 

“Gojo.” It’s like the last name comes out in slow motion — choppy, lower, said with defiance and with the intention to reprimand her dad so badly he will never try her again. 

And worse yet, she’s not just angry, she’s disappointed. Those big blue eyes (and for the thousandth time this week, Satoru understands how others feel when he looks at them), shining with gleeful revenge. “Oh, Gojo.” She shakes her head side to side with a pout that could bring nations crumbling down with the sheer of disapproval. 

Gojo? 

“You’re Gojo too!” And now he’s the one pouting, caught up in a fight with a toddler that both of them know that she’ll win. Satoru whips his head in your direction — you’re in hysterics now — accusation in his stare, and a silent plea for help.

And you know him, you know him, so he knows that you’re ignoring his cries for assistance in favour of holding yourself up by the bench. 

Betrayed by his two favourite people in one day. 

Satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, slumping in his chair at being struck by this final blow. Your daughter huffs, victorious, her tiny fists pumping into the air in her high chair, like a tiny general who’s just conquered an empire. And Satoru doesn’t even have time to claim the triumph that she picked up that emote from him. 

And suddenly, you swoop in like an angel from the sidelines, finally having caught your breath on the sidelines. Stepping forward, you take the spoon from his limp hand and gently scoop up the sweet potato. 

“Here, sweetheart,” you coo, smelling something sweet that he can’t name (maybe it’s just you), that he wants to eat up all the same.

Your dear daughter accepts the spoonful without hesitation, though, she makes a point to side eye her defeated dad when she does. And then, her little pout melts into a satisfied smile, as she munches happily. 

Satoru watches her eat, deflated but completely smitten, and when he turns to you again, he finds you already looking at him — soft hair framing your face like the beautiful work of art he knows you are — with that knowing, star-filled gaze that always undoes him. 

“You’ll pay for this,” he warns weakly, pointing at you with an exaggerated menace. 

You just laugh again, and lean down to press a small, soft kiss to his forehead — and just like that, he’s forgiven you. “Good luck, Gojo.”

“You’re Gojo too,” he groans, though, his arms wrap about your waist, pulling you closer despite his wounded pride. 

And in that warm kitchen, sunlight pooling around all three of you, he realises he wouldn’t trade this — the chaos, the tiny betrayals, the teasing that only comes from unconditional love — for anything in the world. 

Not now. Not ever. 

© 2025 letteremi. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost my work to any platforms 

[oporotheca]

Sitting in my room thinking way too hard about a JJK x Reader Soul Eater AU.

Like, imagine Weapon!Gojo and Meister!Reader, and then Meister!Suguru and Weapon!Reader and all the shenanigans everyone could get up to (I am obsessed with characterizing my readers and letting them interact in my fics if you can't tell by every single post I make about my ideas...).

And furthermore, what about Witch's son!Choso x Meister!Reader? Or even Meister!Shoko x Witch!Reader x Weapon!Utahime?!

Anyways, is this too niche?? Someone let me know because for some reason this concept won't leave my head 😭

[oporotheca]

Hey all! Just wanted to drop by and say sorry if im not as active in the coming days. My sweet 14 y/o dog who I’ve had since childhood isn’t doing very well lately, so I’m just spending as much time with him as I can.

So, if you’ve sent in an ask or otherwise interacted recently and I haven’t replied, please know that I absolutely will and that it is nowhere near personal.

Also, I’m happy to update that I’ve made progress on a whole slew of fics lately, including, ofc, dilf!Sukuna, so there may just be a preview up in the coming days!

Either way, ily all and I promise I’ll be back to posting your regularly scheduled nonsense soon.

(Side note: + if you have any to spare, feel free to send good vibes to my sweet Timber, who has selflessly spent years of his life listening to me type loud af on my keyboard while writing and never once barked to complain about it 😭 I love him with every little piece of my heart)

[oporotheca]

now THAT'S entertainment | part i g. suguru & g. satoru streamer au

ex!suguru x reader x ex's bf!satoru

summary: You’re doing fine. Really. Sure, your ex-boyfriend is dating the most obnoxious man you know. Sure, you still kind of hate him, but still might love him. Sure, you might also hate, and kind of want to kill, his boyfriend. And sure, you’re all forced to share the same stage, smile for the fans, and pretend everything is fine. It’s not like you're jealous. Or bitter. Or hopelessly stuck in the same cat-and-mouse game with Suguru where he won’t let you go, and you’re too stubborn to admit you don’t want him to. Not at all.

part i | more to come | posted on ao3 | m.list

you wake up late for Haibara’s stream party and run headfirst into two very familiar faces. w/c: 3.3k | a/n: this is a lil short chapter js to get the feel of everything, i'm hoping future chapters will be longer.

“GET YOUR ASS OUTTA BED!”

You jolt so hard you nearly end up falling off the bed.

There’s a crash as your phone skitters off the mattress and slaps face-down onto the floor. Your heart’s doing a drum solo in your ribs. Your mouth opens, but the only sound that comes out is a raspy gasp as your brain tries to reboot.

“Wha– Shoko?” You croak, shielding your eyes from the light as your door bangs against the wall with an unnecessary amount of force.

“Jesus, you look dead.” Shoko mutters as she steps over your abandoned hoodie and yesterday’s boba cup. She’s holding a can of redbull– probably one of yours that she picked out from the fridge. “I’ve seen corpses with more colour than you.”

“I was dead.” You groan, faceplanting into your pillow. “Until you resurrected me.”

“No girl, it’s five.” She says, popping the tab. You flinch at the sound. “As in p.m. As in you’ve been unconscious for twelve hours, and people are literally already arriving.”

That makes you crack one eye open. “Five… five in the afternoon?” You squint at the window. The sunlight is obnoxiously golden and unnecessarily cheerful. You wince, huffing. “Ah shit.”

“Exactly.” Shoko takes a sip, then grimaces. “Why the hell do you drink this?”

“Go away.” You throw your arm over your face. “I streamed until like, six A.M. I was doing Just Chatting and then Yuta peer pressured me into Valorant and I couldn’t back out.”

“Did you at least win a match?”

“Nope.”

“Tragic.”

You let out a sound that could generously be called a whimper.

“You promised you’d help me set up for Haibara’s stream, remember?” Shoko says, completely ignoring your dramatic flop. “We need to get it done before the games start. Yuki even bought those LED strips you wanted. And Utahime’s already losing her mind because the mic pack won’t stop buzzing.”

“Then she should stop it from buzzing.” You mumble into your pillow.

Shoko grabs the corner of your comforter and yanks.

You let out an inhuman screech.

“Five more minutes.” You beg, clutching the remaining covers to your chest like a war survivor.

“No minutes. You need to shower, put on clothes that don’t smell like last week’s leftovers, and maybe try not to look like you haven’t seen sunlight since the pandemic.”

“You are literally a medical student.” You say, blinking blearily up at her. “Shouldn’t you be worried about my circadian rhythm?”

“I am. That’s why I’m waking you up at the worst possible time to make sure your body hates you. Now come on. Haibara finally hit 500k. We’re gonna be on stream with half the Twitch Jujutsu side of the internet.”

You groan and roll over again, dragging your blanket with you. Shoko just sighs, walks over, and dumps her freezing cold drink down the back of your shirt.

“FUCK!” You shout, flying out of bed like you’ve been tasered.

“That’s what I thought.” She says sweetly, stepping back as you flail. “See you downstairs in a bit.”

And then she’s gone before you can throw something at her, door swinging shut behind her. You’re left dripping, traumatised, and already regretting every life decision that brought you here.

But also, you guess it is Haibara’s big day. God, it felt like just yesterday that he was a nervous kid starting his first ever live-stream, fumbling through intros with shaky hands. He’s worked hard for this, and he was always there for you. So the least you could do was be there for sweet, sunny Haibara too.

You rub at your eyes and trudge towards the bathroom, making your way to look at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is doing… something. Defying physics, mostly. There’s a stubborn cowlick sticking straight up at the back of your head like a devil’s horn, and your under-eyes are so puffy you could probably float in a body of water for safety.

You splash water on your face and immediately regret it, because your hoodie sleeve, which you forgot to take off, soaks straight through. Wet cotton slaps cold against your wrist. You curse under your breath.

“Okay.” You mumble to yourself, dragging a hand down your face. “Operation: Don’t Look Like Trash.”

You peel off your oversized hoodie with the kind of sluggish movements reserved for hangovers and heartbreaks and toss it in the vague direction of the laundry basket. You miss. You don’t correct it.

Shoko was right about one thing. You do smell a little like stale food and sour bed sweat.

You wait for the water to warm up before stepping in, the hot water stinging a little when you stand underneath, but it’s a good sting. Wakes you up a little more. You lean your head against the tiled wall and let the steam fog up the glass, the bathroom, your brain. It’s the first moment of peace you’ve had all day – and you’ve only been awake for ten minutes.

You try not to think about how much caffeine you’re going to need to survive the evening. Or how many people are going to be watching. Or how the last time that many people tuned in, you were drunk off your ass trying to speedrun Bloodbourne with your eyes closed.

And you try not to think about him.

There is no reason to. You and Suguru haven’t been together for almost half a year, which is more than enough to pretend what happened between the two of you never existed. And he has a boyfriend now, so you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about him anymore.

Except you do. When you’re drunk. Or when you’re horny.

Or bored.

Or when someone walks past you wearing his cologne.

Or when your Spotify shuffle lands on that stupid song he liked to play while he hummed along.

But besides that? You’re fine. You crank the water hotter, like you can scald the thoughts out of your head.

After your quick shower, you’re back in your room with a towel around your hair and a skincare routine you half-assed but still deserve an award for. You dig through your closet for something decent. Nothing too try-hard, but still flattering.

You settle on a cropped graphic tee that shows just a sliver of midriff, paired with your usual high-waisted cargo pants. You swipe a thumb across the printed logo to clean off the dust. It’s an old tee you got free from some booth three years ago, but it still hits. People in chat always go feral for vintage drip.

“God bless manufactured nostalgia.” You mutter, pulling it over your head.

Makeup is next. You sit cross-legged on your chair, mirror propped on the desk, and go through the motions like muscle memory, concealer under the eyes, a little powder, a dab of blush on the nose and cheeks, eyeliner only if you’re feeling brave. Which, tonight, you’re not (not a surprise). You throw on some mascara and call it a day.

You twist open your favourite lip tint, swipe it on, smack your lips together, and admire your handiwork. It’s not full glam, but you look more alive. And kinda cute if you were being honest.

The cowlick is still there, though. You glare at it and spend another ten minutes wrestling it with a hair straightener and win the battle.

There’s a knock at your door, soft but rapid.

“I’m naked!” You call out, just to stall for time.

“I know you’re lying!” Utahime says from the other side. “I’m just letting you know your ring light’s still downstairs from yesterday. And also, there’s like three people already in the kitchen asking where you are.”

“Who?” You shout back.

But she’s already walking away. You cuss her out under your breath for leaving you on a cliffhanger.

You spritz some setting spray and grab your phone from the floor, blinking against the flood of notifications. Group chats. Discord pings. Instagram mentions. There was no way you were going to check all of them right now. Instead, you switch off your phone and toss it onto the bed.

With one final glance at the mirror, you swing open your bedroom door and step out into the hall, instantly greeted by the distant chatter drifting from downstairs, the faint rumble of music vibrating through the floorboards.

You descend the stairs two steps at a time, fingers skimming the banister. Conversations overlap, laughter bursts sporadically, someone shouts about missing HDMI cables, and you can’t help but smile a little despite the lingering grogginess.

The kitchen, as always, seems to be the eye of storm, the only place that has some sort of peace. Utahime’s hunched at the island, frowning intensely at a pile of tangled cords and a mic pack, still buzzing, apparently. Shoko lounges against the counter, scrolling lazily through her phone, unbothered as usual.

“You finally dragged yourself downstairs?” Utahime remarks dryly, barely looking up. “The LED strips won’t put themselves up, you know.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hostility in it. “You do realise I was only brought back to life about thirty minutes ago, right?”

Shoko glances up, unimpressed. “You’re welcome.”

Before you can respond, a pair of warm arms suddenly wrap around you, hugging you from behind with a bright, almost aggressively cheerful voice. “You’re awake!”

“Haibara!” You spin around, hugging him back instinctively. “Congrats, Mr. 500k. You’re officially famous now.”

He beams, pulling back, his grin wide enough to make your cheeks ache sympathetically. “Nah, I’m just lucky. Anyway, wouldn’t have made it without you guys.”

“Aw, you flatter us.” Utahime mocks lightly. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that after we’ve been live for three hours straight.”

You scoff out a little laugh, making your way to the fridge as everyone goes back to what they were doing. A small frown forming on your lips as you scan the shelves. Your energy drink stash has definitely been raided again, leaving you with exactly one last can, pushed to the back behind Yuki’s questionable protein shakes.

With a grunt, you stretch your arm deeper into the chilly depths, fingers grasping at the can until you finally manage to drag it out.

“Jackpot.” You whisper triumphantly to yourself.

As you straighten, you flick the can lightly, savouring the sharp, metallic sound it makes. Cracking it open, you inhale dramatically, the tart, sweet raspberry scent hits you like a shot of dopamine. You take your first grateful sip and lean your hip against the counter, half-paying attention to the scattered chaos down the living room.

Until a familiar voice drawls from behind you. “You were late.”

Your stomach does a traitorous little flip at the closeness of his voice, and your first instinct is always the same: freeze. Just for a second. Stupid, stubborn muscle memory. Then your gaze turns to the side.

Suguru stands a little too near, looking at you from under heavy lids, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His violet eyes hold a glimmer of amusement, like he’s already caught you off-guard.

You refuse to let him see it. Not today. Not ever again.

“You counting down the seconds until I showed up?” You reply smoothly, tilting your chin up a little, although your heart’s pounding slightly.

“Don't flatter yourself.” He murmurs, though his tone is far more loaded. His eyes skim briefly over your outfit, then to the drink in your hand, before returning lazily to your face.  “You always did have a terrible caffeine problem.”

“Right back at you.” You reply flatly, keeping your expression carefully neutral, almost bored.

His eyes linger, dragging leisurely down your face. “At least I admit it.”

“Oh, you’re admitting to your issues now?” You raise your brows slightly, feigning surprise. “That’s new.”

He chuckles softly, tilting his head slightly as if admiring the sharp edge of your sarcasm. “Cute. But maybe worry about your own bad habits before lecturing me on mine.”

“I think we both know I’ve never listened to a word you say.” You take another slow sip, purposely unbothered, the liquid fizzing pleasantly against your tongue.

“Mmm.” He hums thoughtfully, gaze flickering over your lips, following the way your mouth hooked around the side of the can. “Not true. There were times you listened very carefully.”

Heat climbs slowly up the back of your neck, but you hold his stare defiantly. “Hmm? Must’ve slipped my memory.”

He leans in, invading your space with practiced ease. It’s a move you know well, one he uses to provoke you. “Your memory was always pretty good. Especially when it came to details.”

His voice dips lower on the last word, a quiet taunt wrapped in silk. The way his eyes glitter, playful yet dark, is utterly infuriating. And entirely too familiar.

“You really think you’re that memorable?” You bite back softly. “Guess arrogance never dies.”

Suguru grins, all slow-burning mischief. He reaches out, fingers brushing yours as he slides the can right out of your grip.

“Hey–”

Ignoring your protest, he lifts it to his lips. You watch helplessly, your pulse betraying you, hammering just a bit faster than before. He tips the can back slowly, maintaining eye contact the entire time. It’s an unapologetic gesture, his mouth pressed exactly where yours just was, throat bobbing as he swallows. Then he lets out the softest, most fucking maddening hum of approval. “Mhm, raspberry.”

You swear your heartbeat echoes louder than the distant bass.

“Are you serious?” You hiss, grabbing the can back from him when he finally lowers it. Your fingers brush again, his touch warm and entirely too lingering. “Did you forget your mother’s lessons on manners?”

“I was thirsty.” He licks his lips slowly, savouring the sweet, lingering taste, eyes glinting mischievously. “Besides, yours always tastes better.”

“Glad to know your standards haven’t improved.” You retort dryly, taking another sip purely out of stubbornness. The rim of the can still feels warm from where his lips had just been.

His eyes follow your movements closely, watching your mouth with the lazy intensity of a predator enjoying the hunt. “Maybe they haven’t. Guess some habits are hard to break.”

You roll your eyes, deliberately ignoring the layered implication. “You’re unbearable.”

“And you’re lying.” He counters lightly, his voice a velvet drawl. He leans in a fraction more and you catch a hint of his cologne. “But we’ve always been good at pretending, haven’t we?”

Your jaw tightens. For a second, you’re both locked in a silent, stubborn stare-off, waiting to see who’ll flinch first, who’ll look away, who’ll concede this round. His smirk never wavers, lazy confidence wrapped around him like armour.

God, you want to slap that look right off his stupidly perfect face. You hate how easily he still gets under your skin. Hate that little spark that flares inside you every time he comes too close. Hate that no matter how many times you swear you’re done playing around, you always end up circling back around to him and his dumb little games.

Before you can form a reply, someone across the room shouts his name, popping the charged silence.

“Suguuuuru!” A loud voice singsongs from the hallway, unmistakably cocky and echoing straight into your spine. “Where the hell did you go?”

Suguru’s eyes flicker away from you, a quiet amusement replacing the intensity from moments before. “And there’s my cue.”

You don’t respond. You just narrow your eyes slightly, masking your irritation with practiced indifference as your eyes follow Suguru’s gaze. Of course. Who else could it be but him?

Satoru strolls into the kitchen like he owns the whole place. His hair’s tousled, sunglasses perched ridiculously atop his head as always. He’s wearing a faded band tee under a designer varsity jacket, the kind of carelessly expensive ensemble only he can pull off.

He barely spares you a glance before his eyes land squarely on Suguru, and a bright grin splits his face. “There you are.”

Suguru tilts his head slightly, watching Satoru approach with fond amusement, the tension from your conversation seemingly forgotten as he allows himself to be pulled into a casual embrace. Satoru hooks his arm around Suguru’s shoulder, fingers easily tangling in the fabric of his hoodie.

“Were you hiding?” Satoru’s voice is teasing, eyes flicking briefly in your direction. The slight, sharp curl to his smile when he meets your gaze makes it perfectly clear that he’d prefer you weren’t here at all.

You return the sentiment silently, staring back flatly.

“Got distracted.” Suguru replies smoothly, tossing a glance in your direction that feels too smug to be accidental.

Satoru clocks the look, then leans into Suguru, subtly tightening his grip, and presses a casual kiss against Suguru’s temple, his eyes sliding purposefully back to yours as he does it, lingering long enough to make sure you see.

You force your expression to stay carefully blank, ignoring the way something sour twists in your chest. But you know Satoru knows about it anyway. And judging by the slow, satisfied smirk on his face, he's enjoying every second of it.

“Didn’t expect you to be awake already.” Satoru directs at you now, his tone barely masking the sharp jab beneath. “Thought they’d have to forcefully carry you downstairs.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” You reply evenly. “But I’m here now.”

“Yep, you are.” He tilts his head slightly, considering you with mock curiosity. “Congratulations on making an effort.”

The implication hangs unspoken between you. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead letting your mouth curve into something pleasant but cold.

“Nice jacket.” You say sweetly, glancing at his designer sleeves. “Did Suguru dress you?”

He laughs softly, a little too sharp, fingers tightening just a fraction more around Suguru. “Oh, he prefers me without it. Right, babe?”

Suguru’s gaze flits between you both, clearly entertained. He shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back against the counter, comfortable as ever. “I don’t get involved.”

“No, of course you don’t.” You take another slow, pointed sip from your can, ignoring the tightness in your throat. “Always neutral.”

“Better that way.” He murmurs, eyes glittering darkly.

Satoru watches this small exchange carefully, eyes narrowing slightly, a quiet tension settling into his shoulders. He doesn’t like it, you can tell, that there’s something here between you and Suguru, something he can’t fully grasp or erase, something always simmering just beneath the surface.

Good. Let him stew.

Satoru’s thumb brushes gently against Suguru’s collarbone, an idle, affectionate gesture meant just as much for you to witness as it is for Suguru to feel. “Anyways.” He says brightly, pulling away from the counter and tugging Suguru along with him. “You set up in the back, right?”

Suguru lets out a soft chuckle but allows himself to be pulled along, fingers dragging slowly along the polished marble as he moves away. “Yeah. Yuji's still figuring out the camera rig, but we’re good to go.”

And just like that, the conversation ends. They start walking away without so much as goodbye. But as they pass, you feel the quiet, teasing brush of Suguru’s fingertips against your wrist, a feather-light touch so brief you might’ve imagined it.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even look at you. You stare after them, gripping your drink a bit too tightly, fingers denting slightly into the aluminium.

You scoff under your breath. You’re gonna kill him. Both of them. Maybe not today. Maybe not in this room full of witnesses. But someday, somewhere, their time will come.

“CAN SOMEONE PLEASE FIX THIS MIC PACK BEFORE I THROW IT INTO THE FUCKING VOID?!” Utahime’s shriek of frustration snaps you abruptly from your thoughts.

Your mouth automatically lifts up into a smile, shoulders dropping slightly in relief. Grateful for the distraction, you set your can down. “Coming!”

art creds: @/My_onenon1y (on X) | divider: @kodaswrld

taglist open.

[oporotheca]

I have far too many WIPs atm but absolutely nothing can stop me from thinking a little bit too hard about a pro baseball au right now...

Just hear me out!!

Pro baseball player!Suguru x Sideline reporter!Reader

- Pro baseball player!Suguru who, despite being the Tokyo Sorcerers' star catcher, is very quiet about his personal life (mostly due to the fact that he has two young daughters to think about) and is well known for disliking reporters. - Sideline reporter!Reader who has spent years reporting on women's pro baseball and finds herself unexpectedly met with the opportunity of a lifetime when team manager!Shoko, the manager of the Tokyo Sorcerers, reaches out to offer her the team's sideline reporter gig after having worked with her in the past. - Sideline reporter!Reader who is quick to take team manager!Shoko up on the gig in the midst of the pro baseball pre-season despite the fact that she knows next to nothing about the team. - Team manager!Shoko who gets sideline reporter!Reader into an exclusive Tokyo Sorcerers party on short notice to help her get acquainted with everyone before suddenly having to cancel last minute, leaving her to fend for herself. - Pro baseball player!Suguru who ends up at the very same party after pro baseball player!Satoru literally begs him to go. - Pro baseball player!Suguru and sideline reporter!Reader who end up hooking up in the bathroom at the party - neither of them having any real clue who the other person is. - Pro baseball player!Suguru and sideline reporter!Reader who are in for a rude awakening when they finally get to officially meet at team practice the following Monday...

Pro baseball player!Satoru x MILF!Reader

- Pro baseball player!Satoru who is the star pitcher for the Tokyo Sorcerers (a fact so widely known that even sideline reporter!Reader knew his name before she started working with the team). - Pro baseball player!Satoru who, due to his fame, has gained a bit of a reputation as a player (and not just in the baseball sort of way), much to the chagrin of the team's PR managers. - Pro baseball playerSatoru! who never thought much about said reputation until suddenly, he finds himself in quite the pickle when his PR team starts to insist that he does something about it to allow the Tokyo Sorcerers to start working toward a more 'family friendly' look. - Pro baseball player!Satoru who gets told that he needs to find himself a consistent date for the various events taking place throughout the upcoming season for the sake of the team's image. - MILF!Reader who, despite knowing next to nothing about baseball outside of what her 7 y/o son gushes about, moves into a neighborhood populated by multiple players of the Tokyo Sorcerers in an effort to be closer to her best friend (Sideline reporter!Reader) after finally gaining sole custody of her child. - Pro baseball player!Satoru who doesn't even realize that he has a new neighbor until he sees said MILF!Reader's son peeking over the fence as he practices at home. - MILF!Reader who is quick to apologize for her son's behavior once she catches the two chatting over the fence and learns what happened, allowing her to officially meet pro baseball player!Satoru, who is honestly just doing his best to not show how absurdly attractive he finds her. - Pro baseball player!Satoru who, after meeting MILF!Reader and watching her with her son, starts to think that he may have just found a solution to his not so family friendly image...

Now... could I also go on and on about Team manager!Shoko x Rival team manager!Reader ideas?? Absolutely, but this post is getting way too long and I need to sleep.

...That being said, I do have plans, and they are, in my humble opinion, absolutely delicious 😌

(side note, but i wrote all of this at 6:00 in the morning pre-sleep, so pretty please forgive me for any spelling/grammar issues 🙃)