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aeristudios · 1 year ago

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F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple.

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor.

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate. “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you.

“I know.”

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work.

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh.

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear.

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close.

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this? He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode.

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him.

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.”

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that.

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort.

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him.

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.”

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex.

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt smut #svt angst #svt fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #svt ff #scoups ff #seventeen smut #ksmutsociety

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thesecondhandwoman · 6 months ago

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BIRTHDAY GIRL

Caitlyn x f!reader

Synopsis: It is Caitlyn’s birthday, and you wanted to make it perfect, especially as her girlfriend, even if you made it a bit excessive.

A/N: Just had to write something for this woman’s birthday (she turned 24/25 in the fanfic).

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains of Caitlyn’s bedroom, painting the room in shades of gold and lavender. You perched carefully on the edge of the bed, balancing a tray loaded with breakfast delights: fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, perfectly scrambled eggs, fresh fruit arranged in a neat fan, and a steaming cup of coffee. A single rose sat in a vase beside it all, adding a touch of elegance Caitlyn would certainly notice.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently nudge her shoulder. “Caitlyn,” you said softly, your voice warm with anticipation. “Time to wake up, birthday girl.”

She stirred, her brows knitting slightly before her lashes fluttered open. Her soft blue eyes, still hazy with sleep, locked onto yours. “What’s all this?” she murmured, her voice low and drowsy.

“Good morning to you, too,” you teased with a grin. “Breakfast in bed, because today’s your day, and I plan on spoiling you properly.”

A smile crept across her lips as she sat up, her hair falling in tousled waves around her face. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she said, though the soft blush coloring her cheeks told you she was already touched.

“Oh, but I did,” you replied, placing the tray on her lap. “You only turn, uh, twenty-something once.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re terrible at this guessing game.”

“Terrible at guessing, sure. Great at making you smile, though,” you said with a wink.

“Did you really forget my age though, baby?” She joked while looking back down at the tray.

“Pssh, no, I was just joking, Mrs. 25 years old.”

Caitlyn chuckled again, her elegant fingers wrapping around the coffee mug. She took a careful sip, her eyes closing briefly in appreciation. “Perfect, as always. What would I do without you?”

“Probably forget it was your birthday,” you teased.

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fair point.”

As she ate, you stayed close, enjoying the peaceful morning with her. Every bite seemed to make her more at ease, her usual sharp and focused demeanor replaced with something softer, more relaxed. It wasn’t often Caitlyn allowed herself to be doted on, but today, she accepted it gracefully.

Once the tray was empty, Caitlyn set it aside and reached for your hand. “Thank you,” she said, her voice sincere. “This was a lovely way to start the day.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you said, leaning in to kiss her lightly. “The day’s just getting started.”

Her lips quirked up in amusement. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” you promised. “Just be ready for a few surprises later.”

She gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further. “Well, I’m intrigued.”

After Caitlyn left for work, the real madness began. Piltover’s streets were their usual chaotic blend of merchants shouting, tinkers advertising their wares, and enforcers patrolling with sharp eyes. You darted between stalls and shops, collecting everything you needed for the evening: golden and sapphire balloons, streamers, candles, and a perfectly wrapped present hidden inside your bag. The pièce de résistance, however, was the cake.

The bakery owner handed it to you carefully, the chocolate confection topped with elegant swirls of frosting and decorated with delicate candied flowers. “You’ve got good taste,” she said with a grin.

“Thanks,” you replied. “She deserves the best.”

By mid-afternoon, your apartment was a bustling hub of activity. Streamers crisscrossed the ceiling, the banner proudly declaring HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAITLYN! in bold letters. The table was set with plates, utensils, and the centerpiece cake surrounded by tiny party favors. You even managed to string up fairy lights along the windows for extra charm.

The doorbell rang just as you adjusted the final balloon. When you opened it, Vi stood on the other side, holding a small, poorly wrapped box. “You know, you’re making the rest of us look bad with all this effort,” she joked, stepping inside.

“Somebody has to,” you teased back. “And Caitlyn deserves it.”

Vi smirked but didn’t argue, setting her gift on the table. “She’s lucky to have you.”

The guests trickled in after that, which were Caitlyn’s colleagues, Ekko, Jayce and Viktor, even Jinx (who, after a stern warning from Vi, promised not to set anything on fire). The room filled with laughter and chatter, the perfect backdrop for the celebration ahead.

When the clock struck 7:00, Caitlyn’s key turned in the door. You quickly shushed everyone, the room falling silent as the door creaked open.

“Hello?” Caitlyn called, her tone cautious.

“Surprise!” everyone shouted, the room erupting in cheers.

Caitlyn froze, her wide eyes darting across the sea of smiling faces and the colorful decorations. When her gaze landed on you, standing front and center with a proud grin, her expression softened into something you couldn’t quite describe—relief, happiness, and love all wrapped into one.

“You did all this?” she asked, stepping further into the room.

“Of course,” you said, walking up to meet her. “Happy birthday, Cait.”

She hesitated for only a moment before pulling you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping securely around you. “Thank you,” she murmured into your ear. “This is perfect.”

The party was a smashing success. Caitlyn blew out her candles to a raucous chorus of “Happy Birthday,” her cheeks pink with embarrassment but her smile never wavering. She opened her presents with genuine delight, though Vi’s gag gift (a questionable sweater) earned an exaggerated groan.

As the evening wore on and the guests began to filter out, you found Caitlyn sitting on the couch, the soft glow of the fairy lights framing her silhouette. You joined her, leaning into her side as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“You really went above and beyond today,” she said softly.

“I wanted it to be special,” you replied. “You deserve that.”

She looked down at you, her sapphire eyes catching the light. “You make every day special, you know.”

You felt your cheeks flush but didn’t look away. “That’s because you make it easy.”

She laughed quietly, then leaned down to kiss you. It was slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that made time feel irrelevant. When she pulled back, her expression was tender.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, you didn’t complain when I started leaving coffee at your desk every morning.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “That was bribery, and you know it.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

She kissed you again, cutting off whatever witty comeback you might’ve had.

The night ended with the two of you curled up together under a blanket, the remnants of the party scattered around the room. Caitlyn’s hand traced gentle patterns on your arm as you rested your head against her chest.

“This was the best birthday I’ve ever had,” she murmured, her voice soft and content.

“I’m glad,” you said, snuggling closer. “You deserve it, Cait.”

She kissed your temple, her lips lingering. “You’re my favorite part of today.”

“And you’re mine,” you replied, tilting your head to meet her gaze.

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the glow of the fairy lights and the faint scent of cake in the air, you knew this day would be one to remember.

A/N: Happy birthday Caitlyn (and any others who also have the same one!)

#Caitlyn x you #Caitlyn x reader #Caitlyn fanfic #caitlyn kirammann #caitlyn kiramman x you #Caitlyn #Caitlyn arcane #arcane caitlyn #arcane fanfic #arcane #lesbian fanfic #lesbian #fluffy fanfic #fluff #birthday fanfic #birthday #happy birthday caitlyn!!#fanfic #fanfic writing

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syluvies · 2 months ago

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˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 — ‘ preparing a birthday surprise for Sylus without him knowing turned harder than expected ’

“do you seriously expect me to believe you are working today?” the amusement in Sylus voice could be caught miles away, the soft and rich chuckle followed just adding onto the situation where you had to bite your bottom lip so as not to laugh.

in return you huff, keeping the phone between your shoulder and cheek, “I’m telling the truth” trying to keep your voice as steady as possible as you carried a box in your hands, “I had told you there was a strange influx of wanderers we needed to investigate”

“... I suppose you did..., can’t I take you to work? my bike is right outside”

the way he tried, under any circumstances at least see you for a little warmed your heart, and crushed you at the same time as you had to reject him, why are surprises so hard?

“I’m already there, sorry” you drag the last word, the box in your hands now resting on the nearby table, allowing you to pick the phone on a hand and use the free one to instruct Luke and Kieran where to hang the large “Happy Birthday” paper banner you bought a week ago, right above the couch so it would be the first thing Sylus sees.

there is a moment of silence, and although it pained you to lie to him, especially on his birthday, you hoped he would like the surprise, “i will send Mephisto” he instead says a bit later.

even though he is not looking you still raise a brow, “send Mephisto where?”

“to your apartment”

“I told you I am at work”

“I don’t care, sweetie” there was that tone again, the one concealing a grin, “unless you are hiding something and don’t want Mephisto to see”

“tsk, of course not, do whatever you want” you sound nonchalant, mentally remembering where you hid some of those colored paper bags Mephisto loved and stole from you last time, that will be enough to distract him, “I have to admit it’s strange you told me, usually you just send him to—” suddenly a loud pop echoes behind you where the twins stay frozen as if you won’t see them standing with their hands on their back hiding a confeti popper and the whole floor covered in colored paper pieces, “talk to you later, Sylus!”

“wait—” and the line goes silent.

it’s as silent as his home, strange, by this time the twins would have been making ruckus outside with one of the many board games you introduced them to, but suspiciously they weren’t around.

Sylus was not stupid, neither were you good at keeping secrets, but something, an awful feeling at the bottom of his belly grew, truly you could not have forgotten his birthday, right?

that could not be, he trusted you, but also knew you were a little distracted due to the busy season at the hunters association. and he loved you enough to not let the fact that you probably forgot his birthday bother him in the slightest, but he did miss you badly.

an hour or so later and the place was still not ready, not with you being the only one inflating the balloons while Luke and Kieran fidgeting with the party hats and trying to get them to keep their shape, not to mention Mephisto was currently held hostage, cawing weakly —almost begging to be freed from the ‘prision’ of your apartment— atop the table with one of the messed up party hats on his head.

meanwhile Sylus was restless for a different reason, it’s 6 pm and you have not texted or called him, his phone felt heavy with the need to call you at least once, perhaps grab an early dinner together, unless you’re busy with some of your friends.

he did not like that thought, so pushing it away he fetches for his phone, but as soon as he is about to dial, the twins come rushing from the front door, expressions concealed behind those masks, but as soon as they repeat the words, “boss, she’s hurt!” followed by the missing crow’s loud caw, Sylus does not ask further, rushing outside to hop on his bike and drive to your apartment.

it’s almost a record how fast he drives there, the key you gave him burning on his hand as he is quick to almost run to your floor, and once he pushes into your apartment, his expression shifts.

“surprise!” there you are, in all your stunning glory, looking like a vision in the beautifully decorated room and a board of multiple snacks and wine suited to his taste gently placed on the table, but it’s you all he sees, his heartbeat erratic and the concerned look now turning into a full grin.

“I have to confess...” he starts, taking long strides until there is no distance between you both, his arms hook under your thighs and in a second is carrying you to the couch to place you on his lap, “... for once, you got me, sweetie”

“I thought you already guessed” you say soft, having an arm around his neck.

“not completely, no, you had me fooled” a hand of his come to gently trace the shape of your cheek and jaw, looking at you like the most precious thing in the world, “but next time, don’t worry me so much, you should know my only wish, is you”

he tastes like cherries when you kiss, sweet and tender, so him, not paying attention to the sound of his phone beeping with an incoming text that said:

“happy birthday, boss-man!” attached with a tiny emoji of himself and the picture of an embarrassed Mephisto in the party hat.

#lvminy.lads #Sylus fluff #sylus x reader #Sylus x female reader #lads fluff #lads x reader #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace x reader

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jikooklove9795 · 1 month ago

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Hi! I recently saw a post about a live Jimin did for his birthday. In this live he had a cake that said “you are my Park filter” writing on it. Jungkook said he made the cake for Jimin. But Jimin had previously said the cake was giving to him by the staff. Do you know if the cake was actually from Jungkook?

Hi! 😊

That live was truly something, so much to unpack! It was interesting (very), revealing and undeniably telling.

I'm sure most of you already know all the details of this live, but let's go over it again because it never gets old.

The first thing that caught my eye during this live was the decorations in the background

Compared to the other member's birthday setups that year, Jimin's definitely stood out

The other members mostly had simple decorations with photos and writing. The only exception was Seokjin, whose setup was special because it also celebrated the release of "Super Tuna" which dropped on his birthday. Otherwise, his too would have been like the other five. Even though, Seokjin's setup was a bit more elaborate than the other five, it still didnt compare to Jimin's.

Jimin's had so much going on. The balloons, the color coordination, the writing and a birthday banner.

I thought about it and the only reason that makes sense is that it wasn't just done by the staff like the others. In Jimin's case it was all arranged by Jungkook.

Let's break it down one by one.

First, the JM balloons which resemble the JM tattoo on Jungkook's hand. Even with that same gap. And yes, JM is definitely Jimin. Jungkook said so during Run BTS when he pluck out the J and M balloons out of the PAJAMA PARTY, stuck them on his chest, went up to Jimin and said "JM, Jimin". Jungkook got his tattoo in Sept 2019. This episode aired in March 2020 but it was shot in 2019. Most probably in Aug 2019. Anyway it was before Jungkook got his tattoos.

Next, there's the yellow and purple color coordination. Jimin and Jungkook's representative colors. The yellow JM balloons were placed over purple heart balloons and there were yellow and purple hearts placed side by side. Talk about obvious! Not to mention the red heart balloons added a sweet touch.

Then there was the "Cutie, Sexy, Lovely. Happy Birthday Jimin"

Back to the live, Jimin mentioned that the decorations and cake were prepared by the staff. I'll leave that there for now and share my thoughts on it at the end. For now let's keep going.

I think he read a comment asking about the members and he replied like this:

But then he did something which caught my attention. He spun in that chair, moved toward the decorations and pointed at them with both hands

To me it felt like he was hinting that a "certain member" did this for him. Otherwise why would he do that right after talking about the members and saying he wished just "one" of them was with him?

He then talks about his daily routine. A few minutes later he reached for his phone, seemed to be contemplating and finally made the call to Jungkook, asking him to join the live and keep him company.

So, Jimin made the call to the "one" he truly wanted there with him. It's always Jungkook for Jimin and here he is proving it again. I'm sure Hoseok would have come too if Jimin had asked, but it wasn't Hoseok who he needed. It was Jungkook.

Just one minute. 60 secs. That's all it took for Jungkook to show up at the studio. What is he??? Superman?!

He was working out with two others when Jimin called, but he dropped everything and rushed over because he knew his bf wanted company for the live. In the process he even spoiled his new haircut which he wanted to surprise ARMY with. But priorities are priorities and for him Jimin always comes first.

Then we are treated to some adorable Jikook moments.

Jungkook says he's leaving and he's out the door when Jimin asks him to fetch water for him. He not only brings water but also Soju. He's about to leave again when they hear a knock. Jungkook opens the door and it's Hoseok. And Jungkook stays back too to chat a bit with both of them.

Let’s pause and talk about something interesting. Notice how Hoseok knocked for someone to open the door, while Jungkook just walked right in? Before Jungkook entered, you can hear the sound of the machine granting entry. That’s the first clue that the studio belongs to Jungkook (if it wasn't already clear from the decor). HYBE’s studio rooms have face and fingerprint scans that only allow access to the assigned member. That’s why Jungkook could enter freely, while Hoseok had to knock.

This live clearly proves what I'm saying. From the 59 min mark you can see Hoseok scanning his face and fingerprints to enter his studio:

youtube

Then what about Jimin? We will know about it soon.

Let's continue again.

Hoseok mentions a strong smell in the room, like spicy garlic fried chicken. Jungkook immediately says he wants it, and Jimin agrees. Jungkook suggests ordering it, but Jimin reminds him that his mom is already cooking for him (or maybe for both of them?).

Jimin and Jungkook getting busted by Hoseok in 3... 2... 1!

Jimin's expression nearly slipped but he caught himself.

By now, Hoseok knew exactly what was going on. He wasn’t done yet and went in for the final blow:

And Jimin was left completely speechless. Reminds me of this:

And also Hoseok's Tokyo 2016 live.

When Hoseok teased Jimin about continuing the live in his studio, Jungkook quickly tried to change the subject by bringing up the 3J Butter version, a bit too obviously 😅

youtube

They drank soju, and Jimin left with Jungkook and Hoseok from Jungkook's studio. He lingered outside for nearly a minute, making me wonder if he was complaining, whining to Hoseok about spilling the beans. Moments later, the machine sounds granting entry into the studio and Jimin walks in. So, now its clear that Jungkook's studio allows access to Jimin too.

And even if the studio has a password system still the point is that others have to knock while Jimin can enter by unlocking it himself.

Now to answer your question about the cake, yes, I think Jungkook was the one who arranged it. Jimin probably chose not to share that with us, just like he did with the decorations. The wordings on the cake and the decorations on the wall felt too personal like something which comes from your significant other instead of from a fellow band member. So, he likely decided to say they were from the staff.

What we see and hear about their relationship is probably just 25% of the full picture.

Take their companion enlistment, for example. They got confirmation regarding it on 6th Sept 2023. But to make that happen, they must have started discussing about it in early 2023. Yet we only found out when it was officially announced.

The same goes for the hickey situation. During the Jinjikook live in December 2016, Jungkook used a pic of himself to make Jimin stay in the live. When he posted the pic we speculated the hickey to be from Jimin but we had no confirmation about this. Years later, in 2021, Jungkook casually walked in with a hickey and confirmed it was from Jimin.

Next is Taehyung's Osaka live in 2016. The one where Jungkook was dressed down and playing music before Tae entered. Here too we speculated that Jimin was hiding in Jungkook's room but had no confirmations. Then, during the April 2022 live, Jimin mentioned how he's usually dressed down at home and Hoseok chimed in with "And Jungkook's in charge of the music, right?" leaving Jimin momentarily speechless.

Think about all those times we speculated they were sharing hotel rooms. We've had plenty of confirmations from the other members' words and reactions, Jikook's own actions, and even that hidden cam their company set up.

Most of these confirmations came gradually over the years through OG content, the members' words, and Jikook's own actions. Now, think about a fan—not an anti—who doesn’t watch OG content, early-year footage, or only follows their own bias. Speaking from a Jikook perspective, they're unaware of many things we’ve noticed. Their lack of awareness doesn’t mean those things don’t exist. It just means they don't know about it because Jikook hasn’t shared them directly (I mean like a verbal confirmation) even though they’re clearly reflected in Jimin and Jungkook's actions.

This is exactly why some jkkrs feel insecure. Understanding Jikook is a time consuming process. You have to watch as much content as possible from all the members, see the bigger picture, read their magazine interviews over the years and read between the lines to pick up on the hints and subtleties conveyed which they leave for us to figure out on our own. Stop hating on the other members. At the end of the day they're all a family and each one of them cares deeply about the other. It also takes empathy to recognize that Jikook are a closeted couple, which means they might tone down their moments when they feel they're oversharing.

During this live Jimin mentions how he felt awkward with the cam while shooting for their behinds footages but still he acted as if he wasn't. It reminds me of their debut years. Did you realize he was playing the "macho guy" role back then? I didn’t, not until he mentioned it in the BTS documentary. It isn't him lying. It was him simply playing the role he was assigned until he found it comfortable to be himself in front of the camera and audience. Just like Seokjin who had to act the cool guy part during the debut years.

I bring this up to explain the cake and decoration situation. Its Jimin choosing not to share it with us. And this is the same Jimin who mentioned Jungkook visiting his room more than the managers and staying for hours "doing nothing." I’m pretty sure they were sharing the room, but Jimin chose not to say it outright instead choosing to only share a part of the truth.

Jungkook tones it down by saying that it's because Jimin's room is the closest. And this is the same Jungkook who, during his 2023 lives, watched hours of Jimin’s content, constantly asked Jimin to come over or asked if he could go over to Jimin's and showed just how much he missed Jimin when he was busy with work. A big part of his 2023 lives was basically him fanboying over Jimin, supporting him, cheering him on and also made it obvious to us that he misses his bf. So much for toning it down.

Sometimes, it’s the passage of time and changing circumstances that push people to make bold choices and prioritize their happiness above all else.

That’s what I realized when I heard about their military enlistment news. That’s what I felt when I saw Jikook in AYS. It was them choosing their love and happiness above everything else—despite all the critical eyes and opinions.

This conversation:

This goes out to both antis and insecure jkkrs. When you bring up things like Jungkook not knowing about Jimin's tattoo or Jimin not knowing Jungkook's schedule and a bunch of other nonsense, I can’t help but laugh. They probably do know. They're just choosing not to share it. Or pretending not to know, like Hoseok did here. Maybe they feel it’s not their place to share it or they don’t want to overshare or because they want to keep certain things in their relationship to themselves. Privacy! Both of them value that a lot. And it's important that people keep certain matters private in order to protect their relationship. They’re not obligated to report every detail they know about each other to us. However, for 10 years, they’ve shown us more than enough about what they mean to each other. Which in itself is a huge deal. For them it's all about balance.

A healthy relationship strikes the perfect balance between celebrating love openly and cherishing private moments. Publicly, it's beautiful to express love, share happy moments, and show appreciation for each other. It solidifies the bond and lets others witness that joy.

However, the real strength often lies in the private moments. Those quiet conversations, unspoken understandings, and personal challenges faced together. Protecting those sacred spaces from outside noise allows the relationship to grow stronger without external pressures.

This balance isn't about hiding. It's about choosing what to share and what to hold close to your heart. It’s like saying "We are happy, and that's ours to protect".

And Jikook are doing an amazing job practicing this balance despite their surroundings and circumstances.

When I began answering this, I planned to keep it brief, but here we are! Thanks for the ask, anon. I really enjoyed answering it.

Take care 👋🏻

Credits to the owner of the video

#jikook #kookmin #jungkook #jimin #ask

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deanswhiskey · 1 year ago

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𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 - 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

summary; its sams birthday and his wish comes true

wc; 1,113

warnings; nothing but some kisses

authors note; AAAAHHHHH IM SO SORRY I HAVENT POSTED IN AGES BUT I WANTED TO PUT OUT SOMETHING FOR SAMS BIRTHDAY AND IK ITS LATE BUT OH WELL i promise ill start writing more when i'm done with this semester :))) also this is proofread bc i rushed to put this out apologies for any mistakes

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

the late, late night of may 1st was spent alone in the kitchen. you were so graciously baking your best friend sam a beautiful birthday cake.

since arriving to the bunker and having a ginormous kitchen all to yourselves, you thought it’d be a great idea to start baking and cooking again. being on the road, hunting monsters, you never got the chance to cook or bake. the only cooking you ever did was heating up some frozen dinners for everyone from the store.

not that you minded, sometimes they were good; but nothing, nothing, ever beats a home cooked meal. and to top it all off, homemade dessert.

that’s why when you all settled into the bunker, you went on a big grocery spree and bought almost everything in the store.

the very first meal you cooked was fettuccine alfredo with chicken. something your mother used to make all the time when you were younger and have loved ever since.

when sam and dean walked into the kitchen they couldn’t help but notice the divine aroma.

“‘m my god, what’s that smell,” dean asked searching around for what could be it.

you moved out of the way of the stove to show them a view of the food, “it’s fettuccine alfredo and chicken. it’s almost ready, fo you two wanna set the table?”

they both nodded with enthusiasm, getting plates and forks and knives and set them on the table nearby.

the noodles, sauce, and chicken were finally done and incorporated. you took the pan and a large spoon to scoop it with and headed over to the boys who looked like they were about to start eating from the pan. as soon as the food hit their plates they wasted no time digging in. you chuckled as you watched them almost eat it whole.

that night marked the start of some of the best food sam and dean had eaten.

so now you were baking and decorating the most extravagant looking cake for the man you were secretly in love with.

you don’t know when it happened but something changed and you no longer wanted to just be friends; you wanted more. more than just a quick side hug when celebrating, more than just high fives. you wanted whole, endearing hugs; you wanted to interlink hands and never let go.

the cake you were baking you surly knew sam would like. it’s his favorite cake flavor and a beautiful frosting color. you even added ruffled borders on the top and bottom and near perfect lettering on the top. this cake was made with love.

it was 11:49 pm when you finished and you had flour in your hair, frosting on your shirt, and excess batter on the counter. the cake was put in the fridge to chill over night and the kitchen was finally cleaned 10 minutes later. you quickly showered before hopping into bed with a small smile on your face knowing your best friend would be so happy with everything.

morning came and you and dean had to be the first ones up to set out everything. dean went out to buy balloons (that you and dean so tiresomely blew up) and banners to hand from the walls. he also set out the few presents the two of you bought, even after sam said he didn’t want anything (you both knew you were gonna buy him something anyways), and you set out the cake with the candles, lighting the fee of them up.

sam walked into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!” he jumped at the two of you screaming.

after his scare went away, his eyes lit up like a child at their very own birthday. he rushed over to you thanking the both of you for doing this. he glanced at the cake, “did you make this?”

“with love,” you nodded.

“make a wish, brother,” dean patted his back. sam closed his eyes thinking, he knew exactly what we was going to wish for. he bent down slightly and blew out the candles. you didn’t bother with making breakfast because you knew cake for breakfast would excite anyone.

sam was very giddy to open up his presents. he was ever so thankful for the few new flannels, nice watch, and a new belt you guys gave him.

the three of you sat in the movie room and watched a bunch of old movies. sam has grown very fond of old films. he likes western ones the most.

it was getting late and dean decided that he’d had enough of movies and was feeling sleepy.

now it was just you and sam, on the couch, in the movie room, alone.

the movie was at a slow part, just the main two characters talking in an old western barn.

“did you have a good day?” you turned to sam.

he looks over at you, he loves that smile on your face. “i had probably one of the best days ever. that cake? phenomenal, probably the best thing you’ve baked.”

you blushed and looked down. after a moment of silence you looked up again, sam still looking at you, “what’d you wish for?”

“i cant tell you that,” he chuckled.

“c’mon,” you dragged out.

“no, i can’t!”

“please, for me” queue the big puppy dog eyes.

how could he resist those eyes? “fine, but you can’t get upset.”

why would you get upset?

sams heart is racing. “i wished for you.”

“me?”

“mhm, you.”

“wh- i- why me?”

“because you’re all i’ve ever wanted.”

you were speechless. “sam, i-”

“you don’t have to say anything, it’s okay.”

the saddened look on his face broke you’re heart. “listen to me sam,” you started to smile. “i feel the same way. i mean it when i said that cake was made with love.”

a smile grew on his face. “can i kiss you now?”

it felt like you couldn’t breathe, “yeah,” it came out as a whisper.

sam gently cupped one side of your face as he drew in closer. his lips brushed yours before he fully smashed his lips to yours.

you’ve dreamed on this moment for a while. it was more than you could’ve ever imagined. his lips were soft. he tasted slightly of whiskey that the three of you sipped on earlier and it was perfect.

“my birthday wish finally came true,” sam says just above a whisper.

“good, i’m glad.” you smiled.

the two of you fell asleep on the couch with the old western movie quietly playing in the background. both you and sam fell asleep with a smile on your face in each others arms.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

#spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #sam winchester x reader #supernatural imagine #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester

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p0rk-guts · 10 months ago

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HUSKER!!!! Husk. Whatever. THIS OLD CAT!!!! ^ - ^

comparison + breakdown ⬇️

Look idk what possible lore reasons there could be for Husk having bird wings and tail feathers whether it's hidden somewhere online or to be determined later in the show even though I can't for the life of me even guess why they're there (if you've got any hc's tho I'd love to hear em) but I just got rid of em entirely, at least for the time being. Declutters him a little. They're definitely a little much.

And I've always hated those buttons on his chest fur... Are they part of his pattern.... Are they hot glued on...... What is it with Viv and melting clothing and flesh together.........

He also does NOT look 60-70 like at all (pretty sure that's canon but I just got it off the wiki) so I tried to remedy that by giving him more wrinkles and creases. He's a Persian cat thing now bc some of them really do be lookin like mustache wearing old guys fr. Also his neck fluff is sorta supposed to allude to facial hair w/ some greying sprinkled in! He's officially like... 62 now. + He's fatter bc 1) beer belly 2) Persian cat build and 3) Vivzie twink fatigue

Husk's outfit is objectively silly for his grown ass to be wearing but I like the hc I've seen around as that being a stipulation in his deal with Alastor where he figuratively and literally "took the shirt off his back". Considering how as an overlord he had a nice suit and he (possibly. Definitely In headcanons) doesn't even like showing off sinner features, or his body at all, especially not in such a way. Is this canonically the case? Probably not. But hey 🤷🏾‍♀️

I made some comparatively minimal changes there. I undid his tie bc man's usually drunk and doesn't have the energy to fuss with it. I also gave the ends a bit of a spade shape. The clasps on his suspenders are meant to be clovers and there are still hearts on his hands. For the diamond face... I kinda tried to put it into his tail? But that's kinda iffy so 3.5/4 card faces achieved 👍🏾

Turned his top hat into a more flat wide brim hat that i could NOT for the life of me find a name for... Just wider fedoras I think? but they seemed to be kinda popular at the time. For my Husk, as an overlord he occasionally wore a fancy top hat when he was showing off, and now this is like. His downgrade replacement he's got to wear. + Some playing cards tucked into the hat band!

Made those yellows his primary colors bc in my rewrite greed is gold and I definitely think that would've been one of his major sins in life. Also a bit of gluttony too, which I made orange, so I added some of those tones in there. Allsoo after fussing with the colors for literal days I stilllll kindahateemalittle BUT IT'S FINE. I'll figure it out

And that's all for him!! Realized I forgot to put the little anti Viv banner on my last post but then again idgaf fr it's whatever. If you don't know I hate her you'll learn before long

And, of course, dvelopment sketches 4 sticking around!!!!

Ok that's all bye ✌🏾🧍🏾‍♀️

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #husk #husk redesign #hazbin hotel rewrite #my art #digital art #character design

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minxipinxi · 3 months ago

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🎮 Love & Deepspace – One Year Later: A Deep Dive into Achievements, Controversies, and Future Hopes 🎮

Since its launch, Love & Deepspace (LADS) has evolved significantly, introducing new features, quality-of-life improvements, and (of course) sparking debates about monetization. Here's a comprehensive, detailed look at what the game has accomplished, where it shines, and where it could do better.

🌟 Major Improvements & New Features

1. Lunar Shop Overhaul 🌙

Before:

Ranking up 5★ memories only gave 50 Lunar Crystals, which felt unrewarding.

Players had no meaningful way to spend excess crystals.

Now:

Lunar Crystals can be exchanged for exclusive outfits and accessories.

The first outfit (inspired by a meme!) was a fun addition.

Problem:

Outfits cost 100 crystals per color variant: forcing players to grind (or spend) for multiple copies of 5★ memories.

The system has a finite limit: once you max out standard banner memories, crystals stop accumulating unless you pull on limited banners.

Verdict: A step in the right direction, but too restrictive. Let players unlock color variants freely!

2. Memory Growth Bonus (A Lifesaver for Leveling) 📈

Before:

Leveling memories past 60 required insane resources, making progression tedious.

Now:

A growth bonus significantly reduces the grind for multi-banner memories.

Problem:

Myth memories (solo banners) don’t benefit from this system.

High-level players still face bottlenecks when upgrading beyond 60.

Verdict: A great addition, but should be expanded to all memory types.

3. Glint Photo Booth & AR Snapshot (A Fan Favorite!) 📸

Why It’s Great:

Allows creative photo-taking with LIs and MC.

Sparked huge community engagement (players share edits, memes, and stories).

Controversy:

Some speculate this feature was only added because revenue allowed it (no official confirmation).

Raises questions about whether F2P-friendly content depends on profit margins.

Verdict: One of the best social features: hope they keep expanding it!

4. 4★ Memories with Dynamic Dates (A Mixed Bag) 💘

What Changed:

Promise Cards (paid 4★ memories) now include visual novel-style dates.

More immersive than before, but not as deep as 5★ memories.

Problems:

Paywalled: only available via the Promise system.

Some players prefer audio-only dates (like in Secret Times) for multitasking.

Verdict: Nice for spenders, but should be more accessible.

5. Hairstyles & Accessories (Cute but Costly) 💇‍♂️🐱

The Good:

New cat ears, tails, and hairstyles added customization depth where early banners bundled accessories with outfits (e.g., Yes, Cat Caretaker Event).

The Bad:

Later banners split hairstyles from outfits, forcing extra pulls (e.g., Tomorrow's Catch-22 Event) locked hairstyles behind additional gacha layers.

Verdict: A fun addition, but predatory monetization hurts player trust.

6. Abyssal Chaos (Rewarding but Flawed) ⚔️

What It Offers:

A roguelike mode with deduction puzzles, lore, and rewards.

Completing it grants ~10.7 pulls over 6-8 weeks.

Problems:

Rewards are one-time only (no refreshes).

Grindy and time-consuming—many players skip it after the first run.

Verdict: Could be much better if rewards reset bi-weekly.

7. "With Him" Room Customization (Needs More Life) 🏠

Improvements:

Expanded room size and more furniture options.

Missing Elements:

No visible LI presence (unlike Destiny Café, where they interact).

No rewards for decorating—reduces incentive to engage.

Verdict: Needs real-time LI interactions (e.g., reading, sleeping).

8. Free 20 Pulls (Thank You, CN Players!) 🎁

How It Happened:

Global received 20 free pulls only because CN servers topped revenue charts.

Proves global players rely on CN spending for rewards.

Verdict: Appreciated, but highlights global-server inequality.

9. Reruns: Good Idea, Bad Execution 🔄

The Good:

Reruns arrived earlier than expected (some gachas wait 2-3 years).

The Bad:

Myth banners only last 7 days: forcing rushed decisions.

Packs are pricier, removing budget-friendly options.

Verdict: Reruns are necessary, but FOMO tactics are unfair.

💸 The Big Issue: Aggressive Monetization

While LADS has improved gameplay, many updates push spending:

Lunar Shop = Requires dupes for outfits.

Split hairstyles = More pulls needed.

Abyssal Chaos = Rewards are too scarce.

Rerun tactics = Limited-time pressure.

How to Fix It? ✔ Bundle hairstyles with outfits. ✔ Refresh Abyssal Chaos rewards bi-weekly. ✔ Give global players more free pulls (not just CN-dependent).

🎭 Final Thoughts: Love It, But Stay Critical

LADS has grown impressively in storytelling, animation, and features. However, monetization is getting greedier, making it harder for F2P/low-spenders/dolphins to keep up.

What’s Next?

Will the developers listen to feedback and adjust?

Can they balance profit with player satisfaction?

And remember: stay vocal about fair treatment! ✊

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literaryvein-reblogs · 8 months ago

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Writing Notes: Heraldry

Heraldry - is about showing people who you are.

In England, it started in the later 1100s, when knights began to wear helmets, and they couldn't be recognised. So they began to paint unique combinations of colours, shapes and animals, called their 'arms', on their shields and banners. Only one person was allowed to use these arms. When people saw a knight wearing them in a battle or tournament, they could tell who he was.

It is the science and the art that deal with the use, display, and regulation of hereditary symbols employed to distinguish individuals, armies, institutions, and corporations. Those symbols, which originated as identification devices on flags and shields, are called armorial bearings.

Strictly defined, heraldry denotes that which pertains to the office and duty of a herald; that part of his work dealing with armorial bearings is properly termed armory. But in general usage heraldry has come to mean the same as armory.

The Colours of Heraldry

The 5 traditional colours are, with their heraldic names:

Red = Gules

Blue = Azure

Green = Vert

Black = Sable

Purple = Purpure

Plus the two 'metals':

Gold or yellow = Or

Silver or white = Argent

There are also 'furs', the most common being:

Ermine: representing the white winter fur of stoats, with their black tail tips.

Vair: representing squirrel skins, in blue and white.

If something (say a dog or badger) is shown in its natural colours, it's called proper.

Conventional representations of tinctures used when it is not possible to print the actual colors:

Heraldic Ordinaries

Ordinaries - the simple shapes used on heraldic shields, against a colour, metal or fur background. If you are making your own design, choose one of these main ordinaries:

Fess = horizontal stripe across the shield

Pale = vertical stripe down the shield

Bend = diagonal stripe

Chevron = like a house gable, pointing upwards

Cross = a plain cross

Saltire = a 'St. Andrew's cross'

Chief = bar across top edge of shield

Bordure = border round edges of shield

Pile = downward-pointing triangle

You can also divide your shield into two colours, either vertically or horizontally, or into four different-coloured quarters.

You don't have to use an ordinary, but if you do remember to never put a colour on colour or a metal on a metal. Try to remember this heraldic rule: colours don't show up well against colours, or metals against metals. This also applies to charges.

Heraldic Charges

Charges - emblems added to the shield, on the background, the 'ordinary', or both.

There can be one big charge, or several smaller repeated ones. Here are some of the common charges you could use:

Crosses - of many different types

Stars

Rings

Balls

Crescents

Diamonds

Flowers

They can be any colour, but remember never put colour on colour, for example a green star on blue, or metal on metal, for example a white flower on yellow.

Many knights also used animals as charges.

Animal Charges

Any animal - either one big one or several smaller - can be used as a charge. They can be shown in many different ways, for instance:

Rearing up (rampant) - like the lion and the hare in the pictures above

Standing (statant) - like the dog

For birds, with wings outstretched (displayed) - like the eagle

Walking along (passant) - like the other lion

If the animal is looking towards you, it is also guardant or 'on guard'. So the lion in the picture is passant guardant.

The ancient royal arms of England are 3 golden lions, one above the other, walking along on a red shield: or, in heraldic code, gules three lions passant guardant or.

Just to make things more complicated, lions passant guardant are also called leopards - but they don't have spots.

Choosing Your Animal

Animals symbolised different qualities. So for instance:

Lions = bravery

Dogs = faithfulness, reliability

Stags = wisdom and long life

Eagles = power and nobility

Badgers = endurance or 'hanging on'

You could also design your own animal charge.

For instance a cat, horse or other favourite pet.

Or you could choose a fabulous beast...

Fabulous Beasts

Though often used as 'charges', these fabulous beasts never really existed.

But some people believed they did, maybe because they'd heard about them in stories made up by travellers to distant lands, like crusading knights or merchant adventurers. Pictures of them also appeared in 'bestiaries', a popular kind of illustrated medieval story-book.

Here are some you could use:

Dragon: the earliest and most common fabulous beast, also used as a badge by Romans, Anglo-Saxons and Welsh. A brave and cunning defender of treasure.

Griffin: a combination of lion and eagle. Symbolises watchfulness and courage - and also guards treasure.

Cockatrice: a cross between a cockerel and a dragon, supposedly hatched from a cock's egg by a snake or toad. Could kill by looking at you, and symbolised protection.

Manticore or 'man-tiger': a fearsome man-eating creature with a lion's body, man's face, tusks, horns and a deafening trumpet-like voice.

Cadency

Cadency - the use of various devices designed to show a man’s position in a family, with the aforementioned basic aim of reserving the entire arms to the head of the family and to differentiate the arms of the rest, who are the cadets, or younger members.

Heraldic works in the 16th century refer to cadency marks as:

a label for the eldest son during his father’s lifetime;

a crescent for the second son;

a mullet (five-pointed star) for the third;

a martlet (a mythical bird), the fourth;

an annulet (a small ring), the fifth;

a fleur-de-lis, the sixth;

a rose, the seventh; and so forth.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

#heraldry #writing notes #writeblr #dark academia #spilled ink #literature #writers on tumblr #writing reference #writing prompt #poets on tumblr #poetry #symbols #light academia #writing inspiration #writing ideas #creative writing #lit #fiction #writing resources

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pomefioredove · 11 months ago

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Noble Bell ; prologue

what if you were sent to Noble Bell College instead?

type of post: (possible) series characters: rollo (barely mentioned), original characters additional info: reader is gender neutral, this is largely my own vision, I wrote this all in one sitting and it shows LOL, word count: 3.1k author's note: after several failed drafts, I decided to just write my thoughts on noble bell as a story. do tell me what you think and if I should continue, if you have the chance!

prologue | the king of truands, 1 | the king of truands, 2 |

It appeared as if, for all its hundreds of years of life, very little of Noble Bell College had changed.

The original face, or what is left of it at this time, is almost indistinguishable from the prints of great artists who lived when the City of Flowers was still but three parts of one whole. If it were not for her clothes, those great banners of cotton which hang from her walls and surround her like the ruffles of an unflattering dress, that which cradle the insignia of a college in wine-colored hands, that pointed fleur de lis in gold, Noble Bell College would be the very picture of her younger self.

The halls which extend from one end of her body to the other like the grotesque wings of a pigeon were added after the University, which had once been confined to its own division on the left side of the River Soleil, had consumed the island of the City, that which had, at one time, cradled twenty-one of these magnificent buildings, and now had only one. Noble Bell became a skeletal reminder of its medieval past.

Now, what was once a ground of solemnity and penance, and other ancient things, had given a painful birth to a different sort of self-punishment, that of academia. Noble Bell dawned its new clothes and its new name, and became a home of scholars, a place of enlightened thought. The island that had once been a sanctuary for the sacred became its final resting place. The College was built over hallowed ground.

The body of the Gothic building had gone, in some parts, untouched, however, the later additions, done in the style Haussmann some hundreds of years after, coil around her like the chains of a falsely accused prisoner, or the noose around a beggar's neck.

Statues on the face, neglected, crumbled into dust. The colored glass in the lecture halls were replaced with white windows for better light. Every hundred years, some haughty new headmaster would consider cutting down the building herself, and putting something new and ugly in her stead.

Nothing would ever come of it.

It is important to note, dear reader, that though the past of religion and superstition had been abandoned by the scholars of Noble Bell in pursuit of the enlightened future of thought, with it went only the body, not the soul.

The students of Noble Bell began to look upon their history with pride, rather than disdain, and thus the construction on the lady ceased, and the reconstruction started up. In some aspects, it was too late; the medieval glass had already been sold and repurposed into bottles which floated at the surface of the Soleil, the stone turned to dust and carried into the wind.

This romanticized past was tainted with a bitter guilt, one that struck even the proudest of freshmen when they met the eyes of the statues which guarded the building and her history. A sense of possession consumed the heart of the student body, and, thus, a gate was built. It was sanctuary no more.

A romantic would tell you that it is the love of the people that kept the heart of Noble Bell alive.

This is not true; it is guilt.

To the wise man, the realist, the freshman who feared the eyes of the statues, the traditions that carried on were as meaningful as digging up a rotting corpse and putting it on trial. Without the superstition, it was a delusion, a pathetic attempt at absolution for the sins of the scholar and the printing press.

Enlightenment became repulsive to him.

What was in the hollow halls of the Haussmann was never alive, and what had survived the purge of time and man was hidden in the bell tower for few to touch.

To the wise man, the only absolution of sin was through the fire.

Your heart wakes you before your body.

That is to say, the feeling of dread, of knowing you are somewhere you shouldn't be, comes before the biting cold and the splinters pressing against your back.

The inky water surrounding you in three directions (the fourth being the stone mouth of the river) nearly cradles you back to sleep. Your rest was quite comfortable. You can't remember the last time you slept like that.

Your mind is the very last to wake, and it is what finally forces your body up in a sudden jolt, uneasily rocking the boat which had become your manger.

You grip both sides until it steadies, which gives you enough time to adjust to the dark.

One thing becomes quite clear: This is not where you fell asleep.

Then, another: This is not what you were wearing before.

The delicate fabric, hand-dyed in wine and blood red, is like nothing you own. Where had these come from? Surely, not your closet.

And, more worrying: how did you get in them?

Take a moment, if you will, to look beyond the black water of the river: next to you, on your right, is a stone embankment, with a short ledging that extends only to a single flight of stairs. The wall is so high you cannot see above that.

Now, look behind you: there is one fabulous bridge, also of stone, arching above the water in a mesmerizing pirouette. Warm light spills from its sides and dances on the inky waters below.

Ahead of you is only more river and stone.

And then, on your right again, is screaming.

You had heard screams before, but none like this. This is bloody murder, save me screaming, the sort that makes you jump and run to its source without thinking first.

You climb out of the trembling boat, the sound of your footsteps scuffing against stone following you across the landing and up the steps.

Yet again you are stopped.

Rising above the embankment of the river as if ascending to heaven itself, reaching through the thin evening clouds and into the stars, are two magnificent bell towers.

Your steps slow, and then stop at the peak of the stairs to admire the body of the building, illuminated by street lamps and candlelight, blanketed in a fog of distant laughter.

You have never seen such an unearthly sight.

If not for the screaming, you could have spent days there.

But you are motivated once more to follow the strange sound, and, perhaps, find out where on earth you are.

Like a princess in a tower, the building is guarded by a rather impressive gate, not done in the style of the place itself, but sightly nonetheless. If it were not already left open and vulnerable by some obvious human error, you might not have found a way in.

The sound of your footsteps follows you across the stone, and you stop at the base of a staircase that would have led you to a set of inhuman wooden doors.

And... there is a goat.

A pretty, white little thing, with a bow around its neck.

it turns to you as you stop, and it makes that same screaming noise, and then bounds off around the corner of the building and into another, attached at its side.

"Wait," you say.

Though, your feet move before your mouth, your mouth before your mind, and you suddenly find yourself following this odd twist of a white rabbit.

The delicate thing leaps through an opening in the side, and you climb in after it, chasing it down open-air hallways that remind you all too much of an old monastery.

The goat bleats. "Wait!" you say. "Where is your owner?"

It bleats again, and it almost sounds like a laugh. How strange...

You tumble down corridors and halls, turn corners, ignoring the sound of laughter and cheering that is growing ever so close, and, all at once, you stumble out into the warm light of a party, crashing into something cold and metal. The goat disappears in the crowd.

Everything is silent.

You can see nothing but feet from where you fell, and a hundred hems of wine and blood red. Your clothes.

"Who is that?" someone asks.

"They weren't at orientation,"

"How could anyone be late? That's never happened,"

"They don't look like a student of Noble Bell..."

Student? So this is a school?

"You," a voice says, much colder and sharper than the others, like a winter breeze. "Get up."

You are in no place to disobey.

You stand, uneasily, and, much to your displeasure, every head in the crowd is turned towards you. Whispers dance amongst the students, glances are exchanged, looks ranging from confusion to disdain.

There is only one face you cannot see. At one distant end of the courtyard, there is a stage, dressed in reds and oranges, and on it, four actors. They are as still as the crowd, seemingly having abandoned their play in favor of the mysterious stranger.

The person in question, then, is actually below them, whispering something quite loudly, but you cannot make it out at this distance.

"Your name?"

You turn back to the wintry voice.

This man, you notice, is dressed differently from the others. He's in all black, from his boots to the cloak around him, even his hair, which flows around his shoulders, is as inky as the cold water of the river you had woken on.

"My name?" you ask.

He scoffs. "It is a simple request,"

"Shall we return to the mystery?" a weak, artificially high-pitched voice calls from the front of the crowd. "I'd like to see the mystery continue!"

"Quiet, Gregoire," the man in black snaps. "Now, who are you to come so late?"

"Late to what?"

A few murmurs ripple through the stillness of the crowd.

He sniffles, turning his nose up at you. "You do not know where you are?"

"No,"

Someone begins to whisper. "Do you think they're from-"

"Quiet!" he demands. "This is clearly not a student of any arcane academy I know of."

"They're wearing our robes!"

You look down at yourself. You'd almost forgotten about that.

The boy narrows his eyes. "How did you get here?"

"I don't know. I woke up on a boat,"

He sighs. "What part of the city are you from?"

"...The city?"

Another moment of whispers and stares. The crowd seems to have all but forgotten the play happening at the mouth of the courtyard.

The man in black puts his hands on his hips. "Yes. Now, what division are you from? The old university? The Ville?"

"I, um... none of those,"

"The outskirts, then?"

"No. What city is this?"

His brow furrows, and he crosses his arms. At the very least, he no longer seems angry. More... thoughtful.

"What country are you from?"

You tell him, and he huffs.

"There is no such place. None that I have heard of,"

The same voice from earlier returns. "Perhaps we should wait until after the mystery has concluded-"

"Gregoire!" the man in black snaps, "We know it's you! Quiet, for once in your life!"

"...Very well,"

He grumbles, massaging his temples, and then turns back to you. His eyes are as sharp and focused as his voice. They're dark, almost black, with the faintest gleam of red. He's wearing a lot of eyeliner, you think.

"Come with me. If you are telling the truth, then you will have nothing to fear,"

"There is no such place,"

"That's what I said!" the boy exclaims, swiping the atlas off the desk.

The headmaster of this school is old, much older than you are imagining now, thought perhaps it is not the fault of age, but of weariness.

"Control yourself, Monsieur de Neige," he says, looking longingly at the book whose pages are now scattered across the floor.

The boy grumbles, giving you a nasty side-eye.

"What will we do with them?"

"What else? They will stay here until we can find an answer. I will reach out to my colleagues at the other arcane academies and see if they have any council,"

"Stay here?" he snaps, standing from his chair with such force that it goes flying backward, narrowly missing you from where you're standing against the wall.

"They are not a student of Noble Bell. They are a stranger! Who knows what they might-"

"Now," the headmaster sighs. "I know we are a... private institution. But a long time ago, this building was a sanctuary for outcasts."

He grits his teeth. "I am not willing to risk the safety of the building or its students for an act of pity. You should know that I take my duties as vice president of the student council quite seriously-,"

The corner you'd been backed into was starting to feel tighter and tighter. If not for the conversation, you'd-

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the heavy wooden door of the office opening, but a sliver, and something white just outside.

Your eyes widen. You glance between M. de Neige and the headmaster, and, in the throes of their heated argument, you slip out into the dark hall.

"You," you say, putting your hands on your hips.

The little goat bleats. It doesn't seem very guilty.

"You led me there on purpose, didn't you? To create a diversion? What did you want?'

It stomps and scuffs its hooves against the stone floor, and with another little bleat, it turns around itself to show you something.

Your eyes soften.

There are two apples on the floor beneath it, both bruised and wrinkled, but good nonetheless.

"For me?"

You stoop forward and take one of the browning fruits off the cold, dirty ground, and slip it into one of the wide pockets of the robe. The goat chuffs, clearly pleased, and not even you can help but smile.

"Let's go, then, shall we? I want to get out of this place,"

The hallway is pitch black, the moonlight subdued by clouds and softened by the thick windows, but you can still make your way around quite easily.

You start heading in the direction you came, your new (and only) friend in tow, when the sound of footsteps scuffing against stone follows you.

You turn, eyes wide, expecting M. de Neige, or worse, but there's only a flash of gold and then quiet.

"Who's there? Come out, now, or... my goat will gouge you!"

The little animal stares at you, mouth hanging open in bewilderment, but it seems to work, anyway.

A boy, taller and thinner than M. de Neige, comes out from around the corner with his hands held up. Even in the dull silver light of the hall, you can make out the color of his eyes. Green. His hair is blond and reaches his chin, and is rather unkempt, curling and sticking out at odd places. His straight bangs are clearly cut by his own hand.

"My-my apologies. I did not mean to frighten you. I was only curious,"

You sigh. It's the voice from the orientation festival, the one M. de Neige called Gregoire.

"Well, don't be. We're leaving," you say. "Now... which way is out?"

"There are more than one, if you know where to look,"

You narrow your eyes at him and he goes pale.

"I-I only mean that there are many ways out into the streets, but you wouldn't want to be alone in the city after curfew,"

"I think I can handle it,"

"It's unsafe,"

"Is it?"

"Veritably,"

He doesn't seem to be lying, at least. You let your arms fall to your sides with a sigh.

"But I can't stay here. This feels like a prison,"

"It may," he nods. "It is stone walls all the same. But you don't have to stay here. The dorms are but a short walk away."

The goat bleats, and you agree. You're not sure whether you can trust this man or not, yet.

"What's your name?"

He seems to stand a little straighter, almost eager to talk about himself.

"I am the author Pierrot Gregoire, whose mystery was presented in the courtyard this evening,"

You seem to recall his voice again, his back turned to you in the crowd, as if he were infinitely more interested in his play than the commotion.

"I remember you," you say, sticking your hands in your pockets. You feel around the apple you'd put in there earlier. "Sorry I ruined it."

"The people were losing interest either way," he sighs and hangs his head. "My poor mystery..."

You glance at the little goat, and it chuffs back, nodding its head towards the end of the hall as if telling you to make a break for it while he's distracted.

You can't bring yourself to.

"Here," you say, handing him the shriveled apple. "We're even, then."

Pierrot's entire disposition changes; his face lights up with a childlike joy that makes it seem as if he'd completely forgotten about his woes, and he cups the apple in his palm with reverence.

"Oh... thank you," he says, finally. "I will take you to the dorms."

The evening had grown cold and windy since your spectacle in the courtyard.

The robes, at least, are warm enough to keep you comfortable, although you feel a pang of sympathy for the poor goat, who has only its fur, and, in a way, for Pierrot, whose robes look worn and beaten and strangely burnt.

"You can stay with me in the spare house," he says.

"You don't stay in a dorm?"

"My housewarden threw me to the streets months ago,"

He says it merrily, with that same smile, but there's an underlying sense of bitterness. You don't ask about it again.

Pierrot brings you to a small, dark building at the very edge of the island. Once again, you are surrounded by inky black water.

"Here," he hums, lighting a single candle as you walk in. "It's not much, but better than the sewers."

"You've slept in the sewers?"

He shudders. "I don't want to talk about it,"

Once an adequate amount of candles are lit, he pulls up a chest for you to sit on, and takes a seat on the floor across from you.

You sigh, letting out the stress and tension you'd been carrying in your chest in a single breath.

It felt much later than it truly was.

"That is a pretty creature of yours," he says, nodding at your goat. "Does it have a name?"

"Hugo," it says.

Both you and Pierrot go silent.

Then, finally, you shout.

"You can talk?!"

#noble bell college #<- for organization #noble bell #queued

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cityof2morrow · 8 months ago

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CDK: SimNation Day Set

Published: 10-19-2024 | Updated: N/A SUMMARY Cubic Dynamics by John B. Cube and Marcel Dusims forged the future with furnishings that were minimalist in design and maximalist in erudite pretension. Generations later, the company continues to produce edge-of-cutting-edge designs. Use the Cubic Dynamics Kitbash (Simmons, 2023-2024) collection to set up corporate, exposition, and office environments. Envisioned as an add-on to the Cubic Dynamics set (EA/Maxis, archived at GOS), it features minimalist and retro-futuristic objects. Find more CC on this site under the #co2cdkseries tag. Read the Backstory and ‘Dev Notes’ HERE.

The SIMNATION DAY SET is a collection of 30+ flags and banners to celebrate your city, company, team, neighborhood, season, or nation-state. I’ve added new sizes and optimized poly counts/shadows where possible.

DETAILS Requires all EPs/SPs. §55-500 | Buy > Walls > Wall Hangings Sculptures You need the Company Expo (Mesh Pack) set (Simmons, 2024) for metal TXTRs to show properly in game. ALL files with “MESH” in their name are REQUIRED. Clones of Anye’s Wall Flag (2016) and Nanashi’s Town Hall Administration Flag (2013) are repo’d to MistyFluff’s 3t2 “Vive Le Revolution” Flag (2013). Mistyfluff’s MESH (mif-3t2-UniversityLife-ViveTheRevolutionWallFlag) is included for those who don’t already have it. Clones of Psychosim’s flags (2011) and Veranka’s 3t2 “Orientation Vertical” Banner (2013) are linked to the SimNation Flag in Stone V1 (vertical images, 512x1024) mesh (Simmons, 2023). Keep all files with “MESH” in their filename. ITEMS Wall Fabric Flags 001-004 (972 poly) “Vive the Revolution” Wall Flags 001-004/Mesh (351 poly) Administration Flags 001-003 (691 poly) Flags in Stone V1-V3 (586 poly) University Life Orientation Banner 001-002 (400 poly) Hanging Wall Flags 001-005 (1012 poly) Standing Flags 001-007 (1274 poly) Stick-Out Flags 001-005 (2364 poly, SEMI-HIGH) DOWNLOAD (choose one) THIS SET from SFS | from MEGA COLLECTION FILE from SFS | from MEGA (!) make sure you update your collection file

CREDITS Thanks: Sims2/Simming communities. Sources: Any Color You Like (CuriousB, 2010), Anye’s Wall Flag (2016), Banner ZEvent (Maxime66410 via Creative Commons Attribution, 2010), MistyFluff’s 3t2 “Vive Le Revolution” Flag (2013), Nanashi’s Town Hall Administration Flag (2013), Psychosim’s flags (2011), Veranka’s 3t2 “Orientation Vertical” Banner (2013), Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), EA/Maxis, Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik).

#ts2downloads #ts2cc #sims2cc #co2cdkseries

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munnmolads · 2 months ago

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I updated my Stellactrum colors sheet and made some predictions about the next colors for each LI!

Link to the sheet /// Link to my Reddit post

Predictions under the cut, same as in my Reddit post:

Disclaimer: These predictions aren't based on any leaks for the game. These are only based on the event history and how the colors have been assigned to the guys previously.

Stellactrum Colors by Each LI shows each color amounts for the guys.

Each LI colors priority amounts arranges the colors by their importance to each LI.

Non-Limited cards for each LI shows the amount of cards that are available in the game at the moment, such as Xspace Echo wish pool and Galaxy Explorer memories.

Limited vs. Non-limited card amounts shows how many limited event cards there are and compares them to how many cards we have as non-limited cards.

Predictions:

Promise season - The current Promise cards are 6th colors, so we can assume the next Promise cards are 6th color to Zayne (Green), Rafayel (Blue) and Sylus (Red) as well.

Sylus is around 6 months "behind" on the color rotation for with the OG3, which makes sense since he was released 6 months later than them.

Xavier's next 5* card will likely be blue (5th color) since Rafayel's and Zayne's latest cards were 5th colors.

Caleb's next 5* card color is likely red, as he still hasn't got any other color as a limited card. He's only missing 1 purple limited color from his rotation. It will be a while before he will get any other color than red or purple, with 1 green in somewhere. It could be that he will get Red (1st) -> Green (3rd) -> Purple (2nd) -> Red (1st) until he gets to Blue (4th). This seems to be the order that Sylus and Rafayel have followed.

Rafayel and Zayne are unknown since they are leading the 5* rotation at the moment. It could be that they would get their 2nd 6th color next (Green for Zayne, Blue for Raf)

Sylus prediction: I'm adding a complete chapter to Sylus's prediction because it's more complicated to explain with how the OG3 had a bit of interesting phasing to their colors. OG3 got their first 4th colors during Misty Invasion. Since Rafayel had a solo banner before Wander in Woder, he had 2 x 4th colors (red) before Xavier & Zayne. They got their second 4th colors in WiW, and Rafayel got his first 6th color (blue). After that they both got their own solo banners where both got their 5th colors ( Xavier -> blue, Zayne -> purple). So at this point Xavier and Zayne had their first 5th colors and Rafayel didn't have his, but Rafayel had his 6th and the other 2 didn't have theirs. In between here was Cat Caretaker, where OG3 got their 1st colors, and this was fixed to be even in Nightly Rendezvous with Rafayel getting his 5th color (green) and Xavier & Zayne got their 6th colors (Purple&Green). Xavier's solo in December fixed the birthday card not being a 3rd color and Zayne was missing his freebie 3rd color.

Sylus is now at the point on his birthday that he has 2 of his 4th colors, so he will either have yellow (5th) or red (6th), depending on which of the rotation he will follow. Considering that Caleb is likely to get red, it could be that Sylus will get yellow next and if he will follow the order, after that would be a pink and then the color that is missing from him from the 5* cards.

Other notes:

OG3 + Sylus are at equal amounts of 2nd and 3rd colors, so it's likely we won't see those colors anytime soon from the limited cards

It's kind of clear that they are "gatekeeping" the 1st, 2nd and 3rd colors, which makes sense. Reruns are much more valuable this way since players who miss out on those colors close to the LI release, they need those reruns

3rd color is kind of "freebie" color too. since there are only 1 of 3rd 5* limited colors for Xavier, Zayne,. Raf and Sylus. There are currently 2 non-limited 3rd colors for each of them as well.. 3rd color is still in a awkward position that it's not really required that much as the 2nd or 1st colors are though

^ This might change for the next big update or during later this year if they are going to release 3rd myths. I'm thinking about making a post about breaking down what myths we could get, but for now 3rd color is the likely answer since 1st and 2nd colors have myths already and might dissuade people from getting the new myth. It could also be the 4th color as well, which would be devious since there are no 4th 5* colors as freebies, so it's very tempting.

Sylus is almost catched up with non-limited 5* cards to OG3, he's still missing 2nd color for the story-related card like the OG3 got from their branch stories

OG3 are fairly even with their cards, that's why I'm able to throw these speculations here and I'm seeing this pattern continuing with Sylus. Time will tell if it's accurate and if Caleb will continue in their footsteps

Please let me know if I have missed something or if I have made a mistake with my sheet! The link is in the beginning of this post.

#love and deepspace #lads combat #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads sylus #lads caleb

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pampushky · 11 months ago

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FOTG - chapter 1 - sunshroom

trafalgar d. water law/reader - chapter 1 - 3.1k

ao3 link | masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter

cw: planned execution, mentioned character death (rip my boy corazon), mentions of past arguments/insults, not a very heavy chapter tbh

content otherwise: angst, friends to enemies to lovers, hella slow burn, law needing to figure out emotions, reader is an apothecary, genuinely just angst and idiots on both sides

sunshroom: A mushroom often found in deserts and dry places. It's a beautiful, orange-red color. By drying it, and then turning it to powder, it can be made into a medicine that can then drive away the chills, or added into a stew to safely raise the body temperature of a patient experiencing even the most severe cases of hypothermia.

The news of Trafalgar D. Water Law’s execution is brought to you by a kindly old woman, with a bad bought of dragon-scale, fetching medicine for herself. She drops the two silver coins in your outstretched hand, the rough patches of her skin brushing against your palm, and you shiver a bit as she hobbles out the door, already popping one of the dried balls of medicine into her mouth, strictly against the instructions you had just given her.

“Set to be hung tomorrow at mid-day, m’ducky!” She calls over her shoulder, letting out an ugly cackle as she crunches on another ball. “Should have done it from the start, that’s what I was telling Earl this morning!”

You slump into the chair behind your counter and fight the urge to massage your temple, instead washing your hands vigorously before you even start to handle your morning breakfast. You let yourself breathe, after that, leaning over the little basin of water in the back of your shop before you stride back to the front, wiping your hands on your apron, and starting on your orders for the day.

Hanging was a terrible way to go. No where near as quick, as the crowds who would rush to watch would think. In reality, they died of strangulation, often very slowly, when the rope would fail to snap their neck, which it always did. You know this, because of your father’s teachings, mentoring you in your family’s trade until you were able to work on your own, allowing him to retire to the south of the continent, where he could spend his days with your mother, none of the cold northern winds to make their joints ache.

Somewhere, you feel a pang of horror, that your childhood friend is to die that way. Law, who had been a serious, yet sweet child, was always by your side, helping you gather the herbs and mushrooms you needed, drying lichens with you in the branches of the tall aspen beside your house. He helped wrap your scraped knees and elbows, held tightly to the little cuts on your fingers until the bleeding stopped, and lectured you on the importance of proper hygiene the moment the hair under your arms and on your legs started to grow, waving his two years of age ahead of you like a proud banner, shooting up in height almost overnight.

Also, the same boy who had shoved you into a puddle of mud and declared that he hated you, before storming away, forever poisoning the bond that had grown between you for nearly fifteen years, turning you from friends to bitter enemies in the split second it took for you to fall to the ground after being pushed.

Ah, the duality of man.

It didn’t matter now. A suspiciously brilliant doctor or not, he had been nothing but an ass since your friendship had so abruptly ended. You steeled your heart to his tragedies and accomplishments. You thrived in your own way, continuing with your way of life just as your ancestors before you had, living in the same house, beside the same aspen, making the same kinds of medicine and selling it to the descendants of the people whom your ancestors had helped.

It didn’t matter at all. Especially not when Law left after his father’s death, and then returned three years later, with white patches of skin covering his body, making it look as though a skull had been painted on his face, or the streaks of bright white in his pitch-black hair.

So why did that sting of horror never fade? Even as you crushed dried sunshrooms into the mortar until it was a spicy-smelling powder that could be used to drive away the chills, and raise someone’s temperature safely, even in the worst hypothermia cases. That sharp pain never escaped you, thrumming at your heart until you were certain you had eaten something that was starting to mess with you.

Until you remembered you hadn’t eaten anything at all and gave up on feeling any better about the execution. Events like that always made you uneasy, especially when the imperial Guards would come into your otherwise quiet shop, the horse-hair plumes of their helmets muffling the sweet chime of the entry bell halfway through the ring, looking for a lethal herb or plant that you almost certainly didn’t carry. You hated that despite multiple signs on the door, and after repeatedly writing to the captain of the guard, they still would come asking.

So you set to distracting yourself, putting the powdered sunshroom into a small jar, and then eating an easy breakfast of rice porridge and honey, before getting to the rest of your work for the day with your head down, and definitely not thinking of Law as the day drags on.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Law’s tone is dry, while the shackles slang slightly from around his wrists. He’s sitting on the ground of his cell, caked in dried mud, with a split lip and a black eye. There were other, more well-hidden, wounds from the guard’s interrogation, but they got what they wanted in the end. But still, Bepo looks horrified as he looks at him through the bars of the cell, ears flattened against his head, with his canines bared in sorrow and anger.

“You look…. Horrible,” Bepo mutters and then starts to shake his head from side to side, squeezing his eyes shut and placing his hands over his ears.

“Thanks,” Law leans his head against the brick wall and closes his eyes. “That’s incredibly helpful, Bepo.”

“I-I mean, how, you haven’t done anything wrong—”

“I performed a standard procedure from a different country, where the magic I used is outlawed in this one,” Law deadpans, eyes open again on focusing on the ceiling. “So I did do something. And then the guards beat a confession from me, so it’s my word against… well, myself.”

Bepo groans, and slumps to the ground, curled in an awkwardly large ball for how tight the corridor of the city prison is— the detriments of being a polar bear mink. Oh, the things Law would publish if he could, right now. Mainly about the abhorrent conditions of the prisons. Were the people aware of just how terrible the cells were? Or did they simply not care?

Oh well. It didn’t matter now. Law was as good as dead. Ikkaku and Shachi had been researching tirelessly for ways to get out of this without any luck, and Penguin had tried (and failed) to hire any lawyer that was willing to so much as take a look at his case to argue in front of a judge. According to Shachi, once they had so much as heard the words dark magic they had sent him packing, screaming for him to leave immediately before they called for the imperial guards.

“The more accurate term would be lunar magic, but they never want to have that discussion,” Law sighs, and Bepo unravels himself from his despondent ball on the floor, staring at Law with what can only be described as contempt mixed with annoyance.

Just like you how you looked at him every time he had gone to your shop to stock up on painkillers and other supplies. Surely you’d gotten over what he’d said from when you were teenagers? Having to dodge the pestle that was sent flying at his head answered that question rather quickly, along with Ikkaku and Bepo being the only people allowed in your shop to pick up the supplies he needed. Penguin, Law, and Shachi were recipients of lifetime bans from the shop, which had only happened to two other people in the entire history of your family working there.

There was no need to punish his patients for his ‘assholery’, according to Bepo, which is the only reason why he was still allowed to get what medicines he needed. But Law being able to enter was soundly out of the question, so he would end up standing awkwardly outside the door, using Bepo or Ikkaku to communicate with you.

That wouldn’t be an issue to you anymore, he supposed. You could go back to selling your medicines in peace, and probably even get more customers from his death. How morbid of him to think about— the benefits of his untimely demise, and the setbacks that this country would go through because they had decided to execute him rather than letting their medical sciences and their backwater understanding of magic types evolve.

At least he wouldn’t be able to bother you anymore, gods above knew that you deserved some peace and quiet, not deserving to have the doctor haunting your mind, if he even crossed your mind.

But there was still the issue of how to pass his last day alive, especially while Bepo was still sulking in the hallway, one of his ears twitching slightly at the sound of a shopkeeper singing some song about a man on the way to the gallows. Law didn’t catch much after that– he tended to block such things out to focus on his studies and work. Bepo, however, seemed to be rather interested in something, his head snapping up, before scrambling out of the prison, only saying something about an idea to save Law.

Law only closes his eyes again and lets himself disassociate as he listens to the near-rhythmic scratching of the rats on the floor.

The sweet little bell above the door chimes, drawing your attention away from the scale for just a second, staring at the panting polar bear standing in your doorway, one hand pressed against the frame while the other holds the door open, before managing to wheeze out your name, and looking up at you in desperation, and speaking between giants huffs for breath.

“You…” huff “...have ta’,” huff “...help Law.” huff huff.

“Good afternoon to you too, Bepo,” You speak dryly, and the polar bear can’t help but think about how similar you are to the doctor currently sitting in a cell across the city. “Now, how in the name of Wild Mother would I be able to help a man, who pleaded guilty, by the way, to using dark magic?” You raise an eyebrow, arms folded as you stare him down. “He knew the laws. He should have been more careful– or, I don’t know, not use dark magic.”

The annoyance in your voice is palpable, and you turn your back to him, going back to measuring out a shimmery gold power into a little glass bowl. Your back is stiff, and Bepo can see how tightly you’re holding the little spoon in your hand as you carefully fill the bowl, before adding a few drops of some oil, and then stirring it. You don’t even look back at him, but there is fury in your voice when you realize he still hasn’t left yet when the bell doesn’t chime again after a minute.

“Bepo, I already told you, there’s no way I can help him,” You turn again, letting out a frustrated sigh as you look at him. “Besides— surely I am the last person that he would want to have to help him out of this mess,”

“But you are— wait, no, not the last— urgh! I mean, you’re the only one who can help him!” Bepo slams his hands down on the counter, and you look a bit shocked, raising your eyebrow at him again, while he stammers out an apology.

“That…. is four-hundred-year-old wood,” You sigh, and then look pointedly at the mink, “Explain,” you rub your temple as you speak, thoroughly done with everything to do with Trafalgar Law, and on the verge of considering giving Bepo a lifetime ban for slamming on your counter so harshly.

“There’s an ancient law— if someone proposes to whoever is on the gallows, their life is spared for a year, and they are retried then, based on how they’ve improved and lived with their spouse,” Bepo talks to you in a frenzy, eyes wide, “You can propose to him— right when he’s going up, and then you can use your influence to help him prove that lunar magic—”

“Get out,” you snarl, and Bepo freezes, looking at you with shock, mouth still open, as though he hasn’t even finished his pitch yet. But you’re done listening and don’t want to hear anything else about this idea. Yet he continues, even as you stalk around the corner of the counter, set on throwing him out yourself, if he won’t leave on his own.

“Shacchi and Penguin can’t— they’re married, and clearly only interested in each other, and Ikkaku doesn’t court men. I— I’m too publically known not to do anything, so—”

“Get out!”

And with that, Bepo finally takes the hint and leaves, but not before shouting: “At least consider it! Please! You’re his last chance!”

You close the shop early that day, feeling sick to your stomach as you sit on the floor, knees to your chest, trying to fight off tears as Bepo’s pleas ricochet around your skull. The pain and horror in your heart still haven’t faded, and if anything, they’ve only gotten worse. Damn that man. Damn your fool of a heart, for still clinging to that childhood friendship. And damn the cruelty in Law’s heart for saying those cruel things to you as he shoved you to the ground, his eyes full of nothing but hatred and malice as he towered over you in the rain.

The chime from the little bell above the door haunts you as you go to sleep for the night after spending several hours on the floor of the main shop with your back to the door, painfully aware that the next time it rings, there’s a good chance Law will be on his way to the gallows.

><><><

Executions have always been rather…. Obnoxious events. The crowds are too excited for the end of a person’s life, too entertained by the drama of it all, while the guards read out the sentencing, and details of the crimes. Law never quite understood why so many people were so attracted to it— during his apprenticeship across the sea, he had attended many executions, all to collect the body of the criminal, sent to do the dirty work of the medical academy that the second and third years didn’t want to do.

It’s odd, from the other side of the lens. He can see the bored-looking medical student, with the white-and-gold cloak of a first-year medical student, just as he had worn eight years ago. He can see Shacchi, Penguin, and Ikkaku, in the front row, solemn expressions on their faces, pushed into the barrier by the jeering crowd. It’s an odd mixture of emotions on the faces of the people who’ve come to see him die. Some looked angry, crying out about it being unjustified, and that they were killing an innocent doctor who had done nothing but save countless lives, while others shouted about the god of light and the sun striking him down for his insolence.

Backwater country, Law sneers in his mind, right when a rotten peach gets pitched at his head, causing him to stumble a bit. The guards, ever merciless, only tug on his shackles harshly and nearly make him fall flat on his face.

Shachhi lets out an angry shout, and Law watches as Penguin holds him back, straining against his husband. Ikkaku spits at the man, though, and goes down in a flurry of fists and screaming. Bepo is nowhere to be seen, and he is oddly okay with that. The polar bear is sensitive— it would be best if he didn’t see him die this way.

When Law gets to the steps of the gallows, an odd hush falls over the crowd. He knows it’s because they finally got a better view of him now, and are likely spending the time to really take in his admittedly miserable state. Or at least he thinks that’s what they’re doing, until he turns to look back at his friends, only to see a figure in a dark green cloak, finely embroidered with white leafy and floral details, and looking straight ahead as it marches down the path he had just walked. The vice-captain of the guard, Kizaru, who has to be present for all executions that take place in the capital city, pays no heed to the figure or the silence of the crowd and tiredly reads out the charges levied against him.

The hood falls, just as the figure reaches the foot of the gallows, as the noose is slipped over Law’s head, and there you stand, holding up your hand.

“I invoke my right to propose to this criminal, in the interest of bettering and upholding our justice system,” Your voice is steady. There is a roll of parchment in your upheld hand, “Here is the ancient law that states this right, should you need me to source the legal right I have to do this,”

Your eyes are filled with fire, be it fury or determination, Law does not know, but he does know that you look like you are going to throttle him when the two of you go behind closed doors. Bepo somehow appeared behind Shacchi, Penguin, and Ikkaku, looking extremely hopeful while the other three looked utterly baffled. The crowd is whispering amongst itself.

Kizaru only nods, reading the parchment after taking it delicately from your hand, and then gestures for the noose to be taken from Law’s neck, and the shackles unlocked, nudging him off the little stage.

“We shall discuss this in more detail tomorrow,” Kizaru sighs lazily, shooing Law and yourself away with a flick of his wrist, setting his chin against his other hand, and studying the two of you. “But for now… in the name of our great Empress, and by her divinely-appointed power, I ask the gods to bless your union and re-introduce you to our beloved creators as a married couple. Congratulations." Amusement twinkles in his eyes, before his mood suddenly sours, and he scowls, "...Now get out of my sight.”

The crowd riots the moment he dismisses you, and you drag Law by his wrist in the direction from which he had come not ten minutes earlier, expecting to be executed, only to leave alive, but married, as well. You only keep your gaze forward, cursing under your breath the entire time, the chaos of the botched execution sends the town square into chaos as the two of you disappear into the crowd.

#trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece x reader #one piece x you #law x you #law x yn #one piece x y/n #one piece insert #enemies to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers really #ao3 #not actually unrequited love #trafalgar one piece #soulmate au too ig

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hayakawalove · 1 year ago

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Test of Love (Chapter Seven)

Chapter Seven

All Chapters

Summary: You find someone you aren't expecting when walking with Suguru. Later, you and Satoru get sneaky.

A/N: Thank you for being so patient. I know it's taking awhile to get to the poly stuff, but I promise we're getting there. Just want it to feel natural as reader doesn't want to rush things. If I was her though I would be taking both at the same time within an hour of meeting them. This chapter made me a bit nervous, it feels a bit boring compared to other ones. I am pumped for the next chapter though, we're gonna get into some poly goodness. Comments always appreciated!

CW: Smut, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Praise, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Semi Public Sex, Bullying Sort Of, Mild Violence, Slightly Unnerving Feelings, Female Reader, AFAB Reader W/C: 7,146

Credit to benkeibear for the banner

For once, Suguru is up before Satoru. It’s pretty rare for that to happen. Normally, Satoru is up several hours before Suguru, and more often than not he’s out of the house before Suguru’s eyes even open. Suguru likes waking up first, it gives him the chance to cook for Satoru. He enjoys cooking for him as it ensures that Satoru is eating a proper meal. Satoru is a grown man, but you’d never be able to tell with his diet.

Suguru’s looking down at the stove when he hears Satoru pad into the room. His eyes are droopy with sleep and his mouth is open in a wide yawn.

“Hey sleepyhead.”

Suguru likes seeing Satoru like this. A slice of normalcy in an otherwise godly man.

Satoru grumbles back before sitting at the bar, watching as Suguru finishes cooking. Once he does, he makes a plate before sliding it to Satoru. Pancakes and eggs, Suguru would have preferred to make something more healthy but he knew Satoru would have complained.

Suguru leans against the counter with his mug in his hand. He takes his coffee black, letting the bitter taste slide down his throat. The flavor didn’t bother him, he was used to bitter things. It couldn’t be worse than the curses he swallowed on a regular basis.

Satoru is dousing his pancakes in syrup, eyes wide as he watches it cover the entirety of it. He takes several bites before reaching forward to grab the mug Suguru set out for him. It had coffee in it, the color slightly lighter than Suguru’s.

He adds a couple more sugar cubes in it, even though Suguru already added some, before stirring the drink. Suguru’s watching with his face pinched up as Satoru downs the drink.

“It’s not really coffee at that point.” Suguru mumbles.

“Tastes like coffee to me.”

“Does it?”

Satoru finishes his drink and stares at Suguru in defiance as he licks his top lip. Suguru chuckles and lifts his mug up to take another sip.

The apartment is quiet as Suguru stands next to Satoru while he finishes his breakfast. All Suguru wants to do is drag Satoru back to bed, but he knows he can’t.

As Suguru watches his boyfriend, he allows his mind to drift.

His mind drifts to you.

“I’m a bit shocked, Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t know what to expect from someone you had a crush on.” Suguru folds his arms. “Not that I really expected her to be normal, you like her after all.”

“Feels like you’re dissing yourself, but go on.”

“She’s better than I expected. You picked good.”

Suguru sees a small grin appear on Satoru’s lips before he sits up, jumping off the chair to stand to his full height. The two are the same height, but Suguru still feels small in Satoru’s presence sometimes. He’s bulkier than Satoru, but his boyfriend's attitude has always been larger than life.

“Careful, I might think you’re complimenting me.�� Satoru says.

“God forbid.” Suguru replies.

Suguru’s lips spread into a smile as does Satoru’s. The two stare at each other for a moment until Suguru reaches a hand up, fixing Satoru’s hair. He lets his thumb graze Satoru’s bottom lip, swiping away stray syrup. Satoru allows his cheek to nuzzle in Suguru’s palm, finding peace for a brief second before he’s faced with the reality of the day.

“I love you.” Suguru murmurs.

“I love you too.”

Satoru presses his lips against Suguru, and Suguru begins to think maybe he prefers sweetness over bitterness.

~~~

It’s Monday, the idea of a brand new week was making your shoulders sag. You had a great weekend, but now you were forced to go back to reality. How annoying. The day had gone by okay at least; in terms of craziness it was surprisingly mellow. The students didn’t have any missions, all they had to do was a couple of tests. You were grading them when you got a text message.

Suguru: hey

Suguru: have any plans for dinner?

You grin at your screen before picking your phone up.

You: no, I was just going to pick up something from town

Suguru: stop by our place instead, I can make a home cooked meal.

That sounded wonderful. Ever since you had met Suguru, you had been eating exponentially better. Before, you only ate boxed meals and that was only if you were lucky. You never had time to cook, your days were constantly filled with shit that needed to be done.

You breeze through the rest of grading in order to see him sooner. You’re practically jumping up and down by the time you slide from your classroom.

There was no reason to go home to change. You weren’t sure at what point in time you started to get more comfortable around the boys, but you no longer felt the need to dress up. You’ve already humiliated yourself in front of them enough to now feel at ease with them. Memories from your drunken mishap fill your mind and you try to shake them away.

Honestly, it was a miracle they still talked to you at all. You were mortified. But they didn’t seem too bothered.

Although Satoru has teased you about it multiple times so far, even though it happened only a couple days ago.

You’re standing in front of their front door when you see Suguru. He’s wearing a soft smile as he greets you, the smell of his cologne falling over you.

“Hey.” He says, leaning down as he holds your chin.

His lips press against yours, and your heart skips a beat. When he pulls away you have to avert your gaze in order to not pass out.

“You look beautiful.” He murmurs, gesturing you inside.

“You’re sweet. I'm just wearing my school uniform.”

“I think you could make anything beautiful.”

Ever the charmer.

You chuff and set your bags down, wandering to their kitchen. It was remarkably clean, but that didn’t surprise you. Every time you had been over it was almost impossible to find something out of place. It was hard to decide who was the cleanlier of the two.

Satoru was a neat person. Most people wouldn’t guess it due to his personality. You think it’s because of his childhood. A home that was sterile and clinical. It didn’t seem like a home at all. He had hired help growing up, so there was never a mess. You guess he probably got used to it.

Suguru just feels like he would hate mess. With his nearly maternal behaviors, it would surprise you if he was unorganized.

“That was smooth.” You respond, smiling as he follows you into the kitchen.

You can tell he’s been rummaging around, there were piles of food on the counter, none of which could make a comprehensive meal. Honestly, you would have been fine eating a bowl of ramen. Something tells you Suguru wouldn’t want something so boring, though.

“Good. I practiced, you know.” He replies with ease, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Suguru’s beginning to slide the food back into the cupboards, looking at you over his shoulder.

“We’re out of what we need for dinner tonight. I’m sorry. I was just going to go to the store to pick it up, then I can get started. You can stay here if you’d like.”

You watch his broad frame from behind. Tendons are lining his arms as he stretches across the counter. You never understood how people could look at art for hours, but you think you were starting to get it. Suguru was sculpted by the gods, you were sure of it. Hand picked features chosen down to the smallest detail. You could look at him for hours.

“No, I can go with you!” You rush out as you watch him.

You really didn’t want to be alone in their apartment.

His face lights up at your exclamation. How cute. It doesn’t take him long before he’s ready to head out. You follow shortly behind him as the two of you exit the apartment, making your way to the store. He grabs your hand the second he closes the front door. The protectiveness is heartwarming.

It feels entirely domestic how you go shopping together. Suguru’s large frame is leaned over a shopping cart as you roam the isles. He put you in charge of holding the shopping list, having you read out each ingredient the both of you needed. Suguru wanted to make Dutch oven chicken, which sounded way too fancy in your opinion, but the idea of it did make your mouth water.

“Is that everything?” He asks once the cart is full, peering over your shoulder.

The proximity leaves you breathless, and you have to clear your throat to avoid groaning.

“Yeah. I think so.” When you turn your head he looks much closer than you expected.

“Alright. What kind of treat do you want?”

“Treat?”

“Yeah. Everytime I go shopping I buy Satoru something sweet. He complains if I don’t. And it’s cute to see how excited he gets when I do bring something home. Do you want something sweet or salty?”

Your eyes look up in thought as you follow him to the junk food aisle. It was really starting to feel like you were ingrained in their relationship. You didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it just felt so right. Part of you was worried they would get tired of your presence, but you knew they wouldn’t keep you around if that was the case.

Suguru’s browsing the shelves of chocolate in front of him, chin propped between his fingers. He looks deep in thought as he decides which treat to get Satoru, and your eyes constantly flick over to him before looking back at the food in front of you.

You want to tell him how much you like him, but you can’t find the words. They’re lurking in the back of your throat, seconds from spilling over your lips.

“Are you ready?” Suguru asks, ripping you from your thoughts.

“Yeah!”

You decide to just get a packet of M&Ms, small and cheap, while Suguru picks out Reese’s for Satoru.

He allows you to carry one bag after much begging on your part, but he does most of the heavy lifting.

Suguru’s pace is slow as you walk beside him, making your way back to his apartment. He could be walking much faster with those ridiculously long legs of his, so you find it sweet that he’s lingering for you.

“I’m starving…” You whine, eyes drifting to the street food vendors lining the sidewalks.

The smell of some of them was causing your head to swirl.

“I’m sorry, I could buy you something small to tide you over until dinners ready.”

“Really? You aren’t scared it would spoil my appetite?”

“Yeah, I can't have you starving to death.” He begins. “Plus I can’t say no to spoiling you.”

Your eyes dart away as he grins.

“Which one do you want?” He stops in his tracks as you review your options.

You look around to find a vendor that has the shortest line. It's a bit difficult as there were crowds at each one, but there was one close that sold traditional Japanese food that didn’t look too crowded.

The two of you walk over and wait in line.

You release a sigh and rest your head against Suguru’s arm, beginning to let your mind glaze over.

“Is Satoru joining us tonight?” You ask, half expecting him to say no.

“Yeah, he’s just finishing some things up at the school first.”

An image of sharing a dinner with the two of them flashes in your brain and your stomach fills with excitement.

You let your eyes wander around, listening as Suguru talks. Admittedly, you were beginning to daze off at the sound of his voice. It was so comforting that your mind was turning off.

When you look in front of you to the right, you see something. There’s a man who looks strangely familiar behind a woman. His eyes are flicking up rapidly to watch her as he reaches a hand out.

Fire.

A small flame bursts from his hands, small enough that no one except you notices. He holds the fire to her left sleeve, causing her head to snap down at the heat. As she does so, he grabs the purse from her right hand while she’s distracted.

“Hey-“ you step forward.

The man jolts at your attention. You lock eyes for a split second before he’s turning around and running away.

“What? Suguru, I'll be right back!” Your feet carry you in the same direction of the man.

He’s fast. He reminds you a bit of a dog with the way he carefully weaves between crowds of people in an attempt to lose you. Adrenaline is rushing through your veins, your throat dry from the chase.

He turns down an alley and you have no choice but to follow him. The bag you’re holding slips from your hands as you speed towards him. It's dark and dingy as you skid down the alley. Exactly the kind of place where you’d run into unsavory people.

Where was he?

You turn around and something hits the side of your face. He punched you. Iron fills your mouth as you fly your arm out, making contact with his cheek. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten in a fist fight with someone. He’s bigger than you, so you’re forced to use your speed to your advantage.

You swear you know him, his name is on the tip of your tongue.

Your elbow darts out, hitting him in the chest. He coughs loudly and you use the short moment of pause to tackle him to the ground.

It’s hard to tell how many times you’ve hit him. Your arm winds back to punch him again before something stops you.

Pain.

Something is grabbing your hair, yanking you back. You shout in agony as you blindly reach behind, trying to figure out what got you.

There’s another man, his fist holding your hair in a tight grip. The guy beneath you scrambles to his feet as you thrash around.

Guess it’s time to use your technique. How annoying.

All of a sudden the pressure is released from your head and you’re able to breathe again.

Someone else is in the alley now.

Suguru.

He had used his technique to pin the man holding your hair against the wall. He’s squirming under Suguru’s curses and you can't help but marvel. It was the first time you had seen him use his technique.

Remembering the other man, you quickly turn around and pin him back down, looking up at Suguru.

It seemed so effortless for him, meanwhile you were panting from the hard work.

“Thank you.” You heave out.

Suguru’s eyes drop to you and you feel your stomach turn. His stare was so cold. So this is what he looked like in battle? It’s a bit scary, he was nearly unrecognizable.

As soon as you catch the glimpse of the Sorcerer side of Suguru, he’s already switched back to the personality you’re used to. He grins at you before looking back at the attackers.

“Who are you?” Suguru asks.

You look down to the man beneath you and it finally clicks. It was Mahiro, the fire user you and Satoru had talked about. It was a coincidence you ran into him like this.

If this was Mahiro, then who was the other guy?

“Suguru, this is the guy who’s been attacking the school.”

The two men look at each other, they looked a bit helpless.

Suguru’s eyes light up as he stares at them, you watch in real time as he makes the connection. You have so many questions to ask the two of them, but more than anything you just wanted to know why. Why were they threatening the school? Why now?

“We should bring them to Jujutsu High. We can question them there.” Suguru’s pulling out his phone to dial someone, likely an assistant.

~~~

When you get to the school, it’s completely quiet. Most people had gone home or to their dorms. The only people wandering about were principal Yaga and Satoru, who’s whereabouts you weren’t even sure of.

“Thank you.” Yaga nods you off as he closes the door to one of the rooms holding the prisoners.

As he closes the door, you’re able to catch one last glance at the second man, your eyes locking before the door slams shut.

The two men were locked in different cells, waiting for further questioning. They might have to wait until tomorrow because of how busy everyone was, but you didn't care at all.

Suguru had accompanied you in dropping them off, but left shortly after. I need to take the groceries home, he told you. It almost seemed like he was in a rush to leave the campus. You wonder if it makes him uncomfortable to wander the halls from his childhood.

The adrenaline was catching up to you now, you could feel the ache in your body begin to settle. There’s blood running down your nose and you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was starting to swell. The life of a sorcerer was rough, all you wanted to do was relax tonight with Suguru and Satoru, however it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen.

You’re standing in the bathroom, dabbing a wet paper towel against your nose when the door swings open.

Satoru.

“Hey.” He speaks, looking at you in the mirror.

It's weird like this. Seeing him in his uniform and blindfold makes you feel separated. He isn't Satoru when he’s dressed like this. He’s Gojo, the strongest sorcerer who’s currently living. The difference in your abilities is glaringly obvious.

You try to remind yourself he’s just Satoru, your Satoru.

Even if you weren’t sure if he was yours at all.

“Hey.” You reply, wincing as the towel bumps your nose.

Luckily, you weren’t as swollen as you expected yourself to be, but there was dried blood everywhere.

Satoru strolls up to you, hips leaning against the counter. He grabs the paper towel from your hand and tilts your face up, sliding the towel where you were holding it. He’s wiping your blood away, trying not to bump your nose.

“I can do it myself, you know.”

“I know.” He says, but doesn’t stop.

“You were hot out there.” Satoru goes on.

“You weren’t even there.”

“Didn't have to be, Suguru told me about it. Sexy of you to beat the shit out of a man.”

You chuckle and glance at his face. His hair looked soft to the touch, his skin perfect.

Focus.

Memories flood your mind of the fight. You didn’t do that good. Suguru had to save your ass, you weren’t sure if you would’ve made it if he didn’t come. At the very least they would have escaped.

“I don't know about that. Suguru helped.”

“Sure he helped, but you’re the one who noticed Mahiro. And you chased after him. It takes a lot of balls to chase after someone when you don’t know what they’re capable of, or if they’re even alone. And I know you don’t have balls.”

Satoru cracks a smile when he hears you laugh. He’s making it difficult to mope, the heavy weight of inadequacy on your shoulders being overshadowed by his proximity.

“I'm serious, I wonder how other sorcerers get anything done with the two of you around.”

“We’re strong, but we need people like you too.”

Satoru tosses the paper towel away and admires his work before washing his hands.

“Sure.” You chuckle.

“And you’re strong too.”

“Would you like me if I was weak?” You allow the question to hang in the air.

“You aren’t weak.”

Satoru holds your hip before he leans down to place his lips on yours. There’s still a faint taste of iron in your mouth, but it doesn't seem to bother Satoru. His fingers wrap around your hips in such a way that makes you dizzy. You knew they were long, but it never failed to make you swoon.

You run your fingers through his hair and chuckle at the whine he lets out. Satoru was a touchy person. At first it didn’t really make sense to you. He spent a large portion of his life trying to make it so people couldn’t touch him, but then you realized that that was why he wanted it so badly. He craved intimacy in a way most people took for granted. It made you sad. Whenever you thought about his circumstances for too long you got sad, though.

Satoru must notice that your mind is getting off track, his voice comes out low as he speaks.

“Hey, I’m right here.” It sounds like a jest, reminding you of his presence. As if he’s saying don’t ignore me. But it also sounds like he said it to remind you. Don’t veer too far off track. It's all okay. I'm here.

His tongue twirls against yours and you’re running out of breath. It’s distracting you from the pain beneath your skin, so you don't care. He places both hands on your waist and lifts you up until you’re placed on the counter.

A clattering in the halls breaks you from the heat of the moment. Yaga must’ve just walked by.

“Satoru, we should stop.” You reluctantly pull away and look up at him.

Even when you’re sitting on the counter, he’s still much taller than you.

“Why?” He sounds genuinely confused as he asks this.

You scoff and look towards the door then back at him.

“We’re at school.”

“So?”

His lips are slick with your spit and it’s raising the temperature of your body. You wonder if the six eyes can see that.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I'm never not serious.” He replies.

You squint at him as your mouth drops open slightly. You weren’t sure he was ever completely serious. Satoru leans back and locks the door before pushing himself up against you once more. Your head backs away in an attempt to create distance between you two, but you can’t run far as the mirror stops you.

“Careful, don't wanna hurt yourself now.” He murmurs.

Your throat is dry at the sound of his voice. His hand comes up to hold your face as he presses his lips against yours, sloppy sounds filling the bathroom.

Your body almost aches at the way your heart was racing.

It’s hard to deny yourself any longer. You wrap your legs around him to bring him in as close as possible. He offers a sly grin against your lips as you fall into his trap.

Satoru pulls away to kiss down your neck, biting when he pleases. You’re worried the taste of your skin is bitter from fighting earlier, knowing sweat covered your body, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he almost seems drunk on the taste.

You’re debating how nude you want to get in this dingy bathroom when Satoru steps away, his hands gripping the tops of your pants. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking behind his blindfold. He yanks your pants and underwear down until they hit the floor and you have half the mind to scold him.

Satoru shuts you up before you even have the chance to complain. He’s crouching in front of you, tongue darting out to swipe through your pussy. He looks a bit awkward beneath you, his frame much too large to be huddled between your legs in this bathroom.

Your hands hastily grip at his hair, your thighs shaking from pleasure. A brief thought crosses your mind, hopefully you weren’t being too loud. You would try to quiet yourself down, but you knew Satoru would only see that as a challenge to make you louder.

You tilt your head back and let your eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation of his mouth latching onto your clit. His fingers dig into your skin, a dull pain throbbing through your thighs.

You decide you like when he makes it hurt.

Moans fill the bathroom, bouncing off the walls. His tongue doesn’t let up for even a second, gliding from your clit to your hole. He was so good at it, it almost made you mad. Leave it to Satoru to be perfect at everything.

“Satoru-“ you’re groaning, fingers tangled in a mess of wispy clouds, pulling each time he crosses over a tender spot.

You aren’t sure where he’s looking, or if he’s even looking at all. You wonder if he was watching the way your face pinches, moans falling freely from your lips as if you were in the privacy of your own home, or if he was watching your swollen sex, needy for him.

Once upon a time he told you that even when his eyes were closed he could still see everything. You weren’t sure if he was being honest at the time, but you were starting to believe him. He was navigating your body too well if his eyes were closed.

The counter is cold beneath you as you fly your hands back to try to keep yourself steady. The discomfort is no match for the way he’s making you feel. You moan out as he pulls his lips away, strings of your slick connecting the two of you. You bite your cheek at the sight, forcing yourself to look away.

“You getting all shy on me now?” He teases. “It’s a bit late for that.”

“I'm not shy-“

Satoru stands up to his full height before dropping his face in front of yours. He’s so close you can smell the musk on his lips.

He doesn’t lick them clean.

“Yeah? I don’t make you embarrassed?”

“No, why would you make me-“ you begin, eyes still facing to the side.

You feel something slide between your lower lips, then you’re met with the blunt tip of his cock pushing at your entrance. Your hands fly up to grab his shirt, looking down at where he slowly slides himself inside of you.

“Then look at me.” He orders.

You moan as he pushes himself fully inside. If you look at him, he’d be able to see how embarrassed you were. You couldn’t let him win. Then again, you weren’t completely sure he couldn’t see how fast your heart was beating now.

When you look up at Satoru, he begins to slowly fuck you. The angle makes it so his cock drags against your gspot each and every time. You think his eyebrows must be furrowed by the crease in his mask, but you can’t be too sure.

You jump to the conclusion that if he got to see you, you wanted to see him as well.

“Satoru, your blindfold.” You moan.

His pace falters before he’s grinning. He reaches up to tug at the blindfold.

“Want to see my eyes while I fuck you?”

Satoru pulls the blindfold until it’s laying around his neck. Clear blues look at you, and you have to stop yourself from swaying. You must’ve clenched because Satoru’s laughing. He picks up the speed and holds your waist as he fucks into you. You try to maintain eye contact with him, you really do, but the task is proving to be nearly impossible.

With every thrust your lids flutter, the pleasure is almost too much.

“So perfect.” Satoru murmurs to himself as he stares at the expressions on your face. ”Tell me how it feels.” He all but begs.

“Feels so, oh fuck,”

“Come on baby.” He holds your legs open as he groans.

“So good, so good.” You say.

Satoru wets his bottom lip with his tongue, and he reaches his hand out to slide against your clit.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

You follow his orders and squeeze his hips.

“There you go, you’re so talented.”

Is he teasing you?

You don’t mind.

His finger brushes against your clit and your mouth drops open. You’re about to moan when his other hand darts up to cover your mouth.

“I know it feels good, but we can’t be too noisy, right?”

He’s staring into your eyes as he circles your clit. You shake your head ‘no’ and look up at him with wide eyes, your ankles bumping his back.

You don’t have enough oxygen like this, but you think that’s what makes it feel even better. Satoru keeps his eyes on yours as he rubs your clit, his thrusting starting to get irregular. You rest your hands behind you to stabilize yourself.

Close, close.

Satoru speeds his thumb up, trying to make you cum first.

Your foot rapidly taps his back to warn him of your oncoming orgasm, and he wordlessly promises to guide you through it.

Your eyes roll back and he watches as you fall apart in his hold, your pussy cumming around him as your body begs him for his release.

He’s having a hard time remaining quiet himself, small grunts coming out of his filtered lips.

You bat your eyelashes as you look up at him, a lust filled haze settling over you. He maintains eye contact with you as his lips pop open, letting out a grunt that’s too loud falling from his mouth. Liquid fills you from the inside out, a fuzzy feeling over taking you. His body is twitching as he rests his forehead against your shoulder, his breath sliding against your skin.

If only you weren’t in this shitty bathroom. You really want to lay with him, but you have to face the hallways of your work.

He grunts and pulls away, eyes drawn to the way his cum begins to seep from you. Something flashes across his features, a spark lighting up his eyes and a twitch of his lips. Your heart flutters, but you would never admit that to him. He was already cocky enough.

“Guess I need to clean you up again, huh?” He chuckles and tucks himself away before pulling paper towels up to swipe through your folds.

You cringe at the feel of it and look away. You probably weren’t going to be able to see those the same way again. Satoru tosses the used paper towels in the garbage before offering you his hand, assisting you in hopping off the counter. You glare at your discarded pants on the floor, muttering to yourself as you pick them up. Did he really have to put them on the ground?

When you look his way again, you can’t find it in yourself to be angry. Satoru has a goofy grin on his face as he pulls his blindfold back over his eyes. You try not to appear too disappointed. The more often you saw his eyes, the more often you felt greedy. You cursed the world for giving him such a gift, only to force him to hide it.

He follows you out of the bathroom and you’re thanking god Yaga isn't near. That was a conversation you really didn’t want to have.

The halls of Jujutsu High at night are different than they are during the day time. The school isn't densely populated by any means, but when the sun is up you can at least hear distant laughter, or yelling depending on the person, and the atmosphere feels different. It’s light, the sun shines through the windows and you almost forget where you are.

At night, that all changes. You’re forced to remember where you are, and who has walked down these halls. Faces of classmates and teachers you would never see again, knowing there was a very real chance you would join the ranks among them. The lights don't flicker though, which is a plus, but you almost wish they did. Jujutsu High had enough money that everything was always working. It only added to the way it all felt fake, like it was frozen in time.

A shiver runs up your spine and you nearly jump when Satoru brushes behind you. What were you scared of? You fought curses everyday. Maybe you were scared that there weren’t any curses right now. That usually meant something was lurking behind you.

Satoru’s looking down at his phone, looking at a message.

“Suguru texted.” He tells you. “He said dinner is almost ready.”

Satoru types out a response before looking back up at you.

There was nothing left for you to do at the school. The interrogations would start tomorrow, and Satoru would be the one holding them.

“Is there anything else we need to do here?” You question, clenching and unclenching your fists at your sides.

“Not unless you wanna go another round in the supply closet.” Satoru says with a smile, slipping his phone in his pocket.

You scoff and nudge him before walking down the hallway, hoping he was following you.

You hear his soft foot fall behind you and you let your shoulders sag from relief. He’s walking behind you, joking around but you don’t really hear him.

Why are you so uncomfortable right now?

The school usually made you uncomfortable at night, but it was worse tonight. Your skin crawls as you try to walk straight, keeping your head held high in spite of the fear.

“There you are. Was wondering where you two were.”

You jump in your spot a bit before turning your head, eyes meeting Yaga.

You feel Satoru’s gaze on the back of your head but you pay him no mind.

“What’s up?” You ask.

“You two are good to go home. The two curse users should be fine overnight.” Yaga seems a bit distracted, you can only assume it’s because the people who’ve been after the school have been apprehended.

Satoru waves off Yaga before dragging you to the teachers lounge. He barely gives you enough time to grab everything before he’s pulling you outside. He’s telling you it’s because he’s starving, which can’t be true. He had half his weight in food during lunch.

He talks to you for most of the way to his house. You’re grateful as it takes your mind off the interviews that would begin tomorrow.

~~~

“We're home!” Satoru yells.

You try not to let the way he included you in the same sentence as home warm you up too much. This isn't your home after all.

But it could be.

Suguru rounds the corner and you have to bite back a smile. His hair is pulled up and he’s wearing an apron. He looks so domesticated.

He slides up to Satoru and pulls him into a hug, sharing a kiss. You avert your eyes because really, you didn’t know if you were allowed to look. Sure, you’ve had sex with them, but being with them individually was much more different than being thrust in the middle.

Once Suguru is finished kissing Satoru, he faces you. He grips your chin and tilts your head up until your eyes meet his. He presses a kiss on your forehead, making you smile. You don't see the way his nostrils twitch and the glance he sends Satoru’s way.

“It’s ready, why don't you go sit at the table and Satoru and I can bring it out.”

You bite back a retort of wanting to help, something tells you Suguru wouldn’t have any of it. When you get to the table you can tell that they don't have too many visitors over. The table has four chairs, but only two of them are worn, one more so than the other.

Satoru comes in with two plates, a large grin on his face. He sets yours down in front of you and digs into his the second he sits beside you. It looked amazing. Suguru really was an amazing cook. The two of the boys were so talented, you wouldn’t believe it if someone told you they couldn’t do something.

Suguru sets his plate down and sits across from you, his fox eyes settled on your face. Fear, no, anticipation flows through your body as you meet his eyes.

“How was your day? After we dropped the two off.” He asks.

He doesn’t start eating until you do.

“It was good.” You leave out the part where the school made you unnerved.

“Mahiro wouldn’t stop talking, including after we locked him up. The other one…”

You remember the other man. He was quiet. From the moment you saw him to the moment you chained him down, he was silent.

“Didn't talk at all.” You pause in eating, staring at your plate.

“He talked. Only once though.” Satoru says, pushing his plate in front of him.

He was done?

“Hold on, huh?” Your eyes fly up to him. He looks unbothered, head resting on his fist.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Suguru.”

Suguru’s eye twitches as he leans back, silent as Satoru continues to talk.

“He only said one thing. He said he would only talk to you.”

The table quiets down as the knowledge settles over you and Suguru. Why hadn’t Satoru told you? Then again, it’s not like it would’ve really mattered.

“That's all he said.” Satoru speaks. “You don't have to obviously, but, I think you should.”

You wonder why he wants to talk to Suguru so bad. Was it because he got his ass kicked by him? Jujutsu users alike all either jumped at the chance to talk to Satoru, or were afraid of him. But something was telling you this guy wasn’t afraid of Satoru.

“I’ll do it.”

Satoru grins and looks back to you.

“You can interview Mahiro with me if you like.”

You think about what you’d like to ask Mahiro as you eat. You aren’t really sure what to investigate. Your job was strictly educational, only leaving the classroom to assist students with missions. It might be a little exciting to do something different.

Satoru takes turns talking to you and Suguru as you eat, occasionally forcing both of you to listen as he goes on tangents. It was a bit cute like this. Each time he started to talk about a subject he was passionate about, he would grow a large smile and he practically bounced in his seat.

You check your phone as Satoru is talking and you notice the time. It was past 10 pm. Not too late, but way later than you were meaning to stay.

“Is something wrong?” Suguru asks.

“Just a bit late is all. I need to figure out how to get home.” You really didn’t feel like walking the streets or sitting in a subway.

“Why don't you just stay the night?” Suguru proposes.

He softly laughs at your expression, standing up to grab your empty plate.

“You’ve done it before. You can also use our shower.” Suguru leaves before you can further debate him.

You didn’t want to intrude, although it did sound nice.

“That's a great idea! You’re okay with it, right?” Satoru jumps to his feet and skirts around the table.

He takes your hand into his and pulls you along, pulling you into the direction of their bedroom.

“I-I guess so.” You murmur and look around.

The lamps are low, casting the bedroom in a dim warm glow. You can feel your body growing tired just from being in the presence.

“You can just use whatever in the shower. Suguru’s got some nice stuff in there, although he won’t let me touch it.” Satoru goes on and turns around to flip the light switch on in the bathroom.

It’s fairly big. There’s a standing shower with see through walls, and a large bathtub to the side. You find yourself feeling jealous as you look around.

“Is it really okay if I stay?” You ask.

“Yeah, definitely.” Satoru twirls around and looks you up and down.

“Okay.”

“I’ll let you get to it then!” He exits.

You take your time in sliding your clothes off, carefully putting them on the toilet lid. You had to admit, it would be nice to take a shower here and not have to travel tonight.

The water spouts out from the shower head, coating you in the warmth. You allow your eyes to drift closed as you stand there for several moments, soaking it up. Reluctantly, you open your eyes and search around for shampoo.

Once you’re done, you step out and wrap a fluffy towel around your body. It was so soft. You nuzzle against it then your eyes fly open.

You don't have any clothes.

You could wear your dirty clothes, but the idea made you cringe.

Maybe Satoru was getting you something to wear?

The room is quiet as you open the bathroom door. Neither of them are there, so you step out, holding the towel tight around your body.

“Satoru?” You raise your voice.

There’s shuffling from outside the room, and Satoru pops in. He’s wearing a black shirt with boxers. His eyes are exposed as he looks you up and down.

“My bad, I was gonna find something for you to wear. Unless of course you don’t want to wear anything.” He taunts.

“A tshirt and shorts will do.” You laugh.

“Well, it was worth a shot.” Satoru gives an exaggerated pout.

You chuckle and stand still as he goes over to his dresser. Even in his own house, he looks abnormally tall next to everything.

The view from behind is great.

He turns around and strides up to you, holding out a shirt, shorts, and even underwear. He’s holding them in his palm, but when you try to pull them away from him he doesn’t let go. You try one more time but he doesn’t budge, instead he’s staring at you with a grin.

Satoru leans down and presses his lips against yours. They’re plush on yours, his tongue slightly sticking out to graze against your lips.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him down, pressing your chest against his.

The door creaks open and Suguru walks in.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have-“ he stops speaking as he sees you and Satoru.

The room is devoid of any sounds as the three of you stare at each other. You can’t tell if he’s trying to comprehend the situation, or if he’s trying to soak up the sight.

“I’m sorry, I’ll go.” He quickly says, backing away.

It was sweet. He was respecting your wishes. They knew you wanted to take it slow so you could warm up to them. You didn’t want to drown in them right away. But maybe you were ready.

“Suguru-“ you begin.

“Stay.”

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