#credit for divider: saradika - graphics

[generalsdiary]

you brought your partner a flower bouquet. it isn’t something they often receive, and you felt a desire to change that. being a solemn, thoughtful person after thanking you they said;

“yes… it is sad that I’ll have to watch them die.” “they started dying the moment they were picked. kind of like humans, from the age of 25 their bodies officially begin to die.” upon hearing your words they look back at you, sharing a knowing look. “that is too short. I…” they clench their jaw for a moment. “humans have too short of a life span. we- I will find a way” soft, whispered words flowing between you two like a breeze on an early spring morning.

depending on the context behind their words, that perhaps brought you joy, that your loved one would go above and beyond to have as much time as possible with you. or it filled you with fear, knowing their history with such ways of life manipulation.

“no matter how much time we have, we will be alright. I cherish every moment I get with you. and once I’m gone-“

“please don’t say that.” their voice fell to a broken whisper. noticing the change in their body language, you moved closer, cupping their face, and matching their quiet tone you said, “let’s stay in the present. I’m right here, living and breathing. focus on me, on my heart,” you take their hand and place their palm on your chest. “on how it beats for you. for us.”

Dan Heng, Jingliu, Blade, Dan Feng, Neuvillette, Xiao, Wanderer, Scaramouche, Capitano

divider cr: @saradika

[twst-star]

◜ꜝꜝ (not-so-secret) Nurse Visit ☓ ⤸ [first yrs]

⊹ characters; (seperate, first yrs) Ace T., Deuce S., Jack H., Epel F., Sebek Z. ⊹ cw; injuries mentioned (foot, stomach ache, ankle, wrist)-- no details, established relationship, gn!reader, romantic nicknames (toward character), not proof read, ⊹ notes; i'm still learning most personalities from the first yrs.. but u gotta start somewhere :') haven't done a smau in SO LONG!!! but i wanna come back, so here i am in twst <3

Ace Trappola ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Deuce Spade ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Jack Howl ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Epel Flemier ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Sebek Zigvolt ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Do not copy, remake, repost, or translate any of my works © 2025 twst-star on Tumblr, all rights reserved

[captainpriceslilwife]

pt. 3 of gaz x insecure!reader :)))))

[part 1, part 2, part 3]

He’s late.

He went through all that trouble of convincing you of how genuine he was about taking you on a date, just to be late. 

He just wanted to do something nice for you. Something to actually make you smile in his presence instead of tense up or cry, but the universe seems to work against him when it comes to making you happy. Which is how he ended up here – desperately trying to buy flowers from the old Scottish woman on the street corner that he’s certain has been around since the Cambrian age. He really needs to stop taking Johnny’s advice. 

“How much for the sunflowers, ma’am?” He’s been trying to be as polite as he can, but the poor woman doesn’t seem to notice how his hand is tapping nervously at his thigh or how he checks his watch every two seconds. She just hobbles around with a smile, pointing at all of the other flowers on her stand and telling him some long-winded story of her youth about each of them.

“Eh?” Oh, and she was deaf in one ear. Something that wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t have to keep repeating himself every single time he asked a question. “Wha’ did ye say, luvie?”  “The sunflowers.” He enunciates impatiently as he leans towards her right ear, only for her to blink in confusion at him. “How much?”  A wide smile breaks out on her face as she gestures to the bucket of sunflower bouquets, and Kyle softens a bit now that he thinks he can finally finish this up. Maybe he might even make it on time if he really books it…

 “Ah, ye can take as many as ye’d like!” 

Christ.

“No, no-“ A tense sigh escapes his lips as he takes out his wallet, trying to get it in her frame of vision before he loses her attention again. “Money. How much money?” But she’s not even looking at him anymore. Her white, fluffy brows are furrowed like she’s deep in thought, and she’s got her eye on one of the giant displays of pink and red flowers next to him. “Say, didn’ ye say this is fer yer girl? Ah still think she’d like some roses instead…more romantic, ya ken? Ah’ve got plenty different ones for ye, just gimme a wee second. Ye really should take a look-”  “No, ma’am, please…I-I don’t have a second.” He’s starting to wonder if he should just give up, but the thought of showing up late and empty-handed makes him feel so guilty that it makes his stomach lurch. “Please, I just want to pay for the…” But it’s too late. She’s already toddled off behind the cart, hunched over and spouting some story about how her late husband bought her roses every Sunday. “…the sunflowers.” 

He can only imagine what you must be thinking right now. 

And then there’s you. 

You, who had gotten up embarrassingly early that morning to get ready for your date. You had cursed yourself for agreeing to meet him so early as you rushed around your room, trying to pick out an outfit and do your hair in a way that made you feel like you looked alright without drawing too much attention to yourself. You had changed five times – constantly questioning if you looked like you put too much effort in – so you put even more effort into dulling yourself down. 

You even had to give yourself a pep talk in the mirror before you could gather the courage to leave the house. 

You’re okay. This is okay. This is what normal people do. They go on dates. If he sucks, you can just leave! That’s allowed…yeah…yeah, I can just leave. And I look good…I look…great. It’s his loss! Well, he hasn’t lost anything yet, but-

And now here you were – poor thing. All alone at one of the tables in the corner with a cup of coffee in front of you.

You were already a ball of nervous energy when you had walked in – messing with your hair and fixing your outfit every couple of seconds as you hovered around the entrance, looking around and waiting for him. You lit up when you're phone dinged with a notification, but your smile fell as quickly as it came when you read the words. 'I'm running a bit late, but I'll be there soon, I swear'

Oh.

It really is a prank. He’s not coming.

You could feel your hands trembling as you looked down at your phone, feeling utterly betrayed as those tiny black words stared back at you. 

What’s even worse is the fact that you realize that you feel betrayed by yourself, not him. You should have known better; you should have known that this would happen. Your brain preens at the realization that it was right – you weren’t someone worth his time - but your heart begins to develop that familiar ache it's gotten so accustomed to.

‘I’m so sorry, love. I’m nearly there, I promise.’

You can feel your eyes begin to brim with tears, but you can hear a tiny little voice in the back of your head telling you to wait for him - just to see. Maybe he really is running late. Maybe something came up. Maybe he's just as nervous as you are and he took to long to get ready.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Maybe you're just the idiot that can't seem to learn her lesson.

You take in a sharp inhale, steeling yourself as much as you can as you slip your phone into your purse, ignoring the incessant buzzing coming from within as you make your way inside the coffee shop.

You had spent so long getting ready - you weren't about to go home and waste all of your hard work just because of some idiot guy. No...you'd get yourself the coffee that you had been excited for.

Because you're all you have.

All you'll ever have, apparently.

You try to seem casual as you place your order, but even the barista can hear the waver in your voice and the way you look around the coffee shop, like you're waiting for some hidden group of friends to come out and laugh at you - the punchline to some sick joke.

But nothing comes, except for your coffee, which you take and shuffle over to some secluded corner where you can wallow on your own. Luckily for you, nobody seems to pay you any mind, even when the tears you had been holding back finally begin to slip down your cheeks and you have to take a sip your coffee to stop the sob that threatens to escape from your lips.

You're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't notice his form sprinting past the window beside you, but your head snaps up when the bell above the door jangles abruptly and the door slams against the wall.

Your heart practically leaps from your chest when you see how disheveled he looks - chest heaving as he wipes the sweat from his forehead, and he has...flowers. Sunflowers, to be specific. Your favorite.

He brought you flowers?

He stands in the doorway - ignoring the disapproving look that the barista sends his way as his head swivels around to look for you.

You begin to wipe at your tears hastily, partially hiding yourself from view as you curse quietly to yourself for ruining the makeup you had worked so hard on that morning.

Once his eyes land on you, you can see his eyes flash with relief before he begins to make his way over to you - murmuring politely 'excuse me' 'sorry, love' 'right behind you, darling' as he pushes through the tables that lie between the two of you.

“You’re still here! Oh thank god…here.” He pants breathlessly, holding out the sunflowers, which you take hesitantly – and he tries not to fall to his knees to beg for forgiveness when he sees the red rim beneath your eyes, or when he hears you sniffle quietly. "Oh, god, love…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I-"

You wave your hand pathetically, trying to brush off the fact that you had been crying - but for some reason you can't stop your lip from wobbling once more, though this time it was because of something you've never felt before. Something you couldn't name. But it felt like some old version of you was finally getting what she deserved.

Someone who actually liked her.

And poor Kyle - he can see how you're eyes are growing glossy again, and he thinks he's ruined absolutely everything.

"Ah, shit…” He motions to the bouquet pathetically, silently trying to communicate why it took him so long to get there, but he feels more and more like an idiot the longer he looks at it. 

It’s not enough. 

Maybe if he was late because of a thousand bouquets, he’d feel less guilty, but right now? Seeing you with tears streaming down your pretty face? 

He wishes someone had run him over when he ran through oncoming traffic to get to you.

“Flowers. I was just trying to bring you flowers, a-and the woman – she was so old.” He blubbers, clearly still out of breath as he rests his hands against his hips, but he still scrambles over himself to try to explain the situation – honestly, he feels like he might faint with how flustered he is. “I wanted to do something nice for you, you know? Just to, you know...make up for everything. A-And I asked my idiot friend for advice, and I swear he must have it out for me – recommending a family friend…a bloody Mrs. Gillies-“

And the whole time he’s stumbling over his words, he’s just waiting for the moment where you stand up and throw those flowers right back in his face. Maybe your coffee for good measure. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, but his rambling immediately comes to a halt when he sees your wobbling lips stretch into a smile. 

You’re smiling. 

You’re smiling. 

Why on earth are you smiling?

He’s frozen in shock as he blinks down at you, and he swears his heart comes to a stop when you choke out a little laugh. 

Oh, god, he’s done it now. You’ve lost it. He’s gone and made you absolutely lose your mind. 

Your teary eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful, watery smile that knocks the wind right out of him like a swift punch to the gut. It’s not until you open your mouth that his hands stop shaking, and he finally understands what mercy feels like.

“Mrs. Gillies?” You giggle out through your tears, bringing your hand up to wipe at your damp cheeks. You don’t seem like you’re mad at him. You should be, honestly – even he’s mad at himself. “Oh...well, no wonder you were late. She’s, uh…certainly a talker. I used to work with her when I was a teenager…surprised she’s still alive, honestly.”

He’s never felt himself relax so quickly in his life. 

His shoulders drop as he lets out a breathless chuckle, thanking whatever god was listening that he hasn’t entirely screwed this up. He rubs the back of his neck nervously before he sits down across from you, flashing you a smile that shows how guilty he’s still feeling.

“God, I feel like such a prick. She just kept going on and on and I was losing my head thinking of you waiting on me, so I just…I just left her fifty quid and took the flowers while her back was turned.” 

The laugh you let out is music to his ears, and he swears he must look like a love-struck puppy as he watches you lift your hand to cover up your sweet smile. One that he had worked so hard to try to pull out of you, even if you're still wiping the leftover tears away from your eyes.

He’ll get you to stop hiding it soon.

“You know, I bet she hasn’t even noticed that you left.” You keep your voice low as you lean in, like you’re scared she’ll somehow hear you speaking poorly of her, but it doesn’t stop you from giggling quietly to yourself. “She’s probably talking to a couple of lilies right now, thinking it’s you.” 

The corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smirk as his eyes roam over your face, trying to take in every detail of the gorgeous smile pulling at your lips - the one that he finally gets the privilege to see. “Lilies? I’ll be honest, love, I always struck myself as the rose type.”

It’s such a stupid joke – one that he silently curses himself for the second it leaves his mouth – but you laugh so genuinely that he feels like the sun has burrowed itself in his chest. He knows he's gone the moment he realizes he'd do anything in the world to hear that sound spill from your lips just one more time.

“You look gorgeous, by the way. Absolutely stunning. Did you- you curled your hair didn't you? It looks nice..."

And instead of tensing up like you did before when he tried to compliment you, your smile turns shy and you hide your blush behind your mug as you take a sip - murmuring a bashful 'thank you' in response.

He feels like he could take over the bloody world with the way his chest swells in pride.

But his eyes flit down to your drink as you place it back down on the table, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear as you try to work up the courage to glance back up at him.

"That the drink I owe you?" He nudges his chin to gesture towards the coffee in your hands, still feeling a slight pang of guilt in his chest for being late and making you doubt yourself, and him.

But you just shrug your shoulders and give him a playful smile - one that makes his knees grow weak and his heart grow three sizes in his chest. "Should've been here on time."

Now it's his turn to laugh, and he shakes his head as he leans his arms against the table to tilt himself closer to you. "I should've. It's a shame, really...making an angel like you wait on me."

You let out a quiet scoff and roll your eyes, but there's no malice in it - especially when you sport another bright blush and supressed smile.

"Guess I still owe you, then." He murmurs softly, a bit more genuinely - just to show how serious he is about you.

He watches as you cast a glance over at the bright yellow bouquet you had propped up on the seat beside you, and he can see how hot your cheeks are, even as you hide your smile behind your hand - and he can’t help but smile along with you. He’d listen to that old woman talk for days just to fill every room in your place with sunflowers if it meant he could see that look on your face every time he saw you. 

"I guess you do." You nod coyly as you run your thumb over the lip of your mug, finally pulling your eyes up to meet his. "You'll have to make it up to me next time...and don't be late."

Next time.

He huffs out another relieved laugh, already melting under your gaze as he brings his eyes up to meet yours.

"Wouldn't dream of it, love."

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait for this! I hit a block halfway through and was struggling to get my thoughts into words, but I hope this was okay! I’m not sure that there would be another part after this, unless some specific scenario between the two of them was requested. I also thought abt doing some random blurbs or headcannons with the two of them but idk! also the amount of Gaz + sunflower content I saw while writing this was insane. I’d like to think that everyone was blasted with a universal divine imagery of Gaz with sunflowers and everyone did their own thing and it’s all magical. Though, I also felt like I was going insane seeing everyone’s content bc I thought I was manifesting it. Anyway.

Taglist: @vixyyvix, @little-mini-me-world, @miyo-0oo, @milanriol, @z-wantstowrite, @nexthyperfix, @minminiie, @just-pure-trash, @the-ferret-of-fandoms, @my-anime-garden, @doinstime, @kaoyamamegami, @my-fandom-space   (I did keep the ppl from the first part tagged even though it wasn’t requested, hope that's ok :)!)

[ladsarchivee]

Welcome to the Love and Deepspace Archive! 🪐

We're excited to introduce you to an archive of all types of LADS fan work, from fanfiction to mood boards, art, edits, gifsets and web weaves (and more!).

The amount of fan creations flooding the main tags is truly overwhelming and, thus, posts quickly get lost.

Here in the LADS Archive our mission is to store your work in appropriate masterlists so that anyone can access them easily.

Before submitting your work, please acquaint yourself with the rules and submission guidelines and make sure you follow them to help us run this blog smoothly 🙂

Signal boosts would be greatly appreciated!!

In case of questions, you can DM the mods (@rosewoods-sweetheart or @calebly) or send us an ask.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

SHOEI BAROU | AO3

SAE ITOSHI | AO3

TABITO KARASU | AO3

REO MIKAGE | AO3

SEISHIRO NAGI | AO3

EITA OTOYA | AO3

KENYU YUKIMIYA | AO3

OLIVER AIKU | AO3

[elysian-fawn]

⟣ 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍'𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 ⟢

user 𝒆𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏-𝒇𝒂𝒘𝒏 invites you to let her read your cards pertaining to you and your sweetheart's relationship this valentine's week ! spanning from questions about how they truly feel about you in the midst of your slowburn arc to the butterflies that swarm in their stomach from something you do , you're sure to be left with a heartwarming and giddy message !

▸ duration : 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦 , 𝑓𝑒𝑏. 𝟏𝟎 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 ─ 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 , 𝑓𝑒𝑏. 𝟏𝟒 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 ▸ status : closed !

ℛ𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑠 ⦂

› send in an ask & you do not have to come off of anon if you choose ꒰ though if you choose to remain on anon : please give yourself a markerﾉemojiﾉkaomoji or wtv !! ꒱ , however please specify which dr you wish to get a reading for and your specific sig. other <3 › you can only request up to two things

ℳ𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 ⦂

› req's are bumped up to a v special 4 (˶ > ₃ < ˶) ᰔ ˖⁺‧₊ › you can ask about more than one dr s/o <3 ꒰ my limit atm i think will be ~ 3 !! ꒱

𐔌  .  ⋮ 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ꒱

✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟏 ✉︎ ⟡ ( if unscripted ) what brings the two of you together ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟐 ✉︎ ⟡ what romance trope does your relationship mirror ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟑 ✉︎ ⟡ what role do you each respectively play in the relationship ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟒 ✉︎ ⟡ what specific habit of yours/thing about you makes their heart skip a beat ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟓 ✉︎ ⟡ what does life in general feel like with them ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟔 ✉︎ ⟡ which of your qualities do they like the most ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟕 ✉︎ ⟡ what's their favourite way to express their love for you ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟖 ✉︎ ⟡ what's the biggest challenge you may face in this relationship ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟗 ✉︎ ⟡ how do they feel about you deep down ? ✉︎ 𝐧𝐨. 𝟏𝟎 ✉︎ ⟡ what's the first thing they noticed about you ?

fawn's note : oh gosh the last time i gave a friend a reading was like nearly 3 years ago =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) i will try my very best to ensure that it is as accurate as i can get ,, but my reading skills are rusty & i'm using this as an exercise to better them (ᵕ—ᴗ—) to make up for that , i will be including channelled songsﾉsongs that speak 2 me when doing the reading hehe <3

[voxofthevoid]

WIP Wednesdays are back on now that I'm done with the demon AU and once again tackling my ever-expanding list of plot bunnies. I desperately need some shorter projects, so I first picked what will essentially be a pair of sister oneshots with cross-dressing as the central premise—Yuuji in a skirt and then Gojou in a dress. The fics themselves won't be connected in-universe; it's just a shared premise.

I'm nearly done with the first oneshot—a couple more writing sessions and it'll be over, I reckon. So you get skirt-wearing Yuuji this week. Hopefully, I'll be able to post Gojou in a dress next week, but who knows.

Anyway, here comes Skirtfic Wednesday #1—the following scenes are mostly gen interactions between the Tokyo trio, Gojou, and Nanami.

“Why’s he the only one getting fake boobs?” Yuuji asks—he isn’t really sure if he’s envious or not, but it feels like he should ask anyway.

“Your tits are fat enough,” Kugisaki shoots back irritably. “This guy’s as flat as a board.”

Fushiguro doesn’t look too bothered by that assessment. Then again, he’s been staring up at the ceiling for a while now like he can will the wooden beams to fall down and put him out of his misery, so Yuuji’s doubtful whether he even heard her.

But he’s not really doing anything to stop Kugisaki either, even though she’s got both hands stuffed up his shirt. They form weird, squirmy bulges under the silken fabric of the blouse. The one Yuuji’s wearing is pretty tight, especially around the shoulders and chest, but Fushiguro’s has got a little more room—enough for Kugisaki’s arms to not rip anything at least.

Just then, she grumbles something indistinct and takes one arm out, only to stick it down his shirt instead. This time, Yuuji can see a distinct curve form on the left side of Fushiguro’s chest.

“That looks kinda dirty,” he comments. “Like you’re molesting him.”

“Itadori,” she grits out, “shut up.”

Fushiguro hasn’t taken his eyes off the ceiling, but he looks a little more dead-eyed.

After a few more seconds, Kugisaki lets out a semi-satisfied huff and takes her hands out. She pats the chest stuffing over the blouse, and if anything, it looks even dirtier now, like she’s squeezing Fushiguro’s tits. But she was right earlier—Fushiguro kinda doesn’t have anything there. Even these visuals can’t overpower that knowledge.

Kugisaki steps back then, her hands on her hips as she looks Fushiguro up and down. “It’ll do.”

Fushiguro makes a noise that could be acknowledgment, could be despair.

Yuuji checks his phone. “Let’s go then. We’re already late.”

“And whose fault is that?” Kugisaki asks.

“Uh, yours?”

“Huh?!”

“What?” Yuuji holds up his arms defensively. “You’re the one who wanted to give Fushiguro tits!”

“Did you see how that blouse hung on him? Do you know how much time I spent finding outfits that’d fit the two of you? Like hell am I letting his flat chest ruin my hard work. It’s bad enough that we aren’t wearing gloves.”

“Fine, fine…” Yuuji stands up. His skirt immediately pulls up. “Kugisaki, this thing barely covers my dick. I’m gonna flash people.”

She growls. “It’s not my fault you have a third fucking leg.”

“It’d be fine if you didn’t make me wear panties! What’s wrong with boxers?”

“Who wears boxers with a skirt, you moron? And don’t blame the damn outfit! Look at how much more modest Fushiguro is.”

Yuuji looks dutifully at Fushiguro, who’s gone back to staring up at the ceiling—if he ever stopped at all.

“You okay, man?”

“I want,” Fushiguro says calmly, “to die.”

Yuuji blinks. “That’s no good. Anyway, you look really pretty!”

Fushiguro makes a noise. Kugisaki snorts.

“You look really great too, Kugisaki,” Yuuji tells her.

She looks the best out of them three. It’s not just that she’s pretty, it’s also that she’s the only one of them whose frame suits these outfits. Sailor Senshi are all women, and these uniforms are clearly designed for people with a lot more chest and a lot less between their legs than Fushiguro and Yuuji.

Kugisaki fills it out really well. Fushiguro looks fine from the waist below—he’s really got the legs for this, all pale and toned—but whatever Kugisaki’s done to his chest doesn’t really look…organic. Yuuji’s own blouse threatens to rip along the seams at his shoulders whenever he so much as breathes, and he keeps needing to adjust his dick so it won’t just flop around and out of the tiny red skirt.

“Of course I do,” she says, flipping her hair with a smirk. “Now, stop ogling or I’ll nail your eyes shut.”

-

Technically, they’re working tonight.

Yuuji’s heard a lot about Halloween in Tokyo, especially Shibuya, but this isn’t really anything like the stories—mostly because they’re staying in the campus instead of going to the city. When Yuuji asked about it, Gojou said the day itself is meaningless to curses, despite the spookiness of it all, but the sheer amount of fear-focused activity usually leads to heightened curse activity that lasts for weeks. It’s apparently common for sorcerers to increase patrols in major hotspots on the night of October 31.

But the patrols happen in shifts, and there’s plenty of time in between for some fun.

It was Gojou who proposed a costume party within campus. Kugisaki and Yuuji both leaped at the chance; Fushiguro didn’t outright refuse. The second years were easy enough to rope in, and the third and fourth years aren’t around anyway. Yuuji has no idea how Gojou convinced the principal, but he suspects Panda was involved.

Yuuji’s just glad it’s happening. He’s never really done anything for Halloween before. A couple of times in middle school, his classmates organized something, but those usually overlapped with the hospital visiting hours. Yuuji would go home afterward and curl up with some scary movies…but he did that all the time anyway.

This is different. His friends are here. His teacher is—

“A vampire!” Yuuji crows, taking in Gojou’s costume. “Sensei, you look so cool!”

Gojou blinks. He seems to unfreeze. He sucks in a large breath too, chest swelling noticeably. He must be really dedicated to playing the part if he stopped breathing on seeing them.

At his side, Nanami looks a little constipated.

Gojou comes fully back to life then, bowing with a little flourish. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Suck-up,” Kugisaki mutters from beside Yuuji. “He looks lame. Who the hell thinks a cape is cool?”

“I do,” Yuuji admits cheerfully. “You look good too, Nanamin—but what are you?”

“Myself—”

“A salaryman.” It’s Gojou who answers, throwing an arm around Nanami’s shoulder; Nanami’s expression sours further. “Nanamin’s feeling nostalgic.”

“Do not call me that, Gojou-san.”

“But Yuuji can?”

“Do not put words in my mouth either.”

“It’s a nice suit,” Yuuji says, used by now to breaking up this back-and-forth before it escalates too much. He’s with Gojou on finding it entertaining, but Nanami never seems to have any fun, and that makes Yuuji feel bad, sometimes. And tonight’s supposed to be about having fun. “I like your tie.”

Nanami looks down at his tie. It’s plain, for a change, and the color is a dark, understated grey. Despite Nanami denying being in a costume, Yuuji’s sure he did dress up as a salaryman. No way would Nanami wear such a tame tie otherwise. Plus, he’s switched out his usual near-opaque glasses for a black-rimmed pair that makes him look quite distinguished.

“…Thank you, Itadori-kun,” Nanami says almost grudgingly, looking back up at Yuuji’s face. Then his gaze shifts, fixing blankly on some point above Yuuji’s head.

He’s about to ask what Nanami thinks of his costume when Gojou says, “And what are you, my cute little students?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kugisaki takes a step forward, cocking one hip and placing her hand on it. She gestures at Yuuji and Fushiguro with the other. Yuuji takes up position on her right. Fushiguro needs a little nudge but does shuffle forward to match him on her left. “We’re Sailor Senshi.”

Gojou laughs. His eyes are glittering. They’re bare, no blindfold or sunglasses in sight, and Yuuji’s used to his hair falling into his eyes when his whole face is exposed like this, but with Gojou’s hair slicked back, there’s no protection at all from the starbright shine of all those impossible blues.

Yuuji swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

“—without the wigs, but let’s see if I can get this right,” Gojou’s saying. He stretches out an arm, pointing at Kugisaki. “Sailor Moon.” The arm slides to Fushiguro. “Jupiter.” Then to Yuuji. “Mars.”

“That’s right!” Yuuji cheers, striking a pose—he has to fight back a wince when the seams at his right shoulder make a very soft noise. Ignoring it, he asks, “Do you like it, Gojou-sensei?”

Gojou’s grin has frozen on his face. He seems to have stopped breathing again.

“Oh my god,” Kugisaki hisses.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami says tightly, “please pull your skirt down.”

“Oops.” Yuuji tugs the skirt back down. It doesn’t help much. He reaches under and shoves his bits back into his panties. Someone makes a soft, strangled noise. “Sorry, it’s this skirt, it’s so—”

“Perfect,” Gojou says, and his voice is so breathy that Yuuji stops what he’s doing, his head snapping up to Gojou. “It’s perfect.”

Nanami turns his head toward Gojou very slowly, an incredulous glare plastered on his face.

“Pervert,” Kugisaki deadpans.

“Huh?” Yuuji looks at her. “Who?”

Her eyes narrow. “Both of you.”

Yuuji blinks. “But Fushiguro hasn’t done anything. You’re the one who gave him tits.”

Her hand flies to her pouch of nails. “You little—”

Wheezing laughter answers that, the cadence of it very familiar. Sure enough, when Yuuji turns to look at Gojou, he’s doubled over, laughing quietly and apparently uncontrollably.

Nanami stares down at him for a moment and then turns on his heels, walking away without a word.

[astroyosei]

［天王星］uranus moodboard

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Master list of this sexy daddy 😋🤤

Fluff:

Something cute 💕 Husband 💕 King of Aftercare

Smut:

Sugar Daddy 🤤 Neighbor 🤤 Pleasure 🤤 Drabble 🤤 Drabble 2 🤤 Drabble 3 Drabble 4 Breeding Kink

[taintandviolent]

For the ask prompt game:

"Don't say that" w Kit Walker

tw: infertility, angst, brief smut.

Kit opened the door, setting his coat down on the chair nearest to it. You felt him searching for you, felt his eyes scanning over the small of your back and the curve of your ass. His heavy steps echoed in the small house as he made his way over to you. Wordlessly, your hand moved in circles, sudsing up a plate. 

His warm chest pressed against your back and Kit began peppering little kisses along the nape of your neck. Knowing what was coming next, you immediately felt petulant and stiffened as you continued to meticulously scrub at the dishes. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Kit – you did, with everything you had. It was just that he wanted something you didn’t, and something that you’d never ever be able to give him. Still, he tried, thinking that his potent virility would puncture your insufferable, sterile womb. 

“Miss me, baby?” 

“Sure I did. I always miss you when you’re gone, Kit.”

“Mmmmfff –” His words disappeared into your skin. 

His large, warm hands explored your plush hips, squeezing the flesh hard. Teeth clenched, you bit back your words. They continued to venture further, into the crease of your thigh, heading straight for your cunt. His middle and ring finger moved together, caressing the slit. His whisperings were hot on your ear, his breath rushing down over your neck. “I wanna’ fill you up, baby.” 

“Oh, Kit - stop it!” You twisted your body away from him, furiously scrubbing at the pan.

Kit’s eyes softened, searching for a glimmer of sarcasm, of joviality. He found nothing but hardness. “Sugah’, don’t…” 

“No! Kit!” You threw the pan down, the sound of it clattering in the sink startling him. “ I’m tired of ignoring the elephant in the room. It makes me sick!” 

“Baby, listen,” he shushed, his hands clamping onto the sides of your arms. He rubbed the flesh there, trying to pacify you. He hadn’t meant anything by his casual remark, he was just trying to get you in the mood. After a long day, all he wanted was to have you to his own. As any man would. 

Bracing yourself on the sink, you leaned over it, watching as the suds sloshed back and forth, tiny bubbles popping. Tears welled up in your eyes, stinging the corners. You hadn’t wanted to cry today, you were so tired of feeling this – every time he came onto you, the worry was in the back of your mind. Finally, you turned to him and spoke, struggling to keep your voice steady. 

“Kit, you know damn well that filling me up isn’t going to do anything. And even if it did, you know how I feel about that. I’m broken. I’m broken and you know it.”

“You’re not broken, sugah’ - there ain’t a damn thing wrong with ya’.” 

“Maybe I ought to go to Briarcliff. Maybe if they fry my brain long enough, it’ll fix me”  

“Don’t say that.” He squared his shoulders. “Don’t say that.”

[cepheusgalaxy]

Febuwhump day 16 — Eaten alive

I took some liberties with the concept lmao. Not as literal as it could but also not nearly as metaphorical either. Oops

CW: Dubcon blood drinking, vampire carewhumper

Totsuka knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she heard, said by a light voice laced with velvet. A voice she’d come to know all too well.

She gulped down the dread and grabbed the silver knob of the too-heavy mahogany doors, breathing in and out twice to control her quivers as she opened them.

Noa’s room was, as always, breathtaking.

As Totsuka stepped in, leaving behind the dark hall and bare feet touching soft carpet instead of the hard marble floors, a haven of pure blue revealed itself in front of her. Not only from the large bed and curtains, hanging from the nauseously tall ceiling, or from the intricate arabesques painted on every column of the walls in every shade she could imagine—but also from the blue evening sky drawing an impossible illustration behind the large open windows, mountains and the lake standing out against the golden rays of the sun starting to set and the few gray clouds lazily watching over the landscape.

In the center of all, was the owner of the chambers.

Noa Izabella was laying down with her back to the soft cerulean blankets, silky and thin hair too light and flowy to even hold any form, spread like water from a river between layers of pillows. She had her eyes closed, a leg bent over the other, a faint smile dancing on her lips. Noa took in the golden light from the candles and chandelier above them as if she was a hippo bathing idly in the sunlight.

Tot tried to stop her body from trembling. The room wasn’t nearly as warm as she’d have wanted.

Well. Not like her own was any better.

“Lily,” her voice was like cotton, soft and light. “You are late.”

She didn’t answer.

“Are you going to keep me waiting in there?”

Totsuka forced herself to take another deep breath and walk towards the bed, reaching behind the transparent curtains and sitting on it. She sank into the texture, trying not to whimper. It was so soft. God, what would she not give to touch that mattress all day long.

Noa’s hand grabbed her chin, a feline smile on her lips.

Her stomach dropped and she braced himself.

“By Bhura, you are dirty,” she scolded, brushing a bit of dirt off her cheek. Noa’s eyes trailed over her, tangled mane of hair braided a bit messy down her neck, black simple clothes the only thing she was allowed and barely hiding any of her scars. Totsuka looked away, suppressing a flinch. God, she hated it when Noa called her. “I should tell Papa to let you clean yourself every now and then.”

“Your papa wouldn’t allow me more than a shower twice a week, milady,” she replied, mocking, still avoiding Noa’s gaze. A second of silence. And then she giggled.

“Well, if that is what you think,” she mumbled, pulling Tot’s face closer to her own, noses touching. Totsuka shoved her nausea down, heat spreading over her cheeks and ears fluttering. Noa closed her eyes and drew closer.

Her other hand pulled the collar of Totsuka’s shirt away and nuzzled her face in there.

Totsuka braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut.

Pain irradiated through her body, and Totsuka felt fangs sinking deep into her neck, marking it with a sharp sting. Despiste herself, her whimpers made their way out of her mouth, crying out. Noa’s hand muffled her.

The soft fur of whatever animal she was wearing today brushed softly against Totsuka’s thin clothes when Noa leaned in closer, taking deep sips of her blood and holding Tot’s body close like a limp doll. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She bit them down.

Totsuka couldn’t move. When Noa fed like this, she could never move. All her world was focused on the single spot where her fangs met her neck and the agony that washed down her body, engulfing her like a hellish blanket or water closing around her body as she drowned—pain lacing each drop of blood that was sucked out of her body, the girl enjoying Totsuka’s whimpering and trembling form like a banquet.

Noa’s mouth pulled out. Totsuka panted, eyes having opened without her meaning them to. Her chest rose up and down, unable to control her breathing, and she felt a hand drawing comforting circles on her back.

Noa drew the hand muzzling her away, petting her hair.

Totsuka failed to suppress a sob, movement starting to return to her body. The hand still caressed her, heavy and soothing. But cold. Always cold.

“You’re so sweet,” Noa said, sounding satisfied. Happy. Totsuka shoved the envy out of her mind. Happy because of her. Her face still shoved in the crook of her neck. “I could eat you all day.”

Totsuka closed her eyes, gritting her teeth.

“And Reo?”

“Reo what?” Noa sounded confused, head turning. Totsuka felt weak, the bloodloss getting to her. She let herself melt into Noa’s embrace.

“You’re still gonna give him the... ‘privileges’, right?” She mumbled, eyes hardly open as her hand patted her head, fingers wandering between her tangled curls.

She heard a smile into Noa’s voice.

“Oh, that.” She drew her face away, lifting both hands to cup Totsuka’s cheeks. She suppressed a shiver. Noa’s eyes were sharp and beautiful—she didn’t like to admit it, but it was no use to try and deny it—staring deep into her own like a hungry tiger. Her fangs flashed behind the grin. “I never break my promises, Totsuka. You and him will get all you deserve.”

Totsuka dropped her gaze. Her vision still swayed.

Noa pulled her again, now holding her face into her own shoulder. Totsuka grunted in surprise. Noa’s short fingers traced the twin punctures on the side of Tot’s neck, taking a yelp out of her.

Shit. She bit a lip.

It hurt.

In a second, the girl’s teeth were stabbing into her again, like a needle pricking into silk.

Totsuka’s vision faded out.

febuwhump masterlist || taglist: @whumpinthepot || @febuwhump

[therealblaineblainee]

Santana Lopez- ✨Incorrect Tweets✨

Pt.1 Pt.2

(Some incorrect tweets for the original, canon lesbian icon because i love her so much. She is who i want to be when I'm older and i stand by the idea that her socials are just a more public and humiliating place for her to bully people. She's just a queen like that.)

[mysticum-draconis]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓱

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥, "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘎𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬! 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘬!" 🎅

Not exactly the right quote with the right image, but it seemed to fit better.

I drew this in December of 2022, copying a still from How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (1966) Christmas special, narrated by Boris Karloff.

Although I didn't think so at the time, this is probably the best thing I drew in 2022. I'm still pretty pleased with how it came out, although now I would’ve coloured him with felt-tip or brush pens, to get the smoother, 2D cartoon look. I don't care much for the grainy, pencil look I ended up getting here.

HB mechanical pencil and Lyra colouring pencils on 160 gsm paper.

Closeup below cut.

Please don’t use or repost here or on other websites without credit or permission, thanks 🙏

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

[itsmelloww]

DD Chapter 53 ⊹ Journal Spread ☠

was giggling and kicking my feet making this lLLooollll <3 Joking (am i), but he seriously looked scrumptious in this new chapter << dont catch me seeing a man I like looking tired and scruffy i tweak a bit

But on a serious note this spread ended up coming out SO cute, I had no clue where I was going with it at first so im rl proud of how it came out [i struggle so much with taking pictures tho ngl i might just get a scanner one day]

[voxofthevoid]

Will you post early for my birthday tommorow? 🎉🎉🎉

I won't update early because that's a whole process™, but you can have a little treat. Happy birthday 😘

(And yes, I answered this early because if I go in the order in which the asks came, you'd get this a week after your birthday.)

“The tree,” Yuuji gasps, fisting a hand in Gojou’s hair to tear his mouth away from the sensitive shell of his ear. “Against the tree.”

“Excellent choice,” Gojou purrs.

Then he’s shooting to his feet and yanking Yuuji up with him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder and another on his hip before peeling away to stride over to the same tree Yuuji was pressed up against only minutes ago.

Gojou braces both palms on the trunk and…sticks his ass out.

“Like this?” he asks, throwing Yuuji a shit-eating grin over his shoulder.

“How are you making that look sexy?” Yuuji asks, genuinely baffled. “I can’t even see your ass.”

Gojou bursts into laughter, half collapsing against the thick tree while his body shakes. All Yuuji can see is the cape trembling. It covers Gojou’s whole back, nearly reaching the ankles. Yuuji wasn’t kidding about not being able to see his ass.

He sighs and walks over, absently noting that his bits flopping around under the skirt is still more comfortable than trying to squeeze them into that slim stretch of crotch fabric.

Gojou has stopped laughing by the time Yuuji reaches him and is just leaning against the tree, his ass still thrust back. Yuuji steps up close, their bodies meeting. A pleasant shiver runs through him.

He grips Gojou’s hips. “A little lower, sensei.”

Gojou gamely adjusts his stance, his torso becoming almost parallel to the ground while his ass comes to a snug rest against Yuuji’s crotch. There’s still a lot of clothing in between them—Yuuji’s skirt as well as Gojou’s cape and pants and even whatever underwear he’s wearing. But Yuuji’s not in any real hurry.

He squeezes Gojou’s hips before sliding his hand to the front of his pants, fingering his belt and the button underneath. He leans in, draping himself over Gojou’s back so he can kiss on him while undoing his pants. It puts most of his weight on Gojou, but he can take it. And Yuuji has to do some clumsy maneuvering with his chin to get at Gojou’s nape past the high collar of his cape—should’ve taken that off first—but he manages, dragging his mouth softly over the very soft skin right under Gojou’s undercut.

Gooseflesh kisses him back.

Yuuji abandons the pants with the belt loosened and the button popped, instead working on the cape fastenings. It’s tricker than he thought it’d be—a pair of tiny buckles on straps of soft rubber that make Yuuji worry if he’ll ruin the whole thing by pulling too roughly.

“You could help,” he grumbles against Gojou’s throat.

A hand helpfully pats his fumbling ones before returning to the tree. “You’re doing fine.”

Yuuji sighs, concentrating on the buckles. One by one, they pop free, and the cape loosens around Gojou’s shoulders. Yuuji leans back just enough to let it pool to the ground and then delicately snags it with one foot so he can toss it to the side. It’s still going to get dirty, but at least he won’t step on it.

Without the cape, Gojou’s just a guy in a dapper suit. Yuuji takes a moment to just stand there and admire the view.

Gojou wiggles his ass. “Missed it?”

Yuuji lets out a snort that hurts the insides of his nose. “I saw it this morning, sensei.”

Gojou sighs theatrically. “He’s already tired of me.”

“I’m never gonna get tired of you,” Yuuji says, completely honest.

“No need to romance me,” Gojou says, still facing the tree. “I’ve already put out.”

“You’re being really ridiculous.” Yuuji can’t help how fond it comes out. He presses himself flush to Gojou again, palming his ass for a long, lingering moment, his guts drawing up tight at how the flesh fills his palm, before sliding his hands back to the front to work on his pants. “Hey, sensei?”

Gojou hums, an acknowledgement that doubles as an invitation to continue, but Yuuji doesn’t speak immediately, a little distracted by the gentle pressure against his cock. The skirt and the pants are still separating their bodies, but there’s a promise there that sinks into his flesh, heating it with warm, pulsing waves. He’s still mostly soft, but that won’t be a problem for long.

Yuuji’s found out over and over and over that he can go all day if Gojou just breathes on him right. Gojou likes to tell him it’s his age, but Yuuji’s not so sure. He can’t imagine ever not burning like a pyre for this man. He won’t get to really test it out. Yuuji’s not meant to live long, right? He lost that luxury when he swallowed that first finger. He probably won’t make it to Gojou’s age, not even close.

But for as long as he’s here, he wants this man.

He kisses Gojou’s nape, his nose brushing the velvet-soft undercut. A hand flies to his hair, fisting tightly but not trying to move him, and so Yuuji just stays like that for a little while, rutting lazily against Gojou’s clothed ass while his cock chubs back up under the skirt. Gojou’s fly is undone, but Yuuji holds them up, just enjoying this easy, lazy moment.

He can feel Gojou’s need though, radiating heat even through his thick pants. Yuuji’s been neglecting him.

“Sensei,” he asks again, “can I eat you out?”

Gojou’s fingers clench roughly in Yuuji’s hair. His voice is a harsh, guttural rasp: “Yes.”

Yuuji drops the pants, drops to his knees.

Gojou’s wearing a thong—because of course he is. Everything about this man is an assault on Yuuji’s sanity and self-control. For a moment, Yuuji just looks, his mouth watering at the sight of that thin, dark strip of fabric pulled taut across the valley between two perfect curves of pale flesh. Gojou was right there when Yuuji loudly proclaimed his love for tall women with big butts, and he’s very much not a woman, but god, he’s got one hell of an ass—and Gojou never lets Yuuji live it down whenever he gets a little too into touching him there.

“Are you just going to watch?” Gojou asks from above, the weight of his eyes bearing down on Yuuji.

Yuuji swallows wetly. “Just making sure you know I’m not tired of you, sensei.”

Gojou chuckles, with a shocking lack of sharp edges. “Very smooth. Consider me convinced. Go on then. Take too long and they’ll eat all the food, you know.”

“That’s fine,” Yuuji says faintly, his trembling thumb hooked into the fabric covering Gojou’s hole. “I’ll eat well anyway.”

Gojou howls with laughter—and chokes on it, as if his throat has clenched around the sound as violently as his rim is clamping down on Yuuji’s tongue. He still works it in deeper, pushing boldly past the shuddering resistance. It’d have been easy enough to sweeten it up for a smoother, slicker entry, but Yuuji kinda likes how shocked Gojou’s flesh feels when he just punches in like this, burying his tongue all the way inside till the hot, ripe taste there soaks into it.

[astroyosei]

　　　　　𝒶𝓼𝓉𝓮𝓇𝓸𝒾𝓭　𝓬𝒽𝓲𝓁𝓭　♡