#he defies gravity daily

[mothinflamesdoodles]

Fanart for @sophtopus for her fanfic The Golden Quiche, a very fun ride.

The story takes place on the surface after Frisk completed a pacifist run.

Basically, anime is real, we get to see how modern mages function in modern society and the impact of of monsters resurfacing on the surface world. It’s always fun to read the Undertale cast shenanigans on the surface.

Lot’s of world building, plot twists and fun action packed fights.

P.s. the cast have a lot of skeletons in their closet like multiple ossuaries full of skeletons in their closet.

[eye-of-yelough]

thinking about the other grey gith oc i reblogged a while ago and how they were also a goo warlock and how. idk maybe that’s the reason. eldritch beastie pulled me into it’s dark realm of terrors and i came back wrong

[kiesbrainjuice]

— CRAWLING BACK TO YOU ! bokuto kotaro

➥ syn : the volleyball captain finally realizes his feelings for you and confess in a…crawling way

➥ wc : 3.4k

➥ tw : just a crawling to the windows bokuto :)

➥ a/n : I FOUND A BIG IDEA even if I was in a lack of inspo since…days. Lmaooo enjoy reading ;)

The routine started innocently enough, just another day at Fukurodani Academy. The gymnasium buzzed with a symphony of sounds - volleyballs smacking against the polished floor, sneakers squeaking, and the cacophony of voices echoing off the high ceilings. Amidst this controlled chaos, one voice rang out above the rest, unmistakable in its enthusiasm and volume.

"Hey, hey, hey! Did you see that spike? It was like 'whoosh' and then 'bam'!"

Bokuto Koutarou, the ace and captain of Fukurodani's volleyball team, stood at the center of it all, his arms spread wide as if to embrace the entire gym. His hair, defying gravity in its trademark owl-like style, seemed to quiver with excitement. His golden eyes sparkled with an almost childlike glee that was infectious, spreading to his teammates like wildfire.

You couldn't help but smile as you leaned against the gym's entrance, your bag slung over your shoulder. This daily visit had become a cherished part of your routine, a moment of brightness before the long school day ahead. What had started as mere curiosity about the boisterous volleyball team had evolved into something more, something that centered around the whirlwind of energy that was Bokuto.

As if sensing your presence, Bokuto's head swiveled towards you, his face breaking into an even wider grin. "Hey! You're here!" he shouted, waving enthusiastically.

You waved back, your heart doing a little flip in your chest. It was time for your daily ritual.

Sauntering over to where Bokuto stood, you took in his appearance - the way his practice shirt clung to his muscular frame, the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way his hair somehow remained perfectly styled despite the rigorous practice.

"Morning, Bokuto," you said, infusing your voice with a teasing lilt. "I see your hair is defying the laws of physics as usual. What's your secret? Super glue?"

Bokuto blinked, then let out a booming laugh that reverberated through the gym. "Nah, it's all natural! Cool, right?" He ran a hand through his spikes, preening slightly. "Maybe I was just born to be a star!"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Oh, definitely. You're practically glowing." Your tone was playful, but there was a hint of sincerity in your words that you couldn't quite hide.

However, as always, the nuance seemed to fly right over Bokuto's head. He beamed at you, taking your words at face value. "Thanks! I did have a good breakfast this morning. Gotta fuel up to be the ace, you know!"

You nodded sagely, fighting back a fond smile. "Of course. Can't have our star player running on empty."

This was how it always went. You'd drop a flirtatious comment, and Bokuto would respond with endearing obliviousness. It was frustrating at times, but you couldn't deny the charm in his innocent reactions. There was something refreshing about his straightforward nature, his inability to pick up on subtle cues. In a world of complex social dynamics and hidden meanings, Bokuto was an open book - one that you found yourself wanting to read over and over again.

As the days passed, your flirtations became bolder, your compliments more direct. Yet, Bokuto remained blissfully unaware, accepting your words with the same enthusiastic gratitude he showed when receiving a perfect set on the court.

One particularly memorable morning, you decided to up your game. Bokuto had just executed a powerful spike, the ball slamming onto the other side of the court with a resounding 'thwack'. As his teammates cheered, you caught his eye and gave him a slow, deliberate wink.

"Nice kill, ace," you called out, your voice low and appreciative. "You know, you're pretty amazing when you're all fired up like that."

Bokuto's chest puffed up with pride, but his response was as innocently enthusiastic as ever. "Thanks! I feel like I could take on the whole world right now!" He pumped his fist in the air, oblivious to the double meaning in your words.

You sighed inwardly, equal parts amused and exasperated. It was like flirting with a particularly cheerful brick wall.

It wasn't until a quiet afternoon, when the usual bustle of the gym had died down, that things began to shift. Practice had been particularly grueling that day, and even Bokuto's seemingly endless reserves of energy seemed depleted. He sat on the bench, absent-mindedly toweling off his sweat-dampened hair, his usual vibrant demeanor subdued.

Akaashi Keiji, the team's setter and Bokuto's closest friend, observed him with a mix of concern and curiosity. It was rare to see Bokuto so contemplative, and Akaashi knew from experience that a quiet Bokuto often preceded either a brilliant insight or a spectacular mood swing.

"Something on your mind, Bokuto-san?" Akaashi asked, his voice calm and measured as always.

Bokuto looked up, seeming almost surprised to find Akaashi there. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, his brow furrowing in concentration. Finally, he blurted out, "Akaashi, you're smart about people stuff, right?"

Akaashi blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. "I... suppose so. Why do you ask?"

Bokuto ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that betrayed his nervousness. "It's about [y/n]," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "She come around a lot, right?"

Akaashi nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had noticed your frequent visits and the way you interacted with Bokuto. Unlike his captain, Akaashi was perceptive enough to recognize flirtation when he saw it. "Yes, she does," he confirmed, wondering where Bokuto was going with this.

"Well," Bokuto continued, his words coming out in a rush, "she always says these things. Nice things, you know? About my hair, or my plays, or just... me. And it feels different from when other people say nice things. It makes me feel all..." He gestured vaguely at his chest, struggling to find the right words.

Akaashi's smile grew a little wider. "Warm? Fluttery?" he suggested gently.

Bokuto's eyes widened. "Yeah! Exactly! How did you know?"

Akaashi took a deep breath, realizing that he was about to open Bokuto's eyes to a whole new world. "Bokuto-san," he said carefully, "have you considered that [y/n] might be flirting with you?"

The look of utter bewilderment on Bokuto's face would have been comical if it weren't so genuine. "Flirting?" he repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. "Like... trying to be my friend?"

Akaashi couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Not exactly," he explained patiently. "Flirting is a way of showing romantic interest in someone. It's like... testing the waters to see if there's a mutual attraction."

Bokuto's jaw dropped, his eyes growing impossibly wide. "Romantic interest? You mean... [y/n] might like me? Like, like-like me?"

Akaashi nodded, amused by Bokuto's childlike phrasing but touched by his innocent reaction. "It's very possible. She's been giving you a lot of compliments and attention. Those are often signs of flirting."

Bokuto fell silent, a rare occurrence that Akaashi knew signaled deep thought. He could almost see the gears turning in Bokuto's head as he replayed every interaction with you in this new light.

After a long moment, Bokuto spoke again, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Akaashi... I think I might like her too. Like, like-like her."

Akaashi felt a surge of affection for his friend. For all his bravado on the court, Bokuto could be endearingly vulnerable when it came to matters of the heart. "That's great, Bokuto-san," he said warmly. "Have you thought about telling her how you feel?"

Excitement flashed across Bokuto's face, his golden eyes lighting up with newfound understanding. "Tell her? Of course! Why didn't I think of that before? This is gonna be great!"

Akaashi blinked, a bit taken aback by Bokuto's sudden enthusiasm. "You're... not worried about how she might respond?"

Bokuto let out his signature booming laugh. "Worried? Nah! I'm the ace, aren't I? I've got this!" He puffed out his chest, his earlier doubts completely forgotten. "Besides, [y/n] is always saying nice things to me. She's gotta like me, right?"

A small smile tugged at Akaashi's lips. This was the Bokuto he knew - confident, enthusiastic, and ready to take on any challenge. "Well, if you're sure, Bokuto-san. Just remember to be respectful of her feelings, whatever she may be."

"Hey, hey, hey! Of course I will!" Bokuto exclaimed, jumping to his feet with renewed energy. "I'm gonna sweep her off their feet with my awesome confession! It'll be like my best spike ever, but with words!"

As practice wound down and the team began to disperse, Bokuto's mind was buzzing with excitement. He replayed every interaction with you, seeing them in a new light. The compliments, the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to seek him out - it all made perfect sense now.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, matching Bokuto's mood as he practically bounced into the gym. His enthusiasm was palpable, radiating off him in waves that his teammates couldn't help but notice.

"Someone's in a good mood," Konoha remarked, raising an eyebrow at Bokuto's even-more-exuberant-than-usual demeanor.

"Of course I am!" Bokuto exclaimed, his grin threatening to split his face. "Today's gonna be awesome!"

As the team began their warm-ups, Bokuto's eyes kept darting to the gym entrance. Any moment now, you would walk in, and he would sweep you off your feet with his amazing confession. He had it all planned out in his head - he'd stride up to you confidently, flash his best smile, and tell you exactly how he felt. It was foolproof.

But when you finally did appear in the doorway, something unexpected happened. Bokuto felt his words die in his throat.

You stood there, backlit by the morning sun streaming through the windows, and Bokuto felt as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your hair caught the light, creating a soft halo effect. Your eyes sparkled with warmth as they met his, and your smile - that smile he'd seen a hundred times before - suddenly seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.

"Morning, Bokuto!" you called out cheerfully, completely unaware of the internal crisis you'd just sparked in the volleyball captain.

Bokuto opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. His mind, usually filled with thoughts of volleyball and little else, was now entirely occupied by you. He noticed things he'd never paid attention to before - the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gentle curve of your neck, the grace in your movements as you walked towards him.

"Bokuto?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you approached. "Are you okay? You're being awfully quiet."

Bokuto nodded dumbly, still unable to form words. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be confident, charismatic, sweeping you off your feet with his awesome confession. Instead, he found himself struck silent, in awe of your presence in a way he'd never experienced before.

From across the gym, Akaashi watched the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. He'd never seen Bokuto so flustered before, especially not in front of you.

"Earth to Bokuto," you waved a hand in front of his face, your tone a mix of amusement and worry. "Did you lose your voice or something?"

Bokuto shook his head, trying to snap out of his daze. "N-no, I'm fine!" he finally managed to stammer out. "Just... thinking about... volleyball stuff!"

You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but decided to let it slide. "Okay, if you say so. Well, don't let me interrupt your practice. I just wanted to say hi before class."

As you turned to leave, Bokuto felt a surge of panic. This was his chance, he had to say something! But all that came out was a weak, "Bye!"

You glanced back, giving him a slightly puzzled smile before heading out of the gym. Bokuto watched you go, his heart pounding in his chest.

emo mode activated.

Once you were out of sight, he slumped to the floor, burying his face in his hands. "Akaashi!" he wailed, loud enough for the entire team to hear. "What just happened?"

Akaashi jogged over, crouching down beside his captain. "I believe, Bokuto-san," he said gently, "that you just experienced what it's like to be truly smitten."

Bokuto peeked out from between his fingers, his golden eyes wide with confusion and a hint of fear. "But... but I had a plan! I was going to be all cool and stuff! Instead, I just... froze up!"

Akaashi patted Bokuto's shoulder comfortingly. "It happens to the best of us, Bokuto-san. Sometimes, when we realize how much we care about someone, it can be overwhelming."

Bokuto slowly lowered his hands, his expression shifting from distress to determination. "Then... then I'll just have to try again! Yeah! I won't let this setback defeat me!"

As Bokuto jumped to his feet, his usual energy returning, Akaashi couldn't help but smile. This was going to be an interesting journey for his captain, and he had a feeling it was far from over.

"Alright, everyone!" Bokuto shouted, his voice echoing through the gym. "Let's practice hard! I've got a confession to nail!"

The team exchanged confused glances, but shrugged and got back to their drills. After all, this was Bokuto - and with him, anything could happen.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. Bokuto trudged home, his usual boundless energy depleted after an especially grueling practice. He'd pushed himself harder than ever, trying to work out the frustration of his failed confession attempt.

As he walked, his mind wandered back to you. The way you'd looked in the morning sunlight, the concern in your eyes when he'd fumbled his words, the gentle curve of your smile as you'd said goodbye. Each memory sent a flutter through his chest, a sensation he was still getting used to.

Suddenly, Bokuto stopped in his tracks. A memory hit him like a spike to the face - that time you'd walked home together because he'd discovered you lived in the same neighborhood. Without a second thought, he pivoted on his heel and broke into a run, his exhaustion forgotten.

The streets blurred past as Bokuto sprinted, his heart pounding with a mixture of exertion and anticipation. He skidded around corners, narrowly avoiding a stray cat, until finally, he found himself on your street.

Panting heavily, Bokuto approached your house. The lights were still on in what he remembered was your bedroom. For a moment, doubt crept in. What was he doing? It was late, you were probably getting ready for bed, and here he was, about to...

Well, he wasn't entirely sure what he was about to do. But he was Bokuto Koutarou, and backing down wasn't in his nature.

With the agility of the ace spiker he was, Bokuto began to scale the side of your house. He'd never been more grateful for his athletic prowess as he carefully made his way up, using drainpipes and window ledges as handholds. 

Finally, he reached your window. Through the glass, he could see you sitting at your desk, engrossed in a book. You were wearing soft-looking pajamas, your hair slightly mussed, and Bokuto felt his heart skip a beat at the sight.

Taking a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the glass.

The effect was instantaneous. You jumped in your chair, the book flying from your hands as you whirled to face the window. Your eyes widened in shock as you recognized Bokuto, perched precariously outside your second-story window.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the absurdity of the situation rendering you both speechless. Then, snapping out of your shock, you rushed to open the window.

"Bokuto?!" you hissed, your voice a mix of concern and disbelief. "What on earth are you doing? Get in here before you fall!"

You helped him clamber through the window, your hands gripping his arm tightly as if afraid he might tumble backward at any moment. Once he was safely inside, you stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Okay, explain," you demanded, your brow furrowed. "Why are you climbing through my window at..." you glanced at your clock, "11:30 at night?"

Bokuto stood there, suddenly very aware that he was in your bedroom, with you in your pajamas, looking adorably rumpled and confused. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, words failing him for the second time that day.

"I... uh..." he stammered, his usual confidence deserting him once again. His eyes darted around your room, taking in the volleyball posters (including one of him, which made his heart leap), the neatly organized bookshelf, the stuffed owl on your bed that he'd won for you at a festival last year.

You sighed, your expression softening. "Bokuto, are you okay? You've been acting strange all day. First, you barely said a word this morning, and now you're scaling buildings in the middle of the night. What's going on?"

Something in your tone, the genuine concern in your eyes, seemed to flip a switch in Bokuto. He stood up straighter, his golden eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"[Y/N]," he said, his voice steady and filled with his usual enthusiasm. "I like you!"

The words hung in the air between you, Bokuto's chest heaving as if he'd just finished a five-set match.

"I mean," he continued, the words now flowing freely, "I really, really like you. Akaashi made me realize it yesterday, and then this morning you looked so beautiful I couldn't even speak, which never happens to me, you know? And I've been thinking about you all day, about how you always come to watch our practices, and how you laugh at my jokes, and how you make me feel all 'gwah' inside."

He paused, taking a deep breath before flashing you his trademark grin. "So yeah, I like you. A lot. And I climbed up here tonight because I couldn't wait another minute to tell you. Because you're amazing, and I want to spike all my tosses for you, if you know what I mean."

As his words sank in, your shocked expression slowly transformed. A blush crept across your cheeks, and a smile began to tug at the corners of your mouth.

"Bokuto," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. "I like you too. I've been trying to tell you for months now."

Bokuto's eyes widened, his grin growing impossibly wider. "Really? That's... that's awesome! Hey he-"

His exuberant shout echoed through your quiet room, and you quickly placed a hand over his mouth, your eyes wide with alarm.

"Shh!" you whispered urgently, your heart racing. "My family is sleeping, and they definitely don't need to know that a boy climbed into my room tonight!"

Bokuto's eyes widened in understanding, and you felt his lips curve into a smile beneath your palm. Slowly, you removed your hand, your fingertips grazing his lips in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," he whispered, his voice unusually soft. "I got excited. But can you blame me? The girl I like just said she likes me back!"

You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as you glanced nervously at your bedroom door. "I do like you, Bokuto. A lot. But maybe next time, try confessing at a more reasonable hour? And preferably through the front door?"

Bokuto grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away. But hey, it worked, didn't it?"

As you both stood there, smiling at each other in the dim light of your bedroom, the full absurdity of the situation hit you. Here was Bokuto, the boy you'd been pining after for months, standing in your bedroom in the middle of the night, having just confessed his feelings for you in the most Bokuto way possible.

Your heart swelled with affection. Despite the late hour, despite the risk of getting caught, despite the unconventional method - or perhaps because of all these things - this moment felt perfect. It was so utterly, completely Bokuto, and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

"So," Bokuto whispered, his golden eyes twinkling with mischief and joy, "what happens now?"

You glanced at your clock, then back at Bokuto, a mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. This was just the beginning, and you had a feeling life with Bokuto was going to be quite an adventure.

Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[bachissidehoe]

Skater boy!Suna, who catches your eye on your daily walk to work as he practices in the skate park across the street.

Skater boy!Suna, who starts to recognize you on your walks, giving you head nods or slight waves while watching you pass by him every day.

Skater boy!Suna, who you just can’t help but look forward to seeing, even if it’s just for a quick second as you walk by. His jumps and tricks are so clean on his board, it almost looks like he’s defying gravity, you even stop and stare a minute to watch him.

Skater boy!Suna, who you finally decide to approach one day, as you stand against the skate park fence with your fingers through the wiry metal.

Skater boy!Suna, who flashes you a sly grin and asks you if you skate at all. When you admit you don’t, he offers to teach you, mixing in a few flirtatious words here and there.

Skater boy!Suna, who holds your hips as you glide on his board, struggling to maintain balance. He catches you when you fall off, chuckling to himself at your embarrassed expression.

Skater boy!Suna, who invites you to watch him skate every day before your walk to work. So you go and sit on a bench in the park, constantly mesmerized by his skill, telling him how he amazes you.

Skater boy!Suna, who flirts with you any chance he can get- placing a hand on your shoulder, patting your head, giving you subtle compliments- anything to make you blush.

Skater boy!Suna, who starts walking you to work so he can spend more time with you, even trying to get you to skate there with him. Obviously, you refuse, so he plants you on his board, holding your hand and guiding it slowly down the sidewalk.

Skater boy!Suna, who still goes to the skate park in the rain, just so he can see you. He knows he doesn’t have to skate this often, but he doesn’t like the idea of missing you. And of course, you go too, realizing what a dumb idea it was as the two of you run for cover.

Skater boy!Suna, who brings you under a canopy to avoid the rain, laughing and shaking droplets out of his hair.

Skater boy!Suna, who fucks you silly while you wait for the rain to clear up- what else were you supposed to do? The tension became too much to take, and you were overwhelmed with the need to have his cock stuffed inside you.

Skater boy!Suna, who digs his nails into your hips while ramming into your tight little pussy, telling you how much of a slut you are for wanting to get fucked like this, while praising your perfect body at the same time.

Skater boy!Suna, who rubs circles around your throbbing clit while fucking you, telling you how badly he needs you to cum around his cock. And of course you do, cumming with a string of whimpers and moans as many times as he wants.

Skater boy!Suna, who calls out of work for you that day, seeing as you’re in no condition to walk anywhere after he fucked you dumb.

[itgirlgyu]

RANDOM HEADCANONS. txt as husbands!

 ۪ 𝆬 ೀ ot5! txt x fem! reader! ◌ ⃘ ₊ 🔗 mini hcs!!! if this becomes a daily occurrence not my fault! ˖ ֗⠀✿ ˖ ⠀KINDA SUGGESTIVE AT SOOBINS SECTION!

YEONJUN...

gets drunk and goes to sleep at your neighbour's place because he thought that was your house.

you had to drag him by the ears.

cries to you about how much he loves you and how he would not be able to live if you didn't say yes to marry him.

tries to take out all the wedding albums and cries while pointing at pictures.

had a full on hiccup session after seeing a picture of soobin and him on his bachelor's ramen get together where they were egging beomgyu.

SOOBIN...

refuses to throw away his waifu body pillows.

"bABE listen TO ME THEY MAKE WONDERFUL PILLOWS AND THEY ARE CHEAP."

tries to watch animes with you and gets uncomfortable when babes with anime racks on screen, fumbling to turn the screen off and if he can't do that—

holds your hand and makes you face all while the anime boobs were jiggling and defying all three rules of gravity,

"babe your pair is the most beautiful pair to me."

BEOMGYU...

whips out his phone and starts recording you fighting another person in the whole foods section in the grocery to get the last discounted item.

screams 'world star' while recording.

totally hypes you up but when he sees the other person's husband approaching

quickly gets a hold of you, and your cart and power walks away before he gets his own ass beaten.

TAEHYUN...

refuses to ask for directions.

at any cost. like he can't believe you would ask him to ask anyone for directions in this modern world of google map and self driven cars.

nastily side eyes you when you suggest that to him.

like a full on.

"maybe there WERE some questions i should have asked before i proposed."

HUENING KAI....

you both have been married for a few months and still can't believe he is married.

fell out of his bed when you woke up next to him because he forgot he was living with you.

called you his best friend when you both went to register for your marriage certificate.

practices, "yes i got married, this is my lovely wife," in the mirror.

he is hiding a very big secret.

he will never tell you but he lost the engagement rings on the wedding day and almost had to be carried to the emergency room.

©ITGIRLGYU 2023! FEEDBACK ATE APPRECIATED!!

PERM' TAGLIST: @impureperhaps @full-sunnies @wonioml

[haechansdoll]

stress reliever - ljn x reader

Pairing : Lee Jeno x f!Reader

Description :You come home to find that your loving boyfriend is feeling particularly frustrated after a hard day's work. Making him feel better is the least that you can do!

Warnings : Light BDSM ,Dom/Sub, Vibrators, Bondage, Spreader Bars, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, aftercare, Cunnilings.

From the moment that you felt the tumbler click and unlock the door, you could feel Jeno’s bad mood permeate the entirety of the apartment that you shared. He sat slumped over on the couch, glass of some dark colored liquor held in his fist as he glared at the floor. His usual gravity-defying hairdo was replaced by a messy bun, and if looks could kill, you’d be dead on the spot. Light music was wafting around the room, but he didn’t seem to be in tune with it like he usually was. 

You kicked off your shoes and dropped your work bag by the door before striding over to your sullen lover and placing a hand on his shoulder to try and stir him out of whatever thought spiral he had gotten himself into. You sat yourself next to him, being careful not to sit too close. Squeezing gently, you whispered his name and hardened citrine gazed back at you.

You couldn’t pretend to understand the grief and tragedy that had occured in his life up to this point. He would share tidbits here and there in a joking matter as if his trauma could be played off as a joke while his voice cracked and tears swarmed his eyes. He became easily frustrated with daily life, and his persona crashed down around him whenever the world around him became too much.

But tonight felt different. For one, he was home when you were home. With the three jobs that he worked, nights off were unheard of, and you always marked when he had any time off in your calendar to ensure that you would also be available. Spending time with him was a luxury that you tried not to squander. 

But as you gazed back at him, something felt different. He wasn’t upset...not that you could tell anyway. There was a strange anger and ferocity in his eyes that was new to you. You pushed forward as your body tingled with nervous excitement.

“Hey, Jeno? Do you...want to talk about anything?” You moved your hand from his shoulder to his unoccupied hand. “You know that I’m always here for you. Just let me know if I can help with anything.”

Both of you sat in an uncomfortable silence in that moment, just staring at each other until Jeno broke the silence by downing the rest of his drink and placing the glass on your coffee table.

“You can help me by getting your ass up the stairs and getting ready for me to take my frustrations out on that body of yours.”

His words shot straight to your core, a familiar warmth starting to bloom from just his words as his gaze sharpened. Oh. It was going to be a night like this.

He stood after his remark and moved to pour himself another drink, replacing the ice with a few whisky stones that you’d gotten him as a present from an occasion long past.

“And don’t let me beat you up the stairs. You know what happens then.”

With that, you all but bolted from the couch and up the stairs into the bedroom off the landing. When Jeno was feeling especially frustrated by work and life in general, he loved to take it out on your body. That being said, he normally preferred a slower pace to help himself relax, but rarely he really let himself go. Jeno was anything but vanilla, and you were excited to see how hard he would push you tonight.

You heard his footsteps from the staircase as you undressed as quickly as you could, getting ready to bare yourself completely for him. Your clothes fell in a rumpled heap at your feet as you undressed as quickly as you could, fingers trembling in anticipation.

You kicked the pile of unwanted clothes away from the bed as you heard the doorknob turn. Perching yourself on the edge of the bed, you watched as your lover stomped inside and admired how quickly you had gotten ready for him, eyes lingering over your chest and thighs.

“Such a good little slut I have. Already ready for me.” His voice wasn’t it's usually peppy self. The deep baritone made you quiver with want at his words. It was going to be a long night.

He took another swig of his drink before placing it on the bedside table and moving to take his shirt off over his head. It was quickly discarded in the same pile of your clothes, and he continued undressing and provided a simple command.

“Ass up, baby.”

You happily complied and got comfortable on all fours at the head of the bed as you heard Jeno stripping himself of his remaining garments. He then dropped to his knees by the side of the bed and pulled out the container that you used for...special occasions.

Hearing the latches click open caused your body to involuntarily clench at the possibilities, and you dropped your chest onto the bed to better present yourself to him. The bed gave slightly behind you as Jeno crawled up to your waiting form, electricity buzzing beneath your skin as his hands ran from your hips to your thighs and back up to your chest. 

Taking both pert nipples between his fingers, he rolled them gently between his index fingers and thumbs causing a low groan to escape your mouth as your chest arched to welcome his fingers. He chuckled darkly as your body reacted to his roaming fingers, tangling in your hair to hold you firmly in place and teasing past your lower abdomen to lightly stroke your sex. 

Bucking up to meet his hand was impossible with the grip that he used on your scalp. You whined quietly against the pillow that you rested on, your sex coating Jeno’s fingers as he dipped into your awaiting entrance with his middle and index fingers.

He stroked your twitching walls and used the hand that held onto your scalp to lace under your neck. Tugging your head up roughly, he applied the lightest pressure to your throat as you tried your best to fuck yourself on his fingers. He added a third finger and curled his fingers in just the right way that made you see stars, your hips working vigorously in tandem with his hand as your release built within you at a blinding pace. 

You began to moan his name in broken gasps, random syllables falling for your lips as he continued his assault on your lower body, your slick beginning to run down the tops of your thighs as you felt your orgasm within your grasp. Your walls began to clench sporadically, and you knew that you were about to fall over the edge.

He removed his fingers at that moment, causing you to sob involuntarily as you looked unsteadily back at him.

“What’s your safeword, babygirl?” He reached behind himself and positioned a few items within his grasp.

Confused, you parroted the word back to him in confirmation. Why ask this now?

“Good, good girl~” He cooed back at you with the gentlest tone that he had yet to use this evening. He used his tongue to lick a fat stripe from your aching hole to your clit where his tongue remained. He activated his quirk and caused his tongue to start to pulse and vibrate against your aching bud as you threw your head back with a cry of his name.

You were barely able to contain yourself as you felt his arms reach underneath your body and fasten restraints to the slats in the headboard before winding them around your wrists and pulling them taut to connect them. Your orgasm was rushing to meet you again as he sloppily ate out your cunt, using his tongue to pulse inside of you and back up to your clit as you squirmed against your new restraints.

Cruelly, he removed his tongue and used his knee to push your calves further apart to secure a spreader bar onto both ankles.

He removed all contact from your body and admired the way that your hole pulsed with need as you whined for him to do anything, absolutely anything , to get you over the edge. Your entire body swayed with want and for him to ravish you as he had done so many times before.

“Oh, babygirl. Tonight isn’t about you~” His voice was cold and teasing as his hand ran up your hip and grasped tightly at the skin there. He dropped his head to growl into your ear. “You’re going to stay here offering me your needy cunt until I decide that I’m finished. Or you use your safeword. Whichever comes first.”

You shivered involuntarily at his voice as he reached down again to palm your tits before slapping them gently to get your nipples to peak again. 

“Good girls do what they’re told, right?”

You whined in agreement, enjoying the way that he teased your body and eagerly awaited the way that he would be using you tonight.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long for Jeno to pull your lower lips apart and watch as your cum drooled onto his waiting cock from your entrance. After stroking himself to fully coat his cock in your warm essence, he plunged into you to the hilt as you cried out his name loudly. He started a rough pace and used your ass as leverage to push and pull your hips to meet his. There was no warm up, no time to get accustomed to the stretch of his girth as it hammered inside of you.

His hips slammed against yours as he roughly fucked you. Your hands clawed at the sheets uselessly as he used your body to get himself off. Tonight, you were nothing but Jeno’s fucktoy, and it felt so good to be used like this. 

Your walls fluttered around him as he moved a hand to thumb at your clit, earning him a yelp as your chest dropped fully onto the bed.

“That’s right, baby. Clench around me harder. Let your body show how much you want me to come inside your slutty little hole.”

It was difficult to thrust back with your restraints, but you rocked as hard as you could to show how devoted you were to him. 

“Fuuu~ck--Jeno! I’m so c-close! I want your cum s-so badly! Please!” 

You begged like you never had before, babbling and desperate for him to let you come and feel his release fill you to the brim. He pinched the overstimulated bud between his fingers, and you finally tumbled over the edge all but shrieking his name. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you felt your hips bucking involuntarily to extend the orgasm that you’d need so desperately.

Your thighs attempted to close to protect yourself from the dull pain that came from his hand still attacking your clit, but your restraints kept you from doing so. With each flick of his finger, your walls clenched harder around his cock, and Jeno spilled soon afterwards with a gutteral moan. His fingers dug into your hips with bruising strength as your pussy clenched around him, coaxing him to spill as much of his seed into you as possible. 

You whined as he slipped his cock from you, his cum spilling out of you in tiny rivulets. Jeno took a few deep breaths to steady himself before reaching forward to stroke your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me. Now stay put. I’ll be back soon. Try not to let too much of my cum spill out of you.”

He stood and left the room after that, leaving you a panting, overstimulated mess as you came down from your first high of the night.

And the night continued like that, with Jeno sporadically coming into the room for another round or to tease another orgasm out of you.

The second time that he came into the room, he dipped his finger into the amber liquid of his cup before tracing patterns and shapes over the curve of your ass. His tongue followed the patterns that his fingers created, biting and marking the sensitive flesh with his teeth. More than once, he dipped his tongue into your cunt to taste you and used his quirk to tease you with vibrations until you were squealing and squirming and begging him to let you come. And every time you did, he removed his mouth and dipped his finger back into his glass again to enjoy the taste of his liquor and how it melded perfectly with how sweet you tasted.

The third time he came into the room was to just slip a bullet vibrator into your throbbing pussy before leaving again, remote in hand. He teased you relentlessly from outside of the room with various vibration patterns and pulses that had you seeing stars and coming over and over until your thighs were coated again with your own slick, much to Jeno’s amusement.

He had returned to remove the vibrator from your fluttering hole only to replace it with his throbbing cock as he jackhammered into you again, body curling over yours as he needily clawed your breasts. With breathy moans, he reminded you over and over that your hole belonged to him and he’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk. He wanted to fuck you stupid and until you only thought about how well his cock filled you. He wanted your greatest joy to be begging for his cum anytime that you saw him.

His release wasn’t long after as his cum mixed with yours as it painted you both inside and out, leaving you a sticky mess. He plunged a finger into your pussy then, scooping some of the gooey mixture onto the digit and commanding you to clean it off. You happily did so, and you were rewarded with praise as you diligently sucked until Jeno removed it from your mouth and exited the room leaving you positively exhausted.

You didn’t even notice the fourth time that he returned until his cock was firmly lodged back in you...what surprised you was the hole that he had chosen. Jeno was drilling into your ass as his balls messily slapped against your entrance, his hand pushing on your lower back to increase the arch and improve the angle that he was able to fuck into you with. How had you slept through all of his prep work? There wasn’t any pain or discomfort as he mercilessly plunged past the ring of muscle over and over again. 

You didn’t have much time to think as he plunged two fingers into your leaking entrance and curled them deliciously, causing you to clench around his cock and wail about how full he was making you. He realized that you had woken up at that point and removed his fingers only to shove them past your lips. You gagged on them as he pushed them as far as he could before sliding them back into your pussy and repeating the process. 

It didn’t take long until he unceremoniously unloaded into your ass with a grunt and moan as you bucked erratically against his fingers as you coaxed another orgasm out of your worn out body. He slid his softening cock from your ass only to watch as his cum spilled messily to mix with the current mess coating you. He kissed the marks that he had made previously and left again to let you doze off one more time.

You woke up again as you felt Jeno untying your wrists and ankles. He gently massaged both parts of your body as you stirred awake, barely coherent after the night that he had put you through. Your entire body ached as it was finally allowed to slump onto the bed, your limbs twitching involuntarily with the prolonged effort of keeping up with him throughout the night.

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Jeno placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head as you attempted to keep yourself from drifting away again. He returned quickly with a few warm, wet washcloths as he dabbed and cleaned your most sensitive areas with care. You apologized at your inability to help him, and he smiled down at you before moving your hair from your face.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t apologize. I’ve got it from here. You did all of the hard work earlier.” He finished his statement with a wink, and you giggled and relaxed as he continued to wipe down and massage your thighs. 

The next thing that he offered was a bottle of water, and you gulped down the cool liquid greedily before flopping back onto the bed. You winced as you realized how much of a mess you’d both made and whined at the thought of having to lie in your own mess tonight.

“Do you think that you’ll be okay for a quick bath, babygirl?” He asked as he cupped your face gingerly. You nodded in agreement as you held out both of your arms. He helped you wrap them around his neck and scooped you into his arms. 

The bath had already been drawn, and the smell of your bubble bath wafted towards you. Jeno delicately placed you into the warm water, and the sigh that left your lips turned into a yawn. He left the room with the promise of clean sheets and blankets upon your return as you soaked in the soothing water and let it relax your muscles.

It didn’t take him long to return, clad only in a clean pair of boxers as he knelt beside the tub. He guided you to lift your arms as he washed you, taking great care to avoid the marks that the restraints had left around your wrists. As he continued to wash your body, you couldn’t help your curiosity.

“How long was I tied up like that?”

“Only for a few hours. It’s almost midnight but not close.” He furrowed his brow as he moved to wash your hair next, brushing through it with his fingers to create a soft lather as he massaged your scalp.

You stared at him in astonishment as he guided your head under the spray of water from the faucet to rinse the shampoo out.

“I mean, you did take a couple of power naps in the middle.” You attempted to swat at him, but your arm felt too much like jelly to even reach any part of his body.

“I was rudely interrupted in the middle of my naps though. It explains why I’m so tired, Jeno.” Your comment didn’t have any bite to it, but Jeno indulged you by pretending to be offended for a moment. Your boyfriend helped you stand on shaky legs as he thoroughly towel dried you before scooping you back into his arms and walking back to the bed.

Jeno tucked you in on your side of the bed and turned off your bedside lamp before sliding under the blanket on his side. You scooted forward until he had both arms wrapped around you, his nose buried in the top of your hair as you relaxed in his arms. 

It took a few tries to get your mouth to cooperate as you felt your body drifting away. “Love you, Jeno.”

“I love you too, y/n. Forever and always.”

It didn’t take long for you to drift off, the rhythmic sound of his breathing acting as a lullaby as you fell into a deep slumber.

[arcanarix]

Fated Divergence Ch.4 // Yandere! Suguru Geto X Non-Sorcerer Darling

AO3 (+previous chapter)

CW // coerced oral scene (fem receiving), death, kidnapping (time for "The Cage" :3)

Word Count: 7.2K

Activity quieted down for a while, and Satoru paused mid-text, his thumb hovering over the send button to his text thread with you. The exhaustion in your voice from his last call ought to be indication enough that he should leave you alone. He slammed the backspace button, choosing to let you breathe as you adjusted to the weight of your world and the current position Suguru Geto placed you in; he needn’t complicate things further. Satoru remembered the determined look on your face when he met you at the clinic, how the way you handled your patients differed so greatly from the victims of cursed spirits he exorcised on the daily. He knew you worked in a place of science and certainty, a world built on concrete evidence and fact; something which the world of jujutsu sorcery possessed little value.

As Satoru ambled down the bustling streets of the district of Shibuya, he envied the oblivious faces of the public. To humans, curses were myths, Japanese folklore and nothing beyond that. Silly stories to scare children over campfires. But for someone like him, curses were a very real thing.

Satoru found himself bouncing back, lingering over your words, your honesty. In his world where gratitude was practically a luxury he didn’t know, your understanding felt like a breath of fresh air. He still scanned over the already long text thread, treating each message you sent him like little priceless trinkets he kept to himself, that he’d protect with his life and his heart. While you might have long forgotten about these interactions, he revisited them often; your messages to him felt like a warm embrace from a lover on his lonelier nights.

Which, for someone like him, he pondered further as he flash backed to the long-gone days of his youth, where Suguru’s concern had once been a constant presence in his life, now disappeared? Lonely nights were a common occurrence.

With the students dispatched on missions far from Japan, Satoru’s thoughts kept circling back to you in his free time. Something about you just didn’t quite add up, like a mis-solved derivative…Suguru’s desire for you only added to the confusion. Did anything ever make sense in the world of jujutsu, and in Geto’s mind? Satoru smirked at the absurdity of the thought; why entertain it at all? Seeking answers in Suguru’s lack of logic was like defying gravity. Nothing about Suguru’s interest in you made sense based on prior and current knowledge of his ‘true’ feelings toward humanity.

Nothing beyond, perhaps, personal interest which may have little to do with Suguru’s ‘grand plan,’ which was subpar, at best. And the curse user was likely aware of such odds being against him.

There had to be a point to what Suguru ever did, at any time. Satoru just didn’t figure that out yet.

The sky blushed with soft, glowing hues of orange and pink, and a soft breeze rushed through Satoru’s hair, grounding him in the present moment in spite of the onslaught of tumultuous, torturous thoughts storming just beneath the surface. It reminded him that he was safe, that he was okay.

For the moment, at least.

He wished it was someone holding him and comforting instead of relying on nature.

His thoughts drifted to the idea of you doing that for him, and he squashed the notion the moment it manifested in his mind. Satoru’s hand twitched toward his phone which he had already stashed in his back pocket, having half a mind to text you again like a desperate teenaged boy trying to court his first girlfriend. But he relented, challenging his self control. He wished to protect you, not to pursue you.

He focused on the walk, intent on seeking clarity and not more confusion and conflict, inhaling the fresh air, observing the people walking past him and the array of colors dusted across the evening sky.

Satoru exhaled, slow and steady, quelling the raging storm in his mind. His line of duty demanded mental sharpness, mental acuity, to focus on the real threats ahead, and not just on the possibilities.

He paused for a moment, his electrifying sky blue gaze sweeping over the bustling streets, swarmed with the enviable, ordinary lives unfolding around him.

But his mind kept pulling back to you. The way you remained dutiful, stern, unyielding. The way you carried yourself with an air of unwavering confidence. The way you seemed genuine with him, from the few interactions he had with you. He already loved the way you laughed, that little, innocent giggle, like you were still an innocent girl who hadn’t been torn apart by the world’s atrocities.

Satoru clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened, a flash of irritation across his eyes at the way he kept thinking about you when he should be focused on other matters. More important, pressing matters. You were already in danger just being in Suguru’s radar. The last thing you needed in your life was him complicated things further with these feelings for you that just kept festering the longer he fought them.

Satoru straightened himself, brushing off his intrusive thoughts. He often prided himself on his self-control, on being above such distractions which were only a privilege for the youth.

Or so he convinced himself…

Satoru strolled down the block, hands stuffed in his pockets, easily sidestepping passersby while pondering his choices. Not realizing he drifted so deep in his thoughts, he brushed past the face of the man he hoped not to see any time soon.

But then again, Satoru thought upon further reflection as he met Suguru’s piercing violet gaze, his senses even picking up on that natural musk of his, maybe he needed to confront him right then and there.

“Satoru! Long time no see! What a pleasant surprise,” Suguru greeted, with Nanako and Mimiko in tow. “I just had to take these two to the hospital. Those girls love their sweets so much that they got food poisoning.”

“Geto!” Nanako pouted at being called out like that! Suguru patted her head, and she eyed him beadily.

Satoru didn’t seem all that interested in their antics, more just on Suguru, and what the hell was happening? What the hell did he want?

“Do you not have proper medics in that fancy temple of yours, Suguru? Not even a sorcerer with Reverse Cursed Technique?” Satoru inquired in a suspicious tone, without turning to look at him. “With how averse you are to non-sorcerers, I didn’t think you’d even bother going to human-ran hospitals even if your girls were on the brink of death.”

“Ah, I suppose all of these monkeys serve their purposes one way or another,” Suguru replied with a dismissive wave over his shoulder, before examining his nails. “Especially that one nurse—oh, yes, the one you’ve met as well! The girls seem to like her very much. Isn’t that right?”

“Is she going to come visit us?” Mimiko asked, who, in spite of her monotone voice, still seemed excited at the prospect of Geto having someone around, and someone she could bond with—another womanly figure around her and Nanako would be a strong positive influence on them both.

“We’ll make arrangements for her visit,” Suguru assured her with his classic, charming smile, that smile which beneath it hid nothing but malice and disdain for the rest of your kind—yet another unusual twist of events Satoru couldn’t solve just yet. “She cannot refuse the offer.”

“What are you planning with her?” Satoru demanded a straight answer—one he knew better than to expect from Suguru. “She’s not a sorcerer.”

Suguru’s lips curled into a sneer, his violet eyes narrowing into slits as he locked onto Satoru—a warning flashing in that gaze.

“It’s none of your concern, Satoru. Mustn’t you give it a rest?”

Satoru frowned, loosening his blindfold to reveal his brilliantly sky blue eyes, rivaling nature’s blue sky itself.

Deciding now than never, he confronted the curse user.

“So you sensed it with her, too, huh?” he queried, perceptive as ever.

Suguru’s jaw dropped, his face darkening, but he should have known. Of course Satoru would know why he became so intrigued by her aura, her essence, the power lying dormant within her. Why did he expect anything different? He was Satoru Gojo.

“Yes, I did. Something about her…a power I cannot even begin to explain or to quantify…” Suguru mused as he tapped his chin in thought. Even Nanako and Mimiko peered up at Geto with curiosity shimmering in their eyes before they exchanged a glance with each other. “Not even your Six Eyes can determine what that power is?”

Gojo inhaled sharply, biting back a smart retort, because that wasn’t going to solve anything in that moment.

“She doesn’t have anything that points to her potentially being a sorcerer,” Satoru responded as his eyes studied Suguru. “It still doesn’t explain why you’re so keen on spiriting her away.”

“That’s for me to know,” he quipped as he adjusted his robe. “Well, I would love to stay and chat, but these girls are eager to return home after an unprecedented hospital stay. You understand?”

Suguru was just about to brush past the man with Six Eyes, and then—

“—One more thing,” Satoru began as he rested a hand on his shoulder, stopping Suguru from retreating too quickly. “Did you latch those curses onto her?”

Suguru grinned until his face cracked, his eyes gleaming with a dark, unspoken vow.

“I did,” he purred, making Satoru’s hairs stand on end, huddling the twins close to him. “As long as it brings her closer to me.”

Shaking his head, Satoru sighed, the implications of Suguru’s words gnawing at his gut.

“I can’t believe you.”

“It won’t happen again!” Suguru lied right through his teeth while placing a hand over his heart for theatrics’ sake.

Perhaps he hosted far too many of those faux sermons on live television…

“It’s not too late to just walk away from this now,” Satoru suggested with a shrug. “She doesn’t seem to hold much regard for you.”

Suguru shot another glare, but refrained from commenting.

Smart, Satoru mused to himself, tightening his blindfold once again. He only smirked at Suguru, who scoffed back.

Satoru, as undeterred as ever, adjusted his composure, preparing to leave, not before giving Suguru a final once over.

He gestured to the Buddhist monk fit.

“You seriously go around in that as a disguise?”

“Of course,” he replied as he ushered the girls to follow him. “I must sell the persona to these monkeys somehow, and they love over-the-top spectacles.”

As they walked away, Nanako climbed up on Geto, murmuring, “Do you think she likes playing Mario Kart or watching Lord of the Rings?”

“Perhaps,” Satoru heard Geto respond before their voices faded with the crowd. “You can find out soon, my love.”

Shaking his head, he continued his solo stroll, just as the horizon swallowed the last sliver of sunlight, leaving behind a myriad of stars across deep indigo hues. He needed a drink, something to dull that growing sense of unease which threatened to consume him.

-- -- -- -- --

Meanwhile, across town, you and Mei found yourselves at your usual spot, the pub that had become your haven for venting and unwinding after grueling shifts. You two poured your guts out to each other over cheap sushi and drinks, as per tradition since your college days together. Mei droned on and on about how she loathed the dating scene and how she couldn’t seem to get past the talking stage anymore with men, and you pointed out how that was the last thing on your mind with how stressful work could be. You both found common ground in that men were the least of your concerns, but that didn’t stop Mei from inquiring constantly about the two new men who entered your life, particularly Gojo.

“So, what’s the story with blindfold guy?” Mei inquired as she chewed on salmon sashimi.

Shockingly this restaurant remained open at such an ungodly hour, and you loved coming here after trying shifts. And after these past weeks…

Ugh. You wanted to drown it all out and forget about it, think ahead and about the future. You always did that and it always helped, especially when you believed you were about to go so far off the deep end…the stress life brought could be so meaningless, at times.

“He’s nice,” you replied, idly sipping on your martini. “Sorry I can’t give much else about the guy. I don’t know much about him except his weird sleep schedule.”

“We’re no strangers to that,” Mei snickered as she brought her glass to her lips. You also snorted.

“No kidding.” Your eyes twinkled upon recognizing a figure over Mei’s shoulder. “Well speak of the damn devil…”

Mei tilted her head, quirking an eyebrow at your statement. “Is blindfold guy here?”

You pointed somewhere above her shoulder.

“Yeah, by the bar. Turn around, but don’t be obvious!”

Leave it to Mei to be discreet! Mei had always been a real one!

Her eyebrows flashed as she got a good eyeful of Satoru. Yes, even you conceded to the fact that Satoru was objectively a handsome man, and this was the first time you saw him with his blindfold off. He, like anyone else, probably just wanted to forget about this week’s trials and tribulations.

You heard Mei sigh dreamily and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Still, you agreed with Mei. Those were the deepest, electrifyingly blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life.

She whistled to herself as she continued to ogle him. “That is one fine piece of ass and you’re saying you don’t want that in your bed?”

“I’m not thinking about that right now, Mei!” you whispered in a harsher tone than intended. You calmed yourself down as you continued. “Besides, I seem to be more of a charity case for him right now.”

Mei seemed confused at that bit for a moment, before the realization dawned on her.

“Is it that whole thing with Geto? I didn’t even know those twin girls were his,” she remarked, “I was just as shocked as you were.”

You shrugged, stabbing your fork into some steak. “It wasn’t like they took his last name. And you weren’t on shift when they were admitted, right? That’s not your fault.”

Mei gave you a blank stare, pausing before continuing.

“That’s the weird thing, actually,” she pointed out as she tried to recall the details of this week. “I didn’t see their names in the roster unless the person before me forgot.”

You blinked, dumbfounded by that new bit of information. You then remembered how Asuka died tragically just before the girls were admitted, and you couldn’t help but think the worst…but instead of entertaining that thought, you put it behind you, thinking that would be something to address to Gojo once he sobered himself up.  

“That’s really weird,” you stated, that same churning feeling in your stomach bouncing back. You tried to ignore it—you wanted to enjoy a nice dinner with your friend, one of the few luxuries you could afford in this lifetime.

She nodded, sipping most of her drink until it was nearly empty and setting it back on the coster. “No kiddin’.” She saw something in the corners of her eyes and her eyes twinkled in that classic mischievous, Mei way. “Hey, someone’s on his way to chat it up with your sexy ass.”

“Mei,” you groaned as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks at the mere thought. Why you were behaving like a young schoolgirl all of a sudden, you hadn’t the slightest idea, yet here you were! Completely blindsided by the fact that someone like Satoru Gojo wanted to know you at all…

“Fancy seeing you here this time of night,” Gojo greeted with a smug grin, flashing his eyebrows at you. Before you responded, he gestured to Mei, extending his hand toward her. “Who’s this?”

“Hi! Mei Sato,” she introduced herself, returning his offer for a handshake. “We work together but I just work at the front desk.”

“Hey, no need to sell yourself short here. It’s a pleasure, Sato. I’m Satoru Gojo.”

Gojo leaned closer to you, and you could smell a faint hint of alcohol, perhaps he seemed like a whiskey kind of guy judging by how pungent the scent off of his breath was…? You tried not to seem to put off (not like you weren’t drinking tonight either, likely not as much as he was though), but nobody ever truly liked the smell of alcohol, did they?

“Geto hasn’t given you much trouble since we last spoke, yeah?” he asked, tone laced in curiosity and slightly slurred, indicating he might’ve had a bit too much tonight for his own good. You tried to ignore that part, focusing on the conversation rather than his drunken state.

You shook your head, offering a small smile as if to reassure him. “I haven’t heard from him since he took his girls home.”

You froze as Gojo patted your head, his touch tender and affectionate and completely out of left field for you. From the corner of your eye, Mei shot you a knowing look with a grin of her own, making a sucking-off motion with her hand and mouth and you wanted to tell her off right then and there!

“Good,” Gojo replied, keeping his hand on the crown of your head for longer than necessary. “He really is bad news and has a few screws loose. Take it from someone who knew him well.”

You exchanged a glance with Mei, whose jaw dropped at that plot twist. That was…a revelation if you ever had one.

“Stay out of trouble, ‘kay?” he saluted you before twisting on his heel. Not before bidding farewell to Mei out of decency, but he didn’t seem that interested in her more than you.

Mei covered her mouth from his view and mouthed, “How drunk is that guy?”

“Might be a lightweight,” you mouthed back.

“Shoko!” You both jumped as you heard Gojo yell giddily at a friend, perhaps. A very beautiful red-haired woman who seemed too absorbed in her own world to care about Gojo. “Just the girl I wanted to see! What a sight for sore eyes!”

“How many have you had already, Gojo?” ‘Shoko’ seemed beyond fed up with Gojo’s antics, in the middle of lighting a cigarette. “I thought you swore off alcohol.”

You and Mei giggled at the exchange.

“Alright, I’m stuffed. We should head home. You going to be alright?” Mei asked.

You smiled. “Of course. I’m happy having friends like you.”

“Hey, we’re sisters forever and don’t you forget it,” Mei replied with a smile. Before she could pay the check, you swiped it from her and gave the waitress who came by your credit card instead. She gawked, glaring, and you stuck your tongue out playfully.

“Can’t let you spoil me all the time,” you teased with a wink. “Seriously, thank you, Mei. I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t have a friend like you to keep me in line.”

Mei smiled, clearly taken aback by the sincerity of your tone. “Always, girl. You do the same for me. You’re practically my rock, you know.”

“GOJO! GET YOUR GRUBBY GROSS HANDS AWAY FROM ME!” You both heard a woman shriek and you guys both glanced in his direction. Now he seemed to be bugging a woman with long black hair.

“Utahime~! You’re so easy to rile up,” he laughed as he towered over the girl, “You gonna cry again you wittle baby?”

“NO! AND I AM OLDER THAN YOU DAMMIT! You’re such a piece of shit!”

The two looked like they were going to face off.

“Oh God,” Shoko sighed, burying her head in her hand.

“You’re not going to win a husband with that attitude,” Gojo teased with a wag of his finger.

You shook your head. “Gojo’s still a man, I guess.”

“Yep,” Mei conceded as she watched the scene unfold with you. “Shall we be off?”

When you paused in front of your apartment door, you froze upon seeing a box addressed to you.

‘Sweets for my sweet little lamb.

-Suguru Geto’

You snapped a photo of this and sent it to Gojo, who, might not be able to have a proper response until after he treated that killer hangover he would definitely have tomorrow morning.

True to your nature, your inclination to be curious got the better of you and you decided to open the box, only to find more, smaller boxes. Each came with a slip of paper taped to the back explaining its contents. Sweets from different corners of the world, Suguru claimed in the first main slip of paper, and some remark about how humans scrambled for sweets the same way monkeys scrambled for their bananas, which had you raise an eyebrow. You opened some other boxes, which contained expensive jewelry. You weren’t an expert, but given Geto’s status, these were certainly real jewels, diamonds, pearls, gold…and you were pondering selling them to the nearest pawn shop for quick money.

The box on the bottom caught your eye, especially with what the note attached to it stated.

‘I met with one of your patients…the night the twins got admitted.’

At that moment, your blood ran cold as the worst of your thoughts swam like schools of krill away from a whale in your mind. Asuka…Asuka, that poor defenseless girl, he didn’t mean her, did he? Did he have something to do with her dying so suddenly? With trembling hands, you pried open the lid of the thinner black box, to find—

--you shrieked, face gone as blank as a canvas; your worst nightmare realized. This man held little regard for the lives of others.

The blood-soaked teddy-bear Asuka cradled her entire stay. The one you bought for her as a token of comfort. You remembered the way Asuka’s tiny hands clutched this very pink teddy bear during those endless chemo sessions, her pale, tired face lightening up only when you waltzed in to treat her an comfort her or to tell her the latest gossip of her favorite Korean Pop band to distract her from the pain.

While nothing about this particular teddy bear stood out, you just picked it up from the souvenir shop attached to the hospital; the only thing remarkable about it was that you made sure it was pink, Asuka’s favorite color…now it was completely stained red in her blood.

Another note had been attached in a ribbon, also stained with her blood. Your trembling hands held it, as you tried to make out what it said.

‘Do consider a stay in the temple if you wish no more harm to come to your patients…or your colleagues.’

That sick son of a bitch!

She didn’t deserve that!

She was an innocent, young girl! She barely got to live a life!

Only caught in the crossfire between you and a madman.

You tried to quell your tears, as a presence approached you. Sniffling, you glanced up to meet the electric blue eyes of Satoru Gojo.

“You sober up quick,” you observed, attempting to wipe away the now dried blood on your hands on your clothes, which had you wince.

Gojo’s typical smug expression faded as he gazed upon you with those sky blue eyes, at your tear-stained face, his lips pursed.

“I came here as soon as I got your text.”

“How did you know where I—?” You paused, reconsidering that question. “Don’t answer that, actually.”

“I’m so sorry,” he began, his tone remorseful. “I told you—he’s dangerous, completely out of his mind. I should tell you that he has committed countless heinous acts like this. I won’t get into detail just yet. Once he decides to go after something, he won’t stop, especially if his conviction in his cause is strong.”

The blood drained from your face, your breath hitching as the gravity of Suguru’s actions overwhelmed you like a tidal wave, a heavy weight on your shoulders like you were suddenly responsible for all of this. All of this needless suffering. Even though just weeks ago you never gave a damn about who Suguru Geto was, and he didn’t even give a damn about who you were, either.

This defenseless, frail little girl he killed, to him she was just another casualty in his hands and was nothing more than a means to an end, which sickened you to your core. Your stomach twisted as bile threatened to rise in your throat, as a memory flashed of Asuka thanking you for your service.

How could someone be this cruel; how could someone hold such little regard for someone like Asuka? Another image of Asuka’s strained smile flashed in your head, her pigtails bouncing as she laughed at some joke you cracked that only a child would find funny.

“She was just a child, Gojo!” you shouted, vision bleary through your endless streams of tears. “Just a child! How could he do something like this?”

Gojo’s face went bleak, his own frustration for his former friend apparent. “I can’t tell you for sure. I want to give you an answer that makes sense. Believe me, I do. There’s no logic to his madness anymore. There never has been. He’s beyond reason, and that’s what makes him so dangerous.”

“Burn this.” You gestured to the box full of sweets and jewelry and the blood-stained teddy-bear, kicking at the box. “Burn it! Why are you still looking at me like that!? BURN IT!”

“Hey, hey, come on…” Gojo tried to comfort you, pulling you into an embrace (if you’d allow it), shushing you and attempting to help quell your sobbing. He admired how soft you felt in his arms, but tried to ignore those feelings, focusing on you instead, on your wellbeing. He came secondary here. Your safety was the number one priority for him. “Let me help you inside. Don’t worry about that. I’ll dispose of it. What do you want me to do with the teddy bear?”

“Dispose of it too,” you replied through uncontrollable sniffles, hastily wiping the continuous tears. “I can’t let her parents find that.”

You allowed him into your apartment, which had been the first time you let a man into your place since…well, college, actually.

Gojo hummed, eyes scanning the cozy apartment—even if it did look like it was in desperate need of a remodel. Small but filled with personality, just like you. You barely noticed his words. Your hands still trembled, your eyes kept darting between the door and the windows, half-expecting Suguru to show up.

“Quaint,” he remarked, eyeing the walls aligned in bookshelves filled to the brim with a variety of medicinal textbooks, and books and various studies written by medical professionals. There had even been some novels here and there, mostly focused on science fiction and fantasy. Gojo’s eyes flitted over the rows of books, pausing at the familiar figures of heroes and villains from comic books and fantasy worlds. A small smile tugged at his lips as he spotted an Aragorn figure next to a Batman one.

“Big reader?” he asked in a gentle tone, taking note of the way your shoulders still tensed up, and how distant your eyes were.

You managed a curt nod, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper, worn from the crying.

“Kind of have to be,” you answered, as your eyes landed on the sea of books. “But yeah, it’s one of the few things that keep me sane.”

As your sobs subsided into quieter sniffles, you saw Gojo’s tension easing slightly. You offered him a reassuring smile, however strained. You sauntered off to clean yourself off with a shower, and he made himself at home far too quickly for your tastes as he sprawled himself out on your only velvet green couch.

When you came back in more casual attire, you perked an eyebrow.

“So, who were those girls you were talking to at the pub?”

“Colleagues,” he replied as he glanced up at you, taking in the sight of you in your pajamas but deciding to spare you any comments given what just happened. “I’ve known them since high school.”

“Oh. Cool,” you said, fidgeting in your spot. “Where’d you go to high school?”

“The place I teach at now,” he replied. “It’s some Buddhist school.”

“Oh, so you teach?” you hummed in understanding. “That explains the uniform you usually wear.”

“Ah, yeah, they’re pretty particular about that stuff, even if I am a Sensei,” he said with a wave. “But that’s all boring work stuff. No one likes to hear me yap about it. My students are out on mission trips, and they won’t be back for another month or so probably since they’re out of Japan.”

“Mission trips?” you asked out of curiosity, joining him on your couch. “Oh, uh, how rude of me. Do you want some tea or something?”

“Nah, I’m okay. Thanks for offering,” he assured you with a smile. “And yeah. You know, going around, talking to people about Buddhism and stuff. Preaching. Volunteer work. All that hunk of shit…”

You scrunched your eyebrows. Something about this didn’t add up, but you decided not to pry too much. You figured Gojo would reveal key information in due time.

“So…did Geto attend this school of yours too?”

“Ah, you’re an intelligent one. I can see why you’re a nurse,” he chuckled as he adjusted his posture. “Yes, he did. He was in the same year as me. But he got expelled, when all that stuff went down.”

You weren’t sure how delicately you should approach the topic, but how else were you going to know unless you asked? Or at least…tried to gain some kind of understanding? Maybe it was the training and education instilled in you, but you wanted to get all of the pieces of the puzzle yourself.

“Why did he…become this way?”

Gojo met your eyes, and you bit back a gasp at how intense his eyes could be up close.

“I wish I knew.”

For a brief moment the pain he often masked flashed in his eyes, and you were taken aback, your breath hitching. Had he been closer to Geto once before than he let on…?

“It would be selfish of me to keep you here,” you said after a period of silence.

He took your hand in his. “Will you be alright?”

“Not now,” you admitted, but you managed a smile, even if you must have looked rough with your blood shot eyes from all of that crying. “But I will be. I always am.”

“Atta girl,” Gojo encouraged with a grin. You bade him farewell, not before offering him a little token of appreciation (just lent him a book), and he disposed of the ‘gifts’ Suguru sent to you for your sake.

You had never been more grateful for a man in your life until you met Satoru Gojo.

-- -- -- -- --

Another restless night. Tossing, turning, those numerous eyes back and fixated on you. Cold sweats. The wind knocked out of your body every time you shot back awake, alone in what should be the comforting darkness of your room but you wished someone could hold you and tell you everything was alright, that you were safe, that nothing would get you. For as long as you could remember, the only shoulder you had to lean on had been your own. Now you had Mei. Now you had Gojo, but you didn’t wish to push them more. You learned your own self-soothing methods for your own reasons.

Throughout the next weeks, you couldn’t ignore more signs of meddling. Mei pulled you aside and told you she needed to go on leave, complaining about how since that night at the restaurant, she hadn’t been able to hold down any food. She needed to be taken to proper care to manage these symptoms she couldn’t understand herself. She promised you she’d keep you updated. Some of your patients disappeared. Some stopped calling, checking in on loved ones admitted.

Colleagues began to act strangely around you, inquiring of your well being, inquiring whether you should go on leave yourself.  

Wherever you went, it felt like someone followed you. You didn’t have a moment of reprieve from the torment. Even when you tossed your head over your shoulder and saw nothing, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. You had nothing to protect you at the moment. Not too long ago, Gojo told you of some emergency going on at work, and that he had to accompany his students who were still away on those mission trips. He wasn’t going to be back for a while, so you had to fend for yourself for the time being.

Each night, more nightmares plagued you. More hands all over your body. More cold sweats.

More exhaustion.

You found it harder and harder to fight it off and the only person to lean on was yourself.

-- -- -- -- --

Expectedly, your situation didn’t improve for you at all.

Each passing day, every near freak accident you deftly avoided frayed at the edges, and your swore you would lose your mind at any given moment. You’d just stand idly at a cross walk, and a car would nearly zoom over your foot. While you organized your home, objects would fly across the room and shatter. You felt like everything began to fall around you—every shadow you came across now a threat, every creak of the floorboards of your apartment a vow that Suguru was watching you, closely, with that diabolical glint in his eyes. Not even sleep could grant you any true reprieve; still plagued with nightmares, still plagued with cold sweats and sensations of hands roaming all over your body. The comfort of your bed and your solitude couldn’t save you. Every time you tried to sleep, you saw the malicious flash of his smile, his mocking cackle.

And even that churning feeling in your stomach returned, suddenly unable to hold any food you consumed. Frequent visits to the toilet each night worsened your already mucked up sleep schedule.

After you deftly dodged another near death experience, you sprinted down your street toward your apartment. You didn’t focus on the things in front of you, which led you to crash into the last man you ever wanted to see at a time like this.

“Why are you in such a rush, my dear?” Suguru cooed as he helped you back on your feet, refusing to let you go, though. He tightened his grip on you, and you stared up at him with a defiant glint in your eyes.

“I just want to get home,” you retorted. “Please. I don’t want any trouble, Suguru.”

“There will be no trouble at all, my love, although,” he trailed off, eyes flitting to the things around you, and your hairs stood on end as that cold, prickly feeling came on again. “It seems there are more of thees damned spirits I must exorcise from you. A stream of bad luck, lately?”

Your face hardened, gawking at him like he’d sprouted five new heads. “How do you know about these things?”

“It’s what I do,” he replied, tone even. “Perhaps you found unexplained cold spots in your home. Objects flying across the room. Your things knocking over. Occasionally you feel like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. And some nights, you dream you’re being assaulted.”

“But…!”

“And let me guess, you’ve also had symptoms that are akin to food poisoning. Unable to hold your food down. Like that friend of yours. That blonde receptionist.”

Where was Gojo when you needed him the most?

He cupped your face, gazing down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes.

“I can make it disappear, my love. All of it. But you must cooperate with me. If you are having those dreams, you must allow me to exorcise it…in a way I know I don’t have to explain to you. Some of these spirits aren’t so easy to absorb, you see.”

Did you really have any options at the moment? How much longer could you wait for Gojo to return before you died from another freak accident?

Lips pursued, you nodded. You led him to your apartment, and you allowed him to rest you on your bed.

“I do wish there was another way to exorcise these stronger spirits,” Geto said in a remorseful tone. “Thank you for trusting me.”

But you didn’t. Never in a million years would you ever willingly trust Geto, or believe in these spiritual whoo whoo stuff, but if he could help you, like he did before…shouldn’t you just accept the help when Gojo wasn’t here to do that?

A low wisp of your skirt and underwear flying across the room caught your attention, and you dared to look down as he spread your legs, bony fingers cold against your bare, supple skin.

“Trust me, my love, I’ll make this worth it.”

He pressed his fingers between your folds, and you choked on a gasp. He hummed in approval, inspecting the slick already building up.

“My, my, this is a concern,” he purred, “Allow me to make it all disappear.”

He lowered his mouth to you, closing over that sensitive nub filled with nerves, and your fingers dug into your sheets. You tried not to enjoy it, but he was being kind, focused on your relief, not just from these ‘spirits’ he claimed to have haunted you.

Each orgasm he coaxed out of you mounted to such a degree you never thought possible. He drew little patterns with the tip of his tongue between your soaked, sopping folds.

He managed three. Three orgasms. Each more mind-blowing than the last.

Finally, he pulled away, licking off his fingers drenched in your slick and letting out a lewd groan.

“Absolutely divine,” he praised, “Luckily these spirits don’t need the full meal to be exorcised. You’re welcome, my dear.”

“Do let me know if you sleep easier tonight,” he finished with a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll help you clean up.”

-- -- -- -- --

Geto: sleeping better, my dear?

You stared at the screen through blood shot eyes. 3:33AM. Not at all since you opened those gifts he sent you, or that night when he stole you away, but he likely had a fair idea already. Ignoring the rage boiling in your blood, you typed up a response; you knew you couldn’t make him angry or test his patience.

You couldn’t let him snap—not again. No more blood on your, or his hands.

You: no.

Geto: really? Perhaps I might need to pay you another visit, exorcise those demons from you once and for all.

You: I’d rather you didn’t, that night was a mistake.

Geto: my dear…please. Never say that. While I wish our first time was under different circumstances, I quite enjoyed myself.

You: you’re a sick bastard

Geto: darling, you look absolutely repulsive when you’re sad. Fix yourself up before I come get you.

Your eyes flitted to the window, only to see no one there.

You: you piece of shit…

Suddenly, before you could think, everything faded to black.

When you woke up again, you didn’t meet your own ceiling. You weren’t in your room. The ceilings were much higher, and upon further inspection, you noticed that the room was devoid of any true personality, and only contained the cushion which you rested upon. You realized your head pounded incessantly, and you clutched it, groaning as you struggled to remember what happened.

“Welcome home, my love.” Chills danced up your spine at the sound of a voice you hoped not to hear for a while. As you adjusted, you realized your legs were chained to the wall across from you, and you shot a glare at the man standing at the door.

“Scream all you like,” he laughed as his lips stretched into a sadistic grin, matching his equally manic features. “No one will hear you, and no one will help you. Satoru certainly won’t any time soon.”

You didn’t scream. You wanted to, but you bit into your cheek so hard you drew blood, feeling some of that metallic tang rush onto your tongue. You refused to give him that satisfaction.

“What do you want?” you spat, but in spite of the strength in your tone, your lower lip quivered and you hated yourself.

“My motives are simple, darling,” he replied as he approached you, and you wished you had the power to crawl away but the chains to your legs prevented such autonomy. “You. You are what I want. I’ve never seen such an anomaly like you amongst filthy humans—someone who radiated purity. I wish to harness that purity, to shield you from the horrors of the world, inflicted by species as invasive as those worthless monkeys.”

You jumped at the sheer vindictiveness in his tone.

“You must see it within yourself, my love,” he purred, resting on his knees as his eyes raked your form up and down. “You have such a strength to you, such a beauty that is unmatched, and I am a simple man beyond my ambitious dreams. I need such a strong force to ground me, especially if I intend to see through on my plans…”

Your jaw locked as he rested a hand on your knee.

“I desire someone who cannot break,” he added with a sadistic laugh. “No matter what happens.”

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t relent, tightening his grip on your knee and pulling you toward him until your eyes were level with his. In spite of the situation you found yourself in, you glared, and that only seemed to make him giddy.

“You are exactly the partner I need,” he whispered, pressing a possessive kiss to the crown of your head, which made you whimper. “In the new world I hope to create. Even if you aren’t a sorcerer, you are perfect for me, my dear. You have already taught me that perhaps there are some exceptions. Not all humans were built weak, after all. Some can adapt to a world ran by sorcerers, the peak of human evolution.”

Sorcerers? What the hell kind of drugs was this guy snorting?

“You will help bridge the gap between who is worthy and who isn’t, my love,” he went on, running a hand through your hair and cooing at you like you were his pet. “You will be that beacon of hope for those who desire to live when I rid the world of the weak monkeys.”

“Stop touching me,” you demanded once more, but of course, he didn’t relent. He didn’t humor you for a moment, pressing another feathery kiss to your forehead.

“Rest, my dear,” he finished, pulling away. “For tomorrow you begin your new life in our little family. The twins will be so happy to see you here safe and sound.”

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Kiss The Girl 🫶🌹

I don't need to tell you twice

All the ways hе can't suffice

If I could give you some advicе

I would leave with me tonight

Dove Cameron - Boyfriend

🫶💕

Hawkins is hosting a Valentine's dance, your boyfriend has treated you like shit yet again, Eddie decides he's had enough of your loser bf and plans to steal you away from him. 🌹

I had an ask from @itdobe-foggy that said to listen to Boyfriend by Dove Cameron and you telling Eddie about your loser ex. I did listen to it and thought of Eddie stealing you from your shitty loser boyfriend because he knows he could be a better boyfriend ❤️

Angst, fluff, minors shoo! 18+, Eddie is a little bit of a shit in this but we love him for it 🤭🌹

Valentines Day Fic 🌹🧸🫶💕

If you have any mini Valentines fic requests then send me an ask 🥰

🫶

Eddie hated Valentines, hated the hearts and the cheesy love songs, those god awful romantic movies and pretty much everything about it.

He was much more drawn to Halloween, unfortunately that was months away and he had to endure this hell instead. Normally he would be far far away from any Hawkins High dance but this was the Valentines Dance.

Most importantly you would be here. His secret crush. Eddie was God damn sure that he was falling hard for you. It was so easy, so easy to fall for your sweetness, you were beautiful inside and out, a true rare sweetheart in this shit hole of a town.

Eddie would ask you out in a heartbeat if it wasn't for your dickhead boyfriend. He really was a butthead, didn't know how to treat a princess like you.

But Eddie did.

He looks around at the decorations for the dance in distaste, pink was everywhere. Pink balloons, pink streamers, love spell punch, Valentines themed food and shitty cheesy music that made his ears bleed.

Still be would deal with all of this just to see you.

Gareth nudges him and he smiles-probably looking like a goofy idiot but he doesn't care as you walk in to the gym in a flowing red dress, lips painted cherry red and you're wearing heels that defy gravity.

Then Eddie notices how sad you look, the not so hidden red rimmed eyes and he fumes silently.

Hastily he grabs the wildflowers he picked for you from the field near the trailer, hopes they make you smile as he holds them out to you.

The beaming smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat "Eddie thank-you, you're so sweet" you kiss his cheek and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at the feel of your lips on his skin.

"Uh no problem sweetheart. Where's Peter?" he asks causally and you frown. The smile disappears from your lips and he kicks himself for asking, it's obvious you didn't want to talk about Peter.

"Around here somewhere. He decided talking to his oh so pretty chem partner was more important that accompanying his own girlfriend to the dance" you wave it off like it doesn't bother you but Eddie knows it does, hates the way your pretty eyes look so downcast.

"Why are you with him? Jesus h christ, I mean he's awful sweetheart'' you nod and look down, a sad expression on your face.

"I've told him it's over so many times but he's such an arrogant ass that he pays not attention, even when I avoid him it's like he makes it his mission to be the biggest jackass possible" Eddie listens to this, tries to hide his growing rage. Kinda wants to hit Peter right in his stupid face.

Not that he's much or a fighter. He prefers his battles strictly in the realms of D&d. Still you don't get labelled as the town freak, have assholes riling you up on the daily and trying to pick at you and not know how to fight dirty.

"He's a fucking dickhead princess, you could do so much better. Deserve the best. You could have anyone you wanted" he holds out his hand you squeeze it softly, give him a sweet smile.

"Anyone?" you repeat with an impish smile and there's a deep tension in the air, it wraps around the two of you. Eddie has felt this before but never knew if he should do anything about it.

Now? Well now he was going to steal you from your douchebag boyfriend and he couldn't give two fucks if Peter hated it. He had watched that asshole make you grow sadder week by week, heard the arguments in the hallways.

You deserved to be treated like a princess and Eddie was more than up for the task. If you wanted to be with him, then he was for damn sure going to be the best boyfriend possible.

"Anyone sweetheart, Peter doesn't deserve you, I could be your boyfriend and I'd be better than him in every fucking way" he says fiercely.

Eddie can see the longing in your eyes, the way his own heart skips several beats as to what happens next. He really wants to kiss you, instinctively he moves forward just as you do and he pulls you into his arms for a kiss that makes both of your heads spin, goofy smiles on your faces.

"Eddie Munson. If I didn't know any better I'd say you had a plan all along to steal me away from my shitty boyfriend" you tease him and he smirks.

"Is my plan working princess?'' you answer him with another kiss then take his hand to lead him somewhere more private.

🌹

"What the fuck!!''

Eddie peers up pissed off, his hand caressing your thighs, lips pressed to your neck and gives your boyfriend a dirty look as he grips your thighs gently and you hum in frustration, tug on his hair a little so he can continue.

Peter splutters as he takes in the scene, looks between you and Eddie who stares defiantly back at him.

"What the fuck... I heard moaning, I thought... he trails off as Eddie stands up and fixes your dress. Picks up his leather jacket and tucks you into it, admires how incredible you look in his clothes.

"Beautiful, he sighs then turns to Peter, do you fucking mind? We're busy. Oh and dickhead that noise that's so unusual to you is your girl enjoying herself... Must be such a rarity with you, I know"

You hide your smile and snuggle into Eddie who tugs you closer to him. He feels on top of the world.

"She's my girlfriend Munson" Peter rages, Eddie shakes his head and points to the door.

"Not anymore. Fuck off" he snaps and Peter must sense the irratation in Eddie's tone as he flees.

"Asshole you mutter, he'll be back in Rita's arms by Monday. Shit, maybe we should have went to yours Eddie"

He looks around the janitors closet and kisses your hair. "You were so insistent to come in here sweetheart. How can I say no to my princess?''

Fuck, he doesn't think he will ever be able to say no to you, your pout and pleading expression will be the death of him.

"Let's go to yours" you nod and take his hand leading him outside, your giggles filling the air.

This Valentines Day wasn't so bad Eddie muses, after all he pissed off a jackass, had a decent time and best of all he got the girl.

❤️

[sameschmidtdiffname]

adding to the headcanons, big fan of the gale returning to d12 and before he even sees them he hears from everyone else about the annoyingly in love huntress-baker couple. and he doesn’t think it’s them because he never knew what a romantic sap katniss is and he refuses to think she would have wild sex with windows open. but then he has to witness them and it’s not even in your face capitol romance, it’s them looking 😍at each other and touching each others face tenderly. and the cherry on the top is a slight glimpse he sees of a hickey on peeta.

NAWWWWWWWW he'd see that hickey and be out of commission for days on that one. I don't care what healing he does post-war, I don't care if he's got hickies of his own. He's gonna see Peeta "I'm Getting That Everdeen-Everschmeat Daily Prescription" Everdeen-Mellark with that pep in his step and inability to sit down giving googly moogly 'she fucks me' eyes to Katniss "I Did That" Everdeen-Mellark with that permanent smirk stuck on her face just openly smacking her husband's ass in front of the whole district because fuck it, she won two Hunger Games and a war, she can be a perv in public, and he's calling his therapist (Dr. Aurelius really just wants a normal call. For once. One client.)

(I feel like Peeta tries to generally hide his marks until he finds out Gale is in the District. Then he's having freakier than usual, door slamming, gravity defying, he broke his fake leg again rompin' and showing off his Feral Katniss™️ bite marks openly and in front of everyone. When Katniss realizes this he gets grounded for two weeks) (which just makes his attitude worse) (this is what prompts the events leading to the goose)

[bbraefairy]

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS - black!reader, f!reader, oral sex, teasing, 18+ characters. for the black girlies but readers of all ethnicities are welcome to enjoy!

a/n - my first time writing in this fandom. sumn for me to get used to, so i started off easy. lmk how u guys like it, & if u want more!

ִ ࣪𖤐༄

“I love when you do this in the morning.” Your soft voice tumbled out of your lips.

Megumi was rough around the edges, tender at the core. The world saw a stoic, bothered man, but with you, Megumi was everything soft and sweet.

You wore a white, french-styled lace bralette, and a thong to match. Your stomach was flat on the white silk linen, one cheek set on the silken pillowcase. Petals of carnations and roses were adorned around your body. Lavender candle, crackling and dripping molten wax on the nightstand.

Just because he wanted to.

The morning was an invitation to become agents of dreams and loving actions. Rays of sunlight doused your room with pools of amber and gold. The gust through the windows gracefully lifted the curtains as a gift of freshness. The sky was a blend of smudged stars, argent, and ivory clouds that flowed across the sky in the form of broken verses.

“I know you do.” Megumi’s hand’s, lathered in thick shea butter, pressed from your lower back, up to your shoulder blades. His fingers splayed firmly as he did so, compressing deep-seated passion into your well-melanated flesh.

Megumi was all for helping you unravel into your feminine and romantic persona. He was aware that the world was misogynistic and dominated by the patriarchy, with little to no concern of minorities— such as black women. He was invested in caring for you, helping you on wash days, buying some of your favorite hair and skin care, reading some of Maya Angelou’s poetry with you. He wasn’t afraid to embrace and delve into your culture.

There was no way he was going to love a woman without embracing her full being. Who she was, where she came from, what she experiences, why she interacts with the world the way she does, how such an epitome can exist at the same time as her. He made it his daily and utmost duty to care for you, even when it was hard to, even when it hurt.

Megumi kneaded his strong hands on the expanse of your shoulders, letting out a breath as he lined your figure with his touch. Hips patterned with marks that showed the capacity of a woman to grow and change. Curves and dips to show that you are a muse, a piece of art not to be reckoned with. Childhood scars, birthmarks, hyperpigmentation.

He loved you in full.

“Your skin, it’s so, so gorgeous.” He watches the butter pave paths of rich oil and glisten on your arms.

You let out a soft noise of delight, “Thank you, Megumi.”

Megumi gathers more of the raw extract and slips his hands down the back of your thighs, going down, then up, right below your behind.

Megumi’s voice, commanding, “Open up a little for me, angel.”

You spread your legs a bit, then Megumi dips his hands between your inner thighs. You contort a bit as his grasp reaches a sensitive cluster of nerves. Then his hands return to the outer thighs, then up the spine again.

Megumi progresses, smoothing his hand over your afro-textured hair that was concealing your face. The curls are gravity-defying and abundant. Your hair stands proud to Megumi’s touch, and he smiles. He always loved how strong-willed your hair appeared, it was just like you.

He peppers delicate, deep and languid kisses on the slope of your neck. Megumi’s lips wander to the terrain of your back. He kissed, sucked there. Dragged his hand on your hip, held the hip in place.

Megumi was following up his hand massage with a series of radiant kisses. Down the spine that bound the body of a plethora of dark and hidden mysteries. His hands ran across the shape of some more of your figure as he continued to press his lips on areas of your body.

You closed your eyes. Listened to his kisses growing hotter as they neared your thighs. Heard the quickening breath he was breathing. Feeling his touch start to lose focus.

It was all happening slowly but surely, but you were going to wait until Megumi said something.

You knew within yourself, you were a cascade of sensations and a symphony of desire.

Way before the shea butter.

There it was.

Urgent, but expected.

He paused.

Whispered. Tone covered in imperfect lust.

“Sweetheart, do me a favor,” The urge was welling up from his depths this time around. This was one of the times you knew there was a second part to the morning routine.

“Bend your back ‘nd let me eat you.”

“I was waiting to hear you say that,” You smiled, getting on all fours, “It’s one of those mornings, isn’t it, babe?”

Megumi sighed as your back formed into an arch, “Think so. We gon’ find out.”

Megumi slipped off the thong, put it aside. Clapped his hand on your ass, squeezed it, making you squeal.

“I’mma eat you out as a starter,” He lines his fingers just above your folds, semi-soaked in arousal. “Pussy’s prettier than the last time I left her.”

Megumi felt the adrenaline ebbing his body as he wiped his tongue on a piece of Heaven between your thighs. Your teeth clench, you brace your body for the cunnilingus.

His oral performance. You were the stage, and he was the show.

Megumi traced detailed circles on your oil-spread lower back and thigh. “Flinchin’ already, angel? I taught you better than that.”

You husked, “Megumi, please don’t tease me. Not this time.”

“There’s never gonna be a time where I don’t tease you, sweet girl.” Megumi gave your umber pussy lips crude, salacious sucks, drawing a whine from you.

Your pussy was like the petals of a flower. Blossoming with an itch only he could scratch. Every interstice and layer was asymmetrical. Seeping with nectar as he paid homage to your special place.

He licked his middle and ring fingers, then dipped them in your essence, feeling the rosé interiors close around him.

There was no pretense, his pulls and pushes were as hot as fire. Raging fire. He gives that coral pink clit, so solitary and vain, the most obscene suckle he could manage. Your composure was wilting. He’s licking, fingering, pulling taut, thrusting deep, making you elementally vulnerable to expanding and contracting. To Megumi, you were sweet succulent fruit and shooting stars.

“Fuck, Megumi— Fuck.” You were slipping up now, the words in your mouth were hoarse. Your legs contract together when you feel his fingers strike a nest of nerves and a deep corner.

Megumi spanned his touch down your shea-buttered back just one more time. He loved the slip. He loved the soothing. He loved the sex.

Megumi laughed as he submerged himself in saturated, vulva flesh. His ultraviolet tongue with dust of gold. “You found your words, princess.”

Megumi knew you always had your guard up, and that you always felt like your emotions had to walk on eggshells. Again, Megumi was always ready to be that place for you to take off the armor, and land and unravel.

Megumi was relentless. Ate some more from those secret lips. Curled his fingers in your honeyed abyss, put his wrist in it. Slapped your ass again ‘cuz he knew you liked it like that. Sweet as fuck— was his sticky, hot whisper. You were craving an orgasm at the core, and were reduced to a lack of self control.

You wondered if your bones should break.

You winced, feeling the rip currents of his desire split through you. “Yes, God, fuck.”

Megumi was a hound of lust, his growls were the lightning and your moans were the thunder.

His hands, slick with shea, dirty with you. He deepens your arch by pressing down on your back. Tongue busy, fingers sodden. “Mhm, that’s my girl. Talk me through it.”

Your mouth, clustered with buttered prose. Your hands twining around the linen. Teeth biting down on the pillow. The tremors make you feel dark and twisted. You’re blending hot curves and mystic chimes of the tongue.

You shrill into the pillow, feeling the chronic ache birth at your spoiled-rotten core, “Megumi! You’re so deep— Oh, God, please.”

He asked, voice grated, "Am I?"

"Yes," You whine, the tension is building pressure inside of your mind. "You are, and I'm on the way."

He knew when it was coming. He watched for your legs to lock like steel. Watched the dark tawny palace between your legs breathe with ready alabaster. Listened to your breath snag with a curse. Observed the convulsion of energy from the zenith of the spine to the nadir of the same.

“Cum for me, angel. I’m a keeper.”

He knew when it was coming. He watched for your legs to lock like steel. Watched the dark tawny palace between your legs breathe with ready alabaster. Listened to your breath snag with a curse. Observed the convulsion of energy from the zenith of the spine to the nadir of the same.

Your chasm drenched and released, flowed with ivory. You dissolve in ripe sounds of delight. You were served to him hot.

There she is, I knew you had it in you, angel, he praises.

You were light and fluffy, he takes your buttery-rich residue, hums when he gets a flavor. Spits between the folds to gather more.

He opens your mouth with his fingers, pushes them down gently.

His brusque instruction. “Suck,” And you do with a soft groan.

His jade eyes contrast with your almond, he deepens his fingers a bit. It makes your stomach crunch

“Atta girl,” Megumi kisses your full lips with care. "Did you enjoy your morning?”

You said, tone ragged from sex. “Yes, I did. Good Lord, can you eat pussy good.”

there it was

the flavor of you still marinating on his tongue

and

the golden threads of light and

the crisp breeze

ruffled amongst the linen and rose petals

lavender candle still sputtering

and creamed, lavish butter

spilled from your sacred canvas

and down your thighs

[hardly-an-escape]

Fluffbruary Day 19

gonna try to do a little daily drabble just to get the creative juices going while I work on longer WIPs. no guarantees that it'll be every day.

Dream/Hob • rated T • tea cakes | flood | feature

Whatever Dream is expecting when he arrives for a visit with his only friend, it’s not… this.

Half the inn has been partitioned by velveteen curtains, converted to a stage. A giant pair of garishly red papier maché lips float above it. And upon the stage – wearing thigh high stockings, a remarkably sturdy corset, and a pair of gravity-defying heels – is Hob Gadling.

He is strutting. There is no other word for it.

“Science fiction,” he croons. “Double feature.”

His lips are the same garish red as the papier maché.

And Dream feels something he hasn’t for a long time…

prompt list!

@moorishflower put the idea of Hob and Rocky Horror in my head ages and ages ago so this is for them <3

[feeblescholarmyass]

Chapter One: Tighnari

cw: panic attack/extreme anxiety, y/n is not in their bad bitch era yet so ignore how awkward they are, originally written in 3rd person so there may be some pronoun and grammatical mistakes

Sumeru boys x GN!reader

this was posted super fast because it was prewritten. I am not going to be posting daily!!!

masterlist | next

Chat: Amurta

"To be honest, I'm not all that interested in studying medicine. I think that people should also prioritize mental well-being more than the current culture in Sumeru allows. My professors don't really get that, so I just say I like flowers."

"Are you okay?"

It took you a few seconds to understand what he'd said. You opened your mouth to answer, but snapped it back shut when you felt tears start falling.

He frowned and crouched next to you, tilting his head. He took your wrist and felt your pulse, then sighed. "Oh, I see. You're alright now, don't worry."

You nodded, gulping down a whimper. "I'm s-sorry. I didn't... realize... someone else was in here." You wiped away your tears and took a shaky breath.

Are you kidding me?! We almost made it, stupid! Now you're crying again. You've cried every time you started going to a new school. That's so pathetic, you thought.

"You're fine, don't worry about me. Let me guess, first year?" He tilted his head at you, a small smile making you feel less embarrassed.

"Yeah. This place is so big... I was a little overwhelmed. A lot, actually." You shook your head, steadying your breathing.

"What's your name?" He dropped your wrist and placed his arm on his knee, resting his cheek on his palm.

"I'm Y/n." You tugged at a strand of hair.

"Alright, Y/n. What does your schedule look like? I can help show you around before classes start. You are an Amurta student, yes?" He stood, holding out a hand for you.

You looked up at him and met his eyes. Now that you weren't so nervous, you took more notice of him. He had pretty hazel-green eyes and light green streaks in his dark hair that reminded you of your aunt's hair. A golden earring hung from one of his ears. You remembered his pretty friend from before and felt a small twinge of jealousy.

What in Teyvat are all these boys so pretty for? If everyone at the Akademiya looks as pretty as them, I'll really have to up my game.

"My first class is Honors Phytology II. Here, you can look." You pulled a small notepad from a hidden crevice within the folds of your clothes. You turned to a page with your schedule written out in a neat, color-coded print.

"Hm. Honors II? Impressive, first year." He nodded appreciatively. "Come on, I don't want to cut off our tour because of class."

He opened the door of the copy room, revealing a less crowded common area than before.

You slid some of the fabric of your scarf between your fingers reassuringly. The cold material provided the necessary sensory to keep your mind from spiraling like it had before.

You looked around the room, admiring the architectural work. Sconces formed to look like blossoming vines held the small light sources that made the room practically glow. A miniature fountain surrounded by a concrete sitting area sat in the middle of the room directly underneath a fantastical chandelier. The light from the candles reflected off of the thousands of tiny crystals that drooped from the chandelier in a gravity-defying spectacle. Swirling patterns reached out from the center of the room towards the green pillars that held up the vaulted ceiling and bordered the different hallways labelled alphabetically for the subject and numerically for the floor.

"All classes that have to do with plants are normally done in the greenhouse or the lab in hallway F, which is the only hall that only has one floor. During the first semester, you're largely in the greenhouse." Tighnari motioned towards the hall. "You'll be able to find that pretty easily. As long as you know how to make it back here, you won't have to worry about any shortcuts. Those you can learn later."

"Okay," you said, trying your hardest to pay attention. Processing his words was difficult when you was still fawning over the detail put into the room. You weren't an architect, but you were an artist, so it was only natural that you appreciated something so beautiful.

You lagged further and further behind Tighnari before finally realizing how far ahead he was and hurrying to catch up.

"For the rest of your science classes, you'll be in hallway A, which is just over here. Medicinal classes are upstairs, while other sciences are on the main floor."

"Which stairway should I take? Normally one tends to have more traffic than the other, if it's at all like my old schools." You asked, finally comfortable enough to let your hands fall from their protective position by your neck.

"I'd recommend the first one during most hours, but around the end of the day, the second is probably your best bet. It's a weird phenomena that probably has to do with exhaustion and impatience."

"Hm..." You hummed to yourself, sparing a glance at the boy next to you. If only you had a photographic memory you could sketch his expression.

He stopped in his tracks, noticing your shift in attention. "What is it?"

A rush of heat climbed up your neck. "Oh, um, nothing important. Sorry if I distracted you."

He chuckled, meeting eyes with you. "If anything, I'd say I'm the one distracting you." He had a playful glimmer in his eyes, and you cursed your stomach for the summersaults it insisted on performing.

"Whaaat..? Nooo... I'd never be distracted. Never happened." You rolled your eyes and smiled.

Tighnari laughed. It was a warm sort of sound, one that made your stomach swirl and pulled your lips into a bigger grin.

He really is pretty for no good reason, isn't he? Sigh.

"We should continue our tour. Come along," he motioned them forward. He continued to explain each hallway and what classes it housed, then finally led you towards the lunch room.

It was a room even larger than the one before it. Two floors of open space with a large variety of food available to anyone who was able to pay. You felt terribly small in the huge emptiness. Imagining it being filled with people made you even more nervous.

"For anyone who wants a little more space, there is a small section for eating in the upstairs library. It's a lot quieter, and much less people go in there. Most people are there to continue studying. When do you have lunch?" He asked, leading you in a circle back to the hall.

"I've got a long break between psych and elements. My friend and I both have long enough to eat and take a break."

"Oh? A friend?"

"I do have friends, regardless of what you may think of me." You crossed your arms over your chest. Tighnari paused, conflicted between teasing you and being a welcoming upperclassman. "Her name is Layla. She's a Rhawatist student."

"Rhawatist? That must be an interesting friendship dynamic. One who studies the stars, and another who studies the earth." He let out a breath, relieved that you weren't offended by his words.

You paused and thought about it for a second. "No, I don't think it's all that strange. If anything, I think the combination of our studies would make a great research topic. Hm, maybe I should bring it up with her sometime."

Tighnari checked the time and found himself frowning. He had enjoyed talking with you once you had started to get comfortable.

"We should head to class. If you ever need anything, let me know. I am a TA, so it's my job to help students in need."

"I will. Thank you, Tighnari. I enjoyed talking with you."

"And I-" he paused, realizing he had never told you what his name was. "How did you know my name?"

"Oh," You felt a flush of heat again. You hadn't realized he didn't say it. "W-well, Layla and I were getting breakfast this morning, and we ran into you and some of your friends at a cafe. She told me your names." You tried to sink into your scarf, for once cursing the sheerness of the fabric. If you revealed the reason why you had been asking you just might die right there and then.

He laughed, the sound tickling your senses. "Sometimes I forget how curious you first years are. If you ever want me to introduce them to you, I can."

"Really?" You looked up a little too eagerly. "Oh, I mean, that would be nice. Thank you."

"Don't worry about it, I understand. See you around, Y/n. Enjoy your Phytology class. I think you'll like the teacher."

"You enjoy classes too!" You waved goodbye awkwardly before finally heading towards your classroom. The silent hallway felt oddly stifling without Tighnari's calm commentary filling the space.

"No way, really?" Layla yawned, listening as hard as she could. The poor girl looked about to fall asleep in her lunch.

"Yeah. He was super nice and even offered to introduce me to his friends we saw at the cafe. Would that be weird?" You asked. You had been going back and forth on what to do since the first day of school nerves had calmed down.

You had spent your classes so far writing down necessary materials and little notes to yourself based on first impressions. However, you had found your mind drifting elsewhere. Evidence of your thoughts were left in sketches in the margins of your paper. Rough outlines of Tighnari's hair and ears littered the back of the page you had been writing on.

"Hm, I think it would be fun. Maybe you could get Cyno to let you do a portrait of him." Layla teased. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

"At least I actually took one of the few art classes this school even offers. We don't even have a choir. If I wasn't so sure of what I wanted to do, I might regret my school choice." You tugged at an unruly lock of hair, taking a bite of you lunch.

"Speaking of Tighnari and his friends..." Layla yawned and pointed across the lunch room, where the four boys had just entered from the Kshahrewar entryway.

You glanced up and nearly spat out your food. HE!! IT'S HIM!!! PRETTY BOY!!! Well, pretty boys. Archons, please tell me I'm not making eye contact. I am making eye contact, aren't I? Shit.

You were, in fact, making eye contact. Tighnari smiled and said something to the other three. Then, to your horror, they started walking towards you and Layla.

"Layla. Layla, wake up. Layla. Fuck me, I'm on my own. I'll kill you for this, Layla." You muttered, trying to act like you hadn't been caught staring. I probably look like an idiot, she thought.

When they stopped next to the table you were sitting at, you pretended to be surprised. You looked up and smiled, hoping your nervousness wasn't as obvious as it felt. You couldn't tell if you were just paranoid or if people really were watching.

"Oh, hello again, Tighnari." You wiggled her fingers at him and glanced desperately at Layla. She was out.

"So this is the underclassman you've been going on about?" Cyno asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, this is Y/n. Y/n, meet Cyno, Kaveh, and Alhaitham." Tighnari motioned to the group behind him. "Mind if we sit with you?"

Technically, yes, you did mind. Having people watching you was one of your least favorite feelings. However, you couldn't really say that you would hate being surrounded with pretty men. On the other hand, there was Layla to worry about. She was asleep, and this was a rare opportunity where she had time to rest.

"Oh, please do. I'm Layla, Y/n's friend." Layla spoke, startling you. You shot her a glare that was met with a cheeky grin.

"I see you're awake now. Eat your lunch. I'm not going to make you extra dinner because you slept through lunch again." You prodded Layla's stomach before scooting over to make more room for the boys.

The boys joined them at the circular table. Tighnari sat next to you, and Cyno next to him. The blond one, Kaveh, sat next to Layla, and Alhaitham left. You decided it was best to not question it.

The boys chatted amongst the three of them, and Layla drifted in and out of exhaustion, sometimes lucid enough to come up with a witty response. You stuck to observing the dynamic, committing their mannerisms and speech patterns to memory for future reference.

Listening to Kaveh talk reminded you of reading a romance novel. His prose was lengthy with impressive vocabulary. He brought to mind maple syrup, with his sweet words and lofty ideals. He tended to ramble on about something or other, enjoying the act of talking along with the sound of his own voice.

Cyno's dry commentary was waved off and even discouraged by Tighnari and Kaveh, but sometimes the combination of his dad jokes and blank serious expressions made you chuckle. His sense of humor reminded you of your dad. Every time he made you laugh, it boosted his ego just a little bit. The visible way he puffed up his chest and let an almost-grin pull at his lips reaffirmed your suspicions that he would make an excellent subject of an art piece.

Best of all was Tighnari. From their interaction earlier, you could never have guessed the extent of his sarcasm. For a TA, he seemed remarkably rebellious. In your head, he had been a strange piece in the puzzle of their group. Now, however, you could see he fit in perfectly.

The only remaining mystery was Alhaitham, the boy from before.

Much too soon for your liking, your break between classes came to an end. You bid farewell to your new friends after giving them your contact information, then went on your way.

You entered the hall towards the Haravatat building, excited for your language class. Throughout school, your language classes had always been your favorite. The challenge of translating back and forth until you fell into an easy familiarity with the words and sounds of a language brought you almost as much comfort as your art class did.

This year, you were finishing the available classes for Fontaine's ancient language. Names from Fontaine had confused you to no end until she started taking the class. It wasn't the most sensible language, and your pronunciation was finicky at best, but it was a welcome difficulty. In comparison to some of your Amurta classes, it was much less dull and required a lot less group work. It was perfect for a chance to relax after lunch.

You made note of the architecture in Haravatat just as you had in Amurta with Tighnari earlier. Where the accents had been green in Amurta, here they were a dark grey. There was much less living greenery ornamenting the halls, and the lights had to be brighter to make up for the lack of brightening decorum. The harsh shine of the fluorescent lights gave you a headache.

Students here carried more textbooks than anything. The lack of precarious experiments allowed you to be less cautious while wandering in an attempt to find your classroom.

You waved your way between students who were gossiping in various languages, and finally saw the right number for your class on the wall. You let out a sigh, relieved that you weren't late.

You opened the door and slipped inside, glancing around to take note of the amount of students in the class. There weren't many, and you didn't recognize those who were there. In one of the back corners, a group of a few people stood and chatted. You made sure to choose a seat across the room from them. You sat more towards the front, but not too close for comfort.

You placed down your bag and grabbed at your scarf. You smoothed it down and checked for any loose strings. When you had assured yourself that everything was in its place, you let yourself relax.

The classroom itself had very little decoration. There was a painting of Fontaine on the front wall, but that was about it.

You sighed sadly, longing to return to Layla and your new acquaintances. At least, at the end of the day, you would be able to go home and eat the congratulatory dinner you had been planning for weeks.

You drifted off into a daydream about the foods you would be able to eat, and how amazing your sleep would be after the day's exhaustion.

Your fantasy was interrupted by a harsh voice from behind you.

"You're not from Haravatat," the voice said. It took you a moment to register what had been said. You turned to look behind you to figure out who had spoken.

You twisted around to get a good look at the person, and felt your heart leap. Fucking hell, fate is surrounding me by pretty men on purpose. I can't tell if it's a blessing or a curse.

There, placing his books on the seat behind her, was the boy that had silently left the group during lunch and never returned. His pretty blue-hazel eyes bored into your own, and you watched a strand of silver hair brush against his cheek before settling against his ear.

You swallowed, hard.

"Oh, Alhaitham, it's you."

taglist: @em-asian @hypernovaxx

let me know if you want to be added!

[sepublic]

Ah, so tonight is when Jonathan is getting particular confirmation that his host is not human… The strength could be accepted, and the command over wolves explained as Dracula being good with animals. But this, lizard fashion that defies gravity? This and the mirror are perhaps the most explicitly supernatural things Dracula has done yet, the acts that most contradict rational explanation; Which tracks with Jonathan trying to keep his sanity by sticking to logic and facts, even as his actual eyes and ears insist otherwise.

Also the gaslighting? When Dracula insists to Jonathan that if he falls asleep anywhere but his room, he’ll get weird nightmares? Setting Jonathan up to question what will happen to him if he attempts this; Because as Dracula warned him, he’d get strange dreams! So whatever happens was obviously just a dream, right? Damn, round two of Dracula Daily but as a podcast really highlights just how uneasy Jonathan feels, how his faith in his perception, and thus his grip on reality, is becoming tenuous, as is his sanity.

He’s doubting his own experiences and wondering/being told it’s all in his head, so no wonder Jonathan is so high-strung and insistent on recording everything as it happen, as if to reassure to himself and anyone who might read this that He is not insane. Because look I have the proof, the evidence put down before my memories could retroactively distort them! And it sharpens Jonathan’s perception of events, reassures him that he’s remembering and perceiving things correctly to notice all of the details, interact with them, and jot it all down.

[palatinewolfsblog]

Random Thoughts on Ascension day.

In Germany also known as Father's Day. When fathers meet up with friends. Go on a hike with handcarts full of drinks and food, forget about their daily work and problems and have a good time. The actual meaning of the day - that Jesus returns to his father - moves into the background. No problem. After all: It's just another ancient story that defies Logic and - Gravity. Right? I see it differently. And start with an even older story of a powerful ruler from the Ancient Orient who staged his personal ascension. His name is Naram Sin of Akkad. Until today we see impressive statues of him in museums and a very special stele too. A giant with a helmet with horns that emphasize his superhuman strength. We see him climbing a stairway - up to the stars. His followers right behind him. Enemies fall or are trampled under his feet. What a scenery. This guy knew how to impress others. He knew a lot about - Progaganda. I have to think of some modern powerful people who are also making their way up - at the price of people being left behind or becoming victims. Elon Musk comes to mind with his dream of reaching the stars. A leader for whom other humans are only means to an end. And then i must think of this Carpenter King from Nazareth. Who wanted to help others. Women and children, outsiders, strangers, the many victims of the powerful few. He had a dream of a better world. He had a vision of peace and social justice. And he gave his life for it. Without fear of the powerful, who tried their very worst to crush and destroy him and his friends. Ascension Day is a reminder to me that this story went on and continues to this day. Ascension Day teaches us to look ahead and up. Take courage even when things get tough. To make this world a better place. Let's try. He show us the way and will help us to succeed. Ascension Day is an reminder: Dreams and Visions can come true. Change often begins with an individual who breaks new ground and inspires others. Helps them to focus on their dreams, goals and ideals and keep moving. Remember: The sky is the limit! ;)

[thepastisalreadywritten]

You can’t keep a good dog down, Charlie Brown.

When NASA launched a mission to the moon last week, the unmanned cabin included a stuffed Snoopy in an orange flight suit.

The space beagle was among the small items that serve as “zero gravity indicators,” which visually signal that the capsule has reached “the weightlessness of microgravity.”

Turns out, the agency couldn’t have picked a better pop culture symbol:

For seven decades, Snoopy and the rest of the “Peanuts” gang have defied the forces of time, freed from the gravitational pull of trends.

The globally beloved cartoon characters still pop up daily in comic strips, books and gift shops, as well as in animated specials, both new ones and the classic holiday programs such as “A Charlie Brown Christmas” that now stream on Apple TV Plus.

“Peanuts” is in the ether as surely as the jazzy Vince Guaraldi Trio riffs that bounce along the airwaves once Christmastime is here.

This year, the headquarters of Team Peanuts in Santa Rosa, California, has another reason to hold gatherings at its museum and library and ceremonies at its ice rink:

It’s the centennial of the birth of “Peanuts” creator Charles M. “Sparky” Schulz, who was born 26 November 1922 and raised in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Schulz died in February 2000, the same weekend that his final original strip was published.

Yet what he launched into the zeitgeist in 1950 remains a cultural touchstone. On Saturday, many syndicated cartoonists will mark the centennial in their strips.

So why does “Peanuts” endure so strongly — remaining so firmly woven into the fabric of popular culture — when so many aspects of mass entertainment all but disappear?

Jeannie Schulz, widow of the cartoonist and president of the Charles M. Schulz Museum’s board of directors, puts it concisely:

“Sparky tapped into a universal humanity and translated it into simple lines with a subtle humor.”

Those elegant, poignant, slyly simple lines curled and curved their way into religion and sports and war and mental health and love unrequited.

To mark the centennial, The Washington Post asked celebrities from various areas of achievement what Schulz’s creation has meant to them.

‘As good as anything ever’

Producer Lee Mendelson approached Schulz in the mid-’60s with an idea: Coca-Cola was interested in a TV project.

Out of that seed grew one of the two greatest animated Christmas shows to emerge from that decade: a classic that, like “How The Grinch Stole Christmas,” melded the genius of artistic minds.

Schulz teamed with animator Bill Melendez and, working under a deadline of mere months, the three men created “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” a masterpiece that daringly led with its heart.

Charlie Brown battled seasonal depression, Snoopy engaged in flights of fancy and Linus Van Pelt delivered the biblical monologue that, out of the mouths of a babe, still moves viewers regardless of age or faith.

“Over the course of my life, I’ve probably watched ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ more times than any single episode of television,” late-night host Jimmy Kimmel says. “It’s one of the main reasons I decided to have more kids.”

Kimmel thinks that special reflects the larger excellence of what a boy from Minnesota ultimately gave to the world.

“As soon as our daughter Jane learned to read, I bought her all the ‘Peanuts’ anthologies,” the comedian says. “I bought an original drawing of Snoopy by Charles Schulz that may very well be a forgery. I cherish it even if it is.

“The best of Peanuts is as good as anything ever. For me, it’s one of the greatest achievements in American art and literature.”

Pixar chief creative officer Pete Docter, director of such films as “Inside Out” and “Up,” says that brilliance was firmly rooted in the comic strip, which launched in fewer than a dozen newspapers before eventually being syndicated to thousands, becoming one of the most widely read strips in the world.

“Schulz was brave enough to talk about human, adult, often non-funny things in his strip,” Docter says. “He featured kids dealing with anxiety, insecurity, jealousy, unrequited love, which gave ‘Peanuts’ a real weight and importance.”

Growing up in Minnesota himself, Docter was drawn into a world that stays with him today.

“As a kid, I was totally hooked by Snoopy and the escapist fun and humor of that character,” he says.

“But whether Schulz was conscious of it or not, it was those deeper emotional things that made me continue to read into adulthood. Those deceptively simply drawn characters have real complexity and depth."

“And besides, they’re still funny 70 years later. How many comic strips can claim that?”

Bay Area author Gene Luen Yang considers how Schulz’s comic evolved from revelation to quiet revolution.

Says Yang, author of such graphic novels as “American Born Chinese”:

“He is so influential that pretty much every strip-format comic today, whether in the newspaper or on the web, has borrowed a bit of that innovation.”

‘We stayed close’

Ever the athlete, Schulz embraced baseball, golf and hockey from a young age. He grew to love sports like tennis and these passions regularly found their way into his strip.

Before he befriended some professional athletes well into his career, though, Schulz could not have known how much he buoyed them.

“As a young skater growing up, it was always fun to see the comic strip and celebrate everything we experienced at the rink,” says figure skater Scott Hamilton, who won Olympic gold in 1984.

“To see the ‘Peanuts’ [characters] come alive on the ice made it seem like what we were doing was more than just skating. We had a place in popular culture.”

Schulz relocated to Northern California in the late ’50s, but you couldn’t take the Minnesota boyhood out of the man.

In Santa Rosa, he built the Redwood Empire Ice Arena, also known as Snoopy’s Home Ice, in 1969. And there, in the early ’80s, Hamilton began working with Schulz on ice shows.

(The skater will host “Sparky’s Ice Spectacular” at the venue on Saturday to mark the centennial.)

“Sparky was very hands-on in everything he did,” Hamilton says.

“In one of the productions I did for him, he had this dream of doing a cocktail party where I got to play the host of the party.

That character was interested in a girl at the party, but she gets swept off her feet by another guest, kind of like his stories of the Little Red-Haired Girl in the comic strip. Just when it seems he lost the girl, she comes back after all the other guests had left.”

Adds Hamilton, “To see how much Sparky loved that production made it one of my all-time favorite skating memories.”

Schulz also became a strong supporter of equality in sports, which included joining the board of trustees of the Women’s Sports Foundation, founded in 1974 by tennis icon and civil rights activist Billie Jean King, to “advance the lives of women and girls through sports and physical activity.”

Schulz would not only draw Snoopy serving aces. He would also reference his friend King.

“Sparky was actually very shy, and his comic strips were a great source of inspiration and comfort for me, especially as I traveled the world during my tennis career,” King says.

“I knew if he added my name to a ‘Peanuts’ strip, he was checking in on me and wanted to have a chat.

“We stayed close until he passed, and I will always cherish that.”

’A perfect pairing’

Mendelson, who died in 2019, believed in creative serendipity. He once told The Post that the first time he heard the music of Vince Guaraldi — while driving across the Golden Gate Bridge — he thought he might use it someday.

Singer-songwriter Ben Folds views Guaraldi’s music as inseparable from the classic “Peanuts” animation it accompanied.

“When you match the music with ‘Peanuts’ and the era and what it was doing and saying, then it starts to hit like Beethoven Piano Sonata time,” Folds says of Guaraldi’s sunny West Coast sound that “distilled jazz into something popular.”

Guaraldi’s “Peanuts” songs and the animated specials were “a perfect pairing,” he says, adding that the music “just gets the vibe.”

That “loomed large” when Folds was asked to write theme music for the recent streaming Peanuts special, “It’s the Small Things, Charlie Brown.”

He meditated on Guaraldi’s music rather than trying to imitate it: “I didn’t try to drop riffs. I just went with the color.”

‘Pursue their dream’

This month, “Jump Start” creator Robb Armstrong appeared on a Schulz Museum panel with other celebrated cartoonists to share personal stories about the Sparky they knew.

As he sat onstage, Armstrong appreciated that Schulz “made other budding artists either realize their dream, pursue their dream or smooth the road on their journey.”

“He was one of the most grand-hearted human beings I’ve ever encountered,” Armstrong says.

A 6-year-old Armstrong was inspired by “Peanuts” in the summer of 1968, when Schulz integrated the strip by introducing a Black character: Franklin.

Armstrong’s reaction: “I’m in this strip.”

(About a quarter-century later, Schulz gave Franklin the last name of “Armstrong” in a salute to his friend and syndicated colleague, an honor the “Jump Start” creator calls “otherworldly.”)

Barbara Brandon-Croft, the trailblazing creator of the comic “Where I’m Coming From,” also responded strongly in 1968.

“I was excited to see a Black character in ‘Peanuts.’ Even if Franklin’s presence was only that — a Black kid amongst the group — it absolutely made a difference,” she says."

“When you grow up as an ‘other,’ which is what this country laid out for us, when you see yourself represented, it gives you a sense of belonging.”

‘The cool astronaut’

Schulz, a World War II Army veteran, was long fascinated with aviation.

NASA and “Peanuts” have a long relationship that includes the Silver Snoopy Award, which is bestowed upon outstanding NASA contractors and employees.

In 1969, Schulz appeared in public alongside the Apollo 10 astronauts who rode in the module called “Charlie Brown.”

That was also the year that a future astronaut was inspired by Snoopy and space.

“In 1969, the Mets won the World Series, [astronauts] landed on the moon and I went to see ‘A Boy Named Charlie Brown,’ the new animated feature, at Radio City Music Hall, says Mike Massimino, an engineering professor and space adviser.

“It all happened within a few months of each other, and it kind of set up the passions for the rest of my life.”

That year, Massimino received a stuffed Snoopy astronaut toy as a gift.

In 2009, on his second NASA space mission, Massimino took that same Snoopy toy into space, a symbol of his lasting attachment to “Peanuts.”

Noting that his attempts to become an astronaut failed three times before he was accepted, Massimino says he admires Charlie Brown’s spirit of optimistic resilience.

“Charlie Brown is the friend and person I wanted to be, and Snoopy is the cool astronaut I wanted to be,” Massimino says.

Adds the astronaut, “I think it’s the greatest comic strip and characters ever created.”

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Hair

There was one question everyone always asked Keshet. Well, there were several, actually, but among the less offensive of them, he heard this one the most: how does your hair stay like that?

It was one of Alisaie's favorite things to pester him about, and had become something of a running joke among those who knew him well -- particularly because he never offered a straight answer.

The typical auri styles were more dramatic than most anything he'd seen since coming to Eorzea, all fluffy spikes and gravity defying locks. So he indulged their questions, his answers becoming increasingly absurd with each passing iteration.

"How does it stay up so well?" Alisaie asked as they picked their way through the desert brush.

"Luck," he answered flippantly, and she snorted but knew she wouldn't get a different answer even if she pressed. Not today, at least.

The next time she asked, they were fording a river in a downpour. She eyed him critically, noting that his hair seemed to resist even the weight of the water that gathered on it. "Is it magic? Is that why your hair stays so fluffy?"

"Yup," he agreed easily. "I pay a moogle to sit invisibly on my shoulders and hold it up for me with their sneaky magicks."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and they trudged on.

The next time, it was Lyse who asked. "How does it stand so well like that?"

"I sold my soul to the void, and in exchange they opened a dozen void gates on my head. It's really void-hair."

She blinked at him, weighing his straight expression and flat tone for a moment before he grinned and freed her from her uncertainty. But for a moment, she had wondered.

Later, even Urianger got in on the joke. "I prithee, wouldst thou deign to reveal the secret of thy coiffure?"

"It's auri tradition to submit to a test of courage as a rite of passage when we come of age, and I was so frightened during mine that my hair just stood up straight and never laid back down," he answered blithely.

"Ah, but of course. I ought to have divined such a reasoning on mine own," Urianger noted, and they shared a quiet laugh.

They tried sometimes to trip him up, asking when he'd just awoken or when he returned victorious from battle, but his answers, though ever changing, never strayed close to anything resembling the truth. Static. Divine intervention. Reserved gravity on his scalp only. He couldn't rightly share ancient auri secrets, now could he?

And as for the truth? If you were meant to know, you wouldn’t have to ask.

-

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