#i blame him for this even coming to mind at ALL

[yanderenightmare]

Ryomen Sukuna

TW: NSFW, noncon, virgin reader, Sukuna in general

fem reader

Thinking about Demon King Sukuna and how he receives a virgin for his harem every new moon. Most are unfortunate townspeople who’ve come of age—but you’re something he can savor even more, something truly special.

The silk kimono you’d been dressed in is easily ripped from your body, leaving you bare. You’d been warned not to fight or run, that he’d only sooner kill and eat you—but you keep your faith and try and escape anyway. 

All your life, the temple has taught you of Ryomen Sukuna—that he’s a harbinger of carnage and death. You’d feel better offering your life to the Gods than allowing it to remain captive by the likes of evil.

He only grabs and manhandles you with nothing more but a sadistic laugh, catching your hair in a fist as he pulls you up until only the tips of your toes are left grazing the floors—and even then, he has to bow nearly half his length before he’s leveling your eyes with his.

“My patience is a fickle thing, turtledove. Run again, and I’ll treat it like a real hunt. Which would be a real shame… I so hate spilling holy blood before I’ve made it filthy with sin.”

You're thrown onto a large round bed next. It catches you with a bounce while he crawls after you, taking hold of both your ankles and swiftly pulling you beneath him. 

His chest is marked with demonic seals, and so is his face, where he looms above you with a deranged smile. Raking his claws up your legs and thighs, he spreads and pushes them flat against the bed while his other two hold your crying face, cupping your cheeks with both thumbs hooking into the wet of your mouth, playing with your tongue as you sob. When he shows you his and its black markings, you scream, feeling as though he’s pouring poison down your throat as he feeds you its length and knots it with yours.

You choke and sob while you share each other’s spit, feeling tarnished and forsaken by all that you held sacred—wondering why the heavens would allow this to happen as the weight of his manhood finds rest between your thighs, upon your mound and tummy, where it grows fat and warm.

His hands leave your face and switch places with the other two, freeing them for what he plans on doing next. Wrapping one around himself, he gives it languid tugs while soaking in the sight of your poor little cunt trembling in fear of something it only barely knows what is. His other hand pets it soothingly in mockery, tickling the slit, making you shake.

His stomach then splits open like a cut, baring teeth and a tongue that only earns your horrified expression—crying as it drools over you, jutting out to lick the tender place you so wished had remained untouched. You whine in shudders as he squeezes your throat and bares down over you, staring at you with keen bromine eyes, amused with your fall from grace as you come undone.

“You taste sweet,” he moans against your lips while his other mouth slurps at your core, also groaning.

You’re naïve for thinking it’s over where you blink away tears, but he doesn’t blame you. They never teach you the truth in temples, only childish lies that leave you ever vulnerable to the outside world and ever sweeter for him to ruin.

“I apologize for clipping your wings, angel. But I must say… depravity suits you better.”

Nothing. Not a prayer or plea leaves your lips as he tears through and fills you up. Only a choked gasp that dies midway. You bite into your lip, squeezing your eyes shut—ready to accept a death that never comes. Instead, there’s a living hell, and you can only scream as it consumes you.

Your whimpering is delicious, caught beneath him, panting every time his hips snap forth and storm your clingy insides, gushing for him like he knew you would be—sweetly surrendering all your worship to him and honoring him as your new god.

Perhaps he won’t feast on your flesh once he’s done as cute as you are. He wouldn’t mind keeping you around for a bit. Teach you how to serve him properly. Paint you with his seals. Make you his favorite pet.

[fizzie-frog]

You know, the Stolitz scene was a trainwreck as a whole (they usually are), but what honestly got me most was the way Blitz started pleading when he thought his livelihood was going to be taken away.

THIS IS NOT A STOLAS SLANDER POST. I'm coming from a place where I've seen Blitz being mostly, if not entirely blamed for their lack of communication most of the time.

Moving on...

People keep going like "Well if imps are so low in the hierarchy..." - Let's take a break to think. Blitz isn't rich, he's just getting by really. And how is he getting by?

By prostituting himself. To the upper class.

That's what it is, he's a certified whxre. Things may have evolved in the meantime, but that's how it started. Blitz got asked for the deal while being chased by a crazy lady and him, wanting to keep his business and livelihood, said yes, obviously.

Now Stolas was suddenly taking the book back with no apparent explanation (until they got to the crystal), so of course Blitz thought he was doomed. On a side note, why couldn't Stolas say "You won't need the book, I have an alternative" instead of the ominous "I'll need the book back, permanently. I have made up my mind." I would be scared out of my mind.

He teared up immediately and started pleading, you could already see what was going through his head. He won't have the means to support his business anymore, to pay his employees, to afford a home, he'll be homeless and have no means to take care of Loona. Everyone will leave him again and he will starve on the streets all alone.

He'd do anything to be able to live a life a bit better than miserable, of course he would.

And this brings me to Stolas's treatment of Blitz. I see that everything tends to fall on Blitz, and I'm not saying he has no fault (in fact I didn't even like him at the beginning of the series too much), but Stolas treated him like a peasant. Just the episode before Ozzie's he's called him his "impish little plaything" and asked for a reward for the rescue. He put out cigarettes on his horns, he ignored his "stop" most times, he addressed him in this little baby voice with babying diminutives. "Itty bitty" imp.

And I am sure Stolas is socially clueless. He was brought up alone and sheltered, taught to be a prince first and foremost.

Stolas probably saw this as playful banter, as something that is inoffensive, silly. It was only in the Ozzie's episode that he finally saw that actually, his silly play served to make Blitz feel smaller.

And of course in this scenario, Blitz would see this coming out of the nether. He reacted quite badly, but why would this prince be actually in love with him? As he said, he needed to have a minute (or several) to think about everything. They needed to talk this out, and Blitz was about to apologize when Stolas cast him out.

They were both emotionally charged. They fucked up. But I can see Blitz's side. And the power imbalance is so evident, that hierarchy that everyone keeps saying is irrelevant - in a moment's notice, he could have his life swept from underneath him. Just like he thought it happened in that split moment; it worried him so much that he cried and pleaded (and that's not in Blitz's character to do).

And then he was so scared of not being enough too, ugh, his little "I can always do better!". He's so used to everyone just seeing him as a lost cause, better to be discarded. With this amalgamation of things, no wonder he can't believe Stolas would have feelings for him.

So uh, I don't know what the conclusion to this is. Normalize getting imps some actual comfort? So far the only really privileged imp in Helluva Boss is Fizz after getting rid of Mammon. And when I say priviledged, I'm referring to wealth and upper class, not taking into account personal issues such as disability and so forth.

Anyway, this was my two cents on Stolitz. I honestly haven't thought too much on them, I'm riding on the Fizzarolli high. I'm chill over here in my Fizzmodeus bubble, but doesn't mean I have no thoughts on Stolitz.

[starryjaem]

destiny book one

DREAMING — MARK LEE

— parties were never your thing, until a mysterious guy at the party made your evening more enjoyable. you didn’t get his name, so when will you see him again? turns out, he’s a popular skateboarder.

↳ skateboarder! mark x fem reader

— she falls first, he falls harder. mentions of drinking.

featuring nct dream.

chapter one

“Are you having fun?”

Your best friend shouted at you, as music was blasting in the speakers. The room was filled with an overwhelming amount of people, which caused you to stay on the couch for most of the evening so far.

You hated parties. All you wanted to do was stay home. You only attended this party because today was your bestfriend’s birthday.

“Honestly, no.” You shook your head, showing your boredom for the party. She knew you didn’t like parties, so she didn’t mind that you were sitting on the couch while everyone else was having fun.

“Come drink with us!” A group of people, which your best friend knew, but you didn’t, called her to come over towards the kitchen.

“Will you be okay alone? I won’t take long.” She asks you, as she showed you a worried look on her face.

You took her hand in yours, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. “I’ll be fine. Go have fun.” You smiled, as she smiled at you back.

As she walked away from the couch, you decided to stay on your phone. The party will be over soon, is all you thought.

You felt like you were on your phone, forever. Your best friend wasn’t back yet, so you decided to look for her yourself. To your surprise, she wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. Shit.

Sending her a text, you hope that she responds to your text soon. You groaned, sitting on the chair that was placed in front of the table as you placed your head in your hands.

“What’s up?”

You looked up, not paying attention to who was around you at first. Looking up, you make eye contact with a guy wearing glasses.

“Oh, hey.” You awkwardly spoke, waving at the guy in front of you. The people that were at this party were close friends of your best friend, you recognized a lot of people, but didn’t talk to them much. So.. who was he?

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Sure.” You responding, not caring much at all. He tried making conversation, but you were making such a terrible first impression as you were clearly annoyed.

“You seem.. bored.” He says, intensely looking at your facial features. Your eyes remained on his, but you quickly looked away to not make it obvious that you were staring at him.

He’s hot.

“I’m not, just tired.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’m ready to go home.”

For some reason, his response caught your attention. You were no longer staring at the table, but instead, your eyes met his again.

“So, why don’t you go home?”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “Because I rather talk to you.”

Your heart immediately skipped a beat. He was joking, right? Perhaps, he’s another playboy, just like the rest of them are.

“Don’t waste your time, I’m not that interesting.”

He laughed, “You are, more than you know.”

Before you can continue the conversation, someone walks behind him, attempting to scare him. However, it didn’t work.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already. The party just started.” The other guy said to the mysterious guy in front of you. Looking up at you, he realized he interrupted the conversation.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“Not at all, I was about to get another drink.”

The other guy must’ve noticed your awkward attempt at being interested in your phone, which you weren’t.

“Hi, I’m Jeno. His roommate.”

You showed him a warm smile after telling him your name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Well, I’m leaving now, it was nice talking with you. See you later.” The guy in the glasses smiled at you, as he stood up from his seat and left with Jeno.

You waved goodbye, returning the smile to him. Suddenly, you realized that you forgot to ask for his name. You face palmed yourself, regretting not asking for his name.

A sudden buzzing came from your purse. You opened your purse, taking out your phone as you were receiving a phone call from your friend.

You answered, covering your other ear so you can try to hear her better since the music was still blasting.

“Hey, are you still sitting on the couch?”

“No, I’m in the kitchen. Where are you?”

“In the bathroom, but I’ll be in the kitchen soon. I have so much to tell you!”

You chuckled, hearing your best friend’s excitement through her voice.

— ♡ —

You woke up in your best friend’s bed, as you rolled over to grab your phone from the nightstand. Checking the time, it was almost 11AM.

Your best friend woke up, as you were slightly already making too much noise from moving around in bed.

“Good morning, I’m so exhausted.” Your best friend told you, stretching out your arms.

“I’m sure you are. You slept extremely late.”

Rolling over to your side, you faced your best friend. “So, there’s something you needed to tell me?”

“Oh yeah, sorry for falling asleep on you yesterday.”

Your best friend ended up falling asleep during the party. You told everyone to leave and you were glad that everyone listened.

“It’s okay, now tell me.”

She smiled, looking at the ceiling as she told you. “Someone asked for my phone number yesterday.”

You sat up, not expecting to hear that at all. That’s why she was taking so long, you thought. You shook her arm slightly, wanting to know more about what happened.

“Who was it?”

“I just met him yesterday. He told me his name is Jeno.”

Jeno. He’s the one you met in the kitchen yesterday.

“I was in the kitchen and he approached me while his friend was with him. We started talking and he asked for my number. He said he wants to talk to me more.”

You could see the blush on your best friend’s face.

“That’s so cute.“

“What about you? I saw how his friend was looking at you from across the room.”

You froze, suddenly remembering your interaction with him. You wanted to see him again.

“We talked.. but I forgot to ask for his name. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He’s hot.”

Your best friend laughed, “No way!”

You sighed, “I know.”

“You know, I can always ask Jeno for his name.”

Right, that was a good idea. You smiled, knowing that there’s a possible chance that you will be able to talk to him again.

Your best friend checked her phone, seeing that Jeno sent her a text an hour ago. Jeno invited her to the skatepark. He’ll be there at one.

“Jeno invited me to the skatepark, but you’re coming with me.”

“No thanks, I would rather not third wheel.”

“You won’t! Someone will be there, maybe. Hopefully, you can talk with him! And get his name this time.”

Realization came to you again, the butterflies returned to you.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Great! We’re leaving in an hour. Get dressed. Wear something cute for him.” Your best friend winked.

You took that into consideration. But, why were you so nervous? You haven’t known him for that long.

— ♡ —

You and your best friend arrived at the skatepark. In such an unfamiliar setting, you both didn’t know where to go.

Eventually, you both spotted the familiar face, which was Jeno, and approached him.

“Hey Jeno, this is my best friend, she’ll be with us today.”

Jeno smiled at you, “Hi.”

You greeted him back, waving at him. “So, where’s your friend?” Your best friend asked, as you were looking around the skatepark.

“Showing off, as usual. He’s skateboarding now.” Jeno laughed, but he was proud of his best friend for his skateboarding skills.

You looked over, seeing him do tricks on his skateboard. Amazing. His movement on the skateboard with smooth and fast, completely surprising you.

However, you both made eye contact again. Which caused him to stop his skateboard. He was walking towards you all, your heart started pounding once more.

You tried to play it off like you weren’t nervous, but you were. He has a hold on you.. and you didn’t know why.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart.”

— ♡ —

💌 author’s note — i’m so excited for this series !! to be in the taglist, comment or send me an inbox. 18+ only!

©️ starryjaem

[jennifer-jeong]

[Smut] [AFAB!Reader] Voice Message

SUMMARY He's on a work trip and you decide to record him a little gift

CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, assigned female at birth (AFAB) reader, m and f masturbation, sex toy usage, orgasm, implied relationship, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

WORD COUNT: 1278

GOJO SATORU, KAMO CHOSO, AVENTURINE, RAFAYEL, MARIUS VON HAGEN

It was a nice evening, the sun was just setting and there was a nice breeze coming through the window of your apartment that you shared with your lovely boyfriend. He was on a work trip so you were feeling a bit lonely and also a bit… needy. Yeah it had only been a week but could you really blame yourself? You were ovulating, of course you kinda needed him. So, sitting up in bed and feeling a bit cheeky, you decide to record him a little message. A video message felt like a bit too much of an endeavor so you settled on an audio message. After preparing your favorite “materials” you pressed record.

He was only a few time zones away so it wasn’t too late at night for him yet. He heard the notification come up on his phone and read it over.

Heyyyy, I’ve been missing you so I made this for you cuz I thought you might be missing me too pookieee <3 enjoy with headphones ;)

Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow and then smiled, realizing what you had probably done. He was in his hotel room for the night so he figured he’d get ready for bed and take a little listen and indulge himself.

After situating himself in bed in his pj’s (sweatpants and a white t-shirt), he replied to your text.

Hey pretty girl, miss you too <3 I’m about to give it a listen 😏

You liked the message and waited for his response, having already finished yourself.

After seeing your reaction, he put in his earbuds and turned off his light, setting his phone down on the nightstand. He pressed play, closed his eyes, and your pretty voice filled his ears.

“Hey baby” you said out of breath already. “I miss you- mmmphff” his eyes shot open and his cock twitched. Your heavy breathing and light moans sending a wave of lust through his body as he swallowed hard.

“hah ngh… miss you a lot… hah- wish you were here- mmm!” His eyes started to roll back into his head as he clenched his jaw, hands sliding down to palm his already half hard cock.

“Wish this was you inside me,” you said, followed by moans. “You always fill me up s’gooood… nothing feels the same.” He could hear your vibrator buzzing in the background of the audio, turning him on even more knowing that you were actually getting yourself off just thinking about him. He threw his head back, pushing it into the pillow thinking about how you were fucking yourself with a dildo and upset that it wasn’t his dick. He let out a light moan at the thought and touched himself through his pants, painfully hard at this point.

“Only you make me feel that good baby, I really need you,” he could hear your small “ah’s” and the occasional “mmph” between your sentences. “I’ll make you feel s’good when you’re back,” that made him roll his eyes back again, blinking slow and with lidded eyes thinking about you.

“Sorry this is all I can do for you now baby,” he started pulling down his sweats and boxers, “...the only way I can help get you off.” He groaned when he finally freed his cock out of the confines of his pants.

“Bet you’re already all hot and bothered hm?” you giggle “not that I mind.” He moaned at your slight teasing. “Thinking about it actually turns me on more- ngh,” he started to stroke himself, his tip sensitive and leaky because of you.

“Mmmmm fffucckkkk” you moaned lowly “m’ close daddy.” He let out a shaky sigh hearing the pet name, it was so fucking filthy that it was erotic to him but he still loved it and you did too.

You continued to edge yourself closer and closer to the edge in the recording and he followed suit. Your moans got more and more whiny and loud, barely able to think of more dirty talk for him because your brain was in overdrive focusing on all the stimulation. He adored this part of the recording though, just listening to you pleasure yourself, saying the occasional “feels s’good” or “yes” between needy whines.

Your already fast breathing picked up a minute or two later and he noticed it, knowing that you were already close. “P-please cum with me,” you sobbed out, “I need ittt… hgnhh.”

Your boyfriend cursed under his breath trying not to let out too much noise in the hotel room. But it was so difficult when you made him so sensitive and you weren’t even here. He sped up his hand, having it now well lubricated with a mixture of precum and saliva he spit onto his hand. The erotic wet sounds of him stroking himself paired perfectly with your recording to turn him on to the absolute max.

“I’m thinking about you,” your voice starts again, clearly shaky. “How it feels when we cum t-together mmm,” you say through labored breathing. At this point you’ve managed to bring him to the edge with you, he’s bucking his hips upwards, fucking his fist imagining it was your gummy pussy squeezing him so heavenly like you always do. His hair is starting to stick to his forehead slightly as his body continues to overheat from all the pleasure. He grabs his shirt and pulls it up to hold between his teeth preemptively, not wanting to stain his shirt and also to muffle any moans that escape.

“Fuckkk- ugh- mmm!” you cry through the phone as his body tenses, abs spasming as he fucks his fist and free hand gripping the sheets. “G-gonna… gonna cum!” you babble as you breathe heavy into the mic, each moan rising in pitch until your breath hitches, letting out loud groans as your waves crash over you. “hh- ah! c-cumming! hmmnnnnn cummingg nghhh” he hears in his ears, throwing him over the edge with you as he thinks about how your walls clench and twitch on him when you cum. How you gush arousal all over him when you finish on his cock. His own breathing has sped up at this point as he bites down on his shirt and lets out a strained “f-fuck!” and moans your name quietly. Ropes of cum cover his torso as his hips stutter upwards into his hand. His legs are shaky as he comes down from his high, riding through it with slow strokes, almost overstimulating himself since you were still coming down.

Slowly your breathing slowed and you ended the recording with a quiet “love you baby.” He took his earbuds out and blinked a few times, taking deep breaths as he lays there, enjoying his afterglow and also thinking a bit of “wow… well that just happened.” He stays in that moment a while longer before grabbing the nearby tissue box to clean himself up and run to the washroom quickly before settling back down in bed to text you a reply.

Holy fuck I’m saving that Omg did you like it I fucking loved it wow You really just made me that for free LMFAO mm hmm just for you baby Don’t worry I’ll be sure to give you a payment in another way plus the tip of course Idk if the pun makes that better or worse. ANYWAYS ilysm babyyy I’m glad you liked ittt :) I love you sososo much too pretty girl, can’t wait to see you so I can love you properly in person For now sleep well though, good night <3 Hehe MWAH I’m looking forward to it sleep well too baby, good nighttttt <3

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST ♡ ||

[delirious-donna]

Second Chances Are Not Promised [Part Nine]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: A few days have passed since you chose to run from Kento rather than face a reality where he rejected your advances. You hate to admit that you miss him, but does he feel the same way and would you ever find out even if he did?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: angst, emotionally charged argument, NSFW throughout, I don't want to spoil the story too much and I don't think there is any triggering content but the NSFW is there for a reason

Part Eight | Series Masterlist | Part Ten

The past few days had been some of your worst. Torn between annoyance at being this emotionally distraught at the actions of a stupid, coward of a man and the genuine hurt that penetrated your heart at the thought of him. Leaving had been a necessity, and although it meant some strategic couch surfing until you were finally able to return to your cozy little student apartment, it was the lesser of two evils.  

The idea of remaining in Kento’s apartment after his rejection turned your stomach. To be faced with him knowing that there was an attraction between you, that it wasn’t all some torrid fantasy in your head, and still he chose to turn away from it, would be too damaging. The beginning of tears blurred your vision whilst you thought about it, of those restless hours trapped inside the room which smelled like him resurfaced the agonies that had not yet begun to heal. 

Over and over, you chastised yourself for allowing another person to whittle you down to your very core components, and with what you considered to be clearly little compassion for the results, but the blame should not fall upon your shoulders. Nanami Kento was a man of logic and reasoning, you had come to learn this and that had ultimately been the downfall. He allowed the fear of things not working out for the best to ruin any chance of ever finding out. It was his fault, that much was true. 

Stupid man… 

It would be easier if you could hate him. If you could shield your heart with the burn of fury and hatred. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, softer memories invaded your mind to override the unpleasant ones. The Chinese takeout and Kento’s rigid posture before he succumbed to your invitation to join you. The visit to the bar and the conversation that flowed as easily as the drinks. The museum trip and the adorable couple that had given unsolicited advice in such a cute way you couldn’t be mad. The movie night… the faint dream-like memory of a kiss against your forehead and distantly murmured words that left you with a dopey smile and a fluttering in your chest. 

You still caught whiffs of his scent despite having washed all the clothing from your stay as soon as you could. The lingering smell of expensive coffee beans that you could never afford, wafts of leather and earthy notes that you couldn’t give a name to, had a way of invading your nose even in the dead of night when your body begged for sleep, but your brain refused the respite. Along with how you could perfectly recall the taste of him when his tongue swept into your mouth, it was torture—a torture of your own making. 

Another night, another failed attempt at sleeping more than in short fits and starts. None of it was restful either, dreams assailing you from the mundane to the wildly vivid. You grabbed up your phone and groaned at several messages and a missed call on the screen. Since your return, you hadn’t spoken to Karin and because she wasn’t due to return to school until the day after next, you weren’t even sure if she knew you were home. Would Kento have called her? Did he care enough to let her know you’d ran? 

Pulling the covers over your head, you sighed and dropped your phone onto the mattress. There was no desire to reply to the messages, none of which had come from Karin, which made you assume that Kento hadn’t informed her of what transpired. Your eyelids drooped low, the pull of sleep tugging at you like the dark tendrils of water trying to drag a poor victim to their lair to remain eternally. You put up no resistance, letting yourself be submerged until only darkness filled your mind. 

~ 

The noise of muted conversations, tinkling laughter that sounded far from genuine and the constant drone of air conditioning drowned out Kento’s thoughts. It was amazing to think that not long ago he longed to be here, to return to the luxury of his corner office and the accounts he knew like the back of his hand. Now, he hated it.  

There was no comfort to be found in the continuous noise of the printers, the clipped footsteps of assistants in the most uncomfortable looking high heeled shoes he had ever seen and the forced conversation he had to endure from his colleagues. In truth, Kento had no interest in playing the games he was accustomed to. Office politics no longer felt compelling or exciting.

He felt… done. Done with the routine, the faked smiles and the forced conversations. “How’s the wife and kids? Did you get up to much over the weekend? When are you going to settle down, Kento? Surely, you’ve got a different girl in your bed every night that you could choose from.” He hated it and it was your fault.

Kento had lost count of the times his phone found its way into his palm, his sister’s contact info blaring like a beacon on the screen with his thumb poised over the call button. Where were you? Were you okay? Those questions plagued him day in day out, and only his pig-headed stubbornness kept the answers from his grasp. Abruptly, he slammed his pen atop the desk. It bounced from the force of the impact and shot off the edge to roll beneath a cabinet, a reprieve from his anger.

Once more, the memory of your petal soft lips assailed him. The taste of you manifested in his mouth and he let his eyes slide shut as he slumped back in his chair. His cock throbbed behind the tight hold of his trousers, and no amount of adjusting and readjusting would alleviate the gut-wrenching ache that resided within him. He remembered how your fingers felt moving closer to the hairs at his neck and how he…

The memory couldn’t remain pleasant, though he longed for it to take a different path. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have your nails scratch against his scalp. He wanted to find out if you would tug his hair or play with it gently. What might it be like if his hold of your waist had not been so timid, if he had caressed your sides and kneaded at your hips how he really wanted to. Would you have let him lead you to his bed to tumble amongst the sheets? Would you cry out his name when he tasted you for the first time? Kento was panting like a dog cruelly trapped in a car on a summer day.

A knock on the glass wall of his office shook him from his twisted fantasies. He jolted upright to see the nefarious grin of a rival colleague who clearly assumed he was napping on the job, not aware of how close Kento had been to taking his dick out behind the cover of his desk and fisting himself furiously to endure a painful orgasm that would not sate the yearning he was at the mercy of. Instead, he scowled at the man with hot, seething hatred written across his face. The man paled and quickly walked away.

“That’s right. Run back to your office. Email your little cohorts and begin my assassination,” he hissed, fury bubbling under his skin and making him want to scratch at his arms until they bled.

The door slammed behind him as he made for the exit, head bowed over his phone until he raised it to his ear whilst taking the stairs two at a time to reach the parking lot. Each shrill ring cut his nerves to the quick until at last, she answered, and he could finally breathe again.

“Karin? Don’t talk just listen…”

~

A knock sounded at your front door, quiet and innocuous, it wasn’t enough for you to warrant moving from the couch. Your movie was more important even though you weren’t paying it the slightest bit of attention either. A moment passed in which you assumed your visitor, whoever they were, had gone away, but no. Once more a knock sounded, and this time it was firmer. The person’s knuckles rapping loudly against the cheap wood veneer.

Annoyed, you grabbed up the remote control and increased the volume in what you hoped was an obvious sign that you didn’t wish to be disturbed. There were only a few people it possibly could be and none of them needed to see you in your current state of moping.

However, the knocking continued and this time it was positively furious. The entire frame of the door vibrated from the pounding fist hammering against it. Now you were curious, or perhaps it was fear that had you turning to glance at the door which shook with yet another blow.

Maybe it was the landlord or the police, but wouldn’t they have called out to announce themselves? Fuck, what if it was someone hurt or in need of help and you were wilfully ignoring them. The Good Samaritan in you would be silenced for only so long. It only took a few hurried steps to reach the trembling wood, your hands reaching out to brace against the wall so you could glance through the peephole, and what you saw made the air in your lungs seize completely.

Kento.

It was Kento pounding on your door and looking as determined as you had ever seen him. On the other side of the door, he too froze in place, and you clapped a hand over your traitorous mouth. He had heard your gasp of alarm. Your heart physically ached from how violently it thrashed inside your chest, knees wobbly from working to keep you on your feet.

“I know you’re in there, I heard you gasp. Can you let me in? I’d like to… talk. Please?”

Hot tears trickled down your cheeks and you angrily swiped them away. The sound of your name from his lips, so soft and tentative, only worsened the angry twist of your heart and stomach. You weren’t sure how long passed, but clearly, it was enough to have him call out again, a resigned sigh evident in his intonation.

“I’d really rather have this conversation more privately,” he muttered, stepping as close to the door as he could. “If… shit… if you’re worried about being alone with—”

Kento jumped back as the door swung wide open, his alarm at the suddenness made him blink and when he found composure… there you were. The corners of his lips twitched with the desire to beam at you. His shoulders lost a little of the tension he had been carrying all this time, and he let out an exhale that lightened his load just the tiniest bit. Your expression was one of fury but even that couldn’t dissuade the hit of dopamine that coursed through his blood at seeing you after these days apart.

“Get in here,” you yelled, stepping aside to allow him access to your apartment before slamming the door shut with a rattling echo shaking the whole room. “You think I’m afraid? Seems like you’re still an idiot.”

You might harbour the desire to wring this man’s neck, but not once had you ever felt afraid of him, not for a single second. Not even when he had burst in on you in his bath, naked and vulnerable. The mortification on his face had dissolved any concern for your safety in an instant. Wow. That moment felt so long ago now, but in reality, not that much time had passed.

Kento shrugged, unknowing what else to do and at last you took him in.

So, this was him suited and booted. He looked good, annoyingly handsome, and you could kick yourself for thinking that. This was the outer shell of the man you had met on that first fateful day; his shirt was crisply pressed and a surprising navy blue with neat tan trousers showing sharp creases down the legs, his expensive timepiece adorned his wrist and the brown polished Oxfords on his feet managed to shine in the dinghy low light of your living room. There was no jacket in sight, though you knew instinctively that one should reside over the width of his broad shoulders, and then you noticed it. A garish yellow splattered tie decorated the length of his sternum. It should have thrown his entire image, but somehow it didn’t.

Your nose wrinkled at the strange tie, head canting to the side and if you didn’t know any better, you might have said that this was the real Kento shining through the gloom of the mundane. There, at the heart of him, resided a man who didn’t want to fully abide by the standards laid out for all to adhere to. A small spark of a rebellious spirit weathered by cupped hands against the cruel winds of corporate culture. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t certain sobs were more likely to emerge than laughter.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?”

It was your turn to shrug, already knowing the only possible answer. “Karin,” you answered bluntly. “I thought you were the one that disliked pointless questions.”

He winced at your cool tone, eyes falling from your less than impressed expression to bore holes through the floor. He deserved your ire—your anger and vexations—what he couldn’t stand was your indifference. The impact hit far harder, ice settling over his heart when he hesitantly gazed at the woman, he so ruthlessly scorned.

To Kento, you seemed tired. Dark circles underlined your dull eyes, not a single sparkle, of which he knew resided within them, remained. This was his doing… Despite that being the case, he felt the brush of butterfly wings in his stomach, soft and heartfelt. You were beautiful. So beautiful, and he knew this would be the last chance he’d ever get to make this right. To prove that he knew of the mistakes he had made and promise never to be so stupid ever again.

“I came to apologise,” he offered, slowly stepping closer only to see you take the same step back, much to dismay.

“I don’t accept. You can leave now.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and you followed the bounce of the front strands that refused to return to their original position. He was ruffled and hating every second of it. You were glad of his discomfort, at least he now felt an ounce of what you did.

Kento sighed. “I won’t stay if you really wish me to leave, but I’d prefer if you’d hear me out at least.”

“What could you possibly have to say? You rejected me, Kento. You fucking kissed me then shoved me away. There is nothing more to add.” You shot your reply like the bullets of a machine gun, fast and deadly.

“I was trying to protect—”

You interjected before he could finish, pacing back and forth like a caged predator who belonged in the wild, not on display like this. “Don’t you dare say it was to protect me. Don’t you dare assume that you know what is best for me! I make my own decisions in life, and no man is going to step in and change that.”

He raised his hands in surrender, eyes fixed into the depths of the floor and the passage of your feet.

“Protect us both… maybe more so me than you. I-I hate myself for only considered the implications that affected me,” he admitted quietly, shame burning in his gut. “We’re so different but also alike. I can see myself in you at that age and remember the dreams I had, and how they all revolved around success and money. I was driven just like you are, but you’re better than me. So much better and I don’t think you even realise it.”

Your pacing slowed as you listened, the pounding in your ears still very much present but growing quiet so you could hear the words being said and the unspoken ones too—for there were many.

“I admire your strength and determination, how you refuse to let anything, or anyone stand in the way of your happiness. You don’t let expectations change who you are. You were right when you called me jaded, because I am—or I was. Happiness was never a primary focus and it’s only now that I’m understanding what a fundamental mistake that was.”

“You sound like the male lead in those lovey-dovey romcoms you hate so much.”

His face split wide with his first smile in days. You watched in alarm when he bent over to clutch his stomach, until laughter poured from him, and the unabashed honesty of the noise made you glance away before you too were caught up in it. You weren’t ready to show him that side of you again.

“I guess I do, and I told you that I don’t hate them all.” He paused to slowly raise his arm, fingertips daring to brush against the back of your arm and when you didn’t pull away, down to your knuckles. “I’ve missed you.”

The shield around your heart was straining against the emotional onslaught. He sounded so genuine, and you reminded yourself that not once had he said anything that he didn’t mean, even when those things hurt. You took your hand back and hugged your arms around your middle.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” You asked, pointedly ignoring his last remark and how badly you wanted to reiterate it back to him. “You’re certainly dressed for the office, except for that tie. Not sure if I love or loathe it.”

“I should be at work, but I walked out.” Kento shrugged as if that was the most obvious and rational thing he could say. “As for the tie…” He smiled down fondly, picking up the yellow material and letting it fall back against his chest. “I’ve always liked it. Makes me stand out against the other suits in the room.”

You couldn’t deny that.

Uncertain how else to further the conversation, or if you should try at all, you shuffled your feet against the floor before finally resigning to the wants of your heart. “You want a coffee?”

“Does that mean you’re not kicking me out?”

“It means… do you want a coffee?”

“I’d love a coffee.”

He followed you into the small kitchen, eyes taking in his surroundings for the first time and what he saw was a modest student apartment, much like the one he had lived in, but you had imprinted all over it. There were pieces of art hanging on the walls, leafy green plants on nearly every windowsill, cushions and blankets draped haphazardly over the cheap looking couch and little photos and mementos stuck to the fridge door and some cupboards.

Your face stood out in the ones that caught his eye, bright smiles that radiated joy and he even spied Karin in a few. The two of you were almost worlds apart but clearly cared for one another. He hoped that his intrusion into your life wouldn’t spoil that friendship. Although he was getting ahead of himself. One cup of coffee did not mean you were willing to give him another chance, and he hadn’t even asked yet.

“I’ve only got instant, didn’t know I’d be visited by a coffee connoisseur today,” you grumbled whilst finding two mismatched mugs.

He had to fight not wrinkle his nose and it did not go unnoticed, your eyebrow rising in a challenge to either put up or shut up. Wisely, he chose the latter, only shrugging in acceptance and gratefully taking the steaming mug when offered.

“You know, I’ve made your morning coffee every day since you left. It didn’t feel right only pouring one cup.”

What was this man doing to you? He was killing you with these heartfelt admissions in such quick succession, that’s what he was doing to you. The urge to cry tightened your throat, because for all your seething over what had happened, you had missed him. It was his voice you heard in the dead of night, his scent that tormented you when you least expected it, and his hazel eyes with warm caramel flecks that crinkled happily when you were lost in thought.

“Mm.” You didn’t know what else you could say, and you weren’t ready to admit that you felt the same way. Leaning back against the kitchen counter, you took a small sip of the cheap instant coffee and masked your grimace behind the rim of the mug before setting it down.

Kento took the few steps to put himself directly in front of you and you were frozen, staring right ahead into the centre of his chest. You didn’t dare to lift your gaze from the ridiculous yellow splattered tie, you couldn’t. He was so close that you could feel the heat from his body, it radiated outwards and teased at you like wandering tendrils. Your heart was thundering, so much so that you missed his arm moving as you worked to control yourself. His fingers gently lodged beneath your chin, slowly bringing your face upwards to meet his eyes, and it was a mistake.

Those intelligent eyes were sorrowful, and it thickened the lump lodged in your throat. It felt like time was suspended whilst he grazed his fingertips along your jaw and over your cheek until he was cupping your face so gently that you nearly wept on the spot. You let him explore the soft apple of your cheek, allowed him to run his thumb beneath your eye and felt the moisture of tears you weren’t aware you had shed stain the swirling thumbprint. He was so close and yet not close enough.

Caught between the urge to shove him away and drag him close, instead, you did nothing. You refused to put yourself in another vulnerable situation with him, if he wanted something then he would lead the charge and take what he sought. You wouldn’t be made a fool of again. You wouldn’t—

His lips found yours—tentative and slow. Lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed when he leant in to close that final gap. Your gasp was swallowed whole, washed away by the sweetest kisses that were nothing like the one you shared in his apartment. Angry passion fuelled that kiss, but not this one. It was a kiss reserved for deeper emotions, dare you say, the first budding blooms of love. There was an apology at its roots, and you accepted with your reciprocation.

It was like coming home, nothing else felt like this, and before you knew it, your arms were around his neck. This time, when you moved to delve your fingers through his lush head of hair, he didn’t stop you. Kento groaned against your mouth at the sensation, your nails gently scratching along his scalp in answer to a question he had long wanted to ask. You melted against his body; chest tightly pressed to his whilst you sobbed through a moment of clarity.

You were the one to pull back this time, a hand leveraged against his shoulder, but it was different to when he stopped you. Your finger sunk into the stiff material of his shirt, your way of not letting him escape, because this wasn’t over. “Kento… I need to know.”

“I want you. I have wanted you for longer than I realised. I hate that I hurt you to understand any of that. It will never happen again. I’m sorry… I will repeat that as many times as you need to hear it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.”

The words poured from him like a fountain. It was the most candidly you had heard him speak, and the gravity of that wasn’t lost on you. Kento was opening the door for you. He was welcoming you into his inner sanctum and hiding nothing from you. There were no veils in place to hide shadowy recesses, only pure light that defeated every phantom doubt there could possibly be. It made you smile, watery from unshed tears but you didn’t cry, you laughed.

Kento was a statue as he waited for your answer, for something to tell him if he had won his second and final chance. He was too scared to move, every muscle locked into place and when you laughed, he knew. Those beautiful eyes turned up to him with fresh tears sparkling but happy. The sparkle was back, and he could drown in their depths if you’d only let him. He let out the breath he’d been holding, and his head bowed forward until his forehead rested against the gentle slope of your shoulder. The sound of laughter seemed to turn up the colours in his world, everything seemed far brighter, and he crushed you to him.

“Words are pretty and all, but if you really want me like you claim…” you mused whilst your arms weaved beneath his so your hands could trail the length of his spine with deliberate slowness. “… show me.”

He huffed a laugh whilst your unique scent tickled his nose. You were always challenging him, whether in small inconspicuous ways or in monumental ways that forced him to look inwardly and reassess his priorities. This was nothing new, and for the first time, he wanted nothing more than to rise to this particular challenge.

“With pleasure.” Kento turned his head, planting a series of wet kisses to your neck and savouring the stutter of your breathing. Your fingers stilled from where they were teasing near the space occupied by his belt, and he seized the chance to let his lips curl away from teeth. He licked a strip over your frantic pulse before sinking his teeth into you.

Your body shuddered, held up only by the support of the counter and Kento’s grip on you. The pain was short-lived as it gave way to pleasure, careful lips kissed away the lingering hurt and you were fast developing a second heartbeat between your legs. He was acting on instinct, that was the only explanation, and you wondered how far those instincts would take him. You wanted him to drive this, to do as requested and show you how much he wanted you, but that didn’t mean you were going to be some shrinking violet. Pulling him into a bruising kiss, you smiled into the depths of his mouth at the answering grunt from his chest.

~

A trail of clothes led from the kitchen to your bedroom, the door kicked shut by a polished shoe right before it was yanked off and left in a heap with socks and trousers. Your nimble fingers worked free the buttons of his shirt, loosened his tie enough to tug it over head just as he stripped you out of the sweatshirt that hung far too loosely on your body. Instead of discarding the yellow tie, you looped it over your head and let it hang between your breasts. Framed by lace and sensitive skin that was singing from his hurried touch, you silently thanked all that would listen for the decision to wear a bra at all, let alone the expensive one that was usually reserved for intimate encounters. How serendipitous of you…

Kento stopped in his tracks, completely overcome with the sight of you. Perfect skin yet unmarked by his touch, soft curves and his tie around your throat. This was better than any wet dream, far more hedonistic than the lewd thoughts that crept into his brain when he fisted himself in the lonely hours of the night. This was reality, and what could be better than that?

“You’re so beautiful. You’ve no idea how many times I wondered what this might be like… and nothing compares to this,” he enthused, taking your hand and leading it to the obvious bulge tenting his underwear.

He groaned when you curled your fingers around his erection through the fabric, hips bucking forward involuntarily. Grinning like the cat who got the cream, you moved higher to hook those same fingers into the waistband and tugged him close so you could feel his cock twitch against you.

Tumbling onto messy sheets followed easily, amidst breathless kisses and explorative hands. Everything was new and exciting, there seemed to be no inch of your exposed skin left untouched and that only left what was still covered. Kento’s breath fanned hot and heavy over the lace of bra, enough to tighten your nipples. Your spine arched from the bed when he licked over the cup and wet you with his saliva, his hand slipping to the small of your back to keep you there so that when his teeth nipped at you, you could only squirm.

He repeated the action on the other side, leaving you panting and desperate for friction. The palm at your spine wandered to the clasp of your bra and he paused, offering you eyes full of sincerity. “May I?”

Your heart seized in your chest. Where had you found this man? You’d never know a man to get you into bed and down to your underwear and still ask for permission to proceed. Any lingering thought that this might be a one off to scratch the itch that had buried deep beneath your skin disintegrated in an instant. There wasn’t a future you envisaged where you would give him up, not without a fight.

Cupping his face in both hands, you kissed him and whispered. “Touch me like nobody else does.”

A wet path trailed from your clavicle to right below your belly button, little bruises blooming in places and the indentation of fingertips in others. Kento looked like a God from his position between your thighs, his chin shiny from the arousal he coaxed from you using his surprisingly silver tongue. Blond tousled hair and ruddy cheeks, swollen lips and brown irises almost completely swallowed by midnight pupils. Sweat dripped from your temples whilst you floated back down to Earth, your fingers tangled in his hair once more and you felt him lean into the touch before crawling over you.

“Sweeter than honey…”

Your skin flushed hotter—not a feat you thought possible—at his words, followed by the taste of yourself on his tender lips. His tongue pushed deeper and deposited the tantalising tang directly onto your tastebuds. Your body cradled him; legs wound tight around his hips to indulge in his guttural groans when his cock moved through your swollen folds.

Precum and the mess he’d made of you hastened his movements, hips rutting downwards whilst he captured your hands and entwined your fingers at either side of your head. The velvet glide of his cock through your sex stole the air from your lungs, the tip teasingly torturing your already abused clit. His jaw was set in firm determination, and you huffed at the expression. There was no way this was ending without him fucking you, whether he realised or not.

“Kento… please.”

His eyes flew skyward, barely held restraint fraying with each subsequent mewl of want. He squeezed your fingers when you rocked your hips and shifted the position in an attempt to nudge him towards your entrance. Hearing you speak his name would always be his undoing, it had been like that since the very first time you addressed him as Kento. It had never sounded better than from your lips, and he shuddered at the inflection, at the desire written openly across your features. You didn’t hide from him, didn’t obscure your true feelings behind a mask. He wanted to return that, and whilst he might be new to be using so open, there was no better time to start.

“I’m scared,” he admitted.

You paused, blinking your eyes open to watch him above you. “Of what?”

“That… that if I cross this final line, I’ll never let you go. You deserve everything, and what if I can’t give you that?”

“Keep me forever, Kento. You don’t need to cross this line for me to know that I want to be by your side whilst you figure your life from here out. I want to be a part of it. Let me look after your heart and you’ll have given me everything I could ever ask for.”

He loved you. He knew it in the very centre of his soul, but there would be time for that declaration. Right now, wasn’t the time. “Now who sounds like they’re in a lovey-dovey romcom?” He teased, nudging your nose with his whilst his heart felt lighter than it had in forever.

You bit at his bottom lip, feigning a growl of annoyance whilst your eyes narrowed on him and the brilliant smile he gave you. Without warning, he moved and all at once he was exactly where he needed to be. Inch by slow inch, he eased into your body. You swore through the exquisite stretch, only silenced by his mouth which descended upon you hungrily.

It had been a while since you last had someone in bed with you, and despite being worked open by skilful fingers and tongue, it was still a snug fit. When he bottomed out, the coarse golden hairs at his pelvis rubbed at you with that delicious friction and stimulation, and you sighed in contentment. The fullness was welcome, and he fit you like a glove, like he was meant to have found his home here by now.

“O-okay?” He asked with a shake in his voice, and you nodded enthusiastically. The pace he set was slow, bone deep and so heartfelt that it seemed like your body merged with his. Kento spread your thighs further apart with his knees. He made every thrust count, hips angled to massage the sweet spot he’d discovered earlier.

You were clenched around him so hard that he swore he’d cum in record time, in fact, he was still astonished not to have spilled in his shorts when your first orgasm had wet his face. It was a moment he was likely to never forget and would be subject to many a dirty thought in years to come. He continued to be amazed at how expressive you were, and seemingly that didn’t end in the bedroom. It was refreshing. No one was like you, but that was okay because he had found you and even though he messed up, you were better than he ever could be. So sweet and joyful. You accepted him, flaws and all, and only offered him a helping hand.

Kento was lost in the sensation of being joined with you. His heart beat in time with yours, chests flush together whilst he took you higher and higher to completion. The orgasm approaching felt different to any before, it spread throughout his body like warm honey, and he glanced down at you in panic that he would find his end before you did.

“Fuck… there. Right there! Don’t stop… oh god, I’m gonna—Ken!”

His stomach dropped into his toes, the strength in his arms near failing him when you broke apart to milk him with sweet sucking pulls that he had never experienced before. The incessant pulsing was too much to deny, and he pulled out with a fierce growl that forced your eyes to snap wide. Kento sat back on his haunches, hand ready to wrap around his aching dick to pump the final few times and spill his seed, but he hadn’t counted on you leaning up on an elbow to reach him first. Your hot touch jolted electricity down his spine and the wet glide of his foreskin had barely reached down to the base before he was shooting his load across your quivering belly and thighs.

He moaned unabashedly and the sound thrilled you right down to your already overstimulated core. Both your eyes and his fixed on the sticky pool he was creating on your skin. His cheeks turned a burning red at the continuing spurts of cum that seemed to never want to end, until at last he was drained completely.

A moment of silence fell, only disturbed by your combined heavy breathing. Kento couldn’t find it in him to look you in the eye, a sense of embarrassment settling on his shoulders at the sheer mess he’d made. Clearly, he didn’t understand that you adored the painting he’d created. He was the paint, and you were the canvas. You scooped your finger through the creamy paint, tracing designs with his essence.

“I… I don’t know what to say now,” he said softly.

Your head canted, humming quietly whilst beckoning him to you with two grabby hands and not relenting until he flopped beside you. His face buried into the crook of your neck, forcing you to dig it out with laughter bubbling in your throat. Suddenly he was shy… adorable.

“Why say anything at all? We have all the time in the world for words. Let’s just enjoy the moment.”

He kissed your bare shoulder, reaching over you to his discarded shirt and using that to clean your stomach so he could cuddle you into his arms comfortably. You were right, there wasn’t much needed to be said right now, except he did have one question… “Did I show you?”

Throwing a leg over his hips and nuzzling his nose with yours, you smiled and gave a nod. “More than I expected. Although… next time, finish inside.”

Kento nearly choked on his saliva which only made you laugh more. His neck and ears burned white-hot, and you pretended not to notice whilst he looked everywhere but at you. “I’ll—uh—I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Mm, good because we have a lot of time to make up for and I intend to keep you in this bed until your legs give out.”

“You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” he teased with a bark of laughter.

“Yep. So, I suggest you get used to it, love.”

[dear--mars]

Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?

── Synopsis: Soulmates. The concept sounded unreal, too good to be true. And it seemed it was. Nothing lasts forever and the thought of being together even in another world was just a dream.

── Characters: Blade, Aventurine, and Veritas

── CW: can't find anything. (please let me know if I missed any.)

── Notes: kinda occ ngl... [angst/no comfort]

── Word count: 591 + 891 + 867 = 2349 words in total

Blade ── Blade was a wandering soul. Both of you knew that and yet you still tried to tie him down. But could you really be blamed?

How could you think he wanted anything else when all he did was send mixed signals? One moment he’s cold and distant then he’s all over you, being needy and needing your comfort. So was it any surprise when you eventually got tired of his on-and-off behavior?

So you left. 

You started a new life on the small planet of Adion. You worked a job you actually liked, made new relationships, and never stressed too much about things that didn’t matter. It was the turning of a new leaf.

But with joy come sorrow and suffering.

A loud banging at your door echoed throughout your house. You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to fall back asleep, but the noise breaks the peaceful sleep you’re so desperately clinging to. 

You sat up, rubbing your eyes before taking a look at the clock for a few moments, it’s two in the morning. You had no idea what was going on but you had a familiar sense of deja vu that you couldn’t shake. 

"Damn it… Who the hell is that?" You mumbled to yourself before getting out of bed to walk to the front door. But once you saw who was at your door, every hint of fatigue fled your body as your blood ran cold. 

It was Blade.

You slightly faltered as your mind ran a hundred miles per hour trying to think of how he found you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step back, not wanting to be in his vicinity.

Wordlessly, Blade reached out and stopped you. In the past, you would’ve said that Blade was one of the hardest men to read but as of right now, you could tell every thought that ran through his head.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you haven’t seen each other for a few months. The slight tug on his eyebrows that showed frustration, the dark circles under his eyes told you that he hadn’t slept for a while, and lastly the desperation and relief hidden in his eyes.

“Why?” was the only thing he croaked out.

You immediately understood what he was asking and a flash of irritation crossed your face. “Are you serious? Why? Why did I leave?” You asked, finishing his question. When you saw him nod, you scoffed.

You pulled your hand away from his but it chased after your warmth instinctively. “Why wouldn’t I leave? What have you done for me to make me want to stay?” You spat out harshly.

Blade flinched and gritted his teeth. He reached out to grab your hand again, this time intertwining his fingers with yours. “Maybe not in this lifetime but do you think we’re soulmates in every other universe?” He mumbled out, clearly in a vulnerable state.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not anymore. You cared way too much in the past, it was time to move on from this chapter in your life. Time to move on from Blade. “Do you leave me in every universe?” Your tone was bitter.

Even more so than him. Only then did Blade truly realize just how much power you had over him. You could make him the happiest he had ever been, more than he thought he could be but you could also drag him into the deepest depths of pain and agony.

Aventurine ── Aventurine. What a man.

At times you couldn’t believe he was yours. Waking up next to him and seeing his smile made you fall in love with him all over again. But you should’ve suspected something was up with a man so perfect and flawless.

You should have anticipated this turn of events. The plot twist was so overused that the only appropriate response you could get out was laughter. Lovers betraying each other—how cliché. 

How could someone be so blind just because of love? You couldn't fathom it. You hated this trope and Aventurine knew that. Maybe that’s why he was smiling ever so slyly when he revealed his true intentions. 

After telling you the truth, Aventurine left your home cold and empty, taking any semblance of warmth with him. Years passed and you were forced to move on. Did you still love him deep down? Of course, but time moved forward whether you were ready or not.

Aventurine was born lucky. Being blessed by Gaiathra Triclops from birth, Aventurine grew up always having luck at his side. A fact that he hated but one that he relied on often. 

That’s why he thought no matter what, he’d always win. But Aventurine hadn’t known that his ‘luck’ only really constituted physical ideas and plans, not emotions. Especially his or yours, not after everything he did to you.

Aventurine felt a void in his chest like something was missing. You, Obviously but he would never admit that. As “carefree” Aventurine is, he still has his pride. He used you even if it was for work, catching feelings wasn’t an option.

But it never hurt to see how you were doing, right?

That’s the excuse Aventurine used as he sat in your hotel room. He never would’ve thought you’d be here in Penacony but it worked out in his favor. (Everything always did.)

Aventurine hears the door creak open and footsteps but they stop as soon as you laid eyes on him. Your eyes widened, you could recognize that tuff of blond hair just about anywhere in the universe.

Your breathing gets a bit heavier as your hands curl into fists. Aventurine doesn’t need to turn around to see you’re upset but he does anyway. He wants to see your beautiful face after all. 

God, you were extraordinary. Even after years of being apart, you still looked the same. If anything, you grew to be more attractive. Your soft skin, your plump lips, and your luscious hair that shined even under artificial lighting.

“Hey. It’s been a while, huh?” He asked, hiding his true feelings and masking them with a facade of confidence and nonchalance. “Never expected you to come to Penacony of all places.”

Your heart ached when Aventurine spoke to you with an air of familiarity. You hated how he acted like nothing happened between the you two. You ignored his words, cutting straight to the point. “What are you doing here.” You asked but it was more of a demand.

Aventurine raised his hands in mock surrender. “What’s with the hostility? I just came here to say hi and catch up.”

“Get out.” Your tone was bitter.

“Come on-” You cut him off,

“No. Get out of my room. Or wait, should I beg you to stay like last time so you’ll definitely leave?” You mocked, in slight disbelief of Aventurine’s audacity.

Aventurine ever so slightly faltered at your tone and words. “Okay, ouch.” He joked but deep down your actions hurt. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” But when Aventurine saw the glare in your eyes, he decided to drop the facade.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he did when he was feeling guilty or bad. “Do you remember our first anniversary? When we were having that picnic under that giant weeping willow?” He reminisced with a strained smile.

“You asked back then if we’d be soulmates in every universe and I said yes, knowing that I’d have to betray you. I feel like it’s my turn.” Aventurine paused and took a deep breath. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?”

You didn’t hesitate in cutting down any and all expectations, Aventurine held. “Why would you think that when you ruined it for us in this one?” You counted with a question of your own.

Aventurine froze before smiling, trying to mask the pain in his expression. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you to say something so cruel but I understand,” Aventurine said with a smile, trying to act playful and nonchalant. 

He then left your room without any more complaints. The truth of the situation didn't hit him until he saw you at the bar, laughing and drinking with another man. Maybe my luck has finally run out. He thought, trying to shove back any emotions from leaking out.

Aventurine had never truly wanted anything in his life. He couldn't afford the luxury of wanting something. He never asked for all the wealth he amassed or the luck he was born with. Hell, he didn’t even really want freedom. After being chained down for so long, Aventurine wouldn't know what to do if he was free.

But you were different.

He wanted you. But he couldn’t. 

And that was what pissed him off the most.

Veritas ── Dating Veritas was not for the weakhearted. Due to his extreme talent and unparalleled intelligence, he holds himself in high regard. He comes off as candid, self-centered, and condescending. 

Even mocking or narcissistic at times. But you knew him better. Veritas was just a bit too blunt but he was sensible and levelheaded. He wasn’t a bad person. In fact, it’s the opposite. 

He firmly believes that intellect isn’t confined to geniuses and seeks to distribute knowledge to the entire universe, all to “cure” ignorance. He wants to help people but is just a bit odd or “mean” while doing it. 

He does have a bit of an eccentric temperament but he meant well. That’s what you always told yourself but that excuse was starting to grow old. You were trying to be considered an understanding of where he was coming from, you always have been.

But you can only take so much. A person can only get knocked down so many times before they decide it's better to just stay on the floor. And it seemed you were reaching that breaking point with Veritas.

He would always point out your mistakes, nitpick something irrelevant, or just for the sake of it. You started to wonder if he even loved you. Never once did he really show affection toward you.

At first you tried to acknowledge that he might not feel comfortable with that but after years of being together, if he still wasn't comfortable enough with you to show basic affection… You couldn't help but wonder, what the hell have you been doing for the past four years of your life?

One day you had enough. 

Your words rang clearly throughout his study, "Veritas, I think we should stop seeing each other." You said vaguely but the message was clear. 

Veritas froze upon hearing your words, not expecting you to say such a thing. "Why?" he asked simply, the coldness now turning into a sharp tone. The suddenness of this topic left him confused, a part of him wanting to lash out at you, but he refrained.

"I just don't think we're compatible as a couple."

Veritas scoffed as soon as you finished speaking, feeling slightly annoyed at that word. Was 'compatibility' the thing that doomed their relationship? "So you have realised we are not compatible after so many years of being together?" His tone now sharp with the hints of slight aggression.

You didn’t flinch at his cold tone. "You don't have to get so defensive, I'm not blaming you." You said with a gentle expression, which was odd for you. You've always been more hot-headed and impulsive so seeing you like this was weird to Veritas.

"It's just that I want to be loved in a more open way and you can't provide that for me which is okay. That's just not you, and I don't want you to change yourself for me. I'm sure you're more suited with someone who's like yourself. I'm just not the person."

Veritas could tell by your calm explanation, that you’ve been thinking about this for quite some time and that fact stabbed his heart in a way he’d never felt before. "I tried my best to love you as much as I possibly can, but apparently that was not enough for you..."

"Just because you love me doesn't mean I feel loved." You countered and Veritas froze. "Let's think about it this way. Let's say you're trying to teach somebody something. It's easy for you so you have high expectations for the person you’re teaching. But that person just doesn't get it. They're trying their best but they're not understanding. You would feel upset or annoyed, right? Because their best isn't good enough for you." You tried to explain in a way he would understand.

“The fault wouldn't be placed on the person who's trying their best, it would be placed on the one who had unrealistic expectations.” You finished with a strained smile. You loved Veritas, with all your heart but you couldn’t go on like this.

Veritas had to stifle the urge to argue for a moment. He hated how accurate your example was, but he also understood your point. “Do you believe in fate? Destiny and or soulmates, things like that?“ He asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

You paused, raising an eyebrow at him. Veritas was an intelligent man when it came to logic and reasoning. Things like destiny and fate weren't “logical” in the slightest. “I suppose.” You answered carefully.

“Do you think we’re soulmates in every other universe?” You blinked at Veritas’ question. Never in a million years would you have thought that he would ask you something like that. You sighed and decided to give him a taste of his own blunt medicine.

“Do you treat me like shit in every universe?” Veritas felt his heart shatter at your response. He didn’t know you felt like that. He didn’t know that he was treating you so badly to the point where’d you had to resort to this.

He regretted asking. This would perhaps be the only time he wished to remain ignorant, despite his life goal of getting rid of it. 

- Navigation -   - Supernova -

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

i was wondering how togame, sakura and unemiya (if you can) would react to someone else flirting with the reader😭 and p.s i just wanted to say your writing is chefs kisses 🫶🏻

she’s mine (just not officially)

or, someone is flirting with you, and they can’t deal, featuring: haruka sakura, hajime umemiya, jo togame, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki

a/n: I actually sort of combined two similar requests into one — just felt it would be easier for everyone! tbh I loved writing this. jealous boys are yummy ~ and thank you so so much for your kind words babes, they mean so much to me! <33

note: first time writing for pretty boy kiryu!! ooh nooo he’s actually kinda cute eeeeee

c/w: fem!reader, crushes, headcanon blurbs, language, jealousy, pre-relationship

the instant that sakura haruka registers that someone’s flirting with you, he’s clenching his teeth so hard that his gums start to ache.

there’s many things that crop up in his mind and threaten to spill from his lips — but he holds them back, because none of them would truly make sense in the situation.

you can’t very well tell someone to back off of your girlfriend when she’s not your girlfriend.

it irritates sakura to no end to watch the way your cheeks flush prettily at every lame-ass compliment the slooze offers you; they aren’t even that good, simply mediocre at best, and it’s very clear that all the dude wants is to get in your pants — and sakura can’t even fathom how you can’t see that.

your giggles, normally so pleasant to his ears, grate like nails on a chalkboard when they’re evoked by someone else.

sakura knows he’s more than likely overreacting, but he can’t help it. every fiber of his being is screaming at him to yank the douche away from you, to separate your bodies that are drawing way too close for comfort, to drag you off to some darkened corner and show you that he’s the one that’s worthy of your attention — that all he wants is to receive it and offer you his own.

but he can’t — and that’s the worst part of it. all these things he wants to do, all the things that sleazeball is currently doing, are the things that sakura is too scared to do.

maybe one day, he’ll pluck up the courage to put himself in that place; and if only he could see the yearning glances you send his way, then he would realize there is no need to fear rejection.

truth be told, you won’t even know hajime umemiya is jealous, because he knows how to (mostly) play it cool.

he’s long since learned to smother negative emotions with ones that are positive — and if he simply can’t smother them, he will act as if they aren’t even there, and proceed with his day like normal.

this process is no different when he feels that green snake curl up in his heart.

of course, he’s outwardly calm, but on the inside he’s seething over every interaction you have with the man. umemiya is taking note of every single pick-up line and compliment the man is throwing at you, and discreetly judging them — that one was way too cheesy, or that one delivered way too lazily, and really, when is the whole “did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” schtick going to die out?

umemiya couldn’t blame him for asking that question though; you were purely angelic, what with that soft smile and those beautiful eyes and that silky hair — he could go on and on about every angelic quality about you.

umemiya does his best to keep his nose out of these situations, but the second he hears the man suggest a date, umemiya is springing to your side with a bright smile.

he’ll apologize to the man and launch into an explanation about how you have plans already (plans of which you weren’t aware of until just now), and only once he’s secured you away from your suitor will he smile sheepishly and say, “I totally forgot to let you know about that. just figured you’d want to come along.”

umemiya never once stops to wonder why you never refute his claims of agreed-upon plans, or why you never question the fact that those same plans turn out to be very rushed and obviously cooked up on the spot; or why he only springs them on you when you’re being hit on.

when someone is flirting with you, jo togame has to find a way to occupy his hands — by fiddling with his ramune bottle, fixing the collar of his jacket, or even in some cases, by simply shoving them in his pockets.

because, nine times out of ten, when someone starts flirting with you, togame is right there beside you; and his hands begin to tremble with the urge to place themselves somewhere on your body. he wants to sate that protective and possessive growl in him by showing a subtle claim over you by a well-placed hand on your hip.

but togame doesn’t hold that claim over you; because although he’s head over heels for you, you have absolutely no idea about it — and sometimes, togame doubts you’d ever hold the same depth of emotion for him too, even if you did know.

so he sits, and he waits, and he seethes. and he yearns. and he thinks.

thinks about what it would feel like if he could do the very thing his mind was screaming at him to; wonders how good it would feel to have your body tucked against his, to be able to look at the guy and say, “I’m sorry, but she’s taken,” all the while you smile up happily at him. like he’s the only man on earth.

togame thinks about all these things — completely unaware that, in that same moment, you are too.

whenever a man enters a conversation with you, suo hayato very subtly injects himself into it and then takes complete control of it. though it’s fairly obvious the man only wanted to talk to you, suo somehow manages to get him roped into a conversation with him as well.

suo is never straight-up rude — but it’s not hard to discern if one bothers to read between the lines. his voice is as calm and unaffected as ever, even bordering on genuinely conversational at times, but there’s this hint of something else beneath it; almost like a threat of some sort.

any and all topics pertaining to you are steered in another direction, the turns always orchestrated by suo himself — sometimes you find yourself wondering why the guy is even still there, why he’s actually conversing with suo when you could clearly feel that he was interested in you.

the man knows why. he feels the silent commands that suo sends his way, feels the aura from him.

of course, you can’t really detect that — but the man flirting with you certainly can. whatever metaphorical language suo is speaking in the man understands clearly, and before you know it, his interest in you is deflected (forced) away.

and every time, you’re left wondering why you don’t feel disappointed about it; and why it just feels more natural for it to just be you and suo.

kiryu mitsuki is what you’d call a man of few expressions. it isn’t that he’s emotionless or incapable of feeling, it’s just that it’s difficult to tell what he’s feeling. his expression is always soft, eyebrows relaxed and eyes even more so, his lips always pulled into a smile as if he’s heard a joke that only he understands. if anything, you’d say kiryu looks content with life — it’s actually a quite charming look.

but when someone’s flirting with you, kiryu looks anything but. his brows are furrowed and the smile is wiped from his mouth. his eyes, a kind, gentle green, burn like twin peridot in hellfire.

kiryu can’t even hide it; can’t be bothered too. he’s shown his affection towards you in ways that are too blatant to be considered merely-friendly. he may not have ever verbally confirmed his feelings for you, but he doesn’t really have to. kiryu shows them.

of course, he’s well aware that you haven’t reciprocated these feelings; and he won’t force you to — if it happens, it’ll happen naturally.

it’s because of this philosophy that he won’t ever interject himself or disrupt the flow of your conversation with the man, but after it’s all said and done with, kiryu will be just a tad clingier towards you than before — and secretly, selfishly, hope that you’ll reciprocate his feelings soon, so that he can finally call you his and he can say all the things he wants to to guys that flirt with you.

[okwonyo]

﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ──SUMMER NIGHT. in which ⸝ ㅤ 𝗃𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

엔하이픈 제이 ⠀ ノ⠀ female reader 6OO repost ； for @boyfhee ！ non-idol au fluff potential friends2lovers ⠀⎯⠀⠀ not proof-read skinship kissing ⠀， recueil . . .

a/n. for the talented, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing cael who has always been kind and caring to me >< i love and appreciate her a whole lot !

this is not how you imagined your summer to be. the endless enthusiasm taking over your body whenever your friend asks you to go shopping, going on a walk in the depth of the night and waving back at the see, are dreams that feel far away from you now.

the way you got enrolled in that summer project by your friend is far behind you. the ten hours straight of drawing weighting on your shoulders added to the unbearable summer heat is taking too much if your energy to hate her. the only comforting you each day, after a day that seems longer than the last one, is the sight of your best friend waiting for you on the stairs.

you usually run to him with a wide smile on your face. he walks you home, sometimes he even slide his hand in yours and you both avoid talking about the butterflies you feel in your stomach. jay gives you a hug and whisper a soft good night in your ear.

it’s different lately. there is something that shifted, in the way that he acts around you or the way your answer to his actions. shy, awkward and sweet. you can see it in his face— whether jay has something he doesn’t want to say, or whether he has reasons, for the times he shows an unfamiliar side of him, or wether he’s currently trying to overcome something, you can’t really be sure about it, but you just want him to enjoy the moment. thus, even if your mini ventilator died in your hands.

you end up sleeping on the a table in the art atelier, after drawing him playing the guitar; the sound you hear from across the hall, right next to where the stairs he sits on is, you can tell from the way the corner of his lips turns up, that he likes it. he always loves the guitar as far as you know, and you always loved seeing him play. it made your heart swell.

jay must have wondered where you are, he comes to look for you after a while, right after helping a kid with his guitar lesson —because his heart is tender like that. his eyes run around the piece and they stop in your beautiful sleeping face. the moonlight peaking through the windows reflects on your face. all red and a bit sweaty as you softly snore, he has never seen anything cuter.

his eyes run around the room, stopping, at some point, on a board, “the exhibition deadline was last thursday? it was a few days ago,” he whispers as he reads it. “then why is she⎯”

he gets cut by his own brain when his gaze falls on you again, falling on the skretch you made of him. his ears heat up as he stands here. he sits on the chair next to you; his leans his head on the table hand faces you, “you are quick witted, also really kind,” he whispers to you.

jay contemplates you for a while before straightening up. he leans towards you, gets lost in your features and at a given time, his forehead collides with yours softly, in a well too natural motion, as if god created him with only one thought in mind; to be here with you and tell you: “i like you,” with a soft spoken tone, kissing you on the corner of your mouth right after.

he blames the soft red flush appearing on your face on the unsustainable summer’s heat you keep complaining to him about. the smile he loves with all his might, appearing on your lips, however, is unexplainable.

[basicbunnyboo]

You know what I need? Soft sex with Adam.

I need him to melt and become putty with a simple caress. This man has not known a soft touch in a long time. He’s so touch starved it hurts.

I need him to be in some sort of internal debate. Some emotional turmoil that just throws him for a loop. Then you come in and he just clings to her. You’re confused because he, this large man who could easily crush you, is just holding onto you like you’re a lifeline.

I need him to start kissing you, gentle pecks along your neck, soft praises and pleas for affection. “Stay with me” and “So good for me”

I need him to look up at you in a silent ask to let him undress you. He’ll do everything, please let him. He needs to know he can make you happy. That he’s good enough.

I need him to be so careful and take his time to prep you as he kisses every part of you. Not in a possessive way, although maybe a bit, but in a more intimate manner. He’d kiss you in that “You’re so fucking amazing” “‘m so lucky” “Too good for me” way

I need him to gently hold you, making sure that you feel good, that you’re comfortable, not that he doesn’t usually. Just a soft rocking, not even for the actual sex, but the intimacy of it all. The fact that you trust him enough is too good to be true in his mind.

I need soft sex with Adam and I blame @sprainedwriting

[brucewaynehater101]

Recently my mind has been plagued with ideas about things Tim could be other than human and what would both fit him and make an interesting story. I believe I might have found something that suits him rather well.

Tim has always been a strange child, always silent and always watching. Learning everything he can about everyone he has to interact with so that he can best make sure every interaction goes in his favor. He learned his manipulation from his Mother after all. She was the very best at it so he will be the very best too. She nor his "father" have watched over him since he was very small, after all they are creatures that do not raise their own young. Her returning to see him every few months, teaching him how to hide what he is and how to defend himself, *and* making sure he has food and shelter is far, far more than most of his species could ever even dream of. Janet is their version of Best Mom In The Universe, even if she's horrifyingly neglectful by Human Standards.

As for how Jack treats Tim, he doesn't. After all, once they were married and she had everything, she didn't need him anymore. Jack died before Tim was even conceived and the current Jack is nothing more than a husk, a living puppet that his mother walks around with as a shield to keep herself safe from prying eyes and questions. Perfect for keeping her cover as Just A Human. She has taught Tim how to do this same thing using small animals from the garden (and making sure he eats them after. He's still a growing boy who needs to eat after all) si that one day he can have a few living puppets of his own.

Tim does not tell anyone he isn't human, as per his mother's instructions. After all, he shares quite a few traits with a type of creature that humans *hate* and actively go out of their way to kill. Well, most do.

As he grows and ages as Robin, he never let's anything slip, he can't afford to let them know. He knows that Bruce doesn't trust magic in Gothem (or at least, Tim thinks that's the truth) and even if he did, the others have shown a distaste for the creature that he shares so much with. Especially Alfred and Dick, the later of which he has verbally claimed to *hate*. Given, one of them was in his hair when he yelled this but it still stung quite deeply and Alfred works hard to make sure that not a single trace of them can be found anywhere in the manor, even scolding Tim once for letting so much proof of their existence pile up in the corners of his room. But Tim doesn't blame him either, Alfred's job is to keep the house clean after all.

Eventually he must come clean though and what a way it is. Bruce has been working a case with Constantine about people going missing in Gothem. Turns out, everyone who has was some kind of magical creature and the people doing it are likely poachers. The others have been informed of the case so that they can report anything they know or anyone they know who could be a target. Tim doesn't say anything, instead keeping a closer eye on those he does know. He would never, ever sell out another creature. He would rather die.

A week later, an attempted raid on the poachers goes wrong and ends up with Jason, Tim, Bruce, and Damian all captured by the poachers. Tim is the last to wake up and when he does, the poachers are discussing what kind of undead Jason is, scanning the tied up vigilante with a device that simply says again, "subject, magical. Type, undead. Futher information, unknown."

At this point Tim realizes he's the only one not tied up. He's also the only one in a cage. He tries to pretend to be asleep but the one watching him says, "look who's awake. You know, we had bets on how many of you Bats were part of the magical community. Seems like I won the bet since only you and Red Hood over there are. Don't bother trying to lie your way out, our scanner can see through your Glamor spell, no matter how powerful it is. And this?" They hold up a small remote control with about a dozen buttons on it, "this does a wonderful little thing where it makes a specific pitch at a specific volume that causes Magical Creatures to drop their Glamor Spells or Shifts. Luckily it's nothing more than mildly annoying to humans."

A button is pressed before anyone can ask questions and the remove makes a loud, buzzing sound. It's not painful for the trio who are tied up, but Tim? Tim is shaking and writhing and *screaming* with both hands pressed over his ears. He is rolling back and forth across the ground as he screams for the person to stop, just *stop*. Bruce is almost free when he freezes upon realizing something. There aren't two tear tracks on his sons face. There's a lot. A pair of eyes have opened on his cheek bones and above his eyebrows and a smaller pair between them. Tim has gotten much paler and his canines have turned long and sharp like his nails. Tim rolls onto his stomach and curls up as best he can, screaming as there is a cracking sound. A long spindly, spider like leg shoots out of his side and slams into the floor, curling up in pain like the rest of Tim's limbs.

When the device is finally turned off, Tim is laying on his side, wheezing in pain and his legs are gone. In their place is the body of a giant spider which has sharp points at the tips of its legs instead of the regular spider feet. Tim has 8 eyes and is totally limp as he tries to recover. The Poacher simply laughs, "A Jorōgumo, a real master of puppets you are. But weak without them. God, your kind is so rare, you'll fetch us the price of at least 4 normal monsters. Add in you're a famous vigilante and we could break a few million dollars off *just* you."

Tim glares weakly at them and hisses softly. He knows the numbers are true. It's the secondary reason he never told anyone. He knew he would either get squished or sold off. How he just needs to figure out how to escape from Gothem before Bruce can confront him on this. He doesn't want to explain.

Aww... was he collecting little spiders and getting upset when his family kept expressing their hatred/distaste for them? Did he have to hear them talk about how creepy their eyes are, their weird abundance of legs, and how disgusting their overall being is before he excused himself to stare in a mirror and compare the similarities?

Does he dare to meet their eyes after the reveal, or does he fear finding the look of revulsion?

Also, would he find comfort in knitting, crochet, and weaving? Is his house full of hand-made blankets?

Anyways, enjoyed what you have and would definitely read more

[chosolala]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚ Gojo headcannons

like the title says, here are some ‘silly’ little headcannons i have about satoru gojo ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

he has the craziest collection of glasses, every style shape and size, sometimes he’ll let you borrow a pair if you really need to but only if he gets to pick them

he collects digimon figures and collectibles, despite how lame it sounds his collection is actually pretty cool

he never talks about his emotions, he tries to ignore it but he feels everything so deeply.

he’s actually quite emotionally unavailable, he masks a lot with humor or being goofy overall.

he still considers suguru his best friend and secretly hoped he would turn around and come back to him

his love language is physical touch and gift giving, i mean he has a lot of money to spend and doesn’t mind spoiling you to whatever you want or whatever he wants you to have

he always has his hands on you, in public or in private he always wants to be close to you or touching you in some way or form, even if it’s just his foot touching yours under the table at a restaurant.

he’s really good at stupid and kind of useless things, like he could destroy anyone in a game of random trivia or bowling or monopoly and is such a sore winner, he never shuts up about it

he uses super overpriced lip balm for no reason, like he spends $40 on a single lip balm just because he liked how it smelled, at least his lips are always moisturized

he really wants to adopt a pet but he just doesn’t have time and it makes him really sad

he still blames himself for what happened to geto

he loves binging tv or movies, his idea of a perfect saturday night would be cuddling up on the couch with you and watching a movie that’s so bad it’s actually funny

gojo is actually very smart and logical but everyone just sees him as this silly jokester

he loves shopping. sometimes he goes shopping with nobara and they get into disagreements because they don’t like the pieces the other chose, like gojo would get mad because nobara thinks the shirt he chose for himself was ugly

he has a big sweet tooth, he loves baked goods

he is very good with his hands

he is a diva, he’ll go get his hands manicured with you and get facials done with you, even if you don’t necessarily like that stuff he’ll convince you to go.

all his clothes are designer/brand name even if it’s not a visible brand, its always branded, he is very boujee.

every chance he gets his taking you on weekend trips or vacations, he loves traveling with you since you’re the only consistent thing in his life and you give him some sense of normalcy

he sleeps in digimon pajama pants sometimes, he’s had them for years and just tries not to wear them around you.

#selfieking, his camera roll is full of silly selfies of him and pictures of the two of you together. he also has a lot of embarrassing pictures of megumi when he was younger and teases him with these pictures

he loves aquariums because they remind him of better days, he gets lost in the imagery infront of him

he also loves taking baths, he doesn’t often since he doesn’t have time but when he does he goes all out, bubbles, candles, bath bombs, tv shows on his laptop, dim lighting. he just likes to make the most of the time he has to relax

once he has you to himself, he shows you off to everyone, all his social medias are just pictures of you two on your dates and him posting about how lucky he is to have you

he never talks about geto, even if you asked he would just say he’s an old friend and end it at that.

he still catches himself wanting to tell geto certain things that would happen but then remembers geto isn’t in his life anymore

[gojosbf]

Can we just all agree that gojo being alone is his own fault because if geto leaves was so bad why didn’t he just go with him and if he was so lonely why didn’t he just try and be friends with the other people at the school?

And don’t say because they didn’t see him as human because that would be a lie he’s the reason that nobody wants to be around him anymore because he doesn’t respect people’s boundaries and has been getting on these people’s last nerve since high school so I don’t blame anybody but him for that 🤷‍♀️

no we cannot. "why didn't he just go with him" do you understand what that implies? did you read geto's dialogue during the kfc breakup? gojo could've single handedly killed all the non sorcerers. that means 1) the further plot of jjk wouldn't have existed and 2) it'd mean supporting masscare, to support geto he would also have to kill innocent humans. he thought he could change geto's mind because geto's methods were wrong, which is why gojo did not go with him.

now, gojo had friends he's even close to his students but the difference here is only geto UNDERSTOOD gojo completely (this is what he continues to say as well) and by the way none of the sorcerers he was close to ever really hated him, it was an annoyance towards his silliness and childish behaviour that's all. they tolerated it because they respected him. i would like you to give me an example of him "not respecting people's boundaries". when we talk about gojo satoru being lonely we mean the loneliness that comes with being the strongest and a genius, when you have no one else to accompany you in missions and battles because they'll only get in your way, when you don't even need care (healing by rct) from anyone else because you can do it yourself, when you're overworked to the bone because again it's easier for gojo satoru to handle it, when you are the only one left behind with hope for future generation and are trying to save your students while also handling the nasty higher ups, when the person who taught you about morals is also the one who ends up breaking them, when you've seen so many of your peers die and you couldn't do anything about it inspite of being a born genius. i don't know what you're getting at but the gojo satoru you're talking about doesn't exist in manga, maybe reread it again and you'll probably understand it better.

[bingeeaterblog]

// small warning big re touken hate it's a post on why I hate it and how I think it could've been done better BUT I encourage you to keep reading if you do like them and to give me your thoughts whether to tell me why you like them or why you think im wrong in some regards i love a good debate its why i joined Tumblr

I'm gonna start this off by talking about why I loved the original mangas touken.

They start off as strangers, them only having a REAL meeting when she saves his ass from nishio. Initially she was cold and rude, for every reason he was very disrespectful(also for good reason he was scared and all he knew about ghouls is that they are monsters who hurt people, one literally just had him in a choke hold) but I digress. Kaneki starts working at anteiku and he's shadowing touka much to her dismay she feels he can't do anything right and is just a know it all human.

Right off the bat they have a very interesting dynamic, touka learning to care for kaneki him starting to see her(and ghouls as a whole) as a person and not something he should be afraid of.

As time goes on, touka falls for him, it's what makes everything so hard when he abandons her. She feels betrayed he left just like ayato and her dad did no one ever stays for her? How could they? She makes herself so hard to love shutting everyone out. She blames herself partly, not being able to protect him from whatever happened at the aoigiri base.

When she does see him again she's angry! How dare he come back after all this! Why can't he just make up his mind! So she lashes out, she misses him so dearly but she can't tell him that? Let him know she cares? She hits him and tells him to never come back to anteiku (to her).

You can see why it's so appealing!! The angst!! The drama!!! They have it all! Toukas longing and kanekis isolation are what makes them so GOOD.

To explain why I don't like re touken we have to talk about why I don't like re touka.

Touka before was a very well rounded character, she was brash and a little impulsive, she loves the people around her even if its hard for her to show it in a healthy way. She'll do whatever it takes even if it means risking her own life.

Re touka, doesn't really have that. She's very... Water downed. I like to call it house house wife-ification. She's lost any semblance of her old personality. While I do like the idea of touka calming down and becoming more docile it's not done right, we meet her again and she's just... Like that? There's no character development of her changing it just happens! She's shaved down so she can be the perfect love interest for kaneki, it's even shown in her design! Her eyes are softer and she doesn't hold any of the same energy as old touka(this happens with a lot of female characters ishida just ended up giving them all the same face besides eto).

Kaneki is? Fine? I loved haise as a character and him and touka were sorta cute if u kinda ignore that fact touka isn't touka. Kaneki was fine and re and that's it, he's just okay. His Savior complex is removed and it's just "I wanna save people!!" The whole reason his savior complex is important is BECAUSE it ends up hurting more people he should've been developed to learn how to manage that and be the hero he could be.

Now for their actual relationship.

It's very.... Rushed? There's no tension no build up just "are you a virgin?" Which in my opinion is something touka would never say she'd stumble around it. they made her bold at the wrong times she's an awkward lil freak. And then boom! Sex yeah! And it's? Okay? It's not my favorite I felt like a sex scene between them should've been more desperate!! That's when the marriage bite should've happened! It should've bites and messy kisses and promises to never leave again! There was no passion! There was the "why are you crying" but that didn't really do anything for me!!

I do like the end scene where she was petting his hair that was very soft which is what he needs.

Then toukas pregnant!(Which is something I'll get into good another time) And it kinda feels like they only rush into the marriage because she is... Like I feel like they should've atleast had a dating stage y'know!! Everything just felt so fast with them and nothing like the original:(

The end credits scene feels nothing like touka, she looks dead that's not the character I used to know :( kaneki too only the scene with hide felt real

And yeah! I like ichika! But how cool would it have been if touka got pregnant AFTER re and in the end credit thing she was revealed! Another natural born one eyed ghoul!! Idk...

This is very messy sorry I had to get this out. if you like them? That's fine!! That's super duper cool its just not my favorite. Tell me why you think I'm wrong! Id love to hear your opinions

[thebeastofblackmoor]

some of these have been posted before, but I figured I'd compile them in one place. Here are some unused/possibly just unbeknownst to me audio files that WILL and already HAVE kept me up at night:

Addison believing that Jessalyn is dead and blaming herself

MORE SAVANNAH/WADE

Savannah calling Nancy a yenta = possible Jewish Savannah!??

Wade and Savannah breaking up because of Wade going to jail

Confirmation that Jackson was a Bad Man with no family values 📝📝👀👀

Wade was originally going to be a more distant cousin

Wade using the Grey Lady's grave to throw shade at Clara

Young Clara being so severely traumatized and convinced her aunt and uncle didn't want her DEAR GOD

Wade waiting for his own death :( FROWNY FACE :(

Addison's sad comment on Clara's parenting

Harper's super dramatic metaphor for her and Clara's fallen sisterhood that breaks my heart every time

Harper explaining her affinity for books... (#supportyourlocallibraries) Also re-contextualizes her "I don't function well in reality" comment a bit

Colton (righteously) yelling at his parents/his parents wanting him to ask for money from the grieving Thorntons lmaooo

Colton doing some SHADY SHIT that I don't even know what it is but good for him

Jessalyn dramatically telling someone they can't keep running away. Originally assumed it was Clara, but since Colton literally tries to run away, I think it was actually meant to be a confrontation between Jess and Colton

Addison somehow getting scared off of helping Nancy

Jessalyn realizing Clara's controlling behavior is part of a much bigger and more disturbing pattern (delicious)

(Kind of suggests Wade was originally going to be more estranged, too? Since in-game dialogue has Wade saying he and everyone is close to Jessalyn, but this bit of dialogue suggests Clara tried to keep them away from each other.)

Possible Wade & Harper scene?

Wade saving Nancy

Nancy letting Clara stay in the fire all suicidalcore OR possibly, based on the prev dialogue, HARPER doing it and Nancy coming to save Clara

"I CHANGED MY MIND" ruh roh!!!

Possibly Nancy listening to Clara burning alive and just

Ned's tongue 🤪🤪🤪

[a-french-coconut]

Malconnor

Nobody has ever beaten Malcolm at chess.

It's something he's quite proud of, maybe even a little too much.

But how could anybody blame him ? He won against all his challengers, the white king always falling to his flawless strategy.

So when Connor Stoll comes knocking at his cabin's door asking to play, he accepts quickly, confident in his ability in winning.

"Aren't you bored of playing chess the traditional way ?" Connor asks, lazily resting on one of the beds while Malcolm searches for the chessboard.

"There's only one way to play chess, Connor."

Malcolm frowns, still looking for the chessboard. He always put it in the same place, did he store it somewhere else after his victory against Miranda ?

"Only if you lack creativity," sings Connor from the bed.

"Fine," Malcolm sighs, abandoning his search, "what do you propose ?"

Connor smiles and gets closer to him, his blue eyes glinting.

“I suggest we play in our minds. No real chessboard, all will be happening up there,” he gives Malcolm a light tap on the forehead, “do you accept ?”

Malcolm hesitates. Connor’s idea definitely seems more challenging and fun than virtual chess but…

“What’s with that troubled pretty face of yours ?”

Connor gets even closer than he already was and with an infuriating smile taunts him :

“Scared you’ll lose ?”

For one second, Malcolm cannot get past the pretty face of yours.

Does he really mean it ?

Or is it just an expression the friendly son of Hermes uses ?

Then, he registers the taunt.

"Don't be ridiculous, Stoll." He scoffs, consciously ignoring the blush spreading on his cheeks. "I'll win either way."

"If you say so" The other boy snickers before taking a few steps back, allowing himself and Malcolm to concentrate.

He closes his eyes and visualize perfectly the chessboard and its pieces.

“Closing your eyes is not allowed though.”

Malcolm jumps at the voice’s closeness and when he opens his eyes, Connor is standing impossibly close to him, those blue eyes still sparkling and now looking right at him.

“We have to play the whole game looking in each other’s eyes. Otherwise you lose.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to those terms.”

“You agreed to play.”

With no mercy for Malcolm's heart, Connor gets even closer to him, to the point where he can the freckles dotting the other boy's face.

"You can still back out if you want."

Ah, it's nothing more than a calculated strategy then. A plot to make him flustered in order to win. Ignoring the pang of disappointment in his heart, Malcolm steels himself and looks right back at the son of Hermes.

"I'm not, now quit your little games and let's begin."

Connor cackles, allowing Malcolm to push him away.

"You take white and I'll play the black pieces, timer ?"

"Nah" Connor says with a smile, "I don't want to rush our time together."

The son of Hermes is sprawled on a chair, the definition of a cat bathing in the sun.

Except for those eyes, bright and sharp, pointed at Malcolm.

"Shall I ?"

Malcolm nods, trying his best to concentrate despite feeling so seen.

"Okay, let's see... Knight to C3".

---------------------------------------

Malcolm lost tracks of how much time they have been playing.

All that matters is that he's losing.

Terribly so.

He makes stupid moves, place his bishop in front a rook defenceless, doesn't picture Connor's queen taking his knight.

It's not his fault though, it is Connor's entirely.

It's his fault he's sweating, that his throat is dry no matter how much he drinks.

It's his fault for getting so close, his hands brushing Malcolm's and then putting distance between them, for making him suffer a brain malfunction when he licks his lip while concentrating, for

But mostly, it is the constant eye contact, the vibrant blue of Connor's eyes, the burning intensity that drives him mad, making him lose all focus.

It's a miracle he never adverted his eyes, he's sure he is blushing mess, a sight Connor seems to find particularly amusing.

Of course he would, his damned strategy is working with grandiose efficiency.

"Earth to Malcolm, do you copy ?"

"What ?" He says started, Connor way too close for him to function properly.

"I said checkmate, and I don't think you have any way out."

He's smiling, a horrible smug smirk that suits his face very well.

He tries to picture the board but all he sees are Connor's eyes looking at him with the glint of victory.

"Fine" he sighs, "You win."

Immediately, he looks everywhere else but Connor, the other boy clapping and praising his own victory.

"Well, there goes my winning streak." He plops down on his bed, eyes facing the ceiling.

Only to almost have a heart attack when Connor's face appears in his vision.

His breath hitches, his heart's rate going crazy when he realises Connor is right next to him, laying on his bed and looking at him like he wasn't actively trying to kill him.

"If it is so important to you, we can say you won," he shrugs, "My goal wasn't to beat you anyways."

He turns his head so fast he almost snap it.

"Then why did you act like that ?" He asks bewildered.

"Like what ?" Connor looks at him innocently, his face the definition of an angel. But his eyes are definitely the house of a demon, they way they shine mischievously.

"Like-", he feels his face reddens. Had he misinterpreted ? Maybe Connor was just acting normal and he read too much into it. Oh Fates, kill him now please.

"Did it bother you ? The way I acted ?"

For the first time since he entered the cabin, Connor's voice is unsure, his hands fidgeting and his voice coated with nervousness.

Malcolm's brain is going to fry and he is going to die.

Or maybe his heart will give up before his brain.

Either Connor is still playing, a frankly cruel game is that the case, or he is trying to make Malcolm understand something.

He dearly hopes it's the latter option.

"No, hum, it didn't." He gulps, his hand reaching Connor's, "Actually, I kinda liked it."

When he brushes his fingers, he waits for the cry of surprise, the "woah, what are you doing ?" but none of that comes.

Instead, Connor intertwines their fingers together.

He then props himself up with his other hand, his face hovering on Malcolm's.

He must be the colour of a tomato and Connor can probably hear his heart pounding.

"Can I kiss you ?" Connor whispers, those blue eyes looking straight into his grey ones.

"Yes." He answers breathless.

He has kissed people before.

A girl named Laura when he was twelve and it has been tasteless, only the feeling of his lips touching hers and nothing more.

The one with Rafael before the battle of Manhattan had been filled with some kind of frenzy, the one you get when you think you won't live to see another day.

But this, this is intoxicating.

When Connor kisses him, Malcolm instinctively grabs his neck, pulling him closer.

He doesn't want this to stop, he wants to kiss Connor until he can't breathe, until his lips are swollen and red, until-

"Wait, wait, I need to breathe."

Connor gently pulls himself off Malcolm, contently resting against him.

"By Athena, that was amazing."

"Please don't mention you mom just after we kissed."

"Right, you're right. But still, amazing."

Connor laughs, a sound full of mirth that Malcolm wants to hear until the day he dies and hopefully after too.

"Can I presume we will be doing that again ?" He asks, twirling a strand Malcolm's hair with his finger.

"You presume right."

They stay silent for a minute, basking in each other's presence and proximity.

"Does that mean you're not telling anyone that I lost ?"

"Sorry, can't do that."

"Why ?"

"Because I won darling."

The blush comes back with full force when Connor calls him darling, making the other boy cackles.

"Everybody know what was my goal when I entered this cabin. Right now, I think they are waiting for us outside to throw us in the lake."

He gets up, beckoning Malcolm to do the same.

"Shall we, boyfriend ?"

Connor's lightens up when he calls him boyfriend, happiness literally glowing around him.

He is the most beautiful boy Malcolm has ever seen.

"Yes, we shall."

Indeed, the second they step out they are swarmed by the other campers.

"To the lake !" Cecil screams.

"That's my line."

"Not when you're the one whose about to take a bath, brother."

All the way to the lake, Malcolm holds Connor's hand and when they get thrown, he doesn't let it go.

"Wanna ditch them and take a trip to New York ?" His boyfriend whispers in his ear, "I know the way."

"You're going to be a very bad influence on me."

"That's not a no."

"Chiron is going to be furious."

"We're not the first lovesick demigods to pull this kind of trick."

"We are both counsellors."

Connor kisses teasingly his neck and Malcolm's entire body short-circuits.

"They'll be fine. Besides," He gives him another kiss, on the jaw this time "I know a great restaurant that I'm sure you'll like."

"Okay," his voice comes out strangled and way more high pitched than usual, "lead the way."

"Excellent choice !" Connor says, excited, "we are going to have so much fun !"

When they come back, Chiron is indeed irritated, scolding them about how dangerous and reckless they had been.

Malcolm doesn't miss the fond look in his mentor's eyes when he shoos them away, letting them go without any kind of punishment.

What a better way to start Pride Month than Malconnor ?

[team7-headquarter]

I genuinely think any ship within the og Team 7 students would make sense. There're 0 reasons to fight about it, they're all just as justified.

Naruto was obsessed for yeeeeeaaaars with his teammates. He looked at them like they hung the moon and the stars in the sky for him. Sasuke and Sakura were the only boy and girl on Earth, lol.

Sasuke and Sakura were used to being cruel to put some distance between them and the world. Defense mechanism or not, Naruto was maybe the only person in the entire world that would never eat that up. He knew feeling lonely, he knew being hurt, he knew to feel useless... Fuck that, for him, there would never be as someone as awesome as his teammates.

His most important promise in life was to save Sasuke, for both his, Sakura's and his own sake.

In return, Sasuke and Sakura would never shut up about him either. His their saviour, their hero, their sun and the boy fills their lives with joy.

That's why any ship with him works!

For Sakura, it's that there was textual romantic tension with both of them for the entire series. Their chemistry and backstory were intentionally written. That Kishimoto decided on the canon ships in the end, okay, but any of them could have worked. If you can't feel the love between them, blame the writing and not the characters, 'cause it was clear that Kishimoto wanted people to think of them as a love triangle for some time.

Since the genin days, she was their it girl. No one touches Sakura, no one hurts Sakura, blah blah blah. In exchange, even when she wasn't strong enough, she'd use herself as a shield for them. It makes no sense, but she'd jump between any attack and them at any moment. She would run to them when they have lost their mind, not even scared of them as much as she was scared for them.

She defended both of them when other people criticized them. She also lost faith and tried to manipulate them or kill them at some point out of pure desperation of keeping one of them alive. She was the one left behind time and time again, they are her whole reason to be who she is and to be a medic nin. All she ever wanted was to walk alongside them, not behind them.

Again, it works.

With Sasuke is so easy.

Naruto and Sakura were obsessed with him to the point of following him to the literal almost end of the world. The definition of hatred being actually love, because they'd be at each other's throats about it. Their goal in life? Sasuke. The person they cried about at night? Sasuke. What would they wish upon a star? For Sasuke to come back.

And Sasuke couldn't stop thinking about them. In his mind, they were always there. They'd follow him, almost haunt him. They were annoying and rude and ignorant, they were stupid, weak even, he loved them so much that he convinced himself he needed to kill them, cut their bonds.

They harbor endless love for him and with time, he came to understand that's just how they were and accept it.

The loyal 12 years old that would rather take the attacks himself than let his teammates be in any type of danger, did a full cycle and came to be the devoted man that vowed to atone for his mistakes and return to them one day.

If they gave themselves freely to him and almost without a reason, Sasuke gave himself back with all the reasons in the world.

Do I even have to explain why narusasusaku works too or—????

Anyway.

I could never fight over what's the better ship when I know they are all insane about each other.