#i hope u enjoy anon! <3

[inkykeiji]

sukuna defo has a corruption/innocence kink!!!

he just really loves ruining pretty things. he loves smashing them beyond ‘repair’, smearing them with him and soiling them beyond recognition. he loves staining them with his teeth and his claws and his palms, leaving behind everlasting claims of ownership—things that can’t be scratched or scrubbed off, things that won’t heal, don’t heal, permanently mangled by his fingers or his fangs. 

because bruises are pleasing, yes—splashes of blood pooling beneath thin skin in the primitive shapes of his fingerprints or his hands; and scabs are gorgeous, sure—glittering little rubies that encrust your skin, more beautiful than any piece of jewellery; but they’re all much too temporary. he needs things that are forever. he needs scars, raised and puckered and dimpled; he needs his teeth eternally etched into your inner thighs—thirty-two little indents, four deep gouges from the fangs. he needs his claws carved into your chest—a crude heart engraved into your left breast, his name singed across your neck, a permeant collar burnt into your flesh by red-hot talons. 

any pretty, delicate thing will do, but the innocents are his favourite. the innocents are his favourite, because they’re so pliable, they’re so pure, they’re so desperate to please. it makes them easy—easy to mold into whatever he wants them to be, easy to morph them into something that is his and his alone; his to create, his to destroy, his to resurrect. 

his. 

the innocents are naive and trusting, the innocents are willing; willing to submit, willing to comply, eager to be taught, to be good, to obey and earn their place. 

it’s an art, almost, he thinks, the utter corruption—destruction—of innocents. he likes the challenge, because each person is different; each person requires something else to shatter them to the prettiest shards of themselves in his palms. it’s like a reverse puzzle to him; instead of painstakingly putting something together, he is painstakingly deciphering how best to pull it apart.

and, oh, he’ll put you back together, of course, but he’ll put you back together his way. he’ll put you back together in a way only he knows how to, he’ll put you back together in a way no one else ever could. he’ll put you back together in a way that forces you to need him, dousing you in himself so when he does finally piece you back into a whole, it’s with him as the glue, ensuring that it is he who holds you intact, it is he who is irrevocably a part of you, forever, embedded deep in your soul.

[fishfingersandscarves]

pre-amnesia bhaalspawn norena <3 evil cleric who breaks your bones and heals you to break them again

[catcze]

Hello Catte !

Do you think Wriothesley would date someone who is asexual ? (Someone who feels little to no sexual attraction or desire to have sex) I kinda have the feeling that he wouldn’t as an asexual myself 😭 What do you think ?

I hope you have a great day/evening and are feeling well ! (Don’t feel pressured to write this, if you don’t feel comfortable with it and if you do, I can wait for as long as you need, since I adore your writing and characterisation of Wriothesley ^^)

Hi sweetheart !! Honestly? The way I interpret Wrio's character is someone who is just so genuinely enamored with you and is eager to show that to you in whatever form you're comfortable with, you know? If you feel no desire to have sex, that's a-okay with him. Wriothesley is the kind of guy who makes sure that he knows your boundaries and how far you're willing to go, and will always always always respect those.

Elaborating on that a lil but in a relationship, Wrio would be so communicative, yk??!? Like, this guy is not embarrassed about the things that he wants, and right now all he wants is to make you the happiest person in the world, and make sure that you'd be comfortable in a relationship with him. He definitely definitely does some research beforehand and he comes to you with a list of questions that he wants to ask to make sure that he's messing up as little as possible. It's so cute, because he lists them on a little notepad and everything hjadkjn He has a couple of questions, such as where on the asexuality spectrum you fall on, any hard boundaries that you want to establish, what you are and aren't comfortable with, and all that. He gives you his whole attention without a single ounce of judgement, and for the things that he deems particularly important, he writes those down too. SIde note, but when he's flipping through his notepad, you swear that you see a page where he's listed down things that you like, such as your favorite drinks, food, and colors, and it kinda makes your heart melt a little ♡

And !!!!! he always makes sure that you know that he'll listen to you ?!?!? like wtf he's such an absolute green flag HAHHAHA If you ever feel uncomfortable with anythingggg ever he will always listen to you. If you're in a situation with him and things are veering in a direction that you don't really like, you literally just have to say the word and he'll do everything in his power to make the circumstances more comfortable for you !! Just;;; listen listen listen i just love him so much and i genuinely believe that if you get in a relationship with this man, he just wants to make you as happy as can be. If your relationship has little or even no sex, it doesn't impact him in any way— all he cares about is that you're safe and comfy with him, and as long as he's fulfilled that, then Wriothesley is as happy as can be.

[miwtual]

The Original Trio in STAR WARS EPISODE VI: RETURN OF THE JEDI (1983)

(anonymous request)

[ughgoaway]

Blurb of Annie's birthday... Matty brings a cake to school to celebrate his little baby's special day... he stays a little while...

I'm loving all the blurbs

oh, I'm so glad you are loving the blurbs!!! I am loving writing them, little Annie Healy has my heart.

Anyway, yes yes yes I love this idea so much omg. 

(Can Ace write anything without saying “smile” and “eyes” 1000 times… wait and see!! (the answer is no.) Also, timeline wise this makes absolutely 0 sense but… I do not care!! All that matters is the vibe <33)

It's Monday when Annie comes in very proudly and announces “Miss y/n, I'm six on Friday” with her chest puffed out and a big smile on her face.

You pretend you don't know, despite having seen it on the system last week, “Is it really Annie? Wow! You're growing up so quickly” You smile down at her as she nods along to your words, holding her bookbag (do other countries have these? idk) in one hand and the other hand out, ready to gesture with when she spoke.

“My daddy says the same thing.” she starts. Then her face lights up further, “You know my daddy is coming in on Friday!! He asked Mrs Richards and she said that he could come and bring a cake for everyone!!” she recounts excitedly before her face drops, and she suddenly gets very serious. “But you can't tell anyone that miss y/n, it's a secret. Pinky promise?”

You smile at her but soon put on a fake stern face to match hers. You drop to her eye line, stick your finger out, and link it with hers, “I promise Annie. Now, how about you go put your bookbag away so we can get started?” she doesn't respond but instead nods and shuffles off to set her bag down.

Leaving you standing and reeling that Matty is coming in on Friday, in peak proud dad mode, to celebrate his daughter (who you love.) fuck. This was going to make your head spin.

/////////////

cut to the actual day, and Annie comes in wearing a little badge and a hat. You see Matty drop her off from the classroom. you totally weren't staring out the window waiting to see him arrive or anything…

he wasn't even really dressed up, just a chequered button-up and jeans. but for some reason, he still made your heart race. seeing him bend down and give her a kiss on the cheek, and a big hug almost made you audibly sigh, but you caught yourself before you did. because that would be inappropriate, you didn't have any feelings for him. none at all. totally neutral.

Annie came bounding in, a massive smile on her face showing off her gappy smile. she'd very proudly come in the week before talking about losing one of her teeth, and now, every time she smiled, her gaps were on show.

class started, and to avoid Annie literally buzzing with excitement all day, you allowed her to announce to the class the news of her big day.

with the happiest face you could imagine, she said, "It's my birthday today! I'm 6 and my daddy is going to come in with cake for everyone!" 

a chorus of cheers came out as you sat behind your desk, trying to stop your grin from growing an unreasonable amount. 

soon enough, you got the class back in order, and the day whizzed past. Suddenly, it was 2:30, and there was a knock on the door.

matty stuck his head around the door and quickly met your eyes, "hi" he breathed out, staring at you with adoration in his eyes.

“Hi” you breathed out in the same way. For a few seconds, you both stood there with stupid grins on your faces staring into each other's eyes. Of course, in a classroom of 5 and 6-year-olds, that peaceful staring didn't last long. But it simultaneously felt like a quick glance and a full minute.

Annie comes running out of her seat and to the door. Matty quickly catches on and comes fully into the classroom, managing to hold a cake in one hand and hugging his very excited daughter with the other.

“Daddy!!” she squeals with excitement, bouncing in her dad's arms as he tries desperately to balance a cake. Over the young girl's shoulder, he shoots you a worried glance, and you snap out of your trance and come to grab the cake.

“Ah yes, let me just grab this,” you say, and Matty smiles graciously at you. His other hand quickly scooped Annie up into his arms to greet her properly.

“Hi, peanut!! You have a good birthday?” he asks. His eyes flick between his daughter, babbling on about her day, and you standing at your desk showing a room full of mesmerised children the cake he brought.

In between his daughter's rambling stories, he manages to catch you chatting to the kids, “Yes Annie's dad Mat-” You pause and catch yourself before you slip, flicking your head up and making brief eye contact with Matty. “Mr. Healy brought us all cake! Let's all sit in our seats and get ready to say thank you like we practised!”

Matty's face briefly scrunched in confusion, but you did nothing to answer his silent question, only shooting him a sweet smile and spinning around to walk to the front of the room. The combination of the cheeky smile and the way your dress moved as you spun had Matty's brain stuttering through his thoughts.

Annie was still chattering along, completely oblivious to her dad being completely enamoured with the woman in front of him. She soon saw her classmates all in their seats and was wriggling out of her dad's arms, trying to join her friends.

Matty comes to join you at the front of the room, fighting every urge in his body to wrap you up in a hug. He wants nothing more than to grab you by the waist and pull you in, burying his face into your neck and breathing in the vaguely sweet smell that follows you around. He thinks about how his other arm would swing around your shoulder and pull you impossibly closer. Your arms would come around him, and he would feel you hum in enjoyment at the contact.

But he doesn't do that. He simply waves in a way that makes him feel so uncool that he internally cringes. You giggle at his clear discomfort and copy his wave, tilting your head teasingly at him. 

You somehow manage to wrangle your mind back to the task at hand, you clap your hands and grab your classes attention. “Right! Everyone, this is Annie's dad, Mr. Healy!” Matty cringes at you not using his name, loving the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“As you can see, he has been very kind and brought us a cake to share! Can we all say thank you?”

Matty was staring at you, lost in watching you work, but soon the ensemble of small voices wrang out, pulling his attention away from you.

“Thank you, Mr. Healy!!” says the sea of children in front of him, Matty looks out at the crowd, used to the number of people but not quite the age range. He sees a mob of gappy teeth and excited faces and can't help but mirror them.

“Wow! You guys are welcome! I hope you all like it. It's already cut up... sooo-” he looks over to you for further instruction, and you snap back into teacher mode quickly.

“Okay! Everyone, can we all line up in register order for our cake?” Some groans come from the crowd, but you quickly catch them, “and don't worry if you're near the end. There is enough cake for everyone! I promise.” You smile and wave your hand, and soon enough, each child falls into line, all bubbling with anticipation.

//////////

Quiet music plays through the classroom speakers, and the noise of children chatting and giggling permeates the room. At the front of the room, you are leaning against the desk as Matty stands in front of you with his hands in his pockets.

He stands with joy written all over his face as you continue to laugh at his stories and jokes, the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears in the best way possible. It's so melodic that Matty has the fleeting thought to record it and use it in a track.

“So you used a scooter to get to the smaller stage” you laugh, staring at Matty with an impressed yet questioning look. As he nods, his curls bounce. You briefly get distracted by how perfect they are, but his resonant voice brings you back to earth. 

“An electric scooter, I'm not just furiously pushing myself on a razor scooter in the middle of a concert” Matty corrects, looking faux offended at your forgetfulness. 

“Oh yes, sorry and electric scooter, of course.” You say nodding, “I don't suppose there's any video of this that I can see? I think I need to witness it.” You smile at him.

Matty pauses briefly, weighing up and showing you the video. On one hand, he can get closer to you to show his phone but on the other, you get to see a mildly embarrassing video of him whizzing away to the sound of “Vroom Vroom” by Charli xcx. 

You take his silence as offence and quickly start stuttering apologies, “Oh I'm sorry if that's too personal, you don't have to show me. I was just-” Before you talk so much it makes you dizzy, Matty cuts in. 

“Oh no don't worry love,” the nickname slips out without a second thought, Matty doesn't even consider it but you are sure you'll be thinking of his voice saying that on repeat for the next week, “I was just thinking how embarrassing this is going to be, but you're right. You do need to see it. Just promise me you won't think less of me, yeah?”

He makes intense eye contact as finishes, and you can't help but blurt out what you think of immediately, “I could never think less of you.”

A silent beat passes, and Matty doesn't say anything, just bashfully smiles and grabs his phone.

//////

Too soon for your liking, 3 pm comes, and it's almost time to leave, but before everyone goes, you have one more thing to do.

“Okay I have to play teacher now, sorry,” you say to Matty, standing up. He nods and steps back, letting you get everyone's attention and speak.

“It's almost time for our mummies and daddies to pick us up, so let's all do one last thing before we go today. As you all know, it's Annie's birthday,” Matty watches his daughter's eyes light up at being mentioned, “so let's all sing her happy birthday!”

You count them in, and the class starts singing to Annie, you and Matty included. Matty watches you sing for his daughter, pure joy on your face and a grin that makes his knees weaken.

The song ends, and everyone claps, just in time for the bell to ring, and you send them off. “Okay everyone that's the bell! Go grab your stuff and meet your mums and dads in the playground, Mrs Richards will be out there to help you find them if you need it!”

You wave each of them out until it's just you, Matty and Annie in the room. You spin around and bend down to her level, “Did you have a good birthday sweetheart?”

Her toothy grin comes out again, and she nods furiously, “Especially because my daddy came in, that was really fun” she says, looking up at Matty and grabbing his hand.

“I had so much fun too, sweetheart! Let's get going though, yeah? You've got Grandad and nanny at home waiting to see you!!” Matty says to his daughter, who immediately starts dragging him away and saying bye to you.

You laugh and wave them off, “bye Annie!!” You say excitedly. You make a point of lifting your eyes and meeting Matty’s.

“Bye Matty” you say softly, waving at him the same way he greeted you earlier.

He simply grins and waves back before returning his attention back to his daughter and continuing to be dragged away.

blurb masterlist here!!

[leixo-demo]

hello i am a different guy and i am very abnormal about spyke and gnarly eddy. i think they'd be buds. pals if you wish. if you're taking requestd still ofc

howdy very abnormal guy about spyke and eddy, have comic about spyke and eddy

+ SOME SKETCHES I MADE

[hexavexen]

In the end, it still hurts, doesn't it? And that pain is a reminder that you're alive. Would you rather feel the pain or let it cease to exist, same as yourself?

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

MEDITATION EVENT: END.

START ---- LAST

[katsu28]

Ok here are some soft Remus thoughts!

- I just cannot stop thinking about how he definitely has a wonderful sweater collection and they’re all so soft and cozy and he loves seeing you wearing them (this could get smutty lmao but I’ll restrain myself)

- you know that one Taylor swift lyric “just living room dancing and kitchen table bills”? That’s the perfect way to describe your relationship with Remus, like maybe your apartment is a little shitty but it’s home and the two of you make it so cozy and you have a wonderful little life together and just putting on a record while you make dinner and you end up dancing together in the kitchen and maybe your food gets a little burnt but that doesn’t matter

- imagine babysitter baby Harry together omg just Remus holding the tiny little baby and singing to him when he can’t fall asleep and making him laugh that cute little baby laugh and every time you watch Harry you can’t help but think about actually having a baby with Remus because he’s so perfect and him with a baby is just too wonderful

I have more if you’d be interested, I just don’t want to go overboard hahahahha 🥰😚

i would adore more remus thoughts, pls send me everything you've got <3 this applies to everyone btw i need more brainrot food

domestic remus thoughts under the cut!

- the sweater collection is absolutely off the charts! drawers and drawers of the softest sweaters ever and even more stashed in different parts of the apartment for when he or you need it. some of them are solid colors, some of them have fun little patterns, but all of them are equally as comfy bc they're his and they smell like him and every time you put one on it's like being enveloped by him even when he's not there and it's the best thing in the world.

sometimes he'll be looking for one specific sweater to wear but he just can't find it no matter how hard he looks and he's just like have you seen my green one love? i think i might've lost it. but then he looks at you at you're wearing exactly what he was looking for and he just. melts. because he loves you and because you look so cozy and comfy and cute in it and he's just like oh ☺️ you can keep it i'll grab another one ☺️ and then he comes and sits with you for the rest of the morning.

- your life with remus isn't what some people might call perfect but it's just the right fit for the two of you! your apartment is a little cluttered and the paint is chipped and yeah maybe the front door gets jammed sometimes but it's your home and you couldn't love it more. you try your best to eat dinner together and unwind from your respective days with each other and most of the time that means a bottle of cheap wine and whatever dinner you can scrounge up from what you've got on hand. sometimes you do a puzzle together, other nights you'll talk for hours, and sometimes you both just sit and do your own things in the same space (parallel play LMAO). remus always makes sure to press a kiss to whatever part of you he can reach every so often just so you know he's still there. post full moon nights are fairly quiet though. remus just wants to sleep and you let him. sometimes he wants to be alone and you let him do that too, but he knows you're right there if he needs you <3

- babysitting harry is such an ordeal, especially the first time bc i feel like it might be a spur of the moment thing? james and lily desperately need a day to themselves and sirius is out of town and euphemia and fleamont are also busy so they're like surprise you get to watch harry for the day! obv you're not gonna turn them down and at first it's awkward bc you're both just staring at harry in his little baby buggy and he's staring back at you and neither of you really know how to take care of a baby?? but then harry starts crying and it's like a flip inside remus switches. he's just like yeah i think he's tired but then little harry refuses to go to sleep and remus starts humming a song and you see him start to drift off as remus bounces him in his arms gently.

when harry wakes up uncle moony is his new favorite person so they're inseparable for the day. at one point harry bumps his head on the couch or something while he's crawling around the living room and you can both tell he's about to start bawling but remus is so quick on his feet and picks him up and does something funny so harry gets distracted and suddenly he's shaking with peals of that infectious baby laughter and you're just like what. what is this i'm feeling is this baby fever??? and you can't stop thinking about having a little remus or yourself running around the place one day. obv you've got some talking about it to do since you haven't even discussed kids yet, you don't even know if remus would want kids with everything he's had to deal with his whole life but it's worth a shot right? to have someone who's a perfect mix of you and your favorite person in the world, to be able to raise them into someone who could quite possibly change the world, even to just have someone else to love more than you love yourself.

[apprentice-s]

uhhh umm uhh knight au klance?? if perhaps you are feeling so inclined 👉👈

galtean klance knight!keith prince!lance 700k mutual pining enemies to lovers slowburn secret relationship

[ontosgold]

I LOVE the way you drew ryomina they are soooo 🥺💖🥰🥺🥺🥰🥰🥺🥺💖💖

Curious, I would love to know if you have more personal headcanons for them! I love your art of Minato wearing glasses

Good luck in uni!!!! Hope you have an amazing day/night ^^

THANK YOU ANON :D !!!!!

and yes I have a few more hcs !! thanks for asking hehe now i get to ramble >:)

I have some hcs regarding fashion and such !! I've kinda been thinking about this a bunch ever since I made those casual outfits for ryoji

-ryoji loves expressing himself through fashion, he really enjoys experimenting with clothes and discovering his style

-he likes going on shopping outings with yukari (minato has been dragged along a lot as well) (yukamitsu ryomina double shopping dates !!)

-ryoji's a big fan of yellow and also just any bright colours that go well with it. he's a bright and colourful boy :>

-minato never really cared much about fashion or style, a t-shirt is usually just good enough for him (his style is just. if its comfy and it looks nice then its good) and he's not a fan of bright colours or anything that makes him stand out too much. ryoji's been trying to get him to experiment a bit

and here's some of my more general hcs for them ^_^

-ryoji's a lot quieter when its just him and minato and minato smiles more around ryoji (minato is completely unaware of how much he smiles in ryojis presence and he'll get a lil embarrassed if someone points it out)

-minato's sleepy and tired all of the time. chronically sleepy (<- lol). god's sleepiest soldier. but he feels super comfortable having naps around ryoji. sleeping when he's nearby just feels safe.

-if ryoji and minato are hanging out at the dorm together, there is a fairly high chance that minato will end up asleep.

-also i like to imagine that if the two of them have a movie night at the dorm, they'll both end up asleep by the end with koromaru all cosied up with them too (<- i should draw this sometime)

-minato's super introverted. while he loves spending time around the ppl he cares about, he only has so much energy for socialising. ryoji is the one person minato can spend all his day around without draining the social battery

-also minato's a pretty quiet guy, he's a man of little words. he prefers to listen to people, rather than be the one leading the conversation. and bcs ryoji and mina know eachother like they know themselves, they don't always need to communicate verbally. I like to think they spend a lot of their time sitting in comfortable silence together

-ryoji's super fascinated and interested by all the simple joys in life. whenever he's out with minato he'll point out things like pretty flowers, birds, the way the clouds look. and they'll stop to admire the sunset if they're out late. and of course minato takes a lot of interest in the things ryoji points out to him :>

also i hc ryoji as bi and minato as greyromantic ace ^_^ !! ryoji and minato's relationship is something so much more than a typical romantic relationship to me

[thekidsarentalright]

in honor of the rpf poll, what are you favorite p2 fics?

omg so exciting to be asked this, off the top of my head these are some of my most favs!!:

- the antidote to everything (except for me) by snitchesandtalkers (22k)

- itchin’ on a photograph by emeraldcitydowntowngirl (1k)

- according to your heart (it’s our time now) by fanatic_by_definition (31k)

- you’re the culmination of everything i’ve never had by earlgreytea68 (81k)

- don’t dare stop by intocooperstown (1k)

- flowers on the floor by emeraldcitydowntowngirl (3k)

- my heart is buried with you by spirallingstarcases (12k)

- when pete falls in love by forbiddentoast (2k)

- husband on the payroll by das_verlorene_kind (108k) (probably my #1 fav in this list tbh)

- the sunshine of my lifetime by auralcosm (2.5k)

[snakeningel]

Heard you wanted Dracula prompts? how about: Seward suitor squad sandwich. That's it, that's what I've got. Feel free to run with it if you're so inspired.

bet.

Arthur Holmwood's Diary, Written in by Quincey P. Morris, October 14th

The sun isn't up yet, so I'll take this time to write. Journalling ain't usually my thing, but some good's gotta come outta this whole vampire mess, and I'm certainly not gonna lose this memory to time or whatever meets us in Varna. Art — if you're reading this, I hope you don't mind I nicked that journal of yours. I don't have one of my own, and I know you well enough that I'm sure you'd want a record of last night too.

The three of us have been through a lot. Probably more adventures than those folks who call themselves blood brothers. We know everything about each other. Art, I know you like to gussy up your animals when you're too worried to think straight, and I've heard that I cling to people when I'm dead asleep. So I don't know why Jack thought we didn't notice him shivering up a storm in that bunk of his. He's always the first one to feel the chill, but Lord forbid the man actually open his mouth to say something about it. Art told me it was something about medical school and blood pressure that got Jack to seal his lips? Some theory about womenfolk being more susceptible to the chill, I think. Now the man would rather let his skin go blue than admit that he needs some warm bodies by his side. But it's not like anyone in this group of ours is inclined to judge anything, and at the very least, Art and I already knew about what the doctor didn't want people to suspect. Mina was even snuggled up, happy as a clam with that husband of hers. The two of them made for such a pretty picture, and I can't think why Jack was so against being like them, all warm and comfortable-like. It's not like he would ever get mad at me though, so I went and cozied up with our darling doctor. That wasn't entirely altruistic on my part. A warm body can help stave off the cold, but the presence of a true, dear friend is more than needed to fight off that darkness that we see ahead. I told Jack as much. The man won't take handouts, but he'd do anything to help his own. He's got a heart as pure as gold beneath all that gloom; besides the professor of his, I can think of no better shepherd of the sick. He held himself stiffly for the first few moments, but soon enough he was melted to my chest like a frozen cold kitten scooped up off of the ground. Art, of course, was not one to be left out, and he was bright enough to see our doctor begin to flush and think of propriety. With the smarts of the hunter he is, he strolled over and laid himself down across our laps, all cat that got the canary like. Jack certainly wasn't going to stand up and cause our lordling to topple to the floor, so the poor lad was trapped between our affections. The darling thinks himself subtle, but both Art and I are sharp enough to notice the relieved smile that curled at the edges of his pretty lips. Even without the threat of someone standing up, Art's position was far too precarious for my liking. So I tugged the two of them back with me, arranging us all on the bed more comfortably than how we had been perching on the edge. It's sweet how Jack flushes whenever I haul him around, but I wasn't inclined to embarrass him further, so I didn't say much to that effect. The three of us have bunked in worse places than a traincar that's just a tad too cold, so we settled quickly enough into a position that's comfortable for all of us. Just as I like to cling with my dear ones in my arms, Jack likes to feel the weight of something solid on both sides of him; spending too long in the realm of the mind probably leaves him needing a reminder of what is solid and real. Art, of course, managed to take up more space than we thought possible, stretching across the two of us like he was making his claim. There was a moment of silent peace, all of us understanding each other without a word shared. But our doctor couldn't stop his buzzing brain, and soon enough he opened his mouth to speak.

"What if-"

It doesn't take the brightest mind to figure out that he was going to let himself discuss only the worst possibilities, so with all the grace that I could never muster, Art rumbled out the sweetest, laziest whine into Jack's chest. That was enough to stop that train of thought in its tracks. The claim that Art holds over our Jack's heartstrings is nothing short of impressive, but they've had decades to grow fond of each other, I suppose. Still, such an efficient shutdown of Jack's overthinking ways did tickle me, so I suppose a chuckle escaped my mouth. Again, our doctor goes red, though I suppose the rumble of my chest against his face sparked some other, better thoughts in his head. I wish he knew that he need only ask, and both Art and I would be happy to do whatever he wished to him. But this isn't time to push; perhaps after we come back from this latest adventure of ours, we'll sit our boy down to run another gauntlet of proposals.

But I'm not keen thinking too far into an uncertain future. There's no point until the evil we're hunting is cold and scattered on the wind. At some point, the warmth and comfort lulled us to sleep; I couldn't tell who went first into that land of rest, but as with all things, those of us left behind wasted no time to follow. That's where Art and Jack still are now, finally getting the rest and comfort we've all been neglecting of late. The train is still rolling along to our destination, and no matter what we face in Varna, I am happy to know that this moment will not slip into the oft-forgotten past. The two of them don't look like they will be stirring anytime soon, so I suppose I will return and join them for as long as they will have me.

[sukunasun]

Thinking about how Geto was only going to ask that chubby reader out so Mahito wouldn’t get the chance to fuck with her, only for her to find out about it after really hitting it off with Geto… ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᵉᵘᵖ ˢᵉˣ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒᶦⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʷᶦᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵉᶜᵒⁿᵒᵐʸ

read the prologue here!

when geto makes those first steps towards you, walking into your light and seeing for the first time a woman who's unlike any other, he doesn't feel like he could say the same things. doesn't whisper all the dirty things he wants to do you or the empty promises he won't keep. doesn't make you swoon and flatter you like he does with everyone else because ultimately it wouldn't work. you weren't that kind of girl, and he shouldn't treat you as such. or rather he can't.

and he believes himself to be the lesser evil here, that he does it to protect you from impending heartbreak but won't admit there's a selfish inkling in him. no matter the reasons he tells himself, the excuses that ease his conscience, he knows he does this because no one else can have you. 

pictures you with another man and feels an unease stirring, a jealous thing prickling all over. with mahito scheming his way into your heart. or maybe with gojo who'd make you laugh and buy you pretty things. either way, he knows they'd be better choices because they possess a whole lot more self-control to definitely last longer than a week before falling in love. whereas geto’s already having expectations, yearns to leap straight into your depths, diving deep the moment he comes close.

you’re ethereal, godly, a beauty that is untouched. all full curves and eyes so honest, you don't try to hide it. a keening gaze peeking under glittering makeup. one that looks through to him. a face so visually stimulating, so incredibly stunning is he—wandering over the line of his nose coming down to a fine point, the bridge resting between trimmed eyebrows. loose strands of hair falling over his face, you itch to brush it aside, to feel just how soft it is. all that beer in his system making him bloom red, it lingers on his neck, on collarbones peeking underneath a muscle tee, hollowed and arched. calling out for you leave a mark there, darkening maroon over his pink flush.

you’re aware that he was speaking, aimed at you. stop staring, you know his name, call him geto—"wow, you're really tall–" is what you utter instead. a second later, your skin heats from embarrassment at your own lack of manners. "i'm s-sorry, i didn't mean to be rude." so caught up in him you don't notice when you're about to slip, tripping over heels that barely give you any height compared to him.

with his stature towering over you, his hands come up to steady you in an instant. “i got you,” he says, and it sends your heart racing because he’s so close, your noses almost touching, his lips less than an inch away from yours. you've seen them smirking, smiling, parted around the laughs that rise from his belly, bright teeth lighting up a face that's hard to resist, the same face that stole your heart tonight, the very moment he locked eyes with you, and you didn't think it was possible to fall any harder. 

you hide your face behind your drink, biting your lip over a woozy smile but it only adds to that growing attraction he feels, how endearing you were that he’s blushing. actually blushing. when has he ever felt this need to be protective, possessive over a complete stranger? 

he's always been able tell a person's motives, wishing for his affection and attention just until the high wears off, until the adrenaline dies down and they're coming to their senses. realization hits the morning after and it's blinding. so revealing in broad daylight—the stench of cigarettes in the air, his body aching with something sickly, guilt drooping his shoulders and regret pouring down the lining of his lungs like syrupy black treacle. caught in heavy sighs, in his pounding head, in a clenching chest when they say something along the lines of "that was fun, but i'm not looking for anything serious right now"—living happily ever after will never be on his cards and you were going to see it the same way eventually. reminds himself he's not meant to have women like you, who wear angel costumes, who thinks this was the start of something special, that you’re meeting the love of your life and believes him to be worthy of it. 

——————————————————

so geto falls for you after three dates.

well, he never called them dates. just took you to random places he'd thought you'd enjoy and he wanted to keep doing it—the first one had to be a classic; a movie then dinner afterwards, he chose to watch an animated film because he can't be bothered pretending to like something pretentious, then an afternoon at a cafe but the kind that serves good food and isn't just an instagram trap, and last week he made you a playlist, one that he titled after your name and had you listening to it in his car on a loop—by the time the fourth one arrives, he invites you over to his place. 

a black cabin that's modern and sleek, he tells you he enjoys the seclusion and calls it his little utopia in the woods. he's balanced the wooden accents with warm lights and giant glass windows that bathes the room in natural sunlight, some furs for his bed compliment the woven rugs, and he's left his books all over the floors, opened and laid flat on its pages, a sweater or two on the couch, there are empty beer cans lining the countertop, and in the corner, his guitar lays dormant on its back. “sorry for the mess,” geto calls from the kitchen, already preparing you a cup of tea. but you think it just looks like a place that’s lived in. it’s his home. 

plus there's a pool. the kind that has a built in jacuzzi and the water flows over the edge to give the appearance of it extending to the horizon. looking out, you take in the view of mountains lined with silver moonlight, blue and green reflecting of the surface, dark blacks in the shadows and jagged edges, trees rooted tall and mingling with fog. the cicadas are chirping and city lights dance in the distance, far away. there are a millions stars shining above tonight but you only want to watch him, lazing around in the blue.

geto dips below once before his head crests over the surface, coming up for air and propping his feet at the very bottom. it's deep, but the water only comes up to his sternum. it ripples beneath his large hands as he brings them up to slick his hair back. “the water’s nice, you should join me,” he says, coming closer towards you with slow, measured steps, wading through with ease. a playful glint in his eye warns you of the night to come and you feel that familiar heat dipping low. thinking of the nasty things that shall ensue, your fantasies coming to life here, in geto’s house, alone, in the middle of nowhere.

knowing where this will possibly lead doesn’t help your nerves, this the defining moment of any relationship, the part where everything becomes official. you'd sleep with him tonight because geto's the kind of person who teases, makes you stutter over your words, pinches your cheeks and calls you beautiful when you know that's hardly ever the case. but every time he looks at you, trailing behind your every step, worshipping the ground you walk on, it’s obvious he cares for you. there was no way he wouldn't put you first and make you come til you saw stars.

but you shake your head in protest, curling in towards yourself and trying to look anywhere besides his half naked form. reduced to staring at your legs dangling from where you sit, gently kicking underwater. when he’s meeting you at the edge of the pool, he brings your knees apart, keeping your legs locked behind him before placing his palms flat by your sides, tilting his head to meet your eyes, “what’s the matter, do you feel shy?” he asks, a smirk breaking over his face. 

your chest rise and falls with bated breath. spotting the drops sliding down his face in rivulets, caught in his eyelashes, clear and reflecting off the pool lights below. dripping from his chin, it runs down his broad chest and his scent alone is intoxicating. smelling of chlorine and something crisp, wet. like drenched earth soaked by a beautiful, luminous, magnetic rain after a long drought. dry juniper berry, patchouli, green leaves and moss. you wish to say yes, because he really does make you shy and aroused and impulsive and all these feelings you can’t control. “i'm sorry but we can’t have sex tonight–” you blurt out.

a confused look crosses his face, "who said anything about sex?"

"isn't that why you invited me over?" you ask in return, giving him the same puzzled look. one that turns more flustered as the realization dawns on you. had this been a one-sided thing all along? took one look at your body as it is now without the snug shapewear or the pretty fabrics and felt mortified, all your curves on display, squishy thighs and your tummy folds pressed up against his abdomen. you're surprised you ever thought this night was meant to be more than what it was; just time spent with him, in this undefined thing you can’t put a name to. 

geto breathes a heavy sigh and cups your face in his hands, looks right into your eyes so you know he means it, "i brought you out here because i like being around you and i like being with you. you don't have to do anything you don't want to," he clarifies, serious but gentle. 

it doesn't do much in assuring you. "but i want to be yours,” you admit, albeit softly but he hears the dejection, "and how would i know you're mine? that you aren't seeing someone else."

in the the silence that follows, his thumbs slowly caress over your cheeks squished between his palms. anything to wipe the sad look off your face. "i've been yours all along." he whispers, thinks he couldn’t be more obvious. you’re in his old t-shirt that bears his scent, now it rubs off on you. spilled over your body so you tied a knot at the side, tightening it around your breasts, nipples peeking through from the cold. it stirs that same greedy, selfish feeling within him—the image of you in his clothing, those thoughts of sleeping with him swimming in your head, he wants to hear them—there was no way he'd think of being with anyone else, let alone sleep with them, not when you existed. not when he spends every sleeping and waking hour dreaming of you. 

he wouldn’t fuck you for his own self-indulgence, he’d want to do it right. all on your own time, your own terms. pin your hands over your head and make love to you, slowly rutting over and over until you begged him to stop. he'd make you feel so beautiful that you wouldn't need to question it ever again. not to mention that he'd already plan to cook you breakfast in the morning should you decide to stay the night, left your favourite snacks in his fridge, brought in fruits from the farmers market for you. "will you be mine?" he whispers to you, and only you.

a simple nod was your answer, hands coming up to wrap around his neck and you lay a kiss right above his adam’s apple, sealing the deal. 

——————————————————

the first time was a revelation, how he realized halfway as he's thrusting into you that he owns you. and he fucks you like he knows it.

you had been so skittish, so hesitant. shy smiles and turning your face away every time he'd get so far as to leave a kiss on your forehead, squeeze your thigh as he takes you on a night drive. you resisted but he felt the heat and the rising goosebumps on your skin, heard you shuddering and stifling your moans, biting into your lip. you're absolutely hooked and he'd only stay patient as he unravels you bit by bit.

until the day comes when you're waking him up in the middle of the night straddling him, grinding your panties over his tightening boxers, over the bulge that forms. his cock hardening as he stirs awake to the sight of your sweet pussy, so wet and needy for it, leaking through the fabric and staining his, trying to get as much of him inside you. your trembling legs can't keep yourself up for long as you rock back and forth, already desperate to rest on his chest and succumb to him, having him pound into you and you’ll take it like the good girl he believes you to be. "i want you to touch me," you pout at him, voice wavering and uncertain, a little hoarse from having just woken up, unsurprisingly, from a wet dream. one starring the man below you who's struggling to keep his composure. oh he's ruined you and he knows it, swears then and there that he'd give you more than just his touches, wonders what he'd ever done to wake up to this; a new side he's pulled out of you, coming to the surface just for him. 

the doubt in your eyes wounds him, preposterous is the thought that you weren’t enough, that you didn’t deserve him when he’s a man who’s selfish and perverted and he takes and takes from you, like he's defiled and made you into a horny little thing. he should thank every god and deity for being in your presence, that he gets to taste your skin and kiss your lips, hear your moans singing out for him and it kills him. with sweat beading on his forehead, he uses every fiber of his being to hold it out. constantly feels like he's on the edge, like a rubber band about to snap in an instant because you're gripping him so tight, squeezing down every time he pushes in but it's only because you love it so much. makes you feel so full and stretched out and no one has ever gotten this far with you, no one had ever wanted the chubby girl who kept her nose in her books, always the biggest person in every room, never going after the guys she liked for fear of rejection. what had he seen in you at that party, you'll never know, but geto suguru chose you and it's all you ever need, it's why you keep looking up at him like he's hung the moon and stars for you. where all you feel is his pounding heart beneath your fingers, the words he snarls into your skin as he grinds and bucks his hips. he's going to break you. absolutely wreck you.

geto had expected to feel guilty about it, that he wouldn't be able to follow through, yet every time he breathes in your scent, hears his name leave your lips, feels the way you’re clawing into his back, fingernails etching in lines over his tattooed skin, the beautiful, pure, almost unearthly thing that you are makes his cock weep with the need to claim you fully, to worship your body, live inside you. that would be heavenly, to always be buried inside his angel and say fuck you to the world, he’d only need this, now and forever. 

and he can't begin to tell you any of it. like he's going to lose his mind if he gives in, his entire world now found in your pleading face, your soft voice, "i'd do anything for you," you beg and he sees the hearts floating in your eyes, admiring him, fawning and adoring. "you're so beautiful, you're so perfect," you cry out, swollen lips forming around the words. tear stained cheeks puffing out, rounded hands, smooth and soft trailing down his neck, goosebumps rising to meet your fingertips. leaving behind these trails that burn his skin, settling deep in his bones like a balm, these soothing, healing touches that make him groan and whine like a wounded animal from how good it feels, how he's been longing for it so much that he doesn't want it to end, forget about wishing or hoping, he'd put the work in and beg for it. and he wants to so bad. wants to love you with everything he's got.

——————————————————

the night of his birthday party rolls around and despite wanting a quiet night in, geto’s unable to escape the onslaught of questions about it.

so he sends out invites via text, quick fingers tapping away, a swooshing sound dings, it reads: ‘party at 8, byo drinks’. all to people he isn’t close to nor would he care if they’d showed up. this way, there wouldn’t be a clash of interests, doesn’t like mixing his circles of peers for that very reason because it would be like sending you into a lion’s den. these are not the kind of people who would be friends with you and he would know this because all anyone wants to do is get distracted with the superficial. plus, he used to be one of them too. ‘used to' being the keyword. past tense. but he’s yet to actually be rid of them. 

still, you make your way over to his place to surprise him because that's what any loving person would do. simmering with excitement, you find geto by the pool, the one with the jacuzzi and the beautiful view, the one that's too deep for you, the one that held the memories of the first night spent with him. moving a little closer to where he's lounging on a deck chair, you keep out of geto’s sight. 

among the crowd, you don’t recognize every face but mahito’s is hard to miss. it’s pretty, the kind that reminds you of idol singers and fashion models. but looking into his eyes from afar, you see no sign of emotion, glazed over with pure apathy. always hiding in dark corners and whispering in people’s ears, disguising his unsolicited, wicked comments behind a cheery voice. “i didn’t think you’d show up,” he says innocently, or rather what he believes sounds innocent when you can read through the sly expression on his face.

you cross your arms, keeping your narrowed eyes on him. “of course i’d be here, i’m his girlfriend.” you reply. at the sound of your voice, geto shoots up from his seat immediately, eyes widening and his face taking on a flush that clearly said he hadn’t expect your arrival.

mahito brings a hand up to geto’s shoulder, pulling him closer whilst scanning your figure head to toe. he smirks, sipping his drink. how sweet. calling yourself 'his girlfriend' seemed like the kind of thing you would do, as if you were still a teen and that these labels meant something. out of all the types of women he’d like, you were his favourite. pure of heart, always so willing to believe in love and the fantasy of it. he could see why geto wanted to keep you all to himself and he doesn’t ignore this fact, instead, he thinks he should do something with it, messing with your feelings just because he can. “you know it was all a bet right? he only asked you out because i told him to,” he says, a smug look appearing on his face. 

initially, he'd forgotten about the whole thing, which isn't surprising because nothing peaks his interest for long. wasn't actually going to act upon whatever bullshit he was spouting to geto that night because it was all in good fun, to plant the seeds of disillusionment in him because he's always been an easy target. it's his fault really for having you as a weakness. mahito continues to relay his conversation with geto that night. gives you a wide smile throughout as if he's actually enjoying the way your face drops, resolve crumbling the more he goes on. geto on the other hand stays exactly where he is. doesn’t fight back or tries to deny it and mahito relishes at how powerless he is, what a coward, the man can’t even say it with his own words. 

you don’t look away from geto, hoping that he’d say something to dispute these claims. where was he, where was the man you love. “he wouldn’t do that, he cares about me,” you defend him, because the man mahito speaks of is not at all like the geto suguru you know.

“are you sure about that?” mahito questions and your heart sinks. of course you were sure, although you didn't know anymore. doubts igniting and spreading through you like a wildfire. uncontrolled, consuming any belief and assumption you had about geto all at once. 

your plan to surprise him on his birthday—spent hours imagining all the ways it’d be perfect, show up in a dress you made knowing he’d like it and he could touch as much as he wanted, smell that expensive perfume on your neck, you’d kiss his cheek and leave the sparkly gloss behind, you’d make him dread it a little less, make his wishes come true—all of it flushed down the drain with just five words. 

with eyes dart back and forth between the both of them, you plead, "please tell me it isn't true," on the verge of tears, you bite the inside of your lip to keep from welling up. 

“it’s not what you think,” geto finally speaks but he doesn't have the guts to look at you, and you see the guilt plastered across his face, paralyzing his body and keeping it rooted there. not only proving mahito speaks the truth but that your entire relationship had been a lie.

“i’m really sorry you had to find out this way, but let’s be honest—” mahito laments, walking over to where you stand and you don't feel a semblance of warmth when he leans close to your ear, humming at your obvious discomfort, and whispers “—he was never going to fall for you.”

in a split second, a jarring flash of red splatters everywhere. there's a loud gasp from the crowd, then a scream. as the music starts to muffle in your ears, every guest clambers towards the scene, wanting to get every bit of the action. 

geto snaps and all hell breaks loose. mahito is raised from where he lies flat on his back, collar fisted in geto's grip. blow after blow, he repeatedly throws punches til he feels something give under the brute force of his knuckles, splitting flesh and clashing against bone. every impact bringing a thudding sound along with it. there are lines of hot blood running down mahito's face, pooling in his mouth, in between his teeth when he gives geto a sinister grin before he passes out on the cold ground.

——————————————————

the family mart down the street is heaven on earth on nights like these.

steam puffs from the aluminium lid of the instant ramen set before you and despite your efforts in keeping it completely sealed, the sides pop out anyway. still, you take in the smell of spicy broth and vegetable flakes, in just a few minutes you'll be greeted with the taste of salty, peppery goodness, chewing on thick strands of noodles and fine cuts of donko mushroom. always consistent, it'll never disappoint. and it's the only comfort you get tonight. that and the burning heat in your fingertips when you hold on to it tight, hoping it'll soothe the ache a little. the fluorescent lights are too bright, emitting this white light that does nothing to hide the hot tears that drip, your sniffling nose, and the smudged makeup. all of it coming undone.

you catch your reflection in window and realize that you look every bit a woman in distress, definitely pitiful and pathetic, but ultimately like someone who's heartbroken. even more so when the kid working the cash register keeps looking over at you with a worried expression on his face. 'TOGE', as his name tag reads, works by the front, he stirs fishcakes in the boiling oden and arranges the onigiri in the freezer while the two other staff members are pretending to stock biscuits behind you. they’re not the best at being discreet.

everything sucks and everything hurts. but at least the noodles are done. 

“you’re going to burn your fingers,” a hand reaches out to grab yours and the first thing you see are his knuckles, raw and bleeding. that familiar jolt runs through you and you look up to see geto with blood splatters on his white shirt. instinctually, you reach out to him with your other hand before you could tell yourself to stop, thumb brushing over his wounds with barely any pressure. geto melts into your touch then, brings your clasped hand up to his cheek and closes his eyes, savouring the residual heat from the noodles, your soft flesh upon his, every bit of you he can get.

“you can let go-" you try to pull away—

“no, i won’t,” he snaps. so weak is he to want this, he needs it. could never be like you when no amount of instant ramen or late night snacking would ever comfort him. “i can't," his voice drops to a quiet whisper.

"please, i'll just pretend none of this ever happened." you whisper back. hoping that maybe if you didn’t think about it, it’ll be like it never existed. geto would have just been a blip on on a radar, gone as soon as it came. 

he latches on tighter, “don’t leave me,” he chokes, “you said you’d do anything for me.” your fingertips buzz, going numb in his grasp. he’s clinging for dear life. you’ve never seen him this beaten, still the same man, but one who’s defenseless, desperate because he knows what's coming and he can’t bear it, you’d survive this. come out the other end knowing better, while he’s second guessing if he’d ever go on living a life without you.

“that was before,” you yank it away reluctantly at his words. “and you can’t just throw it back in my face like that, i said it because i loved you and i thought you lov–” you bite your lip and swallowed thickly, that lump in your throat keeps forcing it’s way up, every exhale is forced and it takes so much within you not to sob. he was never going to fall for you. a stray tear falls and it’s hot against your cheek, "just forget it." your voice cracked, hand rising up to wipe over your burning eyes. 

“he was going to hurt you, angel,” your heart almost stops when the name falls on your ears and geto seems to realize it too, “i meant that night at the party–” he explains, “you were dressed as an angel, he was going to ask you out and i couldn’t let it happen.” his voice croaks out like he's accepted defeat. for some time, he thought he’d be able to hide the truth from you forever because you were happy, and so was he. it’d be enough to have you, consequences be damned, he’d only wanted to hold on to it for as long as he could. 

"you made me believe you had feelings for me, that you liked me," you sobbed then, crying openly without a care if a customer walked in, or if they saw you from across the street. the staff is probably watching with shocked, gaping mouths right now, but this was the end and you would let it out. you had to. 

“i did it for you, had you fallen for him, what then?" fuck, he doesn’t want to think about it. looks at you with eyes that are reddened and weary. the pain and exhaustion starts to creep up, his body aching. the remains of adrenaline from the fight wearing off and souring in his bloodstream. the room starts to spin, he has to get to a hospital asap but the last thing he cares about is broken bones or bruises when he's utterly hopeless.

in a last attempt to salvage the situation, he reaches out towards you. it can't end like this, not in a convenience store, not on his birthday, not when everything is unfinished and unspoken and left to be buried down. he'll explain it all. who cares about the bet, he knows his feelings were real. he has to tell you how he feels, now or never.

but you flinch from his hold, swatting his hand away. "i’m perfectly capable of making my own choices, so you don't have to worry about me anymore," you say, stern and with finality. turning away from him and walking out. leaving him and the overcooked noodles behind.

——————————————————

"i didn't think you had it in you," is the first thing shoko says during the last ten minutes of his birthday. they're both leaning against the hood of her car in a hospital car park after she’s dressed his wounds. barely felt any semblance of pity for him the way she rolled her eyes before stretching her gloves on and doing what she does best.

"yeah, well, he saw it coming," geto shrugs dismissively, flips open a pack of menthols and offers it to her like old times. only one though because these were expensive—he thinks he’s been charged extra for them after causing such a scene ( ‘TOGE’ who works the cash register apparently has little patience for terrible men who make their girlfriends cry)—and also because shoko’s a doctor, they aren’t meant to consume these things and get away with it. 

the air smells like a heady mix of disinfectant and tobacco. she takes a long drag, then exhales smoke, flicking off ash gathered at the end. "i would understand breaking his nose, but did you really have to give him a concussion?" her lips quirk up at the corners, thinking back to the last few hours spent stitching an unconscious mahito’s face, staples down his jaw holding skin together. he’d survived, she thinks, although she isn’t a hundred percent sure about it either. for his sake, better if geto doesn’t see him alive and well, shoko doubts it’s last time it’ll ever happen. 

"how was i supposed to know he'd black out," geto doesn’t show any sign of remorse in his expression, no guilt or regret in beating the shit out of him, his intention clear and written all over his face. he wanted that man dead.

annoyed, she clicks her tongue at him, "tsk, you're a real piece of work you know that. why'd you do it?" it would be easier if this had been an accident, shoko has only ever seen him this distressed that one time him and gojo had a fallout. only gets like this when push comes to shove and geto's about to lose the most important thing in his life. which could only mean—

"would you believe me if i said i did it for love?" geto says without any hint of mockery. she looks at him for a second, gauging if he really means it and comes to find him sighing with his entire body, a face reminiscent of his younger self is reflected off the windshields, so lost and unsure. come to think of it, she doesn’t remember a time where he’s ever looked any different in the last few years. 

“fucking hell,” she breathes out, laughing until her shoulders shake. he's unbelievable.

geto smiles and chuckles along with her, “it sure feels like it,” doesn’t mind her unsympathetic bedside manner here knowing he’s made her put up with a lot. he brings his cigarette up, inhales, then blows a final drag out, letting it seep through his parted lips in a steady, flowing stream. the seconds count down to the final minute and geto uses the very last of it to confess, “i fucked up, sho."

shoko nods to show that she's heard him. still, she doesn't ask for the details and she never gets personal. “well, it happens to the best of us. either you move on or you try again i guess.” geto doesn’t need a shoulder to cry on, she’s never been his rock or his partner in crime and it’s not about to start happening now. not when gojo’s still out there being the mopey son of a bitch that he is. if only they just talk about their issues instead of having her stuck between these two and their antics. 

“happy birthday suguru, take care of yourself,” shoko stubs her cigarette on the ground and the last of it’s flame dies out on the asphalt. orange light fading into nothing. 

——————————————————

months later, geto lays out a picnic blanket by the lake. yellow gingham beneath your tucked feet, there are threads fraying on the edges, old and worn but soft to the touch. it compliments the sundress you wear, lilac off the shoulder, you tug at the hem wishing you had chosen something a bit more modest the way it keeps riding up your thighs.

it feels so nice like this, comfortable, content. your lips quirk up as you breathe it all in, hair billowing in the wind, your fingers gently comb them away, sighing when it tickles your skin, the sound of babbling water and the smell of grass accompanies the two of you. it makes being in his presence less awkward after it's been the one thing you were dreading. the fact that you decided to meet him here today was already more than he'd expected given that you had all the right to move on and never speak to him again. 

under the shade of a tree, he watches you the same way he did that night at the halloween party. “you’re beautiful,” he whispers, avid and breathless. "you were then, and you are now—the most beautiful thing i've ever seen.”

in the corner of your eye you see his jaw clench, breath hitching, saying it has never felt this remorseful. “i never wanted to hurt you." he admits and you look to him then, seeing him reach over and gently cup one of your hands in his. the same hands that were broken and bleeding and brutal, now healed and his skin made anew. "i know i made it seemed like it was for your own good but..." he trails off, clenching and unclenching his grasp, rubbing over your knuckles, hand still firm in yours. "i went into it knowing i'd fall for you and i did. i told you i was yours and i meant it, all of it, nothing was an act.

in the distance, a storm starts to brew. and right here, vulnerable and bare, geto rights his wrongs. —"i'm sorry," he says once, then again, and again, until he chokes on the words, until the first drops of rain hit your shoulders and mask his tears but you reach out to cup his face then in a rush, clambering into his lap and you don't hold back, deciding then and there to allow yourself this; the warmth of his embrace, the shape of his body against yours, to accept him fully, to forgive.

you clutch him tightly, fingers going numb but you weren't bothered, if it were up to you, you’d never let him go again. “i choose you geto suguru—you're all i want, my heart is yours, i'm yours," through a hoarse throat, you cry out what you both needed to hear and you kiss him for the first time in months. two lips meeting like parted lovers, earnest, passionate. teeth clashing, breathless and sobbing and with everything you have. tasting like rain and sweet, sweet, absolution.

——————————————————

geto stares at you from where he's sitting on the edge of his bed, toweling his damp hair. as the thunder continues to roll and rumble in the distance, rain pelts against the large window overlooking grey and cloudy skies. lightning strikes through sporadically, lighting up his dim room with flashes. you keep your eyes glued to your feet, completely wet from head to toe, your skin dripping and hair a little frizzy in places. random strands sticking to your cheeks and neck, and within moments, those bits would feel like icicles and so would the smooth wooden floor beneath your feet. 

"c'mere," he demands, but softly, only once. not wanting to hear your protests and your feet move on their own volition, all to the sound of his beck and call. makes those few heavy steps towards him, pitter, patter. anxiously but your body knows he means no harm, that he’s the only man you could give into and he’d only care for you because geto brings you leg up and props it between his thighs then. wraps a hand around your ankle before caressing it there. my ankle, this belongs to me, along with every other part of you. he starts to pat you dry, soft cotton gliding up your shin, up the back of your knee, all while his hand massages your flesh, inching upward toward your thigh then finds his place under your dress, over the curve of your ass. 

“i'll show you just how much i want you," he'll prove it, if not with his words then with his hands. caresses, kneads, then squeezes the soft globe of your ass that fits in the palm of his hand, large and warm against your skin. "how much i desire you–" geto's voice comes out raspy and low, sends your body shivering as his hands start pulling your dress off. peeling it at gradual pace. the hem rising to reveal your soft thighs, you keep them close together, getting shy when he sees in between them, your panties are soaked through. from the rain obviously and not because he has that effect on you. 

you grab onto his shoulders, timidly murmuring "does this count as our first time...officially?" his movements come to a complete halt then, leaning back to look at you with a stern, almost offended look on his face.

geto chose not to answer you, but instead lifts you by the hips and sets you down on his mattress with a little force. a tiny squeal leaves your lips as he pins you there, his knees on either side of you and an impatient, hungry look upon his face. the kind that makes you melt all over as your legs part on their own. the growls rumbling in his chest rings through you and lightning flashes, his greedy hands, fisting, scrunching your dress into a damp, flimsy thing he pulls it down your breasts with little effort. letting them free, the fabric stretches to its limits before being ripped down the middle, unveiling you like a meal he's been craving for. starving. 

he presses his tongue flat against your exposed nipple, lapping softly before bringing it between his lips and suckling gently. “you think i’d let you forget what we did that night?” he taunts, breath blowing against it, your goosebumps rising along with the tension in your belly, a heat coiling when you know exactly what he's hinting at. remembering just how perfect you were that night under him. he’s gripping your hips tight in an almost painful hold and pulls you in closer, “should i remind you?” he grits out and you feel his bulge pressing into your center, hot and throbbing, his blood pulsing through, hips bucking and rubbing himself against you.

in that moment, you reach up, burying your fingers in his hair and pulling him in until his forehead gently settles against yours and geto keeps your gaze. watches your lustful eyes and panting breath, “there’s no need,” you say, “we’ll do it better this time,” you kiss him, slow and lingering, on his lips, then his chin, a peck on the line of his jaw, and finally, over his adam’s apple, sealing the deal, again, and again.   

——————————————————

the rain doesn’t stop, instead, it only gets heavier, coming down with harsh winds by the time he’s flipped you over, placed you flat on your stomach beneath him and murmurs "you're gonna lose your voice," right above your ear, stopping mid-thrust and taking in the dazed expression on your face. reduced to a tipsy, drunk mess, heavy lidded eyes peering up at him. blissful and hypnotised, your mouth parted around breathless moans, babbling and incoherent when all you can think about is the shape of him inside, snug and slick and all yours.

geto reaches over for a bottle of water on the nightstand, one he's placed there knowing he'd need it when he’s always turning into a heated, sweaty mess around you, losing his mind, his stamina extending for hours and hours. would like to think it's because the sex is amazing, that it’s because he's into it more than ever now when previously, all it took was one round to knock him out, make him feel cheap and dirty all over. but that wouldn't be giving you any credit, you do it to him, again and again. nothing makes sex feel better than having a partner who cares about you. 

still buried inside you, every maneuver is felt as he keeps his weight on your back. can't help but shiver and twitch all over when his tip presses in a little more, every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing your walls, brushing against your clit. you’re writhing your hips impatiently, aching for him to move again, pleading for him to start pounding you like he was three orgasms ago.

"shh, i got you angel," he coos. hearing it sets a fire alight within you, heat coiling in your tummy at the sound of him calling you a name he's bound to you. he twists the cap off and brings it to his lips, the condensation drips over your skin and you whine in anticipation when it stings then subsides a second later. he pours it in his mouth without swallowing, keeps it there in the hollows of his cheeks before he leans forward and grips your jaw in his hand, holding it in place with his thumb and index finger, urging for you to open up. and you do, without hesitation. geto's icy cold lips meet yours then so does his tongue, the water that flows from his mouth into yours tastes like a breath of fresh air, crisp and cool. his tongue laps at yours when you gulp it down, it soothes your dry throat. excess running like rivers dribbling along the length of your neck.

when he pulls away, a line of drool trails in between the both of you, he's going back in for another kiss, another bite, addicted to the taste, eating up your lazy whimpers. your tongue chases after him along with your hips when you grind up, ass pushing into him, garbled moans mixed with you begging for him to move faster, thrust harder as you squeeze down on his cock. mewling “please, please, i’ve been good," always asking for it so nicely although he's being this mean, this withholding from you. 

spreading your cheeks apart, he's salivating at the lewd image of you clamping on his cock as he deliberately sinks in and out, coating it in your slick juices while he dribbles a line of spit from his lips down to where you two meet. "fuck, you're so dirty baby," you keen, hearing the sound of your bodies joining, already creaming on it the more he moves.

geto crouches over and you feel his arm lock around your neck in a chokehold. keeping his lips close to your ear, his panting breath blows hot over your skin. wrapped up like this, you feel nothing but his voice, his scent, his body around you. consuming you in a womb of heat and sweat and musk. safe and secure.

“yeah? you know you like it.” he teases, gritting past his teeth as it nips on your helix. voice carrying equal parts of being smug and fond. raises his hips and pulls out to the tip just to hear you whine from the loss before he slams himself back in, meeting your pussy with a loud slap, all the way to the hilt. eyes rolling back when he hits a particular spot inside you.

geto lets out a guttural noise building from his chest, reverberating through you the more he nestles his cock further in, his balls come to rub against your clit and he can't help but ask “you want this dick?” punctuating his words with slow, lazy strokes. his hips start bucking to a casual rhythm, rutting into you while his other hand moves towards your lips, coaxing them apart and pushing past your teeth to run it along your tongue. cold and wet and so indulgent is he that you suck on his fingers then, coating them before he pulls them out with a pop. 

he reaches underneath to where his cock stretches you and slides the pad of his fingers over your clit, loving how it juts out and twitches when you spread your legs wider. strokes it in time with his thrusts then slows down gently, switching between light quick strokes and rubbing slow circles when he hears your moans building up, your insides clenching down on him, waiting and anticipating.

"i want it so bad, please fuck me," you let out breathy moan when his cock pulses inside, releasing dribbles of his pre cum, leaking inside. throwing your head back, you sink your nails into his forearm tucked below your chin for leverage and he hisses at the sting but he earns them, claims them as his own, wants you to leave the evidence there.

raising your ass up, back arching, practically laying flat against the mattress, you’re at his mercy. spread open and dripping all over his sheets but it wouldn’t be the first time you’d left a mess. he makes it so that you leave every bit of your essence here. that when he washes them the next day, it's like a reward, he'd see the aftermath of it and knows he'd done it to you, and he'll do it all over again. 

without any warning, he starts to thrusts frantically, the motion of his hips slamming down with need, finally giving in with desperate, fervent madness. nothing able to quell the pounding he sought to deliver as though he were even remotely in control when he’s turning into a mess again, stuttering and uneven thrusts carrying you through. moans growing louder as your body is consumed by him, his chest on your back, feeling the pulse beneath and the way his heart races. he was close.

your asscheeks smack against his hips, wet sounds echoing, so loud and lewd and your moans get short, abrupt, no longer hiding them. he curses under his breath. “fuck, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect for me,” there’s an urgency when he says it, driven by your cries, by the tightness. every thrust pulls you higher, tension rising and you come then with a scream, soul brought asunder.

clenching around him and whining his name. tasting so good on your tongue and he chases after your call, grunting into the crook of your neck. fucking you through your release. he wasn’t far behind, hips bucking on their own, he works you through the comedown, slowing his thrusts and grinding his leaking cock inside you. wanting to milk every bit of it out as rope after rope of hot cum spilled into you, filled to the brim. 

heat floods all over and your limbs go limp and laxed, mind turning fuzzy from the pleasure. atop you, he’s just as slack but he doesn’t pull out immediately, not until you’re done writhing and shaking all over. not until you decide to unclench yourself from him. his heavy, measured breaths rise and fall, sweaty chest heaving, and his heart full.

——————————————————

"are you sore?" geto asks from behind, pulling you closer to him in his big bed after using a warm towel to rub you down, gliding over your thighs, the backs of your knees, and over your mound. he wraps you up in him, pulls a comforter over your naked body with furs keeping you warm by your feet. he reminds himself to keep you warm, get more wood for the fireplace in the morning, and make you breakfast, and buy you a new dress just so he can rip it off you again, until then he's never leaving this bed.

"a little," you still feel him every time your legs rub together, an ache in the places his hands have gripped and spanked, and all the little bites he's left are tender to the touch. reminders of just how much he craves you, loves you and this body you live in.

"i'm sorry, maybe i overdid it," his lips brush over the slope of your shoulder, humming softly at you shaking your head no. his heart plays a steady rhythm, lulling you to the edge of sleep. here, it's safe and warm and you feel so damn happy, floating somewhere near heaven, too full of bliss to come back down to earth at the thought of him being with you.

bringing his arms around you closer, you entwine his hand in yours, "it was perfect, i loved it," you assure him, "i love you." you say, eyelids heavy, closing shut before you drift off to sleep, thinking of an entire life stretched out before you, moonlit skin and an edgeless pool and his voice whispering "i love you too."

[qeyond]

Beyond…..dentist…..please…..I am decomposing

"oh the decor? I actually did it all by myself, can you tell? I took a color theory course in college."

The framed photo is actually from his own personal collection! He thought adding the motivational posters and the "rest in peace" would help calm patients. :) He's very proud, please don't be rude.

[onejellyfishplease]

Name guy™️ here!

I just realized that I never officially joined the cult, which will just not do. I bring an offering: three shiny rocks and my undying loyalty to our great lord and saviour mosquitello, long may he reign. 🦟🦟🦟

YOU ARE WELCOMED INTO THE CULT WITH OPEN ARMS!!

[httpiastri]

im new to thirsting over oscar— i usually saw him so soft and now i see him in another light and i was wondering your first time headcanons

god i feel that, i used to only find him super cute but recently... there's something more

also aAah having ur first time with oscar... y e s, headcanons below cut!!

(i interpreted this as your first time ever, not just ur first time with oscar, if i misunderstood you then pls do send me another ask and i'll write a new one!!)

okay sO first off... he would be the sweetest boy from start to finish

when you suggested it to him, he'd be very "!! are you sure? are you really really sure?? because it's fine if you aren't-"

"i'm so sure. i want you to be my first, oscar"

soft soft soft touches

sensual, deep, emotional kisses

he would love kissing down your body, letting his lips explore the new skin

he can't help but to stop and admire your body because he thinks you're so so beautiful

he asks for permission for everything

"can i take these off? can i touch you?"

"does this feel good? is this okay?"

he tries so hard not to make anything sloppy or rushed because he wants it to be perfect for you, but he's just so excited and into it that he can't really help himself

"i never thought you could make such sweet noises"

he asks "are you nervous?", to which you answer "just a little, but i know i'm in good hands", and he just melts

and if you tense up when he fully enters you, he'd stop to place a kiss to your forehead

"breathe, baby. it's all fine, i'm right here."

his eyes would search yours for any sign of pain or if you looked uncomfortable and if he stops instantly if he sees any hint

the sounds he makes !! 😮‍💨😮‍💨

he'd just want to prioritize you and make sure you weren't uncomfortable in any way

"am i going too fast?"

he would take such good care of you

very reassuring, "love, you're doing so well"

and aftercare ofccc

i can really just see him be so gentle, like almost to the point where ur like “🧐 i ain’t made out of porcelain, you don’t have to be that careful”

but he just wants to make sure that you don’t regret it

aaaAaAaAA