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#it's making me very happy rn
becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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becca i can't believe i found your blog again!! i lost it a few months ago and ran into it yesterday <3 i loved reading the recent blurbs and it made me think of subby!bucky being a hardass but when in the bedroom he just wants you to humiliate the shit out of him
I haven't talked about how great subby men are in so long and I've really missed it 🤤 and I'm so glad you've enjoyed catching up on my stuff!!
I love to imagine the way a submissive Bucky lets himself give in to you entirely. If you want him to beg, he'll beg. If you ask him to degrade himself, he'll do that. He gets off on how pathetic he feels and realistically, he gets to the point where he thinks he might do anything just to please you.
And I think he'd adore having you take what you need from him, while almost minimising his pleasure because imagine grinding yourself on him without letting him inside you.
Your sex is so slick with evidence of your arousal and while it would be fun to just touch yourself and make him watch, the throbbing length of his thick erection tempts you. There's no harm in working him up, after all. He whines so much sweeter when he's desperate.
He's got no objections to you placing yourself on top of him. His dick is heavy, leaking precum and you almost consider abandoning your plan in favour of feeling him lose himself in your mouth instead. As delightful as that sounds though, you're desperate for some control and this is how you want to take it.
The first few rolls of your hips help to coat his length with your arousal. The glide gets easier with each pass and very soon you realise you can focus on the pleasure, rather than just the logistics.
The way his dick rubs your clit is heavenly. It's luxurious, almost decadent and nothing inside you feels guilty about being selfish. Not with Bucky's strong hands on your hips guiding your movements.
"You're so wet." He whispers, eyes wide, watching you in wonder. You're so lost in your own pleasure and he lives for it.
"I know." You don't feel embarrassed in the slightest. It's true after all. "This is all that dick of yours is good for. You're just a warm toy for me to use." Blunt fingernails bite into the meat of your hips at the same time your partner stifles a moan.
"Did you think you were anything more than that?" You notice his hesitation before he shakes his head. "Good. I don't even care if you cum tonight. In fact, I'd prefer you didn't. The mess is such an inconvenience but I hope you realise that I'm going to cum over and over. I think it's only fair. I'm being so kind to you, giving you something to dream of when you touch your pathetic cock later."
He can hardly control himself. This is everything he's been so desperate to hear and now he's getting it, it's almost a relief. He doesn't need to think for himself. He can give his body over to you, someone that he trusts and knows that by the end of the evening, he'll have cum until he physically can't anymore.
"I need to feel you." He whimpers, kissing your neck and shoulders. "Please. I miss being inside you."
His cheeks are blazing, flushed with arousal and embarrassment as one of your hands tangles in his hair, forcing his mouth off your skin. His eyes meet yours and your cunt flutters at the power you have over his man. He makes you feel desired and it's entirely addictive.
"Don't be stupid." Your voice is steady, carrying the confidence that he instills in you. "You don't deserve to fuck me. Why do you think I care about what you need? This isn't for you."
Lust bubbles over, his hands planted either side of your waist to stop them from trembling and although you know that you'll give in later, it's fun to watch him unravel at being denied what he needs most.
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come rest your bones next to me ; satoru gojo, suguru geto
synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues
a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33
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”holy shit!”
the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.
”satoru, it’s too early for this...”
”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 
your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.
(snowing.)
with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.
satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 
maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 
it’s beautiful. 
satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 
all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 
the first snow of the year.
and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.
there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.
like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.
and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 
(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.
and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s lucky.)
high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.
and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 
a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.
he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.
— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.
satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.
(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)
”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 
he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.
it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.
so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.
satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.
”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.
”never.”
a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.
a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”
and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.
his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”
his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.
he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 
when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.
you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 
hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.
satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.
because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 
what more could a man want?
”hey, idiots!” 
the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.
”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”
”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.
suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 
(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)
with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.
”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.
then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”
satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”
a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”
a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”
and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”
satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.
despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”
”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.
”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”
satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.
suguru sighs.
”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”
his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.
he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 
when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.
the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.
(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.
and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)
suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.
when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.
that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.
”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.
satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 
but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”
a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”
you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”
a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.
and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 
his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.
and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 
(i'm sorry, you big baby.)
satoru grins.
you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.
”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”
he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”
”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”
”and don’t play dumb, either.”
a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”
said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 
and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.
”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”
satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”
you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”
”hmph.”
suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.
and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 
that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.
this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.
(married.)
sometimes he still can’t believe it. 
”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 
and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.
and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.
your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.
his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.
(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)
and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.
a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.
and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.
”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”
”— you’re disgusting.”
the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.
and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.
you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.
then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 
”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.
silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.
”… santa can only do so much, baby.”
two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.
”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 
you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”
”of course not! blasphemy.” 
a moment passes.
”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”
a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.
then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 
he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.
and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.
he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 
for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?
(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)
— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.
it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.
and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.
warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 
he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 
and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 
he hopes it never goes away.
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wasyago · 10 months
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the brainrot won
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iizuumi · 1 year
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Oikawa’s boyfriends are very proud of him for winning gold ;; <3
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metastablephysicist · 1 month
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highlight of my week is sitting in bed with my wife while she crochets and i read and drink the hot toddy she made me. and the dog is curled up at my feet and it's raining outside. practice for being elderly together
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doodlerh · 2 months
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LONG AWAITED FRERES + ARGOS LORE POST
highly recommended reading: galen and eran's original lore post!! some exclusive details there, but below is everything u need to know!
im gonna copy paste what i wrote in discord so it's gonna be pretty all over the place SDHFSDJ tw: implied child abuse, brutal death, mutilation; religious trauma?; implied kms ideation?? it's a whole lot
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so galen (ourple puppy) is an orphan who befriends eran (ellow bunny) by chance, eran being a child sheltered/raised by the scary ppl of the chapel on the cliff
one day eran (who is very malnourished) is blown by a massive gust of wind off the cliff while they're playing, and galen runs down and finds him like in. horrific shape
and eran's guardian, argos (whom galen has always been mini-jealous of bc argos always got to spent time with eran whereas galen had to sneak in and usually it was argos who caught them) finds galen (whom the townsfolk generally don't like for some reason) crouched over eran's body
and argos, who is a good man of faith who is kind to children and stuff, flies into this mad violent rage bc he thinks galen killed the vessel of their goddess and doomed her 5ever, and he grabs galen and cuts his fins off.
the ppl of the chapel stop him and they take eran away, and not knowing what to do about this wronged but irrelevant child, toss galen into the sea
argos is not supposed to be redeemed btw diversity win this hanha character is irredeemable
so what happens to eran is, he has been raised as the vessel of the goddess of dawn who has been trapped in the dream realm for centuries. eran was supposed to be magicked into the dream realm, be overtaken by her spirit, and reawaken as her reincarnation when he came of age. but now he is dying and he's only 10 but they're like this is our only chance this is all we have. and so they perform the magic and eran wakes up in an empty golden field, the dream realm, with no goddess
to be lost from the dream realm you have to be forgotten, and though her faithful have not forgotten her (dawn goddess) they've twisted her image into a nearly unrecognizable form and thus she is barely a sliver of who she once was; that sliver joins eran's spirit but he is still him, not knowing there is a goddess in him (nor can he interact with her as she is obv very tired), and is all alone
(question: did eran know about his fate) eran was just raised to be faithful and only knew super vaguely that he would save her (didn't know he was supposed to switch souls with her almost), so he is very lost n confused in the dream realm </3 and galen didn't know abt it, he just thought wow this kid is weird. we are friends now
but yes eran is thus trapped in the dream realm for 100 years, wanting to be forgotten (but somehow unable). meanwhile, galen somehow survives (we'll see how) and all he remembers is how he was first jealous of then afraid of and enraged at argos. so he climbs out of the surf after some time, perhap like a few years, and goes for the chapel
his mind is just filled with hatred for argos kind of warping the same way the goddess of dawn has been mis-remembered by her faithful, and he goes to the chapel and like he has a sharp stick or a knife or something and he just kills everybody in his way (the cult is falling apart at this time so not many ppl)
and he finds argos sitting by this trapdoor kind of thing, and argos is obv horrified bc he's been y'know haunted by his crime against galen and also his failure to be a good guardian towards eran, and he either lets galen kill him or galen overpowers him
anyway galen also dismembers his sea terror parts the same way argos did to him :/ and then he leaves the chapel
after this galen begins to lose his mind, memories surface and vanish, he forgets what happened to him and why he's in this state and he forgets eran, somewhat--he just remembers a dear childhood friend, his only source of happiness that he can't put a name to
as galen grows up he begins to dress himself as a knight, because that is the only adult garb he finds familiar in his mind (………..) and so he defaults to it
(my friend comments SDHFSJDFSD) SCREAMING that's so fucked up /pos "so why did you decide to become a knight?" horror movie sfx
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SO THEYRE FOILS!!! galen childishly saw argos as a rival for eran's attention, they both wanted to protect/cherish him, and they both "kill" each other in the same brutal way. ARGOS IS LIGHT WHILE GALEN IS DARK BUT ARGOS IS EVIL (?) WHILE GALEN IS GOOD (?) SO HERE LIGHT IS BADDDDD
anyway. all this time galen wanders the world, he's been dying for 100 years he kills anything in his path bc that's the only way he knows how to handle things that upset him. he doesn't remember why he's like this but his body remembers, as in whenever he is grabbed or touched or sudden sounds behind him he freaks out
anyway. one day he returns to the chapel, not really remembering it. it has since fallen from the cliff and is half submerged in the tide and sand. it's raining and he needs somewhere to sleep so he sleeps there, then wakes up in. THE DREAM REALM?
oh and btw he is nearly blind at this time, his remaining eye has a cataract so he can't really see anything, just a gold and blue blur and a figure in the distance
on the opposite side of things, eran has been alone in this golden field for 100 yrs, trying to find somebody, anybody
and one day he just finds a black knight lying in the grass. and he's like..somebody..?
and then he goes closer and he's like oh my god no not just somebody. but my dearest childhood friend. how is he still alive. how could this be?? am i dreaming within a dream? am i finally dying?
and galen is like huh wuh bc he's blind but eran like rushes through the field to him n like falls to his knees n breaks down cryin bc HES NOT ALONE and galen is here, not just anybody
and galen recognizes his voice n is like wait..wait and he comes closer n has to like look so closely n sees eran's grown up face and then they both just like bawl bc likw, so much has happened. so much has changed bro
galen has forgotten his name but he's like i know you, i know you like my own heartbeat bro, what is ur name please please and eran says eran and galen is like OUGGGG
so all along eran has been trapped here for 100 years bc galen has clung to his memory, bc he didn't know anything else that has ever brought him joy
and they catch up, learn the truth somewhat from each other. galen says that someone did this (his injuries) to him, but forgets who, and generally has very blurry memories but eran is able to piece things together. and he is torn by argos's loyalty and care for him and also his uncharacteristic violence and crimes towards galen
argos was like a much older brother to him so he is really destroyed by this, but mainly destroyed bc he can't believe he'd do this to galen
and galen learns that eran was being raised as this goddess vessel which is why he was so enigmatic, and galen gets so mad at the ppl of the chapel that he wakes up sjsns
oh yeah their relationship is complicated. eran is in love with galen, but knows he is mentally unstable and doesn't want to take advantage of him in this state, whereas galen is in love with eran but does not want to defile him bc galen thinks he himself is dirty and sinful, while eran is holy and pure and perfect
eran also wants to get obliterated by galen who has become big and tall and buff and handsome over the years but that's besides the point
they devise a plan to free eran from the dream realm..BUT HOW?? eran's body is still out there, he tells galen to bring it to the chapel and his spirit should rejoin with it. galen climbs up to the chapel (awakening bitter memories) and finds a trapdoor (where he'd killed argos). turns out the trapdoor leads to a hidden chamber and in the chamber is eran's body, which argos had been guarding
galen climbs down into the chamber and eran's body is grown but obv in horrific shape, with poorly healed broken bones and still all these wound marks and obviously super skeletal and pale
galen weeps n carries it down the cliff into the chapel and goes to sleep. and when he wakes up eran is gone
he looks ALL OVER the fields, crying out for him n pleading to the universe for this not to be how it ends etc, and then he wakes up to eran's body's arms around his neck, his spirit rejoined his body the second galen fell asleep :')
and then they're like augggf and scream and cry and kiss for the first time aww. and then they have a 300k word recovery angst fic for the rest of their life. THE END
ok actually freres and argos now.
freres is an orphanage caretaker, and argos is known as the white knight of the chapel. they're siblings (freres is a seahorse and argos is a seadragon), ig random fact is that freres is a girl but her sea terror is a male seahorse bc they're the ones who take closer care of their young
she is the one person to take galen in, bc for some reason, nobody wanted him or was nice to him (FOR A REASON I WILL EXPLAIN LATER BC I FORGOT)
argos is the younger brother, he's a proud and faithful guy who works for the chapel while freres (who is a believer but not insane like the cult) sticks w her kiddies. so freres happens to be with galen, and argos happens to be with eran :') miraculous
anyway one day freres is wondering where galen's run off to when he doesn't come back that night, or the next night, and she starts to worry
instead argos appears, seeming very very very distraught, and does'nt tell her anything about what he's done but just, is clearly distressed so freres is like its ok little brotherrr you are okayy :((( and argos is like haha yeah (IS NOT
freres finally must accept that galen is never coming back, which she's so worried n sad about but that's the reality of troublesome orphans, sometimes they just go n never return, for better or for worse
then many years later, argos is found like brutally murdered and dismembered in the chapel alongside all the remaining faithful
she grieves for a long time bc while this is kind of a town where dreadnauts like her are accepted (she also especially pays attention to orphan nauts bc she knows life is hard for em) she is still very lonely n different from everyone
neither of them were in their right minds when they did those things to each other ohh foils ohh foils
freres lives for a long time bc she's a dreadnaut so she continues to work her orphanage (she distracts herself from her grief by giving her love to these poor children), and one day she gets some visitors. more than 100 years after his initial disappearance, galen returns (alongside eran)
and freres sees how different he is (sunken blind eye, looking generally wary AND weary, his fins were hacked off, he and his companion are leaning on each other for support bc they've clearly gone through intense physical pains) and she's like oh my god..is that actually..like..him..? 🥺
and eran is like hi are u freres? and she's like yes, and galen looks closer and sees her familiar face and he like crumples to da ground and cries again bc she cared for him when nobody else did and freres also cries there's a lot of crying around here
it's a lot of explaining, but eran and galen tell freres what happened to both galen and argos
and galen is like,,i didn't, i wasn't thinking i was out of my mind, i didn't mean to do those things, but he did it first, he hurt me first, like he sounds very childish trying to explain himeslf to freres. but freres learns that argos had come to her all distraught that day bc he'd like snapped somewhat and killed a child, of course he wouldn't tell her that bc she runs an orphanage, and he felt so sick of himself and distraught and was questioning his faith
and then galen paid him back in kind. and freres just doesn't know what to feel, the same torn up grief as eran bc they both cared abt argos and galen and learning that they slew each other?? so gruesomely??
but freres is glad that galen is alive, she needs time to process this but she hopes that he can find happiness alongside eran (she treats them like a child and to-be-child-in-law) and that they come back to visit
also when eran says that argos was his guardian, freres remembers how argos spoke really fondly of the child he looked after at the chapel :') he was hoping for a fair maiden but a new little brother was just fine as well, he doted on eran which was why he flew into that uncharacteristic rage when he thought galen killed him
and that came from a place of brotherly protection and also faith--he alongside the other cult members o fthe chapel believed that eran was The Sole vessel, and that if he died the goddess of dawn would be lost forever
(friend question) idr if you explained it but what exactly does the goddess of dawn do and why has she garnered such a cult? and how did she die(?)
PERFECT SEGWAY ACTUALLY. the goddess of dawn once shared rule over the world with the god of dusk, her lover, but shared rule is always doomed to fall apart.
so in order to usurp her power, the god of dusk trapped the goddess of dawn in the dream realm, and th cult blamed the world's present cringeness on the god of dusk and hoped the gdess of dawn would reawaken to shed light of a new pure morning on the world
so question. why is galen still alive after everything
the same way eran is still alive: they are immortal! with the goddess of dawn's sliver of spirit in him, eran is now semi-divine
and galen, as a baby, was visited in a dream by the god of dusk, who took him as a vessel in order to make things right in the world and restore his old lover to power alongside him
why did everybody in town not like galen. bc he gave off an "unlucky" energy that came from the USURPER of their PATRON DEITY
thus eran is the "reincarnation of the goddess of dawn, and galen is the "reincarnation" of the god of dusk
they are lovers again :)
and one day while they're asleep together in their shared bed, the goddess of dawn and the god of dusk meet in a joined dream. they reconcile, express their regrets and their millennia-old feelings, and decide that they should not be divine anymore. bc cults happen and that was inasne
and so the gdess and god of dawn/dusk relinquish their divinity to galen and eran, who have suffered so much because of them, and they wake up in each others arms warm and content, but feeling as if they've forgotten something important..
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copias-juicebox · 26 days
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so for the lack of gifs i have today on this fine tutti sunday have at least some of my fav pics of this lil smol bean 🥰
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obsob · 9 months
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also i am....tentively........exploring....th idea of being aromantic uhehehh......if u r aromantic but still hve a partner i would lov to hear ur experience!!!
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skitskatdacat63 · 6 months
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Yes these have all already been posted, but 2023 Vettonso comp post for me because I'm going to have an emotional breakdown
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#i dont want to sound like a maniac but. i manifested this JDKFLGLVLV#okay but understand. ive been vettonso posting for like 3 or so weeks now#have been drawing them like its my god damn career#have been squealing and screeching over them with everyone#and like oh hey! they're both gonna be at suzuka! and seb is having a bee event! maybe nando will go!#BUT THEN NO I DONT HAVE TO JUST LIVE WITH SCRAPS. I GOT A WHOLE FUCKING MEAL#I AM GOING TO SCREAM AND CRY AND ROLL AROUND THE FLOOR#*i say as if i haven't done all of those things in quick succession after seeing these#yknow very fortuitous time for my parents to have gone on a vacation. so they didnt have to be witness to the emotional breakdown i just had#i was making noises that have not been uttered by human beings before :)#BUT LIKE INWAS LITERALLT JUDT DRAWING VETTONSO FANART#AND I FINISHED IT AND SCHEDULED IT#and was all silly in the tags like 'haha wonder if we'll get any interaction'#and then i go to scroll tumblr one last time before slepeing and I RECEIVE THIS FUCKING 12 COURSE MEAL#i cannot actually describe the emotion i felt when i first saw the pic#like genuine fucking shock through my body like just was like 'is this actually happening'#i said to C today 'i will be happy if we even get a pic of them within eachother's vicinity'#and well wow. theyre certainly within each others vicinities rn#if we actually get any more pics i think i will keel over i think i will actually turn into dust and powder on the floor#UGHHHHHHH JUST THE TIMING!!!!!! THEY DID IT FOR ME 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#sometimes manifesting does work. after you draw like 20 hours worth of art of them#im trying to be concise but i really cant#because its literally just animal screeching and whining noises in my head rn#HOW DO I SLEEP AFTER THIS???????????????#formula 1#sebastian vettel#fernando alonso#vettonso#2023 japanese gp#we do a little bit of f1
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hey guys just doodling the guy again (i am booed offstage)
#death note#l lawliet#bright colors#eyestrain#my art#yeah it’s him again#went to actually draw something but like#eh#might as well draw this guy#i’m projecting my tiredness onto him but is it really projection if he’s also tired? i don’t think so#i would pay cash money to pass out for the next 24 hours dm me and i’ll give you my location and u can bonk me on the head w a bat#genuinely think the lack of sleep has been aggravating a lot of my issues i’ve been weirdly flipping between like#paranoia and weirdly happy and irrational anger and just deeply numb#which actually now that i think about it is exactly what happens every time i don’t sleep enough for long enough#methinks i should sleep more snork mimimi it makes my brain work better#god i want to sleep so bad rn#but i have to do laundry and make 2 pies for other people to consume tomorrow#i plan on decorating the crusts w dicks or smth bc i hate the people it’s going to and they are very conservative religious sorta vibes#but some people there would get a kick out of it (the good ones)#u know i was wondering if i really complain about being tired enough for those anons about sleep and y’know what#i really do#and i will forever#if i’m tired u will know of it and thats because it’s always#maybe i should try that caffeine shit people rave about (<- has not drank energy drinks or sodas or coffees since i was like. 14)#actually i think my heart would give out idk what’s with it but it gets silly sometimes so i don’t think it would like caffeine#or maybe idc who knows#the best solution imo is passing out forever and ever and waking up and hopefully being refreshed or smth
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Feeling a certain way about that latest bsd interview concerning Akutagawa and the treatment he suffered
(that way is bad.)
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aquilamage · 7 months
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I still haven't stopped thinking about Them
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paper-star-ships · 2 months
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Y’all ever had a crush on a character from a source you’ve never seen or is that just me
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cathalbravecog · 8 months
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veep dad comfort art
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the-penguinspy · 1 year
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avatrice + ineptly kiss cheek
ty for the lovely prompt as always, em :)
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Beatrice had just finished putting the grounds in the coffee maker when Ava stumbles out of their bedroom, yawn halfway in effect as she rubs a hand over her face. Her borrowed boxer shorts are slung low over her hips, and her sleep shirt exposes her midriff when she brings her arms overhead in a languid stretch. Beatrice almost (almost!) overfills the water container in the coffee maker, but she catches her blunder in time. 
The coffee maker whirs and growls as it heats up the water and starts to drip into the pot, and Beatrice reaches into the cupboards above her for two mugs before she finally feels a pair of arms wrap snug around her waist. Ava’s chin hooks over her shoulder, and the sleepy grumble that accompanies the motion is muffled in the crook of Beatrice’s neck.
Beatrice rests the mugs against the countertop before turning around to greet Ava with a kiss on her forehead, fingers linking around the back of her neck. “Good morning, darling.”
A sigh of contentment as Ava settles more firmly against her. “G’morn’, babe.” She nuzzles Beatrice’s collarbone, presses a soft kiss there. Another one higher up on her neck. She eventually stands on her tiptoes for one more kiss, but her trajectory is flawed – off-course, her aim lands along the curve of Beatrice’s jaw instead. 
Beatrice smiles, a corner of her mouth quirked upwards; Ava’s irresistible on the best of days, but in the mornings, she’s just too – 
“Cute.” The adoration comes out on an exhale, automatic like breathing. The fact is this: Beatrice takes pride in her discipline and self-control. The act of loving Ava, however, requires neither; hasn’t, not for a long time, and Beatrice chuckles softly before her lips find their place on the apple of Ava’s cheek. She lingers for one moment, two – and in the beat between the second and third, she feels a satisfied hum rumble its way from Ava’s throat. 
The aroma of coffee wafts through the living room and saturates the spaces between them, filling in the missing puzzle piece – it’s not really a morning without the promise of fresh caffeine, paired with the lovely, skewed kisses from one delightfully sleepy Ava. 
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