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#once u see it
comradekatara · 4 months
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it's national draw your sibling day
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slymanner · 7 months
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hurt my heart why dontcha.
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inkskinned · 9 months
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he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
#i used to think it was romantic too and then i was like. now i see it as a HUGE red flag#writeblr#it is also almost EXCLUSIVELY said by immature ppl who think this is normal#fyi even if u think it's funny and ur like 'im an introvert it's just TRUE' like. you need therapy (ily tho)#healed introversion is just ''i would prefer to be by myself'' not ''i hate every person'' ... hate is not normal. that is not healthy#im sorry. i know it feels accurate. but if you're walking around with that kind of rage....#1. you're making a LOT of assumptions about every single person u have ever met. which is often unfair and unkind#and also usually involves judging people based on their worst moments or little mistakes#2. you are being unfair to the person who is ur ''exception''#3. there is a VAST difference between ''ur my favorite person'' and ''the ONLY person i like.''#idk i think this is just a personal bias thing tbh#im sure there are people who have this experience normally#but i have YET to find a man who thinks like this and ISNT absolute DOGSHIT. although tbh.... like. im sure he exists#when u hit like 30 some of the things that were once kind of hot now just sound fucking exhausting. like ''im in a band''#edit in the tags: i used to kind of be like this too. but the thing is that like. my life became so much more peaceful#once i started believing that people are generally good. like yes i am mad at the world at large#but it's just.... a very hard way to live. you're not a bad person or wrong for the ways other people hurt you and taught you to be angry.#but that anger will continue to hurt YOU. it will punish YOU. it will prevent YOU from making new deep connections. it will protect you yes#but it will also cause MASSIVE blowback. bc if you lose the One Person... your life will fall apart. i know this personally.#i really recommend just trying to be... cautiously optimistic instead. like. yes#people can be horrible and cruel and there are some communities (incels for example) that aren't worth that optimism#but i think like... most people will hold a door for you . most people want to help you find your wallet .#i hope one day you are able to find peace. i hope that rage eventually smooths over. i know how hard it is PERSONALLY#and i know what must have happened to you. and im deeply deeply sorry we share the same wound.#but i promise - sometimes we all need someone else to help us carry the weight. eventually the rage has to die so that we can let help in#i had to spend years biting at outstretched hands. i still often do. im still very wary . and my heart breaks that you flinch too.#here's the thing: i don't blame you. but we were both acting out of fear and pain. .... not out of healthy behavior. and ... change#was needed. i needed change too. rage was useful for a while. then it just left me isolated and bitter. i had to (with effort)#choose to let that rage go. and let people in . VERY SLOWLY THO LOL
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ryukatters · 7 months
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Something about Bakugo being nosy just sits so right with me. It’s canon that he’s often listening in on conversations (even if participants of said conversations are unaware of his presence) so I imagine when he likes you he tends to hover around you just a little bit more.
You could be talking to Ashido and Kaminari in the common room and Bakugo will be there. Maybe not necessarily near you, not even looking at you. He’s off on the opposite side of the room, and he’s so uncharacteristically quiet that you could forget he was there in the first place.
You mention offendedly how you miss your favorite drink and snack from that one cafe near the heart of Musutafu, being too busy with your work study to find the time to visit.
A few days later, you hear a knock on your door. You’re met with a plastic bag with the very same food and drink combination you had just told your friends about the other day. Your eyes trail the arm and hand holding it and see Bakugo with a pinched look on his face.
“‘s for you,” he grumbles, head turned to the side as his signature scowl deepens. If you looked any closer, you’d clearly be able to see the blush accentuating his cheeks and ears. 
“Thank you, Bakugo,” you take the bag with a smile, and Katsuki has to keep from shuddering when your fingertips accidentally brush his. “Why don’t you come in so we can share?”
Bakugo is nosy, but if it means being able to share stolen moments (and bites of food) with you, then it’s totally worth it.
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dandelion-roots · 2 months
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poor miles...
[id in alt]
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melonsharks · 8 months
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i went. insane. LOOK. i know a lot of people realllyyyy wanted crowley to be the wedding dress designer LOOK I KNOW AND ITS OK u can make ur own au i promise but in MY WORLD. you need to understand me.
crowley owning a vineyard is personal to me. he is THE snake in the garden of eden, tempting is his JOB ok. he makes wines aziraphale indulges in, aziraphale designs dresses with crowley in mind. do you hear me. are you listening to me. i have everything from the second they meet mapped out OK i know what im talking about. listen to my delusions, boy.
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obsob · 1 year
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making and weaving and loving! like we have done for millennia!!
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sick of twitter discourse pitting these guys against each other they would laugh at each others jokes and kiss and love each other i think
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riaki · 5 months
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nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader
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wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends
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i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!
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satoru hates arguing with you.
it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.
it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.
of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.
but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.
it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.
it was small. barely worth fussing over.
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he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.
a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.
"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.
his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.
you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.
"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.
(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)
you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.
he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.
you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.
"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.
you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.
"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.
he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.
then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.
"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.
his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.
(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)
but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.
"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.
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the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.
and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).
a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.
but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.
you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.
"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"
"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”
...
he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.
maybe.
a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.
it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.
"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.
"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)
his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.
you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.
he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.
the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.
what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.
eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.
wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.
despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.
and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.
"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.
"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."
you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.
"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.
(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)
"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.
"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.
you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.
he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.
you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.
you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.
you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.
you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.
"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.
even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.
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its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !
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cozylittleartblog · 2 months
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8th annual nick valentine post! fallout 4 npcs Love sitting. they'll see a chair and ask "is anyone gonna sit here" and not wait for an answer. its like nick is on a personal quest to sit in every chair in the commonwealth. if he sees a chair its on sight
its because his joints are bad, obviously. he's like 140
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asaethiel · 10 months
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horror movie twins/gansey's magicians/etc
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guiiay · 1 year
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quanxi
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cenpede · 10 months
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Opens my sketchbook and shows you all my silly lines on paper
Pls click idk why the quality suddenly went ass up
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shivroy · 4 months
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disco dudes
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mugentakeda · 5 months
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kissohee · 4 months
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taesan x leehan x fem!reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : 3k+ ☆ one-shot mdni! synopsis; when taesan and leehan invite you to go swimming with them, you find yourself doing a lot more than swimming. warnings; all bnd members mentioned except wnk, i refer to taesan (dongmin) and leehan (donghyun) as their real names, hot tub sex, leehan is more of a dom than taesan is, hickies, fingering, humping, unprotected sex (wrap it!), handjob, big dick leehan ofc, theyre pervs (?), boob play, they get a teeny bit competitive/bicker at each other at one point, no mxm
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Jaehyun had warned you way before you guys had even gotten to the hotel that Dongmin and Donghyun were more than likely going to drag you to the pool with them.
And he was absolutely right, because not even 5 minutes into checking into the hotel, they were asking the lady at the front desk about the pool on the roof. When she said it was for residential use for free, they couldn't hide the excitement they felt about it. "We should go the second we unlock our hotel rooms." Donghyun suggests, dragging his suitcase in the halls while everyone walks to the 3 rooms you guys had rented. "Shouldn't we settle in first?" You raise an eyebrow at him and Donghyun shrugs back with a smile on his face. Jaehyun plays with the keycards in his hands, figuring out which room is for which key before giving you yours. You had split up the 3 rooms by having you by yourself, while Sanghyeok, Sungho and Jaehyun were in another and the last one is for Dongmin and Donghyun. You place the keycard on the pad on your door, Dongmin leans against the wall watching you, "So it's official you're coming with us?" You ignore his question when the pad on the door turns red, the keycard refusing to work. "I-" You look at him confused and he turned his attention to the keycard, "It's not working?" "Let me try," he grabs the card from you and when the pad turns red again he searches around for Jaehyun, who opened his door and is now inside the room. "Myungjae.!" He yells loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough to make the surrounding rooms complain. Jaehyun pops his head out and raises his eyebrows, "It's not working." You grab the card from Dongmin to hand it to Jaehyun who is now attempting to work the keypad. You see Donghyun poke his head out from the room he also got open, curiosity on his face. "Huh," Jaehyun inspects at the card, "Weird. Maybe they gave us the wrong one?" You look at Dongmin and Donghyun before shrugging your shoulders, "Looks like the pools gonna have to wait." "No biggie," Donghyun shakes his head, "You could just change in our room." "But I have to go fix the problem with Jae. It is my room." You look at Jaehyun who has a smile on his face. Dongmin grabs your suitcase before dragging it into the room he was staying in and Jaehyun slightly nudges you, "I got it, don't even worry about it." Before you were able to even say anything back, you found yourself in Dongmin and Donghyun's room, looking through your suitcase for the bathing suite you made sure to pack. "Is that one new?" Donghyun asks, grabbing the bra of your bikini set, his fingers grazing over the texture. You gently snatch it from his hands, "Just bought it." You head towards the rooms bathroom and get dressed. When you leave the bathroom the two boys are in their bathing trunks, and when they both look at you at the same time, you can't help but feel a lot more shy than normal. Donghyun's eyes travel your body before he smiles in a smirk like manner, "I like it." He pats Dongmin's thigh to tell him to get up and they both grab their towels. "Actually do one of you have a towel I can use? I forgot mine at home." You search through your suitcase with no luck. Dongmin towers over you before smiling softly, "You can share with me." When you're silent, his voice gets quieter, "Only if you want to." You look up at him with a smile, "Sure, thank you Min."
The moment you guys made it the pool, you were already shivering. The two boys seemed to not care about the current weather situation, and you assume that's because of how badly they wanted to go swimming. After putting your stuff down on one of the chairs, you took a deep breath before slowly getting in the water. You wished it wasn't so cold out, the ambiance was really nice, especially because you could just look at the city below and see the lights from the buildings brightening up the dark sky. But you couldn't enjoy it because you're stuck in the corner of the pool, shivering. It's so cold you're sure you could get frostbite if you stay in there longer than 30 minutes. "Hey guys," They both watch as you exit the pool, "It's really cold." Donghyun swims to the edge you were standing at and lifts himself up, "We can go." "No.!" He confusingly drops back into the pool, "It's okay, we can stay, I just won't go into the pool, that's all." "You sure?" Dongmin tilts his head and you nod. You didn't want to be the reason why they weren't able to enjoy something they were very clearly looking forward to doing, and the temperature of the air wasn't so bad. Your skin started to dry up once you wrapped yourself in Dongmin's towel, only then did you realize there was a hot tub attached to the pool. You watch as the two boys compete in swimming laps, contemplating on whether or not you should test out the hot tub before carrying yourself over there and sitting inside. The temperature was the exact opposite of the pools, it was nice and warm. The light blue light turning the water entirely translucent. Eventually they both got out the pool too, complaining about how the cold water got to them as well and joining you in the hot tub to warm up. "It's soo much better in here." Dongmin rests his back against the wall of the hot tub, laying his head back. You did the same thing as Dongmin, even resting your eyelids for a bit, and when you opened them you were greeted by Donghyun staring at your breasts. "Eyes are up here, Kim Donghyun." You warned in a jokingly manner, his eyes dragging up into yours, but the expression on his face not changing once. "Can't help it," He looks back at your breasts again, "Especially not when you look so good.." You splash some water towards him and laugh to try to even out the heavy atmosphere. Donghyun splashes you back and responds with laughter in his voice, "Did I say something wrong?" You sigh so loud it came out more as just simply exhaling, "Well I mean- I don't know... But you can't just say things like that." He raises an eyebrow, "And why not?" "Because-" You have trouble finding your words, "Because we are friends..?" Your voice shaky, not sure if what you were saying was even true. Donghyun and Dongmin have always been super close to you ever since you met. Despite the fact that you met through Jaehyun, Dongmin and Donghyun had zero problem when it came to flirting or being extra close, more than always passing it off as a joke.
So there's no way either of them think of you as anything more than a friend, it was simply just joking. "You know," Donghyun looks at Dongmin who's shaking his head to tell him that whatever it is that he's about to say, he shouldn't say it. "Dongmin's found you hot since the moment you met." Dongmin continues to shake his head before covering his face with his hands, very clearly embarrassed. Donhyun opens his mouth to talk again before he gets cut off, "Not just me. Donghyun has been eyeing you forever." "Well this is news to me." You say before Donghyun has the opportunity to respond to him. The three of you sit in silence, unsure on how to continue the conversation after their awkward confessions. Donghyun looks at Dongmin who's shaking his head again and he looks at you, "On that note," he speaks slowly, "What if I told you I want to fuck you?" You don't know what exactly you expected out of Donghyun's mouth, but it certainly wasn't that. Anything but that actually. It seems as though he read your mind, "You'd let me right?," Dongmin clears his throat and Donghyun immediately corrects himself, "Sorry, you'd let us, right?" You look between them both, fidgeting with your fingers, "Both.. of.. you..?" "Is that okay?" Dongmin butts in, making it clear he's interested in you despite not participating in the conversation as much. You had to really think about it. You thought they were attractive, everyone did, but if you agree to it, it could possibly turn the really good friendship you had with them into an awkward one. Yet for some reason you find yourself nodding, agreeing to their proposal. Donghyun is first to react, and the moment his lips touch yours, you feel your body heat up. A very different type of heat than the one coming from the hot tub. Especially when Donghyun slides his tongue into your mouth without you even realizing, a clear natural, and your hands come to hold his cheeks. Dongmin whispers something in Donghyun's ear, who looks at him with an obvious look on his face. Breaking away from your kiss, he replies, "Me, duh." "What? Why?" Dongmin whines out, a pout forming on his lips. "I'm bigger, she'll feel more full." Donghyun shrugs like it's the clear choice. You put the pieces together and realize they're talking about who actually goes inside of you, you would offer to take both of them, but their bickering was too entertaining for you to want to stop them. "So???" Dongmin rolls his eyes, "Fine, can I at least touch her before you?" "Okay, but don't let her cum, I want her to cum from me." "She'll cum twice then." Dongmin shrugs, lifting one of your legs over his, helping to spread yours softly. His hand rests over your clothed heat, only thing keeping it from making contact is the polyester of your bikini bottom. "You are okay with this, right?" He softly asks you.
You shift your hips around and nod, "Yes, please just.." Placing a hand on the rough seat of the hot tub to balance yourself, but instead leaning against Donghyun, who wraps his arms around your waist. Dongmin pushes the fabric of your bikini to the side, softly pressing one of his fingers on your clit, looking at your face to observe your reactions. Your chest rises and falls heavier when he starts toying with your clit, sending waves of sensation to where you needed it the most. Donghyun watches from above your shoulder at the way Dongmin moves against your clit. You let out a soft moan and Dongmin tries his best to hold down a smile that tried to escape. When he felt you clench around nothing, he took it as a sign to enter one of his fingers in. You hold his arm, and he stops moving, waiting until you give him the green light to continue. When you got slightly used to the feeling of his finger inside of you, you let go of his arm. He looks at you for confirmation and when you nod, he starts pumping his finger in and out of you. It's been a while since you last had any type of sensation so his singular finger was already stimulating you to the point of release. You shift your hips again, this time being able to feel Dongmin's bulge, pressing your knee into it to hopefully give him some relief he might be looking for. And you know you're right when he curses under his breath before softly grinding against your knee in the pace of his fingers. "Min-" You moan out when he enters another finger inside of you, not able to take his eyes off of the way your mouth hangs open from how good he's making you feel. And he didn't realize how much he's yearning for release too until he focuses on it. The mere fact that Dongmin's attempting to get himself off using your knee makes you clench around his fingers. Would it be too late to ask if you could take him right now? Those thoughts disappear when Donghyun whispers in your ear, "Maybe it's a good thing he's doing this first.. You're gonna need the slight preparation for when you take me." He leaves a small peck on your cheek and rubs the sides of your waist. You're sure Dongmin overheard when he adds a 3rd finger, reaching so deep inside you you're worried if he's even meant to go that far in. Using his thumb, he circles your clit, trying to keep all his attention on making you feel the best you can instead of on the ache in his cock. Donghyun's words and the way Dongmin feels inside of you, make your head cloud up. And you can't tell if it's that or the heat from the hot tub making you sweat. "Min-" You reach out for him, squeezing on his other arm, "Oh gosh.. Min- Please.." The way you stumbled over your words boosted Dongmin's ego, speeding up his hand while still lightly pressing himself against your knee. Your climax approached you before you were even able to let Dongmin know. Hips twitching as you came on his hand, mumbling his name so much it'll wear out. Donghyun softly rubs against your stomach to rid it of any possible aches.
"My turn," Donghyun lifts you up and into his lap, taking note in the way your body has given up on strength. "Unless you-" You shake your head and look at Dongmin before looking at Donghyun, "I'm okay, let's continue.!" "You sure?" Donghyun looks at you for extra confirmation, never wanting to go out of your comfort zone, but when you mumble a small 'I promise', he's already undoing the lace on his swim trunks. Donghyun frees himself from the shorts, cock aching to be inside of you, and he mimics what Dongmin did and pushes your bikini to the side. He lines himself up with you, "Let me know when you're ready." You nod and take a deep breath, "I'm ready." He inserts inside of you, the size of his cock making your walls burn and you feel the wind get knocked right of you, "Oh fuck." "I won't move," He rubs his hands along your back, reaching your bikini top before undoing it. Despite trying to catch your breath, you notice the way both Dongmin and Donghyun stare at your bare breasts in awe, the other boy adjusting himself in his shorts. "Can I move now, sweetheart?" You hear almost desperation come from Donghyun's voice as he moves his hands to your breasts, softly massaging them. "Yeah I think I'm good now." You speak slowly, trying to get used to Donghyun's warm wet hands on your sensitive nipples. He looks at Dongmin who is trying his hardest not to touch himself, "Dongmin, come here." The boy looks at Donghyun with confusion, "I need you to help her move." Dongmin sulkily listens, upset that he's not the one inside of you right now, but nonetheless he softly grabs your hips and guides you on top of Donghyun who continues to play with your breasts. Dongmin takes the advantage of his control to finally feel what it's like to have your lips against his, and given the situation, he thinks the kiss is sweet. But he doesn't do it anymore than once, knowing you're too focused on Donghyun. He hold onto Donghyun's shoulders, feeling like your core was being ripped apart, thankful Dongmin was there to help you as you knew you wouldn't have been able to on your own. The same boy took the opportunity to press kisses all over your shoulders and neck, sucking on spots that seemed to get a reaction out of you. Your hand searches Dongmin's body, finally finding his bulge. When you softly palm it, he jolts, making Donghyun thrust up into you, earning a moan from you. He whimpers, allowing you to do it again. In between Donghyun's thrusts, you undo Dongmin's trunks so you can help him better. Donghyun moves his hands from your breasts to your hips, guiding you on him as you pump Dongmin's dick in a pace that matched Donghyun's. Dongmin removes his lips from your skin so you could jerk him easier, he melts into your touch, already finding himself closer than he'd expected. Donghyun replaces the absence of Dongmin's lips on you with his own, biting down on your collarbone skin, more than likely leaving marks impossible to cover up. Feeling the pressure in between your legs grow as Dongmin's cock twitched in your hand, even Donghyun's grip on your hips tightened as you got closer to release. Moving your thumb along Dongmin's tip got him to where he's been wanting, his whimpers increasing in volume as his cum streams into the water. His eyebrows furrowing as he breathes heavy. Donghyun starts moving faster underneath you, his hips thrusting up sporadically. You feel him move inside of you, curses falling from his lips faster, you reach your climax again, moaning both their names with the very little energy you have left. Donghyun lifts you off of him so he could cum too, it never leaving the warm water.
You collapse onto Donghyun when your body gives out, all 3 of you in silence while you all catch your breath and come to realization about what had happened. "Here, take her," Donghyun eventually speaks up, helping you rest on Dongmin's lap instead so he could fix himself and help put your bikini top back on. Your eyelids felt heavy and the comfort of Dongmin's shoulders makes you fall asleep, burnt out from the previous activities.
-
You were sure they carried you back to the hotel room, because when you opened your eyes, you were in pajamas on a bed instead of in the hot tub. When you turned around, you were face to face with Dongmin, who was peacefully sleeping. And something about that made you smile.
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hi this was actually the death of me. i went through the 5 stages of grief writing this. this fic is based on this ask! it was highly wanted and the original nonie said i could write it so i did!! big thank u to nonie for the idea and bunny for helping me! it took longer than i wanted and im not happy with the result but you know,,,, 😭 also the writing looks a little awkward because both of them are Dongs,, so you end up seeing those letters a lot, guess i have their parents to thank for that 💔
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