#pei writes

[writingpei]

felix | 필릭스: soulmates

when your friends from college were shocked to discover that you had never, ever been attracted to anyone you've met before, you realized that maybe there was something wrong with you.

you hadn't lied. you were out at night, a couple drinks in your system, and when they looked at you with wide eyes and itchy throats from so many questions, you were taken aback.

“not even when you were much younger?”

no.

“but what about high school? everyone gets a crush in high school!”

the last thing you thought about in high school was romance, not because you forbade yourself from it, but because it never crossed your mind at all.

“not even in college? this is crazy…”

much less in college. work was piling up on your desk, and you didn't even have time to sleep properly, let alone pay attention to someone else.

that conversation haunted your mind for many days. you had never thought much about your (non-existent) love life, and how weird and abnormal it seemed to those around you, an anomaly in the form of a person.

the hustle and bustle of the city was overwhelming, but it was just another day for you. your head was down, avoiding unnecessary conversations with anyone, those conversations roamed your mind for many days.

the path to your regular coffee shop where you always got a latte was already memorized in your head, taking the same path and stepping where you always stepped every day.

your head was full, and minho seems to have realized that days before he actually asked you anything.

“what is wrong with you these days?” he asked in his usual tone of voice, sassiness escaping his lips as his hands worked quickly to make your order.

minho was your barista, he had always made your coffee since the day you first stepped inside the place, a few months before.

“i’m very, very confused” you confessed, sitting on the stool at the counter, on the opposite side of him.

“about what?” he asked, sliding the warm cup with the good smell that always brings you comfort and the fog that rises from it.

“is never being attracted to absolutely anyone i've ever met normal?” you asked quietly and looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed.

minho stops for a few seconds and blinks, deep in his thoughts.

“i don't know. how old are you, twelve?” you roll your eyes as soon as he says this, throwing your arms up on the counter and sighing.

“20…” you whisper back, putting your hands over your face to hide the shame gnawing at you.

“oh” he says, and even without seeing him, you can tell he's holding back a smile. “that’s… that’s different”

“is it weird?” you ask, desperately wishing he'd say no, but when you take your hands from your face and see him, his slouched posture propping himself up with his elbows on the counter, you know he's going against what you expect.

“kinda, yeah” he replies. “but have you really, really never been attracted to anyone at all? no one ever stood out to you?”

it is then that the brown hair you know so well appears in your memory. cheeks washed by a sea of ​​freckles and red lips you could never escape.

you are in an almost state of shock for a few seconds, mind completely dominated by the inherent figure of the boy inside your memory.

“have you thought of anyone?” minho questions, but even with open eyes, you can't see him. it was like you were in a trance, coming to a conclusion you definitely didn't want to come to, feeling your heart beat faster for something you didn't want it to.

“hum” you begin, trying to pull yourself together within reality. “if you thought what i asked you was weird… this is even weirder…”

“minho!” someone behind the counter calls out to you loudly, taking their attention away from you.

“what is it, jisung?” he asks, already irritated.

“we have more orders, you need to help me” the dark haired boy complains, steaming some milk nervously.

“can’t you see i’m busy right here?” minho retorts, offended frown etched on his face. “go on, i’m free to listen”

“um…” you look at him and then at the boy who was now making shots of espresso at a speed you couldn't imagine was possible. “sure…” you says uncertainly, then taking a deep breath and thinking about where to start. “there is this guy”

when you suddenly stop talking, minho approaches with his arms on the counter, as if you're telling him a secret.

"ok…?" he encourages you to continue.

“i know him since i was a kid”

“wow, that’s cute” minho says, putting his face in his hands. “like a puppy love or something?”

“no, no” you say. “i… i never met him, like, ever”

minho is visibly confused again, eyebrows rising.

"what do you mean?"

“i’ve never met him in my life”

“but that’s not possible. how do you know him then?”

“through my dreams” you try to explain yourself, but the words being said out loud make you extremely self-contious and realize the craziness that was spewing from your mouth.

after a few seconds of silence and awkward looks, minho finally responds. “well, that’s unusual”

“don’t you think i’m weird?” you ask, taken aback by his lack of reaction.

“because of this? not much. because of the amount of sugar you put on your coffee sometimes? hell yeah”

“i really like sweets…” you slump back in your chair and he just crosses his arms, rolling his eyes slightly.

“tell me more about this guy of your dreams. what's he like?" minho's interest had images of the boy popping into your head so quickly you felt dizzy.

the shy smile that appeared on his pink lips, the low voice when he spoke to everyone, the false and treacherous memory of his house, his bedroom, his school, his clothes.

his name was felix, and you don't remember exactly when or why you started dreaming about him every night, but you know it was when you were very young.

he lived with his grandmother in a large but simple house in the middle of an open field, and he had to walk a long way on a completely empty road to get to school. he was shy but not aloof; he cared too much about everything, actually.

the dreams were very strange, it was like you entered his body and lived in his skin. the warm sweatshirts he liked to wear warmed you up, and his grandma's food that was so delicious that it seemed too real to be just a dream, coming from your imagination. you soon found out that he had the same birthday as you, and every year the dream of that night was the most awaited one, the taste of the birthday cake his grandmother always made became a concrete memory in your head.

by your teenage years, you thought you were going crazy. he could only be a figment of your brain. you never told your parents out of shame, it was like those imaginary friends you have when you are a kid, but yours appeared too late in your life. it didn't make any sense, the dreams were extremely real, the feelings too. you never managed to talk to him, because it was in him that you resided, inside his body and his mind, in an unbelievably strong connection. you tried several times to write small messages in notebooks or walls that you were trying to channel everything you wanted to say, but in the next day's dream, their presence had already been erased, washed away by time.

the moment things took a different turn and you were sure it was real was when a communication began to exist between the two of you. well, sort of, at least. it all started when you woke up one day with tears running like waterfalls down your cheeks, a huge heart ache. you couldn't understand what was going on and what had upset you so much, having just woken up from a dream, but the feeling was so raw and present that it couldn't be anything. he had to be sad and it canalized on you too.

it went on. at completely random times of the day, you would feel an intense urge to laugh, cry, smile, sleep. it was as if his strongest feelings crossed a threshold and flew straight to you.

it wasn't uncommon for dreams you had just sitting in front of a mirror, staring at felix's complex. your fingertips tentatively touching everywhere on his face, feeling the soft, delicate skin beneath your skin. the constellation of freckels on his cheeks made something inside you bubble.

with time you decided to let it go. the strange feeling that consumed you every time you saw him or thought about him started to scare you, that's why lately you refrained from looking in any mirror during the dreams, and also avoided talking, not wanting the thick and deep voice to reach your ears more than it should. you tended to pull away from him even if he didn't know it. whenever you woke up, you tried to keep your mind off felix's memory as much as you could.

that's why you never considered looking for him. the burning fear that maybe he really didn't exist always scared away the idea of ​​looking for him. you knew where he lived, where he studied, you knew everything he liked from the posters spread across the walls, the books in his shelves, and the video games in his room. but you also knew that you couldn't bear the weight of the truth of knowing that he wasn't real, that the boy never existed, so you closed yourself off from him, starting to sleep less every day so that your dreams would be cut short, and that's how you met minho, the need for coffee that entered your life from the exhaustion and fear that dominated you.

“he, well… he's…” you started to say, but couldn't finish, intending not to let your mind linger on him any longer than it should. “better let it go, minho. guess I'll be a weirdo forever then"

minho sighs and walks over to the pastries counter, pulling out a cookie and holding it out to you.

“take it here,” he says, and you take it from him reluctantly.

“are you feeling sorry for me?” you ask, feeling slightly offended.

“no, definitely not…” he trails off, but you know he's lying.

“thanks for the free cookie” you shrug, biting into the candy.

“anytime” he answers and starts making espressos.

in the following days after this conversation the world appeared to be moving in slow motion. the clouds hung low in the gray sky as if they were weighed down by the heaviness of the gloomy days. the dreams were brief and impersonal as you were sleeping less and less. all you wanted was to be able to escape his life, the deep feelings that invaded your heart without your permission, the melancholic hue of the days that passed slowly.

that was a day like any other, classes were endless and you felt a sense of lethargy settle over your head like a heavy and slow clock. all you wanted was to get back to the comfort of your own home, but when the teacher asked for a few more minutes after class to explain an assignment, you knew you were going to miss the subway.

when class finally ended, your steps were dashed down the street, heavy drops of rain hitting your skin until you found shelter inside the subway tunnels, running to catch the one that was coming. your luck was clouded like the weather outside, the sound of rain echoing like an endless song.

your effort was in vain, as when you arrived the train had its doors closed, the sound of metal on metal emerging as it began to move. a weight was somehow lifted off your shoulders, a sense of being a spectator, watching the world move around you without really being a part of it.

everything suddenly went quiet, and your eyes were unconsciously drawn inside the train, when you see a pair of eyes you never imagined you would see.

your heart raced and burned in your chest as his eyes lock with yours. you feel unable to move or breath, dizziness taking over your body. in that moment, it was as if time stood still and all that existed was the two of you. he seems to have been surprised as much as you, but he wasn't frozen, on the contrary, he took steps to get closer to the train window, but it was too late. the starting noise became deafening, and it felt like it was being pulled away from you.

maybe you were imagining things, the lack of good nights sleep finally catching up to you making you hallucinate. your mind raced with questions and your emotion were a jumbled mess. you couldn't get your mind off his brown hair that he started to grow out, or his cheeks adorably rosy and covered in freckles, his favorite gray sweater that looked more comfortable and handsome than ever, seen on his body.

when the train passes again after a few wasted minutes, you have to force yourself out of the seat and onto it before you miss this one too. the drive home is consumed by a stunned silence, and you think you've finally lost your mind.

when you leave the station, the rain starts to wet you quickly doesn't bother you. you're too in shock to worry about getting soaked, and now more than ever you want to get back to the safety and comfort of your home.

out of nowhere, the rain stops all over your skin and a shadow looms over your head. being pulled out of your thoughts, your gaze rises to see an unfamiliar umbrella being held over your head, and when you turn your back to see who was protecting you from the rain, your thoughts almost gave out.

it was one thing to see felix in the mirror, through a filter, a thin line that separates what is possible and what is not. it's another thing to see him so close, this time inside his own body. he blinks at you several times, as if trying to check if he's seeing correctly or not.

“excuse me, um…” he starts to say and scratches the back of his head with his free hand. his deep voice cuts through your chest like a blade, that velvety voice that has sent a shiver down your spine more times than you can remember. “i know this might sound crazy, but have we met before?” he asks, but you don't answer, you can't. it's like your lips are glued together. “in my dreams, i mean” he explains.

his big, hopeful eyes wait for an answer, he unconsciously leans in closer to look at you more closely. you give in to your instincts however and your fingertips fly out to touch him on the cheek, the familiar soft skin coming into contact with your skin.

the truth of his existence is overwhelming, and you can't stop the tears shyly welling up in your eyes. “you're real…” is the only thing you manage to get out, and your other hand comes up to his face, cupping his cheeks.

a look of relief appears on her delicate features, and he snuggles into her touch.

“you're real. i cant believe it. I've dreamed about you my whole life,” you whisper to him, voice muffled by the raindrops hitting the umbrella over your head.

“i never thought i'd actually find you in real life, it's surreal” he speaks softly too, a smile that wasn't able to be repressed appearing on his lips. “i came looking for you here because i remembered your address from the dreams. i also dreamed of you my whole life, i just… i just couldn’t keep imagining you and not being able to see you in front of me”

discreet tears run lightly down your face, and he gives you a weak smile.

"it's like all the pieces of the puzzle are finally falling into place" he says, placing his free hand on your cheek the same way you placed it on his earlier. "i don't know how to explain it, but being near you feels like coming home"

you finally crack a big smile in his direction, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes light up with it.

“i feel the same” you say, and the feeling of the rain hitting your face quickly appears.

felix lets go of the umbrella that was in his hand and snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you into a warm, tight hug.

“that's nice” he whispers in your ear, and you don't hesitate to hug him back. “because to me it feels like all my dreams came through”

skz as romantic tropes masterlist

taglist: @leeknowinggg @vumiixlyy

[prettypei]

plot: you discover their childhood photos; fluff! crack!

reader: gn! Reader

pairings: childe, diluc, kazuha, ayato

warnings: some spoilers for story quests? kinda, pre-Snezhnaya

(a/n): was flippin thru the family album when I got the idea and I 4got childe's sister's name LMAO

✰CHILDE is surprised when he hears giggling in the attic. He's visiting his old home in Snezhnaya and he invited you along with him and now he realizes there might be... a little ghost girl up there? Not quite sure. So he's relieved when he finds out it's just you and his sister, although he scared you both awfully with a baseball bat in his hand when he came up. It turned out that you were...looking at his family album? He sits down next to the both of you, looking though them too. "Hey, remember when dad used to take us fishing?" Childe asked, smiling at his sister. "Oh yeah!" She giggles, "We failed a lot, didn't we? We only came home with two fish!" Childe chuckles. "Yeah, and the look on mom's face when we tried gutting the fish ourselves." All of a sudden, he hears a howl of laughter coming from...you? "What's so funny?" He scoots over and...oh. He slams the book shut and screeches:" OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH FOR TODAY! EVERYONE HEAD DOWN!!" You're still snickering to yourself as you head down the stairs and manage to gasp weakly:" Y-you never told me you fell in the river when you were young!"

✰DILUC thinks the tavern is especially loud today, but he dismisses it. It's probably due to Kaeya's outgoing personality and your chaotic brain. However, he pauses when he sees Kaeya passing...pictures around the bar? He's a little confused at why everyone thinks it's so hilarious. He sees a knight giggling at the picture in her hand, and he snatches it out of hers and looks at it himself. His eyes widen in embarrassment as he realizes what it is: it's an old picture of him and Kaeya playing in the mud, his clothes stained as he smiled a toothy and boyish grin at the camera. You walk over to him and wave the picture in front of his face. "Oh? What's this? Bartender and serious Diluc-" "Give that back." He snaps, taking the photo from you, his face flushing a deep shade of red. "You looked so cute in them though..." You tilt your head. "What happened?" "Ha ha, very funny." Diluc rolls his eyes. "But you were cute when you were a kid babe, that I gotta say." You grin as you pinch his cheek in a playful manner. He rolls his eyes once again, but he can't hide the tiny smile that's forming on his lips.

✰KAZUHA's trying out a new melody on his leaf when he saw something flutter past him. He snatches it just in time, examining the photo. He smiles when he realizes it's a picture of him when he was a kid, barely over 10, holding his first sword. "Kaz! Did you see- oh, it's in your hand." "Indeed it is." He chuckles as he hands it to you. "Why do you have this, (name)?" "Oh, I was checking out the library in your home and I found this! I'm really sorry it almost blew away..." "At least I caught it. Did you know this was the first sword I held?" Your eyes widen in awe. "Really? But you look so young in this!" "I was, I was probably about 13 years old." "Thirteen!" Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull. "Yeah" he chuckles. "I was pretty young, wasn't I?"

✰AYATO hears a knocking on the door to this room and opens it, and he’s overjoyed when it’s you and not another merchant trying to scam him once again. “(name), darling what brings you here?” “Uh-uh-nothing.” You fail to hide the photos behind your back and ayato asks: “what are those, dear?” You sigh and confess: “Ayaka gave me these. These were childhood photos of you…I was just curious, I swear! I was going to return them to her today but…” you gesture helplessly at him. He chuckles and says “give me those.” You hand them to him and he examines them. Most of them were pictures of his achievements over the years: “winner of sword beginner competition”, “most likely to succeed”….but there was a picture of his family. He smiles at it and smiles at you. You hang your head in shame. “That’s your mom and dad isn’t it? I’m sorry that they’re gone.” He pulls your hand inside as he says “I have you as my family now, (name).”

[satoruhour]

LESSON NO. 1

a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3

wc: 2.1k

“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.

the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.

always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.

a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.

but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.

although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.

“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.

“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”

gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.

the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”

nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”

geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.

“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.

he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”

geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.

at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.

“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.

“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.

“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”

“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”

suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”

the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.

“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.

“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”

you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”

suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.

he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.

now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.

silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”

“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.

“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”

your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”

the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”

this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.

“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.

but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.

“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.

“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.

“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”

“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.

the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.

“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.

it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.

you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.

the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.

suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.

@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟

[purplew]

GUYS I HAD A VISION

qiurong hercules au

like qiangqiu as hercules and qirong as meg

TELL ME U SEE THE VISION PLS

[sweepingboy]

"General Ming Guang is doing palm reading!"

Gods surround the ruler of North giggling and shoving each other like a bunch of teens. They're hooting and hollering as they listen to old Pei's fortune telling, teasing each other. Sex, love... It seems that some topics will always bug people no matter how many centuries they lived.

Mu Qing rolls his eyes at them but keeps watching from his seat across the table as Pei Ming masterfully flirts with young goddesses clearly abusing his palm reading excuse as he brushes his lips against their delicate hands. They blush and squeak and look at the deity oh so hopefully.

Mu Qing came in terms with his fate long time ago - always in a rush he had no time to fool around. He took his vows, sharpening himself like a sword. A blade that had passed the fire of the forge and the icy waters, the singing steel praising the scarlet drops on the grim metal. Protecting attacking - he has a duty, he chose it himself 800 years ago.

He feels a tug in the ribcage as Pei Ming grabs Xie Lian's hand.

" Ho-ho!, Your Highness! I see a long and happy marriage" Ming Guang winks "death won't be enough to set you apart!" The prince blushes and laughs awkwardly placing a hand over his chest where, Mu Qing knows, the diamond ring is hidden. He clenches fists under the table the bandages digging uncomfortably into his skin.

Quietly he gets up and leaves.

Gentle wind plays with his hair as he stands in the shadows of the garden feeling like a shadow himself; frozen in his power he watches the life passing leaving him behind.

"General Xuan Zhen," familiar voice calls "may I have your hand?"

Mu Qing sighs in annoyance as steady footsteps approach him "I'm not interested, Ming Guang."

"Xuan Zhen," the other general teases " is this how you treat your elders?"

Mu Qing scoffs at him, while Pei Ming smiles charmingly. Exasperated, he lifts his hand and starts taking off the bandages slowly, arranging them into a neat roll as he does so. Inch by inch he reveals areas of burned skin - some pale pink, healing already, some still aggressively red. At least they aren't wet with ichor he thinks. He hated feeling moist cloth against his skin.

General Ming Guang takes his hand carefully.

He traces the lines gently - Mu Qing thought they wouldn't be visible at all remembering how tight was his grip on the red-hot hilt of Zhanmadao but they are even more defined like that, long curves against the puffed flesh.

"Your heart is covered in thorns."

"How original."

"Shush! You're listening to me now, young man!" "It's hard for a living creature to get through the thorn bushes."

Mu Qing rolls his eyes "It's not how you read a palm."

"Many people see it as cruel and dead" the god continues patiently "but I can see that this heart has bled enough. General you have lived many troubled years without warmth - but you know what cold is because you have something to compare it to" the younger god listens to him, as calloused bog fingers dance over the creases of his skin "This stubborn heart will do anything for those it cares about. It will endure pain, reproach, misunderstandings. I like that little guy."

"My dear Xuan Zhen," Pei Ming's thumb is gently massaging the center of the palm "you carry the most beautiful rose in your chest. A lover worthy of you should be willing to prick himself dozens of times to see it's bud. And you must be ready to let it bloom when the time comes."

"If the time comes." Mu Qing whispers.

Pei Ming calmly looks him on the eyes "When. The Heavens are full of brave men."

"Thank you general" he says quietly " I will treasure your very accurate detailed prediction."

"Sure. Want me to do your horoscope too?"

"Please spare me that honour."

Pei Ming laughs and hugs him with one hand and Mu Qing can feel a small smile forming on his lips.

[sugar-bi-scuit]

Pei Ming: Wow, Mu Qing, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

Mu Qing: We literally slept together yesterday?🤨

Pei Ming: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

[fortune-maiden]

The more I work on my long fic the more work I’m realizing it needs…

Maybe I should just take it down for now and repost it when it’s actually ready

[pey-up]

Hello! This is one of the first pieces of writing ive ever posted here, so, enjoy!

One / Divertissement

You know, lots of people look back on their teenage years in a lot of different ways. Some flush in embarrassment, remembering the crappy and stupid things they did. Some smile and laugh recalling the days of sneaking out late at night to meet up with friends. Some dream that they cherished those years more, frowning when they recollect they have bills due that week.Most people wish they could tell their ignorant, younger, more lively self something. A piece of advice.

“Don’t waste this time.”

“Love your parents, they’re not as stupid as you think.”

“Please please please for the love of God study, you cannot pass the final exam on memory alone.”

Although, that’s probably a stupid idea, as parents and adults tell children and students these messages daily. Usually they’re met with:

“The time will pass anyways.”

"You don’t know me.”

“Says you.”

So, in hindsight, it's a dumb idea.

Elora doesn’t know what her future self would tell her. Maybe she should study more? Cherish her youth more? Does it really matter? Maybe it does. Maybe it’s stupid to contemplate what her hypothetical future self would tell her, as currently she's not aware of any time machines that exist at the time. Hm. Maybe.

She approaches the stop sign, stuck deep into the dirt to avoid being blown away by the strong Pennsylvania winds to mark where the bus must stop, lest it not see her and miss her entirely, forcing her to walk all the way to school. (Despite the sign being here, this has happened multiple times.) The dirt is grossly muddy from previous rainy nights, and she's thankful for her boots for keeping her socks dry. Elora takes out her clunky headphones and clicks play, music flowing and dancing in the rain. The crisp sound fills her ears, melodically keeping her mind occupied with the lyrics, studying them and wondering what the meaning behind the words may be.

Eventually, finally, the faded yellow bus arrives, its wheels mucky and the color has grown faint from the passing years. The arm automatically swings open, presenting the stop sign to the cars passing, splashing the water at them. The doors scrunch together and allow her to step inside, so she does. In spite of the lack of a heating system it’s significantly warmer on the bus, wind no longer playing a factor in the chill that goes down her spine. The bus is usually quite empty- thank God- so she sits all on her lonesome.

After a long, and generally uneventful ride to school, students file out, Elora following suit. Unexciting, uninteresting, monotonous, unchanging, tedious, dull, synonyms of the sort are all definitely applicable to the day. (If one could call it that, the sun hasn’t even risen yet, and here were dozens of kids and adults alike up and ready.) Really, it’s unmemorable. Well, it would’ve been, if three strikingly different dressing teenagers weren’t squealing over something. One of the eccentric kids in the trio waves Elora over excitedly, resting her back on the wall.

“El! El! Over here!”

“I know you’re over here. This is where we meet daily. I’d be more surprised if nobody was here,” She replies, the inflection in her voice lacking flair.

“Well I didn’t want you to miss us!” Says Paige Madden, one of Elora's dear friends since the 6th grade (Paige and Elora both didn’t have anybody for a partner project, so Ms. Barlow put the two together. This event happened every time there was partner work, and they ended up agreeing that working together would be easiest.) Paige’s curly, dark hair fell into her eyes, always making Elora wonder how the girl could see where she was going. Although, it could be to blame for Paige’s clumsiness.

“What were you yelling about over here, anyways..? Did something bad happen?” She tilts her head, looking behind Paige at the other two trying to solve the mystery of their squeals. “Something good?”

“Edgar has a friend!” She points to the man himself, sitting on a ledge, allowing his legs to dangle off. He nods his head to them, cradling something in his hands. Elora takes a few steps close, curious as to what the ‘friend’ may be. She mentally decides in the moment that she’s going to murder Ed if he has a snake, and one of them gets bit. He notices Elora getting closer and leans forward, showing her.

“Don’t be scared, she bites,” He says with a smile, his necklaces clinking against each other like poor music.

"Don’t you mean she doesn’t bite?”

“No, no she bites. Nothing to be afraid of though, you know, unless you are.”

“Well said, Shakespeare.” Edgar chuckles a bit and moves his hand, cupping the small creature to show Elora. It’s a small ball of fluff, making high-pitched twittering sounds as its long narrow snout. Her eyebrows furrow, squinting at it.“Where did you find a shrew..?”

“Don’t even worry about it,” He says with a small smile, holding his little friend. “Her name is… Rue.”

“Oh, I like it!”

“What does it mean?”

“Adorable, obviously.”

“I mean. It doesn’t. You’re wrong,” Elora narrows her eyes, looking at the itty bitty creature.

“Well what does it mean then?”

“Uh- I don’t know?”

Edgar smiles. “Then how do you know I’m wrong?”

“Because it’s you.”

Edgar laughs a bit, the sound like honey, and turns back to his small friend. He and Paige begin talking about how he’s going to take care of it (and realizing not one of the three have any clue what Rue could feasibly eat.). The chattering lack of conversation, at least one directed at her, let her mind wander for just a moment. Her eyes traced the school walls, posters advertising events and clubs that sound interesting if she had the motivation to actually make a commitment. No clubs for her.

Paige always insisted Elora join one, despite her not belonging to one either. To be entirely fair she had her fair share of hobbies anyways. Sewing, knitting, crocheting, things she insists are completely different, no matter how similar they are.Elora however doesn’t have those things.

Yeah, she listens to music, but that's not a hobby, that's just something she does.She thinks she should find the definition of “hobby”.

Learning new words isn’t a hobby, it’s just something she does.

[ryattcos]

i have finally finished tgcf and can give better opinion of some of my favorite characters.

xie lian- my baby! i love him. he must be protected at all costs. but also…. he kinda hot when he goes all martial god…. that’s all i’m saying. also, i love that even though he’s unlucky, he’s highly perceptive of things and people around him. he notices things. i want to give squishmallows.

hua cheng- plz let me tell him that he’s worthy. plz let me tell him he matters. my god, this man needs more softness in his life. so much suffering. give him squishmallows too! he would appreciate soft stuff too!

feng xin- a likable, dependable labrador. he is simply a good man and a good body guard. he follows his orders to a t and tries to do things the right way.

mu qing- just a bitch. an understandable bitch, but like… a bitch. i think he is a complex character and i loved when he was talking to xie lian abs being vulnerable he was able to admit his feelings were complex and messy. i couldn’t be in the same room as him. but i get it.

shi qingxuan- oh, my absolute favorite gender-fluid icon. thank you! they are such a true friend to xie lian and over all give me comfortable and safe vibes. they would listen to you vent, and they would judge you but they wouldn’t hold it against you.

pei ming- i think general fuckboi is an outstanding character. i think he would absolutely ignore me. i love that even though he’s a whore, he’s up front about it. the slutification of pei mingvis the only thing i’m here for right now. he definitely needs more respect women juice, but he has solid potential.

lang qianqiu- he gives me pretty boy vibes. idk what it is, but he gives me “better than thou” for most of the story. he does redeem himself once he has had his revenge, so like, i get it.

quan yizhen- he is a great dane. giant, floppy, goofy. could break through the wall like the koolaid man. he reminds me of a colt. like a young horse. horse people will get that one.

jun wu- mommy milkers and morality don’t go hand in hand unfortunately. so the biggest tits award also goes to the biggest fuck ass award. cuz holy trauma llama…

i’m sure i’ll have more thoughts but these are just the ones off the top of my head. bed time ramblings if you will.

[soapy-soartp]

Completely forgot to post these here but here my work for the TGCF gotcha event on twitter!

Prompt 1: SFW, not romantic: Miraculously, Pei Xiu gets a hold of a watermelon! He runs to share the refreshing fruit with Ban Yue, escaping for a moment from the heat of the desert and the bitterness of war. Submitted by yabancreations

[winterskywrites]

Xie Lian has never felt attraction towards anyone like he feels for Hua Cheng. Unfortunately, the god he goes to for advice might have too much experience with it to be helpful.

[writingpei]

bangchan | 방찬, best friends to lovers

you and chan have been friends since diapers. your parents worked together and developed a great friendship, which made possible such an early contact between the two of you that extended throughout your childhood, and then adolescence. 

chan was always a very affectionate and kind boy, it was in his blood, whenever it was late and night was already hanging over the sky, he always walked you to the door of your house even if he was busy, or when you forgot your lunch at home, some snacks would magically appear on your school desk after break. 

the connection between the two of you didn't go unnoticed by those around you, who listened to the laughter whenever you two were talking, or witnessed the study sessions you had together in the library. it wasn't uncommon for some to get confused and think you were dating, and the idea always brought a strange feeling to the pit of your stomach and the urge to deny it was almost always immediate, like a reflex. he also denied these rumors when someone asked him about them with an embarrassed smile and a shrug.

the only problem with all this is when something started to go wrong in chan's head. those rumors stopped going in one ear and out the other, and began to linger in his mind for longer than he would have liked, clouding his thoughts. it all started when you were laughing at a joke he told and a lock of hair fell in front of your eyes and he had to fight himself not to reach up and pull it away. instead, he just scratched his neck and tried to think of something else, but the weird thoughts didn't stop there, unfortunately for him. another of several days where you forgot your lunch arrived, and he wasted no time in buying your favorite from the cafeteria and leaving it on your table. for some reason, you were happier than usual when you saw the snack on the table and you didn't hesitate to give him a hug right away and that just left an unwanted pink in his face and turned him into a mess, causing him to stutter so badly he had to hide in the bathroom for an entire class.

chan thought he was going crazy. he couldn't destroy the friendship you've built for so long, the intimacy you've gained, the memories you've gathered together. he needed to get back to normal, when his heart didn't leap in his chest every time he saw you and his cheeks didn't heat up from the smallest of touches you gave him.

pacing his room, thinking and thinking and thinking some more, he came to the conclusion that he thought he would fix what was broken in a moment lost in the past: he would have to get away from you, get away for as long as it took for that weird feeling to die inside his chest. just that way he wouldn't screw up and lose you and your friendship. and his heart broke the next day when you went to talk to him and he was tough and clear, objectively answering anything you asked without an ounce of emotion beyond what was necessary. the smile fading across your face proved that you noticed things were different but didn't understand why.

this dynamic continued longer than either of you would have liked, but chan was determined. being alone made him more in touch with his feelings than ever, and on top of that, understanding them better and better. if it was idolatry, he was sick, if it was infatuation, he was screwed. he knew you never would correspond, not because you didn't admire him, but because it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he was the one in the wrong, treading forbidden territory, biting more than he could chew.

the days have been endless since this mess started. it's been two weeks since chan hasn't spoken to you properly. you hardly ever saw him in the halls in his spare time, he never texted first, he just curtly replied to whatever you sent him, and he was also never available when you called his house phone and his mom answered, since whenever you called his cellphone your calls were promptly declined.

you couldn't wrap your finger around what he was hiding, but you sure would find out.

everyone was already noticing your sudden separation, from your parents to the nosy people at school, but no one wanted to know the truth of what was going on as much as you did. saying you were going insane was an understatement; you had a best friend, and overnight there was only a stranger left, someone who seems afraid of you, who hides and fears your touch. he was indescribably missing from your life, a gap in your existence, a missing part of your body.

walking through the streets, everything reminded you of him. in the eternal conversations between you and your brain, several jokes blossomed that you wanted nothing more than to tell him. the day your mother made his favorite meal thinking he was going to have lunch at your house was one of the hardest days of all, and the appetite was completely ripped out of you and there was only a silent emptiness inside your chest.

however, one of the things you missed the most was his warmth, his radiant smile, his comfortable embrace, the kind and attentive look that always took care of you in the most mundane things, and it was only in his absence that this became more visible. you opened your notebook containing several theories that justified chan having gone mia on you, but none made sense. if you had upset him, he would have talked to you, he was always the mature type. if he just didn't enjoy your company, it wouldn't take him years to figure it out, he wasn't stupid. you just couldn't understand what you had done wrong for him to end your friendship.

you got tired of expecting something from him and decided to take matters into your own hands, and that's why you're on his porch on a friday night, knocking on the door and trying to control the trembling in your hands. when his mother opens the door, a smile immediately appears on her lips when she sees you.

"miss bang, is chan home? I need to talk to him"

"of course, dear. you never showed up again, I was getting worried. now he just stays locked in his room all day and doesn't tell me what happened. it's been difficult weeks" she replies now more disappointed, giving room for you to enter the house. home you already know so well.

"i'll do my best to talk to him, miss bang" and you walk up the stairs you've already climbed hundreds of times, but never with that bubbling in your stomach and the constant fear that you're making a mistake. maybe he just doesn't like you and you're invading his space, crossing his boundaries.

for a second, standing outside his bedroom door, you seriously consider going home and pretending it never happened, but you need answers.

you promised yourself that if he really just didn't want to be your friend anymore, you'd let him be free, but not before you knew what this was all about. it was unfair to you too.

when your arm slowly started to lift to knock on the door, it swung open from the other side, and now you were face to face with chan.

"hey" he couldn't get away from you in his own house, and that brought you a wave of comfort.

he was taken aback, mouth opening and closing not knowing what to say. you simply push him back into the room and close the door behind, watching him walk away from you as if he got caught redhanded.

"let's talk" you say, running one hand over the other looking for the right words to condense everything you've felt in the last two weeks, the loneliness and, mainly, the confusion. you at the very least needed to know what you had done to make him leave you like he did.

in the middle of the endless sea of ​​words, full dictionaries, indescribable feelings, the only thing you managed to get out of your throat was a painful "why?"

he just blinked and didn’t respond, settling by looking at his shoes like he did everytime he was embarrassed about something. 

“please tell me why, that’s all i ask of you” you pleaded, walking in his direction. you would not let him fade away this time. “if you hate me, just tell me. if i did something wrong, throw it on my face so i can apologise. if you never want to see me again, scream at me to leave. anything but your silence, i’m done with it, i’ve had enough” you felt tears sinking in your eyes, taking long, careful steps towards chan as if he was going to disappear at any moment.

“look at me” you pleaded, in front of him.

it took a few seconds for his gaze to reach your eyes, let alone for him to say anything. you just stood like that, facing each other, looking into each other's eyes, a broken connection. if you once had your own dialect, now you can't even claim to know your best friend anymore.

“i don’t hate you…” he manages to blurt out as if speaking brings him physical pain. “i obviously don’t hate you”

“than why did you leave me?” you wasted no time in demanding, cheeks growing hot from distress. he only breathed out, running a hand through his hair. 

“i… do you really want to know?” he asked.

“i’ve wanted nothing more. please, tell me”

“hum…” he looks down, back at his feet, but this time you won’t let him. you bring your hands to his cheeks and force him to look into your eyes once again, and he gets petrified by your action. 

his glossy eyes now lock onto yours with a new intensity, you can feel the heat of his cheeks in your palms and his lips part in awe. second goes, second comes, and none dare to move. chan seems entranced by the proximity of their faces and all the progress he believed he had made in trying to quell the fire that burned in his heart every time the memory of you treacherously crossed his mind went to waste, and there, at that moment, he could only think of one thing.

“i adore you”

silence fills the room once again, however, now he comes back to his senses and the contact between yours skins is lost in a matter of seconds. he sits on the bed completely defeated, head in his hands, shame taking over his complex.

"i adore you and that's the problem" he says.

"i adore you too, i don't understand how this..." you start, sitting down next to him in exasperation. you couldn't let him close off so soon after you just had him in your hands.

“no, no you don’t because that is not what i’m talking about” he says, and you once again reach for him, aching to feel his skin in yours once again after so long. 

“then tell me, please” you ask, grabbing his wrists and turning him towards you once again, getting closer each second, almost like you want to merge with him. 

“i like you” you don't have words in your tongue ready to leak out for the first time during the conversation. you just blink once, twice, trying to understand if this is a dream or bare reality. his hands creep up through your arms, snaking around your hands and keeping them in place around his face. now he was the one making sure you didn’t run away. you had already said too much, now it was his turn to put everything that dominated him out, a spare of freedom in the light at the end of the tunnel. if you hated him, he just wanted you to tell him that. if he did something wrong, he just wanted you to throw it in his face so he could apologize. if you never wanted to see him again, he just wanted you to scream at him to leave. “i really, really, really like you and it’s driving me nuts”

you breathed in and out, feeling dizzy. not a single thought however made you want to let go of him, you just grabbed him tightly, his soft skin on yours overwhelming you and giving you a sense of safety you haven’t experienced for a while.

“i just couldn’t bare the idea of destroying our friendship because of something so silly. i couldn’t see you leave because of me, i simply couldn’t. it would crush me too much” he sighed. “so i ran away first. i’m sorry, i’m a coward. it was so selfish of me, i can’t apologise enough for what i did. you didn’t deserve this, i should have told you as soon as…”

“you are spiraling” you interrupted, hands gently traveling from the warmth of his cheeks to the softness of his hair, slowly descending to the nape of his neck and intertwining themselves. “i understand you were scared to tell me, i understand your motives” you simply said. he kept waiting for what else you had to say, but you were completely out of it, your mind was somewhere else, trying to understand the magnificent set that his eyes, nose and lips created on his face, a work of art that needs to be appreciated up close.

you always had a crush on chan, which made you so out of place when someone implied they were anything but friends, because that kind of assumption put you in a role you couldn't play, because he could never look at you in the same way.

or could he?

“don’t you hate me? i’m a shitty friend” he asked, visibly nervous, which made his mouth twitch in a way that made you never want to know so much how they would stack up against yours. and that's exactly what you do.

it's poetry the way your noses touch lightly on the way for the kiss to happen, which is as sweet as one can imagine. the secrets of youthful love locked behind unspoken words and kept secrets, released by the kiss that destroys doubts and rebuilds what was lost. his hair is like silk under your touch, and you truly believe your hearts would be beating at exactly the same time at that moment. he was quiet for once, and his breath was finally steady. nothing you could ever say would make him believe your feelings as much as a kiss, and it's when his arms go around you that you know the loyalty he deposits in you.

after a few seconds of foreheads pressed together and a shy hug, you can't help but let go “you are right, you were a really shitty friend by the way” and you wish you could be totally consumed by the heartfelt laugh he lets out.

skz as romantic tropes

[prettypei]

plot: satosugu bf headcanons (seperately); fluff!

reader: gn! Reader

parings: highschool! geto, gojo

warnings:none?? I don’t think so

(a/n): SUGURU ON THE MIND!!!! esp after that new ep gawd damn

✰GOJO

HES SUCH A LOSER BF

like you knew it from the way he asked you out

he planned to ask you out by making a cake that said "date me?" on it

he thought it was romantic

but gojo srsly cant cook

he even though he really likes sweets he cant even fry an egg so the cake turned out something like... imagine the worst cake possible with frosting everywhere and the message on top of the cake is unreadable and the cake is a weird brown color? yeah its like that

you agreed to go out with him anws

if you ever get in a fight hes definitely pullin up to fight with you, no matter how wrong you are

"cats are dogs" "yea they're basically animals so they're the same!"

will ask to copy homework EVERY. SINGLE TIME.

he claims that he trusts you like you grades vould be going downhill and he would still borrow urs

is the type of person to accidentally copy the name too

such a virgin everyone says he's a major f-boy but in reality he has never felt another person touch him romantically

he gives you goofy grins whenever he does sth stupid (and when he does it's mostly bc he wants to see you laugh)

calls you the most ridiculous pet names "sugar bby pookie bear"

also likes referring to you as candies like he called you liquorice one time???

has a habit of applying lip gloss... like A LOT.

"can I kiss u babe" "yeah lemme put on lip gloss rq" *proceedes to spend 10 whole minutes smacking his lips and applying lip gloss*

really big on pda hes suuupperrrr into it, but he'll tone it down if you're uncomfortable

if ur into it tho? he kisses you every two secs

TAKES THE WORST DATING ADVICE EVER FROM THE TRIO

"guys where shld I bring (name) on a date?" "Bring her to a sewer, that way they'll be scared and hug you."-geto "idk a therapist?"-shoko (in the end you were just grossed out, but he somehow makes it sweet and wholesome at the same time?)

✰GETO

he texts you a lot of memes (I'm sure this is widely agreed throughout the fandom lol)

doesn't hug you a lot in public but he does wrap his arm around your shoulder

he wouldn't be reallyyyy affectionate but if you are he'll accept your hugs with a little smile

he likes my melody more than kuromi

his love language is quality time, sometimes you'll spend dates just lounging out on the couch and doing nothing. However, he thinks it's much nicer than just being by himself

really great memory, he notices those small details about you that no one else does, or even the ones you're unaware of like when you always fold a napkin when you're at a restaurant yk hes cute like that

asks the weirdest questions ever: "do you think I'm a squirrel or a chipmunk?" respond with "I think you're an idiot" QUICK!!!

he gets super moody when his hair ties are missing, he has a whole bag of them at his dorm

allows you to give him silly hairstyles when he's sleepin <3

loves truth or dare and 20 questions

has a weird obsession with puzzles and he likes it if he’s piecing one together with you

he also gets competitive without knowing. Like even with you if you guys are at an arcade and you win him at basketball hoops he’s bitter

”let’s do it again I was not ready” “you said that 5 times and I still won” “NO”

he believes in astrology stuff

is more emotionally attracted to people than physically

he may come off as cold but he just doesn’t express as much as gojo

he sometimes paints (mostly watercolor) and a lot of them are of you or are inspired by you <333

MY POOKIE!!! Free my man he did nothing wrong!!!!

[shxrpshxoter]

Pei Ming being the #1 hualian shipper will forever be one of the most hilarious things in tgcf

[ferocioustrout]

I’m about to be really controversial here but I really hated helluva boss. hazbin hotel was kinda better though

[lavendersblues]

More “Xie Lian manages to raise Banyue and Pei Xiu” AU’s please