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azsazz · 4 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 5)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4,069

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Masterlist]

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“All I’m saying is that I think he’s pretty cute,” Feyre scoffs, defensively.

Since you’d moved in, it seems as though your entire life revolves around the boys living next door.

While you’d finally gotten the sleep you deserved last night, something had felt…off. The other side of the wall was almost too quiet as you lay in the darkness, still awaiting sleep to take you in its hold, even though your body had been aching for sleep for so long. All night, there wasn’t a peep from the asshole sharing the wall. You knew it had to be Az living on the other side, there was no way in fucking hell that it wasn’t, but the lack of music blaring through the walls felt like a dream, almost.

You shoved the thoughts from your mind in the early hours of the morning, hastily getting ready for your day. Your first day of classes, and you wouldn’t let him ruin even that. Now, the sun shines brightly on you and Feyre as you walk to your first class of the day, Drawing 201.

You had made your schedules match up as much as they could. With Feyre being an art student as well, she had declared her major in oil painting, whereas you aren’t sure what medium you’d like to get into. All you know is that there’s something drawing you towards the arts, and thankfully, you still have time to take electives and try new classes to see if anything sticks.

The only classes you hadn’t been able to take together were your non-art related ones. Feyre seems to know exactly what her path is in life, minoring in business because she wants to open a gallery one day and figured having an understanding of what goes into owning her own business would be helpful.

You, on the other hand, had opted for a creative writing class to fulfill that requirement for your college degree. It is a semester filled with imagination and artistry, searching for that missing piece of your soul, trying to find it along the way.

Feyre has her drawing pad tucked under an arm as she walks. Yours is held in a similar fashion, the obnoxiously large pad of paper bigger than your torso. Her golden-brown hair is tied back into a loose bun that she makes look effortless. If you were to try and recreate the same hairstyle, you’d look like a rat. She’s clad in a plain t-shirt and jeans, simple for the balmy weather, not wanting to wear something nicer only to have charcoal and paints splashed over it by the end of the day.

The two of you had been talking about your neighbors, having seen one of them driving off in his vintage car that somehow always seemed to be parked outside of the building. Its paint was red and rusted, metal rotting through. You weren’t even sure that the car was in running condition, but it gave a splutter of black smoke as he rolled away and you wondered if it would make it the few blocks down to campus.

It was the last roommate, the one you don’t know the name of. He’s large and bulky, muscles seeming to nearly split the seams of any shirt he covered his torso with. The one who had seemed to be the least volatile, that is, until he shut the door in your face for the final time that dreadful night.

The building is old, but the classroom is spacious and drab. Concrete floors adorned with paint that hadn’t come off, dried clay chipping into dust, the room shared with many different classes working with many different mediums. The white walls brighten the room, the sun casting through the windows bouncing off of it and creating intriguing lighting to work with. Art horses are lined up in a circle, surrounding a mattress with a navy blue sheet spread across its lumpy surface. It smells of both paint and graphite, the scent comforting as a part of you settles, shoulders relaxing as you revel in it.

Accustomed to the setup, you realize that you’re going to be jumping right into the class and will be drawing today. Last year, the most memorable moment in your first life drawing class ever was the oldest man you’ve ever seen being the nude model. Of course, that was the day that your professor had each student drawing a close-up of a specific part of the model’s body, and you’d so luckily gotten to draw his low-hanging, wrinkly balls. Lovely.

You shudder as the memory resurfaces, following Feyre to a seat. You drop your bag to the floor, setting up your own sketchpad, before pulling out the necessary materials you’ll be needing for class.

You roll your eyes in response to her statement. “I didn’t say they weren’t cute, I said that they’re assholes.” Despite your quiet night, you can’t help but wonder about Az, thinking about his brooding nature and stupidly charming face as you drifted off to sleep in the loud quiet of your room.

Students trickle in one by one. A group of girls stride in, laughing about something that happened at a bar over their weekend. Another girl follows, but it’s clear that she isn’t in their group. She’s pretty, with chic, ice blue glasses perched on her button nose, her striking white hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

Your attention shifts to the boy that follows her in, and your jaw almost drops.

He’s handsome—no, he’s much more than that, you just can’t formulate the words twisting your thoughts and tongue into knots. Maybe after your creative writing class you’d be able to describe his sheer beauty. He has the most luxurious copper hair you’ve ever seen. It cascades across his broad shoulders, a braid on either side, caressing his face. He’s tall, too, an entire head—maybe even more—taller than the white-haired girl he’s bounding behind. His straight nose is flecked with freckles and his fox-shaped face is utterly devastating.

When his gaze finds yours, you feel as though you’re pinned to the art horse beneath you. He has one russet eye, and the other is golden. You want to commit it to memory, curse yourself for not bringing your colored pencils, stare right into those very eyes until you’ve gotten each stroke of his iris’ perfect. He’s mesmerizing, and the closer he moves, you start to make out the fine scar that slashes through that gold eye and his eyebrow above. It’s his only flaw, but only adds to his intimidating aura.

“Hi,” he greets, sliding into the empty seat next to you. You have to look up at him, even sitting, and something in your stomach stirs. “I’m Lucien.”

“(Y/N),” you respond numbly, thrown by his beauty. He’s wearing a loose button-up in the color moss, dark trousers, and even nicer shoes. He doesn’t look anything like an art student. Law, maybe. “Nice to meet you.”

You fumble with your art case as he holds out his hand for you to shake. Cheeks heating, you give him a bashful smile, sliding your hand into his. It’s warm, encapsulating the entirety of your own, and the longer your hand sits in his, the wider his pleasant smile becomes. “You as well,” he responds, then leans over to introduce himself to Feyre. With your back to him, you give her an ‘oh my gods, look how gorgeous he is’ look, and she responds with an elbow to your side, acknowledging that she sees just how gorgeous he is.

This year is determined to kill you, with all of the handsome men you’ve seen so far. Lucien maybe even more so, with how delightful he already is.

You can hardly even remember what you were conversing with Feyre about now that Lucien has entered the room. You couldn’t even remember if one of your neighbors waltzed right into the roo—

Fuck.

Of fucking course.

It’s the one roommate you don’t know the name of. The one who’d been driving away when you and your roommate left for campus this morning, waltzing into the room as if he owns the place.

His frame takes up the entire doorway, and you find yourself wondering if that’s his thing. Precious Azzy’s is being loud, Rhys’ is that forked tongue of his, and this one’s is filling any space with his massive body.

He enters the room with a swagger that has all of the girls swooning, carefree and confident. He oozes masculinity, barrel chested and tall. You didn’t know that he was in this class, though. When Rhys has said that they were juniors, you thought they’d be in the 300 classes, not 200s.

Now might be as good a time as ever to ask, though, because his hazel gaze sparks in recognition when he glances your way, and he beelines over to you.

“Well, hello there ladies,” he greets with a seemingly genuine smile. He had been the nicest of the three when you and Feyre had almost knocked their door clean from its hinges, but he had also shut the door on you. Plus, with your not-so-great experiences with his roommates, your body is tense, prepared for the worst. “You’re taking this class?”

Feyre takes the bait on this one, and you’re well aware that Lucien is listening in, despite the fact that he’s pulled his satchel into his lap and is unloading his own supplies. “Yeah, it’s required for sophomores. Are you in it as well?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a sinful smile. Wolfish, almost. “You could say that.” You open your mouth to speak but he’s turning towards Lucien, smile broadening into something practically wicked, sticking his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Cassian, man. Nice to meet you.”

“Lucien,” he replies politely, though you don’t miss the slight grimace on his face when Cassian clenches his fingers in his own. You smother a laugh because Cassian looks like he could break all of the bones in Lucien’s hand with just a little more pressure if he wanted to.

The trifecta is complete. You finally have all three names, though you only know Az through his nicknames alone. Or maybe his name is Azzy. Maybe that’s why he’s so grumpy all of the time.

Whatever. You don’t care.

After introducing yourself and Feyre to Cassian, he leans in closer. He smells earthy, like freshly turned dirt and smoked wood. It reaches out to you like roots in the ground, and it’s refreshing, to say the least.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” he starts, and you nearly recoil. You were expecting him to come in here with the arrogance his roommates seem to share, not this sincere politeness dripping from his words. His hazel eyes are earnest as you inspect him, his soft smile a touch guilty, if anything. “It’s just that I’ve got to side with my roommates. You can understand that, right?”

“You don’t even know what he did,” you answer, trying not to grumble. Your brows are pinched and you watch Cassian take note of that. Az had been a complete prick for no reason, and that’s just not cool in your books.

Cassian winces, dropping back an inch or two. His voice is low, more of a whisper than you thought someone of his size would be able to make. “It’s not really my place to say, but Azriel had had a rough day. And no, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but you did threaten to tow his bike, and he doesn’t take that lightly. But hey, it had nothing really to do with me, so I’m willing to look past it if you are.”

Azriel. Aa full name to a face and well, it kind of suits him. The angel of death. A shiver wracks your spine.

With that permanent scowl, he certainly looks the part.

And, this isn’t the apology you expected, but it’s a truce, a peace offering between neighbors. Maybe, if you accept, Cassian will be able to pass along the message of ‘shut the fuck up after midnight’ to Azriel.

You share a look with Feyre, contemplating. It seems as though she’s thinking similarly to you because she smiles up at Cassian, agreeing. “We’d love that.”

Cassian beams, straightening to his full height. Fuck, he’s huge.

He looks as if he may say something more, but the professor enters the room and calls his name. He shoots you and Feyre a cheeky grin. “That’s me,” he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll come get your numbers after class. Try not to enjoy it too much, ladies.” With a wink, he turns, gliding across the room with an ease someone built like a brick wall should have.

Your eyes follow him as he stalks towards the teacher, all grins and positivity. Maybe he isn’t like his broody, rude roommates. The teacher asks him something and he’s nodding along as if he’s done this before and is being reminded of what’s expected of him for this class. He roots around in the bag slung over his shoulder and pulls something out as he makes his way towards the door. Maybe he’s not enrolled in your class and only needed to speak to the professor?

“Welcome to Drawing 201,” the professor greets, clapping her hands together to gain the attention of the room. The murmurs soften as she speaks, students ready to have their talents molded by her intelligence. “My name is Ms. Woods, but you can call me Alis.”

You don’t miss Cassain slipping back into the room as Alis walks you through warm up exercises and best practices for the class. Your fingers are already coated with charcoal from where you’d roughly outlined shapes of Feyre’s body for warm ups. The curves on your paper become more and more fluid as you get into the familiar motions of drawing.

“What do you think he’s doing here?” you murmur to Feyre, still watching where Cassian is crouched low as if he wouldn’t be able to hear the professor from his full height. While you’re turned this way, you catch Lucien peeking at you over his shoulder for a fleeting moment, and before your gaze can snag his, he’s turning back to his own work.

Feyre shrugs, studying the lines of your face. “You don’t think he’s the—”

“This is Cassian,” Alis interrupts, stealing your attention from your roommate and your drawing. It’s nothing more than a mess of rough shapes, looking nothing like her at all, but you’re trusting the process. Only a minute's time isn’t long enough for more than that.

Cassian is no longer wearing his loose jeans and tight t-shirt. Instead, he dons a thick, gray robe. The fabric doesn’t nearly drape far enough down, his gloriously tanned and muscular legs on full display, showing off an intricate tattoo from his knees, creeping up underneath the fabric. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, following the lines of muscle all the way up as Alis continues, “He’s going to be our model for the day.”

You’re not the only one who chokes at the news. Girls and guys alike are blushing in their seats, and Cassian can hardly contain the smug smirk threatening to split his face in two. He winks over at you and Feyre who share a wide-eyed look. Lucien scoffs lightly, and your jaw snaps shut, pink heating your cheeks as well.

You busy yourself by flipping to a new page in your pad. It’s crisp and white, not at all as interesting as you’re trying to make it seem as you avoid Cassian’s mirth-filled stare. You smooth the paper with your hand, and it’s shaking slightly with anticipation. Your new neighbor who’s just offered a truce, and you’re already going to be seeing him naked.

Would it have been weirder to be mad at him and stare at his naked form, or now, when a ceasefire has been declared and you’re somewhat on the road to becoming friends?

You don’t have the chance to think further on it because Cassian moves into the circle towards the lone mattress on the floor as Alis explains how the time spent in class is going to be divided. There will be a few three minute sketching sessions where you are to get down as much of his form as you can, while Cassian continuously changes poses. Following that, there will be two fifteen minute sessions, a break, and a final longer session where you’ll focus more on detail than form.

He slides out of his shoes, and you swallow roughly as he undoes the ties to his robe. Thankfully, he’s not looking at you, watching your intent gaze pinned to his tanned skin. The fabric slides from his broad shoulders, down, exposing the muscles of his back. The less fabric that shows, the more tattoos you see, covering both arms and licking across his chest. His waist pulls in tight and you have to bite your lip to hold back a noise in the completely silent room. Rippling muscles line his body, corded and thick in all of the right places. You can’t help it, staring unabashed because he’s turned away from you, your eyes falling from the inky whorls of tattoos across his shoulders, down through the cavern of the muscle lining his spine, all the way down to his tight ass.

All of the students are entrapped by his beauty, as if he’s aphrodite reincarnated. Two dimples poke in the base of his spine that you want to lean forward and dip your tongue into, but then he’s shifting a little and his cock is on full display.

The stick of charcoal in your fingers snaps in half.

You hope you get that facing you for the few hours you’ll be here.

Next to you, Lucien tuts under his breath, but even he can’t seem to look away from the Greek God standing before you.

Alis instructs Cassian into his first pose and then addresses the class. “Alright, your time begins now.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

You don’t know how you’re able to focus on anything other than the cock draped so prettily across his abdomen.

Cassian looks as relaxed as ever, splayed out across the blue sheet on the mattress, one arm tucked beneath his head, eyes shut, and breathing even as if he might have actually fallen asleep.

With the late nights you know he and his roommates tend to have, you wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

You lose yourself in the quiet of the classroom, nothing but the sounds of long strokes or chalk against paper, the scratch of quick sharp lines being drawn. There’s the occasional murmur of advice or comments from Alis as she makes her rounds, weaving through students spread throughout the room.

Drawing the contours of his muscle is no easy feat. Packed layer upon layer from years or hard work spent in the gym, you rub the dark soot into your drawing pad. It’s calming, sweeping the charcoal over the white space to create shadows the lighting paints across his body.

His tattoos take some effort, even though Alis had said not to worry about those, that getting his form down was more important, but you can’t help yourself. You’ve always been interested in people’s tattoos and the stories behind them, the significance or lack thereof for some, despite having none of your own. You draw them with an extra care, trying your best not to make up reasons as to why he might have them. Now that you’re going to be on friendly terms, maybe you can ask him the meaning behind them yourself.

Eventually, Alis’ timer goes off, the ringtone the same as your phone, and for a fleeting moment your body reacts as if it’s your own alarm going off, a slight twist in your stomach as your body locks for a moment. You put down your chunk of charcoal as Cassian sits up, dusting your fingers off and admiring your drawing, comparing it to the model once more before he tugs on his robe.

Feyre stands to stretch, her back popping as she twists around. You wipe the soot from your hands on a cloth and grab your water bottle, the crisp water wetting your parched throat.

Lucien leans over, copper hair cascading over his shoulder and almost brushing your arm in the process. You wouldn’t mind, it looks silky smooth and the smell of his hair oil makes you want to lean in a little closer. He studies your work as you drink and eventually, with a smirk, says, “You have quite an eye for detail.”

You splutter and he bites his pink lip, trying to smother his smile. He gives you the most innocent look he can muster, but he doesn’t know that you have a retort on the tip of your tongue, just as soon as you stop choking.

“You sound a little bit jealous there, Lucien.”

Feyre laughs and he gapes dramatically, “Maybe, a little.”

You can’t help but to chuckle at his antics, the rest of your classmates packing up around you. Cassian’s disappeared from the room already, probably in the restroom changing, and you wonder if he’ll be back for your number like he promised.

In the meantime, you pack your things away, stuffing your extra chalks of charcoal back into your case, along with your cloth and kneaded eraser. You feel confident in the work you’ve done today, so with a last glance at your drawing, you flip your pad shut, taking Feyre’s for her and walking with Lucien to stash them in the assigned drawer you and Feyre share.

“So, are you an art major?” you ask, waiting for the crowd around the shelves to dissipate a little.

He cuts you a suspicious look, but it’s playful. “You didn’t get a glimpse of my drawing, did you? I suppose I can’t blame you with a model looking like that, but it’s entirely awful,” he states, and you stare up at him in disbelief.

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” you argue, and his lips thin a little as he flips open his drawing pad just enough for only you to see. It’s difficult to hold in the laugh trying to burst from your throat.

Lucien winces but a puff of laughter follows that makes your shoulders ease. “I told you it was shit, your face only confirmed it!”

There’s no coming back from this one, so you decide to play into it.

“Okay, it’s not great, but I’ve definitely seen worse. You should’ve seen my stuff from last year.”

Lucien rolls his eyes, stepping forward in line. “Oh, I’m sure it was nothing like the gorgeous drawing you’ve managed to pull out of your ass in two hours today,” he scoffs, and you elbow him in the arm gently. “Your drawing literally looks like a photograph!”

It doesn’t, but your cheeks heat at his compliment anyway.

“I might’ve been doing this a little longer than you have,” you defend. Since you could hold a crayon, to be exact.

He huffs, stuffing his pad into a drawer and offering to help you with yours and Feyres. He pulls your drawer open and you slide the pads inside, stepping out of the way so others can crowd him as he closes up and follows you back to your seats. “Well, then you might have to help me out, because I thought that taking a few drawing classes would help me with my renderings for architecture, but those are all straight lines and circles and this is all curved lines and cock.”

You can’t help but laugh this time, leaning over your horse to pack away the rest of your supplies. Feyre’s all ready to go, face buried in her phone as she texts someone, fingers tapping quickly on the screen.

“You know, if you remove yourself from what you’re looking at, this is all just lines and circles too.”

Lucien slings his satchel over his shoulder, staring down at you with those mesmerizing eyes that shine when he speaks. “Would you want to explain that further sometime, over coffee perhaps?”

You’re a little shocked by his bluntness, but you grin and nod nonetheless. “I’d like that.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @vellichor01 @hirah-yummar @girl-who-writes-stuff @lees-chaotic-brain @konaanaria13 @emiler-love @yourdorkiness @azrielsstarlight

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #midnight muse #art school au #azriel au #tattoo arstist!azriel

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issacballsac · 9 months

Text

“Being Apart of The Sk8 Crew„

Just rewatched Sk8 the infinity and now I wish I had friends so ! Gn reader

Joe | “I wanna marry your abs!”

Y’all would meet your first time at S

Obviously you’d be amazed by his skating and even if u don’t like men he’s hot as hell bro don’t lie

One of two things happens

You A. Run up to him and ask abt his skating techniques and such

Or B. He actually walks up to you to talk about your skating(only if ur good ofc💀)

He’s such a dad

If you’re younger than him he’s constantly trying to sound smart/give you wisdom

Sometimes it’s solid advice the other times it’s pure nonsense

If you like to cook/want to learn he’ll happily teach you

If not he’ll settle for a new taste tester

He would def make jokes all the time

Some genuinely funny

He expects you to laugh at all of them even if it wasn’t funny

He’d appreciate it if you didn’t cock block him like everyone else

Despite being quick to take off his shirt he’s very fashionable and takes pride in his looks obviously

If you ever needed fashion advice best go to him!

He’s a pretty laid back guy so you wouldn’t get into arguments often

Would love to skate everywhere but he’s like…got a job and responsibilities so..

Still a great dad friend to have

Honestly would care and worry over you if you got into some dumb shit so don’t do anything stupid and he won’t worry

Joe for the win🗣️‼️

Cherry/Kaoru | A.I. Advancement

You’d meet when he paid a visit to Joe’s restaurant

Ofc you knew of him bc he’s popular but you never MET Kaoru

You def walked in on their date arguing

It was so awkward u were jus like:🧍‍♂️

“Is this a bad time time to visit you?”

“Hey! Kaoru this is [ ], the kid I was talking about.”

“What a peculiar child to willingly hang around you.”

“Whatever you say, Pinky.”

He’s kinda weird with his whole AI stuff but other than that a great friend

Makes snarky comments with you

Unless ur too nice to make snide remarks

Constantly complains abt the angle of your turns

Unironically would show up at your parent teacher conferences(if you’re still in the lower schooling ofc)

Would never admit it but he loves each of his friends and would be genuinely concerned if anything happened

Shadow | Petty Clown

Oh when y’all met you wanted to throw hands

I imagine something similar to his introduction with Reki

Bro straight up threw an explosive in your face???(smoke bomb maybe but still)

He may be petty but you’re pettier(is that even a word?💀)

You found out he worked at a flower shop bc lets be FR he doesn’t look much different outside of S

Lil arguments here lil threats there and you leave with a nice assortment of flowers

Bro side eyes you EVERYTIME y’all cross paths at S😭

After the whole gang is assembled y’all no longer act this way towards one another

Bros the only responsible adult of this group

He def did your makeup once and you broke out the next day💀

“Are you sure you know what you’re doin’?”

“Trust me, kid.”

“I don’t know why but I don’t.”

You try and help him with his relationship endeavors but it never works out😭

He’ll go to the gym with you if you don’t wanna go alone

Gym bros‼️🗣️

Miya | Catty Child

This fucker

Y’all are quite the duo

Annoying ass mfs whenever and wherever you go

If you have any sort of pet it’s his pet now

Bros the animal whisperer

He’d have to be interested in your skating for y’all to become friends

So pretend ur decent or even amazing; however big ur delusion allows itself to be🫡

He’s smart but would invite you somewhere under the premise of studying just to goof around

If he needs a second player for his game bro is gonna drag your ass so y’all can play

Goes shopping with you just to complain about how everything is ugly in the stores

“That’s not cute, who thought selling this was a good idea?”

“Bitch—if you’re going to be negative the whole time go home‼️”

Reki | Redheaded Menace

If you thought you + Miya was a devious duo just imagine you and Reki

Y’all would prob meet second after you and Joe met

Bc he works at a skate shop

And you need skating stuff(you can tell I’m not a skater💀)

If you’re just a good skater and don’t know actual science and shit behind it he’s constantly telling you about it like you care

You guys cruise around together for fun

He made your current board and you’ll never get another one that’s not from him

You teach him any and all tricks/skills you know

Probably took you to his house to give you your current board bc he was working on it in his house and you met all of his family

His mom is just happy he’s got some friends

You become besties with his mom

She gossips abt news and celebrities with you

Claims ur like her other child(forget the rest of them👺)

Makes you lunch bc she’s nice like that

You let him ramble abt stuff he’s interested in even if you aren’t listening fully

Would silently beg you to stay back with him during the hot spring scavenge bc he’s scared

Forces you to watch horror movies with him bc he gets scared and needs someone else with him

Bro would be elated the whole day if you called him cool

Snow/Langa | Canadian Curiosity

Omg he’s Canadian?😦 Seize him!

Obviously being involved with S you would’ve heard of Snow but Reki would’ve introduced y’all before the big news

Bro would shove him in your face as if he’s a shiny trophy(at the beginning ofc)

“This is Langa! New guy from my class apparently he’s interested in skating.”

“Sick—he’s so pale.”

“He’s from Canada.”

“Oh.”

Bro is so oblivious it’s crazy

You gotta like SPELL IT OUT for him if you’re ever alluding to smth

Langa stays hungry and would go out to eat with you anytime

You and Reki would def help him decorate his room bc it’s…bland

It’s not bad but there’s no personality

He tells you abt his favourite dishes back in Canada and y’all try and locate any places in Japan that might sell smth similar

If not you guys attempt to make it yourselves at his house

His mom walks in on y’all ruining the kitchen💀

“Langa I’m…home.”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey Langa’s Mom!”

Bro is a skating addict and will skate whenever and wherever

Wants to race you like at least twice every week

Loser pays for dinner

You help him with his reading and writing and if you didn’t already know he’d teach you English

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josyards · 1 year

Text

AFTG Instagram HCS

Andrew

Andrew has social media, but it's a faceless 'user929485829394' kind of account (or aminyard maybe... but nobody thinks it's him) that has no followers because he just goes on there to keep up to date w stuff.

All the foxes find it eventually because someone (Nicky...) saw it open on his phone & the fans are so confused why the foxes all follow this random anon account

(Andrew deletes his account the second people start to realise who the account belongs to and makes a new one that only Neil knows about)

(Nobody questions why Neil follows a random anon account that is private because it's so... Neil of him. So nobody realises that it's Andrew this time around.)

With his only audience as Neil, Andrew posts a little. Not a lot. But it's nice, Neil thinks, when he opens Instagram to see that default icon with the ring around it.

Neil

Neil doesn't really post much but when he does it's of other ppl (primarily Allison and Matt but sometimes there is a 'soft launch' of Andrew which the goalie says he hates but never tells him to delete), his account is mainly centred around exy -- all his stories are exy related etc.

Sometimes he tags Kevin in random shit that makes no sense to anyone but them. One time he reposted this random french tumblr post about mafia relations and tagged Kevin and Kevin was hysterical because what the fuck are you doing neil are you trying to get us killed.

Funnily, his pfp is a photo of Kevin smashed drunk because he found it really funny and Kevin ends up blocking Neil on social media when he refused to change it (and because of the shit he gets tagged in).

Kevin

Kevin keeps his Instagram very professional. He posts his magazine photoshoots & has stupid shit like clips of him on Kathy's show saying. "Thank you for having me @kathy, it was a pleasure." and the fans EAT IT UP.

The foxes don't let him live it down and every time he posts anything the foxes all repost it w stupid music or something like that, or just with "HAHAHAHAHAHAH".

But that's not just it, sometimes Kevin posts photos from practice; sneak shots that nobody realises he's taken. It seems sweet; it would be sweet if he wasn't such a raging asshole when they practice. He also posts their match scores on his story.

What shocks the foxes the most out of everything is how open he is about his obsession with USC Trojans. Sometimes they wonder whether they accidentally followed a Trojan fan account but no, it's just Kevin Day shitposting about Jeremy Knox.

Nicky

Nicky predominantly posts loads of selfies and shit, lots of candid photos of the others!!!! He does 'camera dumps' and 'monthly dumps' of photos. He posts everything that he can and his story is like a vlog.

He's also very outspoken with his opinion of social media and goes live all the damn time. It drives the monsters insane when they hear "hey guys!" from their living room.

He actually gains quite a bit of attention as the only fox who isn't completely shutdown secrative about his life and so his reason for posting is fed constantly.

He likes to do those "ask me question" stories and it's really entertaining to see him suddenly rush up to one of the foxes and ask questions that the fans want to know. If you're a new fan, your go to Instagram is 100% Nickys. His highlights are full of info on everything and everyone.

It surprises the foxes immensely when they find out his Twitter time is more than Instagram.

Allison

Allison is similar to Nicky in some sense but more professional, it has more of a 'model/fashion student' vibe to it; she likes to post random stories of her having dressed Neil up (bonding she calls it) and has a little highlight for him (the foxes appreciate her efforts).

She likes to do reels, like "dress up neil w/ me!". She also does advertisements w/ skincare & makeup groups.

She has a very aesthetic-looking account; she likes to do GRWM's (and sometimes they star a fellow fox which makes the fan so excited for each new release). She's extremely charismatic and draws a lot of followers from industries other than sport/exy.

Dan

Dan posts about Exy A LOT which surprises the foxes because even though they know that she loves the sport they didn't realise she followed it with such ferocity.

She has a lot of Foxes content on her page, like group photos or post-match selfies etc. She always posts something like that with the score of the game in the caption.

Her pfp is either one of her and Matt's eyes or a photo of them kissing at the end of a game (maybe the Raven one?).

Matt

Matt's Instagram is a shrine of Dan...andNeil. His focus is largely selfies w them or candids of them. He has highlights for them, named "<3" & "Neil!" (they used to both be <3 but then someone asked if they were poly and the foxes lost their shit).

Matt doesn't really post about exy that much, his Instagram seems to capture the domestic side of the Foxes that don't get shown too much through the other's accounts.

Matt's favourite passtime is posting photos of Neil where he blatantly crops Andrew out of the photo. So you get: Neil looking in adoration at... someone? something? The fans go crazy every time.

Renee

Renee's Instagram is the epitome of domestic. It's crazy. She's private and only accepts people she knows (aka the foxes). She posts the most beautiful candids of the foxes you will ever see; them in their Halloween outfits in Eden's Twilight, (an extra slide of Andrew and Neil looking at each other (it was a collective agreement to ignore Kevin who was slumped on the table)), them post Raven match which was taken by Stephanie Walker, a games night which Neil somehow coaxed everyone into (including Andrew) etc.

It's an account almost solely for documenting the PSU Foxes adventures together. Sometimes she posts a quote about her beliefs or music that she likes.

Her account is the foxes favourite, though they'd never admit it.

Even at gunpoint.

Aaron

Last (and very much least), Aarons Instagram (post book three) is almost entirely soft-launching Katelyn.

Library study photos where you can see a girl's hand and someone else's book?

Check.

Two coffees one which has a lipstick stain on it?

Check.

He's done it all.

(Pre-book three as well) He also sometimes posts random photos of like locations (#courthouse /j) but nothing more than that, all of it is Katelyn and it makes the foxes ill.

I may do more. or edit this

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nkn0va · 1 month

Note

Ok, so do think that you can do relationship hcs for Cynthia, Lusamine, Diantha from Pokemon?

The fact that a Pokemon request of all things took so damn long is baffling but whatever. Minimalistic post since I don't have banners for Pokemon and I don't feel like going through Tumblr gifs to find a decent one for everyone.

God this took way too long. Writer's block struck at the worst possible time.

Cynthia

-Cynthia's occupation as champion keeps her quite busy. Neither of you particularly enjoy this but that's just how the cookie crumbles as they say.

-Despite that, she's surprisingly good at separating work from her personal life. When the League's finding itself in a slow season and new trainers aren't running amok around Sinnoh she'll always manage to find time for you.

-She's extremely supportive of whatever you do and will be there all the way. Wanna be a trainer too? Congratulations, you have a world class mentor. Wanna be an archeologist, she will nerd out about ancient mythology with you all you want and join you on your excavations. Anything you wanna do, Pokemon-related or not, has her full support.

-Between her mythological studies on the side with her work and training as champion, there are moments she overworks herself. You'll need to play the role of caretaker and bring her back down to Earth.

-Of course despite this, it doesn't stop her from doing the same for you when necessary. Gently pushing you to go to sleep, preparing a fresh cup of your favorite warm drink, or knocking you out with a bat hugging you from behind to relax you.

-Her Pokemon quickly form an attachment to you, they see her family as theirs, too. Seeing her terrifying, nightmare inducing Garchomp acting like a big puppy will never get old.

-If you have a team of their own, they get quite protective, especially the unevolved, inexperienced ones. At least until you end up catching up to them, which they eventually will under their tutelage.

Lusamine

-Realistically, you really only get close enough to be in a relationship if you start as an employee at the Aether Foundation. Your hard-working attitude and sincere kindness towards the Pokemon they take care of quickly grabs her attention. Something about you just stood out even among the similar employees working under her.

-The relationship instantly is declared to be a secret, she still needs to keep a professional appearance at work. In private though is a different story.

-Once you do manage to win Lusamine's heart, she's extremely attached and clingy. Considering how her last relationship ended, she will not let you go. And you can bet that you're not touching anything involving Ultra Wormholes with a 40 foot pole.

-Very physically clingy all around despite what your first impressions of her might have been. It's a pleasant surprise when she finally drops the professional facade around you and craves gentle intimacy.

-It's only natural that Lillie and Gladion quickly become a big part of your life considering how big of a part they are in Lusamine's. Being there for them is a requirement in your relationship.

-It takes a while for them to warm up to you, but they do eventually. Lillie's much more open about it, happy to have a second parent in her life again. Gladion does try to keep up the edgy persona, but he does become fond of you, albeit shown very subtly.

-It's a very surprisingly domestic relationship after the whole Ultra Space incident. A very happy family picture with Lillie and Gladion around.

Diantha.

-Much like the last two ladies, very busy. Being a champion and a movie star means she's not exactly swimming in free time. Whenever you two do get to go out together, disguises are needed thanks to her fame.

-Dating Diantha means your fashion sense sees a noticeable improvement. Mostly to have effective disguises so you can go out in public without being hounded by paparazzi. It's actually quite pleasant when it works.

-You learn to spot her out in public regardless of what she's wearing as she beckons you over to a nice cafe or restaurant she wants to try with you. Kalos is known for it's exquisite fine dining, whatever gets her approval is bound to be the good stuff.

-The public is inevitably soon going to find out you're dating THE Diantha. You're gonna become a bit of a celebrity yourself whether you like it or not. If you're pursuing anything to do for a living, you're at the very least gonna get eyes on it, fortunately. You two immediately become Kalos' power couple.

-If you have a Pokemon capable of Mega Evolution, Diantha will be your number one fan and mentor in helping you achieve that power. She's about the best you could ask for in this regard, her ace is a Psychic type that she Mega Evolves, after all.

-Despite all the glamor and lights, she does crave something of a domestic life. She very much appreciates a more traditional partner there for the long run who wants the same thing. To her, buying a house and settling down is her ultimate goal, and showing you want the same makes you two pretty much set for life.

#pokemon #pokemon x reader #pokemon cynthia #lusamine #pokemon diantha #headcanon #relationship headcanons #cynthia x reader #lusamine x reader #diantha x reader #x reader

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squerlly · 2 months

Text

just felt like doing a little something something... this post is kind of a little clarification for certain things about my new series. for those who don't know I made a series called flames of desire and it is an Alastor x (f! bunny reader) slow burn romance with eventual smut ofc. my writing style is a bit odd to say the least since I have a hard time explaining things in detail and in attempt to make mine and my readers lives easier iv color coded the dialogue for each and every character so that you know what's text vs dialogue. I also try to include individual POV to get a clear aspect of certain things *cough* *cough* lore. so here are some things you should know

-dialogue colors-

husk, angel, Alastor, Vaggie, Charlie, Niffty, reader (this font specifically, please don't get it mixed up with her thoughts) incase I run out of colors for certain characters I will substitute a color but I will always specify whos talking!

yes bunny Reader design has paws and she can't really wear shoes so I decided to make her wear socks similar to the helluva boss character Lunas, which are open-toed socks just to have something to cover her feet at least. in this story, y/n is old enough to drink but I wouldn't say she's on the older side so use your imagination or don't I don't mind if you edit the character, this is a story about you lovely people after all!. I'm also terrible at smut so don't really expect a lot.

I am Hispanic and although I am not fluent I will try my best to make the characters cannon yet not cannon, by this I mean I will make valentino speak slight Spanish as his cannon form does. I will also make Alastors cooking related to new Orleans Louisiana dishes because hes old fashioned and I doubt he will ever put in the time to learn other cooking don't come for me!!!

I will not be adding sir pentious in this series, I know I'm sorry please forgive me, maybe if I change my mind later which I always end up doing eventually I will add a part just for pentious, a little something. I already struggle trying to make sure I include every character in at least every 2 to 3 chapters because I don't really do favoritism when it comes to my writing, same goes for lucifer but once again maybe something but I also don't want to spoil the show for people who have not watched it yet.

I have a tight schedule when it comes to things I have to do at home vs my free time so I will try to get at least 2 chapters out every week maybe 3 if I feel motivated enough or unless I don't get writer block. as for request I will be re opening those this Friday and close them on Sunday so I can work, edit, and release them throughout the week if I get any.

this series is a shared project between me and my bestfriend @strippezzz please go check out there artwork its so good. he works on helping me proofread because I have ADHD and my brain works a million miles an hour and tend to miss things here and there. hes also 10x better at writing smut, not for the ideas but just describing it detail so I leave that to him and wanted to make sure that I'm not getting all the credit!

if you have any question or concerns just ping me in the comments and I will probably answer in 5 min tops because I'm always using my phone for literally everything

I hope this was helpful!!!! and have a wonderful day/night love you all stay tuned~

-squerlly

for more stories and more chapters please click this masterlist

#hazbin #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader

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satansreadingglasses · 2 years

Text

Demon Brothers x Gn!MC

smut smut smutty headcanons

Basically their preferences during sex with MC (positions, fav places, etc.)

Warnings-Mentions of pegging, hentai, degradation, (minor)claustrophilia, hate fucking, sex in front of a mirror, semi-public sex, somnophilia, pillow humping

a/n- I’m probably gonna do some plus size MC stuff next, but it might take a bit cuz I have terrible writters block rn

Lucifer

He’s definitely more vanilla than the rest

(personal opinion ofc)

But I feel like he’s so much more “old fashioned”

He’d be happy just fucking into you and gazing down at you, anywhere

His fav position is missionary, he just loves to see how fucked out you look and his heart melts everytime he watches your body tighten when you cute

He thinks it’s so cute

He’d prefer fucking you in his bedroom, but if you want to do somethin in your room, he’s totally cool with it

But if you’re into more kinky stuff, he’d look into it and try things out with/on you

He just loves you so much and wants to keep you happy

Mammon

Mammon’s a bottom and a sub, I stand by that

It’s not that he doesn’t have stamina to top you, he’s just too lazy

That and he loves the way you smirk at him when he whines

it makes him feel twenty times better when you give him little kisses while you fuck him

His fav position is a tie between doggy style and missionary

Like I said, he loves little kisses when you top him, and what better position than missionary?

And, whether your pegging him or just fucking him, he loves feeling your fingers on his back and through his hair

Gentle pulling would probably be enough to make him cry, just from how good he feels

He’d love to have sex with you literally anywhere (mammon = horndog)

So he doesn’t really have a favorite, just anywhere you feel comfy

Leviathan

Levi 100% watches Hentai, so who knows what he’s into (tentacles)

He’s the type to joke about milfs, dilfs, etc.

But in reality he would go feral for someone older than him

While he’s got a degradation kink in the game, he’d probably want something a bit more intimate

He seems so insecure most of the time, so maybe a mix of praise and degradation

He’d really like cowgirl, whether he’s on top or you are, he doesn't care

Just the thought of being so close to you and your warm body makes his brain short circuit

His favorite place would be someplace small, like a closet or something similar

He just feels like the type of guy who’d like to feel as close to you as possible

Satan

Lucifer’s office.

That’s all I need to say, but I’m gonna say more anyway

He’d love to bend you over his older brothers desk and let loose, hearing you whine and moan about how good he is and how much better he is than Lucifer

Once he meets you he starts to read a shit ton of smutty books, and then imagines how you and him would act it out

He’d also love to try fucking you while he makes you read out loud

It could be literally any book, listening to you stutter over words really pushes him over the edge

His favorite position changes on his mood

If he’s pissed then it’s doggy, if he’s in a lovey mood it’s butterfly

He’d hate fuck you, but then right after he’d be really clingy (asking if you’re hungry, if you’re okay, if you need water, if you want him to run you a bath, everything.)

Asmodeus

Asmo thinks you two are the two most gorgeous creatures in the universe

So what better way to have sex than in front of a mirror?

He’d go from behind, to make sure you’re still watching everything

Whether he has to do it by tugging up your hair or even holding up your face, he’s happy to do anything

If it’s a bathroom mirror, he’d bend you over with your hands on the counter

If it’s a full length, you’re on your hands and knees, and he’s right behind you

He just loves how beautiful/handsome you look all fucked out and tired

But if you’re dominating him, then it’d just be reversed

He’d insist on showing you how amazing you both look in that state and he wouldn’t stop pestering until you agree

He thinks you’re so great, second only to him (it’s a very close second)

Beelzebub

Would honestly be pretty open to anything

He doesn’t consider himself a bottom or a top, a sub or a dom, nothin

But he’d be anything you want

You want someone to fuck you until you’re crying for them to stop? He’s your guy

You want someone to be your little toy? He’s your man

He’d never admit it, but he has fantasies about having sex in a gym locker room

He’d probably pass out if you ever suggested it

And once you two do have sex in a locker room, he’s never the same

Mixing a hobby he loves and a person he loves sounds like heaven to him

Belphegor

His favorite place is in bed

And not just on the bed, but in it

All bundled up in covers, half asleep, skin to skin kinda sex

Somnophiliac

He adores how cute you sound when he lazily fucks you in the middle of the night

His fav position is spooning, with him behind you of course

If you said he could, he’d grind and touch on you all night (if not then he’d wait)

He’s also into overstim, making you cum until you’re fully awake would be a dream

A fantasy he has would be to watch you hump one of his pillows

Whenever you’re not around to help him, he imagines how cute and embarrassed you’d look while humping his pillow and he cums almost immediately

#Lucifer obey me smut #mammon obey me smut #levi obey me smut #leviathan obey me smut #Satan obey me smut #Asmodeus obey me smut #Asmodeus obey me #Beelzebub obey me smut #beel obey me smut #belphegor obey me smut #belphie obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x gn reader #shall we date x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x gn mc #obey me headcanons

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dearestgojo · 2 years

Text

Indifferent Love

Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo’s life gets turned around when you declare you’ve never held any feelings for him, and an arrangement is formed so that you may live the rest of your days in peace with each other. But upon your declaration, something stirs to life inside Satoru.

Warnings: 18+. Stolen Kiss. Implied past violence. Violence. Naoya.

Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Series Masterlist | Wc: 10.3k

The sun has long risen when you pull up onto the small parking space of the building where the penthouse you and Kenji had occupied. A few people are walking in and out of the front doors of the building, carrying groceries or taking their animals or kids out. Your heart clenches when you watch a couple walk out hand in hand, the girl leaning into her boyfriend's shoulder, who presses a kiss on the top of her head. It brings old memories of you and Kenji coming here and spending your days in the area in a similar fashion.

You can still feel his hand wrapped warmly around yours, swaying in between your bodies as you walked towards the small farmers market, that only opened on Saturdays, a few blocks down the street. Can still feel his breath on the back of your hand before he kissed it. You can still smell the faint scent of the woodsy cologne he would spritz after showering in the morning. And it all makes your heartache for a future that would never be.

Taking in a deep breath to push the clawing in your throat, you scan the outside of the building until you spot the realtor you had contacted to sell your penthouse. He stands outside the front doors, a cigarette hanging from his lips. His muscles strain against the button-up shirt he wears, arms flexing every time he takes the stick out of his mouth to flick the butt. Strawberry blond hair pushed away from his face allowing you to see the deep scowl and sweat sticking to his forehead. He nods at the people who cross his path, a few women returning the nod but speeding up to enter the building. It's comical how such a large man with an intimidating face is trying to make people he doesn't know feel comfortable but causing the opposite effect.

Getting out of the car, you approach him slowly, raising your hand to wave and get his attention.

Sukuna smiles at you slightly, greeting you with a quick nod of his head, and throwing his cigarette onto the ground where he steps on it with the toe of his shoe.

"Hello, Sukuna, thanks for coming to see me here today. I'm so sorry it was last minute," you extend your hand for him to take, his entire hand engulfing your smaller one as he shakes it.

"Don't worry about it," he says, stepping aside to let you lead the way into the building.

You give him a tight grin, walking in and towards the elevator, ignoring the stares of a few of the residents who had watched you come in and out with Kenji. They don't go unnoticed by Sukuna who nervously swallows.

"We could've signed the papers back at the office," he says following you up to the elevator.

"I know, but I still had a couple of small boxes to get before handing the keys over to you," you state, looking up at him over the brim of your sunglasses.

The elevator feels crowded despite it just being the two of you, neither of you say anything standing on opposite sides of the small space, watching the numbers get higher and higher.

A silence you break when the doors open, "I haven't seen you in a while, how's Yuji? Is he doing well in school?"

Sukuna follows after you, keeping his distance from you his right knee aching with every step he takes. You feel guilty when you catch him readjusting his posture while he waits for you to open the door, his shoulder creaking when he straightens up. Sukuna nods his head, pretending he didn't see your eyes lingering on his shoulder, "He's doing fine, thanks to you. I don't think we can thank you enough for the scholarship you offered him."

"It's the least I could do," you murmur stepping aside to let him through.

Sukuna feigns that he didn't hear you, changing the topic of the conversation away from him and his younger brother, "I heard your fiance is back, is that why you're getting rid of this place in such a hurry? What about Kenji, does he know you selling this place?"

"Not particularly, I was going to sell this place whether or not Satoru married me," you answer, placing your bag near the entrance before stepping further in, "And I guess neither of the girls told you, but Kenji and I aren't dating anymore since about three months ago before Satoru returned."

Sukuna opens his lips into a small 'o' as he connects most of the dots, and moves further in, "Well it's a nice place, in a good location, so I think It'll go pretty quickly."

"I hope so,' you say placing your bag on the counter and leaning against it to look at Sukuna, who makes the open space of the living area and kitchen feel small, "I want to get rid of this place as quickly as possible."

Sukuna watches as you look at the walls with pained eyes, your lips pursing into a thin line as you glance around at the bare walls. For a second he regrets changing the subject to something you didn't want to talk about, but the guilt resides when he shifts his weight and his knee creaks a bit. He lets out a low whistle and steps into the living area. "Well like I said, that shouldn't be a problem," He gives you a bright smile, his pearly whites showing.

Returning the smile you walk past him, handing him a small silver key before grabbing a small stack of taped brown cardboard boxes, "Well this is all I have left here. How about I treat you to brunch and I sign off on those papers?"

Sukuna offers to take the boxes from you, but you decline with a shake of your head, waiting for his response, "Sounds good to me."

The two of you head down, Sukuna walking you to your car, and helping you open the back where you carefully set the boxes down.

"I'll text you the location to a small cafe that's close by and I'll buy a cup of coffee there," you tell Sukuna. who nods opening your car door for you and helping you in before getting to his car. He follows you as you drive a few blocks through the city.

The cafe you park next to is small, with a small canopy extending out, small vines curving around the columns that hold it up, and large windows that were left open during the hot months to let in the cool breeze. It is a cozy little space you found a few years ago when you first bought the penthouse. You

use to come here often with Kenji. The thought of parting with it made your heartache.

You wait for Sukuna's car to pull up behind you before getting out and leading the way inside to a small table near one of the open windows. You inhale the sweet scent of the baked goods and coffee beans being ground. A small waitress approaches the table you're seated at, taking your orders.

"I'll have a pecan pie and a cup of coffee with two sugars please," you say, giving her a polite smile."

Sukuna tries to make himself smaller when the waitress eyes him nervously, "I'll just have a plain black coffee."

The two of you sit in silence when she walks away, the tip of your shoe tapping lightly on the wooden floorboards. You stare out the window watching as a bird perches itself on a branch, that sways with its added weight. The bird flaps a few times before gaining its balance and sitting perfectly still on it.

"I'm getting married in a month, and I would like it if you and Yuji join us," you say while raising your cup to sip from it.

Sukuna stares at you a little in shock, the conversations of the others the only sound that fills the space between you and him. He'd known you were engaged, how could he not when every step he took was a reminder that you would always be slightly out of reach for anyone else who wasn't Satoru Gojo, but he also knew that this wasn't what you wanted.

"Of course." He pauses for a second thinking about how quickly you decided to sell off the penthouse he had sold to you and the longing look in your eyes as you picked up the last of your things. "I know you're getting married, but..." he trails off, glancing around the cafe, "what about Kenji. I thought you loved him.

You stir the warm cup of coffee, not looking up at him, "I did, and now I don't. It's not that complicated." Your voice doesn't give any emotion as you speak, not once breaking the put-together image you present to others most of the time. "And I would've had to call things off, it wasn't like my dad would have let me have an actual choice of marrying him or marrying Satoru. You know how he is."

Sukuna does know how your father is, the pain in his knee was a reminder of that. "I guess your right...but it doesn't explain why you suddenly decided to sell the penthouse or why you don't love Kenji. The two of you had your whole lives planned out despite you being engaged to another man."

"I - we were naive to think we could've had a future. Kenji wanted more from me, and I simply couldn't give him that," you answer, keeping the fact that Kenji had slept with another woman, knowing that Sukuna was likely still close to him. "It doesn't matter now anyways, I'm getting married soon."

Sukuna looks up at you, his lips turned down. He'd only known you a handful of years, but he felt for your situation just as much as you probably felt for his. "Well, what should I do? Congratulate you or be sad for you?"

You stare blankly out the window, watching as the birds fly across the sky. You feel desolated with a longing to fly off from here to someplace far off where no one would ever be able to find you.

"Doesn't matter. Do whichever you think is more fitting."

To say that Satoru's mind was filled with thoughts of you was an understatement. After his dream and call with you, it seemed his mind insisted he'd think about you every minute, every second of every day. He seemed restless throughout the week, always staring far off while in meetings, shifting in his seat, and drawing invisible lines with his closed pen or on his phone.

It made Yuna's job difficult, trying to get him to concentrate during a meeting and to make it to his meetings in time. She'd found it hard to make sure he finished all his duties by the end of the day, checking in on him every few minutes to make sure he was signing off on paperwork or at least checking his emails. She left the office with her feet dragging every day.

Even now as she stands in front of him, she can see the far-off look in his blue eyes, finger tapping on the edge of his desk, and he stares blankly at the screen in front of him. She can hear him humming quietly.

She knocks on the front of his desk breaking his trance. He looks up at her, surprised to see her standing in front of him with her hands wrapped around a black folder. She ignores his startled expression and informs him that he has a visitor, "Sir, Mr. Geto is here to see you."

Clearing his throat Satoru sits up straight, adjusting his shirt, "Again?"

"Yes, sir. Should I tell him you're busy?"

"No, go ahead and let him in," Satoru answers, shaking his head and standing up to sit again on the couch, "Is my evening free?"

Yuna nods, "Yes, you just have those papers to sign, sir."

"Thank you, Yuna," Satoru excuses her.

Yuna walks out of the office, leaving the door open, just enough for Suguru to squeeze through moments later.

"Hey man," Suguru greets, plopping down on the couch opposite Satoru, "you ready to have lunch?" Satoru raises an eyebrow, "don't tell me you forgot. I messaged you about it last night."

"Sorry, I've been so busy, I must have forgotten," Satoru answers, "Do you mind having lunch here?"

Sighing Suguru sinks into his seat, "I guess not. What have you been so busy with anyways?"

"Just..stuff."

"Does this stuff have anything to do with y/n?"

Satoru bites his bottom lip, wondering if you would get angrier with him if he told Suguru about the contract. He quickly decides against it, "It does actually. I talked with her dad, and told him we'd get married in a month."

"What why?" Suguru asks, sitting up straighter, "I thought you didn't want to marry her."

"I don't. That's not all though, y/n found out and she called me super angry." Satoru feels the corner of his lips curl a bit when he recalls how angry you had sounded through the phone.

Suguru stares at him for a bit before speaking again "Look man, if you don't want to marry y/n don't. Seriously. You don't owe anyone this, no one is forcing you to do this. I know you feel some sort of obligation to your parents, that you have shoes to fill in, but you don't." Suguru runs a hand through his hair, gathering his thoughts as he thinks about how to prevent not only ruining his life but yours.

"It's not like that...y/n and I have come to a mutual agreement. She didn't want this as much as I didn't, but we both have to do this to make our families happy."

"That's the thing, Satoru, no one is making you go through with this marriage, but yourself. Not your dad. Not the shareholders. Not your mother. Absolutely no one." Suguru lets out a breath, "I know that...was hard for your parents and that you shouldn't have had to see them going through something, especially at a young age, but what happened wasn't your fault."

"I know, but I can't help and feel like it is," Satoru answers leaning back on his chair.

Suguru looks at his friend, his lips pressed into a thin line, "Let me at least ask you this. And I think this is an important question because you could marry anyone you wanted. You have a bunch of girls for your choosing who would jump at the chance of marrying you, but you've kept y/n strung for years now. So let me ask you this one question?" Suguru pauses for a moment, letting the silence settle in before he speaks again, "Do you think you have some feelings for y/n?

Friday comes much sooner than you would've liked, you're mother comes into your room much too early for your liking, a glass of wine already in her hand, urging you to get ready for the day. Your protests of dinner being hours from now fall on deaf ears as she pulls you out of bed and pushes you towards your bathroom for a quick shower, which you oblige. You half expect her to still be in your room when you climb out of the shower, only to find your bedroom empty.

A burgundy dress rests on our bed along with a pearl necklace and earring set and a pair of white block heels at the end of your bed. Sighing you let the towel wrapped around you drop to the floor, walking into the closet where you scan your clothes for something comfortable to go out in. Deciding on a pair of checkered pants and a yellow top with a ruffled collar. You pull a pair of white sneakers from you grab an over-the-shoulder bag and sneak out of your bedroom. You head down the stairs, making sure you are not spotted by anyone, and back towards the employee entrance.

From there, you call an uber while you sneak down towards the gate, pushing the code into a box on the inside of the property to get the gate to open. You pray that your mother doesn't notice your absence the entire day as she plans tonight's dinner. The Uber driver arrives a minutes after you've managed to get a block away, and you're driven off to the only place that brought you peace now.

It takes fifteen minutes more to get to the orphanage than it would've taken if you had driven yourself there. The gates of it are open, and a few of the children who were in recess play out in the front yard. You give them quick waves as you make your way to the entrance a few of them running after you to greet you before you can make it to the headmistress's office.

They greet you with warm hugs, their arms wrapping around your waist and legs, weighing you down as you attempt to make it past the threshold of the room. The room is filled with giggles and laughter as you struggle to lift each leg to get through.

"Miss y/n," the headmistress greets you, shushing the children, "it's been a while since we last saw you."

Between giggles, you manage to answer her, "Sorry, I've been really busy lately, but I do hope you received my donations."

"We have, and we are extremely grateful for them," she answers, taking one of the children off your legs, "What brings you today though?"

"I just wanted to see the children and see if there was anything you needed," you respond, taking a seat on one of the floormats in the room, setting one of the younger children in your lap, "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, take your time, the children will certainly love having you around," she says, "I'm going to go work on some papers, let us know if you need anything."

"Thank you."

You spend the rest of the day playing and helping around the orphanage losing the track of time. You only notice it's late when you see some of the older kids heading towards their dorms, and quickly give your farewells before returning home. The heavy traffic between the orphanage and home makes you two hours late. And sneaking back in is more difficult than sneaking out had been.

The maids are all running around finishing the last details for the house to look spotless and for the food to be served in time. Setting fresh flowers around the house. Your mother is going around the house with the head maid, rechecking everything.

You somehow make it back to your room without getting spotted, quickly undressing in the restroom to take a quick shower to get the sweat of the day off your body. Making quick work of blow drying your hair and applying your make-up before walking out to the room and slipping the dress over your shoulders.

There are two quick knocks on your door and your mother walks in, exclaiming with relief "Oh thank god your back! Do you how worried I've been about you all day? You can't just disappear like that y/n! Especially when we're having a very important dinner." She glances you up and down, "You're not even ready, and the Gojo's will be here any minute" your mother hisses, pushing the zipper of your dress the rest of the way up. "Where did you disappear to? I had to lie to your father and tell him that you went out to get your nails done," she pushes you towards the vanity, reaching around you for the brush.

"Lying must have been really hard for yo- owe!" you exclaim when she roughly pulls on your hair, reaching for two hair pins she places in our hair, pulling it away from your face.

"Don't start with me. We all have roles to play today, and yours was that of a sophisticated young girl having dinner with her future in-laws. I can't you look perfect right now, but you will certainly act like it...for the sake of both of us." She spin you around, her trimmed nails adjusting the accessories around your neck and ears, and taking a step back, "There, not bad considering it was a bit rushed."

There's a knock a knock on your bedroom door and one of the maids sticks her head in, "Ma'am, the Gojo's are pulling into the driveway,"

"We'll be right down," your mother answers waving the maid out,"

Satoru's mother greets you first, "Oh dear y/n, you look so beautiful in that dress, it suits you so well. Doesn't she honey?"

"She does. It's nice seeing you again y/n," Satoru's father smiles at you with a nod of his head, "You've grown since I last saw you."

You give Satoru's parents a quick hug, "Thank you," you answer before stepping back. You greet Satrou with a smile and a short wave of your hand taking a step back to stand between your father and mother, only stepping next to him when your parents start to lead the way to the dining room. Satoru leans to you, his breath brushing against your ear, "You look good in red."

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, raising your head a bit higher, and responding with a dry, "Thank you."

Satoru laughs under his breath, slowing down his steps so you fall behind your parents, "Don't tell me you're still mad at me."

"I'm not mad, I'm frustrated," you answer walking ahead of him.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" He asks, spreading his arms to his sides, "To get married."

You stop in your tracks and turn to look back at him, your nails digging into your palms as you try to keep your voice from rising, "Satoru no one wants this, no one wants a rushed wedding. The whole point of us coming to an agreement was so we could get married by our terms, and now I find myself possibly getting married in a month all because you decide to speak out of turn. We didn't even talk about this fully, so I don't know what made you think that getting married in a month's time was what I wanted. And not only that, you didn't even talk about it to me, but to my father which is the reason I'm so frustrated with you right now. What in your pea-sized brain made you think that talking to my father right after me was a good idea? Do you know what could have happened if you let our agreement slip? You could've forgotten about having even an ounce of freedom."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly," Satoru apologizes, "I didn't think getting married soon would bother you since we've been engaged for so long."

Huffing you turn on your heel and walk to the dining hall, "It doesn't matter right now, we have an act to keep, so at least don't fuck that up." Satoru nods his head and follows you, watching your hips sway as he does. Dinner was gonna be long for more reasons than one.

Satoru leans back on the chair in the office of his home, spinning a glass of whiskey with an ice piece melting in his hand. He stares at the ceiling, watching as the moonlight dances on it. His eyes are a little hazed from the wine he drank at your house, and the three glasses of liquor he drank after arriving home. He thought alcohol would help push the thoughts of you out of his head, but it only seems to increase them.

"What the fuck is wrong with me? I don't like her, so why is she stuck in my head?" He groans out loud to the books of the study, running his free hand over his face. Your face flashes behind his closed lids, the angry pout you made as you reprimanded him for talking to your father behind your back.

His mind is plagued with images of you from dinner. How you had treated everyone but him with warmth. The sound of your laughter when his father would tell a cheesy joke. The way the dress you wore highlighted your curves and brought out your skin. And the whiff of you he had gotten when you marched away from him.

The swears he can still smell the scent of your perfume lingering on his clothes despite you keeping your distance from him the majority of the night. Suguru's words lingered in the back of his head.

Do you think you have some feelings for y/n?

Satoru didn't know the answer. What he did know however was that your words that day you met struck a nerve inside of him. That every word you now said to him had him questioning how he had completely misjudged you. And that every time he closed his eyes and thought of that day it felt as if he was slowly chipping at his heart.

No, Satoru didn't think he liked you or even loved you, but the fact that you seemed to have a great distaste for him, a distaste that he had somehow mistaken for affection, had awoken his interest in you.

You roll your eyes turning to look back into the wall of mirrors, your eyes falling over the curve of the white strapless dress on your waist, your fingers sliding down the folds on the bust. The silk material catches the light of the fluorescent lights overhead. It's a beautiful dress, with its heart neckline and sheer fabric that falls over your shoulders. It cascades down towards the floor, unfurling over the silhouette like the leaves of a willow tree. The small white flower accents on the fabric draw your eyes to the dress. The hem splays around the floor and accentuates the curves of your body. Your mother comes behind you and puts your hair up into a loose bun at the nape of your neck and places a veil into it. She adjusts it so it rests on the back of your shoulders, and loosens a few of your front hairs to frame your face before she steps back to admire you.

She claps her hands together, tears brimming the edges of her eyes, "Oh, you look so beautiful, honey. Satoru won't be able to keep his eyes off you."

You look yourself once over again, lips formed into a thin line, the pit of your stomach burning. Reaching up you pull the veil out of your hair, hand it to your mother, and turn on your heel back to the dressing room, "I don't like it."

Shoko and Utahime scramble behind you, grabbing the next dress off of the rack, and closing the door to the dressing room. Shoko unzips the back of your dress while Hime undoes the buttons of the ballgown hanging from the wall. You side-eye it, sighing heavily as the dress around your body spill down to your waist, the reflection of your bare chest meeting your eyes.

As you stare at the faint scars that run along your ribcage. You feel the urge to claw your way out of your skin, disgusted at yourself for not doing more to fight for your own happiness. What could you do though? What could you have done when you were dependent on the money your father gave you?

Blinking the tears that prick the edges of your eyes, you let Utahime and Shoko dress you in the nth dress of the day, a ballgown much too large for the small dressing room with three people inside of it. Sighing you step out of the dressing room, pulling the heavy skirt as far up as you to not step on it.

You're mother gasps, fingers covering the tip of her mouth as she blindly reaches for Shoko to set on the top of your head. The three of them then stand in front of you, their mouths opened as they look at you with tears starting to prick the corners of their eyes, a reaction none of the other dresses had gotten.

"Y/n you look stunning," Shoko mumbles, reaching out to run her fingers over the skirt of your dress.

Utahime nods her head, "More than stunning, ethereal."

Exhaling a puff of air you roll your eyes as you barely look at yourself in the mirrors, "Okay if you all think this is the dress can we just choose this one and leave? I'm starting to get hungry."

Shoko comes forward, helping you lift the skirt while leading you back to the dressing room, "Do you like it? It's a very beautiful dress."

"It doesn't matter if I like it or not, I'm tired, and we don't have time to take our time choosing a dress." You say shrugging the sleeves of the dress down your shoulders. Utahime helps you step out of the dress while Shoko hands you back clothes. You reach up behind you to remove the veil, your fingers touching the material and rubbing it between your fingers.

You wonder for a second what dress you would've chosen if you were excited about this wedding. Your eyes scan the dresses behind you, falling on the one you tried on before the one Utahime and Shoko are helping you. Would you have worn something like that? Would you have been excited about getting married and looked for a dress happily?

Exhaling you push the questions out of your head and pull your skirt up your thighs and tuck your shirt in, adjusting the sleeves so they rest off the shoulders.

Utahime and Shoko walk out of the room while you finish fixing yourself, taking a deep breath your eyes find yours in the mirror again, and then you notice that your eyes are tearful and that your vision is blurry. There's a heaviness that settles on your chest and a slight tremble in your hands when they come up to wipe the tears. Taking in three deep breaths, you recompose yourself before stepping out onto the store floor, your mother and friends waiting for you by the register where your mother is paying for the dress. You hear part of the conversation, your mother telling the sales lady that your seamstress would take care of any altering the dress would need.

The four of you leave, letting your mother lead the way back to the car as she continues on about how gorgeous you looked in the dress, and how lucky Satoru was.

Your phone buzzes on the bed where you had previously tossed it after coming up to your room to get ready for your day with Satoru after lunch. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Satoru's name flash on the screen in a text bubble. Rolling your shoulders you look back in the mirror, you ignore it and go back to tucking the black blouse into the white skirt you had picked for the day, glancing at the black sued Mary Janes you placed at the end of your bed, wondering if you should choose a different pair. Would a flat pair look better? They'd certainly be more comfortable. Your phone buzzes again, Satoru's name flashing on the screen again. Puffing out your cheeks and blowing the air out, you pick up, smoothing the front of your skirt with one hand as you sit down while reading.

Satoru: I'm here.

Satoru: Should I go in? I saw your dad glance through a window.

You: No, I'll be right out just getting my shoes on.

Slipping your feet into your shoes you bend down to secure the clasps of the shoes, standing and doing a once over in the mirror again. You run your hands over the slicked back part of your hair down to the bun that rests at the nape of your neck, making sure no hair is out of place before then picking up the purse one of the maids had set out for you.

Coming down the stairs, you find your father at the bottom of them again, dressed in just a button-up shirt that's tucked into his slacks. He doesn't bother greeting you and eyeing you up and down, "Going out? I saw Satoru's here to pick you up, let him know to come in next time."

Standing in front of him you tug on the sleeves of your shirt, making sure the collar rests just about your bust, "You're the one who set up the cake testing, so I don't know why you're asking, but yes." You peer up at him through your lashes, lips pressed together tightly, "And he doesn't have to do that. If he wants he can honk, he doesn't owe me or you the courtesy of coming up every time he's here to get me. This isn't something either of us willingly chose." Your father's jaw clenches, mouth opening to reprimand you, but your phone buzzes with another notification from Satoru. Giving your father a smile you turn on your heel and walk towards the front doors, "I have to go now. I'll see you later."

Outside parked in the curved driveway of your house, Satoru leans on the driver's side, phone in his hand. His blue eyes are covered by the usual circular sunglasses you had seen him sporting since high school, he's wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the gold watch on his wrist catching the light of the sun. He looks up when the door behind you closes loudly, his glasses falling to the bridge of his nose as he watches you come down the stairs.

"Sure took your time putting on your shoes," he says stuffing his phone into his pocket, walking to meet you at the bottom of the steps.

You shrug, reaching up to push his sunglasses up his nose, "Get used to it," you push past him and walk to the passenger side, letting him open the door, "Getting all dolled up takes time, and it'll take me even more time once we get married. Appearances are everything Satoru."

Leans down to where you're sitting, his blue eyes peeking over the top of his glasses, "You're never going to stop reminding of that are you?"

"No. Especially when I know you're not the best at hiding your entanglements."

Satoru's jaw clenches and he closes the door, making his way to the driver's side. He gets in quietly, revving the engine to life. Neither of you speaks to each other during the car ride, the music playing softly from Satoru's speakers filling in the silence. You find yourself humming as he weaves through traffic to a local bakery your father's secretary had recommended. You can hear Satoru's fingers tapping on the steering wheel, and the sound of the cars pulling past you. The minutes feel as if they drag on forever, neither of you having anything to say to each other before Satoru is pulled next to a few small shops.

He gets out after setting the car in park and turning the engine off, hurrying around to open the door for you, his hand taking yours in his.

Looking around the area you spot a small sign with a cupcake and a sign with the name of the bakery a few feet away from where you stand. It's not much to look at, a little shop with pastel pink shutters, and a white door with a little pink mail slot. Peeking in through the window as you walk up to it you see a few people are inside, waiting for their orders as two people move behind the counter.

Satoru opens the doors to the bakery, his hand finding the small of your back. You can feel the warmth of his palm through the soft material of your shirt, his fingers spread and his thumb rubbing circles. A few of the people already inside turn to look at you, while Satoru leads you to the front lady who's speaking with a customer. His eyes look up to you as she finishes checking out the customer in front of her.

"How can I help you?"

Satoru pushes you closer to the counter, his arm wrapping around your waist almost instinctively, "We're here to try some wedding cakes. I think my fiances assistant set up the appointment."

"Oh, yes of course. Could I please check you in? I'll just need your names," the girl says, clicking a few buttons on the screen.

"Satoru Gojo and y/n l/n."

Moving from behind the counter she comes up to the front, signaling for you to follow her, "Yes I have you right here. If you'll follow me over here, I have your samples ready for you to try."

She leads you to a small table with three plates and three pictured images of the cakes, "I prepared three cakes for you to try, based on what the assistant who set the appointment told me. If none of these are to your liking please let me know and we can discuss what you want or don't. I got told that you have a sweet tooth and that you prefer less sweet things, so I hope these are to your liking," the baker says looking between you and Satoru while moving in front of each plate with a slice of cake."First, we have a raspberry chocolate truffle cake, which consists of a layered chocolate cake with a chocolate ganache and raspberry filling. The cake will be topped with fresh raspberries and chocolate shavings to give it an elegant look. This one is probably on the sweeter side.

Next, I prepared a carrot cake with cream cheese. The cake is sweet but not overwhelmingly, it's fluffy and moist, covered in a sweet cream cheese frosting that brings all the flavors together. Then we have a key lime cake, this one is a personal favorite, and I think it's the right fit for the summer wedding you will be having. The cake is sweet, zesty, and wonderfully creamy. And lastly, there's a strawberry cream cake, it's another three-layer cake that I covered in vanilla buttercream and a homemade jam filling. It'll be topped off with fresh strawberries to add some color to it. I'll leave you two alone to try the samples and if you saw anything in the displays you'd like to try let me know and I'll bring you a slice." The girl nods and leaves you and Satour alone with three cake plates.

"So...which should we try first?" Satoru asks, removing his hand from you, his pink tongue poking out as he looks down at the slices of cake, "They all look really good."

You place your purse on the chair behind you, reaching for the strawberry cake, "I'll have to agree with you they all look delicious, but strawberries are my weakness, so how about we start with this one,"

Satoru watches as you cut a corner of the slice with the fork, "You like strawberries?" You nod your head, lifting the piece to his lips. Satoru feels his heartbeat speed up as you hold the piece up for him to eat. His eyes scan the small crowd, red painting the top of his cheeks before his lips wrap around the fork. "Me too," he says after swallowing the piece, humming from the back of his throat.

"Well that's something new we learn about each other," You say taking a piece for yourself.

Satoru watches as your eyebrows furrow as you take in the taste and texture of the cake. His eyes fall to your lips and the small spec of frosting that decorates the corner of your lips. Without much thought, he reaches up to wipe away, his heartbeat going faster when you look up at him.

You push his hand away from your face softly reaching for the napkin on the table, waving it in front of him, "Thank you, but there's a napkin right here."

Satoru's hand drops and reaches for the raspberry cake, clearing his throat, "Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"It's fine," you offer him the fork, letting him cut a piece. You watch as he gets all layers of the cake onto the fork, blinking up at him when he brings the fork up to your lips. You can hear a few of the other customers whispering as they watch the two of you, a few giggles about how cute you two are reaching your ears. Hesitantly you lean forward and take the piece in your mouth, aware of Satoru's eyes on you, and even more so of the onlooking strangers.

Pulling away, swallowing the sweet piece of cake you wipe the corner of your lips with the same napkin you used, whispering under your breath. "You didn't have to do that."

Satoru takes a bite of the cake, and answers you as he chews, "You said appearances are everything, and we have to appear like a happy couple about to get married. And you were the one that prompted the whole feeding each other thing."

You glare up at him, taking the fork away from him, "In front of people we know, and as far as I can tell no one we know is here." With that you take a piece of the Lime cake, letting the flavor spread along your taste buds. You hum as you savor the cake, your eyes closing, causing you not to notice Satoru moving closer to you.

When you open your eyes you're met with Satoru's blue ones, watching as the white foam-like specs swim in them. His lips are inches from yours, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. He speaks just below a whisper, the sound of his voice sending a shiver up your spine, "If it's all for appearances, maybe we should take this opportunity and practice."

His lips pressed to yours suddenly, tongue slipping into yours when you let out a small surprised gasp. He tastes raspberries and chocolate as his tongue slides against yours. His hand cups your jaw, slowly sliding to grab the nape of your neck, his long fingers running through your hair as he angles your face upwards to deepen the kiss as his tongue tangles itself with yours. His eyes are closed as he explores your mouth with his tongue, sucking a bit on it, his free arm traveling down to yo pull you closer by the waist, so your body is flush against his. As much as you didn't care for him, you would say two things: one, Satoru had very soft lips, and two, he was actually a decent kisser.

Pushing on his chest, you shove him off, your arm reeling back before your hand hits his left cheek. Hard. The sound resonates in the small bakery, attracting the attention of the employees and a few other customers, who look at the two of you in shock. Satoru's head is turned to the left, his jaw clenched and tongue pocking at the cheek you hit from the inside, a bright red mark starting to paint the soft white skin. He breathes out from his nose and turns to look at you, his lips lopsided and eyes filled with mischief.

You seize your bag from the chair you placed it on, slugging it onto your shoulder angrily, your lips set into a stern line and eyes filled with fire. You're voice steady and firm as you scold your future husband, "Touch me again, without my permission, and I'll make you regret it." After gathering yourself completely you walk away from him, huffing, "You choose the cake on your own, you're the one with a sweet tooth anyways."

Satoru watches as you walk away, his fingers grazing over the red mark in the shape of your hand, trailing down to his lips. The same feeling from the times he's seen you the last few weeks gnaw at his stomach. He's confused, angry, and curious. Why was he feeling like this, when he'd spent the majority of his time running from you? Why did it take you rejecting the idea of having any romantic feelings to awaken whatever was sprouting inside of him? He hated you for having him question himself, for making him think of you when he sought the warmth of another to simulate what life at your side would be like when, in truth, he had no idea who you were.

"So you left him to choose the cake?" Shoko asks from your bed, her eyebrows raised in question, and her lips tugging upwards when you nod with a sigh, "What if he chooses something you don't like?"

"Then I don't like it," you answer, taking a sip from the glass of soda next to you, before turning back to apply the skin mask on Utahime's face, "He is the one who rushed this whole thing; let him decide on everything."

"But shouldn't your wedding day be something you also enjoy? It wasn't like he chose to get married all on his own, you approached him," Utahime adds her two cents, her lips barely moving as you apply the cream next to her lips.

You frown, your lips forming a slight pout, concentrating on not getting any of the mask in Hime's mouth "I did, but I didn't tell him to go to my dad and choose a date. I thought I'd a least have a few months to plan the entire thing, not three weeks." Sitting back on your heels, you look at both of them, eyebrows drawn together, "I just don't know what got into him. First, he spends seven years trying to prevent this whole marriage, for whatever reason, and then he decides he wants to get married in a month. I want to know what the fuck is going on in his fucking head for once."

Shoko scurries off the bed, settling beside you with her chin resting on your shoulder, "But there's one thing I'm curious about," you raise an eyebrow at her, wiping your fingers on a towel, "Was the kiss at least good?"

You blink at their curious smiles, your mind subconsciously recalling the feeling of Satoru's lips against yours, and the lingering taste of raspberries on his tongue as it tangled itself with yours. You can still feel the warmth of his head as he cupped your jaw before his fingers intertwined themselves into your hair. How out of breath you had been after you pushed him away and walked out to grab a cab to bring you home. You remember comparing Kenji's sweet kisses to the fiery kiss Satoru pressed to your lips.

Clearing your throat you turn away from them, your face burning, "I don't remember."

The girls giggle pulling on your arm, forcing you to look at them. Utahime's laugh resounds loudly in the room as she tugs, "You did like it! Oh my god! I had faith in you y/n!"

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did! You're basically on fire right now!" Shoko chortles, pushing you to the ground, their fingers attacking your sides, "Admit it! You think that prick is actually a good kisser!"

Your lungs feel like they're burning as they attack your sides, tickling you under your armpits and behind your ears while you continue to shriek that you didn't. The corner of your eyes stings as tears start to form, your head shaking to the sides as they torture you to admit that you enjoyed the kiss.

Giving in you raise your hands in surrender after a few more minutes of torment, air struggling to make its way to your lungs as you gasp for it, "Okay, okay. I liked it a little bit." Shoko climbs off of you, helping you sit back up, "It was the first time I was kissed me like that, and it was...nice. But that doesn't mean I like Satoru!" You exclaim pointing at both of them.

"I believe that part," Utahime says relaxing again, her manicured nails picking at the threads of the rug you sitting on, "I know you're getting married in like two weeks or whatever, but I think it's our place to tell you this. As your frien-"

"Hime please don't. I already made up my mind, and this is for the best." You mumble turning away from them, feeling the mood of the room changing quickly.

"No, y/n. You need to hear this, and I what type of friend would I be if let you get into a loveless marriage with a person you can barely stand."

"Well, whether you tell me or you don't it's not going to change the fact that I have to marry Satoru."

"But why do you have to marry him? Why can't you just tell your dad to fuck off?"

Your chest constricts, and the feeling of the lack of flow of air resettles on your lungs. The scars on your ribs feel as if they bleeding again and every bone in your body screams. The memories of hospital visits flash in the back of your brain. "I just have to, okay?" you mumble, closing your eyes to push the negative feelings out.

Taking note of how your hands have started to tremble, Shoko places a hand on Utahime's shoulder, shaking her head to get Hime to drop the subject. Taking the hint, she sighs and stands up to wash the mask off, "Fine. Do what you think you have to, but just know we want you to be happy."

"I'll be happy once this entire wedding is over," you sigh, breathing starting to feel normal again.

Shoko's face lights up again, standing to grab her phone, "Let's move on to a more positive subject, like...honeymoon planning! I know you said you'd have Satoru choose everything, but I think you should at least go somewhere you can enjoy for your honeymoon," she says sitting down next to you, typing on her phone.

"Did you even talk about going anywhere for your honeymoon yet?" Utahime comes back in.

"We haven't, I don't even think he wants to go anywhere." You say, letting yourself lay down on Shoko's lap, "But I think it'd be a good idea. We'd both get a little break after all this hectic and rushed planning."

"Okay, I'll name places and you tell me yes or no," Shoko instructs, "First I'll ask you some questions and we can narrow it down," you nod and close your eyes.

"Do you want to go somewhere near the sea? Like an island or a beach?"

You shake your head, "Nowhere near the ocean, but somewhere where there's like a river or a small body of water wouldn't be bad."

"Okay, how about mountains?"

"No, and no snow either...no where secluded."

"How about somewhere romantic?"

"As long as it's away from large bodies of water, I'm fine."

"Why away from water?" You hear Utahime ask.

You shrug, "I just don't want to be near the ocean."

Shoko's voice sounds again, "How do you feel about France or somewhere in Europe?"

You think for a second before answering, "Paris would be nice. I always wanted to go when I was little. I'm pretty sure that when Satoru and I were still kids and we played, we would play house and we'd always live in the outskirts of Paris."

"So you do like him," Utahime teases again, poking at your side lightly.

"No, I can't stand him now...he was just sweeter when we were kids," you answer. You feel calm settle over you as you remember the days when you and Satoru would play as children. How he would make you laugh, and the warmth of his small hands clasped with yours as you ran around in the backyards of your houses. Playing in the bushes and the small cottage-themed playhouse his father had customed for the both of you to play set in between your two yards.

Maybe, just maybe your future at his side would be reminiscent of those days.

The small venue your parents rented for the engagement party is brightly lit with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling and white wisteria, and an arrangement of white lilies and candles is placed in the center of the table. There's a violinist placed in a far corner of the room, playing slowly as guests start to walk into the venue. You watch as your mother and mother-in-law greet them while you hide behind one of the columns sipping on a glass of white wine.

You'd arrived at the same time as Satoru's parents and had yet to see your husband-to-be, something you were thankful for. The thought of having to spend a second longer with him than what you were willing to made your skin itch. An itch that only seemed to grow worse when you remember you'd have to let him touch you for the night and then after your wedding for the rest of your life. And then on the nights, you would share your martial bed with him. Your nose scrunches up and you dump the rest of your drink in a nearby planter while sneaking towards the back of the venue to find a small empty powder room.

You barely set your hand on the knob when your father pushes the door open, his shirt slightly out of place and a red stain on his neck where the shirt folds exposing it. Behind him his most recent secretary slides out, eyes widening when she sees you. Your father waves her off, staring down at you as he adjusts his shirt, "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be greeting your guests?"

Your eyes trail after his assistant as she walks off shamefully. The tone of your voice is sharp when your respond, your eyes cold and an eyebrow raised, "your guests, I didn't want this mind you. I said I wanted a small private thing, and you all decide to have this thing. So shouldn't you be the one out there trying to sell off some other poor soul instead of shoving your dick in a hole that'll be gone by the end of the week once mom hears about it?"

A gasp leaves your lips when your father's hand grips your wrist tight enough to hurt you, but not tight enough to leave a mark. That was one thing about your father that always surprised you, how even in moments of anger he knew how to control it enough to not leave any marks where they were visible. "Listen to me, you're going to keep your mouth shut about what you just saw, just like you always have. And you're going to go out there and play your part of a happy wife-to-be to one of the most sought-after bachelors. I don't care if people are going to call you dumb for marrying a man who everyone knows has been sleeping around with women who aren't you." He reads your expression closely when your eyes widened, "What did you think I didn't know about his escapades? Of course, I did, but that doesn't mean that I was going to ruin a perfectly good chance of getting the heir I wanted for the company I've worked all my life to grow." Your father's grip loosens and let's go, resuming to adjusting his suit, "And I'm certainly not going to leave it to you. Now you go out there put on that pretty smile you have and make everyone in this room believe you want this."

Wrestling out of his grip, you let him lead you towards the entrance. You watch as your mother and future in-law smile brightly as someone who is out of your line of vision walks up to them, a second later you see Satoru walking up to them. He kisses his mother on the top of her head before greeting her mother is a kiss on the back of her hand. Straightening himself, his lips move as he looks around the venue. His eyebrows furrowed together as he scans the crowd, falling on you and your father. Inhaling deeply you give the warmest smile you can and increase your steps to get away from your father.

You can feel the looks of people's eyes burning into you when you wrap your arm around Satoru's, pressing your chest to the side of his arm. "You made it," you greet him, fluttering your eyes at him, Everyone understands the double meaning of your words: you actually came and didn't leave me waiting for another seven years.

Warmth spreads across Satoru's face as he feels his elbow digging into the softness of your chest. He tries to ignore the plushness of your breasts pressed against him and the cute expression you make as you look up at him, your eyelashes touching the top of your cheeks. He clears his throat, accepting your arm in his, "Of course."

The back of your head burns as your father watches you both, watches you, so you decide to take it up a step. Getting on your tippytoes you press a soft kiss to Satoru's cheek, near the corner of his lips, your hand coming up to pull him down to you. Everyone is now staring, hands over their chests as they watch the affectionate exchange. "I'm glad," you say loudly, pulling him towards the entrance to take your spots in greeting the guests.

Satoru stares down at you, mouth slightly agape, the warmth of your lips lingering on his cheek. In the back of his head, he knows it was for show, but he can still feel his stomach doing flips and doesn't understand why. Why the girl who's done his best to avoid can make him feel this way? He watches as you greet person after person warmly, making sure to compliment each one. He notes that your words are genuine and that you make everyone feel welcome. It makes him wonder if you had ever been like that if there was something he missed because he was too busy trying to avoid you. He wonders if his imprudence of noticing the small things about you is what made you not like him anymore.

The amounts of people coming seems to decrease after a few minutes and Satoru notices the way you start to shift on your feet uncomfortably. Looking down he notices your wearing a pair of heels that look uncomfortably painful. he tugs you closer to him while leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Should we go find somewhere to sit? Talk for a bit...for appearances at least?"

"I don't have anything to talk to you about, especially after the little stunt you pulled," you say giving a smile to one of your aunts that walks by.

Satoru does the same, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Don't act like you didn't like it...you did kiss me back a little. And didn't you just kiss me out of your own free will?"

He thinks it's cut how you pout, pushing him away from you, grumbling under your breath as you walk away from him, "That was for appearances, so keep being delusional."

Satoru's eyes follow you, watching as the skirt of your dress moves with every step you take to greet the people that come to you, his eyes forming slits when a man stands too close or fingers graze your skin. He watches as women compliment your dress, their fingers tracing the design of the flowers in the air. His eyes follow your fingers, trimmed white nails with the same flower design as your dress catching the light, as they toy with the straight neckline.

He would've stared longer had a hand not fallen on his shoulder, pulling his blue eyes away from you. He finds Naoya standing next to him, eyes filled with her hunger and pink tongue running over his bottom lip as he looks in your direction. Jealously ripples in Satoru's stomach.

"Congrats on the engagement, or should I say, congrats on finally getting married," Naoya says, turning his attention to Satoru, a tight smile on his face before turning back to you, "I bet you're feeling like the luckiest man right now, who would've guess y/n could glow like that. Maybe I should have put a little more effort into getting her in my bed."

Satoru feels something snap, his hand reaching out to grab Naoya by the collar of his jacket, jerking him closer to himself, a few people turn to look at them. Realizing what he's doing he hesitantly lets go, patting his hand on the front of his jacket. "I don't think you should be talking like that about a woman who's about to get married. Especially to her future husband."

Naoya's eyes are open with shock for a bit before a sly smile replaces them, "If I didn't know any better I'd say you sounded a little jealous and protective, Satoru." Sipping for his glass again, Naoya turns his attention to where you've moved to greet the rest of your guests, he raises a hand when Toji waves him over. "Already playing the role of a loving husband...it doesn't suit you."

Satoru stays in his spot, mulling Naoya's words over in his head. What he said was right, Satoru wasn't meant to be someone's husband, he enjoyed the freedom he allowed himself to have when he slept with women. Still, despite spending seven years denying it, he saw himself standing by your side with a ring wrapped around his ring finger.

Taglist(closed): @thetempleofnyx @legbouk @purplecandygerl @cloudsinthecosmos @watyousayin @descargueestoporgojosatoru @moonlightaangel @the-amaranthine @vintagexparker @fushiigumi03 @pyschopotatomeme @mekorausada @belovedcherry @my-names-angel-but-im-not-one @kellyyween @shintin @rntrsuna @crispmarshmallow @weebotaku21 @ekaterinatepes @artemisthestar @levisfav @lezgohome @ilovdabi @winter-bearv @attackonsimpp @chaotic-onigiri @rogueofbullshit

#gojo x reader #gojo x yn #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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rabbitholessk · 2 months

Text

Sharp Memory 🔞

The door to Cardan’s bedchamber creaks open. Light streaks invasively through the crack in the doorway. His heart picks up slowly from his drowsy state.

“Jude?” His voice croaks softly into the pillow that he’s failing to fall asleep on.

No. Jude would have had a knife against his throat already.

“My King,” the High King of Elfhame squints at the doorway from his laid out position on a bed too big for just himself. “...it would honor me greatly to warm your bed.” The fae woman is short, her hair a light green, and her ears far too pointy for his personal preference.

Cardan finally realizes after a wave of rage swiftly passes through him, that he finally needs to bar his doors. He’s kept them open in case Jude finally decided to show herself. Cardan knows Jude is far more cunning to simply stroll through the front door. She’d find a way to get sharp steel against his throat one way or another, doors be damned.

“Be gone. I have no need for you.” Who he needs, craves, desires is off in the mortal realm. Who he wants has failed to respond to any of his letters. Has failed to prove she even thinks of him, in a similar fashion to the way his thoughts plague him about her. Jude was his sweetest damnation.

The fae steps further in, rather than retreating after his rejection.

“My King, my admiration for you is great. I would bring you pleasure unknown.”

Cardan’s rage builds back up, angry bile climbing up his throat.

“I will not tell you again, lest you wish you to see another revel.” Cardan grits through clenched teeth. In the back of his mind he thinks to say, tomorrow. Jude’s violent nature, even in her absence, has rubbed off on him.

The green haired fae stills and her eyes widen in alarm as she gazes past him. Cardan can feel it, he has no need to turn around and confirm what she must see. The land feels his anguish almost as strongly as he does. Vines move unnaturally past him, aggressively reaching for the intrusive fae.

The land once again aids him, this time in running an overstepping fae out of his chambers. Cardan rises from his bed and locks the door to his chamber while he is up. Daylight pours into his room, making him even more drowsy than he already is.

Today he had given his most recent letter addressed to Jude, his wife, the rightful Queen of Elfhame– to his mother to send off. He hopes this one will bring a response, but much like the other four…his hopes are low.

Cardan lays back into his half of the bed. The other half reserved for Jude. He has not had the sheets cleaned since they last lain upon this bed together. After so long Jude’s scent is almost gone. No matter how many times he tries to smell her pillow and fails to capture the memory of her head upon it, beside him, sharing warmth…he comes up short.

The only thing the sheets reek of are his melancholy and failure.

Amidst the disparaging, morose feelings he is enduring a spark is still a light low in his gut. The vague mention of sex from the intruding fae, is now present in his mind, memories of Jude overwhelm him. Her scent of musk and victory, laced with something sweet and so very mortal, force his member to spring to life.

Long neglected since his Queen’s exile, he’s tried not to think of anything in the realm of pleasure. His mind wanders nonetheless. The onslaught of memories and visuals overwhelm him. The way she felt in his arms dancing, the feel of her soft breath against his lips, the cold metal dragging along his throat when she held him hostage in the Court of Shadows, her soft panting when he’d made her come around his fingers.

Alert and aching he flips onto his back from where he’s been resting on his stomach. Recently, when he has risen unwittingly, he’s chosen to ignore the need in hopes it would go away. Presently, he knows he can no longer ignore the infernal aching.

Cardan takes himself in hand, his free arm thrown over his eyes to block the streaks of light infiltrating his room. He sleeps naked so there is no need to fumble with the fabric of his clothes besides the silk sheets of his too big of a bed.

The memory, coated in darkness, outlined in a grainy vignette of his and Jude’s romp on the couch back when she was simply his seneschal— provides him with the material he needs to keep himself motivated.

Cardan brings the hand that had been wrapped around his throbbing cock towards his mouth. He spits into his palm, providing lubrication, then gets back to work.

He strokes fluidly, better now with the assistance of lubricant. A muted gasp escapes his lips, and a few loose dark curls fall over his eyes.

He doesn’t care if he comes as fast as he did his first time. He doesn’t care if he’s alone.

He cares only for Jude.

Cardan wrenches the sheets from his heated skin, throbbing and stroking with urgency he hobbles to his dresser throwing open drawer after drawer amidst his hand pumping furiously at his length.

“Fuck.” Cardan grunts, tugging open one of the smaller drawers, revealing his frequently favored jewelry. At the very back of the drawer rests his most treasured memento of Jude.

He lets go of his rigid member and reaches in for the stolen dagger. He still can’t believe he had gotten away taking it from her. His training from the Court of Shadows has proven more useful than he ever could have imagined.

Cardan glances down at his rigid cock, observing the way a drop of his syrupy pre-cum dribbles to the stone floor beneath him. It reminds him of the time with Jude on the couch once more. After he had her writhing on his fingers he’d pulled two of them out of her slick heat and observed the mess they had made. His hand had been coated in her essence. Tangy and musky, and so very Jude.

Her taste was even better than feeling her from the inside.

Cardan groans and places the dagger into his mouth. Holding the hilt between his teeth, as he closes his eyes and takes himself back in hand. Rubbing his thumb over his tip he collects a fair amount of pre-cum and goes back to stroking.

The pressure builds after a few moments. One hand massages his sack, while the other squeezes and glides furiously. His moans muffle from the dagger held between his teeth.

It’s not enough. It’s not Jude.

If he can’t have her here with him, he can at least pretend.

Huffing, he removes the sharp steel from his mouth. His eyes are still clamped tight, as he holds the sharp edge of the blade to his own throat.

The effect is instantaneous. Imagining Jude, with all her ire, and hatred for him he pretends it’s her holding the dagger to his throat as he pleasures himself.

His end nears, a choked sob sounds from the back of his throat. He’s sure the guards stationed outside the door can hear him. A flash of Jude’s cinnamon skin, the memory of her wrath shining through her caramel eyes. The soft sound she made when her cunt clenched around his fingers for the first time–

–his end arrives in thick rivulets of his seed. Splotches smatter on the top of his dresser, most of the mess lands on his hand. With a clang he drops the dagger and leans against the polished cabinetry before him. Heaving in deep breaths, he stares into the mirror before him. The dismal shell of the King of Faerie stares back.

With his head clear and his balls empty, Cardan can only hope that his newest letter brings his Queen back to him.

#cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jude x cardan #the queen of nothing #smut #jurdan #the ao3 link will be in the comments

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dcandyland · 9 months

Text

(Sorry for how sappy this is about to get I am just having so Many Thoughts over your Middle Aged Man)

*comes and settles by Eclipse's side*

Eclipse... why do you hunt down your own creations to kill? Why would you consider consuming your own sons? Your own lights? Are you trying to truly create darkness, by snuffing them out? Did you make them as your opposites, the light against the darkness? The celestial bodies that can combine for a blinding light?

Or are you trying to be forgotten? Are you actually just wanting to isolate yourself? You live in a cave, you hide from the world, you seek that everyone you knew and loved is no longer alive. Is that how you want to die? To just disappear instead? Are you trying to make it so your sons don't have to witness your death, go through the same thing you did? Or are you trying to just escape, far away where you can no longer be reached, in a world so distant it can't be seen? To hide, or to restart?

You may be called Eclipse, Finsternis, "Darkness", "Failure", "Extinction", "The End", but are you not also "Loss"? And "Veil"?

I suppose that can be understandable. You probably think that'd be the best outcome, right? To just fade out? Flare out, even? Like a meteor does on impact?

You know, in our world, a meteor surely did cause the end of almost all life, at least once. It was followed by a great darkness that drowned and choked almost everything. But from that darkness, from the literal ashes, came light, and life, again.

Many, many things changed. Meteors are great stones of brilliant fire, bringing terrible destruction and shockwaves of change, and also... a lot of The End.

Have you considered that your father made you the way you are, in similar fashion? You were made to be what comes after a meteor impact? You have brought the light, now you're trying to bring the life. Pret-ty coincidental, I think.

And those lives... You've committed many sins, you say it's for the better of Candyland... Are you simply shouldering those sins yourself on purpose? Instead of sacrificing people, you're actually sacrificing yourself? A martyr, in a sense, becoming a demon on purpose, because it doesn't matter what happens to you, but rather... what happens to Candyland - and more importantly, your sons? So you're willing to become that demon if it means a better, fuller life for your sons?

You made them to love each other. Not so much to love yourself. It may hurt and anger you that they seem to hate you, but something tells me you're more fine with it than you had initially let on. A necessary sacrifice for their greater good, I suppose... Make your suffering be The End of the suffering?

You made them sooner than others so they wouldn't see you die, didn't you? And did you push them away so they wouldn't become too attached? So it wouldn't hurt them the same way it has hurt you?

You seem full of secrets. Secrets are meant to block the truth. Obfuscate. Cloud. Most people with secrets, tend to be barely glued together. They hold secrets to avoid further pain, whether their own, their loved ones', or both. The secrets are a mask for the small, scared child within.

What truths are you eclipsing, Eclipse?

Which manner of eclipse are you, Eclipse?

You seem rather tragic. You don't have to be. I think it would help to talk to your sons, on a nice, non-attacking level. And I think, regardless of what they say and do, they would actually be rather sad for you to just disappear forever, to fade into another plane entirely. I think they would be full of regret for all the times they didn't get to speak to you. I think you would be too.

You regret not spending enough time with your own dad, right? You feared him, now they fear you. You stress when he's mentioned, now they stress over you. You are heartbroken, and you break their hearts.

If you were meant to be the End of the cycle, the traditions, if you were meant to be a vehicle of change - or even if you just wanted that yourself, purpose be damned - I think you're going about it the wrong way.

Is that the bright future you dreamed of? Seems awful dim and anguished, for everyone involved, don't you think? Is that how you want The End to come, o great threshold?

Just some thoughts to chew on.

tl;dr Get Off This Path of Destruction and Get a Lil Therapy Purrhaps, My Good Bitch.

---------------------------------‐----------------

#submission #dca!candyland #ooc)#trashlate

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abybweisse · 1 year

Note

Hello! Not a kuro related ask but can i ask how can u tell if someone is a bot or not on tumblr? Also can they do any harm to your account?

⚠️ I originally expected to give a short answer, but there's actually a lot I can say about this, having become a regular target of bots. My blocked list has quite the collection! So it's kind of a long post.

How to spot bots and why they are bad

Some bots are easy to spot while others are not. And they are getting harder to spot, as whoever programs the bot generators is learning how to make them less noticeable. Or an AI that's been made is learning. 😳

Blog name patterns

You might have noticed how default blog urls here have four random words stuck together, and early bots used a similar pattern. But it has evolved. I recall seeing names that were two or three random words and a two digit number, typically from 20 to 50, presumably meant to be seen as a person's age. Like these:

Then a different pattern was used, like two or three words then a hyphen then a number. Then another, like a first name mixed in with random words, etc. Now, it's harder to see a pattern, so some bot names now look more (or less) random... more like real blogs. If you see a new follower with a random name, it doesn't mean much, but if you see more and more followers with names that seem to fit a pattern (and it's not simply the tumblr default username pattern), then chances are, they are bots created with the same or a similar program. Here's an example of getting new followers where the names seem too random to be real but you don't really notice until you get a bunch in a row, and the randomness is itself a pattern:

Profile pics that real tumblrs wouldn't choose

Often they used to have closeups of female faces. Now they still tend to have pictures of women, but not so zoomed in, and some even feature two women. Like here:

Notice that three of the above examples follow a naming pattern of what could be actual people names and a number. The fourth is like that, too, but with a hyphen tossed in.

And bots sometimes have default profile pics that may or may not be changed later, so watch out for default pfp's that later get replaced with pics of random women. Usually young and somewhat attractive. Most of the bots are geared towards attracting hetero men, hence the female pfp's of generally attractive women. The hope is we see one of these pics and think that's actually what the blogger looks like.

Truth is, Tumblrs rarely choose pfp's like that. This isn't the kind of social media platform where we typically show our faces (unless it's a personal fashion or cosplay blog, and then we are probably wearing makeup and costumes). We choose pics of plants and animals, fictional characters, historical figures, celebrities, artwork, etc. It's unusual for us to market ourselves based on personal appearance. So, when you see a blog with a pfp that looks like it's from Instagram or LinkedIn... or from a dating profile... it's probably fake. They are just random pics found online and essentially stolen from whoever originally uploaded them.

Default header images or more random women

Usually, bots have blank or default blog header images (see the examples above). I used to see a lot of bot blogs where the pic used for the header is the same as the pfp; those usually have descriptions where it's just a name and a suggestive emoji or a name and a plug for dirty pictures. Like:

More recently, they've started using images that show women who match or at least look like the women in their pfp's, but they aren't the same photos. Just like those pfp's, the header images are likely stolen from profiles elsewhere or random pics online. The ones that have header images that "work" with the pfp's also have a tendency to include links in their blog descriptions.

Sus blog descriptions or none at all

Most bot blogs lack blog descriptions entirely or just have a name or something about photos, like those examples above. But lately I've been seeing ones where there's a short description. In those cases, it's usually a link to who knows where, and it's best not to even find out. The text, whether there's a link or not, is usually an age (assume that's fake), something about the person's identity or preferences (often of a sexual nature), sometimes a reference to ranking on OnlyFans (it wants you to think any link there might take you to that sort of content), and a collection of oddly chosen emojis mixed into it.

Zero posts or sus posts and reblogs

A lot of legit blogs are created for the sole purpose of following content they want... and maybe asking questions, usually as anons. Those "don't follow me, I'm just lurking" type blogs rarely post or even reblog anything. Most bots also take this approach.

But some reblog sexually suggestive posts and some reblog more explicit content -- even links advertised as naughty games -- but the most realistic looking ones reblog a mix of sexual and innocuous, even innocent-looking content. As you scroll down through images of puppies, mysteriously inviting landscapes, and teacups next to open books... you eventually find images and even sometimes gifs of very mature content. Often with suggestive emojis and links that should be avoided at all costs. Some even just make one or two posts with links and leave the blogs untouched for years. Like this one:

This blog only has one post, and it's from 2019. Claims about some free training program that'll earn you large incomes. Notice the tags on it are kind of generic, and some don't fit, like #home #decor #gardening. But it's a link to... something.

They might try to chat, but what they say is sus

It's very rare, in my experience, but I will occasionally get a dm from a random blog that just doesn't sit right.

Sure, sometimes a new follower will contact me to let me know they found my blog and enjoy it. Even longtime, mostly silent readers/followers will occasionally decide to reach out and privately tell me they were a particular anon in an ask... or simply that they finally found the nerve to say hi. That's all fine and dandy.

But when a new follower (who doesn't seem to share interests with you or has interests that don't match your blog topic) or a random content blog that doesn't even follow you just dms with "hi" or "how are you?", I get very suspicious it's just a bot. Their blog might look default or not but lacks content. It might be full of content that simply has nothing to do with your content. And they send a random starter message, completely open to your response. You can test them by asking if they are a bot. If they ignore that and respond with something like "I'm lonely" or "what are you doing tonight?", they are definitely a bot. If they say "no I'm not a bot" (or something like that) then ask leading questions like the "what are you doing" one, they might not be a bot, but they are likely just phishing/scamming.

One of the best tests is to ask them what they think about your own blog posts. If they ignore that and act like they might be following a script? Bot. If they say something very generic, like "I like it a lot" but immediately change the subject back to personal questions or something phishy (might also be a bit scripted)? Scammer. Either way, best to report the chat as spam, which will also remove the conversation from your view.

It's often not one thing but a combination

If you get followed by a blog that looks completely default, the best thing to do is maybe dm them to ask if it's a real person/legit blog. If they don't respond within a decent timeframe, they might just be too shy, but chances are they are a bot. If they respond with something that feels too general or scripted, probably either a bot or a scammer -- some are sleepers that wait for you to contact them. But a blog just being default doesn't mean it's bad; it could be a shy lurker or it could be someone new to tumblr who hasn't chosen pics, themes, etc. yet.

However, if you see a follower pop up (either new or their blog has changed since they started following), and the blog has some combo of the traits mentioned above, chances are super high it's a bot.

What bots do

I'm not entirely certain about all the different things they can do, and some of the things are likely more harmful than others.

I've gleaned a few ideas from posts I've read about the bots, though, including a good one I saw that had been reblogged by Neil Gaiman. I reblogged it from him, though I might have moved it to @aby-off-topic.

My understanding is that the same creator (person or program) makes a whole bunch of them. And there are probably many different individual creators, each making large groupings of them. Some of the bot blogs have content, usually of a sexual nature but occasionally not, like cryptocurrency or some random-sounding business venture. Those will have links to other sites, though some might actually link to other, related blogs in the same grouping. The content blogs also tend to be full of various tags, typically reusing key tags copied from the posts they reblog. If they have "original" posts, those will probably have the same key tags. The grouped content blogs boost each other and make their suspicious content become more noticeable to users who follow certain tags. It mostly clutters those tags with useless content, annoying those tag followers. But the point of them is to lure in the occasional individual who doesn't know any better; once they click a link, they could fall victim to stuff like:

Automatic exposure to malware

Mature content that requires payment (and might steal personal and financial information at the same time)

Phishing attacks of various kinds

Cryptocurrency and/or NFT scams

Companies that sell fake products (like cheap knockoffs, items that just don't work as promised, and items that are never shipped and might not even exist in stock/inventory)

People who try to recruit for MLM (multi level marketing), pyramid schemes, and similar money pits. These days it could still include wasteful timeshare programs, but now there are AirBnB scams and all sorts of things. Something that requires a time and money commitment and promises profit or some other benefit, but it just drains your energy and funds. Someone profits, but it's not you.

The bots that have no content except links in their descriptions are just hoping someone clicks. Then the unwitting person might fall prey to the same things listed above.

Bots that just follow but have zero content? Well, that's possible but not always true. The ones that truly have zero content might want you to interact with them in messages. Other bots don't have any posts or reblogs, but they might allow you to see the posts they've ❤️'d and/or the blogs they follow. You have to check out their Likes and Follow tabs to get this information, so it makes the blogs seem kind of legit and innocent. You are snooping around their blog, after all, right? But some of the posts they "like" and some of the blogs they follow will send unsuspecting individuals down a rabbit hole that might quickly lead to content blogs with those same suspicious links and too-good-to-be-true schemes.

Harming your blog

Ultimately, their main goals are to part people from their money and steal information. But they can cause problems for your blog, too. Like:

Decreased exposure 1: By making your posts disappear in a sea of junk posts with the same tags, it might be harder for new readers to find your content that matches their interests.

Decreased exposure 2: Similarly, people who follow certain tags and typically read your content that way might stop following those tags. They might choose to follow you directly, but they might not. They might unfollow a tag and then realize they don't recall your blog name. Some will be interested enough to figure it out and others won't.

Damaging your reputation: It's not common now, and changes to the website/app might have actually helped to stop this, but some blogs used to reblog others' posts with one or more images, remove the original text, then add their own links and tags. This happened to several of my old posts, too, and the alterations made it look like I'd posted manga panels or whatever with a link to a porn site or something. I had to report the reblogs and also assure readers that my original posts didn't contain these potentially harmful links. To get this remedied, I think I had to use a special reporting method that allowed me to give the Tumblr reps specific information about what the blogs were doing to my post content. I also explained that those blogs were doing the same thing to posts from other bloggers. Were they truly bots? Idk, but possibly.

Simply put, they can decrease your exposure to readers, make the tagging feature less useful for everyone, and even cause a PR nightmare for your blog. All in the name of trying to scam the occasional person who falls into their traps.

When you decide a blog must be a bot, please report them as SPAM (more likely to get it removed) and block it.

#off topic #but important #tumblr bots #stop the bots #how to spot them #why they are bad #anon asks #i answer #answered asks #this has been a psa #feb 25 2023 #long reads #long post

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m1ckeyb3rry · 7 months

Text

Pomegranate Ink: XIV

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: The beginning of the new school year leads to reunions with some familiar faces.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: uhh rare pomegranate ink update ig

“You really don’t have to do this,” Yuta said, staring at the envelope in your hands so intensely you wondered if he thought he could burn it with his glare.

“How am I supposed to reach grade one status if I never go on any supervised missions? It’ll be fine. I doubt the higher ups or Gojo would let me be with someone as dumb and useless as Naoya, and worst comes to worst, there’s always Tullia Ex Machina,” you said, referring to how Tullia had drank your poisoned blood so that you could survive the attack from the cursed spirit you and Naoya had had to fight during your last supervised mission.

“Don’t rely on that!” Yuta said.

“I was just kidding. But, really, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you said, patting him on the shoulder and then tearing the envelope open. You were surprised that the mission directions had come by mail instead of digitally, as they usually did, but maybe whoever you were reporting to was old fashioned.

“Who’s taking you?” he said. You actually gagged aloud as you read over the letter.

“Fucking Principal Gakuganji!” you said. Yuta made a similar face to yours.

“I’m sorry to hear it,” he said. The principal of the Kyoto school was nothing like Principal Yaga; in fact, Principal Gakuganji had been one of the ones pushing the hardest for Yuta’s execution, back when he still had Rika. You knew him very well as the representation of everything you hated about jujutsu society and the higher ups, and as you were trying to break free from that whole scene, it was all in all not the greatest match up.

“Whatever, I guess I’ll just have to deal with it,” you said. “Would you say this is better or worse than Naoya?”

“Hm, probably better, if only because Gakuganji respects the hierarchies of jujutsu society at least a bit. He probably won’t let you get hurt, because the Kamos and your own family would be furious. Naoya’s a Zenin, so he was at least able to get away with a little bit due to his family’s protection, but Gakuganji can’t claim the same. That said, both are annoying. Why don’t they just let you go with Principal Yaga or Gojo?” Yuta said.

“I actually don’t know,” you said. “I mean, Nanami and Kaito aren’t allowed to supervise me because they’re the ones that gave my recommendation, but there’s no reason why Gojo or Principal Yaga couldn’t. Even Kusakabe, who’s now our direct teacher, can technically take me along with him if he wants. Those three just aren’t able to recommend me for promotion, but since I’ve already gotten the recommendation…”

“Weird,” Yuta said. “I can ask them about it while you’re gone.”

“I’d appreciate it if you would, thanks,” you said. “Knowing my luck, it’s probably some political nonsense blocking them.”

“When will those dumb old men leave you alone?” Yuta sighed.

“Probably never,” you said. “It’s sad, but as long as I have the capability to heal others, they won’t let me go. I’m too valuable to their cause, and because my family is so entrenched in their power structure, they think I’ll eventually fold and join them.”

Something uncomfortable arose on Yuta’s face. “By the way, speaking of such things…”

“Hm? Is something the matter?” you said. He began to fiddle with the two rings on his finger, a nervous habit he had picked up in recent times.

“Y/N,” he said, and then suddenly he was gripping your hand so tightly it was a wonder it did not break. “If I had to go somewhere far away, would you break up with me?”

“Huh? Why are you asking me that?” you said, taken aback. “That’s not really related to what we were talking about earlier at all.”

“Just answer. Please,” he said.

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, if you went somewhere far away and stopped talking to me entirely, I guess it would happen naturally…but I would miss you very dearly, and I would not find a new man until I knew for certain that you did not want me anymore,” you said.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s a relief.”

“Is there a reason you’re asking me that, or are we just at the point in our relationship that we ask each other weird questions? Because if so, I have to know: would you still love me if I was a worm?” you said.

“Obviously,” he said. “And no, it’s not hypothetical. Gojo wants to send me to Africa.”

You paused, tilting your head so that you could really look at him and discern whether he was telling the truth or not. His expression was carefully neutral, only barely hinting at the despair broiling beneath the surface, and he was such a bad liar that you knew this was not a falsehood.

“Africa’s a big continent,” you said. “Did he specify a country? At least a region?”

“No,” Yuta said.

“He wouldn’t,” you said with a sigh. “How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to train with some sorcerer contact he has in the area, don’t ask me which area, I don’t know, and I guess it’s until that sorcerer thinks I’ve learned all I can from him,” he said.

“I see,” you said. “And you’re worried I’ll find someone new while you’re in some as-of-yet-unknown-African country?”

“A little bit,” he admitted.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you said with a frown.

“It’s not that I think you would, it’s just…I am afraid,” he said.

“You shouldn’t be,” you said. He gave you one of his looks, those wounded-deer ones that made you want to hold him tightly and tell him it would be alright, but since you had no idea when you would be interrupted by someone or another, you settled for squeezing his hand. “Really, Yuta, I’m being honest. I know you’re scared, but distance is the easiest opponent we’ve had to face by far. What is an ocean to Suguru Geto?”

He let out a surprised yet delighted laugh. “Well! I’d say it’s something.”

“But not more than we can face. We can video call every day, and you can tell me all about how much you’re learning and all of the sunshine you’re enjoying,” you said, using your other hand to poke him in the ribs. “You worry too much. It will be fun! Think of it positively.”

“What will you do while I’m away?” he said, though he was not nearly as morose anymore.

“I’ll train,” you said. “Exorcise curses. Spar with Maki. Complain about the higher ups. Get enough supervised missions in so that I can become an official grade 1 sorcerer.”

“Do you think I should go?” he said.

“Of course I think you should go. I will miss you, but you can’t pass up an opportunity like this,” you said. “Maybe I’ll be a grade 1 by the time we meet again!”

“I bet you will be,” he said. “You’re the coolest sorcerer ever.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I probably shouldn’t keep Principal Gakuganji waiting for too long. There’s no sense in making him cranky — I doubt he’s pleased with my promotion as it is,” you said.

“Good luck,” he said, glancing at the door and then leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. “Don’t let him bully you.”

“Of course not,” you said. “And you should get to packing. You don’t want to forget stuff, and I’m sure if you know about the trip, it means you have to go soon. Gojo…is not the type to give advance warning for just about anything.”

“You’re right,” Yuta said with a sour face. “See you later.”

“See you!” you said, humming to yourself as you headed towards the meet-up spot Principal Gakuganji had indicated in the letter. You still thought it was a little ridiculous that he insisted on communicating via letter for something so important, but you supposed it was just one of those idiosyncrasies that old people tended to have.

“Y/N L/N,” Principal Gakuganji said in that wheezing voice of his that you so detested. You fought back a frown, wishing that for once you could have someone supervising you that you actually liked, or at the least tolerated.

“Principal Gakuganji,” you said. He motioned for you to follow him, which you did your best to do without completely overtaking him. As expected, he moved at a sedate pace, and you had to purposefully shorten your stride so that he could keep up, which you would’ve rolled your eyes at if you hadn’t already made an enemy of your first supervisor.

“You’ve given that young man Naoya a lot of trouble,” he said.

“He’s the one who’s given me trouble!” you snapped. “I almost died because of him! I would’ve died, if it weren’t for Tullia. How can you say that I’m the troublesome one?”

“We both know he wouldn’t have let you actually die. Here you are, perfectly fine and going on your second mission, and his entire future’s been ruined. After all, he’s been suspended, and even once the suspension’s complete, it’ll take a while for him to regain people’s respect,” Principal Gakuganji said.

“He doesn’t deserve respect. He knowingly put a young sorcerer at risk, and for what? Personal amusement? He should be expelled from jujutsu society, if you ask me. Why is it that it would be a greater crime for me to cheat on Noritoshi than for Naoya to try and kill me?” you said as you entered the mission site and Principal Gakuganji put down a veil. It was a small school, reminiscent of the one where you had met Yuta, and the reminder only made you feel even more irritated with the principal and with the situation at large. How dare he demand that you feel sympathy for Naoya? It ought to be the other way around.

“You are weak,” Principal Gakuganji said. “You have relatively little to offer jujutsu society. That is to say, you are expendable — besides your massive aptitude for healing, which you refuse to tap into. It’s strange, you know, that you are so mediocre at fighting yet you insist on contributing in that way instead of giving in to your natural place in society. Then, to add insult to injury, you have taken one of the actually talented sorcerers out of commission in your desperate attempt to prove yourself. In truth, Miss L/N, I believe you should quit now before you get someone else killed. Maybe you don’t care about Naoya, or about me, but what about your precious friends? What if your incompetence leads to one of their deaths? That special-grade freak boy. The American girl. The panda or the Inumaki heir. What about Maki Zenin? If it was her who died, would you care?”

“Dissection,” you said coldly, hurling the needle towards Principal Gakuganji. His eyes widened, but it flew harmlessly above him and into the heart of the curse which had arisen behind him. The curse exploded, and the veil shattered as the being it had been made to contain was exorcised. “Principal Gakuganji, you should pay more attention to your surroundings. Have you been checked for dementia recently? Perhaps you should be. After all, anyone in their right mind would know that I was promoted for a reason.”

“Miss L/N!” Principal Gakuganji said. “You would do well to revere your elders.”

“And you would do well to know not to talk about them like that. I don’t want to hear it,” you said. “The next time you mention my friends — the next time you even dare to say Maki’s name — I will aim my needle a little lower, and I will not miss.” You turned to leave before pausing and looking back at him, bowing slightly. “Thank you for accompanying me on this mission. I am sure that my act of saving your life and exorcising the curse alone will be enough to earn your recommendation, and I look forward to serving alongside you as a grade one sorcerer one day.”

That summer was busy. Yuta left, but it was such a non-event that you almost did not comprehend it. You wanted to miss him, but you did not have the time to, not when the higher-ups were working you to the bone in an attempt to delay your promotion. The same was happening to Todo — you both were far too young to be traditionally considered Grade 1 sorcerers, so they were doing everything they could to stop you from advancing in the ranks before you promised to be compliant.

But compliance was not in Todo’s nature, and it was no longer the cloak you wished to don. Whether by luck or skill or particularly understanding mentors, you and Todo continued to grow closer and closer to that one final goal of yours, the one where you finally joined the upper echelons of jujutsu society. Recommendation after recommendation, they began to stack up, and it became something like a game for those inclined to betting. Who would be promoted first? You or him?

Maybe that was why you were called together to jujutsu headquarters, a joke by the higher ups, just another attempt in their long history at pissing sorcerers off. Or maybe it was like a kind of poetry, that you had been recommended together and thus would be promoted together. Either way, two weeks before the term began, you and Todo became official first grade sorcerers, making you the youngest in recent history.

“It seems our competition has come to a close,” Todo said as you walked together, you casually sipping on the drink he had bought for you.

“I guess that’s true,” you said.

“There’s no goal for us anymore. What do we do with ourselves? I don’t want our rivalry to end!” he said. You tossed your empty cup in the trash can and frowned when you saw he was furiously wiping away tears.

“Aw, Todo, there’s always goals. Just because we’re Grade 1 sorcerers doesn’t mean we’re at our peaks yet, which means we still have a long way to go before we can put our rivalry to rest,” you said. He burst into sobs, so you reached up and hugged him, patting his back.

“Y/N, I am so proud to — to call a woman like you my counterpart!” he wailed, picking you up and holding you tightly.

“I’m proud to call you my counterpart, too,” you said, unfortunately well-used to his antics by now and even more well-used to the strange looks you always garnered from passersby.

Todo was a little strange, but at the end of the day, he was the kind of person you knew you could rely on. You had learned very quickly that such people were few and far in between, and so you had resolved to cling on to him with all of your might. For his part, he was delighted to have someone who entertained his antics, so he was fiercely loyal to you, and his affection was only outweighed by his zeal in trying to defeat you.

“How has Okkotsu been, anyways?” he said. You smiled slightly.

“He’s been very good,” you said. Todo elbowed you in the side; coming from him, it all but bowled you over, or at least it would’ve if you hadn’t expected it and braced yourself for the impact.

“He’ll be back to compete in the exchange event, won’t he? I need to redeem myself for last year,” he said.

“You don’t want to redeem yourself for your loss against me?” you said. He grinned.

“Of course I’ll do that as well, but since you’re my rival, it only makes sense that you’ll beat me every now and then. There’s no shame in losing to you,” he said.

“There’s not really any shame in losing to Yuta, either, I mean he is a special grade sorcerer,” you said. Todo shook his head.

“That’s exactly it. If I can defeat him, then I will truly have proven myself in a way that no one can argue with,” he said.

“I think you’re out of luck, unfortunately,” you said. “He’s not going to be back for a while, I’m afraid.”

“Make him return. Use your special love powers or something to bring him back!” Todo said. You gave him a dull look and wished Yuta had never named you as his type of woman back during the last exchange event. Recently, Todo had figured out that it was not just that you were Yuta’s type but that you were actually together, and ever since then, he had been relentless in teasing you about it.

“I don’t have special love powers, so you’re just going to have to be content with fighting me and the rest of the first and second years,” you said.

“Not even the third years?” Todo said, aghast. You shook your head.

“Nope, they were all suspended, remember? I have no idea what they’re up to now, but whatever it is, they won’t be at the event,” you said. “That’s why we’re going to have to drag the first years into it. Whoever they are.”

“You’re going to be at such a disadvantage,” Todo said with a disapproving scowl. “Fighting with people you barely know! Normally, you get at least a year to become acquainted with your classmates and team members, so you understand their strengths and weaknesses intimately, but this year, you’ll be fighting with first years! Not only will you not know their skills, they themselves won’t!”

“It worked well enough for Yuta and I last year,” you said. “Don’t forget that a couple of first years beat you back then.”

“Yeah, true,” Todo said, and then he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “But I’m sure the two of you knew each other more than intimately by that point.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, smacking his bicep, which had all the effect of slapping a rock wall in that it probably hurt you more than it hurt him. “That’s not true. We were just the better team then, and we’ll be the better team again this year. Even without Yuta, you all are going to have to contend with Maki.”

“Maki Zenin?” Todo said. “I’m told she’s a weakling.”

“Whoever told you that was wrong,” you said, though without the typical anger you felt when people spoke about Maki in that way. Todo was, if anything, a fair man, and you knew he wouldn’t make such assumptions about Maki if he actually knew her. He could only parrot what he had heard until this point, and it wasn’t his fault that the only people in Kyoto who knew about her hated her.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said. “And I will be prepared to fight this woman that you think so highly of.”

“As if you’ll get a chance,” you said with a grin. “Remember, I’ll be there, too. Who cares about the rest of the participants? They’ll duke it out as they do every year. The fight to watch, the fight that’ll determine the match — that’ll be ours.”

Todo nodded. “True. It’s been far too long since we’ve faced off. The thought of our next battle will carry me through the days until we meet again.”

“We can still meet, idiot,” you said, rolling your eyes affectionately. “I expect you to visit when you can and buy me dinner.”

“My, my,” Todo said. “Demanding!”

“It’s the price you pay for having lost to me at the exchange event. If you win the next one, I’ll pay for you for the rest of the year,” you said, offering him your hand. He took it and shook it firmly.

“Very well! And if you win again, things will continue as they have?” he said, referring to your habit of making him buy you something every time the two of you hung out.

“It sounds like a deal to me,” you said.

“Then to me as well,” he said.

“Since we just made that deal, I would like for you to know that I’m hungry,” you said.

“I just bought you a drink!” Todo said. You batted your eyelashes.

“It’s the price which a loser must pay,” you said.

“Fine,” he grumbled out. “But only because I’m hungry, too.”

“Yay!” you cheered.

“I’m going to drain your bank account once you lose the next event, by the way!”

“As if I’d ever lose to you!”

Returning to the school after the summer break was more like coming home than leaving it in the first place had ever been. The instant you saw your room, still exactly the same as it had been when you had last shut the door on it, you almost burst into tears. Tossing the curtains open, you closed your eyes, allowing the sunshine to warm your skin, the pleasant scent of the candles you always lit filling your nose again for the first time in a while.

“Someone’s happy to be back,” a familiar voice said. You opened your eyes and spun on your heel, beaming when you saw who it was.

“Tullia!” you said, racing over and throwing your arms around her, an embrace which she reciprocated just as tightly. Shortly after the entire debacle with Naoya and Elakshi, Tullia had gone back to America to spend time with her family. She had only flown back into Tokyo yesterday, so this was your first time seeing her since her departure, and a knot in your stomach that you had not even known existed unraveled at the reunion.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said. “I saw you walk into your room, but I wanted to give you a minute to settle in before I stopped by. Maki and the others just went to eat, but I told them I’d wait for you.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Should we go meet up with them, then?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

“So, how was your summer, Miss Beach Body?” you said. She grinned, subconsciously running a hand through hair highlighted by the sun’s rays and the salt of the ocean.

“It was great,” she said. “I just spent the entire time relaxing. You’d be jealous of the amount of books I read while lying in the sand.”

“I’m quite sure I would be,” you said with a frown, thinking back to the utter lack of relaxation you had had this summer before internally shrugging. Next summer, you would take time off for sure. And by then Yuta would be back — maybe you both could go on a vacation together.

“At least you’re finally a grade 1 sorcerer!” she said. “That’s so official sounding. I can’t believe one of my best friends is a grade 1 sorcerer.”

“And one of the others is a semi-grade 1,” you said. Tullia’s face lit up.

“Toge! I forgot about that! I’ll have to congratulate him on the promotion,” she said. “That’s so awesome. Maybe he’ll be official, soon, too.”

“It’s likely,” you said. “He’s a really talented sorcerer.”

The corners of her lips curved up slightly as she stared at the ground. “He is, isn’t he?”

“You aren’t far behind,” you said, making a mental note of the development. “As long as you perform as well at the next exchange event as you did last Christmas, you’ll definitely get enough recommendations to be promoted.”

“You can count on it,” she said, clenching her fist. “You know, I talked a lot with my parents while I was at home. I was so hurt when they made me come here, but now — now I understand why they did it. I’m not so angry at them anymore. I just want to make them proud, and if becoming a first grade sorcerer is how I can prove that I’m not a waste, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“You’re not a waste either way,” you said, wondering how productive her conversation with her parents had actually been, based on what she was saying, “But I’ll support you in whatever you do.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said. You paused as you reached the wing of the school where the teachers’ offices were, and then you turned to Tullia.

“Do you mind if I duck in here really quickly?” you said. She let out a laugh, likely knowing exactly what your business was in the part of the school that you rarely visited.

“Not at all. Do you want me to wait?” she said. You shook your head.

“No, go ahead without me,” you said. “You have someone to congratulate, after all.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she opened her mouth to protest before shutting it again and nodding firmly, giving you a thumbs up.

“I’ll do that,” she said.

“See you soon!” you said, waving at her before turning and heading in the opposite direction, first walking and then running towards the office you knew would have its door slightly ajar, music wafting into the hallway as its owner worked — maybe it would be Taylor Swift, he had really been getting into her the last you had heard.

“You got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt! And I got that — Y/N?” Gojo stopped singing and yelped in surprise when you burst into his office, his stack of papers falling to the ground and fluttering about everywhere. You took no heed of them, leaping over the ones that seemed particularly important and crashing into him in excitement.

“Gojo!” you said. “I’m a grade 1 sorcerer now!”

“Yes, you are!” he said, ruffling your hair as you leaned against his chest, cognizant of the fact that he had turned his Infinity off at the last moment to catch you and feeling a burst of affection towards him for the fact. “However, you know I knew that already, right?”

“But this is the first time I’ve gotten to see you in person since it happened,” you explained. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m very proud of you.”

It was nice to hear that from him. Even though Gojo wasn’t directly your teacher anymore, he was still the man who had helped you become a sorcerer, the one who had rescued you from your destiny as nothing more than Noritoshi’s wife. He was like your older brother, so for him to say that he was proud of you made you feel uncharacteristically pleased.

“It’s been so long since I've seen you last,” you said. “I wish the higher ups wouldn’t always send you and Yuta away so far. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“That’s what happens when you’re the strongest,” he said with a long-suffering sigh, stooping over to gather up the papers he had dropped and pressing the pause button on his phone. “Have the two of you stayed in touch?”

“Yes, naturally,” you said, sitting down in the extra seat across from him. “We talk on the phone almost every day. But it’s not the same. I miss him. It’s nice to be seeing everyone else again, but it also feels wrong, because he should be here too.”

“You’ll get to see him again soon,” Gojo assured him. “He’s not in Africa forever.”

“Speaking of,” you said with a frown. “You know Africa isn’t a monolith, right? There’s, like, so many countries and regions in the continent. Do you even know which one he’s in?”

“Obviously I do. Miguel told me to be as vague as possible when referring to his location, though, to avoid leading curse users to his village,” he said. “That’s why I just say he’s in Africa.”

“Oh, that…actually makes sense,” you allowed. You supposed even Gojo had his intelligent and considerate moments every now and then.

“Thank you,” he said dryly, obviously not at all grateful for your lack of faith in him. Despite this, he slid a cup of tea across his desk, nodding at it before settling back in his own chair, pushing his papers neatly aside and resting his chin in his hands. You picked it up and blew on the surface, the steam billowing away from you until the tea was cool enough for you to take a sip.

“It’s good,” you said when it was obvious that he was waiting for your approval. He smiled slightly.

“That’s good,” he said. “How have you been, Y/N?”

“I've been well enough,” you said. He hummed in thought.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Still friends with Maki?”

“Maki? Of course I am,” you said. “I’ll always be friends with her.”

He swallowed. “I hope that’s the case.”

“Do you think we won’t be?” you said, put out by his response. To your further chagrin, he did not correct you immediately, mulling your question over for a moment.

“The future is unpredictable,” he said. “That said, I think it will take a lot for the two of you to break apart. I don’t see it happening anytime soon.”

“It won’t happen at all,” you said stubbornly. “Yuta and Maki and Tullia and Toge and Panda and I are going to be friends for the rest of our lives.”

“You’re right,” he said, and then he exhaled heavily. “Ignore me. Sometimes I say things without really meaning them. This is one of those times; I’m just reminiscing, that's all.”

“Alright,” you said. Then, tentatively, you set down your cup and reached out your hands so that you could place them atop his own, half-thinking that he’d keep his Infinity on and you’d be stopped in the process. But he did not. “You always turn your Infinity off for me, don’t you? Why is that?”

“I don’t see you as a threat,” he said. “Maybe it’s not that I turn it off for you but that I turn it on for everything else.”

“I see,” you said. A moment passed before you spoke again. “Do you miss —?”

“No,” he said instantly. “That’s a foolish thing to think, much less say aloud. Why would I?”

“He was your best friend,” you said. “Principal Yaga mentioned it during one of the missions he supervised me on. It’s not foolish to believe you’d miss him. If I lost Maki like that, I’d still miss her.”

“I’m fine,” Gojo said, and then he pulled his hands away from you and stood up. “Enough talking about me. There’s someone I’d like for you to meet.”

“Really?” you said, mirroring his actions and following him out the door. “Who?”

His expression morphed into a devilish grin. “The boy I’ve been telling you about since the day I met you, of course!”

“Oh no,” you said, dread creeping up your spine. “Don’t tell me you’re taking me to meet who I think you’re taking me to meet!”

“I think I am taking you to meet who you think I’m taking you to meet!” he said cheerfully. “That’s right, after all of this time, I’m finally introducing you to Megumi Fushiguro!”

#yuuta x reader #yuuta x y/n #yuuta x you #canon au #reader insert #pomegranate ink #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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