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#it always confuses me when people are like
inupibaldspot · 3 days
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Back off, kid.
Pairing: gojo satoru x reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : this is a part 2 but you don’t really ly need much context haha.
·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·
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“You know you guys don’t really look alike.” You say as you bring your hands up and rearrange the tuft of hair to your liking, you hum when the other wise spiky persistent hair bends obediently.
While in-front of you there was a younger dark haired boy, face completely pink but doesn’t dare let any part of his body move from your touch. “We aren’t related so we shouldn’t look alike.” Fushiguro tries to act as normal as ever.
“You know he has been introducing himself as your dad in your PTAs.” you pull away with a smile. “Satoru says they get so shocked and think he is a teen-dad.” You laugh as you trail back to the memory, Gojo’s snarky comment on ‘If I’m Megumi’s dad then you’re his mom; Which makes you my wife~’ remains unsaid.
When you pull away, Fushiguro finally feels his body release tension and finally he lets out a sigh. He hopes Tsumiki comes back finishing her club meeting soon.
“Why are you sighing like a old man, Megumi?” You get up from cushion floor as you then proceed to sit on the nearby sofa and cross you legs, giving him a teasing smile.
Fushiguro looks away from you with a huff. “Just a small headache.” and maybe even a chest pain. Both caused by you.
You hum as you then let out a ‘ah—!’ as you then proceeded to smile and pat on you nap. “Come here.” You smile proudly.
Poor Fushiguro Megumi’s face burst into steam from the heat radiating off his face. “Like hell I can!”
“Megumi…” you said in a soft tone which make the younger boy flatter. “I’m not teasing, I’ll just give you a massage.”
The boy huffs and sits infront of his feet as he felt your gentle soft hands guide his head to you lap. His frown dissipates as he then lets out a sigh of relief upon the movement of your hands near his temple.
You let out a giggle to how Fushiguro was acting like an old man, maybe this is what happens to people who deal with Gojo on a daily basis. “How’s school? from next year you’re going to be a middle school student,megumi.”
It’s been a while since you visited, already finished with highschool and now acting as an active jujutsu sorcerer has kept you busy but still then you would always visit once a week, make them a good meal while also bringing in some groceries. You didn’t have to but you’ve always done it, your soul was so unwavering it warmed Fushiguro to his very core.
“I’ve been using the notes you’ve prepared for me so school is pretty smooth for now…” Fushiguro finally replied as he still doesn’t move his head from your lap, his eyes closed and arms crossed infront of him, cheeks with a rosey color.
“Thank god.” You beam, Fushiguro watches from the crack of his eyes. “It was actually my notes from back in the days. I always kept them with me.”
Fushiguro closes his eyes, the more he watches you the more he feels his heart constrict as if it ran a marathon. “y/n, I want to say… thank you—ugh!” The poor boy’s was pushed off your lap with a sudden but controlled push. “What the hell?”
“I’m so tiredddddd, y/n.” The voice almost purrs as there is a tuft of white hair on the plush of your thighs. You blink at Gojo who seemed to be looking at you from behind his bandages with a wide smiles plastered on his face. “Gimme a massage too~”
Fushiguro knows this scene too well.
Perhaps he wasn’t as subtle as he thought but any time he was too close to you, Gojo who is in his early 20s and almost a decade older than him always manages to throw him away. And now he watches you frowning and reprimanded Gojo for acting like that.
He sighs. “I’m leaving.”
You and Gojo quickly turn to his direction. You had a confused look to your face then it contours to something of worry. Was he mad at Gojo? Fushiguro could almost hear your thoughts.
Where as Gojo who currently has his head on his lap and one of his hand playing with your finger, give him a confused look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘I won!’ smirk.
“Got homework.” Fushiguro turns and leaves.
“Satoru, you’re always acting like that to Megumi.” You say as you tear your hands away from his and then give his head a light ‘chop’.
“Then he shouldn’t touch what’s mine.” He huffs , as he closed his eyes and forms a sassy pout.
“What’s mine?” You question. “Did Megumi take something of yours?“
“No…Right now, it’s still with me.” Gojo opens his eyes, which makes your breath hitch. his eyes ever so beautiful as the evening glow assist its glimmer. “You know what I mean right?”
Your breath hitches and suddenly the room is much hotter,your heart races as it blooms in warmth.
Gojo’s face softens as he looks at your flustered face. “What I mean is… I’m in lo—UGH!”
“Sorry”
Suddenly a new enters the room, the same dark haired boy who left moments earlier. “My pencil slipped from my hand.”
“Megumi, you brat!” Gojo stands up, with currently a pencil stabbed on his forehead. Megumi threw it because he knew Gojo wouldn’t even think of letting his infinity be active when he was near you after all.
Gojo watches as Fushiguro gives him his usual deadpanned look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘Hah! As if I’ll let you confess on my watch’ smile.
Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆。— @lysaray @thirtykiwis @sillysillygoofygoose @hotvinimon @olivianyx @anan-baban @shirabaee @genticcs
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seonghwaddict · 14 hours
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super duper pretty — kim hongjoong
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in which you haven’t heard from him in years but a single drunk phone call ends up with you tangled up in your bed.
musician!kim hongjoong x fem!reader. genre. angst, suggestive, friends to lovers. warnings. drinking, tension, kissing, suggestive content. wc. 4k. rating. pg-13.
lilo’s notes. AGHDHSJDJJAJDJSJDHSJS GRRRR WOOF WOOF AWOOOO GR AHHHDHDHDHHDS
listening to. right here, chase atlantic.
masterlist.
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you weren’t someone hongjoong could bring himself to think about much these days. despite having known each other since childhood and been best friends, he hadn’t spoken to you in three years, too caught up in his thriving music career.
album, tours, interviews, collaborations. it all kept him busy and away from you. his chase for stardom had him isolating and distancing himself from friends and family. and, sure, it was shitty, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the people he was told would hold him back. he didn’t have time to regret it. regretting leads to stagnating and stagnating would lead to the end of his career.
that’s not to say he didn’t miss you. of course, he did. but on the last day he spoke to you, it ended in an argument he didn’t have the energy to resolve. so, he left. he left you.
him not having time to regret it was more an ideal rather than a truth.
in reality, he regretted leaving you more than anything else.
but three years later he still hadn’t talked to you, afraid it would ruin his pride if he came running back to you. yet he couldn’t deny how he felt like he was on top of the world, the best producer and rapper in the scene. his career was thriving and his newest album topped charts across alll platforms. when all the interviews and promotions were finally over, he decided to treat himself ot a little celebration, renting a club in town and inviting every major celebrity he had connections too.
the night was spent dancing and throwing back shot after shot until he could barely stand. he enjoyed it at first, but slowly the effects of the colourful drinks made him feel much too hot and cramped in the sea of dancing bodies. making sure no one noticed, he escaped through a back door into the cold, fresh air. he felt the sudden urge to leave, but in his drunken state it would be difficult to navigate his way home.
without thinking, he slumped against the red brick wall and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he’s always know by heart. it rang three times before the person picked up.
“hello?”
hongjoong didn’t realise how much he missed your voice until you uttered that word so softly. he could picture you somewhere in your appartment, maybe in the kitchen to get a snack, tilting your head in confusion at the unfamiliar number.
“hey,” he really didn’t know what else to say, staring intently at a leaf on the ground.
you went completely silent on the other end and for a moment he thought you’d hung up. but, eventually, you spoke again, only this time a certain firmness to your voice.
“what do you want?”
“come pick me up,” his words slurred and molded together and you had a hard time unnderstanding him, sat stifly on your couch, “please, i need you to pick me up. just… just this once?”
you didn’t know what to say. you wanted to scream and yell at him and demand a proper explanation as to why he just walked out of your life like it was nothing, but at the same time, you wanted to sob and confess how much you missed him.
still, you couldn’t help but ask, “what the hell happened, hongjoong?”
"i- i'm drunk," he slurred, sounding even worse than before as he shuffles his feet on the floor pebbled floor. "like, really, really drunk," he insisted with a quiet groan, but you already came to that conclusion. "come pick me up… please?"
you stood up from your couch, pacing around you living room as you listened to him speak before stopping by your window and looking out into the night sky. he was the last person you thought would call you at this house, not having heard from him in three years. but here he was, drunk and begging you to pick him up from god knows where.
“fine.” you said simply, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you grabbed your coat from the entrance of your apartment and slipped on some shoes, not bothering to change out of your nightwear. “where are you?”
“um,” he looked around. the back door led into an alley, but if he walked off to the right he’d be right by the entrance. with his free hand supporting him on the wall, he did his best to get there. “outside the, uh, club,” he explained, though it was really helpful, “by the-” he cut himself off with a sigh, resting his forehead against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut in frustation of his lack of clarity, “the red one.”
your eyebrows furrowed at his vague description as you got to your car, getting into the drivers seat and just sitting there until he could give you a proper answer. “the… red… one?”
“it’s got, um,” he looked around the surrounding area, spotting a familiar place just across the street, “in front of that café we used to go to?”
“oh.” you recognised that, hesitating for a moment before starting the car, unwanted memories of the countless hours you spent with him there clouding your thoughts. all the talking and studying and laughing. “find somewhere to sit.”
“okay,” he nodded to himself, taking some steps to a wooden bench and pointing at it as if you could see, “i’m gonna sit on this thingy.” his drunken stupor had him laughing at himself as he takes the final steps to sit down. he swayed a little but not enough to make him lose balance and fall. once sat, he nodded and grinned at nothing in particular, just proud he was able to manage the simple task you gave him. “i’m sitting.”
“good, great,” you hummed approvingly, holding back a smile at his antics, “now… just hang tight, i’ll be right there, okay?”
“okay.”
it felt good to sit here, he realised with a sigh as he leaned back and tipped his head to look up at the stars. the gentle caress of the night air and the dimmed sounds of the city around him a soothing backdrop to the chaos in his head.
a silence followed his words, tense but not uncomfortable. the red exterior of the cheap club came into view soon enough and you slowed to a stop to park in a free space. you got out of the car and looked around until you found a familiar figure sitting on a bench tucked below a little tree. you hesitated again for a moment before walking to him as slowly as possible, your heart pounding in your chest. he hadn’t noticed you yet, having shut his eyes at some point.
it took you some long moments but you finally pulled yourself together and cleared your throat, making him startle as you muttered a tentative, “hey.”
he glanced toward the sound of your voice, blinking away the drunken haze as he attempted to focus on the world around him. his vision unclear and unfocused as looked up at you, struggling to recognise you for a moment. the bright streetlights made his head ache a little; the world a blur and all he could do was struggle to focus until he could see you properly, the familiar feature snapping him back to reality.
you shifted back and forth on your heels awkwardly, waiting for him to say something as he just stared at you, face flushed and intoxicated. your hair was messy and you wore shorts and a loose light grey sweater. you wondered if he even recognised you, or were you just a stranger to him?
“you came,” he breathed after a while, eyes taking in every detail on you. he focused on you; the way the moonlight caught on your skin, the soft furrow of your brows and subtle downturn of your lips. your eyes, his favourite eyes in the world, looking back at him. “you actually came.”
“you called,” you answered, almost breathless as you also took him in. his style looked a little edgier than when you’d last seen him, though still as chic as ever. short bleached hair, the corners of his sharp eyes smoked out.
“i did,” he nodded, attempting to stand up before slumping back again, “but you actually came.” the alcohol made his words feel heavy, pushing them out in soft sighs as his eyes locked with yours again. he grinned stupidly, “you’re like, pretty.”
you almost laughed at his words, shaking your head lightly, “and you’re like, drunk,” you scoffed jokingly, “come on, it’s late, let me get you home.”
“no, i mean,” he whined, pouting dramatically and now you weren’t sure if the pink tint of his face was from the alcohol or something else, “you’re like super duper pretty.”
unsure of how to respond to his compliment, you only chuckled nervously and offered him a hand to help him get up. “come on.”
he stared at your hand for a few long moments before grasping it and standing up with your assistance. he stumbled a little but caught himself as you led him to the car. your nudged him to get into the passenger seat as you walked around to get into the driver’s.
it was dark in your car, your face dimly illuminated by the screen that displayed a map of the area. you look even prettier in this light, he thought, the sharp shadows making your features stand out that much more. your cheeks soft and round and your eyes sparkling with reflections in a way that made his wander all over you.
neither of you said anything for a while as you sat there. seemingly lost in his drunken daze, he realised how familiar this felt, being there with you, just you and him. everything felt right. he let out a soft hum before leaning back, tilting his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.
“my place is closer than yours,” now that he wasn’t looking at you, you felt comfortable enough to break the silence. finally buckling your seatbelt, you tried to ignore the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the thought of his eyes on your body, “you can stay for the night, if you want.”
“do i get the couch?” he turned his head to peer over at you as you start the car, “or…” he giggled, “or… we can share the bed.”
you raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at how flirtatious he was being. “we’ve shared before so, i guess… if the bed is more comfortable for your then i’m fine with sharing it.”
memories of your late night excursions with him rushed back to you and you briefly wondered if he would touch you the same as you laid together. would the feeling of his hand in yours bring you the same comfort? or the protective grip on your back or thigh? you don’t mention any of it.
“let’s just share,” he whispered back. he sounded tired, though if asked he could probably go on a ten page rant of how much he missed being close to you.
he, too, thought of all the night you spent together. the laughs and the touches that felt so real. he remembered how comfortably you would fit in the same bed, laying side-by-side and watching random movies until dawn broke. how easily you’d fall asleep as you shared blankets, face mere inches away from each other but never quite touching.
he wondered if it was possible to relive those times, gazing over at you for a moment before shaking his head and look out the window. those were nothing but drunk fantasies.
“okay,” you whispered back, trying not to look at him, trying not to shiver at the softness of his voice. a little slurred, but still soft.
he was always like that with you. soft.
people would mistake the two of you for lovers more often than not when they first met you, but it was always denied with flushed cheeks and awkward giggles. and it was true. no matter what was said or done, you always remained just that. best friends. it was for the better, made things much less complicated. especially when he took off and you never saw him again.
at least, until now.
the silence in the car was palpable, broken only by quiet breaths and the low hum of the car. it was a calm silence, mildly comfortable despite how heavy it felt, weighted down by all the things unsaid.
eventually, you slowed to a stop and pulled into your parking space in front of the apartment building you lived in. turning off the car, you got out and beelined for the entrance. he knew where to go anyway, not looking back at him as you led the way to your apartment.
the door opened to your living room and kitchen area, just a little messy since you weren’t expecting anyone to come over anytime soon. you made quick work of shucking off your jacket and placing your shoes aside, telling him to wait for a moment before you disappeared through a hallway he knew led to your bedroom.
you returned quickly, a pile of folded clothes in your arms that you held out to him, explaining he had left them a while ago. his body itself didn’t change much, so you figured they should still fit. you didn’t want his sweaty dishevelled suit on your bedsheets.
as he changed, you paced back and forth in your bedroom nervously, thinking about all the possible things that could happen. but you stopped quickly when you heard the bathroom door unlock, practically jumping to lay in bed. you tucked yourself into one side of the large bed, covers pulled up to your chin as you face away from him.
you heard him pause for a moment before you felt the bed dipping behind you and the covers shifting as he blanketed himself too. despite there being a considerable amount of space between you, you still felt him body heat brushing against yours in the thick silence. even though you can’t see him, you knew for a fact he’s probably laying on his back to look at the little glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck to my ceiling years ago and never took down.
you sighed and whispered, “hongjoong?”
“uh-huh?” he hummed, eyes closed for a moment before he turning his head to glance at your back.
you squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before finally asked the thing you’d been dying to know. “did you ever miss me?”
“more than anything,” he breathed and you felt him shift to lay on his side, facing you. he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you like he used to. his voice held a hint of melancholy but he didn’t elaborate more.
you turned too after a moment, not taking a second to notice just how close he was, the thick white covers shifting slightly from the movement. your voice quivered slightly as you spoke, eyes stinging with welling tears. “i missed you too, you know… i missed you every day since you left and every day i hoped you’d come back. but you never did.”
his heart clenched at you admission, the voice he loved so much threatening to turn into sobs. the truth was, he wanted to, countless nights sat alone, wishing he turned back to knock on your door.
“i-i wanted to,” he stammered, whispering ashamedly.
“it’s fine, i got over it,” you forced yourself to focus on the pillow under his head instead of his handsome face.
his brows furrowed as you averted your gaze, eyes following yours even if you refused to look at him. he knew you well enough to know when you lied. he knew you well enough to know you didn’t get over it. didn’t get over him. he mumbled, “did you really?”
your lip trembled at his question but you kept your gaze locked on the white fabric, pressing them together to get them to stop as a few tears spill over the corners of your eyes.
you shook your head, your little voice breaking with overwhelming emotions, “n-no, i didn’t.”
you shifted your look to his hesitantly, your skin tingling from his warmth. your eyelids fluttered as you tried to hold back the tears.
"don’t," he whispered, thumb slipping down to caress your jaw. his eyes searched yours, your eyes wide with sadness and something he couldn’t quite understand. "don’t hide it. you don’t always have to be so strong. not in front of me.”
those words snapped something in your mind, no longer able to swallow down the lump in your throat as you threw yourself into his inviting arms, yours wrapping around his neck as you sobbed into the slope of his shoulder.
“why- why did you leave, w-why didn’t you come back... p-please, i need to know.”
he didn’t expect the sudden break down, but still held you close. one hand at the back of your head, the other holding you by your waist, your bodies pressed against each other and he let his lips press against the top of your head, making you shiver.
he rubbed your back, letting your tears fall wherever they man, muttering reassurances iagainst your hair. his faint scent of whiskey and mint mingled with your vanilla shampoo, his eyes shutting at the oddly comforting mix of smells. you felt him press repeated kisses to your messed up hair.
sobs racked your body for a few more minutes before the tears stopped falling and your breaths evened. you nodded against him, pulling your head away from him to look up at his face, at his eyes. the hand at the back of your head slipped forward to cup your cheek again, brushing his finger along your skin. he traces your cheek bone and along your harline down to your jaw, his eyes shifting between yours in disbelief that his skin was on yours once again.
“i was afraid,” he admitted, barely a whisper, “i was afraid that if i came back, i’d fall for you more… and then i wouldn’t have been able to spend a day without you, wouldn’t be able to chase after my dream. but… at the time, i didn’t recognise you were part of it, you know, my dream.”
your breath hitched as the words registered, “you- what?”
you cut him off with something you'd been wanting to do for a while; you kissed him, hands holding either side of his face. his eyes are widened in surprise, though he didn’t hesitate to lean into the kiss, returning it as quickly as you did it. his hands tightened around you, pulling you as close as he could.
your lips fit against eachother so perfectly, like the lego sets you’d force him to build with you when you were younger, every curve and edge of your bodies slotting together naturally. he got lost in the sensation of finally getting what he dreamed of, a hand slipping below the hem of your shirt to hold onto your bare waist, just wanting to feel closer to you.
his mouth tasted of exactly what he smelled like, mint and traces of whiskey, whimpering against his lips as you welcomed the taste and the touch. your whimper unlocked something, the kiss growing more urgent, restlessly pushed against each other without air left between. you could barely breathe, but you didn’t care as long as his lips stayed locked on yours for as long as possible.
but eventually, he bit down on your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away, catching his breath as you caught yours. your chest heaving as you refilled your lungs with air, face flushed from the realisation of what you just did and from the thought of what else you might do.
he glanced down at your swelling parted lips, jimmy coated by your mixed saliva, his pupils blown wide with desire.
“i wanna…” he mumbled, breath unsteady, “i want to…”
he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, at least not until he noticed the way you peered up at him expectantly with that curious gaze. “what is it, joong?”
that nickname. he hadn’t heard it in a while. three years, actually, because you were the only one that called him that. his eyes searched yours.
“i want to do that again,” he admitted, cheeks warming, “and again and again and again… and so much more than just that.”
your breath hitched, intestines tied into knots as you struggled to figure out what you should say. the truth was that you wanted that too, wanted to feel his lips and hands all over your body. but, as his breath fanned over your face and you caught the traces of alcohol folded into the smell of mint gum, you were reminded that there was a thin possibility he didn’t mean any of it.
“you’re drunk, joong… it’s better if we don’t.”
he frowned, his grip on you loosening. “but you want to, don’t you?” he countered, “you know you want this too, so why not?”
“i just-“ you paused to sigh, continuing with an even tone, “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“i meant every goddamn thing i said,” his brows furrowed for a moment and he squinted, trying to emphasise his point, “so, i can’t regret this. i can’t regret you.“
you bit your lip, thinking carefully before sighing, the tension leaving your body as you played with the string of his hoodie.
“how about this…” you suggested, speaking slowly, “if you can wake up and tell me you remembered all this, then we can see where this goes.”
“and if i don’t, you’ll never mention in again?”
you nodded, slightly anxious as you wait for him to agree. it didn’t take too long, seemingly an acceptable compromise for him as he nodded.
“okay,” he agreed, his hand on your waist beneath your shirt tightening once again, “let me just kiss you one more time though, i won’t be able to sleep if you don’t.”
you laughed at his silly excuse, forehead dropping against his shoulder for a moment before lifting to look at him again with a grin that made you feel so stupid and in love. “fine, just one more time.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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ffsg0jo · 2 days
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tw: grief, death, illness, and angst - i wrote this in like half an hour and i was really in my feels, so pls excuse me if it's bad
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uncle sukuna, who's been in and out of jail, is always seemingly in trouble with the law and couldn't give two shits about it. ever since leaving home and his twin brother behind, he's only lived for himself and himself only. he'd be damned if he lets anyone change that.
he receives a voicemail from his brother one day, telling him he's had a little baby boy called yuuji. jin wants to put everything in the past behind them and would love for his brother to meet his precious son. sukuna only scoffs and deletes the voicemail almost immediately.
it's only when jin texts him a video of yuuji (who he's surprised to see almost looks exactly like him, minus all the tattoos) 8 months later babbling what could be interpreted as "papa", does he falter. the kid's adorable, but sukuna isn't ready to face his brother just yet.
many more months go by, and jin seems to have taken the hint. except he gets sent another video, this time on his birthday. he clicks on the video, unable to resist and its yuuji, wobbling on two legs, clapping his hands, and singing his own version of happy birthday (??). he's gotten so much bigger and looks so much like his father.
the only word sukuna recognises from yuujis incoherent nonsense is 'kuna', and his heart softens. he messages back a "cute." and leaves it at that. jin sees the message and doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.
jin messages him again a week later, only this time sukuna's heart drops. kaori's dead, and her funeral's next week. he's only met her twice, but she was good for his brother, and she was always good to him too.
he sees his brother for the first time in years at the funeral. jin's hair is a mess, his face unshaven and sunken in; grief seemed to have aged him 10 more years. sukuna's many things, a bad brother included, but something in him breaks when he sees yuuji screaming in his father's arms, not understanding where his mum's gone.
he doesn't know why, but he walks up to jin and offers to take yuuji instead. the toddler immediately calms down in his hold, now more confused as to why there's a man that looks exactly like his dad but with sharpie all over him. jin breaks down, stammering out a thank you, and excuses himself, leaving sukuna alone with his nephew. he'll hunt down his brother later, but for now, he'll keep the brat occupied so his dad can grieve.
sukuna hears from his dad that jin's fallen ill months later. he's speaks to his brother more often now and has even met up with both him and yuuji a couple of times. but jin's never mentioned being sick. he's been looking worse, for sure, but he just put it down to being a single father to an energetic toddler.
he moves in with them the next week. jin keeps getting worse and even little yuuji's noticed.
sukuna tries his best. he really does. he's not been there for jin previously, but he makes sure he's there now when it matters. it's all new to him, caring for people. he tries to cook the most nutritious meals for jin, making sure they're yuuji friendly too. he makes sure the house is always clean, even though yuuji's making a mess every 10 minutes. he changes diapers (both yuuji's and jin's), bathes them both, and tucks them both into bed. he even reads yuuji a bedtime story just to maintain normacly even though he hasnt read since he was a child.
he checks up on jin, constantly seeing if he's feeling okay and gives him his medicine. he holds onto jin with the utmost care (almost carrying him) when they go to visit kaori's grave or when yuuji insists on both of them coming to the park with him. when jin can't sleep at night due to being in excruciating pain, he's there. by his side and holding him. he's never been this affectionate, but he's also never had a dying brother before.
it's still not enough, though. the last couple of days were the hardest, and even yuuji knew enough to be on his best behaviour.
sukuna silently sobs into his pillow at night, when the whole world's asleep. he's filled with regret and hatred for himself, but he knows it's too late now. he tells his brother he loves him and that he promises to take care of yuuji no matter what. jin only smiles, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and tries to kiss his cheek as a thank you, and i love you too.
jin died with one arm holding yuuji, the other holding sukuna's, and his wife's name on his tongue.
sukuna was left all alone, once again. except this time, he had no brother to give yuuji back to. as he promised jin, the stars as his witness, he'd do anything for yuuji and to keep him safe.
his life was no longer his own. he had his nephew to think about.
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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ozzgin · 2 days
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Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader
I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!
Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere
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He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.
Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.
He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?
You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.
"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?
Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.
Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.
"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."
The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.
"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."
You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.
"You're never getting away from me, love."
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thiswaytwoinfinity · 3 days
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it’s a bad idea, right? - part 1: can’t two people reconnect
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Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader • inspired by sleeping with other people
Warnings: no use of y/n or physical description of reader except they have hair that can be tucked behind their ears, implied smut, this chapter is fine but future installments will be 18+
It’s finally here! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient about this fic; I was dealing with some rough personal stuff and lost all my inspiration but it’s back now and I’m happy to be writing about everyone’s favorite cocky flyboy.
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There’s something about a sticky summer night when you’re 22 that makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.
It’s the third bar that your new roommates have dragged you to tonight, there’s a cocktail sweating in your hand and the bass from the stereo thudding through your head. You’re not sure if the grin on your face is from the watching all of the wannabe cowboys go flying off the mechanical bull in mere milliseconds or from the possibilities of newfound adulthood laid out in front of you. In this moment, it’s hard to imagine that you were ever scared about moving halfway across the country — away from your family, your hometown and your high school sweetheart who always thought you’d move home after college — to Austin.
In this moment, you feel free. You feel invincible. You feel like this is a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
 
“Okay, the bar is a madhouse but I managed to get another round!” Anna shouts as she makes her way back to the table, tossing her long dark hair behind her before plopping the tray of shots down in front of you and your new friends. “And there’s a new rule!”
Everyone groans in unison; Anna loves to make up drinking games, handing out shots and beers with a new rule or bet that is guaranteed to leave someone embarrassed before the night’s over.
“Oh, stop. Shit like this is how we become lifelong best friends, trust me, I read about it online,” she fires back, rolling her eyes and handing shots to you and the three other girls at the table before taking one in hand. “It’s simple. Last one to finish their shot has to ride the mechanical bull.”
“Bitch, are you trying to kill us?” Erin asks, shooting a sideways glance at Katie, who’s eyeing up her shot glass like she’s trying to strategize the best way to drink it. The two of them are sisters — “Irish twins, it’s a whole thing,” Erin explained when you first moved in — are hyper-competitive and curse like sailors. You loved them instantly.
Your tiny hope of not being the one to end up on the bull dies when you look over at Taylor, who managed to throw back her tequila when nobody was watching. “What?!” she asks, curls bobbing in the bun on top of her head as she takes in everyone’s looks of confusion and frustration. “Anna never said we had to start at the same time.”
It’s like a starting pistol went off at the end of her sentence because before you know it, Erin and Katie are both biting into limes while Anna is swallowing down the liquor with a grimace. Shit.
You do your best to catch up but it’s too late. You, the girl who grew up nowhere near Texas and have never actually seen a bull in real life, are going to have to ride one in front of this entire bar.
Years later you won’t remember the details of the bet, how your friends whooped and hollered as you made your way over to the bull with shaky knees or how the operator took pity on you when you immediately slid off and offered you a second try. The song that was playing is lost to time, as is the actual feeling of riding the bull for a whole half second.
What you will remember, though, is sliding across the tarp to rest right by a group of athletic looking guys and the strong, tan hand that reached down to help you stand up.
You’ll remember the backwards Longhorns cap on his head, the way his green eyes flashed with amusement and the blinding white of his smile as he helped you to your feet, hand lingering just a moment too long in yours. You’ll remember the way it felt like someone had set off fireworks inside of you, fingers tingling where they touched his skin and your stomach swooping like you were on a roller coaster.
You’ll remember exactly what he said to you: “Well, that was definitely the most entertaining attempt of the night.”
You giggled, a little dazed by his chiseled features, by the way he seemed to only see you in that moment, by the force of his charisma.
 “I’m Jake. What’s your name, beautiful?”
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For a Thursday night, the Hard Deck was surprisingly packed.
The Daggers had managed to claim their usual spot by the pool table, but despite their cramped quarters they practically had to shout over the sounds of drunken sailors and the oldies blasting out of the jukebox to be heard. The table next to Bob was crowded with beer bottles, the bespectacled WSO having waved off Penny when she stopped by to clear them, promising the group would clean up after themselves. Natasha and Bradley were in the middle of some kind of dumb darts competition, being heckled by Bob and a tipsy Rueben, who had his arm slung around the former’s shoulders for balance.
Jake took in the scenery, smug grin on his face, before sinking his final pool ball with a flourish.
“And that’s game, gentlemen,” he said, turning to Javy and Mickey, who were shaking their heads with frustration.
“Can’t believe I let you talk me into betting against him,” Mickey sighed, shuffling through his wallet for a $20 bill. Javy just shrugged and threw a playful punch against his friend’s shoulder, before asking for a rematch.
“Let that be a lesson, Fanboy,” Jake chuckled, making a big show of examining the bill before pocketing it. “Never bet against Jake Seresin. They call me a golden boy for a reason.”
“Who’s ‘they?’ Everyone we know just calls you a dick,” Nat called out, making her way back to the table for her drink. Taking a look at the chaos on the table, she rolled her eyes before starting to gather up a handful of empty bottles. “C’mon, Fanboy. Help me clear some of these and I’ll buy you a beer to drown your sorrows in.”
He ran over to help, allowing Javy to slide over to Jake and elbow his buddy in the side.
“10 o’clock, there’s a whole table of pretty ladies. The blonde’s had her eye on you all night and her friend with the locs is crazy hot,” he murmured, as Jake took a subtle look over at the table in question. 5 or 6 women were crammed into a booth, and judging by the tiara on one of their heads, they were out celebrating a birthday. “Wingman?” the younger aviator asked, holding out his fist for Jake to bump it.
For a half second, he contemplated turning his best friend down.
It wasn’t like Jake wasn’t attracted to the blonde, who was, indeed making eyes at him from across the room. She was exactly his type, all bright smiles and smokey bedroom eyes, her curves and long legs poured into tight jeans. She had an air of confidence that made it clear she knew just how hot she was.
He knew that if he strolled over and gave her his best All-American smile and some of that Southern charm, he could probably win her over. They’d flirt and dance a bit and then he’d drive them back to one of their places, have some decent-to-excellent sex and he’d be asleep shortly after midnight.
It seemed fun. It seemed obvious. It seemed, quite honestly, a little boring to him.
Maybe it was because he turned 35 a few months ago and the idea of going home to his own bed after a night out was starting to seem more and more appealing to him. Maybe it was because he spent so much time trying to convince his fellow Daggers that he wasn’t a complete asshole that he didn’t want to risk them changing their minds again.
Or maybe he was just a little jealous.
Jake would see the way Rueben’s face lit up when he talked about his wife, how he would brag about every milestone his 3-year-old daughter was reaching. He felt awkward about his lack of wedding knowledge when a pink-eared Bob would ask the squad for their opinion on something for his upcoming nuptials. He’d try to ignore the weird sinking feeling in his stomach when he’d overhead Nat and Mickey picking out a restaurant for their weekly brunch double date with their respective girlfriends.
And despite the fact that he had spent most of his adult life doing whatever he could to avoid those kinds of situations, now he was starting to wonder if maybe … maybe he’d be a little happier if he had been able to settle down with someone of his own.
Oof. That thought made Jake’s chest tighten uncomfortably. So he pushed it down, smiled as wide as he could and first bumped Javy. “Wingmen for life, Coyote. Lead the way.”
 
If you had to spend one more minute squeezed up against this bar, wedged between a couple aggressively making out and a trio of rowdy Navy men who were trying to sing along to Queen, you were going to scream.
“Just come for a drink or two. This place is super chill for a Navy bar, I promise,” you muttered darkly under your breath, repeating the words your friend and new coworker had used to convince you to come out tonight.
Between a frantic weekend spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new studio apartment and a very long first week at your new job, all you had wanted to do was bury yourself under a blanket and watch Real Housewives until your brain melted out of your ears.
But you were trying to be more social. You wanted to focus more on your friendships. Do things that were good for you. That was the whole point of this move.
So instead, you were leaning so far over the bar top that you could feel the edge digging into your ribs, shouting a drink order at the (admittedly, very sweet and slightly overwhelmed) bartender. She had just placed the two beers and margarita you had asked for down in front of you when another hand appeared and tried to snatch them up.
“Hey!” you yelled, tossing the bills in your hand onto the bar as you reached up to catch the offender by the wrist before they made off with your hard-won drinks. “Asshole! Drop them, those are my beers! What the fuck?”
You swiped up the cocktail with your free hand, lest it meet the same fate and turned around to see what kind of absolute monster thought they had the right to steal drinks.
Annoyingly, he was beautiful.
Tall and broad, with sun-kissed skin and a blindingly-white smile, which held a hint of sheepishness as he realized that he had been caught red handed. There was something familiar about the way he ducked his head a little, before peering at you from beneath his eyelashes.
“Sorry about that, ma’am. I thought those were mine. Didn’t mean to steal from you,” his low, twangy drawl went right through you, settling warm and comfortingly in your stomach. “I’d offer to buy you a drink to make it up to you, but, well …”
Texas. That’s where that accent is from, you thought, instantly being transported back to your nursing school program in Austin. How many wannabe cowboys had spoken with that same drawl, trying to charm you and your friends during a night out? Not too many of them had succeeded with you, especially not after —
“Jake? Jake Seresin!?”
It had to be him. You’d know that smile anywhere, had seen those green eyes in your dreams for far too long after you both had moved on. He was bigger now, muscles more pronounced and jaw more defined, more of those cheeky smile lines creasing around his eyes. His voice was deeper too, some of his accent smoothed out after years in the military, but it had to be.
He swore under his breath, eyes widening as he made the connection as well. He practically whispered your name, as if it felt a bit rusty on his tongue, but the second you nodded, he repeated it louder, warmer, like he was slipping back into his favorite jacket.
“Shit, how long’s it been?” Jake wondered aloud, looking you up and down as if to make a note of every infinitesimal change that had occurred since you last saw each other. “You look amazing, darling. Beautiful as ever.”
You rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Jake always had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room — but then again, he made everyone feel that way, as you later found out. “You look good too, Seresin. Like a proper, respectable Navy man,” you concede, though the words don’t sound nearly as begrudging as you hoped.
You’re rewarded with one of those thousand-watt grins and for a second, you’re back in a Texas dive bar, flirting with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen to the tune of some cheesy country-rap remix.
“I am good,” Jake promises, eyes locked on yours, and you think he might be back there with you, leaning up against the jukebox, the floors sticky under your feet. “I don’t know how respectable I am, but I am definitely good.”
His voice drags out that sentence, low and flirtatious, and butterflies fill your stomach the same way they did all those years ago. You can practically feel the ghost of his big hands on your hips, your lower back, caressing your cheek as the world disappeared around you that night, just the two of you creating your own little world in the corner of that dingy bar. Your lips part — to say what, exactly, you’re not sure — and you see his eyes drop to them for just a moment before —
The woman behind the bar calls out “Hangman!” with a tone of voice that makes it clear that it’s not the first time she’s said it and you both startle and turn to see her holding four bottles of beer out towards Jake, a look of exhaustion on her face. He jumps forward to take them, apologies pouring from his lips and he pointedly shoves several bills into the tip jar in order to earn an eye roll and a small smile from her. Two sweating bottles in each hand, he turns back to you and almost seems a bit relieved that you’re still standing there. (As if you’ve ever been able to walk away from him.)
“I have to drop these off with my friends,” Jake says, nodding to a table somewhere behind you, “And you should probably get those drinks to the people who sent you over here. But do — do you wanna catch up? There’s a deck out back with some tables, it’s usually pretty quiet this time of night.” He waits for you to nod, before pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”
With one more charming smile, he’s off into the crowd and — not for the first time in your life — you’re left speechless and a little stunned, staring after Jake Seresin.
 
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You’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arms are from the chill of the California evening or the way that Jake hasn’t stopped staring at you since he joined you outside on the deck. You shift slightly against the wooden bench of the picnic table, overwhelmed by the intensity of having all of the blonde’s attention on you again for the first time in a decade.
“So …” you begin, and your voice seems to startle Jake out of his thoughts slightly. “You’re a California boy now? I never thought you’d ever leave Texas.”
He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Well, when Top Gun calls and offers you a permanent station, you’d be a fool not to accept. And not to brag, but they do only offer that to the best of the best.”
“Please, Seresin. You love to brag,” you fire back, watching those green eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Well, it’s not bragging if it’s the truth. And the truth is, darling, that I am one hell of a pilot.” Jake takes a swig from his beer, before leaning a bit closer into you, like he wants to study your reactions. “What about you? What brings you out to sunny San Diego?”
“New job,” you say shortly, shrugging your shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. “Moved from the ICU to the ED, so I figured a change of location would go well with a change of pace.”
Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and you hope he can’t tell. There’s no reason to tell your ex — boyfriend? Fling? — whatever that you followed a guy out here, especially since that whole — relationship? Affair? Complete and utter heartbreaking disaster? — situation crashed and burned almost immediately.
“Mmhmm,” Jake says, as if he can tell that’s not the whole story, and he takes another sip before seemingly deciding to let you off the hook. “And what did you boyfriend have to say about moving halfway across the country? Or did someone manage to finally lock you down after all these years?”
There’s a small, sinking feeling in your stomach as you think about the real reason you moved here for a brief, heartbreaking second.
“No boyfriend. No husband, either,” you say, wiggling your left hand at him in order to illustrate your point, and clock the way his eyes almost look relieved by the sight of your empty finger. “What about you, Seresin? Where’s your sweet, Southern wife?”
He laughs, a little cocky but a little hollow at the same time. “You know I don’t really do commitment, darlin’,” he jokes and, boy, do you, nights of watching him flirt with other girls while you pouted in the corner of the bar flashing in your brain. You take a long swallow of your beer — just like you used to swallow down your pride back then — and roll your eyes at him.
“I swear, you look exactly the same when you roll your eyes like that,” Jake says, his smile softening around the edges. “Nobody ever managed to make it quite as cutting as you.”
“Nobody’s ever been quite as annoying as you,” you fire back, but there’s no real heat behind it. Jake’s eye light up like you just gave him a compliment rather than pointing out that he knew exactly how to press your buttons when you were younger.
“I seem to remember you used to like it when I was able to make your eyes roll. Or, at least, when I could make them roll back into your head …”
You sigh, doing your best not to let on how much that comment made your face heat with decade-old memories of you two tangled up in your sheets. “There it is …” you begin, but he just leans into you a little more, those green eyes traveling all over your face as he speaks.
“I’m just reminiscing, that’s all. Can ya blame me? You’re still so beautiful …” Jake responds, one hand reaching out to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek as he pulls away and you hope you can explain away the goosebumps that erupt on your skin as a product of the ocean breeze. “And I spent a lot of time trying to get you all worked up back then. Force of habit.”
You could give into it.
Allow the sheer force of Jake’s charisma and good looks to carry you away on a wave of old memories. The chemistry that always fizzled between you is clearly still there, the butterflies that have laid dormant in your stomach all this time just waiting for an excuse to be let free once again. It would be easy.
And it would be good — you two had always been good at the physical stuff. He was so gorgeous in so many ways and surprisingly generous when you were in bed. (Jake always took pride in being the best of the best, after all).
But once you woke up tomorrow morning, after all of the awkward goodbyes and the promises to call, then what? Jake Seresin doesn’t commit; he made that clear.
And you were still bruised from your last mess of a relationship, your heart feeling tender and aching in your chest most days. There’s no way that this doesn’t end the same way it did a decade ago, with you sobbing uncontrollably and Jake moving on to the next beautiful girl who manages to hold his attention.
So, with a self-control you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull yourself out of Jake’s undertow.
“Seresin, I … that’s probably a bad idea,” you say softly, eyes dropping down to the tabletop in between you. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not in a place —”
He cuts you off by tilting your chin up to look at him and then making a point to pull his hands back and keep them to himself.
“Hey, hey, I get it. No worries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, darlin’” Jake explains in a rush. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, force of habit.”
You huff out a laugh and another eye roll and you can see him fight a grin at your reaction. “Only you would describe flirting with someone as a habit, Jake.”
“Well, I’m one of a kind.”
“Shut up, Seresin,” you giggle, glad to be back on solid, friendly ground with him.
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 Two hours later, Jake sent you off with a hug and his phone number as you and your friend climbed into an Uber and set off for home. She had a few questions about the “dreamboat” of a Naval aviator that you had apparently dated back in school, but was a little too excited about recounting her own evening to push you for details. It wasn’t until you arrived back at your apartment and collapsed on your couch that you realized Jake had been texting you the whole time you were in the car.
Unknown: It’s Jake 🫡😜🤠⭐️🍻🏈😉
Unknown: Hope you get home safe, beautiful. It was great to catch up with you.
Unknown: And I would be an embarrassment to the U.S. Navy if I didn’t at least offer to be your tour guide around San Diego
Unknown: I know all the best spots after all
Unknown: So text me if you want to grab lunch or something
Unknown: Or if you finally want to learn how to surf
Unknown: But give me fair warning beforehand, I remember how bad your balance is lol
 
You: lol I forgot you text every single thought in your brain
You: but having a tour guide sounds nice
You: we could get brunch this weekend and you can give me the highlights?
 
You had only just begun to take your shoes off, resigned to finally get off the couch, when your phone pinged.
 
Jake 🤠 🧡: I know just the place
You gave his text a quick thumbs up and got ready for bed smiling the whole time.
-—-—-—-—-—
Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I don’t know if I’m going to have a regular schedule with this or anything, but I will do my best! Thank you for reading about the absolute menace that is Jake Seresin
Tagging some people who asked:
@tvshowgirl81 @redbarn1995 @stoneyggirl @keepingitlokiii @averyhotchner @dizzybee03 @olliepig @lynnevanss @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem @mamaskillerqueen @kmc1989 @hookslove1592
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sukunasteeth · 10 hours
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Insomnia
You had always had trouble sleeping.
As a child, you would wander the house in search of something to do, as a teenager you utilized it for spending countless nights painting the town red with your childhood best friend Yuji, but, as an adult, you find yourself spending more and more nights sitting in front of the window, waiting for the sun to rise in a peaceful quiet. 
The view was always better from your partner Sukuna’s apartment. Tucked into the very top of a complex that scraped against the sky, the city stretched out before his ceiling length windows like an endless mirage of glittering light. Looking out of them, you would never know it was three o’clock in the morning. The city still bustled, people the size of ants crossed the main streets below you in swathes of different walks of life; business men lost to highballs with too much whiskey, friends on their way to the next nightclub, shop workers calling to anyone with a pulse on the sidewalk. It was a perfect people-watching spot and a perfect distraction from the nightmare replaying in your head like a broken record. 
You’re sitting on the cold tile floors of his living room, curled up in a blanket you had taken from the arm of the couch. You’re positive Sukuna had never used it before and that it’s always been a decoration before you had arrived. Now, it was part of your nightly routine when Sukuna had you over to unfold it and curl in, while you spent countless hours drifting off in your own mind waiting for morning. 
It wouldn’t be long before Sukuna was up now, he had a meeting at seven o’clock in the morning that day. The two of you hadn’t gone to sleep until around midnight, naked and content. You wished you could sleep as deeply as he had been when you carefully crawled out of his bed half an hour ago, but you had accepted your insomnia by now. You found ways to live with the burden of it, and you had long since made friends with the silence and peace of nightfall. 
You always did feel guilty when Sukuna was affected by it. Like tonight, when your ears catch the door to his bedroom clicking open and you hear his bare feet against the tile approaching the living room. 
Your heart momentarily skips a beat. You think about hiding- sprinting into the bathroom as an excuse for your late night absence from his bed, but he makes it into the threshold of the living room before you get a chance to decide. 
Despite the guilt washing over you like a bucket of cold water, your heart still warms at the sight of him. He’s slipped into a pair of sweats to come find you and is still in the middle of putting on a tank top when he appears, sleepy and squinting against the light of the city signs glaring in. His hair is still a mess from your fingers pulling on it before bed, which somehow makes him even more heart wrenching to look at. Even when his eyes find you on the floor, and he immediately frowns you’re still starstruck by his sleep drunk appearance. 
“Why are you so good at that?” His voice is thick with sleep, but he talks to you as though you were just in the middle of a conversation. 
You tilt your head at him, peering over your shoulder in confusion. “Good at what?” 
“Leaving without waking me.” He scratches at the back of his head, yawning as he makes his way across the room to come stand beside you. One of his hands sweeps down his face, like he’s trying to wipe away his clear exhaustion. 
“It’s no easy task.” You admit, hoping your innocent smile is enough for him not to push any further. He stares down at you for a moment, searching your eyes reflecting in the neon of the city line. 
He huffs through his nose when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, muttering to himself as he plops down beside you and folds his legs into a cross-legged position. He’s close enough that his side is flush against yours, his knee resting over top of your own, grounding you. “So stubborn.” You hear him say. 
As if it were second nature, you immediately rest your head against his shoulder and his arm comes around your waist in turn, scooting you even closer to him. The two of you fit together perfectly by now. Constantly trading off between who was yin and who was yang, but always in equilibrium when you were side by side.
“I need to get you a bell.” He murmurs against the shadows of his living room.
You chuckle, “Yeah? Gonna collar me?” You’re just poking fun, but when you peek up at him expecting him to be chuckling too, you find his eyes honed in on your neck, like he’s considering it. 
He doesn’t give you an answer to that one, but you can see it in his eyes that your joke has been taken as a suggestion to be logged away for future use. You bury your face into his shoulder, feeling your cheeks burning in embarrassment. 
You don’t take it back.
 The two of you sit like that for a while, allowing Sukuna’s presence to diffuse the unease from your haunting dreams. He doesn’t have to do much to comfort you. When Sukuna was beside you, comfort was a given. He joins you in silent people-watching, his hand protectively curled over your backside as though he can feel the nightmares lingering just out of his sight. 
After a while, he squeezes you to catch your attention, but doesn’t ask you to pull away from your resting place against him. 
He turns his head to press his lips into your temple, and the way he whispers your name then has you convinced you’d tell him any secret you promised you’d take straight to the grave.  “Why are we awake?” He asks.  
“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper back,  as though you were afraid that the nightmares would hear you and realize they had won. 
Sukuna takes a few seconds breathing in your scent, patiently waiting for you to give him more information. He hums in disappointment when it’s clear that that’s all you were willing to share at the moment. 
“Suppose I didn’t work you hard enough last night.” 
It’s a joke. Such an obvious one that you can’t help but let out a laugh despite your thoughts weighing heavily. 
“Please,” You plead in a groan, “I barely made it to the living room without crawling on my hands and knees.” This was not a joke. Your legs shook like jello the moment you were on your feet and they ache with the memory of overexertion even when you're sitting. 
“I do love you on your hands and knees.” Another suggestion that you can tell he’s logged away for future use. At this point you were doing it to yourself.
 You still don’t take it back, though. 
“Let’s see,” He clears his throat and his voice takes a different cadence now, no longer conscientious of the time of night… or day rather. “The last time you had a nightmare and I caught you out here, you asked me to make you pancakes. I think I still have the mix in the cupboard…” 
You freeze up against him, your head moving mechanically upwards until you’re face to face with him. The man who reads you like a book. When you’ve tried so hard to stay shut up. When you’ve worked your entire life at achieving the perfect poker face. Time and time again he proves to you that it’s useless when he’s got your soul tucked away in his hold, yet, it never stops surprising you. 
Sukuna tilts his head, smiling like you’ve confirmed his suspicions with just one glance. “What? You think I don’t know that much, at the very least? How aloof you are~” 
He takes the opportunity to scoop your hair away from your shoulder and tuck a few strands behind your ears so that he can see your sleep deprived face clearly. At the same moment, his free hand reaches over and finds yours in the blankets.
He's smug with your shock.
“How long are you going to try to hide from me?” 
“I’m not hiding…” You whisper, even your own voice cannot bear to lie to him. He makes a warning noise, leaning closer like he can tell. 
“One day I’ll know it all. Every secret you want to keep from me. Every dream you’re too shy to tell me.” His mere proximity is enough to scramble your mind. The way his lips play just out of your reach, the way his nose brushes yours ever so slightly, the way his thumb presses into your ring finger, all of it has your focus split into too many incapacitating directions. “Your burdens. Your nightmares. All mine to bear.” 
You don’t doubt him. It’s yourself that you find apprehensive to trust. Convinced that your own mind was going to torture you with him there or not. You had spent years battling insomnia alone, and while you hated to deny him, you hated to get your own hopes up too.
“You can’t scare away all my nightmares, my love.” 
"Hmm, is that right?” Sukuna lifts your hand to his face, presses it against his lips, and places a kiss to the very center of your palm. It's almost as sweet as his next words, “Sounds like I'll just have to give you so many good dreams you’ll forget about the bad ones, then.” 
You wonder if you looked as awestruck as you felt in that moment.
He’s won. He knows he’s won. You can tell by that prideful toothy grin you feel him hiding behind your hand, the one you can see in the curve of his eyes. 
The way your heart climbs into your throat, like it’s desperate to be home in the palm of his hands, has you instantly knowing that you were truly a hopeless cause at this point. 
“When did you become so soft and sweet?” 
Sukuna laughs under his breath, “When I found out that’s just how you like it.” He answers easily, like he’s asked himself the same question before.  
“Now, do you want the pancakes or not?” 
Before you can remind him that he has a meeting in only a few hours, before you can assure him that you weren’t thinking of food at three o’clock in the morning, your stomach releases a growl that’s begging for Sukuna’s undivided attention. 
He snorts, not even bothering to wait for a verbal answer before he’s maneuvering to his feet, still grasping your hand gently in his own. 
“Come sit pretty on the counter for me.” He tugs you. “It’s cold out here.”
You don't think you've ever felt warmer.
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im-in-a-love-cult · 17 hours
Text
Random marauders headcanons!!
Sirius does not like physical touch unless it's a bro hug with James or Remus is touching him. He can make an exception if someones really upset tho
Regulus is one of those people who smoke then aggressively cough after. He tries to hide it when he smokes with Barty and Evan but he doesn't do great 😭
Barty is either sickly sweet to people (Pandora, Dorcas, Lily, Evan ect) or grabs at every opportunity to insult them (James, Sirius, not as much Remus funnily enough). And if he actually hates them he just punches them
Peter can breakdance strangely well??
Marlene doesn't wear makeup apart from an eyeliner pencil. Not in a pick me kinda way she just genuinely does not know what the fuck to do 😭
Regulus's favourite chocolate is white, and he loves sugar. Sirius is the opposite, he likes dark chocolate and doesnt mind sugar but it's definitely not his favourite
Dorcas is genuinely so sarcastic and funny, but Pandora does not understand sarcasm. My girl is confused
Peter is a silent judger. He will give you dirty looks and side eyes but if you ask what the problem is he's like 'nothingg...'
Mary really suits red and wears mostly that but she buys all her room decorations pink
Lily's favourite flowers are daisies. James always gets her Lilys and she finds it endearing, she doesn't tell him that tho (i love jegulus too don't bite me)
Majority of them smoke but Sirius, Remus and Barty do it most often. Remus doesn't like Sirius doing this. On the contrary, Pandoras never touched a cig in her life
Sirius and Regulus both have French accents, but Sirius's fades over the years. Of course, in some words he has a little French flair.
Pandora lets bugs crawl on her unless it's a hosile one. In that case, she gently scoops it of her and puts it where its safe
Lily and mary lie next to eachother in bed with facemasks on and they just sit in comfortable silence
Dorcas has really long natural nails. Her and Marls are both on the asexual spectrum so she doesn't need to trim them unless it's once in a blue moon.
Marlene sits cross-legged like a child whenever she can (same)
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tomssexdoll · 2 days
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alrigh hear me out so Tom and reader are enemies like reader is popular girl in school and Tom is outcast but they are in love and at some point when reader gets super drunk she comes to his and confesses her feelings but in a dumb way like she says stuff like “you belong in art museum” and Tom finds it funny and cute but he don’t believe her but it ends up being smut so basically fluff+smut with bits of angst (sorry if it’s long and i really love your fics)
GIRLL DONT APOLOGISE I LOVE DETAIL TYSM MWAH
Drunk in love
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PAIRINGS: Tom 2007 x Female reader CONTENT: SMUT + FLUFF SYPNOSIS: Y/N is super popular in school and is secretly in love with her outcast enemy Tom, at a party Y/N gets super drunk and confesses to him but in a silly way which he loves. A/N: hi WARNINGS: teasing and clothing action, dom!tom, sub!reader, fingering, p in v (riding)
Me and Tom kaulitz, the schools outcast, have been enemies for years. I never knew why, I guess it was because everyone disliked him so I picked it up too. I never really hated him though, I was always secretly in love with him.
Sneaking him winks and blowing kisses when no one was around. I knew he felt the same, doing it back and even kissing me on the bus once.
But that was years ago, now he was even more quiet, barely spoke to anyone or even looked at anyone.
One day I went up to him after school, I invited him to the party I had been invited to since I needed someone as weird as him there, my friends didn't understand him but I did, I liked his quirky personality and stupid jokes.
"Ew, why were you talking to him Y/N" my friend snickered as I came back to her, I rolled my eyes "shut up, you guys are so rude" I grunted and walked off, leaving them super confused.
The time of the party came, I put on a slutty dress and did my makeup and hair just how he liked it, I overheard him talking about his type to other people and knew I needed to impress him.
I showed up, searching everywhere for him and avoiding my friends. I gave up and sighed, getting a few shots and downing them slowly, the clear liquid burning my throat as it went down.
A few hours later, I was super drunk, stumbling and giggling everywhere. I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw Tom, I looked up at him and my face turned red, "Oh T-tom! You..came!" I slurred my words, handing him a drink. He gladly took it and started to drink with me, eventually getting as drunk as me.
We sat down on a nearby couch, talking about everything and nothing. It came to a point where I was just listening to him yap, admiring his beautiful features. He took account of this and chuckled, "gonna keep staring at me like that", I was shaken out of my trance and looked away, super embarrassed "sorry..I can't help it" I giggled nervously.
He grabbed my chin with his hand and turned my face to look at him again, "it's alright princess" he smiled, his smile and the words that came out of his mouth made me super wet.
"You know.." I slurred "you belong in an art museum, you're so handsome" I giggled, going closer to him and looking deeply into his eyes, "oh really?" he chuckled, "is that your silly way of confessing your feelings to me" he said jokingly, I nodded, surprising him.
"Yeah, I've liked you for 5 years.." I bit my lip, his eyes widened "we need to talk about this in private" he sighed and grabbed my arm, dragging me into an empty bedroom and locking it behind him, setting me down on the bed.
"It can't be possible..I mean..you're you..gorgeous and popular and I'm this, an outcast" he frowned "why would you like me?" I scoffed at his question, "why? because you're different, you care about me, you're not an asshole who just wants me for my body or popularity, I love your silly jokes and weird humor, I can never be like that around my friends" I sighed, resting my head on his arm softly.
He smiled and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer and kissing the top of my head, "the time you kissed me on the bus years ago made me fall for you even more, it was like reassurance, like you were saying 'dont worry i feel the same', it made me have hope" I grabbed one of his hands and intertwined my fingers in his.
He lifted my chin once again to face him, leaning in closer and pressing his plush lips against mine, his hands snaking to the back of my head, holding it softly as he deepened the kiss.
He pulled back softly, a small string of saliva following, "are you not worried about your reputation, being seen with me with your popularity will be scandalous" he chuckled, caressing the back of my head softly, "I don't care Tom, i'd rather spend the rest of my life with you than worry about what some idiots in high school think" I sighed "i'm sick and tired of worrying about what my friends think, they are irrelevant anyways, they all talk shit about each other, including me" I rolled my eyes.
He smiled softly, pecking my lips again, "how can you kiss so well anyways, thought you were an outcast" I giggled, teasing him.
He chuckled "everyone at school thinks I have no friends at all but that's not the case, i've been with a few girls before" "well, i'll be your girl from now on" I pushed him onto the bed softly, climbing on top of him.
His hands rested on my ass, cupping them gently, I kissed him passionately, grinding softly on his clothed cock. I felt it press against his pants, hardening slowly.
"I've imagined this moment so many times.." he whispered, kissing my neck softly, I giggled and slowly zipped my dress off, chucking it somewhere in the room.
"Holy fuck you're gorgeous.." his breath hitched, hands roaming over my body, tracing my curves. "Well I dressed up for you and you didn't even notice" I grunted, he scoffed "didn't notice? trust me i did, I was trying to hide my boner when approaching you" he said shyly, turning his face away.
I smiled, "fine, i'll take it" I started to take his top off, revealing his toned body, I bit my lip and felt myself get ever wetter. I slowly trailed my hands down to his pants, unbuckling his belt and dragging them off. His cock was pressed against his boxers, leaking precum and staining them.
"Someones excited" I smirked, pulling his cock out slowly. It sprang out, hitting his abdomen. My eyes widened at the size, mouth slightly agape.
"Jesus christ...I always knew you gave off big dick energy" he chuckled "it's probably cause i'm so quiet, isn't that what they say, quiet guys give off big dick energy" I nodded and giggled, slowly taking my panties off.
He bit his lip at the sight of my pussy, wet and aching for him. I poitioned myself and slowly sat down, his cock engulfing my pussy. It stopped at one point, not going any further, I was only a quarter down.
"Shit..it's too big Tom.." I looked down at him, panicked. He grunted and pulled me off him, flipping us over and hovering over me. "I'll make it fit baby" he kissed my neck, his fingers slowly entering me.
"Ah!" I moaned, his fingers ramming into my pussy, stretching it out, "just tell me if you want to stop, ok?" he smiled, I nodded and closed my eyes, trying to forget the pain.
His fingers curled at my g spot, warming up my hole for his big cock. Once he figured it was stretched out enough he retracted his fingers, slowly pushing his cock in again.
It finally fit this time, resisting a bit halfway but he made it fit, just like he said. He held me gently and thrusted in and out, careful not to hurt me.
I grunted in frustration, "faster!" I whined, he chuckled "okay..so impatient" he grabbed my hips, pulling me closer and started to pound into me, his tip hitting my sweet spot perfectly.
"Fuck..so tight" he groaned, rolling his head back. I held onto him, my arms wrapping around his back and scratching at it tightly, intense pleasure waves coursing throughout my body.
"Fuckk!" I moaned loudly, kissing his neck and sucking on it harshly, leaving dark purple marks everywhere. He continued to slam his cock into me, his thrusts getting harsher by the second.
Even though his thrusts were harsh and rough, his touch on me wasn't. It was like I was a delicate flower, meant to be handled gently. The way he held me close, occasionally caressed my thigh, he was my dream guy.
Like I had told him before, the guys I had been with were assholes. They'd just fuck me and finish, not even caring about my pleasure, I was just another hole to them.
I threw my head back, arching my back as he kept hitting my g spot. His head lowered, hands removing themselves from my hips and coming to my bra, pulling it down slightly, revealing my hard nipples.
He smirked and latched his lips onto one, sucking softly, the other hand teasing my other boob. I moaned loudly, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him in closer, deepening the connection.
"You're so sexy...so beautiful" he murmered on my tits, kissing the skin around my nipples, sucking gently and leaving marks on me too.
His tip kissed my cervix, hips slamming into mine with such force that the sound of skin slapping filled the air. I felt tension build in my tummy, signalling my awaiting orgasm.
"Gonna cum soon.." I whimpered, he smirked and picked up his pace, brutally pounding his cock into my cunt, making me scream in pleasure.
I felt the tension tighten even more, my orgasm washing over me, my pussy clenching on his cock tightly. He groaned and came in me, shooting his thick call all over my walls and coating it completely.
He collaped on top of me, trying to regain his breath. "Fuck...that was amazing y/n" he chuckled softly, kissing me gently. I nodded in response, wrapping my arms around him and holding him tightly.
After a few minutes he slowly pulled out, careful not to overstimulate me. Our shared juices softly dripped out of my hole, seeping onto the bed.
"Lord have mercy for who's going to clean this house" Tom smirked, I giggled "yeah, especially this room" I winked. He grabbed a tissue and cleaned me up, helping me put my clothes back on and kissing me lovingly.
"You know, I've never had a guy help me put my clothes back on after sex" I sighed, turning to him. Guilt washed over his eyes, his smile turning into a frown "you deserve better Y/N, i'm willing to give it to you, just give me a chance.." he caressed my cheek, pressing his forehead against mine.
"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" my eyes widened, pulling back. He nodded "please, I'll give you the world" he smiled softly, I looked deeply into his eyes, all that was staring back at me was sincerity, he was telling the truth.
"Oh my god Tom yes!" I squealed and pounced on him, hugging him tightly. He laughed, pulling me off and carrying me outside. All my friends stared in shock seeing us together, kissing and cuddling.
I glared back at them, enjoying my time with Tom. They came up to me, scoffing and crossing their arms, "what are you doing with this loser? I thought you hated him" I rolled my eyes "shut up chloe, you are so insufferable, I hate all of you and how mean you guys are, don't speak to me again we aren't friends anymore" I hissed at them "at least Tom treats me like the queen I am, you guys are miserable" I laughed at them, turning back to Tom and kissing him passionately, I felt him smile against my lips.
E/N: i can't lie i forgot the angst im sorry ily
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tags: @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @tomkaulitzloverr @ge-billsgf @estxkios @ballhair @charliesgoodboy @syylss
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pholla-jm · 1 day
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Sukuna with a S/O who has a sweet tooth/Loves eating sweets ?? :00
Like imagine most of the time they go on a date it's basically just reader and him going to different shops trying out desserts and sweets
Hello! Sorry it took me awhile! I got busy with work and my new class had just started. I decided to add some more to this. I hope you like it!! *********
Sweet Tooth
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IMAGINE: SWEET TOOTH~ SUKUNA X READER FEAT: GOJO GENRE: FLUFF cw: modern au! implied female reader, sukuna calls your woman. not proof read. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whenever Sukuna took you out, you would make him stop for a sweet treat. It could be for the slightest thing. Groceries? Sweet treat. Getting gas? Sweet treat? 
You will use any excuse to get sweet treats. 
This time, there was no real reason to convince Sukuna that you needed a sweet treat. Only that there was a new café opening up. Taking a quick glance at what would be on their menu, you already decided that you needed to go. It had most of your favorite pastries and drinks. 
“Please, Sukuna.” You pleaded to your boyfriend with your hands clasped together. You had asked him to take you, but you knew how much he didn’t care for places like that. He didn’t like the options they provided; they always smelled so sweet. And it sometimes stuck to his clothes. 
Sukuna has already decided to go with you, though. He would do anything for you. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make it easy for you. He loved to see you like this. 
“Please, I’ll make it worth your while.” 
Sukuna smirks at your words. 
“I’ll hold you to that.” 
Your face lit up at his words, “so does that mean you’ll take me?” 
“Yeah, brat.” 
“Yay! Thank you!” You say while wrapping your arms around his ample shoulders. 
Sukuna chuckles, squeezing you tight in return. 
When the time came, Sukuna couldn’t believe he agreed to something like this. Since the place was pretty new, there were a lot of people. The theme was coquette, which Sukuna wasn’t fond of. 
Sukuna settled with matcha mochi and coffee. In contrast, you had the most sickening sweets in front of you. 
When Sukuna looks at all of it, his stomach almost churns in disgust. But when he sees you gleam at the desserts and take happy bites, it erases his dislike for the sweet treats. He would spend hours in places like this to see your happy face. 
“What’s so great about these treats anyway?” Sukuna asks you. 
You were about to answer, but someone interrupted you. Someone that neither of you wanted to see. 
“Ooh, can I have some of that?” You look up to see the bright blue-eyed man named Gojo. 
“Ugh, no get away.” You say while shoving him away. 
“Awe, come on.” He pouts at you. 
Sukuna frowns at seeing Gojo. “Get away from (y/n).” 
Gojo’s eyes flicker over to the brooding man. His arms were crossed as he glared at Gojo. 
An annoying smirk now sits on his face, “why? Scared I might take her away?” 
Sukuna’s hand slams down on the table, and your face twists disgustingly. 
“Oh my god.. You’re so embarrassing niisan.” You whisper to Gojo, but Sukuna hears it. 
The anger slowly dissipates from his body, and confusion fills his head. 
“Brother?” He mumbles. 
“What? I can’t protect my little sister?” 
While the two of you bicker, Sukuna glances back and forth. 
Gojo and you didn’t look alike. Not a single feature looked the same. Some things are similar, like the hyper personality… and the major sweet tooth. 
“Well, I got to go. Thanks.” Gojo says after taking a bite of one of your cakes. 
He gives you a smug look before waving bye. 
“Ugh,” You groan before turning to Sukuna, “I’m sorry about him.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me he was your brother?” 
You look at him in confusion, “I didn’t?” 
Sukuna gives you a look, “I think I would remember something like that.” 
“Huh, sorry. I guess it just slipped.” 
“How does something like that slip?” 
You purse your lips, “well whenever I’m not around him… I just seem to not worry about him. You know?” 
Sukuna looks at you, a bit confused, which means you will explain it further. 
“Satoru and I aren’t full siblings. Same mom but different dads. But Gojo has always been the golden child. Everything is about him. He always got everything he wanted, but me? I was lucky to even be in the same room as him.” You chuckle while shaking your head. 
“So, it’s nice not having him around. I can do whatever I want without him around.” 
Sukuna nods, “and have whatever you want as well.” 
You smile at his words, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 
Sukuna scoffs, “of course I’m right, woman.” 
You laugh and shake your head. “It wasn’t long ago that I discovered my love for sweets. I never got sweets as a child, since Satoru hogged them all.” 
Sukuna smiles at you and leans forward. He grabs a napkin, wiping some of the icing away from the corner of your lips, “that just means I’ll have to spoil you more than.” 
Your face turns pink at his words and actions. 
“I’ll hold you to that.”
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just-jordie-things · 2 days
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really lovvvve toxic ex megumi who can't stop being around you after you're break up. follows you to the parties you attend, meets with you, you both have an argument and then make out. <33
The cycle repeats until you take him back, you might as well anyway, it's not like you can get rid of him<3
godddd toxic ex megumi <3 <3 we'll always go back to uuuu
you see him before he sees you. or at least, he happens to not be looking when your eyes find him in the crowd. it happens too naturally for your taste. instantly there's something bitter in your mouth and you feel your eye begin to twitch.
but you play it off and try not to pay him any attention. you're at a house party, and you already found some eye candy that would much better suit your attention for the time being. would you see him after tonight? no, definitely not. but the more you sip your drink and flutter your lashes at him, the more appealing he becomes. especially now that you-know-who is here.
and who invited him anyways? your mind wanders even as you keep your eyes on the handsome company you forget the name of. all that matters is he's blonde- not a ravenette- and he's got brown eyes -not deep, beautiful ocean blue...- and what were you thinking about again..?
"she has a boyfriend you know"
you have to shut your eyes to regain some false sense of peace. otherwise you would've whirlled around already to try to kick the shins of the 6 foot toxic piece of-
"you do?" your blonde placeholder looks down at you with confusion in his eyebrows. your own expression is unamused, bored, and quite frankly you're not sure who to direct it at at this point.
"she does" megumi confirms. your elbow hits his forearm in warning, but it's not nearly strong enough to get him to back off. he's already made his stance clear in coming straight to you in this crowd of people, and your gut is already telling you that you're going to fall for it.
"i don't, actually," you reply, giving your nameless suitor a sickeningly sweet smile. "in fact, i'd even go as far to say i've never been as single as i am right now"
the blonde man clearly isn't in the state of mind for these games, his eyes shifting between you and megumi, and it's obvious to you both that he's made up his mind before he's even said anything. you don't have to turn around to know that megumi is glaring this sucker down until he cowers out.
and as expected, your once suitor bids you a fast, "well, have a good time!" before turning and booking it away from you and your baggage.
your baggage grins down at you as he takes his place. you huff and shut your eyes again, this time pinching the bridge of your nose as you wrap your half-drunken head around what just happened.
"what the hell do you think you're-"
"you look stunning, by the way,"
megumi cuts you off, he could skip the part where you chew him out for his behavior, it's nothing he hasn't heard before. you try to smack his hand away when his fingers tug at the fabric resting over your hip, but he ignores that too. he's far too interested in watching the short skirt of your dress ride up your thigh when he tugs on it.
"i like this dress," he mumbles out his thoughts, and you should smack him again, but you don't. his knuckles graze your skin and your thoughts start to go blurry. "haven't seen this before"
"well, it's been a month, so..."
your answer is weak and you both know it. you hate that when he looks at you, your heart starts to race. you hate that you know what's coming next, and that if you wanted to badly enough, you could stop it.
because when megumi says, "come with me" and beckons you to follow him, you do without a word. you follow close behind him as he wanders through the crowd before he gets to the patio door, and you stupidly follow him out through it, where you're both alone.
"you can't keep doing this" you say, but it's a mumble, and when you lean into the exterior wall of the house, he's in your space again in a second.
megumi's convinced himself that he's not manipulative, you're just so willing. why else would you wear that dress to a party you knew he'd be at? why else would you follow him somewhere where you could be alone? and you don't exactly push him away when he leans in close and tilts your chin up to bring you even closer. you bat your lashes at him and pout your lips- you're practically begging for it.
"don't be like that baby," he murmurs and you're melting before him. did you leave your drink inside? because now you find your hands empty and you need something to fiddle with or else they're gonna end up in his hair- "missed you, y'know"
you sigh, shutting your eyes and trying to tilt your head away, lean it back into the wall, but megumi's quick to cup his large palm around the back of your head and bring you back towards him.
or into him would be more like it, because his lips are on yours without any other warning.
you move your hands to shove him away, but they have their own will and they end up fisting his tee shirt to pull him in closer until you're so pushed up against the wall that your dress is being dragged up your thighs. the material wants to bunch up at your hips, despite your efforts to keep yourself partially decent, megumi has other ideas in mind when he decides to grab you by the legs and lift you. his hips pin you to the wall again with an ease you're all too used to, and it's around then that you don't care where the state of your dress lies.
he has the nerve to mumble nothings into your mouth as you sloppily meet his lips in every heated kiss. things you've heard too many times,
"see? you missed me too"
"i knew you'd want to get back together"
"we're so good together, baby"
and as you always do, you'll fall for it for however long it lasts this time. because no matter how many times you've broken up, you've never gotten over megumi.
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supercalime · 3 days
Text
No one asked but I have a take haha.
I have zero problem with buck and eddie being an item, the biggest problem I have is their stans acting the way they are now with the current storyline with tommy.
I mean, I hate to break it to the b*ddie st*ns but you can think your friends are hot and like, not want to pursue them, whether you realize you’re queer or not. The fans are undermining so much of the current storyline that it makes me sad.
Im as aroace as one can be, but also I have eyes lol. I see hot/attractive people, I of course can admit that they are hot/attractive. It doesn’t mean that I want to be with them specifically sexually or romantically.
Also, figuring out your sexuality is confusing and weird. I definitely thought I had a crush on a friend solely because they were a person I got along with and spent a lot of time with and thought that was what I was supposed to do (by the time I thought I was allo).
What I mean is that it’s not always black and white when it comes to what attraction is.
Another thing, and this is pure speculation on my part: the actors are VERY aware of b*ddie and know that it’s one of the biggest reasons people keep watching the show, so they might keep on stirring the pot a bit in the interviews because they know it can create enough buzz for the show to trend and make the network/producers/investors keep renewing it so they can keep their jobs for as long as possible.
Im not saying b*ddie fans are delusional or anything like that but I am really disappointed how many of them (or at least a loud minority) is treating the canon ship as if it’s a stepping stone for another that has yet to be fully confirmed on screen. Sure there are signs in retrospect, but like I said, you can think someone is attractive without wanting to be with them.
This whole thing of buck having always been in love with eddie irks me a bit as it falls in a trope I don’t personally like (someone sticking around because they are pining over their friend the whole time and the friendship is a stepping stone to romance). I mean, if b*ddie happens and it’s done well, I’m all for it. What I really don’t want to happen is the trope I mentioned above. If it’s meant to happen, the best way in my opinion is for the two guys to develop those feelings with time, not it being a realization that they were in love the whole time. Heck, there are dcoms that did friends to lovers quite decently in the past and it wasn’t a “it has always been youuu” situation.
In conclusion, the only thing we gotta take is what is confirmed on screen, in canon. If we are supposed to listen to anyone talking about ships and storyline is Tim Menear and the other writers. And what has been confirmed so far by Tim is that Buck was jealous of Eddie being with Tommy because he was attracted to Tommy without realizing it. In canon so far, that’s what is happening and you have to accept that. The story is about Buck coming to terms with his bisexuality and him and Tommy being in a romantic relationship.
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When Life Gives You Lemons
Rise Donatello x Reader imagine
Info + Warnings: Reader's at the Lair to help Mikey in the kitchen. Mikey's caught up in something else. Donatello gives Reader a way to pass the time. No gendered language, pronouns, or Y.N used for Reader. Vague not-friends to might-be-friends with feelings. Set a few years post movie.
Commentary: He's much harder to write for than a certain blue menace. IDK if this even sounds like him.
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It's easy to think Donatello doesn't care.
Well... that's not true. You've seen him unveil his latest and greatest inventions- he cares so much it's impressive.
But it is easy to think he's extremely (impressively) neutral on you.
It's a kind of intense neutral that you haven't seen anywhere else.
He's polite. Or his version of polite, anyway. It's not like he avoids you, he just is neutral in a way that somehow pulls on your attention.
You can't explain how or why.
You're just aware of it the same way you're aware of his family's fondness for you. His near-apathy has the same volume as Leo's jokes and Raph's warm support and Mikey's excited integration of you into their schedules.
You call it Hamato Intensity, in the privacy of your own mind, the way they all are. It's shapeless and beyond definition, and you really shouldn't think too hard on it because it simply is the way that gravity just is, but you almost can't help yourself.
They just have a presence.
Maybe it has something to do with that Ninpō thing Mikey and April tried to explain to you. It's like magic, but it's not magic, but it's kinda magic? But then Donnie had cut in to explain that it was absolutely not magic and he had a whole PowerPoint and everything got very derailed very very quickly.
You were more confused at the end than you were when the conversation had started.
So you try not to think about it too much. You get that they're glowy and dangerous, and it has something to do with ancestral connections, and you think April's haunted, and that's just going to have to be enough.
It's a lot like how you don't quite get Donnie.
You're pretty sure he doesn't dislike you. Over the few months you've known the family, you've seen him dislike several people, and it is always extremely clear. It's sharp and hazardous and can be a little (lot) intimidating- and he's never been like that with you. He's just dry. A little reserved.
The weird part is that it isn't really... awkward?
Like, it should be. It so should be. Right now, with you sitting at their kitchen table waiting for Mikey to get home so you can help him with his latest culinary adventure (per his request) and Donnie silently brewing coffee and typing away at his gauntlet, it should be awkward.
It isn't.
It's comfortable, in a strange way.
The realization is a surprise- one only trumped by the surprise of him speaking.
He says your name in way of greeting, and your head whips around like he'd screamed.
"Yeah?" You say, confused.
You think it might be the first time he's said it to you.
He stares at you for a beat like he's studying you, just long enough for you to start to feel out of place. "Still waiting for Michael, I presume?"
"Yeah," You repeat, no less confused. More confused, you think. "He's grabbing ingredients. Apparently Leo ate the end of something and Mike's making him portal them around to replace it," You explain (over explain? You can't tell) with a fond amusement. "Said they couldn't find it at the first place they tried, so they're making extra stops."
Something dings on his wrist, and he drops his eyes to type something into his gauntlet again. "Excellent," He says neutrally, still typing. "That leaves you free to assist me."
You blink at him, confusion growing. Again.
He seems to notice, his hand stilling on his keyboard for an almost imperceptible moment. "If... you are not otherwise occupied, obviously."
"Um, no. Nah, I'm free," You respond, finding your footing again and deciding that much stranger things have happened, really. "What's up?"
"I require an extra set of hands in the lab, to hold a circuit board in place while neither crushing nor breaking it, which- despite his best efforts and gentle demeanor- makes Raphael a less-than-ideal candidate," He explains, his typing hand coming up to twirl once in midair in a very Donnie motion of simultaneous acknowledgment and dismissal.
It occurs to you that this is the same lab that may-or-may-not have some sort of nuke tucked away in it, depending on who you listen to.
The thought is brushed away by the realization that your curiosity outweighs your caution (again).
You slip out of your chair, nodding at him. "Sounds... uncharacteristically simple," You say, testing the waters with a gentle joke at his expense.
It seems to pay off as he nods. "I assure you, the end goal is extremely characteristic," He says, and it takes you a second to realize he's- it's not joking, but it has a self-aware, playful edge to it. It's subtle, but it's there, and it catches you off-guard as two robotic arms reach out and pour a mug of coffee without him looking.
"Then lead the way."
He turns without a word, retracting one metal arm as the other brings the mug to his hands before disappearing into his shell.
You follow him to his lab, hesitating just outside as he slips right back into his element.
You've been in the lab before, but it's rare, and usually with the company of his entire family. Here, you have no cues to follow.
He glances back at you and raises a brow.
"Do I... need to take off my shoes or anything?" You ask over the synth and bass filling the room, only half joking. It feels like walking into an operating room, like you need to sterilize your entire being before you breathe on any of the impressive technology.
"No," He says simply, turning back to his workbench, "The floor is cleaned bi-daily by SHELLDON. Bi-daily, in this case, being twice-per-day- not every other."
You nod at his back. Of course it is.
You walk towards him, not quite able to resist the urge to look around. You settle for keeping it subtle.
"Here," He says, pulling your attention from an organized mess of cables and metal hanging on the wall like technologically-advanced macrame. "Hold this over here, at roughly a 59.6 degree angle."
Taking the circuit board- a foot square and heavier than you expect- you nod again, trying not to laugh as you step to his side and lift it up to rest against yet another unintelligible pile of technology. "Right. 59.6 degrees."
"Roughly," He amends, the start of a smile visible in your peripheral. He reaches out- into your space- and nudges the board into a sharper tilt, presumably finding that approximate angle for you as his metal arms grab things from the tool chest behind him.
"Like this?" You ask, trying to hold still as he pulls away.
Oddly, you almost miss his space in your own.
"Roughly," He repeats dryly.
That's alright. You aren't striving for perfection.
Roughly is fine.
You feel compelled to strive for perfection.
You swallow the urge.
He's back, hands full of drill and screws and metal hands holding more metal pieces that you can't quite see around his battle shell as he crouches slightly to look at the underside of the board in your hands.
"Slide it to the left- your left, not mine."
You nudge it gently.
"More."
You nudge it again.
"More- too much, back the other way."
You cock a brow at him- or more accurately, at his red-and-blue goggles, which show you your own reflection. You can't see his eyes, but he must see you, because he mimics your expression.
You nudge it back the other way.
"Adequate," He says in something close to approval.
It's nicer to hear than it probably should be.
"This will be an unpleasant sound. It will jostle the board. If it slides out of alignment, we'll have to reset you."
"Alright."
He's correct- as per usual. It's a very unpleasant sound, metal on metal combined with the whir of the drill, followed by clanging as his battle arms hand him extra pieces and parts.
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He ends up entirely beneath the metal monstrosity, supported by the two metal arms as he leans back to look up at the machine's underbelly.
You end up in a long-abandoned rolling chair. You tell yourself it's just because Mikey isn't home yet.
Eventually, Donatello calls your name.
"Yeah?"
"Four-point-five millimeter hex key."
You glance over at the little work table he'd rolled over earlier, and spot a tray of neatly organized hex keys. A closer look reveals perfectly placed labels.
One reads 4.5, so you slip it out of its slot and roll forwards to pass it to him.
"Thank you."
You hum a little acknowledgment, and kick your chair back slightly.
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"-and for some insane reason, he decided to catapult himself-" You wave an arm out in emphasis, mid-story as Donnie meticulously wires together the plates you had installed, and a third metal arm darts out to gently catch your wrist.
You stop speaking, and you stare at each other.
"Hotplate," He says after a beat.
You glance over your shoulder, and your hand is being held just shy of a metal platform on the desk behind you. There's a little red light on the front, and a bright purple sign plastered neatly below it, warning Hot. Do Not Touch. Do Not Use As Microwave.
"Thanks," You says softly. You can feel heat wafting off it now, enough to give you the impression that had he not interceded, you'd be nursing a nasty burn.
He hums and retracts the hand, tucking it neatly into his battleshell. "You were reminding me of Nardo's foolhardy ways?" He prompts, attention already returning to the project in front of him.
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Eventually, you hear Mikey holler from outside the lab, calling you.
"I guess that's my cue," You say.
Donatello does not look up. "Agreed. I appreciate your assistance."
"Any time," You say casually.
As you turn to leave, you're absolutely dumbfounded to realize you actually mean it.
You've enjoyed your stint as his lab assistant.
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"How was the lab?" Mikey asks, a little too playful for your tastes.
"Hazardous," You quip dryly, replaying the hotplate incident. "No wonder he's so protective of it."
You miss Mikey's response, mentally counting metal hands.
Donatello's battleshell has more than two.
You're pretty sure you've seen him with five before.
...So why did he need help?
"Hello?" Mikey asks gently, an innocent- too innocent- smile on his face.
"Sorry, flashbacks to my near-death experience." It's not quite a lie.
He doesn't quite buy it.
"I said if he asks you to test fit a helmet, say no," Mikey repeats.
You nod slowly. "Speaking from experience?"
"Don't worry about it," He chirps, slipping an apron over his head. "Speaking of experiences, are you ready for Angelo's All-You-Can-Beat Eggstravaganza?"
"Absolutely," You grin, happy for the change of subject.
And excited for lemon bars.
Win-win.
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"You're telling me-"
"Nardo, don't-"
"I teleported all over New York and the Hidden City-"
"You are in the way-"
"So that you could get your wrenches passed to you?" Leo exclaims, the picture of incredulity as he stands between Donnie and the equipment you'd helped with. "That was your grand plan?"
"I had no grand plan," Donnie responds, stubbornly sidestepping his twin. "Michelangelo had a grand plan. I was a victim, dear brother, same as you."
"Oh, of course, of course," He says, hands coming up in dramatic surrender. "Because spending time with someone you have the hots for-"
Donnie taps at his gauntlet, turning his music up over his brother while sliding back beneath his newest baby.
"-Is exactly the same as stopping in thirteen stores-" Leo continues louder, undeterred- "for a niche lemon species you eventually start to think Mikey made up!"
"And did he?"
"He might as well have, for how deep into Witch Town we ended up!"
Donatello rolls his eyes sharply, adjusting bolts above himself.
They don't need adjusting.
"If you don't come out to try their lemon bars- and sing their fucking praises- I will come in here and haul you out myself," Leonardo proclaims, ducking into Donnie's space. Persistent, unyielding, obstinate. "And I will tell everyone- everyone, you heard me- about last month and the rollerskates-"
"You are a monster."
"And I will do so in detail," Leo finishes, a smug grin on his face.
Donnie glares at him.
"We're not kids anymore, hermano," He says matter-of-factly. "You've taken on supervillains, aliens, ancient mystic entities, and all of NASA's cybersecurity-"
"Allegedly."
"-You can handle a direct conversation without hiding behind your tech."
Donatello does not respond.
Leo pats the metal chassis they're hunched beneath in lieu of touching Donatello himself and takes his leave.
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The kitchen is loud when you and Mikey present a tray of perfectly sliced, perfectly proportioned lemon bars, each presented in an adorable white paper liner and covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar.
It's loud and happy and sounds like love, and you find yourself marveling at that Hamato Intensity again as Raph and Casey bicker about the wrestling match they both watched the night before and Casey Jr excitedly asks Mikey all about the bars and April and Leo and Splinter sneak in closer to the tray, only freezing when Mikey fixes them with a dangerous glare over Junior's shoulder.
It's a lot. They're a lot.
It smells like citrus and sugar and coffee.
The coffee reminds you of the smell of steel, which reminds you of the clanging of metal, which reminds you of whirring drills and gentle nudges and self-assured sass from beneath a machine you still don't understand.
And then you're jolted from the surprisingly warm memory by Mikey sliding a lemon bar just under your nose, happily saying something about chef privileges, and the bars taste every bit as good as they smell and he's grinning broadly and your heart feels warm all over again at the happy sounds from the group you love so much.
Metal claws dip into your vision, dangling your keys in front of your face like a worm in front of a fish. "Missing something?" Donatello asks dryly, quietly, from behind you.
"Where were these?" You ask, cupping your hands beneath them and catching as the metal claw releases.
"Workbench," He says simply, his claw- and another- darting forwards and grabbing two bars by their liners. He drops one in your hands and takes the other, tucking his metal extensions away. "How did these turn out?"
"Why don't you try it and find out?"
"I like to know what I'm getting into."
"I'm biased," You shoot back, your voices similarly amused. "As a man of science, you recognize the issue here, no?"
"Touché." He takes a bite, chewing slowly, thoughtfully.
"...So?"
"It appears you are more-than-adequate in the kitchen as well," He says, and it feels like a compliment.
It feels like a big one.
You nod, playfully smug. "I'm happy to hear it."
You are.
The realization makes you feel a little brave. "If you find yourself needing an assistant again..."
"I'd have to be able to steal you away from Mikey."
"I think he can share."
"In that case," Donnie says, amusement in his voice as he speaks beneath the noise of his family, just to you, "I will keep you in mind."
It doesn't sound half bad, really.
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Hi how have you been
Can I make request for Nesta? Just her being very protective of her innocent gf who is too nice to people and does not know when she is being used and manipulated (so relatable) so nesta always needs to be with her to make sure she doesn’t get taken advantage of
Best Friends Forever
Nesta x reader
A/n: I would kill for a protective gf like Nes. She also gives scary gf privileges. I also could’ve used her to weed out my shitty friends because I was so bad at that.
Warnings: none
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Nesta had sworn you were supposed to be out with your friends. She had sworn she heard you tell Gwyn over morning tea, excitedly for that matter, about your plans. So when she arrived home later that afternoon Nesta was confused as to why you were home.
You were curled up on the couch, your favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around your body, with a book in hand. Nesta didn’t ask why. You already had a frown on your face, Nesta didn’t want to upset you anymore.
Weeks went by. Nesta watched as the vicious cycle continued. Your friends promising to hang out with you and then canceling or straight up telling you, “oh, so-and-so will be there and you don’t like each other, so you shouldn’t come out.” You put on a brave face, acting like it didn’t bother you.
It did. Nesta knew it did. The problem, besides your “friends”, was that Nesta didn’t know how to help. She wanted to be mean to your friends. Hell, she wanted to throttle them. The Valkyrie has been protective of you since the day she met you. The fact that you’re being treated so poorly drove her crazy.
You had finally broached the subject, telling Nesta how you felt and that you would talk to them. Of course this conversation came mere weeks before Starfall. Just in time for them to get back in your good graces to go to the party at the River House.
It’s been days since your conversation with your friends. “It went well,” you said joyfully as you strolled along the bridge above the Sidra, hand-in-hand with Nesta. “That’s good.” Nesta said, not fully believing either of your words.
The two of you chatted about any and everything as you explored town. Passing by a restaurant’s patio seating you hear familiar laughter that has you stopping dead in your tracks. Nesta didn’t need to ask you who it was. She knew and she was fuming.
Looking down at you she felt her face heat with anger. Your lips turned down in a small, heartbreaking frown, defeat clouding your eyes. “I asked if we could hang out today.” Your voice came out small. That was Nesta’s breaking point.
Dropping your hand she smoothed down the bodice of her dress to her skirt, taking a long inhale and letting out a long exhale. She turns to face you, gently holding your shoulders. “Why don’t you go into that shop over there,” she points over your shoulder, “and pick out something you want.” Nesta smiles at you softly. You don’t have it in you to argue. Your friends deserved whatever tongue lashing Nesta would give them and you weren’t going to stop your girlfriend.
Nesta stomped over to the table of females, casting a dark shadow as she stared down her nose at them. Those silver flames burning bright in her gray eyes. They all stopped to look at her. The scent of their on her tongue. It was no secret they were never comfortable around the oldest Archeron. Which made Nesta’s job here easier.
“You are the most wretched group of females I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. At least some of the fae here are honest about getting into Rhysand’s good graces but you. You lot just lie and use y/n. She is the last person who deserves to be used. Now I could point out other flaws you all have but that would include me standing here and speaking to you longer than you should have the privilege of. Stay away from y/n, my sister, and the High Lord. Or I won’t be so nice next time.”
Before they could have a reaction Nesta briskly turned on her heel and walked away. Entering the shop she sent you to she found you lurking by a clothing rack by the front window. You immediately ran to her, hugging her tightly around her middle and burying your face in her chest. “Thank you.” You mumble against her.
Nesta squeezed you tighter to her, kissing the top of your head. “Of course my love.” You stayed like that for a few more moments before Nesta spoke again. “I’m interviewing all future friends.” You let out a small laugh in answer. “Deal. But on one condition.” You lean away and meet her curious gaze. “You’re my only best friend.” Nesta pecked your lips, holding your face in her hands. “Always and forever, my love.”
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akutasoda · 20 hours
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Well then in that case.
You can fic or Headcanons, may I request AlHaitham and Cyno with an s/o that like to dip their face into his chest. Listen man. When you saw those abs so CLEARLY. CYNO not wearing any shirt chest open like that UHMMM~ Let me stuffed my face into that 😩🤭
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personal pillow
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synopsis - how they react when their s/o likes to dip their face into their chest
includes - cyno, alhaitham
warnings - gn!reader, slight crack, fluff, wc - 508
a/n: couldn't decide between hcs or fic so a little mix of both!
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cyno ★↷
↪cyno wasn't exactly the most accustomed to relationships and things people would do as a couple and so he became rather confused when you would randomly dip your face into his chest (he's 5'3 so good luck if you're taller).
↪if he really thought about it, he did notice how he'd sometimes catch you staring at him and he'd always ask if something was wrong but you'd tell him everything was fine - so he never really questioned you apart from the first time you surprised him...
---✩
it was a rare day where both you and cyno had time to yourselves - he hadn't been called anywhere and you had the day off. so you took the initiative and take him to a spot in the forests that was suggested to you by tighnari, a beautiful area with nobody around. a small picnic was all it really was. but it was a small fleeting moment for both you and cyno to spend time together.
it was nice, you two passionately talked back and forth about a range of subjects and you laughed at his horrible dad jokes because you wanted to treasure this moment. although you couldn't help but pick up on the fact that your eyes would occasionally drift to his chest. i mean, who could blame you when cyno openly walked around shirtless every single day and no desert heat could be an excuse in the middle of sumeru or the forest.
'is something the matter' cyno asked, perhaps he also picked up on the fact you had been staring for a bit too long. you shook your head and dismissed any concerns but you quickly went back on your words as you promptly dipped your face into his chest without much of a warning. you could practically hear his heartbeat increase as he sat there with a rather shocked expression.
there was a while of silence before you lifted your head to a flustered cyno and you claimed that nothing was wrong now before continuing as if you didn't just bury your face into his open chest. cyno struggled a tad to fight the blush forming on his face and tried to distract himself by re-engaging your previous conversation with a few stutters here and there.
---✩
↪even though it caught him off guard many times, he wouldn't say he didn't enjoy it. there was something weirdly flattering to him that you would openly choose to dip your face into his chest - and in honesty, if he didn't like it he'd tell you or actually put a shirt on.
↪he'd let you dip your face into his chest practically anywhere if you wanted to, he understood he went away quite a bit of duty and so it was to make up for that.
↪he wouldn't really ask you why but if he did he most likely would just be met with a response along the lines of 'maybe if you put a shirt on you, it wouldn't be such a tempting offer' although he doubts you would stop if he did so.
alhaitham ★↷
↪alhaitham never really would've guessed you'd be the kind to resort to dipping your face in his chest. sure he'd seen you do a few dumb things but this really would blow his predictions about you and your actions out of the water.
↪maybe he should've picked up the signs - especially when he'd catch ypu staring - sooner so that the first time you ever did it, it wouldn't give him a shock as he didn't quite know how to react...
---✩
it had been a very long day for you, the akademiya had kept you running back and forth instead of allowing your job to be simple for a change. you were absolutely exhausted and your whole body was aching for a minute of rest that didn't even have the opportunity to arise until you made it to the front door of your lovers, and his blonde companion, home.
your eyes felt like they were drooping as you fumbled around in your bag to find the key, eventually you managed to push the door open. you immediately slumped your bag beside the door even though you knew alhaitham would complain later because it would 'be in the way', but how could he complain when you occupied his attention?
you sought out his attention immediately, all you wanted was to curl up next to him and bury your face into his chest - who could blame you really. he was home, you knew he was, the akademiya had granted him a rare day off and he made it very clear not to be disturbed but you didn't really care about that right now. alhaitham could be found in his room slouched against the couch's armrest with a book in hand. he barely had time to look up at you when you entered the room before you had crossed it entirely and pulled the book out of his hand, immediately face planting into his chest.
'and what do you thi-' he hadn't the chance to finish before you lifted your head slightly and pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing manner and then puttiing your head back into his chest. you heard and felt his chest lift and sink again as he let out a long drawn out sigh. he had a mind to push you off and comment on your behaviour but he couldn't even bring himself to nudge you off. sure it was unexpected but a part of him felt like he should expect the most random things from you and so the shock easily wore off.
he felt you nuzzle your way impossibly closer into his chest and he knew he had no chance of leaving anytime soon. the closest he had to moving was reaching for another book on the side table and begin reading again.
---✩
↪now that he knew of your little habit he could prepare himself mentally for your attacks. he didn't really mind but his one rule was for you not to dip your face into his chest in public, he was a rather important figure and he didn't need people seeing him indulge you in your habit.
↪no, kaveh did not count as public at home - he could get over it. alhaitham quickly learnt just to ignore you if you dipped your head into his chest and could just wait until you decided you had your fill.
↪he would always sight at you and question your behaviour but you knew if he really didn't like you doing it, he would easily push you off and scold you.
↪he asked you once why you liked to, and he regretted it immediately when you looked at him then his chest before looking him in the eyes and gesturing to his chest.
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akutasoda's 1k event
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yuuuhiii · 2 days
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Hellloo! Here for your even! Can this match-up happen in JJK?
How about a reader who is very selective with their peers but hold those people very dear. They're also a big bookworm and astronomy nerd so do with what you can! They're also concious of being left behind and alone and wouldn't show it, thus would constantly do everything to help and be kind under a perfectionist but reassuring chatacter.
I hope this isn't too confusing! Thank you for reading this request!
I match you with KENTO NANAMI
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Kento holds you to a high standard in his books. You’re wife material really, however, he thinks maybe he’ll talk about that another time.
You guys are alike in many ways but different as well. He values your self-proclaimed flaws even though he tells you you're perfect.
Both of your guy's groups are small, having been in that group for most of high school both of you grew and learned to keep it small. Losing people or just being careful with who to bring around was helpful for both of you.
Kento feeds your reading obsession. If you guys aren't home then you're in a cafe or library. He spoils you to the absolute max.
You mentioned a book sounded interesting? It's wrapped with a ribbon on your bed.
Do you stare at a ring for more than a couple seconds? It's your new promise ring.
You scold him about his tendencies but he always says the same thing. “I'm just pampering the woman who holds my heart.”
Now other than the libraries and cafes you guys are at observatories. Or even out where you have a full view of the night sky and shimmering stars.
More times than not, he falls asleep to your voice, explaining to him which constellation is which. Your fingers trace the structure onto his bare skin.
He thinks you're the prettiest like this. The moonlight illuminating your features enough that you resemble a star yourself.
He tells you all the time you'd be the sun. Since you've always seemed to brighten his day every waking moment.
When he misses you and he's away at work he knows where to look. While it's day, he treasures how bright it is. While it's night, he admires the stars.
Kento knows what it’s like to feel and be alone. He’s always enjoyed solitude, although meeting you has changed him. Now when you aren’t with him he finds himself counting down the hours until he’ll be with you again.
He wonders if when your wedding day arrives he’d be able to access a sample of the moon in your ring. Just so he can prove it when he tells you he loves you to the moon and back. He remembers a poem you wrote, you said it was of him.
“Like the moon. Everyone admires me. But I’m always alone.”
He thinks back to it and he brings it up to you now. He tells you that if he’s the moon then you’re the sun and that doesn't make him alone. Because his life revolves around you.
Without him there’d be no moonlight.
And without you, there’d be no gravity to ground him.
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© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
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I cannot let this show go without writing my goodbyes... Deep Night Final EP
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Deep night was everything and more. It was a show that was made with insane love, thought and care and it fucking shows. That loves shines through the screen and it is GUARANTEED to warm your cold dead heart. Cheewin has always made his shows a bit more grounded, a bit more queer, a bit more real. Since YYY you can just tell there's someone in the crew that understands queer experience and this was it again. The good parts, the sad parts, the struggle without exploting it for pity. It showcased confusion and acceptance and love and love and love. So many different kinds of love.
Wela and Khemtid
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These two developed so beautifully, from people who misunderstood eachother, to people who felt attracted to each other but still didn't get it, to people who listened, apologized, leaned on, supported, loved, cared for eachother. Khemtid's enchantment with wela blossomed after they fought about Wela's job, he realized that acceptance was the better route to take and he just worked hard to get it right, to make up for it, to help. Wela at the same time tried so hard as well to understand Khem's feelings, making it easier for them to reach the middle ground. He worked so hard with Khem to keep the club afloat, he was never mean to his coworkers, he carried the whole world on his back and still stood proud. They went from strangers to these two adorable dorks who hold hands and smile while kissing. I'm sorry but Khemtid smiling like he just won the world while giving his injured bboyfriend a handjob at the back of the club made my heart burn. That's complicity and partnership and mischief and intimacy. They stand on equal ground and that's so meaningful to me.
Then we have these three dorks
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The true rivals to lovers. I talked about this in my previous Deep Night post but it was brilliant. Their storyline developed so subtly and naturally I cried last week. The way Japan and Ken's love bloomed out of love for Seiji... like it's not that they're just dating Seiji, they're dating eachother and that comes from a trust that developed from and understanding, that grew from care into desire. Last week's episode showing Japan as the center of his fantasy showed that, Japan is also attracted to Ken, and Ken's heart has melted for Japan as well, unknowingly. The talk they had was so necessary, so respectful and rooted on concern and an actual attempt to build something that left no one out. Seriously the way they're sitting in the end, with Ken brushing Japans hand, the way Japan held Ken's hand and brought him into the hug to welcome him, to shelter him. I love that it wasn't fetishized. (Because we've tackeled threesomes before in other shows but not romantic love) I love them, they love each other, this is healing.
Freya and Meiji
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They are EVERYTHING. Honestly the role of women, specifically queer women in queer spaces has been overlooked for way too long. They take on the role of caring, protecting and supporting the whole club, the boys themselves and themselves. The fact that Freya's character was divorced and was constantly under attack from her ex-husbands family now existing with a same-sex partner was so complex yet beautifuly handled. Meiji was not just some random chic they threw in to gay it up, she was important to Freya, she helped at the club, she wasn't much around but when she was on screen she was Freya's rock. The talk on age... bro that shook me to the bone. Media is so focused on youth their questioning was so valid and so painful to watch... but it healed. Fuck I'm crying watching this. Everyone deserves to be loved by THEMSELVES.
Khem and Freya
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gET TF OUT I WANT TO BE ALONE this mother-son relationship was amazing. Both characters grew so much out of love for each other I want to swallow a shotgun. The was it was alway Freya trying to gain Khemtids approval was so heartbreaking, and watching Khemtid LEARN to accept and love his mom, accept and love the club, accept and love the role they play... fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK
Also we cannot forget Dai
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I don't even have words to explain how great this character was. Outfits on point, personality strong and unmoving, loud and authentic and accepted and part of everything and capable and necessary and just EVERYTHING. And the fact that Dai was perceived as a potential love interest for Freya without it being a joke or mockery was gold. Apart from that, all of these characters and storylines are interwoven in a net of complexity, social norms, real struggles but also real coping mechanisms. I also want to LOUDLY RECOGNIZE the work put into it, as they all worked hard to actually get on stage and perform acrobatics like their characters. There was just so much attention to detail and to making things right I want to cry just thinking about it. Please please please if you havent... Watch it. It may not be revolutionary but it's perfect to me. Deep night is a very queer show that decided to open a lot of wounds just to let them heal properly. THANK YOU DEEP NIGHT. I expected nothing from you and you're now part of me.
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