#(I say lying thru my teeth)

[cheetahf]

Starlo fight in pacifist be like

Og image under cut + alt version

[mocha-tapioca]

literally i love just LURKING on here. i have truly become eldritch horror. my ass is a CRYPTID. i log on, dm a couple people, like a post or two and then fly under the radar again for the next 24 hours

[mosspapi]

I'm already 15 words over the limit for this essay with a barely-completed conclusion paragraph, and still want to add another like 200 words of analysis on one page from one chapter of one reading that I'm supposed to b analyzing. Send help

[finsplurtz]

OMGGG SUB!CHOSO FAILING TO DOM HIS BF PLEASEE!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

[a little bit of feminization and dumbification doesn't hurt anybody]

— sorry i take decades to finish requests😖😖

breeds u — choso.kamo

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Choso kamo

— contents : Choso fails to dom u lol! Blowjob , cute Choso helpp , mention of blood in der.. dumbification if u ssquiiinttt , feminization so terms like “boypussy” n stuff , breeding kink , overstim n cute

warnings : mad ooc i js realized .. nothing too srs

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Your heart fluttered hearing your boyfriend ask you if you’d let him dom you. it’s just that was super cute and although it would go the way he’d want it to, you like to let him try.

according to him, he has been preparing for this moment which….was insane but he’d learnt a lot about this and was confident I mean CONFIDENT he’d dom you.

You were lying down comfortable watching your cute partner begin with jerking you off. You let out a pleasant sigh and close your eyes, relaxing to Choso’s touch.

though Choso has been extremely prepared, now that he was actually here and doing this….. everything he learned began to leave his pretty little head. He pondered, what does he do next?? He leaned down keeping his eyes on your face, he stuck his tongue out and licked at your tip.

You opened your eyes and looked down while he quickly averted his eyes, embarrassed. You brought your hand over to one of his cute pigtails and played with it, watching him shudder at your touch.

You gently pushed his head down on your cock expecting him to fight you off since he was soo ready but..he just let it happen. gladly taking your dick deeper down his throat.

your other hand made it to his other tied up pigtail and used it to fuck into his throat faster and faster, desperate moans leaving your throat the closer you got to coming. He gripped your thighs, his cheeks were crimson red and the scar over his nose leaked blood.

was he going to let you come? your dick twitched crazily in his mouth, it’d be fucking cruel if he pulled off now..

you gasped as your semen poured down Choso’s throat. You let go and tried catching your breath, running your fingers thru your hair to get it out the way. you peaked down at Choso who just looked at you nervously.

“..did…I mess..up..” he said in a low voice looking away sheepishly.

“Ohohh baby..” you sat up and smirked, cupping Choso’s face and leaving kisses on there. As you did that, you slipped his pigtails out of their tie and massaged his head.

“…you’re not supposed to do that” you kiss him before he could say anything and bring your hand down to jerk him off making him squirm and freak out.

he crawls closer, straddling your lap as you begin to finger him open, he’s moaning in your mouth, saliva tripling down his mouth.

“it’s okay, hon….you know what you are good at..?” Choso’s shaking as you rub your tip into his hole slowly.

“you’re good at fucking me with your cute boypussy..” you whisper and grab his ass, thrusting deeply into his tight hole.

“ahgn yn..! w..wait..” he’s flailing his hands around not knowing where to place them. “don’t worry ‘oso , just let me take care of you baby….” you kiss his chest and grind into his hips.

—

“ack—! s..ow…mmhhhn! da..~” you pressed your palm against his abdomen as you fuck him deeper, you can’t understand a single thing he’s trying to say you just love his sweet whimpers that sound like music to your ears.

“shhiitt…your pussy’s so..tigh..t..” Choso’s dick twitched at your words before releasing all over his tummy once again with a gasp of relief.

“hnnn..look at how deep I’m in you…” you slow down and admire the small bulge that disappeared and reappeared every time you moved.

“you were born for this…..born to go stupid on my cock and have my kids..” you say thru gritted teeth, Choso’s way too out of it to say anything back. just nodding in agreement with a faint smile on his face.

“yeah..? you’d love that…to be the mother to my kids” you giggled at your own words watching your dumb boyfriend struggle to stay conscious, scratching the sheets and letting out staggered cries. His nose and cheeks were smeared with blood, the red looks amazing on him.

you got closer and grabbed his wrists and fucked him harder than before, he’s screaming and squirming every time your cock hits his g spot, the overstim hurts and he almost can’t handle it.

you lean down and kiss his neck and jaw as you spill your seed inside his swollen hole. Small cries, you could feel his trembling body underneath you try to get you off. you didn’t even bother pulling out, you just moved over to the side and spooned him tightly.

you both knock out and he gets a tummy ache and starts questioning if u actually put a baby in him

a/n; can u guys tell i hate coming up with titles…. anyways come run in here n get y’all’s juice

[stuffyflowers]

oh just fuck of……….

I genuinely can't remember where her happy sprite was used and I feel like that says something

Girlie having a brief whimsy in the (second) shittest day of her life

^_^

[trashland-llamas]

Leakage

Written as a part of the @extremetimedchallengeexchange 2024; Prompt was - Jason Todd (transgender, closeted) at a gala, bleeding thru his pants: i. uh. got stabbed?

Can also be found on AO3

[. . .]

Jason had decided to attend another one of Bruce’s splendid galas. Dressed in a burgundy dress shirt paired with a white pantsuit. Aware that it was risky with how irregular his period had become once starting testosterone.

But Dick had convinced him to match with the other robins, all wearing their signature color. Which was then further accented by the white.

Plus Jason didn’t really have any excuse, having kept his transition a secret since his adoption. Easier said than done when you live with the world’s best detectives.

So Jason bit his tongue and hid his misery behind a well placed smirk. ‘You’re not actually enjoying yourself are you?’ A green cane hit his foot. Stopping himself from snapping at the cane’s owner.

‘Is that so bad Damian?’ Jason turned around, noting how he had slicked back his hair for the event. ‘Oh, sorry that seeing you so sour-pussed all the time makes it disconcerting to see you happy,’ Damian quipped. To spite him, Jason flashed him a disingenuous smile. Fully exposing his teeth to the younger.

A hand clutched his lower stomach as he felt a sudden cramp. Not thinking much, that there’d only be some slight spotting in his boxers.

The duo’s conversation interrupted by a dutiful benefactor. Reminding Jason of the whole purpose behind these galas. To maintain the front that is Bruce Wayne as a public persona but to also show their gratitude as a family to the charities’ donors.

Disembarking, they start to make the rounds. Jason relied on his memorized script, personalized with a little improv. ‘It was nice seeing you again.’ Jason says to the ninth person whose name he doesn’t remember but vaguely knows their face.

Everything’s going smoothly until a guest shrieks in horror, confusing Jason. Until he looks down and sees the sea of red staining his pants. He’s hyperventilating when a warm hand grabs his wrist.

Meeting the bloodshot blue eyes of Tim Drake. ‘Are you injured?’ Is the first thing Tim asks, undoing Jason’s collar. ‘Uh, I was…stabbed?’ The uncertainty tells Tim that he’s lying. Not that it was anywhere close to a successful lie.

The air tense as Jason was still shaking like a leaf. ‘Please, Jay. Please let me help you,’ Tim pleads. Unable to piece together enough information to figure it out himself. Not wanting to invade Jason’s personal space anymore than he already was.

‘I’m on my period,’ comes his uncharacteristically meek answer. ‘I’m trans, been transitioning since before we met.’ Hearing a soft ‘oh,’ Jason chances a glance at his younger brother. ‘I haven’t had a period in years except for some spotting here and there.’

‘Why did you come to the gala if you weren’t feeling well?’ Tim had seen Jason suffer through the pain as often as he had seen him ditch a gala. ‘I didn’t know until sometime during. Thought I could make it through the night.’

‘Got any safe houses nearby?’ Tim decides to get him out of here, texting Damian a bullshit excuse as to why they left. Trusting him and Dick to be handle it. ‘Yea,’ Jason taps the directions into Tim’s phone.

Tim awkwardly watches from the doorframe as Jason rummages around. Chucking the pants in the trash, too exhausted to soak them in cold water. Then grabbing a pad, pair of boxer and some comfy clothes. ‘You can come in if you want.’ He calls to Tim before running off to the adjacent bathroom.

‘Anything I can do, Jay?’ Tim pipes up. ‘Uh, can you grab the electric blanket? Should be in the dresser, bottom drawer.’ Following his instructions, Jason exited. Sat under the covers, he guided Tim in placing it on his lower stomach.

‘Do you want me to stay?’ Jason nods at his question, laying his head on Tim’s shoulder. The duo quickly fell asleep, oblivious of the Wayne driving his way over.

[loving-n0t-heyting]

One of my biggest takeaways from vincent bevins new book was the incredible dedication and effectiveness possible from neoliberal/libertarian entryist movements. He focuses on the free brazil movement, which successfully coopted much of the energy and political disaffection coming out of the 2013 protests in brazil that began with an anarcho-socialist campaign to prevent transportation fare hikes. The very name (movimiento brasil livre, or mbl, vs movimiento passe livre, or mpl) was effectively predatory mimicry of the initiating free fare movt, and it becomes clear throughout bevins exposition that they were able to carefully craft a cool, rebellious brand that eventually helped wrest national sentiment and political power away from the then-dominant workers party. The fact they were backed by the atlas network in dc turned out to help rather than hurt (given that it, yk, supplied them with gobs and gobs of money)

Bevins clearly doesn't think highly of the more dissembling aspects of the entryist campaign, but i do wonder if his own big thesis could be thrown back at him. He complains about how "horizontal" organising leaves a monopoly on effective "vertical" organising to the opposition, but you could say much the same about a willingness to engage in calculated branding and efforts to co-opt the campaigns of ones natural enemies. There are problems with simply lying thru yr teeth about yr agenda to defraud ppl into lining up behind you but there has to be a happy medium between that and unrelenting unadorned earnestness about ones political goals and motivations. In no small part bc if you aren't willing to look for it you cannot often count on yr enemies exhibiting the same chivalry in return

Would be kind of inconvenient for me personally tho given my addiction to combative forthrightness

[transfemlogan]

For the fandom ask game; 2, 10, 16

Positive Fandom Ask Game

a headcanon you weren't sure about at first but have come to like!

that janus is loveless. i will say my hesitance didn't last very long and wasn't really hesitance, it was more "oh loveless janus is a hc? i can see how people can dislike it, but i love it." (so this option doesn't really count but i quite literally cant think of anything else)

there is a headcanon that janus is loveless/cannot feel love/doesn't love because he is a snake and snakes don't feel love. and as a loveless aromantic I absolutely love this headcanon.

i know people don't like this headcanon because people tend to view love as an inherently positive force and if you don't love or refuse to love that it's negative and offensive. & because people will try to use the lack of love to demonise janus, an already very demonise side. which... the demonising janus one is a valid reason to dislike it, the other reasons aren't.

i only ever consider patton to be loveless and i never see loveless hcs in fandom so knowing there's already a hc for janus being loveless makes me so so so so happy. i think there's something so sweet about janus not feeling love or choosing not to love or being critical about how society views love, but still being compassionate & caring towards the other sides & c!thomas*. that whether or not he loves them that doesn't control how he treats them. that his care isn't controlled by one singular feeling, but a multitude of feelings or opinions; he cares for the sides & thomas, because he knows they need it. & that idea means the world to me.

*obviously, loveless people can care & be compassionate. im loveless & im so compassionate to the people around me. but i mean more that, choosing janus 2 be loveless when he is literally self preservation & cares so much about the other sides & their health is soooo smart & beautiful. i know it probably originated to demonise him (or write aus where he "thinks he loveless but finds out he CAN feel love" eugh), but i like that you can switch it on its head & go "he doesn't feel love but that doesn't mattwe & wont ever matter. he feels so much compassion for the others" & choose not to demonise him.

i probably explained that all strange & worded it so bad i just woke up. BUT LIKE. YOU CAN CHOOSE TO DEMONISE HIM FOR BEING LOVELESS, BUT YOU CAN ALSO RECOGNISE THAT IF HE IS LOVELESS THAT LOVE DOESNT PUSH HIS CARING ACTIONS. HE JUST CARES.

also janus 100% would be loveless in the sense that he's criticising how society views love as the most "important thing" or as an inherently positive thing , as if people don't do horrible things bcuz of their love.

a blog (mutual or one you follow) that has made your fandom experience brighter

UM. HOW DO I LIST A GAJILLION BLOGS.

i was gonna go thru & explain why they r on my list but thats 2 much effort so im just gonna rapid fire:

@sankiisides , @warnadudenexttime , @intrulogical , @edupunkn00b , @lovecorepatton & everyone i know on instagram. i was gonna list blogs that im not mutuals with but i am so tired & couldnt remember anyones blogs . ill just come back (<- is lying & wont come back)

the one blog i am not mutuals w/ that i can list rn is @we-all-horny-here :3

a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate

PERHAPS A REALLY SMALL DETAIL, but the way remus pauses & actually thinks about what is being said to him when logan is talking to him at the end of working through intrusive thoughts

maybe im crazy & insane & making things up bcuz i want them to be friends so bad BUT thruout the entire ending scene w/ logan & remus, remus is shown turning his back and reading a book and taking a cockroach out of his ear and eating it. very actively ignoring him.

BUT . IN THIS SCENE:

logan tells remus how he can see how remus can be helpful (albeit. thru gritted teeth.) & then asks him, "but perhaps, you can also see the merit in what I'm trying to do?"

& remus pauses.

he hesitates.

you can see him sit there and actually think about what logan is saying. & ofc he immediately goes back to ignoring him but it makes me crazed that logan tells remus that he can see why remus is doing what he is doing & that it can be helpful & then asks remus, straight forwardly, to try & see what logan is trying to do & remus stops in his little schemes and thinks about that. he has a little moment of hesitation.

though it could also be remus going "hmmm should i eat the tongue lollipop first or should i do the cockroach?" /j

im ill . im ill. im ill. im ill.

Positive Fandom Ask Game

[pooplyface1423]

~Hidden love ~

Warnings : Murder, usage of a gun

"Please al have mercy.......we won't ever say anything about this, never we promise," says one of the men gossiping bout Al the day before

"YOU three should have thought that before talking," says Al with a smug grin in his face

*(Gunshot)*

One of the three was d e a d body cold and limp instantly. That made the other two plead more and whimper, trying to save themselves from this tragic situation. But Alastor wasn't going to hear their pleads. Two more gunshots were headed to both their foreheads.

___________________________________________________________________________

"Good morning Al"

"Oh good morning to you too y/n"

After the small greeting, you both went into his host room to get things ready.But before anything else could be done, your manager came rushing in, saying that 3 staff members were missing. How? You asked

"I don't know, they won't answer, and I just came back from their houses and didn't find any of them"

"Oh my, what should we do now?" You asked with a worried expression in your face.

"Well, the broadcast will be a little late today since most of the other staff don't know how to operate the equipment correctly," says the manager

Then, after a 30-minute delay, Al finally got the green light and started the broadcast

"Good morning, everybody. It's quite the pleasure to have you allhere listening. Anyway, sorry for the small delay, and let's get started with the rest of the broadcast, " says Al as he looks over at you and gives you a warm smile, one that doesn't feel forced

"And that completes today's broadcast till tomorrow. Thank you and GoodBye "

After the broadcast ended, Al came up to you

"Hey y/n, I know we've just I known each other for less than 2 weeks, but would it bother you if I asked you out for a devine date?"

"Oh, sure! Today?"

"Yea, today I'll pick you up at 9:00"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While waiting for Al, you dressed in your beautiful red dress, so lost in the thought of going on a date.💃 . Then, a soft knock at the door got you out of your thoughts.

"Wow - you look beautiful, dear," says Al as he grabbed your arm

"Thanks, you look nice as well," you said, wrapping ur arm around Alastors.

The date was going amazing. You both talked a lot about the same things. You both liked the same things, or so you thought

After the date, which if I didn't mention it went great, he walked you to your house and when he was about to leave he kissed your forehead wishing you a good night's rest.

"Oh my, don't even think about it y/n" you thought right before kissing him in the cheek and also wishing him a careful way home and a good night's rest.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Al got home, he quickly went to the bathroom and saw the slight pink in his cheek, which was the light tint of your lipstick.

With a slight blush in his face, he washed his face before being interrupted

"Baby, what happened?" Said Al's mom as she came up from behind, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"Oh nothing, mom, I'm fine," says Al, clearly lying thru his teeth

"Oh no, I know when something is up, so tell me know before I find it out myself." Says his mom, still cupping his cheeks, but this time slightly harder

"Ouch, fine. I'll tell you, just stop holding my face so hard, " says Al after the pressure his mom was putting on him

"Talk"

"I went on a date with someone"

"Aw, my baby has a girlfriend. When will I meet the young lady who has my son wrapped around her finger? " says his mom, getting all excited

"She's not my girlfriend... yet"

"Oh well, tell me more bout her tomorrow, but for now, go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay, mom, good night," says Al, as his mom gives him a small kiss on his cheek

"Good night," says his mom, walking away

"Goodnight"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello, I finally finished pt 2. Yay! Randomly got inspiration to finish.

Anyway, I hope to finish pt 4 of the luci x reader fic soon

Tag list

@rl800

[daisiesonafield-blog]

so, deuxmoi podcast ad popped up for me on spotify today (have no idea why, i never listened before) and i saw louis' name there and was like: what now?!! asked to my friend who usually listens what was about and here's what they said if anyone wants to know:

they talked to backgrid owner, basically reinforcing how all their sights are legit and not planned lol told crazy stories to justify paps being in the strategic places, mentioned holivia, that coincidentally two paps were in sta barbara and got jeff wedding pics LMAOO - nothing about the closed private place or the drones - just talked a bunch of bs that they get these shots cause they're the best and only minor celebs hire them. commented about louis and sofie pics being on twitter before the website and said it was a hacker, probably an overprotective fan, that they reinforced security and were going to take down fan accounts. also that he got upset cause it would be a great exclusive for them 🙄 lastly they talked same bs about the O/E/H 3some, that never happened but somehow everyone and their mother knew, implied emrata was the one spilling this all around. said H and O were talking again constantly and had agreed on a open relationship for a while LMFAOOO but that didn't include make out with her friend so now O is done with H..

that's it, nothing too interesting but just to give a heads up if you start to see people talking or sending asks about it

Thanks anon.

Deuxmoi is so full of shit. All of this, ALL, sounds like absolute bullshit. They’re just lying. It’s not even funny. They fully take us as complete idiots.

And she has some nerve saying somehow everyone knows about this fake 3some, WHEN SHE’S THE ONE WHO SPREAD THE INFO AND LIT THE FIRE ABOUT THIS RUMOR FOR *MONTHS*. And then this week she was like “oh a very reliable source said it’s a lie”. But the week before she was like “a very reliable source told me it happened so I believe it”. 😒😒😒😒 THERE IS NO SOURCE. MUCH LESS A RELIABLE ONE. DEUXMOI IS JUST LYING AND SPREADING STUPID RUMORS BC SHE’S AN ASSHOLE.

Also, she has some nerve spreading Backgrid’s fake ass propaganda. It’s obvious they’re lying thru their teeth. It was scheduled. It was private property. They couldn’t have just accidentally wandered into a closed country club and gotten all of those pictures. Be serious. They take people as absolute idiots. Like????? They really think we’re actually stupid clowns 🤡

😒😒😒😒😒😒😒😒

Unrelated but I heard the backgrid part and I cannot stand deuxmoi’s voice. She sounds like the most obnoxious person in the world. And she’s so aggressive in her tone and demeanor. She’s just awful

[sillyandquiteawkward]

Ngl, Far Harbour is actually an amazing and fun DLC. It made me the most emotional i've ever been playing through a video game and I got so attached to some of the characters, and despite the writing flunks, it was a pretty solid DLC, in my opinion.

But there is one major issue I have with it, and it's that, as the player, you're SEVERELY limited in what you can do.

When I was going through, I made the decision to not tell Avery she was a synth. When I went back to do the Replace Tectus ending, I also did some quests for the people of Far Harbour to be trusted by them. There was one point where I had to talk to Avery to advance a quest, and it WOULD NOT let me advance that quest until I told her she was a synth. I tried. All the options were either to end dialogue or some varying degree of "You're a synth, Avery," until I told her and THEN it let me talk to her about the quest. I was so frustrated by it.

I also remember having to dismiss Nick at some point because my actions were just upsetting him too much when I was trying to get the Children to like me so I could get inside the Nucleus. Like, why couldn't I somehow explain to him that I was going "undercover" to help everyone out?? He's a detective, he'd understand that whatever I'm talking about is just to butter them up and that I don't actually mean anything that I'm telling them, right??

Not to mention, when you uncover stuff about DiMa, or the Children, or the people of Far Harbour, you're pretty much forced into this stringed out series of events rather than being able to intervene in certain situations. Like, why can't we intervene with DiMa's death? I understand that's their law, but we seriously aren't even given the choice to say anything, and we're forced to watch him be murdered like a bystander who hasn't been waist-deep in this situation the entire time?

(On a side note: I understand the limitations they established with the 4-option dialogue Fallout 4 has, among the limitations in potentially making this DLC more "fleshed out" than is already is, but c'mon. I felt like I was just a guard rail for a bowling ball towards a certain ending rather than being the person who threw the ball itself.)

[Also extra side note: It's been literal years since I played that DLC so there's some things I may not analyze well or misremember

i agree 100%. there was always some sort of railroading or limitation when it came to far harbor. its def not just a part of the 4 option dialogue, i think there couldve been a lot of improvements to give the player more options of actions even with the limited dialogue trees.

also on ur note, i wish we couldve pulled a bit with nick and go undercover with him. would love to see some actual sleuthing and lying thru ur teeth with nick giving you the thumbs up behind you. maybe there couldve been a part where nick pulls you aside after that and is like hey that was cool and all but you sounded really convincing. hope that aint how you really feel. and you can reassure him it was a bit, or that yeah its how you really feel, etc. make a joke (sarcasm option). i think it couldve made that part of the game a lil more fun and you wouldnt have to piss nick off bc all the companions dont understand what lying is due to game mechanics.

[waterisasoup]

intro/about me post?

i think i can do one of these now lmao

anyways hiii i’m kase i use they/any pronouns and i’m genderfluid!!!

i have continuous adhd brainrot over like a spinning wheel of things all the time. i love ajr a very normal amount (lying thru my teeth). other music interests include coldplay, fob, weezer, daisy grenade, and tswift occasionally. i crochet a lot i have some weirdass ability to know exactly how to make anything i have the idea for. i think i can technically classify myself as a tf2 fan now lmao. just a big art nerd in general yknow. i also love wall-e its my favorite movie ever i could go on about how much i love the artistic choices in both the script and the color symbolism and also the relationship between robots and humans. i also have a kase quotes list ive been keeping for about a year now of just wild things i say :)

recent crochet creations!! (will update)

the snrat. (sniper rat). this is the only photo i have of him before i gave him away but im so proud of the details for him

look at him isnt he precious anyways :)

[asahicore]

get to know me game !!!

omg i love things like these cz any opportunity to talk about myself is a good opportunity !! thx for the tag @ozymandia-s i was reading thru ur answers like it was the morning paper, i'll tag @bbujiikseu and @ethereal-engene if u guys wanna do it <33

birthday: dec 13

favourite colour: purple-ish like lavender 

do you have pets? yaaaaah i have a white cat who's evil but also really cute and a dog named elbow

how tall are you? 160-2 cm i'm not sure

how many pairs of shoes do you own? a bunch but i mostly wear my platform docs, my beige platform converse, my black regular super old and beat-up converse or my knee-high brown boots that i got at a thrift shop for such a good price

favourite song: this is like the most impossible question everrrr but invu by taeyeon was my most listened to song in 2022 and i still levitate whenever i listen to it

favourite movie: twilighttt the girls who get it get it but i have lots of movies i love

who would be your ideal partner? my 2 most important things r someone who makes me laugh but also finds me funny and someone with good communication. i dont really care about stuff like sharing hobbies or styles or whatever but as long as we can have a good time doing whatever i'm in love (my ex...)

do you want children?  yessss not now for sure but in a few years like 2 or 3 i think

have you gotten in trouble with the law? i dont think so..?

what colour socks are you wearing? rn they're black

favourite type of music: kpop... 97 of my 101 most listened to songs were girl group kpop lmaooo but just pop in general

how many pillows do you sleep with? 2 !!!

what position do you sleep in? i try to sleep on my back but being on my tummy with one leg up is so much comfier

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping: people who snore like i'm not a particularly light sleeper but it wakes me up immediately and keeps me from falling asleep

what do you have for breakfast: coffee most of the time but earl grey sometimes, i dont usually eat breakfast but if i'm feeling hungry i'll have a fruit or something. i'll also have a pastry at the uni café if i really cant wait until lunch to eat lmaoo

have you ever tried archery? i dont think i have but it looks cool

favourite fruit: lately i've been obsessed w physallis but that shit is expensiveee. otherwise i'd say mango and cherries

are you a good liar? nooo u can see it right away if i'm lying i get so tense and if i'm lying just to take the piss out of someone then i can only keep it for like 10 seconds cause 1 i start laughing and 2 i feel bad for making someone believe something untrue lmaoo

what’s your personality type? enfp i think?

innie or outie? (it really depends on my mood but i'm usually an outie i think, i just need a day in the week to really relax on my own) i’ve been informed this is about the belly button… well it’s innie then… why do u wanna know that about me tho

left handed or right handed? right handed. left handed ppl freak me out...

favourite food: it is so impossible to choose a fav meal but i'll say tiramisu cz its my fav dessert

favourite foreign food: sushi ig

am i clean or messy? i'd say clean

most used phrase:  i have no idea probably whatever stupid phrase i've coined as mine for the week

how long does it take for you to get ready: not too long cause in the morning i basically just make my bed, wash my face, brush my teeth, get dressed and do my makeup.. but if i decide to have coffee at home or to read before leaving then it can take a while

do you talk to yourself? all the damn time bro i was actually tripping over the fact that you can hear a voice in your head without actually speaking just the other day i think its so weird but im thankful for my inner monologue.. shes a queen

do you sing to yourself? if theres music i'll sing along but i dont usually just sing out loud randomly

are you a good singer?  no lmaooooo but i love singing badly and my friends and i go to karaoke every week which is super fun

biggest fear? this is weird but my legs being wobbly like not havign control over them, so like when you're on those inflatable games or when the ground is slippery.. hate that

are you a gossip? yes lmaooo but only when theres reason to be

do you like long or short hair? ive been growing out my hair and its slayinngggggg but on other ppl idc

favourite school subject: i think french (not as a second language but as a french person studying french at a french school lmao) and english lit

extrovert or introvert: extrovert, like im sociable but also if you're a strange man dont talk to me

what makes you nervous: university deadlines also the amount of books in the world i'll never be able to read </3

who was your first real crush? i think when in like 4th grade i had a crush on this guy named matt, but ive had plennnttyyyy of crushes since then

how many piercings? eight and they're all on my ears !

how many tattoos? 0 but im debating getting one

how fast can you run? not fast lmaoo

what colour is your hair? dark brown

what colour are your eyes? dark brown

what makes you angry: misogyny <3 i had to watch this video of a debate between pro-choicers and pro-lifers.. i was gonna explode listening to the pro-lifers' arguments they're so fucking stupid man

do you like your name? its very unoriginal lol but i dont mind it, also my middle name is my grandma's which is genevieve and i think it slays

do you want a boy or a girl as a child? one of both tbh

what are your strengths? hmmm i think i'm fairly reasonable? like when i have an outburst (and i have a lot of those) after some time i'm able to calm myself down and reason with myself so usually im able to stay somewhat level-headed lol i also don't wallow, i get back on my feet pretty quickly and my friends have told me i'm generous :)

what are your weaknesses? this might sound like the opposite of what i just said lmaoo but i overthink too damn much and i jsut cry all the time like everything pains me but then at the same time im able to get out of that mindset quickly.. so idk bruh

what is the colour of your bedspread? i have like 3 houses but the one i currently am at is my uni dorm and the bedspreads are either white and grey or green/blue/pink and they're both floral patterns

colour of your room: at my moms and here they're white but at my dads they're a light greyish brown

this was fun and took me forever lmaooo good way of procrastinating tbh

[seiwas]

ari!!!! this was soooo adorable 🥺 megs was sooo cute 🥺

ohmgewash ari you already know that what i love most about your writing is your ability to paint a scene, to describe everything!

your words are always so rich and vivid, sometimes i feel like i'm reading through a dictionary 😭 or a thesaurus... (i think a thesaurus is more fitting 😭)

apart from that though, i thoroughly enjoyed how you characterised megumi here 🥺 he's so pookie so cutie so nervy 🥺 and the dialogue you used to convey that too!!! omg it's so megumi ��

he’s got his usual mug on standby, a cute little black dog etched into the ceramic; maybe a little worried, like a protective mother wolf towards her cub. <- i love how we just all agree that megumi is so dog boy to the point that he has dog patterned things 😭

the boy behind the counter looks angelic. <- he rlly is. so pretty. UGH

gentle, in the way he turns the pages, awfully delicate, keeping them still between his thumb and forefinger <- i LOVE that you highlighted this because i agree!!!¹

maybe a tad gruff, but you sense an acute gentleness to it. something tender, kind of; one of the rings on his fingers knock against the ceramic, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. <- i like how you conveyed how kinda grumpy he is!! bc he rlly is 😭 unless he tells me otherwise, i'd fr think he hates me 😭 you're also so good at zooming in on the microactions!! it's so vivid and paints such a picture!!!

he’s maybe just a little bit too pretty for words. smooth, pale skin, a sharp jaw and defined cheekbones, dark eyes that hide a subtle kind of softness. pierced ears, a glimmer of silver on his earlobes, same as the rings on his bony fingers. <- and YES omg. i LOVE the way you describe his physical features. it's such a big part for me when it comes to megs fics

when he moves his hand a certain way, his big sweater sleeve rides up just a tiny bit, showing off the blue veins of his inner wrist. you think you catch a glimpse of a mole or two on his pale skin, and you swallow down a gulp, feeling a little like a victorian man seeing a girl’s ankle. <- I LAUGHED SO HARD AT THIS TOO OMG BC SO REAL 😭 borderline SCANDALOUS i'd say.

he wets his lips, in what you immediately recognize as nervosity — absentmindedly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers; but he’s not meeting your gaze. if you look closely, you think you see a slight flush to his neck, red like a candy cane.  <- MY GOD he's so cute for this 😭² (peep the candy cane theme too!! i love that!!)

”you can borrow it... if you want to, i mean.”; "yeah. we can... talk. about it. once you've read it. if you want."; ”megumi, my name, i work here.” <- ari that is SO him pls 😭😭 the pauses!! my god²

and OMG idk if it's just me but a part of me wonders if when he says "my sister," to clarify is bc he doesn't want reader to get the wrong impression/think the wrong thing 😭

he mostly just sounds like an awfully caring person trying awfully hard to appear uncaring <- EXACTLY

he smooths a hand over his face, skin just a little sweaty. chewing at his bottom lip with two sharp teeth. <- omg pls the way he's lying thru his TEETH LOL no wonder he was so nervous 😭😭

he’s always had a sense of it, though — a sense of goodness. an ability to seek them out, those good people, bubbly and cheerful and so tragically hard not to love. <- and thiS TOO!!! i think it's one of the sweetest parts of him 🥺 i feel like he resists the very thing he attracts (but he attracts them for a reason!! and it's bc!! these are the people good for him yknow?)

i think he'd be so gentle with handling things too—mostly bc he'd be too afraid of breaking anything. megumi strikes me so much as a guy who has his things lasting years bc of well he takes care of them. would only switch out his phone every 5-6 years or smth and even then the phone's performance is still pretty ok considering how long he's had it.

megumi is such a 'i'd rather die than embarrass myself by saying how i feel' kind of boy 😭 and that puts him in a lot of situations where he holds himself back on certain things 😭 but it's soooo obvious on him!! the flush of his cheeks!! neck!! ears!! everything!! and the awkwardness!! in his pauses!! when he speaks!!!

as per usual!! i will be citing some of my fave lines 🥺 i a kind of liveblogging of my thoughts as i was reading!!!

— his eyes meet yours, and you visibly stiffen; you’re almost certain hearts aren’t supposed to flail the way yours is right now. <- literally felt this omg jhsdbfs i wouldn't know what to do with myself either

silently passing each other by, in a quiet bookstore that feels a little like heaven on earth <- i LOVE this line!!!

it’s just him, and cozy christmas music, and a pitter patter rhythm of your heartbeat that sounds a little like jingle bells to your muddled mind. <- i love the winter theme going through it too!!! your descriptions in the entire fic were so consistently thematic!!! genius!!!

again, that sweet dichotomy; a hint of something gruff, hiding an unmistakable softness. a little like snow. cold to the touch, enough to make you want to stay away, but then it melts on the skin of your palm. turns soft and warm beneath your touch. <- this line is so smart to me too!!!! the usage of slow as a symbolism!! aaaah i am kicking my feet ari!!

another amazing piece by you ari!! sort of like a captured moment!! meant to be tucked away safely!! 🥺 the kind you write in journals, yknow?

the green in your eyes (makes me feel warm inside) ; megumi fushiguro

synopsis; in the comfort of a familiar bookstore, you find a boy. a pretty boy, who’s always reading, who doesn’t speak unless he has to. you’d like to get to know him — and maybe you will.

word count; 4.6k

contents; megumi fushiguro/reader, gn!reader, fluffy!!, lots of pining from afar, bookstore au, no curses au, reader is an overworked student bc uni is beating my ass, gumi is kind of awkward but hes cute <3, gojo mentioned twice (stay safe), can u tell im excited for christmas … :'3

a/n; bookstore employee gumi who hates every single customer except for you is so real to me

(@riaki its here …🙇‍♂️)

he’s there again. 

with a decisive step forward, you drag the door open, and the flutter of a bell resounds throughout the bookstore. a precious little jingle, alerting him of your presence. 

the boy at the counter gives you a glance. his navy eyes settle on your bundled up figure, and a flicker of familiarity blooms in the scope of his iris, a kind of recognition. something that makes your heart feel like a clumped up little ball of snow. 

(oh. it’s you.

you can almost hear the silent words fall past his lips.)

it only lasts for a second, barely even that, your gazes overlapping — then he’s back to reading. 

today, you recognize the book in his hands. the hardcover looks just a tiny bit worn, but still well taken care of. well-loved. and it’s a pretty rendition; a butterfly just above the title, snakes crawling on either side, vines stretching out across the scope of the image. there’s a kind of mystique to it. pretty.

wuthering heights, you read off the cover.

a little odd, in hindsight. you’ve only ever seen him read nonfiction. maybe he decided to broaden his horizons?

after a brief moment’s contemplation, your feet begin to move. taking another small step forward, inching closer, while the door falls shut behind you. blocking out the snowfall and colourful lights illuminating the street. 

mitten-clad hands go to brush stray snowflakes off your shoulders, as you shift from foot to foot, halfheartedly attempting to warm up your numbed toes. wallowing in the atmosphere of the cozy little bookstore; breathing in the smell of peppermint, the hint of freshly brewed coffee. from the boy, you assume — he’s got his usual mug on standby, a cute little black dog etched into the ceramic. steam rises from it, floating up into the air, and a fragrance of espresso wafts throughout the store.

low christmas music plays from the speakers, barely audible. pleasing to your sensitive ears and tired mind. it’s the usual mix of well-loved songs, for the most part, but then some you haven’t heard before. you can only assume he picked them out himself; pretty instrumentals, or low, gravelly voices, adding to that particular atmosphere simmering around you. nostalgic, a little melancholic.

the boy behind the counter looks angelic. 

he always does, when he’s reading — and he usually is. gentle, in the way he turns the pages, awfully delicate, keeping them still between his thumb and forefinger. lips pursed, brows just a tiny bit furrowed. concentrated, immersed. dark eyes trailing over the tiny letters, scanning the ink of the paper, twisting the syllables inside his mind. almost tasting them on his tongue, with the way he wets his lips. they look a little chapped.

for some reason, the sight seems to render you sort of speechless. frozen. like he’s a pretty bluebird seated on your windowsill, chirping softly in the wake of morning, and you’re afraid of scaring him away.

— his eyes meet yours, and you visibly stiffen.

it’s smooth, the motion of his hands. how swiftly he flicks the book shut, placing it face down on the counter with a twitch of his lithe fingers. not before slipping a pretty bookmark in between the pages, lilac-coloured, with flowers embroidered into the silky texture. you wonder if he made it himself. 

his voice spills out into the air, a little raspy. deep, but velvety, sending shivers down your spine. he clears his throat, and you watch his adam’s apple bob. ”do you need anything?”

a second passes. 

it catches you off guard, the mellow sound of his voice. when you’re so unaccustomed to hearing it. excluding the brief words you’ve exchanged paying for your novels, you’ve only heard it a select few times — mostly from afar, not-so-sneakily listening in on his conversations with the pink haired boy and pretty girl who sometimes come in and never look at any of the books. 

(there’s the tall guy with the not-so-seasonal sunglasses, too. but when he enters the store, all you pick up on are usually grumbles and threatening hand gestures.)

but now, that low, low voice is directed at you. 

it can’t be good for your physical health. or mental, for that matter. you’re not sure you remember to properly breathe, and you’re almost certain hearts aren’t supposed to flail the way yours is right now. 

when the boy behind the counter tilts his head, just by a hair, you’re finally snapped out of your little trance. stumbling for something to say, stuttering out a response, your hands grip at the insides of your pockets.

”well, um — i’m looking for a book.”

a moment passes. the song coming from the speakers changes into an instrumental, kind of jazzy. it’s nice.

”… a specific book,” you elaborate, under your breath. gnawing at your bottom lip, feeling a bit of heat on your ears. clearing your throat, as you step forward, tearing your mittens off with your teeth.

searching for a certain image, your numbed fingertips begin to tap at the cold screen of your phone. the warm air of the bookstore envelops your chilled knuckles, and a shiver runs through them.

the boy watches, silently, as you get closer. 

you don’t notice him glancing at your reddened hands, and when you look up to see a glimmer of something displeased in his eyes, you only assume it’s because you’re taking too long. speeding up slightly, you hear a low click of his tongue. his back straightens.

when he gets up from his chair, you notice that he's tall. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him do anything but sit behind the counter with a book in hand, either reading his own or scanning a customer’s. 

and, upon closer inspection — he’s maybe just a little bit too pretty for words. smooth, pale skin, a sharp jaw and defined cheekbones, dark eyes that hide a subtle kind of softness. pierced ears, a glimmer of silver on his earlobes, same as the rings on his bony fingers. his nails are painted black, a little chipped. and he’s wearing a big, bright green christmas sweater; one you really can’t imagine him picking out on his own, if his previous all-black turtlenecks and gray sweaters are anything to go by. 

while you fumble with the phone in your grasp, the pads of his fingers go to silently tap at the edge of the counter. a rhythmic motion; forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over again.

it’s a little bit distracting. when he moves his hand a certain way, his big sweater sleeve rides up just a tiny bit, showing off the blue veins of his inner wrist. you think you catch a glimpse of a mole or two on his pale skin, and you swallow down a gulp, feeling a little like a victorian man seeing a girl’s ankle.

and then finally, you locate the image in question. swiftly showing him the cover of the book you were assigned to read. he squints a little, blinking drowsily, a flutter of his pretty eyelashes that has your heart skipping a beat. 

you clear your throat.

”i’m supposed to read it before christmas break, but i couldn’t find it at our library…” you tilt your head, a little sheepish. ”do you have it here?”

he stares at the screen for just a second more. then he’s angling his head to the left, finger pointing towards a corner of the store. ”it should be over there,” he hums. monotone.

a tentative smile forms on your lips. you thank him, and his eyes find yours.

all he does is shake his head, softly, brushing you off — a silent don’t worry about it. maybe a tad gruff, but you sense an acute gentleness to it. something tender, kind of. or maybe you’d just like to believe the kindness you sense in his eyes is real, more than just a delusion. 

but you don’t have time to dwell on it. the boy behind the counter goes back to reading, cradling the spine with his pretty hands. when he tries to grab the handle of his mug, one of the rings on his fingers knock against the ceramic, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

you go to hunt down your own book, still thinking about his voice, how it trickled like honey from out his lips. 

the bookstore is entirely empty, tonight. no loud noises drilling into your groggy brain, no people to chatter amongst themselves and disrupt the illusion of peace you gain when you spend time here. a tiny respite, from your studies, from the stress and fatigue that you’ve come to associate with winter. hunting for christmas gifts, finishing late assignments, trudging through the snow. pretending that you have it all together.

but here, none of that matters. 

a sense of calm washes over you, as your eyes trail over the books by the science fiction section, and a soft sigh tumbles from your throat. gradually, your hands begin to warm up, and you look out the window.

outside, the world is blanketed by a veil of snow and frost, pure whites and murky grays as far as the eye can see. falling down to earth, smothering everything in a bitter chill. a cold, cold embrace. but when looking at it like this, from inside a cozy bookstore, with a pretty boy by the counter…

it's a breathtaking sight. 

little snowflakes descending, dancing in the wind. desaturating your world. if you close your eyes and focus, you think you can almost feel the wind nip at your fingertips, almost taste the fragrance of dried tea leaves and caramel fudge from the tiny shop across the street. almost bask in the green and red of the decorative lights in the skeletal trees, illuminating the city, buzzing with artificial warmth.

(your heart feels light.)

it doesn’t take long for you to find the book you need. keeping it safe and warm between your arm and torso, you walk back to the counter, gaze still lingering on the windowpane. the little snowflakes fluttering about, the glimpses you catch of passerby and their knit scarves in the darkness of the winter evening.

the boy behind the counter is as efficient as ever. he takes the book, fingertips resting exactly where yours just were, and scans it in a matter of seconds. you pay, and he puts it in a plastic bag, handing it to you — all while his copy of wuthering heights sits on the counter, pointedly, as if beckoning you to mention it.

before you can think to stop yourself, you’ve parted your lips. 

”is it good?” you ask. finger pointing at his book.

the boy blinks. eyelashes fluttering. once, then twice. he seems a little caught off guard, but still speaks within a split second. almost like he doesn’t even think about the answer. ”yeah.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. you shift a little, from foot to foot, plastic bag in hand. ”i’ve been meaning to read it,” you say, desperate to prolong the conversation, ”but i haven't had much time lately.”

a chuckle slips from your lips. it comes out sounding just a little exhausted. 

(he glances at the dark bags beneath your eyes, but you don’t notice.)

”i think i might buy it in time for christmas break, though…” you lift your gaze to meet his own. showing the briefest glimpse of a smile, polite. 

he doesn’t return it. lips pursed, silent, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. a navy blue, little splotches of a murky green blooming in the corners of his iris. they only appear when you’re this close. soothing, somehow. they’re pretty.

he isn’t saying anything, not a single word, and some part of your heart clogs up like a clump of wet snow. subconsciously, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, digging into the soft flesh before letting go. cowering a little under his intense gaze.

did you annoy him? 

(he probably doesn’t want to talk to you. maybe he thinks you’re hitting on him, or something. are you hitting on him? that doesn’t matter. he must be stressed — it’s holiday season, after all. the last thing he needs is some annoying customer taking up his precious reading time. 

gosh, what were you even thinking?)

you’re just about to excuse yourself, mentally berating yourself for forcibly striking up a conversation with an obvious introvert — 

when the sound of something sliding against wooden material catches your attention.

you blink.

the boy behind the counter does a little cough. under his breath, clearing his throat. he wets his lips, in what you immediately recognize as nervosity — absentmindedly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. 

”here.”

when you look down, a certain book is placed on the edge of the counter, right in front of you. wuthering heights.

another blink. you look down at the hardcover, and then back up at him, but he’s not meeting your gaze. if you look closely, you think you see a slight flush to his neck, red like a candy cane. 

”you can borrow it,” he says. a pause. then he continues, clearing his throat again, a hint of hesitance in his raspy voice. ”… if you want to, i mean.”

”… ah.” is all you can answer. barely a word, more of a weak little hum. an absent tremble of your voice.

outside the comfort and warmth of the bookstore, the wind whistles, digging its claws into the city. tiny whirlwinds of snowflakes dance from street to street, fluttering about joyously. you vaguely pick up on the song from the speakers changing, into a poppy christmas-themed kpop song.

a moment passes.

your muddled mind finally reacts. on instinct, sending little instructions to your frozen limbs. to your heart, face down on the floor, completely useless.

”oh — no, there’s no need!” you blurt out, putting your hands up hastily. waving him off. ”it’s fine, i can just buy my own copy!” 

but the boy only clicks his tongue, with that signature furrow of his brows. ”you’re a student,” he states, just a little gruff. but then there’s that kindness. ”you shouldn’t waste your money.”

you’re just about to protest, when he continues. ”besides,” he sighs. ”i’ve already read it. you can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

and again, your instinctual desire is to protest. unsure of what to say, somehow exasperated by his trust. that’s what it is, isn’t it? trust. trusting a stranger, a customer he’s barely even spoken to, not to just take his book and then never return. trusting you to be a decent person. a good person.

isn’t that naive?

something sprouts like a snowdrop in a ridge between your ribs, though, and you know that it’s happiness of some kind. you’re glad, that he has something even vaguely similar to trust in you. 

glad that he’s acknowledging you, in a way. your presence, the sneaky glances shared between you. the comfortable feeling that sleeps inside your veins when it's just you and him, silently passing each other by, in a quiet bookstore that feels a little like heaven on earth. a safe haven, of sorts, with no incompetent professors, tight deadlines or numb fingers.

it’s just him, and cozy christmas music, and a pitter patter rhythm of your heartbeat that sounds a little like jingle bells to your muddled mind.

a lump forms in the back of your throat. you gulp it back down, and part your lips. an unsure question spills into the open air. 

”are… you really sure?”

”yeah.” he doesn’t even skip a beat. fingers tapping at the edge of the counter, over and over again. another slow moment passes. ”we can… talk. about it.” he coughs into his closed fist. ”once you've read it.” 

with a soft furrow of his brows, he averts his gaze. his voice comes out sounding soft, albeit a little rough around the edges. ”if you want,” he adds.

you’re so distracted by the flutter of his long eyelashes that you barely even feel your lips stretch into a smile. your hearts skips around happily within the confines of your ribcage, and you’re worried that you might look a little too excited — but how could you ever hide your joy, when he’s acting so dangerously, uncharacteristically cute?

”yeah!” you blurt, teeth peeking out when you flash him a bright smile. and finally, he meets your gaze. pretty eyes fixed entirely on you.

at your evident enthusiasm, his shoulders seem to relax. the rapid tapping of his fingers ceases, and he opts to simply bite down on his lip — attempting to obscure his own smile. but you see it, anyway; a tiny, tiny smile. the softest little curl of his lips. you’re entirely mesmerized, all the same. 

a hand goes to rub at the back of his neck, and he does that cute little cough again, and you wonder if the warmth sprouting in your chest will be enough to protect you from the snowfall on your way back home.

angelic; that’s the impression he always seems to leave you with. you wonder if he has any idea just how pretty he is. if he has the slightest clue. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to tell him, yourself.

you wonder if you’ll get to know him, someday. if you’ll ever get to know the pretty, quiet boy behind the counter of your go-to bookstore, who radiates a softness so palpable you wish you could stay there until spring blooms beyond the windows and melts the frosted glass. 

with tentative hands, a little shaky — not from the cold, but the anxious and excited tingle of your bloodstream — you reach for the book on the counter. taking it into your arms, cradling it gently, like it’s so fragile the pages could scatter away if you aren’t careful. with a steady hand on its spine, you begin to flip through the pages, until three little words on the first blank page catch your attention. 

without thinking, you repeat the little scribbled down sentence under your breath. hoping for something. more lulls of his voice, maybe, mumbling to yourself but hoping he’ll hear.

”happy birthday, tsumiki…”

the boy stiffens. 

a silent beat. then he clears his throat. ”my sister,” he explains, and you hum.

so he has a sister. a tiny fragment of his existence, now known to you, a little piece of trivia. you want to collect them, want to put them all in your pockets and carry them around, like little precious bells. 

”megumi,” he blurts out, sudden, and you look up from the book to meet his gaze. ”my name,” he elaborates. and then a pause. ”i work here.”

…

in a matter of seconds, his face reddens. ears and neck slathered over with that sweet cherry hue, blooming across his pale skin. a soft giggle slips from your lips, before you can think to bite it back, and that red hue exacerbates. 

”mm,” you hum, an amused smile on your face. eyes crinkling as you look at him, book safe and secure in your arms. ”i've seen you.”

megumi looks a bit like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. squirming slightly, shifting from foot to foot, tugging a little at the sleeve of his sweater. looking into your eyes, and then back at the counter.

it’s sweet. it makes you feel closer to him, somehow. like you aren’t the only nervous one here. like you aren’t the only person in this city who’s a little bit of a mess. 

(it makes the sludge piling up inside your brain feel just a little more bearable.)

”… thank you.” you smile. ”i’ll take good care of it. and i’ll bring it right back when i finish it.”

a low hum. megumi brings a hand up to fix his bangs, nimble fingers running through dark locks. absentminded — a nervous habit, maybe? ”don’t worry about it,” is all he says. 

again, that sweet dichotomy; a hint of something gruff, hiding an unmistakable softness. a little like snow. cold to the touch, enough to make you want to stay away, but then it melts on the skin of your palm. turns soft and warm beneath your touch.

unable to fully hide the smile still lingering on your lips, you allow yourself one final inhale — letting that scent of peppermint and espresso invade your mind, soothing every frazzled nerve inside your brain. then you put wuthering heights in your bag, protected and snug, and get ready to leave. 

it’s still snowing. if anything, it seems to have gotten worse, enough that all you see when you glance towards the frosted windows are little clumps of snowflakes. obscuring everything else.

just when you’re about to speak, say a little goodbye, a voice spills out into the air.

”… the snow’s supposed to get worse. apparently.”

his navy eyes carry a gentle hue, as they look into yours. maybe a little worried, like a protective mother wolf towards her cub. you blink, and megumi sees it as his cue to continue.

”you can stay until it gets better.” 

a brief pause. his signature cough reaches your ears, and it’s enough to have you smiling, even before he adds a tiny if you feel like it. nonchalant, or at least you think that’s what he’s going for. he mostly just sounds like an awfully caring person trying awfully hard to appear uncaring.

and again, a little smile slips itself into the curl of your lips. all giddy and nervous, a little flustered. but happy. now you won’t have to walk through the relentless snowfall outside, feel the wind chew at your reddened cheekbones. now you can spend just a bit more time with him, bask in those quiet, drawn out moments of pure peace, browsing through books while he sits and reads behind the counter.

”thanks,” you breathe. adjusting your knitted scarf. ”i think i'll look at the books a little more, then.”

megumi’s eyes soften. relieved, you think. hope. it’s a subtle shift, but still enough to notice, enough to see. little splotches of a mossy green sinking into that sea of ink blue.

you think he must feel a little embarrassed, though. like he’s gotten too close to broaching the line he’s set up between the two of you. because he quickly fixes his gaze entirely on a book in his hands, a new one — was it just waiting beneath the counter? 

you don't think much of it, but you note that he's back to his usual nonfiction. something on astronomy, you think.

and with one final glance at his tousled hair, you begin to stroll through the store. languidly, walking to whatever spine captures your attention. savouring the tiny words on the back of the books, wallowing in the peppermint and espresso that wafts through the air, only growing heavier while you’re busy admiring the white opaque frosting of the windows’ glass. 

at some point, the low whirring of a coffee machine buzzes from afar, and when you turn to the counter megumi isn’t there. 

a little later, when he comes back, he’ll be carrying two mugs — matching dogs etched into the ceramic, one black and one white. he’ll put one of them on the edge of the counter, closest to you, and then meet your eyes. give a vague nod towards it, but nothing else. you’ll notice the red tint to his ears, though.

and when you do, a warmth will blossom in your chest, enough to chase away the phantom ache of the winter chill soon to envelop you.

when the little bell of the bookstore jingles its jolly tune, and the door shuts itself as you cross the threshold to leave, megumi lets out a barely audible sigh.

he thinks his heart may be beating just a smidge faster than usual, a little out of rhythm. palms against the counter, he allows his eyes to flutter shut — trying not to acknowledge the heat he feels on his face when he finally begins to process your interaction. 

he smooths a hand over his face, skin just a little sweaty. chewing at his bottom lip with two sharp teeth.

god.

really, it was no more than a stupid twist of luck. that you happened to come in just when he started reading it, that you noticed and didn’t question him on any of the contents. that you believed him when he said he’d already finished it.

and, sure, maybe he was secretly really hoping you’d come in. really hoping you’d notice it, that it’d be enough to make you strike up a conversation with him, something, anything. 

he happened to see you eyeing it once, that’s all. twice, and then thrice, each on different occasions. tsumiki’s old collection came in handy, rotting on the dusty shelves of her room — although he has no memory of her ever reading it.

(he remembers some, though. remembers her reading a few of them to him, on nights he couldn’t sleep. remembers the soft lull of her voice, how the whole world seemed blanketed by a wool of safety.

he wonders if he’ll ever get to hear it again.)

megumi’s heart feels warm. despite everything. 

even though he didn’t even get past the first half of wuthering heights, and has no idea what the hell he’s going to be able to talk to you about. even though he thinks heathcliff is a dick and catherine is a brat, and wishes they could save everyone else the trouble and just talk to a psychiatrist.

even with the cold baring its fangs outside, and the cup of espresso sitting right in front of him, still untouched, made with the store’s shitty coffee machine. even in the ugly sweater gojo forced him into. even though he doesn’t even really know you, not even at all, and still somehow feels certain that you’ll come back with tsumiki’s book in tow.

trust. 

megumi thinks it’s a little weird, how just that single overlapping of your gazes when you first stepped in seemed to solidify such an abstract notion. he’s always had a sense of it, though — a sense of goodness. an ability to seek them out, those good people, bubbly and cheerful and so tragically hard not to love. 

no matter where he goes, he ends up finding them. like tiny sunflower seeds persisting beneath the winter snow. blooming when spring comes around, in a burst of golden vermillion.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, megumi allows himself to wallow in the solitude of the bookstore. tired eyes soaking up the words on the pages he flips through, slowly, utterly at ease. drinking his shitty coffee, trying to ignore the itchy feeling of the sweater on his skin, unable to forget the memory of your stupidly pretty smile. 

so pretty he thinks it might just keep him warm, all throughout winter, until you return once more. bringing with you the glimmer of snowflakes on soft skin, and a pleasant fragrance of tea leaves from the cozy shop across the street.

a single sunflower, persisting even through the cold. 

megumi smiles. a tiny curl of his chapped lips, while he flips the pages of his book. content in the knowledge that this won’t be the last time he speaks to you.

(now he just needs to read up on some good papers on wuthering heights.)

[pwblogarchive]

February 2008

February 3, 2008

“Try lying for a change, it's the currency of the world.”

its oddly haunting the way that sometimes entries from a year ago can reflect perfectly how i feel today.

its like an echo sent out over the weeks and months and pages of the calendar.

not always but sometimes.

a few weeks ago i considered mentioning the fact that while i once wrote "every new years is worse than the last" i didnt feel that way anymore

oh eight had broken the january curse

now im glad i didnt

cuz i realized it might not have

it may have just pushed it back a month

or extended it, depending on how this all looks on play-back

i find it a bit odd to be waiting for retrospect

Posted by xoat 10:41 PM

February 12, 2008

“honestly, afraid. i cant ever sleep either.”

Put the the planets in swing

Make jupiter sing

The afternoon light

Ignites

The back of my head

Spend years trying to cloud our head and not feel a thing

Just to turn around and erase the clouds so we can remember everything

Throw handcuffs on that boy

When the check comes he never pays

His cheekbones carve my moods

He shakes like a leaf

He's clicking like an old answering machine

He howls at the moon

He's breathes wet thru insect eyes

Canyon lights at night chase away the boring days

And I don't worry about death because I've seen the date I'm gonna die and its so far away.

Posted by xoat 1:55 AM

February 16, 2008

“part two (i forget so much of what i write its beginning to scare me).”

hes a lonely planet

dont stir and wake

everythings ok

give or take

the cats got the canary spinning in its ribcage

did i mention i came dressed for the intervention

(and if you were dying soon would you try to find snow in the deep summer

the june bugs dancing in wonder

and i still wonder now

if my words will stil turn you inside out)

hes a honeyjar

with that pretty face, lets never lose the lid

and keep those rosey lips in

(he breathes wet through insect eyes)

in multiples of four, no less than sixteen

sandmans been showing his beam

when he walks into a room the walls lean in to listen

keep a calendar this way youll know the last time you came through

oh.

"i know what youre going through"

well i dont- its more of a "paper or plastic" grocery store choice to me

but ill sympathize with anything to get through to you

do you know what its like to watch reruns of yourself night after night

to offer nothing and expect everything in return

to cock your head just right to appear arrogantly humble

if we hurry well make the morning edition

cos everybody likes to read the bad news

theyve tapped the phone be very careful what you say

speak in code about singing birds and sleepy eyed women

his heads a junkyard for rusted midnight thoughts

hes criminally carefree

when the pills swallow the worry

hes digging like forty nine

hes making you press rewind

hes a thunderstorm so bright you shut your eyes

he is a hurricane

Posted by xoat 3:15 AM

February 18, 2008

“mc hammer and miss piggy bank”

i get bright ideas in dark rooms

red rooster combs on our head

we are galaxies

a catipillar that got stuck

mr moth come quick with any luck

long walk in a dark house

a roman candle heart

keep us far apart

tour is just thinking you have been in every hotel, club or truck stop before.

it is deja vu personified.

all full of love so much that my teeth are floating.

February 19, 2008

“the oxidation of Joan of Arc.”

the mind drinks less and less.

impatience.

highways full of crowds going somewhere, somewhere, somewhere, nowhere.

The gasoline refugee.

Towns turn into motels,

people in nomadic surges from place to place,

following the moon tides,

living tonight in the room where you slept this noon and I the night before.

Posted by xoat 12:31 AM

[alola03]

If you ask me “hey do you ship x with y/anyone?” and I say “oh…no I don't really ship them with anyone” I am either telling you the complete truth or I am lying thru my teeth (<- shipping herself with them)