#(its both ... dream logic)

[racetrackmybeloved]

i adore how quick the boys are to help crutchie when he needs it. no discussion, no pity, just support.

when morris pushes him over, it isn't jack (who is right there) who helps him up, neither is it race nor romeo, who we saw him interact with earlier in the song. it's albert who helps him up, and it's albert who carries him until he gets his crutch back. did they have a system? was it albert's job to carry crutchie when needed? was it because they're close friends, and we just never get to see it again? or was it that any of the newsies would have done it, but albert happened to be the closest?

when the nuns hand out food, kid blink and smalls don't hesitate before hoisting him onto their shoulders. jack and specs both place their hands on his back to ensure that he doesn't fall backwards. it's so smooth, so natural, like they've done it a million times before.

and note: i don't think crutchie interacts with any of those characters (albert, kid blink, smalls) at any other moment in the musical.

conclusion: crutchie is so so loved.

[ipadnotesdotcom]

dream sequence. ipad notes app.

[boygirlctommy]

btw i will never be over how tommy kept his compass locked in his enderchest at all times, and tubbo never took his out of his offhand

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

What if I was insane again about the first thing Alpha Grim Sonic hearing when Nine creates him is his purpose—that he is Nine's friend?

Friendship as a concept in Prime is handled interestingly among its main characters. As Sonic (who thinks he knows a lot about friendship) comes to deepen his understanding of what it means to have a home/be home, I think it's safe to say his definition of friendship develops along with it. Compare this to Nine, who's learned everything he knows about "friendship" and personal relationships in general through his relationship with Sonic (at least, after his childhood of bullying).

So of course I think about Nine, who never wants to be hurt again, yet can no longer bear feeling alone (not after feeling that sense of companionship and belonging with someone else), which results in him creating a warped version of friendship for himself (one where he is surrounded by people, but people who only do whatever he wants, who have no opinions and thoughts of their own, who can't backstab him). And so I think about Alpha Grim Sonic, who is the very first robot Nine creates under this idea of frienship and companionship.

Nine is his master, and Alpha Grim Sonic is his protector, his bodyguard, his weapon

But he's also his friend.

Alpha Grim Sonic doesn’t talk back (can't even if he wanted to), but his purpose has always been clear to him: be Nine's friend. That's what he was created to be.

So I imagine Alpha Grim Sonic performing his purpose to the T at first under Nine's framework. He's Nine's friend, so he does whatever Nine commands, he never talks back or challenges authority, he protects Nine at all cost. And then, perhaps unbeknownst to Nine, he begins to shift ever so gradually. Sure, he's never insubordinate, he never offers up opinions, he still can't speak, but the lines of devotion begin to blur.

Is it in his code? Is out of a real sense of feeling?

Alpha Grim Sonic does not understand friendship, no matter whether it believes it does or not. But it's ironic to me if, despite being created under Nine's warped idea of it, the robot slowly grows their own soul, witnesses other displays of frienship and care, and drifts outside the bounds of that idea (a carefully crafted painting begins to leak out of its frame, expanding the masterpiece). They protect Nine, they do only what he commands, and yet they hate to see Nine in pain, they wish to bring Nine comfort (and so it feels good to him when Nine commands him to do such things that might bring his master comfort).

Does this make any sense? To believe that friendship means to hold one person on a pedestal, to protect them, to only listen to them, to never talk back, to never have opinions, and yet, despite believing what your creator tells you of friendship with them (your very purpose in this existence), to slowly fall further into those feelings that true care and love for another person brings, to wish to comfort someone the way one might describe a true friend would, despite not realizing any of this.

[zevrans-remade]

💀

[some-random-fandom-chick]

.

[mononijikayu]

amnesia — ryomen sukuna.

“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.” You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: sfw, fluff, angst, romance, hurt/ comfort, post - break up, amnesia, hurt, physical touch, memory loss, sadness, pain, pining, slowly getting back together, light-hearted, happy ending, getting back together, depictions of amnesia, depiction of pining, mention of grief, mention of accident, mention of pining, ex-boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! ex-girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 9.9k words

NOTE: the entire chapter is a sequel to drunk tonight and is set five years later. sukuna won second place at the poll again and i feel like this is my apology for sukuna for always making him an angst main lead. this was inspired by a filipino film called amnesia girl and its a funny drama-romcom. its available on youtube, but i dont know if there's subtitles!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy this and i hope you know how much i love yall 🫶🫶🫶

ADDENDUM: so......so long sukuna??? (manga readers iykyk)

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 1000;

if you want to, tip!

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HE LIKED TO THINK HE COUNTED THE HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN WELL. Five long and painful years ago, you and Sukuna parted ways in what felt like an explosion of unresolved emotions and unmet expectations. Your relationship had been a tempestuous blend of fiery passion and constant turbulence, a rollercoaster of intense highs and devastating lows. From the beginning, it was clear that both of you had strong personalities, often clashing in ways that seemed impossible to reconcile.

The reasons for the breakup were numerous and complex. There was the perpetual danger that came with Sukuna's world, a constant reminder that you were living on the edge, with no guarantee of safety or stability. His life was fraught with peril, and the reality of that danger had taken its toll on both of you. You both knew that living under such stress was unsustainable, and it began to fray the bonds that had once held you together.

Your expectations, too, weighed heavily on the relationship. You had dreams and aspirations that seemed at odds with the life you were leading alongside Sukuna. The demands of his world often overshadowed your own needs, leading to a sense of neglect and disillusionment. It felt as though you were always putting yourself second, trying to accommodate the chaos that was Sukuna's life while struggling to maintain your own sense of self.

Despite the chaos and the inevitable breakdown, there was an undeniable connection between you—a bond that neither of you could completely sever. It was a connection that defied logic, a thread that seemed to pull you back together despite all efforts to move on. Both of you had tried to let go, to walk away and start anew, but the lingering feelings and shared history made it nearly impossible to fully break free.

Sukuna, in his own way, struggled with this as well. Even though the relationship had reached its breaking point, he found himself unable to completely let go of what you had shared. He was deeply aware of the toll that the relationship had taken on you, and he knew that you needed to prioritize yourself, your own well-being, and your own path forward. It was a painful realization, one that left him feeling hollow and lost, but he was determined not to be the reason you couldn't move forward.

In his mind, letting you go was the only way to truly show his love for you—to give you the space you needed to heal and grow. Even if it meant enduring his own misery, he accepted that it was a sacrifice he had to make. He knew that holding on would only serve to drag you both down further, and he wasn't willing to be the obstacle in your pursuit of happiness.

So, as time passed and the separation became a part of your history, Sukuna endured his own internal struggle. He remained in the shadows of your life, silently wishing for your happiness while grappling with his own feelings of loss and regret. He respected your decision and tried to move forward, even as he kept a part of himself tied to the memories of what once was.

But even then, you were truly something that made his life more than it was. You were the blossoms of his youth, the hope and vibrancy that had once colored his world. Your presence had breathed life into the mundane, transforming his days from mere existence into something filled with possibility and wonder. 

His elder brother Jin had seen it all those years ago, recognizing the profound impact you had on Sukuna. Jin had often remarked on how you were a beacon of hope, a light that guided Sukuna through the darkest corners of his life. Your influence was undeniable, a force that had shaped him in ways he could hardly articulate.

Yet despite the depth of his feelings and the significance of what you had shared, Sukuna couldn’t escape the gnawing belief that he had ultimately failed you. He carried with him the heavy burden of the notion that he wasn’t good enough—never had been, never would be. The weight of this conviction was a constant companion, a shadow that loomed over every thought and action.

He remembered the countless moments of doubt, the times when he felt that his flaws, his imperfections, and the dangers of his world were too great a burden for you to bear. It was a painful realization, one that left him grappling with feelings of inadequacy. He wanted to be the person who could give you everything you deserved—love, stability, safety. But he feared that he fell short, that he could never truly be the partner you needed.

Even as he watched you move forward, find your own path, and build a life without him, he was haunted by the belief that he had let you down. He was acutely aware of all the ways he had failed to meet your expectations, to protect you from the chaos that had once defined your life together. He thought that perhaps he had been too caught up in his own struggles, too consumed by the demands of his world to fully appreciate what he had with you.

In his quieter moments, Sukuna wrestled with the idea that he would never be good enough for you, that he would never be able to offer you the kind of love and life you truly deserved. This belief became a part of him, shaping how he viewed himself and how he measured his worth. He felt that he had lost you not because of any one mistake or shortcoming, but because he was fundamentally flawed, incapable of providing the kind of relationship you needed.

And so, even as he grappled with his own pain and regrets, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were better off without him. The memory of what you had shared lingered like a bittersweet echo, a reminder of what could have been and what was lost. He had to come to terms with the fact that he might never be able to offer you the life you deserved, and that acceptance was a hard, painful lesson he had to learn.

Sukuna's struggle with these feelings was a testament to the depth of his love for you, a love that, despite its imperfections and its failures, had once been a source of profound meaning and transformation in his life. Even as he moved forward, he carried the weight of this truth with him—a reminder of what you had meant to him and the painful realization that, perhaps, he would never truly be good enough to have you back.

Sukuna sat in the corner of the room, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, as he listened to his friend's banter. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in years. Gojo, with his usual grin, was recounting some ridiculous tale of his latest escapade, while Uraume, ever the quiet observer, occasionally chimed in with dry comments that had the others laughing.

But Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention. His mind kept drifting back to you—to the way your eyes had softened when you told him you wanted to give “us” a real chance, to the way you’d leaned into him, trusting and vulnerable in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Oi, Sukuna. You’re….” Gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, bud. What's got you all broody, huh?”

Sukuna blinked, realizing he’d been staring into his glass for who knows how long. He knows he spaces out when he’s thinking, but when he’s thinking of you — he suppose the time can go on and he wouldn’t even notice. He looked up to find Gojo’s bright blue eyes fixed on him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Uraume was watching him too, their expression unreadable but attentive.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Sukuna muttered, taking a sip of his drink. “Just thinking.”

“That’s a first from you, hm.”  Uraume teased, earning a snort from Gojo.

“Come on, spill it!” Gojo pressed, leaning forward with that infuriatingly playful grin. “Is it a girl? I don’t mind if it’s a guy, I know you swing that way too! Oh, wait… don’t tell me it’s the girl.”

Sukuna’s dark scarlet eyes narrowed at him. “What are you talking about?”

Gojo’s grin widened. “The one you’ve been moping about for the last five years. Don’t think I didn’t notice, Sukuna. You’ve been different at work lately—quieter, more… I don’t know, introspective.”

“Gojo–san’s right, Sukuna–san.” Uraume added, their tone softer. “You’ve changed. It’s like you’re finally letting go of whatever it was that had you so wound up.”

Sukuna leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of their words settle over him. He wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of their scrutiny, and he didn’t like it. But he also knew they weren’t wrong.

“Yeah, well……” Sukuna began, his voice rough, “I haven't seen her in a long while.. Five years, I think. But I heard…I heard she’s been around. She’s moved around town.”

Uraume raised their eyebrows. “Five years? That’s a long time, Sukuna–san.”

“Yeah. We were together throughout our senior high school and college. Then we broke up after we graduated.” Sukuna sighed, taking a long sip of his drink. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat, but it did little to ease the ache that had settled in his chest. “It’s been a long time, but… hearing that she’s moved here just brings back a lot.”

Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Was that breakup really that bad?” His usual grin faded, replaced by a look of concern as he sensed the gravity of Sukuna’s words. “What happened?”

Sukuna nodded, his gaze drifting away from Gojo’s intense stare. The room seemed to grow quieter as he delved into the past, the weight of his memories heavy in his voice. “We had multiple breakups. It wasn’t just one—there were several. But the last one was particularly rough. We both cried a lot, said things we didn’t mean. It was messy.”

Gojo leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Why was it so difficult?”

Sukuna’s face tightened as he struggled to find the right words. “If I’m being honest, it’s my fault. I wasn’t secure in myself. I was jealous, possessive. I couldn’t handle the idea of her moving forward or being happy without me. And that jealousy, that insecurity—it hurt her more than I realized.”

There was a long pause as Sukuna’s confession hung in the air. Gojo’s usual bravado was replaced by a rare, contemplative silence. He took a moment to process Sukuna’s admission, trying to reconcile the man he knew with the vulnerability being revealed.

“That’s a lot to carry,” Gojo said finally, his voice softer than usual. “But it sounds like you’re taking responsibility, which is more than a lot of people do.”

Sukuna’s expression was a mix of regret and acceptance. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t change the past. I know I hurt her, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that fully. But seeing her again… it’s brought everything back. The pain, the regret, and the memories of what we had.”

Uraume, who had been quietly listening, spoke up, their tone gentle. “It’s clear you’re still affected by this. Maybe it’s a chance for you to make things right, or at least find some closure. People change, and sometimes, revisiting the past can help us understand ourselves better.”

Sukuna nodded, though his expression remained somber. “Maybe. I’m not sure what will come of this. I just know that seeing her again made me realize how much I still care, how much I’ve changed, and how much I wish things could have been different.”

Gojo leaned back, his eyes thoughtful. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and maybe this is a chance for you to show her the person you’ve become. It might not fix everything, but it could be a step toward healing—for both of you.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe. It’s worth a shot.”

The room fell silent, the playful atmosphere dissolving as the weight of Sukuna's words sank in. Even Gojo, who was usually quick with a joke or a teasing remark, seemed at a loss for what to say. His usual bravado was replaced with something more thoughtful, almost solemn, as he processed what Sukuna had just revealed.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft clink of ice in Sukuna's glass as he set it down on the table. He could feel the eyes of his friends on him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the drink, not ready to meet their concerned looks just yet. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken emotions.

“I hope the best for you, man.” Gojo finally muttered, leaning back in his chair as he exhaled slowly. His tone was softer than usual, lacking its typical teasing edge. “You deserve to be happy too.”

Sukuna snickered. “You must be drunk being this nice to me.”

“Hey! I am nice at all times.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Uraume, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward slightly, their expression gentle and understanding. They had always been more in tune with Sukuna's moods, more aware of the nuances in his behavior than Gojo, who often masked his own sensitivity with humor.

“If you bump into her again, though….” Uraume asked, their tone devoid of judgment, only curiosity and concern. “Would you try and talk to her, then?”

Sukuna finally looked up, meeting Uraume’s gaze. There was a hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still grappling with the reality of it all. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low, almost as if admitting it aloud made it more real. “I would. In a drop of a hat.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all the unspoken feelings that had built up over the years. It wasn’t just the fact that you had come back into his life; it was the realization that despite everything, despite the time and distance, Ryomen Sukuna had never really let go of you. He had buried those feelings deep, tried to move on, but now that you were here again, they had all come rushing back to the surface.

Gojo watched Sukuna carefully, his usual smirk gone, replaced with a rare expression of empathy. He knew Sukuna better than most, knew how much pride had always driven him, how hard it had been for him to admit his feelings even when things were good between the two of you. For Sukuna to open up like this now, it meant that whatever he was feeling ran deep.

“I get it.” Gojo said, his voice unusually quiet. “I mean, you guys were… well, you were everything to each other. It makes sense that she’s still on your mind.”

Uraume nodded in agreement. “It’s not surprising that you still think about her, Sukuna–san. What you had wasn’t just something you can forget, even if you wanted to.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring off into the distance as if trying to collect his thoughts. “It’s just… weird.” he finally said, his voice thick with the frustration he’d been holding back. “I’ve been trying to move on, to put all of that behind me. But I just….I want to see her again. Even just one more time.”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded Sukuna with a serious expression. “Maybe you’re not supposed to forget, man. Maybe this is your chance to figure out what you really want, to make things right.”

Uraume added quietly, “It’s not too late to change the narrative, Sukuna. If you still care about her, if she’s still on your mind after all this time, maybe there’s something there worth exploring.”

Sukuna closed his eyes for a moment, taking in their words. There was truth in what they were saying, and he knew it. He had spent so long trying to bury his feelings, convincing himself that it was over and done with. But the truth was, he had never truly moved on. And now, with you back in his life, even in this new, unfamiliar way, he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward you.

When he opened his eyes, there was a resolve in them that hadn’t been there before. “You’re probably right.” he admitted, his voice steady. “I’ve been running from this for too long. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need to see this through. I owe it to myself, and… to her.”

Gojo’s grin returned, but it was softer, more genuine. “That’s the spirit, man. You’ve got this. Just… don’t screw it up this time, okay?”

Sukuna let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ll try not to.”

Uraume smiled softly, a rare display of emotion from them. “We’re here for you, Sukuna–san. Whatever you need, just say the word.”

Sukuna nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t alone in this. With Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next, even if it meant confronting the feelings he had buried for so long.

One more drink and  the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, the tension that had hung in the air slowly dissipated. But the resolve in Sukuna’s heart remained, stronger than ever. He knew what he had to do, and for the first time in years, he felt ready to face it head-on,

As the night wore on, Sukuna couldn’t help but think about the future—about what it would be like to build something real with you this time, something lasting. The thought scared him, but it also excited him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Maybe, just maybe, this time he could get it right. And with Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he wouldn’t have to do it alone. But the hour is late. And they’ve got things going on in their lives too. So they pay their bills and wave him goodbye.

As he watches his comrades pair off, he is forced to confront a painful truth. Despite years of searching, no one has been able to replace you. The women he's met, the flings he's had—they were all distractions, mere shadows compared to what he had with you. Each time he tries to move forward, your memory pulls him back, the echo of your laughter, the way you challenged him like no one else ever did, and the warmth you once brought into his life, all refuse to fade.

In quiet moments, when he's alone, Ryomen Sukuna wrestles with the possibility that his true love, the one person who could truly understand and match his intensity, might have been you all along. The very thought frustrates and angers him, but deep down, he knows it's true. The idea that you could be happy with someone else, that you could have moved on, is a bitter pill to swallow.

But what can he do? Could he really go back to you after all this time, after all the hurt and pride that kept you apart? The thought of reaching out, of admitting that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you, is terrifying in its vulnerability. Yet, the more he tries to resist, the more he finds himself wanting you back in his life.

Sukuna has always been a man of action, but this...this is different. It's not about power or control; it's about something far more fragile—his heart, his pride, and the chance of losing you all over again. The question that haunts him now is whether he can swallow that pride and take the risk, whether he can open himself up to the possibility that, just maybe, what he’s been searching for all these years was right in front of him all along.

And that possibility, terrifying as it may be, is the only thing that has ever truly scared him.

Sukuna's inner turmoil grows as the days pass. The world around him, once filled with the thrill of battles and the allure of endless conquests, now feels hollow and cold. He notices how his friends look at him, their eyes reflecting pity and concern. They know him too well, aware that behind his sharp words and defiant attitude, something is eating away at him.

He tries to brush it off, burying himself in work, in fights, in anything that will distract him. But no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts keep circling back to you. The memories come unbidden—your smile, the way you used to tease him, the way you understood him in a way no one else ever did. It's maddening, the way you haunt him, and yet he can't bring himself to let you go.

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IT WAS UNEXPECTED. It was that sort of day once again. Sukuna found himself in charge of his energetic nephew, Yuji, who had just been picked up from school. With his brother Jin and sister-in-law Kaori and Choso tied up with commitments for the weekend, Sukuna was left to manage Yuji. Given that he didn’t have to hit the gym or deal with work obligations that day, it seemed like a manageable task.

Ryomen Sukuna’s house was usually a quiet refuge from his chaotic world, but today it felt oddly empty. He doesn’t really like decorating that much, mostly because he has no time and mostly because he really doesn’t feel like it. But his nephew doesn’t seem to mind it every time he’s here. If there was something to distract the brat, then he doesn’t pay attention to everything else. Well, that and food. As he settled Yuji into the living room, Yuji’s curiosity quickly turned to hunger.

“Uncle Sukuna, I’m starving.” Yuji announced, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Do you have any natto? I could really go for some.”

Sukuna blinked, momentarily confused. “Natto? I don’t think I have any. Let me check.”

He shuffled into the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering inside. His search yielded nothing but a few cans of expired beans and a half-eaten pizza box. Sukuna eats out most of the time, because of work. If he does buy anything, it would be from the last time Yuji was here. And that was….a while ago. And just as much, there was no natto in sight.

“Uh, brat, I think we’re out of natto.” Sukuna said, returning to the living room with a sheepish grin. “And it looks like the rest of the fridge is pretty bare.”

Yuji’s eyes widened in disappointment. “But I was really looking forward to it!”

Sukuna rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Looks like we’ll need to go out for groceries. How about we make it an adventure?”

Yuji’s face lit up at the prospect of an outing. “Okay! Can we get some ice cream too?”

Sukuna chuckled, relieved that Yuji’s mood had brightened. “Sure, ice cream it is. Let’s get going before your hunger turns into a full-blown meltdown, brat.”

As they left the house, Sukuna and Yuji made their way to the nearby supermarket. Yuji’s excitement was palpable, his small hands gripping the shopping cart handle as he eagerly pointed out various items he wanted to add to the list. Sukuna, trying to keep up, found himself both amused and exasperated by Yuji’s relentless energy and enthusiasm.

In the aisles of the supermarket, Sukuna pushed the cart while Yuji darted from one section to another, collecting snacks, fruits, and—of course—several packs of natto. Sukuna grabbed a few essentials and, true to his word, added some ice cream to the cart.

As they approached the checkout line, Sukuna glanced at Yuji, who was happily munching on a sample cookie from the store. The small bit of chocolate on Yuji’s cheek made him look even more cherubic and endearing. Sukuna’s lips twitched into a small smile, a rare moment of warmth slipping through his usually stoic facade.

“You know, I think I might need to keep a better stock of food for next time,” Sukuna said, his tone light.

Yuji, still with cookie crumbs on his face, grinned up at him. “And more natto!”

Sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle. The idea of having to stockpile natto just to keep his nephew happy was a new one, but it seemed like a worthwhile endeavor. He ruffled Yuji’s hair affectionately, feeling a soft, genuine affection for the boy.

“You’ve got it, brat. More natto it is.” Sukuna agreed, a rare, relaxed smile on his face.

As they loaded their groceries onto the conveyor belt, Sukuna glanced around, realizing how normal and mundane the experience was compared to the high-stakes, dangerous life he usually led. The simplicity of shopping for food and sharing a lighthearted moment with Yuji was both refreshing and oddly comforting.

Yuji, ever the energetic child, started pointing out items in the store with increasing enthusiasm. “Uncle Sukuna, look! They have those gummy candies you like!” 

Sukuna gave a half-hearted, amused shrug. “Sure, toss them in. I guess I can indulge a bit today.”

As they made their way through the aisles, Yuji chatted away, filling the silence with stories about school and his friends. Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention, his mind elsewhere, when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

There, at the end of the aisle, stood a familiar figure. The sight stopped Sukuna in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. It was you.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He watched as you browsed through the shelves, seemingly lost in thought. Your presence, once a distant memory, felt so strikingly real that Sukuna’s heart skipped a beat. The years seemed to melt away as he took in the sight of you.

At first, he didn’t recognize you. It was just a fleeting glimpse, the way your hair caught the light, the familiar way you moved. But then, as you reached for something on a high shelf, he saw your face, and his heart stopped.

It was you.

He couldn’t believe it at first. He thought maybe it was someone who just looked like you, or perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, dredging up memories he’d tried so hard to bury. But the more he stared, the more certain he became. It was you.

Yuji, noticing Sukuna’s sudden pause, looked up. “Uncle Sukuna, what’s wrong?”

Sukuna swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, nothing, brat. Let’s just finish up here.”

But his gaze was fixed on you, unable to look away. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and Sukuna fought with the urge to approach you, unsure of what to say or do. The familiar mix of excitement and anxiety churned within him, a reminder of the past he had tried so hard to reconcile.

Yuji, still unaware of the significance of the moment, tugged on Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go over there? I want to check if they have those chocolates I like!”

Sukuna nodded absently, allowing Yuji to lead him towards the end of the aisle where you stood. As they drew closer, Sukuna braced himself, trying to steady his racing heart. He needed to act normal, to approach you calmly despite the flood of emotions.

Without thinking, he handed the shopping basket to Yuji and began walking toward you. The world around him seemed to blur, the noise of the supermarket fading into the background. It was just you and him, the years that had passed suddenly meaningless.

When he reached you, he hesitated, unsure of what to say. His mind raced, a thousand questions and emotions fighting for dominance. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility of seeing you again. But now that you were right in front of him, he couldn’t just walk away.

“Is that you?” He finally said it. He finally said your name. He could feel his entire body shake from nervousness. He didn’t notice until he said it that his voice was rougher than he intended.

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. Your eyes met his, and for a brief, electrifying moment, Sukuna saw the spark of recognition. It was fleeting, but it was there—an almost imperceptible flicker that hinted at a shared past. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a polite, detached expression.

“I’m sorry, but…” you began, your voice soft and apologetic. “Do I know you?”

The words hit Sukuna like a punch to the gut. The confusion on your face made no sense to him; how could you not remember him? The realization was like a cold wave crashing over him. He scanned your face more closely, noting the faint scar near your temple and the way your eyes seemed to search his face for something familiar but found nothing.

“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.”

You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Amnesia. The word hit him like a ton of bricks. All the anger, hurt, and regret that had simmered in him for years suddenly evaporated, replaced by something he couldn’t quite name. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t remember anything about your life together, the love you shared, or the pain that had driven you apart. He stared at you, struggling to process what you’d just told him. The person he’d spent years trying to forget had forgotten him completely. And it hurts. It burns. It…it kills him.

Sukuna’s heart sank as he struggled to process your words. The memories of the past, the shared moments, the intense connection—everything seemed to blur together in a confusing haze. He tried to hold onto the hope that maybe, somehow, there was a chance you might remember him later, but the reality of your situation was clear. You had no recollection of your time together.

“Right…” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with emotions he didn’t quite know how to handle. “No, it’s… it’s fine.”

“I just… I feel like I’ve upset you,” you mumbled back, your eyes filled with sincere regret. “It’s been like this for a while. I’m really sorry.”

“No, no… it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It was my fault,” Sukuna said, shaking his head, though the words felt hollow against the weight of his feelings.

You nodded, your gaze sympathetic. “No, please. It’s not. I understand. It must be hard to run into someone who doesn’t remember you. I’m truly sorry.”

There was a quiet moment between you, the weight of lost memories hanging heavily in the air. Sukuna, feeling the sting of both your absence and the reality of your condition, struggled to find the right words. He wanted to bridge the gap between what had been and what was now, but he found himself at a loss.

Before you could turn away, Sukuna took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. “Um… could I… could I have your number? Maybe… maybe we could talk sometime. If you’re okay with that.”

You looked at him, a flicker of surprise crossing your face. For a moment, you seemed to weigh his request, and then you nodded slowly. “Sure. I can give you my number. I’d like that.”

As you exchanged contact information, Sukuna felt a mixture of hope and apprehension. The act of sharing numbers was a small step, but it felt significant. It was a bridge to the possibility of rebuilding a connection, even if the past was shadowed by the uncertainty of your memory.

“Thank you,” Sukuna said quietly, his voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude. “I appreciate it.”

You gave him a warm, understanding smile. “Of course. I’ll be happy to talk whenever you’re ready. It’s… nice to have some help with my memories, even if it’s just a little.”

Before he could speak, Yuji tugged at Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go home now? I’m tired.”

Sukuna glanced down at Yuji and then back at you, his heart heavy. “Yeah, Yuji. Let’s head out.”

As Sukuna began to walk away, he felt your gaze on him. The pain of seeing you again, only to find that you had no memory of their shared past, was almost too much to bear. The bittersweet encounter left him with a mix of longing and resignation. You smiled at Yuji and then to him. Yuji grinned back at you and waved back. 

“Take care.” you called softly as he left the store with Yuji. Sukuna gave a small, subdued wave in response, his mind reeling from the encounter.

Once outside, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Yuji, noticing his uncle’s somber mood, looked up with concern. “Uncle Sukuna, are you okay?”

Sukuna forced a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, Yuji. I’m fine. Just… a little surprised. Let’s get home.”

As they drove back, Sukuna’s thoughts were filled with the echoes of the past and the present reality. The encounter had stirred up old feelings, and the realization that you had lost your memories of him was both heartbreaking and profoundly unsettling. Yet, despite the pain, there was a strange sense of closure, as if seeing you again, even under these circumstances, had helped him come to terms with the unresolved aspects of their past.

As you walked away, Sukuna stood there, frozen in place, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Yuji came up beside him, his eyes wide with concern.

“Uncle Sukuna, are you okay? Who was that?”

Sukuna glanced at Yuji, then back at the aisle where you’d disappeared. He didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know how to explain that the person he’d never been able to forget had forgotten him entirely.

“That,” Sukuna finally said, his voice hollow, “was someone I used to know.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

HE DOESN’T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED AFTER. The days that followed were a blur for Sukuna. But he couldn’t help it.  Your encounter in the supermarket had shaken him in a way he hadn���t expected. He tried to push it aside, tell himself that it didn’t matter, that you were just a part of his past. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, the way you looked at him with no recognition, no anger, no pain—just blank politeness. It haunted him.

Yet, fate seemed determined to keep throwing the two of you together. A few days later, he saw you again, this time at a coffee shop. You were sitting by the window, a book in hand, oblivious to the world around you. Sukuna hesitated, debating whether to approach you, but before he could decide, you looked up and caught his eye. There was that same polite smile, and he found himself walking over to you before he could think better of it.

“Hi again.” you said, looking up at him with that same soft, apologetic expression. “We keep running into each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah…..” he replied, his voice rough. He wasn’t sure what to say. The awkwardness between you was palpable, the weight of the past pressing down on him in a way you couldn’t feel. But you didn’t know that, couldn’t know that, so you just smiled and gestured to the seat across from you.

“Would you like to join me?” you asked, your voice gentle, offering a small, tentative smile as you gestured to a nearby café table.

Sukuna hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or why he was putting himself through this, but there was something about being near you, even if you didn’t remember him, that soothed the ache in his chest. 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” he finally said, his voice betraying the mix of emotions swirling inside him. He sat down across from you, the familiarity of the scene almost too much to bear. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. 

You giggled. “I don’t mind. Not at all.”

As you both settled in, the air between you was filled with an odd mix of tension and familiarity. You began to talk—small, inconsequential things at first. You mentioned how you liked the café’s atmosphere, how it had become one of your favorite spots since you moved here. Sukuna nodded along, trying to focus on the present moment rather than the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm him.

“You know….. “ you said after a moment, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, “it’s strange. I feel… comfortable with you. Like I’ve known you for a long time, even if I can’t remember it.”

Sukuna’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the years of pain, regret, and longing he had carried since you’d been apart. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair to burden you with memories you didn’t share anymore. So instead, he offered a small, wistful smile. 

“Maybe it’s just one of those thing.” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. “Some people just click, I guess.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering on his face as if you were trying to piece together a puzzle. “Maybe. But still, it feels nice. Like I can trust you.”

Sukuna swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his emotions in check. “I’m glad,” he said quietly, his voice betraying the depth of his feelings despite his best efforts. “I’d like to be someone you can trust.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, and the tension slowly eased. You talked about your life, your work, and the things you enjoyed. Sukuna listened intently, hanging on to every word, savoring the sound of your voice even if the stories were new to him. 

As the minutes turned into an hour, Sukuna found himself relaxing. The ache in his chest dulled, replaced by a warmth that he hadn’t felt in years. It was as if, for the first time since you had parted ways, he could breathe a little easier. There was no rush, no pressure to define what this was or what it could become. Just the simple pleasure of being in your company again, however different it might be from the past.

When you finally stood up to leave, Ryomen Sukuna felt a pang of reluctance, but he knew this wasn’t the end. You had exchanged numbers, after all, and there was a possibility that this could lead to something more. 

“I’m really glad we ran into each other.” you said, giving him a sincere smile. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“Me too.” Sukuna replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I’d like that.”

As you walked away, Sukuna remained seated for a moment, staring at the now-empty chair across from him. Despite the uncertainty of the future, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to make things right—to show you the kind of love and care he should have given you all those years ago. And as he left the café, he found himself smiling, a feeling of lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in far too long.

Like the wind, the days brushed by into weeks, these accidental meetings became more frequent. He’d see you at the park, at the grocery store, at the small bookstore you frequented. Each time, you greeted him with the same warmth, and each time, he felt the walls he’d built around his heart start to crumble a little more.

It was during one of these encounters, when you were sitting together on a bench at the park, that Sukuna realized something had changed. He wasn’t just dwelling on the past anymore. He wasn’t just seeing you as the woman he used to love, the one who’d left him behind. You were still that person, but you were also someone new, someone who’d been through their own struggles, their own pain.

And he’d changed too. He wasn’t the same man you’d walked away from five years ago. The anger, the recklessness, the pride that had once driven you apart had mellowed. He’d grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, sitting beside you, he realized that he wanted to make things right.

There was one afternoon where after you’d both finished your coffees at that familiar café, Sukuna finally found himself gathered the courage to speak again. He’d been thinking about this for days, the words tumbling over and over in his mind until they felt like second nature.

“Hey….” he began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You looked at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”

“I know you don’t remember me, or anything about… us, but I want you to know that I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed. And I want to try again.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I want to make things right for you.”

There was a long silence as you absorbed his words. He could see the confusion in your eyes, the way you were trying to piece together something that felt like a missing puzzle in your mind. You wanted to know what it was. How to be complete, and yet you didn’t know how. Not even if your past thought he was what complete was. Finally, you spoke.

“Sukuna, I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t remember anything about us, about our past. But I can see that this means a lot to you, and that you’ve been carrying it with you for a long time.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, and then back at him. “I don’t know if I can ever get those memories back. But I do know that I enjoy spending time with you, that I feel comfortable around you. And maybe… maybe that’s a good place to start.”

His heart leapt at your words, hope flickering to life in a way it hadn’t in years. This was a second chance, an opportunity to rewrite the story that had once ended in heartbreak. He didn’t know what the future held, or if you would ever remember what you once had, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something close to peace.

Sukuna reached out, his hand brushing against yours, and you didn’t pull away. “Then let’s start there, hm?” he said quietly. “No pressure, no expectations. Just… us.”

You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that sent a wave of relief through him. “Just us,” you agreed.

And for the first time in five years, Sukuna felt like he was finally on the path to something real, something lasting. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to prove that he could love you the way you deserved—this time, the right way.

As the weeks turned into months, Sukuna and you continued to meet, slowly rebuilding a connection that had once been lost. Each encounter felt like a tentative step forward, a cautious yet hopeful attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between you over the years. Yet, instead of the intense and sometimes overwhelming passion that had defined your past relationship, there was a newfound sense of calm and understanding between you both.

There was an ease between you now, a natural rhythm that felt different from the intense, almost chaotic bond you’d shared in the past. In the beginning, it was subtle—a shared smile over a mundane joke, the comfortable silence that fell between you as you walked side by side, the way your conversations flowed without the need to fill every gap with words. The pressure that once loomed over your relationship, demanding definitions and clarity, had dissipated, leaving space for something more genuine and unforced.

You found yourselves slipping into each other’s lives in small, almost imperceptible ways. Sukuna would pick up your favorite coffee without being asked, remembering the way you liked it just by heart. You’d invite him to a quiet dinner at your place, cooking together in the kitchen as you talked about everything and nothing. There were no grand gestures or declarations, just a quiet, steady presence that felt reassuring and right.

This time, there was no rush, no urgency to define what you were to each other. It was as if both of you understood that whatever this was, it needed to grow at its own pace. You’d learned from the past, from the way things had unraveled before, and there was an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. You allowed the relationship to unfold naturally, letting each moment build upon the last, like carefully stacking stones into a tower that could withstand the test of time.

Sukuna, too, had changed. The man who once wore his emotions like armor, who had always been so guarded and intense, was different now. There was a softness to him that hadn’t been there before—a willingness to listen, to be patient, to let things unfold without forcing them into place. He no longer felt the need to control every aspect of his life, and that included his relationship with you. He had learned to let go, to trust that if this was meant to be, it would be.

And in that trust, something beautiful began to grow. Your conversations deepened, moving beyond the surface-level topics that had once dominated your interactions. You talked about your dreams, your fears, the things that kept you awake at night. Sukuna shared pieces of himself that he had kept hidden for so long, opening up in ways he never had before. And you, in turn, felt safe enough to do the same.

There were moments when the past would resurface, like shadows lingering at the edges of your newfound connection. Memories of heated arguments, of painful goodbyes, would flicker in your minds, reminding you of how things had once gone wrong. But instead of letting those memories drag you down, you faced them together, acknowledging the hurt while choosing to move forward.

It wasn’t always easy. There were still days when doubts crept in, when the fear of repeating past mistakes threatened to pull you apart. But each time, you chose to stay, to work through it rather than run away. And with each challenge you faced, the bond between you grew stronger, more resilient.

Sukuna, who had once been so afraid of vulnerability, found himself looking forward to the moments he spent with you. The walls he had built around himself slowly crumbled, replaced by a quiet confidence in what you were building together. He no longer needed to prove himself, to assert control over his emotions or over you. Instead, he allowed himself to simply be—with you, in the present, without the burden of past regrets or future expectations.

You, too, noticed the change in yourself. The tension that had once gnawed at your heart, the constant questioning of whether you were enough or if this was right, had eased. You felt more secure, more at peace with where you were and where you were going. You trusted Sukuna in a way you hadn’t before, not just because he had changed, but because you had changed too.

As the months passed, the connection between you deepened, solidified by the quiet moments of understanding and the shared experiences that had brought you closer together. There was a sense of contentment that neither of you had anticipated—a feeling that, for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And so, you continued to meet, to grow together, allowing whatever this was to take shape in its own time. There was no rush, no urgency, only the quiet certainty that what you were building was worth the patience and the effort. You both knew that the past would always be a part of you, but it no longer defined you. Instead, it had become a foundation upon which you could build something new, something lasting.

In each other’s presence, you found a kind of peace that had once seemed elusive, and in that peace, you discovered the possibility of a future that was not just better than the past, but truly, deeply right.

Sukuna found himself looking forward to your meetings, the mundane moments that had once seemed trivial now holding a new significance. Whether it was a simple walk in the park, browsing through books together, or sharing a meal, these moments began to stitch together a new story between you, one that was quieter, more deliberate, and infinitely more meaningful.

But beneath the surface, Sukuna wrestled with his own emotions. The more time he spent with you, the more he realized just how much he had missed you—how much he had missed being close to someone who truly understood him. Yet, there was also the constant reminder that you didn’t remember him, that the memories of your past were locked away, possibly forever.

One afternoon, after you’d both finished a long walk along the river, you sat together on a bench, watching the water ripple in the sunlight. The conversation had lulled into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, Sukuna just watched you, taking in the way the light caught your hair, the serene expression on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” Sukuna finally said, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, nodding. “Of course.”

“Do you ever… feel like something’s missing? Like there’s a part of you that’s still out there, waiting to be found?”

You considered his question carefully before responding. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “There are moments when I feel like I’m on the edge of remembering something important, something that’s just out of reach. But I’ve learned to let go of the frustration. I’ve had to accept that those memories might never come back.”

Sukuna’s heart clenched at your words, the weight of your shared history pressing down on him. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the story of your love, the highs and lows, the way you had been everything to each other and how it had all fallen apart. But he held back, knowing that it wasn’t his place to force those memories on you.

Instead, he reached out and took your hand in his. “I don’t want to push you more than I already did.” he said quietly. “I just want you to know that I’m here, whatever happens. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

You squeezed his hand, offering him a gentle smile. “I know, Sukuna. And I appreciate that. I’ve come to trust you, even if I don’t remember our past. What matters to me now is the person you are today, the one I’m getting to know all over again.”

Those words gave Sukuna a sense of hope he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. He was no longer the man who had let his pride and anger destroy something precious. He had grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, he had a chance to show you that.

As the days passed, he became more intentional in his efforts to be there for you, to support you in ways he hadn’t before. He listened when you spoke, offered comfort when you needed it, and gave you space when you needed to process your thoughts. There was a quiet strength in the bond you were forming, a steady foundation that was being built brick by brick.

One evening, after you’d invited him over for dinner, you sat together on your couch, a comfortable silence settling between you after a long day. Sukuna glanced at you, his heart full of things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to put into words.

“I’ve been thinking….a lot.” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “About us.”

His breath caught in his throat, but he stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue. He could feel his heart pounding, the silence between you filled with unspoken tension. You looked at him tenderly, and those eyes—those eyes he had once loved so fiercely—held a warmth that stirred something deep within him. But this time, there was something different in your gaze, something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same love he remembered, the love that had once consumed both of you. It was softer, more distant, as if it had been tempered by time and the loss of memories.

Sukuna wasn’t sure what that look meant, but he longed for the days when your eyes had been filled with nothing but love for him. He yearned for the intensity, the passion that had once been theirs. But deep down, he knew those days were gone, that you had changed, just as he had. And even though he wished for the impossible, he understood that the love you had once shared might never return in the way it had before.

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping, from wanting you to look at him like that again, to feel that love again. But he knew, with a sinking certainty, that it was unlikely. Maybe this was his punishment, the price he had to pay for the mistakes he had made, for the years he had spent without you. Maybe fate was just that cruel, giving him a second chance only to remind him of what he had lost.

“I don’t remember our past, Sukuna.” you said softly, breaking the silence. Your voice was gentle, but there was a sincerity in it that made Sukuna’s chest tighten. “But I do know that I feel something when I’m with you. It’s not just comfort or friendship… it’s more. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right, being with you.”

Sukuna’s heart swelled with emotion, a mix of relief and longing coursing through him. He had waited so long to hear those words, to know that there was still something between you, even if it wasn’t exactly what he had expected. It wasn’t the grand declaration of love he had secretly hoped for, but it was something—a spark, a glimmer of the connection that had once bound you together.

He searched your face, looking for any sign of the emotions he had once known so well. But all he found was that same tender expression, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It wasn’t love, not yet. But it was something. And for now, that was enough.

“I’m glad you feel that way.” he said, his voice thick with the emotions he was struggling to keep in check. “I don’t want to rush things, or push you to remember something that might never come back. I just… I want to be here with you, whatever that means.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I want that too, Sukuna. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’d like to find out—together.”

He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, the heavy burden of his regrets and fears easing, if only a little. This was far from the ending he had imagined, but it was a beginning, a chance to rebuild what had been lost. And maybe, just maybe, if he was patient and if he allowed things to unfold naturally, there could be something new between you, something that was just as meaningful as what you had once shared.

As you both stood there, the world around you fading into the background, Sukuna couldn’t help but think that perhaps fate wasn’t as cruel as he had feared. Maybe this was his second chance—not to reclaim the past, but to create something new, something even better than what had been before. And for the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope that this time, he wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

epilogue 

A few weeks after your heartfelt conversation with Sukuna, you find yourself at a park on a sunny afternoon. Sukuna had asked you to meet him there, mentioning that his nephew, Yuji, would be joining. You had heard a lot about Yuji from Sukuna—how the kid was full of energy, always getting into something, and how Sukuna had taken on a sort of protective role in his life. You were curious to see this side of Sukuna, the man who had once been all sharp edges and intensity.

As you approach the park, you spot Sukuna first, sitting on a bench with a somewhat exasperated look on his face. Beside him is a young boy, who is clearly trying to balance on the back of the bench with one foot, arms outstretched like he’s performing some kind of circus act.

“Careful, you brat.” Sukuna warns, his tone stern but not unkind. “You’re going to break your neck.”

Yuji, grinning from ear to ear, just laughs and hops down with a flourish. “I’m invincible, Uncle Sukuna!”

“Yeah, well, let’s not test that theory.” Sukuna mutters, but there’s a fondness in his voice that catches you off guard. “Your mom and dad will kill me.”

You approach them, smiling as Yuji notices you and waves enthusiastically. “Hi! You must be the one Uncle Sukuna’s always talking about!”

“Yuji!” Sukuna snaps, looking mortified. “I do not—”

Yuji doesn’t miss a beat, cutting him off. “He totally does! He’s always like, ‘I wonder if she’s gonna remember me today,’ or ‘Maybe she’ll cook something nice again.’”

Sukuna groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Kid, do you ever stop talking?”

You can’t help but laugh at the exchange, and Sukuna’s embarrassment only makes it funnier. “Nice to meet you, Yuji!” you say, crouching down to his level. “Your uncle’s right, though. You should be careful on that bench.”

Yuji shrugs, his smile never fading. “Uncle Sukuna’s always careful too, even though he acts all tough. But he’s really soft, especially when I get hurt. You should see him panic when I stub my toe.”

“Yuji!” Sukuna’s voice is a mix of frustration and resignation, clearly regretting bringing his nephew along.

You stand up, grinning at Sukuna. “I see you’ve got a little soft spot, huh?”

“Don’t listen to him.” Sukuna mutters, glaring at Yuji, who just laughs and runs off toward the playground. “He’s a menace.”

“Sure, sure.” you tease, nudging Sukuna lightly. “But you love it.”

Sukuna sighs, watching Yuji with an expression that’s a mix of exasperation and affection. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”

You slip your hand into Sukuna’s, squeezing it gently. “You’re doing a great job, Uncle Sukuna.”

He gives you a sidelong glance, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Don’t start calling me that too.”

“No promises.” you reply, laughing as you both watch Yuji play, his laughter filling the air. It’s a side of Sukuna you never expected to see, and you find yourself growing more and more fond of the man who, despite his rough edges, is soft in all the right places.

[zhongrin]

zhongrin © 2024 ❥ do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.

when your heart screams within your sealed lips…

(…. i hope i can at least be there to hold you.)

featuring... ❥ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette, jing yuan, blade

involves... ❥ gn!reader, deeply personal blurbs (very self-indulgent), hurt with comfort (vague, with mentions of someone/people wronging/impacting you badly), probably ooc characters, mentions/implied retaliation by the characters

gilded golden lined fingers of a god dethroned gently weaves through your hair. for once, no words fell from your beloved’s lips, for zhongli knew that despite the silent night and the faux tranquility blanketing your dark bedchambers, your heart was screaming and writhing in pain.

the past few days, his amber eyes had followed you as you stumble and trudge through the thick mud of this whole mess you found yourself entrenched in. you may not realize his vigil over you, and countless times he had wished with all his heart, dreaming that you would sit with him to verbalize your troubles, seek his counsel, sought his aid - anything. anything but this foolish game of pretend, because he is not sure until when he can tolerate ignoring the vermin who has given you such unjust treatment.

perhaps in the morning the sky will darken and his wrath will descend upon the land you both walk on towards those who had wronged you. but for now, his anger simmers, bubbles, forges itself silently within his chest, tempered with the eons of expertise of molding metal. for now, he holds you like he’s holding a shattered bone china, like a craftsman appraising its damage before reshaping it with molten gold.

the price of violating the sanctity of a contract is steep, but the price of breaking your trust and betraying your kindness is steeper.

“you need not worry, my love. if there are moments where a god - retired as he may be - must pass judgment, it is now. a contract has been breached… and consequences shall follow.”

there aren’t too many things that can ruffle al haitham’s feathers. but seeing your eyes clouded with hurt and rimmed by veins of reds while you force a trembling smile on your lips as you welcomed him back home… it most definitely exceeds the annoyance from being forced to work overtime on a friday.

he’s glad he’s gotten used to reading you like a familiar book; your form fits snugly within his arms and your weight rests just right on top of his lap, not unlike the way a familiar book fits within his hand and weighs comfortingly in his hold.

“do you want to talk about it?” his comforting skills are a mixed copy of what he remembered from his grandmother and your own actions, carefully threaded and analyzed to fit the situations and the various variables within the scope of the equation. it’s methodical, logical, yet comforting all the same; it’s uniquely your al haitham.

whether you agree to open up to him or not, he’ll eventually find out. researching is one of his strongest skills after all, and when it comes to investigations, he has two strong cards to play: kaveh knows about almost all the gossips circulating in the city, and cyno is a strong advocate of justice who would be able to move independently given a whiff of the possibility of committed transgressions. if they wouldn’t do it for him, he’s sure they would at least feel empathetic towards you.

and if this perpetrator still insists on weaseling their way out of the law… well, he had been looking for a way to dispose that forbidden knowledge capsule, anyway.

wriothesley has never looked forward to arresting and 'welcoming' a criminal so much before.

impartiality is expected when you work in such field, but the agony you’ve gone through and he’d witnessed firsthand due to such heinous individual had been permanently etched in his brain. with each silent tears falling down your cheeks, it adds yet another scar upon his heart. he never fails to hold and comfort you every night, tries his very best to piece you together the best he can. but with how broken you were, he fears that you’ll never be the same.

he never wanted you to obtain a wound that cut so deep, it would leave a mark on your skin or your psyche. he’d take the bullet for you if he could. but with your insistence of dealing with the matter alone at first, he could only watch as you were ripped, torn, beaten.

he’s never felt like he wanted to utterly destroy a man as he catches your falling form and cradles it close to his chest.

so could you blame him when he personally goes on his way to make sure his newest, permanent prisoner feels absolutely unwelcome inside the fortress sunk deep beneath the waters?

after all, when the duke wants a criminal under his jurisdiction to suffer a fate worse than death, he needs no justification.

the word “guilty” had always tasted bitter on his tongue, like a sour, days-old water which had gone through several harsh conditions and became contaminated with environmental causes.

this particular “guilty”, however, he had said with the most conviction, with no pity nor sympathy, and its palate was of the freshest spring water of an untouched stream in the very nation he’s looking after. if the audience observes that the iudex looked colder and spoke with a voice so calm it’s almost obvious he was trying to conceal his fury, they did not say anything. it’s always been clearer than the reflection in the fountain of lucine; the fact that neuvilette holds you in the highest regard as his spouse.

so when you’ve been wronged?

naturally, when the opportunity for him to deliver justice on your behalf comes to him on a silver platter, he takes it with the most gratuity and takes the chance to personally hands down the verdict.

guilty, for the nights he had to hold you to sleep, for the mornings he had to assure you that you could go through the day, for the afternoons he had to check in to make sure you were busy and not wallowing in the murky depths of negative thoughts. guilty, for all the tears, the frustration, the mental strain, the self-hatred, and the bleeding wounds they’d inflicted upon your heart.

guilty, and for once, he finds himself wishing he could have handed down a death penalty.

“what’s troubling you?”

your husband loves his cuddles as much as his feline companions, and he’s just as sensitive to the changes in your mood as they do. with mimi sleeping and being your makeshift pillow, your cat curled right behind you, the fuzzy blanket pulled up to your waist, and your jing yuan holding you close as he continuously strokes your hair… if your heart weren’t so weary, it would have been a peaceful afternoon.

“you know you can tell this old man anything, yes, dearest?” a playful hum and a lazy grin rouses you out of your miserable thoughts, the muted colors filling with the warming golds of his eyes.

unlike inanimate chess pieces on a board, humans may veer off course from their planned routes and therefore proves finicky to handle to some. but to jing yuan, it is but one of the facets that makes human, human. so when you stubbornly try to avoid talking about it, he does not press further, nor does he feel anger.

time and time again, you’ve proven yourself stronger than steel; countless times you’ve proven you didn’t need his help, and it’s always reminded him of how resilient one could be in the face of adversity. still, he can’t help but fret whenever he’s deprived of witnessing the skips in your steps and the pleasant ring of your laughter. he may be patient, but he knows everything has its limits - both your tolerance and his fortitude, that is.

the general sighs and somewhat begrudgingly decides to give you a few more days. he’s gotten used to uprooting weeds growing in his garden after all these years; this, too, will not be any different.

“who did this to you?”

mara is truly a strange phenomenon.

while there are several things that could trigger his condition, if there’s one absolute causation which could decisively result in a mara-struck blade leading a whole carnage, it was seeing pearls of tears drop from your sullen eyes.

for a moment, he thinks it’s his fault. he’s not the best lover, and he has no doubt that you deserve better - but the moment you admitted you wanted him, broken and horribly disfigured as he was, you’ve filled the cracks in his being with you; you’re part of him, now. and he can’t bring himself to ever let go - but as you look into his eyes with the exhaustion of a broken soldier enduring one too many battles, he knows.

he knows he needs to fight a war you dare not tread.

“all i need is a name.”

through the desperation, there’s a hint of pleading in his voice. the hands cradling your cheeks are bandaged and bloodied with the blood of a billion lives, and he’s ever so grateful that you never flinch away from them. red spider lilies blooms ominously behind his gaze, lycorine bubbling like acid in his veins as he commits the memory of your lips forming the syllables, letter by letter. he’s not good at comforting people, so he does the best he could do: stay as close as possible as you rest against him, eventually falling into a tired slumber. blade carefully tucks you in, habitually presses a chaste kiss on your forehead, and sets off when you’re asleep.

if he’s already just a tool anyway, he would rather become the blade that pierces your enemies’ heart for your sake.

[rinnstars]

after school!

spending your time with rin after school

itoshi rin x reader : fluff, drabble, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated <3

rin thinks he can stay in this position for an eternity - his hands wrapped around your body as though fitting perfectly like puzzle pieces, eyes fixated on you and your phone - playing god knows what, his face melting into the warmth of your neck. he hopes you don’t turn around to notice his red face, he hopes you don’t feel his hands shakily lingering on your frame, he hopes you don’t realise he’s practically stuck on you like glue - its uncharacteristic of him. he knows logically with the scorching sun outside already peering through the thick curtain he always covers his windows, with the practically spoiled air-condition in his stuffy room, with the much bigger bed that he’s pressing you onto just one side of it, he can afford to move away. its terribly hot but he thinks he’s more addicted to you, the feeling of you on his hands, the feeling of you so close to him as though this was truly where you belong, the feeling of you so close to him that youre practically one together. he scrunches his face slightly, feeling you move within his arms, shifting into one that’s more comfortable for you whilst smiling at your phone playing one of those videos or games he just doesn’t quite get. but he thinks he can get used to it - getting used to you right on his bed everyday after school like you basically live here, getting used to dedicating his afternoons just lying down doing nothing with you, getting used to being yours as much as youre his.

he thinks about how much it has all changed since he’s met you, let you enter his castle of brick walls, get you to stay with him. afternoons like this used to spent on sweating himself off walking home to get rid of all his frustrations, wasting his time away and still avoiding that convenience store, lying down thinking about the past. yet now, he’s here on his bed from the cold bus ride with you, getting an ice cream from another convenience store that’s meant for you and him, lying down with you and thinking about both of you. he didn’t think he could ever get so close - he’s too afraid, he hates people too much, he doesn’t crave it he thinks, but who is he kidding? he craves it, the validation you give him by beaming at him like youre his whole world, the affection you give him through holding his hands, pecking at his face, combing his hair that just feels so much more than him doing it himself. its love, he knows: and just this once, he’ll give in to this addictive feeling, he’ll melt into this sugary-sweet feeling you give him, he’ll drown inside this unknown waters that envelop him completely as though hugging him.

maybe it wont last long - teenage love and all its angst he listens to songs like those. but he believes in both of you, you’ll be the exception, you’ll stay right here in his embrace, you’ll be his for the lifetime and if the world permits, in all of his lifetime and all parallel universes. sometimes, he finds himself dreaming of the future long past now, long away from this childhood bedroom of his still messy, long away from school that he practically only goes to see you - pulling at your matching necklace you bought with him at the arcade to kiss when he wins every and any football match, merging your body with his and becoming one just like now in a apartment at the seaside that you always chatter about with that crescent-eye grin, seeing you with a white veil in an all white room to profess yours and his love that wrapped around him like a jacket in a cold and harsh world. and he hopes it stays like this - he’s always being too idealistic, too dreamy, too passionate that sometimes it backfires - crumbled apart dreams under his brothers feet, crumbled apart test papers he’s thrown into the trash, but never crumbled apart love letters, photo albums, love of you and him.

he thinks too much - smiling as he notices your eyes closed, your head becoming heavy on his arms, hands letting go of the phone that drops lightly onto his sheets. for now, he should sleep too, dream the same dream you have, melt himself right onto you so he can wake up later - finish his homework with you on his desk, chat with you about everything and anything, and still have energy for his night exercise routine. and for now, he’ll indulge in this after school routine that he wishes could last forever, even when you two graduate, even when you two become adults - that the universe wont be cruel enough to separate the both of you, soulmates in his eyes.

[astrocafecoffee]

Astro observation (part 2)

✨ For entertainment purposes only, enjoy ✨

✨ MASTERLIST

✨ ASTRO OBS. (PART 1)

🔥 Taurus sun individuals usually eat slowly and savor their food enjoying each bite. They dislike being rushed during meals.

🔥 Sagittarius rising peoples thrive on variety in their excercise routine. They might regularly switch between different types of workouts to keep things interesting.

🔥 Capricorn rising peoples might enjoy dishes like roasted meats , stews and well balanced meals that provide both comfort and nourishment.

🔥 Sagittarius sun - very good in mathematics and calculation.

🔥 Groom conjunct your vertex/ Hera asteroid in draconic synastry can indicate they being your spouse/ you have a soul tie with them.

🔥 I have seen many Libra 12th house peoples often have people pleasing tendencies and have problems with creating healthy boundaries.

🔥 11th House mars people's communication style with friends can be direct and assertive, which can sometimes come across as agressive if not managed carefully.

🔥 Mercury in its debilitated sign ( Pisces) individuals may struggle with tasks that require precision, detailed analysis or strict logic.

🔥 I have seen when someone's 9th lord in their 12th house or vice versa , they often marry people from other states, cultures, and countries .

🔥 Aries moons can be quick to anger but also quick to forgive and forget.

🔥 juno in 7th house of Groom persona chart means your fs is your wish fulfilment, ( dreams come true 👀)

🔥 Virgo placements may excel in stock market.

🔥 Aries placements tend to tackle problems head on with immediate action. They prefer to address issues rather than letting them linger or escalate.

🔥 water placements are obsessed with beaches and coastal environments , where Earth signs with mountains.

🔥 I have also seen this many water placements either love water areas or hate it. There's no in between. I have seen cancer moons/ Pisces rising peoples having thalassophobia.

🔥 in Vedic astrology, Rahu in 7th house / rahu conjunct Venus/ rahu conjunct 7th lord indicates foreign spouse.

🔥 Webb asteroid in natal 11th house is self explanatory 🙃.

🔥 prey Asteroid ( 6157) in 4th house individuals often see their home as refuge where they can shield themselves from outside world. If it's negative side manifests in someone's life then there might be themes of feeling vulnerable or taking advantage within the family and home environment.

🔥 Gemini placements individuals are often misunderstood by peoples.

🔥 cancer moons emotional up and downs can weaken their immune system , making them more vulnerable to infections.

🔥 Scorpio placements likes to feel in control of their surroundings and emotions and they fear situations where they feel powerless.

🔥 Aquarius mars peoples value their independence highly and can be quite stubborn about doing things their way.

🔥 Jupiter in Aquarius people may involved in activism , volunteering or supporting charitable organisations.

🔥water moons , Capricorn placements often prone to depression.

🔥 Venus in Capricorn peoples may fear being vulnerable or getting hurt , which is why they often appear guarded more in relationships.

🔥 Aries mars often have fear of rejection . If they sense any hint of rejection they might quickly pull back or move on to avoid facing their fear.

🔥Pluto in Sagittarius peoples maybe fascinated by esoteric subjects, occult and hidden truths. This interest in the mystical and unknown can lead them to explore astrology, tarot or other metaphysical studies.

🔥 Asteroid Medusa conjunct midheaven in natal chart means this individual's career may dealing with controversial and taboo subjects , leading to transformation and growth. They could work in fields related to psychology, healing, crisis management or any area that requires confronting difficult truths.

🔥 Asteroid Born conjunct juno in synastry suggest a relationship that feels spiritually significant , with a strong sense of being " meant to be" or karmic linked.

🔥 Hera asteroid conjunct sun in synastry means the Hera person might view the sun person as an ideal partner, seeing them as someone can commit to for the long term . This aspect can indicate a relationship that has potential to lead to marriage or a deep , committed relationship.

Thanks for reading 🖤

- piko ✨

[slime-water-shrew]

Allonormativity and BillFord

(Links mentioned are at the bottom of the post)

I think aimasup puts it best in the caption above their comic linked below “They loved/love each other but not exactly romantically do you get me.” Bill and Stanford’s relationship was mutual and they definitely cared for each other in one way or another, however I don’t believe that love was romantic or even sexual in nature. Both Stanford and Bill show a lack of interest and/or understanding of romance in their respective books as countless people have pointed out, Ford even being referred to as “plansexual” (check out the Love page in The Book of Bill.)

[Photo of a pink page from The Book of Bill. The page says the following: "Bill, have you ever been in love?" "Sure -- tell your mom hi for me! By the way, have you taken a DNA test recently? Not asking for any particular reason." "Seriously, though, have you?" "Asking me if I've been in love is like asking a black hole if it liked your mixtape or asking a subterranean fungal spore network who its favorite animated princess is. I'm a multidimensional specter of chaos that transcends reality, I couldn't possibly care less about which bag of plasma blushes at who or why!" "Okay, but like... You gotta be crushing on someone." "I will light this book on fire." "Methinks you doth protest too much." " "Methinks"? Kill me before you start telling me about your polycule."]

[Photo of a grey page from The Book of Bill. The six fingered hand symbol representing Stanford Pines rests above a block of text that reads "Sixer dreams about a pop quiz that asks him, "What are you attracted to?" Usually writes, "I'm attracted to logic and preparation." Not sure what to call that! Plansexual?"]

And yet it seems that Bill and Stanford had a romantic/sexual relationship in the past. Bill gives you flirting tips and has done several of them on Ford. He gave him rats in the book and the “The “LOVE CAGE”” in the show itself.

[Photo of a damaged and yellow page from The Book of Bill. The page has a drawing by Ford of a pile of dead rats arranged to spell out his name, "Ford". Above the rat drawing is the text "Why?" with an arrow pointing at the rats.]

The karaoke page heavily implies that they went on a date and slept together too.

[A Photo of the aformentioned karaoke page in The Book of Bill. The page is yellowed and the text written on it is messy and completely unlike Ford's normal handwritting. It is also filled with spelling errors. It is hard to read so my best attempt to write out what it says are as follows: "I probabbly shouldn't be writin this down but I had such a crazy??? WOW what a. It was a night! And now it's mornign? Cill Bipher.... He did a dream? Karaoke? And then one thing led to another thing and normally I try to be sober but... He mixed a dream drink and??? I gotta say. I just gotta say. Look it's just me and my journal here, I gotta say: This Bill guy he's really got it all figured out. Also the rats were his idea? I get it now. I'm gonna, we're gonna what a time. What a hangover. Gonna sleep. Whole day. Ad aspera asperin -Stranford Pi" The pen then trials off the page and below the wall of mangled words is a drawing of Ford and Bill infront of the stars with mics in their hands singing. Ford is holding a drink in one hand with his eyes closed in a smile and Bill has an arm around him and is looking at him sweetly. The song they are singing is Disco Girl.]

So does this mean they aren’t aroace? Not at all. I believe that the two of them confused obsession for love. As wishwizardliv states in their post linked below “NOBODY CAN TELL ME IT WAS ROMANTIC[.] THAT SHIT WAS JUST OBSESSION ON BOTH ENDS”. Ford was practically consumed by obsession. His carpets, walls, everything down to the windows were made in Bill’s image. He prayed to him and his favorite constellation is Bill. He was a god to him.

[Photo of a page from Journal 3. The page is yellowed and there is a drawing of a few constalations. One being Ursa Major and the other being William. William is a triangle with a bowtie and one eye. The drawings are labled with a note underneath with a arrow "Favorite constellations".]

And Bill was no better. From the stories we have of his past his involvement in any one person’s life is a rarity and the fact that he visited Ford often says a lot. Not to mention I do believe Bill when he offered Ford to rule the universe with him. I think he honestly wanted to have Ford by his side for all of weirdmageddon. Not to mention he carried him around everywhere like a doll and made him out of gold unlike all the other people he petrified. They were clearly obsessed with each other and in our allonormative world that is hard to rationalize unless you assume it is romantic or sexual in nature.

Hana Hyperfixates in their video Gravity Falls and LGBTQ+ subtext: Decoding the Queercoding | A Video Essay, around the 1 hour and 33 minute mark they say “... there’s a lot here about Ford wanting women to notice him, and not a lot about him noticing women. He was a guy in the 80s who wanted stardom and acclaim. Women wanting men in power was imagery he likely was surrounded with growing up.”. You might be thinking “Okay but what about Bill? We know allonormativity exists in our world but how can we say the same for his actions?” Well I have news for you: we can also see Bill Cipher literally being pressured about how “you gotta be crushing on someone” (Book of Bill Love page); it’s clear that even though Bill is not even from our dimension even he can’t escape allonormativity. All of this in mind with how deeply obsessed with each other the two of them were it makes sense they would confuse it for the traditional kind of love and try their hands at dating. Which explains why a triangle that is above love (as he kinda states in the Love page), and a “plansexual” man would go on a date and sleep together. They may not ever actually have been in love but them attempting to flirt and date makes sense when you consider they just confused their obsessions with romantic love. In this context it recontextualizes Bill’s statement in the Love page shown below.

[Photo of a pink page from The Book of Bill. The words are written in white blocky but setchy leaters with a black box around them. The text reads: "Love is a trick. And worst of all. It's a trick you play on yourself!"]

What at first seems like the bitter words of someone who feels like love is pointless could be taken more literally. It was in a sense a trick he played on himself.

As an aroace person myself who has often confused obsessing over fictional characters or gender envy, or just really caring about a friend deeply with a crush, I have to say there is nothing more relatable than that.

Sources & Links

wishwizardliv : https://www.tumblr.com/wishwizardliv

wishwizardliv’s post : https://www.tumblr.com/wishwizardliv/758841130677862400/nobody-can-tell-me-it-was-romantic-that-shit-was?source=share

aimasup : https://www.tumblr.com/aimasup

aimasup’s comic : https://www.tumblr.com/aimasup/758803563813224448/they-lovedlove-each-other-but-not-exactly?source=share

Hana Hyperfixates : https://www.youtube.com/@hanahyperfixates

Hana Hyperfixates’s queer reading video : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JFRx3ibU3yU&t=146s

[illuminiscentboba]

are you wearing my merch?!

synopsis: they walk in on you trying their volleyball merch but you guys haven't confessed...yet(?)

featuring: atsumu, akaashi and matsukawa

ATSUMU:

he ended up walking in on you trying on their merch. "Y/N?!" his loud yell startled you and your quick to cover your atsumu miya headband. "is that...my merch?" he says incredulously. you consider denying it but his eyes are fixed on the font of his name on your shirt. oh no...you forgot to cover that too. "yeah." your embarrassed that he found out you were interested in him this way. but him on the other hand, his jaw is still on the floor, everything and nothing running through his mind. you? wearing his merch? he dreamed of this moment, in fact he was already planning to ask you to cheer for his team, cheer for him but did you think about him too? you started to unravel the headband. "noooo, don't take it off!!!!" he takes it from your hands, shifting your hair, concentrating as he tried to retie it. you find his struggling rather cute, trying to stand still as he fumbles with the knot. "you better wear this at my next match...I'll look for you in the crowd, you hear me?" "theres no way you'll find me with all those fans." you laugh, but he's serious. "i'll have you know, I have great eyesight! theres no way i would miss your cute smile and your cheering!" "he's right." osamu adds and you two jump at the sight of him leaning against the doorway. "theres no way he doesn't know all the details of your face with all the staring he does." "'SAMU!!!!" he sticks his tongue out at his brother who is swinging at him. it wasn't osamu's fault that atsumu has chickened out on confessing to you for what has been the 10th time. at the rate atsumu was moving you would be old and wrinkly before he even got to confess his feelings. "well" the twins still, both anxiously awaiting your response "I think its only fair that you owe me a date if i have to wear your merch don't you think?" they had a practice match to get to unfortunately and so you couldn't keep them for long. "a date?! wait...you like me back?? 'samu!!!! oh my god she likes me back!!" "I heard her the first time, dumbass." "wheres my phone!! i've got to resave your phone number as girlfriend!!!" "here we go..." osamu drags his whining brother away, you know how kita gets when they're late.

AKAASHI

he's apologetic, with the way your hands freeze gripping the shirt around your body its clear that you were changing. "oh, sorry about that. I'll close the door." he's quick to step backwards, already closing the door. "wait!" you panic. how are you supposed to explain the fukurodani headband and worse, the go akaashi go t-shirt you were sporting. did he think it was weird? did it make him uncomfortable? he paused, poking his head in. now he's got a better look at you, finally making out the lettering of the headband and his name on your chest. "is that for me?" he asks the obvious, was there another akaashi you knew of? the fukurodani headband makes him see logic. "that is for me." he corrects himself, inviting himself inside. up until now hes been pining for you, and even the team knew it with how much he accidentally brought you up or the way his eyes would wander to you. he spots another go akaashi ribbon, proving it wasn't an accident. you follow his eyes, laughing sheepishly at the display. "yeah...i told my friend that i thought your setting was cool and she got me all this merch." he smiles at the compliment "you should wear that at the match, it'll make my setting even better" he suggests, giddy at the idea of you in his merch and your cute laugh at his suggestion. "actually..." he gets an idea, slipping off his freshly washed jersey. you yelp as he pulls it over his head, a peek at his muscles and now ruffled dark locks of hair. he holds it out to you. "would you rather try on the real deal?" you try it on, posing in front of the mirror. "it suits you more than me" he admits, slapping a hand over his mouth at the accidental revelation. "maybe i should wear it more often then?" he blushes "maybe."

MATSUKAWA

matsukawa is too smug when he sees you walk out of the volleyball unofficially official 'fanroom', sporting a shirt with not oikawa's name, not iwaizumi's either but his name. he doesn't remember if he had even bids his teamates goodbye before rushing over. "nice shirt you've got there y/n." you flinch, your hands going up to cover the lettering. "what do you mean? this is a regular shirt." obviously no one is convinced, and your bothered by how cute you find his toothy grin and the lift of his eyebrows at your embarassment, he wants to push your buttons even further, "so you're saying that you didn't look for a shirt with my name on it specifically?" every time you turn away from him he comes closer, prying your hands from his face. "yeah, they ran out of oikawa shirts." you lie. you don't miss the way his smile drops and the disappointed slump of his shoulders. "did they really? were lying to make me feel better?" "No!! I...I lied, I was fighting for my life to get my hands on this. you have quite a lot of fans of your own actually." you wince at the memory, rubbing your shoulders that many people were bumping to get the merch. you almost wish you stood on the lie because why was he giving the cheshire cat a run for its money? "Oh? it sounds like you've got competition" "don't make me go back and return the shirt" "fine, fine." he gives in, struggling to keep his hands to himself. "wear that at our next match please." "whats in it for me?" he ponders for a moment, "would a fan be interested in...a date?" "deal." "...wait....wait a second?! WHAT!!! Y/N???" "don't be late." "HELLO?! IS THIS A CONFESSION?!"

[its-avalon-08]

hi !! can you do headcanons max verstappen X senna’s daugther!reader?

thank uuuu

hii !!! if i were to imagine senna's daughter!reader she would be so talented. she isn't a driver because of her built up trauma. (im fully aware that the timelines don't add up, don't add logic into it <3) she is an aerodynamic engineer, mainly responsible for making the car. she is secretly in love with speed and racing.

max and y/n met when they were just kids. max was a menace on track and y/n was terrified of racing. she saw speeding cars as a reminder of her father's passing. being good friends, y/n has a tradition of kissing max's helmet as a feeble attempt to keep him safe.

they started dating in 2019, and have been together ever since. y/n being the absolute genius she is, continues to work in redbull and delivers top of the line car designs leading to the dominance as seen on track.

max leaves a single, perfect red tulip on y/n's desk every race weekend, a silent promise to return safely.

y/n hides little notes in max's helmet before qualifying, each one a technical insight phrased like a love letter.

max, despite his aversion to early mornings, wakes up before y/n on important presentations to make her breakfast, his way of calming her pre-work jitters.

y/n, who finds airplanes stressful, uses a calming app max downloaded for her whenever they travel together.

max, after a particularly grueling race weekend, finds y/n curled up on the couch with a book about aerodynamics. he joins her, listening intently as she explains a new concept she's been working on, his full attention the sweetest victory lap.

max knows how deeply the lack of a father figure affected her, causing under-confidence and a constant need of validation. max knows this and never stops giving her words of affirmations.

everyone of the grid adores y/n. they see her spirit and her beautiful face reflect senna's in so many ways. max is fiercely protective of y/n, often defending her from questions about her father and his death.

y/n hates jos verstappen from the bottom of her heart. she is not scared of yelling at him when he berates max. she whispers affirmations into max's ears after a bad race (which was rare but not impossible)

when max crashes, y/n is the first to suffer from the highest intensity of a panic attack. she shivers and trembles until max gets out safely. after the crash in 2021 with hamilton which caused max to fall over in the medical center, y/n angirly stormed towards the cheerful hamilton, shouting angrily.

here's what happened ↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓

the smile evaporated as y/n marched towards him. it wasn't a walk, it was a storm surge. "congratulations? you call pushing max off the track at 200 mph congratulations?" her voice, usually calm and collected, was a tightly leashed fury. lewis blinked, his smile morphing into something defensive. "it was a racing incident, y/n. we both went for the corner." her voice cracked. "racing incident? you call leaving him stranded on the gravel, risking his life, a racing incident? do you have any idea what it's like to watch someone you love walk away from a fireball?" the room held its breath. lewis's face paled. "y/n, i…" "no, you don't," she cut him off, her voice thick with emotion. "you don't get to pretend you know what it's like to see your dreams vanish in a cloud of smoke. you don't get to understand the terror of every single corner, every single race because you haven't lost anyone on this damn track!" tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the accusing stare she fixed on him. "max is more than a rival, lewis. he's a friend, a teammate, a human being. and today, you gambled with his life for a trophy." the silence stretched, suffocating. finally, lewis spoke, his voice devoid of its usual bravado. "y/n, i… i didn't…" "you didn't think," she finished the sentence for him, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "just like some people never think about the consequences of their actions." turning on her heel, she stormed out of the room, leaving behind a stunned silence and a champion stripped of his celebratory air. as y/n reached the red bull garage, she found max emerging from the medical center, a sheepish grin on his face. relief washed over her, so strong it brought her to her knees. max rushed to her side, his concern a warm balm on her raw emotions. he held her close, whispering reassurances into her hair.

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well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

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[probablyasocialecologist]

Israel is a nation founded on and sustained by settler-colonial violence, whether the Haganah and Irgun militias in 1948 or their descendants, the Israeli Defense Forces, Mossad, and Shin Bet. Without the massacres, without the trails of tears leading to Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, the West Bank, Egypt, and Jordan, Israel would not exist. Settler violence in the name of Jewish supremacy is both Zionism’s original sin and its operative logic. From the left flank of Zionism (represented by figures like Yigal Allon, leader of the Israeli Labor Party) to the right (like Menachem Begin, commander of the Irgun Militia and future Likud Prime Minister), the founders of Israel were united in their designs on historic Palestine and beyond. Chaim Weizmann, the first president of Israel, declared in 1937, “We shall spread in the whole country in the course of time . . . [the partition] is only an arrangement for the next twenty-five to thirty years.” The dreams of early Zionist leaders live on in the settlers who terrorize Palestinians in the West Bank and push their settlements ever-deeper into what they call Judea and Samaria, or the “Land of Israel.” To today’s liberal Zionists, this is a deeply inconvenient historiography. After all, the Zionist colonization of the West Bank is widely condemned, and the International Court of Justice recently found that Israel’s fifty-seven-year-long occupation and settlement of the West Bank is illegal under international law. For decades, liberal Zionist writers have attempted to portray the West Bank settlers and their benefactors as the bastardization of a sacred ideal, rather than what they more truthfully represent: the bare, exposed soul of Zionist settler colonialism, without reservation, without media training, without hasbara; pure, unadulterated violence, biblical racism, greed, and theft. The settlers are, if nothing else, remarkably honest about the nature of the Zionist project. By cordoning them off as aberrations to be rebuked, the intent of liberal Zionist commentators is to reclaim the legitimacy of Israel via controlled demolition. This manifests in what the academic Kerry Sinahan recently described as “critical counter-insurgency,” a mode of commentary and reporting which is designed to “to rescue Zionism, rather than Palestinians, from the rubble of Israeli destruction.” Counterinsurgent critique is a means of controlling the narrative and constricting the spectrum of political possibilities. If the Zionists themselves set the parameters for acceptable criticism of Israel, they can ensure it serves their interest—and that it doesn’t go too far, to the rational end point of anti-colonial resistance.

3 September 2024

[echoofadream]

sub!Geto Suguru x fem!dom!reader

This is my first fanfiction so i don't know if it turned out to be what you wanted. It took very long to write and it was a tough process because I tried to make Geto's behavior as canonically accurate as I could. I also got carried away and kinda invented a plot and an OC? Not entirely sure, but I wanted to give the reader a name so your name in this one is Terumi Rei. If you like it and want me to make her an OC and give her a story and more depth please tell me! I hope you'll like it!

Synopsis: you're Geto's money-collecting monkey and one day you stop paying him so, instead of coming to kill you, he puts a curse on you. When you've had enough of both his curse and the fact that he wasn't coming to you, you go to his temple yourself.

Contains: smut, femdom!reader (woman, lady, miss, mommy), dub-con (??), masturbation (m!), oral (m! giving), p in v, cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampie, bondage?(hands tied with a belt), overstimulation, degradation, begging, mentions of murder (please tell me if I forgot to add anything else)

Being the CEO of one of the most known businesses in Japan had its perks...and its downsides. One of them were the disturbing dreams you've been having lately as a result of a certain man's bank account being, well, emptier than it should. Were you afraid? No. Were you mad? Extremely. You've slept three hours this week and it was Friday afternoon. You were stressed and tired and angry. So you did the most logical thing you could and that was paying him a visit.

The sound of your heels on the floors of the temple echoed as you made your way to his office. At some point you were, of course, stopped.

"May I help you, miss?"

In front of you stood a man. He was a foreigner, that much you could tell from the color of his skin and his poor accent. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, taking in your outfit. A white dress shirt with a black vest on top, a tie around your neck and wide leg trousers. High heels matching the belt and the purse, and gold bracelets around your wrists, as well as manicured nails.

"You're rich, aren't you?" he asked with a smirk on his face. He wasn't looking you in the eyes right now, but you could tell that he had already figured out the reason you were there. He kept eyeing a certain spot behind you, the same grin on his face.

"I'm here to see your boss. I don't have time for your stupid questions. Let me pass" you say, your face more angered than expressionless, your tone more assertive than it should've been in the presence of a man who could kill you without breaking a sweat.

"You have a big mouth, lady. You should keep it shut more often" he says, becoming serious and looking into your eyes again, leaving alone the "inexistent" thing behind you.

"And you should let me pass. You wouldn't have half the stuff you have if it weren't for my money. Move"

He frowns but doesn't get to say anything more as the door behind him opens and a man wearing buddhist robes approaches the two of you, a close-eyed smile on his face. You cross your arms in front of you. He looked so careless. His face seemed relaxed, his body language wasn't threatening and he actually seemed in a good mood.

"Good afternoon, miss Terumi" he says, his tone gentle, as though he was happy to see you. "What do I owe the visit?"

You don't answer, instead you keep giving him the same ugly look which was contrasting his joyful expression. He sighs. "We shall talk inside my office then"

He starts walking towards the room he just exited and you follow him, annoyed at his demeanor. Once you closed the door you turned around to face him. In the meantime he had already made himself comfortable, sitting on his low pedestal, legs spread and elbow on his arm rest. This man was laying on the mat on the floor and he called this chamber an office. The fact that he lived in this world, so much more different than yours made you want to punch his smile off his face.

"What's behind me, Geto?" you ask, trying not to yell at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, miss. Though you look awful. Do you get enough sleep?" He faked his concern for you and that only annoyed you more.

"I would if I didn't have that thing haunting me" you say, lifting your right arm and pointing with your thumb behind yourself. Geto chuckles.

"It's on your left side" he says, visibly amused.

"I'd prefer it if it wasn't at all"

"Then pay me, miss Terumi" he says, smiling at you innocently as though putting a curse on you for not paying him was the morally right thing to do. In his mind it actually was.

You step closer to him, slightly struggling to walk over the tatami mats on the floor, since your heels were digging into the material. "I paid you 10 million yen last month. I'm in the middle of signing a contract and I can't afford to spend more money. I'm not giving you any"

His face darkens. "I suppose you don't value your life then" he says. The tension in the room begins to grow. There were only the two of you there, but it felt as though his piercing purple eyes weren't the only ones staring at you with ill meaning. Despite the heavy pressure you felt on your shoulders, you took a step closer to him. His eyes narrow and his mouth shapes in a disgusted manner, as though he just tasted something horrible.

"Don't come any closer, monkey!" he orders, his normally soft and gentle voice filled with disdain. 

"You're utterly stupid, Geto"

His eyes open wide and he gets up from his seat, raising his voice. "What did you just say to me?!"

"You're deaf too?"

"You..." he starts, clenching his fists.

"I'd be dead by now if you wanted to kill me" you say, a smirk forming on your face. "Why am I breathing? I'm not giving you any money yet I'm still standing. Why?"

"Don't force my hand, monkey!"

"Firstly, I'm a public figure. If I disappear the police won't rest till they find me-"

"And you think I give a fuck?!"

You sigh. "Of course you don't. Why am I giving this monologue anyway? I'll be frank. I got fed up with your death threats. Give you money or I die. I'm done, Geto. I'm done with this. If you want my money you're gonna give me something in return"

He bursts out laughing, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "Me? Give something...to you? Woman, you're alive because I allow it"

"And your girls have nice clothes because I gave you the money"

"Don't bring them into this!" the man snaps, pointing his fingers at you. "I have other means to get money. You're not special"

You stand there without saying anything. The smirk doesn't leave your face, and you cross your arms in front of you, as though you were waiting for a little boy to finish throwing his tantrum.

"I'm going to kill you"

"You don't sound convinced"

"I swear you monkeys are getting more and more stupid by the day! Do I have to say it more slowly so you could follow? I. Will. Kill. You. So give me the damn money if you want to leave unharmed"

You chuckle at his frustrated state, a hand going to cover your mouth. "Have I ever told you how handsome you are?" you ask.

"How the fuck is that relevant?" He raises an eyebrow and his body loosens up. As much as he wanted to believe he was a superior being, he was nothing but a human. And like all humans he lowered his guard the moment he was complimented.

"Answer my question" you tell him, one of your hands going to your neck and loosening the tie.

He scoffs. "No, you've never told me before. But I know I'm handsome. I don't need some monkey's validation to sleep well at night. Though you kinda need to please me if you want to sleep well at night"

You took a step forward, getting closer to him. Geto had made it very clear that he wanted you to keep the distance so he took a step back and tripped over the edge of his pedestal. He fell on the floor. The next sounds he heard were your laughter and his heart beat in his ears as he felt his face getting warmer.

He looked away and tried to get up, but the moment he placed his hand on the floor to lift himself you stepped on it with your heel. "What the fuck, woman!" he snaps.

Instead of answering, you crouch in front of him, one knee in between his legs and the other next to his thigh. He sighed in relief when you lifted your foot off his hand and he quickly brought it closer to his body, rubbing it with his other hand. When he lifted his gaze he was met with yours.

"You're beautiful, Suguru"

He gulps and his cheeks flush red. This was too easy.

"Get away from me..." he says, uncertainty palpable in his voice.

"The reason I stopped sending you money is the same reason for which you cursed me instead of killing me" you say, lifting your hand to try and touch his face.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Even though he sounded threatening this time, his red cheeks were telling a whole different story. For god's sake, he could push you off him. He could kill you right then and there. If he wanted.

You lean in, your face getting closer to his. When he shivered from your breath too close to his skin, you whispered in his ear. "We both want the same thing from each other and you know it"

"Fuck you..." he said, his voice barely audible but still full of hatred.

"Poor choice of words, Suguru"

"Don't call me tha-ahh!" He lets out a moan when your lips make contact with his neck, kissing it affectionately. "Fuck..."

"Be patient, Suguru. I'll fuck you soon"

"That's not wha-ahh I...wanted t-ahh...fu-..." Louder and sluttier sounds came out of his mouth as you started to lick his neck and gently bite on his skin. He grabbed your shoulder, but instead of pushing you away, he dug his fingers into it. If you looked more closely you could see that his arms were trebling as his whole body was squirming under your touch.

"Geto-sama, is everything fine?" He freezes when he hears Miguel's voice from the other side of the door. You chuckle and slide his robes off his shoulders.

"Mhm...ye-ah I'm...I'm fine! Everything's fine!" he answers, trying to make his voice seem as steady as possible.

"You're cute, Suguru" you compliment him, pulling away from his neck and caressing his cheek.

"Don't call me by my first name, you filthy monkey!" he snaps at you, voice full of spite.

"I suggest you keep quiet already" you tell him. Your face was serious now, no longer playing around. "You don't want them to hear you, do you?"

He frowns and looks away from you. He hated this. Not your touch, god forbid! He hated not knowing what he felt. He always thought that all non-sorcerers were inferior creatures, good only for giving him money and curses. Yet here you were, the money-collecting monkey. He shouldn't have gotten in this situation. You stopped paying him so he should've straight up come for you and give you the ultimatum and kill you once you refused to keep giving him money. But he couldn't bring himself to do it for some reason.

You grab his chin and force him to face you. His cheeks reddened once again at your gesture. "Keep quiet, will you?"

"Fuck you!" Wasn't he so stubborn? Wasn't he so cute when he insulted you trying to convince himself that he didn't crave the touch of a monkey.

You get up and take a few steps back, but before you realize his hand grabs your arm. He was looking away, gaze fixed on the floor. He sighed. "Don't go..."

You laugh and get closer once more. "Are you gonna be quiet?" you ask again and he nods. You kept smirking as you slid his robes all the way down and threw them on the floor behind you. You start moving your hands along his bare torso, groping him here and there.

"Will you stop playing around already?" he asks, not trying to hide his irritation.

"If you learn how to respect me then I might give you what you want" you reply in the same tone as him.

Suguru scoffs. "I'll never respect you"

"Then I won't fuck you"

He bites his lower lip in frustration. Why was it so fucking hard? "Sorry..." he mumbles.

"What was that?"

"Oh, don't pretend you didn't hear me" he replies annoyed.

You chuckle. "I'm just messing with you. I never thought you'd be so sensitive, Suguru"

"Just touch me already..." That was it. He finally said it. But, to his surprise, you didn't do it. He sighed. "Please...touch me..."

"That's better"

You push him on the floor, making him lay flat on his back. You stood up and started unbuckling your belt and taking off your pants in a hurry. Holding yourself back from taking him has been so difficult till now. You couldn't wait to finally have him.

When your pants were off you saw him rubbing his thighs together as he watched you undress. "What?" you ask.

"Nothing..." He looked away, as though if he didn't see you he'd also disappear from your line of sight. That was cute.

You grabbed the hem of your panties and slid them down your legs, finally taking them off and throwing them on the pile of clothes on the floor where they joined his robe and your trousers. You place your thighs on either side of his head and grab him by the hair so that he'll look where you wanted him to. Yet he kept his eyes closed.

"I won't sit on your face if you don't look at my pussy" you tell him.

He shakes his head. "No...this is humiliating. I don't wanna...I mean I want it but...I don't wanna see you do that."

"Too bad I'm not negotiating with you. Now open your damn eyes before I open them for you"

And he did. You saw small tears in the corner of his eyes as he looked at the sight before him. Your dripping pussy was on display above him, offering him the view of your arousal, showing him how badly you wanted him. His tears slide down his face and get his hair wet. "You look..." he starts, but suddenly stops himself.

"How do I look, Suguru?"

"Better than I've ever pictured you inside my head..." he replies, almost breathlessly. You smirk, thinking about what other fantasies this man probably had of you. But you had something more important to do right now so you saved that thought for later.

"Wanna eat my pussy?"

He bites his lip. God was this humiliating. He nods and opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out. You don't waste any more time and lower your hips on his face. As soon as he felt you against his mouth he grabbed your thighs and started licking your folds, letting out soft moans and whimpers. You grabbed the wall in front of you, pulling on one of the signs attached to it and knocking it down.

"Fuck..." you cursed as you started grinding on his face. His tongue was doing god's work on your deprived clit. That was the least he could do for making you wait that long. "God...keep going mhm~...yeah, like that...fffuuuckk~ just like that!"

You felt his right hand leave your thigh and a couple of seconds later his sounds got louder. You looked behind you and saw his pants pulled down to his knees, his hand stroking his cock. "Oh my god..." He looked better than you've ever imagined. Lengthy veiny shaft, fat red tip leaking precum. It looked like it would hit all the right spots inside you. And you couldn't wait to use it like a dildo to get off while looking at this perfect man.

You got off his face, but his hand gripped your thigh harder, trying to hold you in place. "D-don't...'m not done..." He looked so fucked up. His hair was sweaty and he was panting like a dog. His tongue was stuck out and his mouth and chin were covered in your essence. What a sight he was.

"I'm gonna fuck you, Suguru. You want that?"

"Yes..."

"You need to learn to be more polite, darling" you tease.

"I won't be polite to you, monkey. Now sit on my fucking cock. I need it. Come on" He pushes you away from him, trying to make you do what he said. You sigh and get up, heading to the pile of clothes. You hated him with a passion but you were getting that cock one way or another and you heard the word "monkey" too many times today. Your sleep deprived brain wasn't gonna make it till evening if he kept saying it. You grabbed your panties and belt and returned to the man. He was laying on the floor like a fucking whore, ready for you to take him, legs spread and arms above his head and all that. You grabbed his wrists and wrapped the belt around them.

"Hey, what do you think you're do-" You shoved your panties inside his mouth then got on top of him again, positioning the tip of his dick against your entrance. You rubbed it along your clit a little, sighing contently as Suguru was squirming underneath you and thrusting his hips upwards.

"So impatient, Suguru..." you say, a big smile on your face now that you finally silenced him. Without any warning you lowered yourself on his cock, earning a high pitched moan from the man underneath you. Suguru threw his head back and started thrusting into you like a bitch in heat. Even if you were one hundred percent right and his cock was indeed filling you up perfectly, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl, you were still fed up with his attitude.

You leaned over him and took one of his nipples into your mouth and bit it hard, twisting the other between your fingers equally as painfully. It didn't give you the expected result. Instead of stopping his movements, he let out a scream so loud you could swear even the people outside his temple heard it. He raised his hips, lifting your whole body off the floor as he kept them still. And you felt something warm inside you.

You didn't even have time to realize that he just came from that, nor did you get to catch your breath when the voice of a young girl called out from outside the door.

"Geto-sama! What's taking you so long? You said we'd go to the aquarium!"

Both yours and Suguru's eyes widened in surprise. He let his ass fall back on the floor and you covered your mouth so you wouldn't moan when his cock hit your g-spot so fucking hard. You hurried to take the panties out of his mouth so he could answer the girl's question.

"I'm a little busy, dear" he answered, his voice hoarse. He coughed a little then spoke again. "We'll go! I have to finish...some paperwork...forgive me for making you wait"

How did he sound so calm while talking to his girl? You sighed. It was fucking Geto Suguru. You knew why.

"How many times have you been fucked in here, Geto?" you ask as soon as the girl's steps fade into the distance.

"So I'm not Suguru anymore, huh?" he asks, a smug grin on his face.

You frown. "Do you want me to put them back in that smart mouth of yours?"

"Maybe I do..."

You start riding him again all of a sudden, sending shocks of pleasure through his entire body as overstimulation starts taking over him. "Mhm... ngh-ahh... Ahh" he started moaning like a slut again. You wouldn't let him get away so soon. He needed to be taught a lesson. You were gonna fuck him like you hated him so he would learn never to disrespect you again.

"Nhgh-...ahh sensitive...ohh f-fuck...!"

"What? What is it, you slut? How many people have fucked you in here, huh? Answer!"

He shook his head as tears started to form in the corners of his eyes. God he was so pretty. The way he looked like such a slut, hair messy, toned body covered him sweat, your dry cum still on his face...

"I'll stop" you threaten him, "I'll stop if you don't tell me how many have fucked y-"

"No no n-ah ahh no NO! Don't f-ahh stop! Many...ngh-ahh many...!" he cried.

The sounds of skin against skin, the wet sound your pussy was making as you were sliding up and down his abused cock, his whorish moans and cries as another orgasm took over his entire being were the only noises present in the room. Your combined cum was sliding down his legs, wet spots already formed on the tatami mats underneath your bodies.

"Oh ahh~...f-ahh...ngh-ahh" he started sobbing, fat tears running down his pretty cheeks. The way his cock twitched inside you after the second high, hitting all the right spots as you used it to get off only contributed to the orgasm that was approaching you rapidly.

"I'm gonna cum, bitch" you tell him. "Gonna cum using you like all the other people you called over did" Your hand goes down and you start rubbing your clit, feeling your high engulfing your entire body.

It was hard to keep going right after but you still did. You had to punish this man for all the things he did and said to you. So you kept bouncing on that divine cock of his as cum was gathering in between the two of you and making everything so wet and lewd and dirty.

"I'm gonna make you cum till you forget your own name, whore!" you try to yell at him, but your words have been coming out as only moans and whimpers for the last ten minutes. Suguru kept sobbing underneath you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open, slutty whimpers and moans constantly coming out as his voice was getting more and more hoarse.

"Mhm~...ahh slower...f-ahh gon-...cum...hurts....slower...monkey"

You stopped. Your eyes were wide and you could feel the ager his words caused start flooding your body. "What did you just call me?!" you snap at him, feeling a strong desire to punch him in the face right then and there.

He looked at you and whimpered, moving his tied arms frantically. Tears were still streaming down his face as he looked at you with pleading eyes and a hurt expression.

"Mommy...I said mommy...you misheard me, I said mommy!" he whimpers.

You smirk and cover your face as you try not to burst into laughter. God he was so shameless when he wanted pussy, it was almost unbelievable.

"You wanna cum, Geto?" you ask him. Your mind was so tired you weren't even aware of half the things you were telling him.

"No!" he yells. "Not Geto, Suguru...Suguru, mommy...!"

You look at him dumbfounded and it takes a while to realize why he was saying his name. When you did you chuckled. "Yeah...you're right. Suguru. My Suguru. You get it?"

He nods rapidly. "Yes, yes, yes, yours. Wanna cum. Wanna cum, pretty please"

You smirk and start going up and down again, throwing your head back at the feeling of his fat tip harassing your sweet spot.

"Ngh-ahh thank you! Thank ahh-...ahh ngh-... thank you!" he whimpers, his third orgasm getting closer each time your soft walls squeezed his cock.

You weren't in a much better state yourself. Sweat was dripping down your face and body, the shirt you never took off so drenched it became see through. Your hand hurries to your clit to rub circles around it so you could feel that wave of pleasure engulf you once more.

"C-cum...! gon-ahh cum...!" Suguru sobbed.

"Cum whore! Fu-" you don't get to finish your sentence as you feel him shoot his warm cum inside your cunt. The feeling pushed you over the edge, making both of you cum at the same time.

You collapse on top of him and close your eyes. The sleepless nights and the intensity of what the two of you just did made you barely able to think, let alone get off him.

"Off!" he whimpers. "Off, off, off! Hurts! Please!"

His voice gets you out of your dizziness and you get off him, his cock slipping out of you so easily and making both of you whine. You lay on the floor next to him, both of you panting, the sweat on your bodies making you stick to each other. You tried your best not to fall asleep but you failed miserably. You were scared that he'd do something bad to you while you were sleeping. You needed to stay awake.

"Miss Terumi..." he starts but when he turns his head towards you he sees that you're already asleep. "I'm sorry..."

Tags: @megumisdivinedogs , @eclecticfirewitch , @kawaiiskeletoneggsnerd , @memi067

[tjjamess]

To YOU he’s just a 192 year old dead revolutionary medical student who represented the logic of the revolution who lived much more normal than his counterpart, who was more human than man, the homo to vir, who liked the word citizen but preferred the word man and would gladly say hombre, who read everything, did theatres, followed lectures, explained the functions of artery’s, followed science, deciphered hieroglyphics, broke stones to look inside them, drew silk moths from memory, corrected the dictionary, both asserted and denied nothing, daydreamed, who was involved in issues of education, wanted society to raise intellectual and moral standards, believed that the narrowness of teachings and the scholastic prejudice would turn collages into artificial oyster farms, who was well-read, a purist, precise, polytechnical, hardworking, imaginative, who dreamed of trains and better surgical operations and fixing cameras and electric telegraphs and steering hot air balloons, who was the guide to the leader, who was not incapable of fighting but would rather be gentle, who wanted neither halt nor haste, who would rather let progress take its course rather than worship and incite revolutionary adventures, coolheaded but pure, methodical but irreproachable, phlegmatic but imperturbable, and who believed ‘good must be innocent’

To ME he’s everything