#And end up with what reads like a Very strange love triangle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starmapz · 8 months ago

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shame on me || chapter one || vessel

gojo satoru x female vessel reader

❝gojo satoru is the strongest sorcerer. when you come along with power to match his own, his responsibility to the world gets the best of him and his first impression is poor to say the least. when he needs your help, by some miracle you're too kind to deny him. or maybe he's just manipulative enough to convince you. either way, you're stuck training his student, a vessel like you. what could possibly go wrong?❞

warnings || 18+ only. contains explicit content. enemies to lovers. extreme angst. graphic descriptions of injury and death. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. fluff. major character death. anxiety. panic attacks. extreme slow burn. eventual smut. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). praise. overstimulation. fingering. mating press. slight nanami x reader. will have a happy ending!

additional tags || gojo is a dumbass but very lovable. very very very minor love triangle, will not be a main theme. no competing. takes place after season 2. au where gojo is not sealed and the shibuya incident does not go down the same. nanami is alive. choso is around. no major manga spoilers but will contain themes and ideas touched on later. wc || 6.2k.

edited but not beta-read.

series masterlist || main masterlist || next chapter

The sobs wracking your body were a small window into the pain you felt as the sounds of the sterile room began to fade, replaced by ringing in your ears. The warmth leaving your father’s body as you sobbed over his hospital bed, begging him to cling to life although your pleas were met with silence.

Doctors and nurses began to trickle out of the room, leaving you the space to mourn. A curtain was pulled around the small hospital bed, separating you from the young boy sitting alongside his mother in the bed behind you. You could only hope the dread you felt in that moment as your father’s presence faded, to be replaced only by memories, wasn’t a feeling the young boy would experience at such a young age.

“I miss you, dad.”

The silence following your weak and broken words was louder somehow than the commotion of trying to keep him with you only a few minutes ago. A silence that weighed you down and threatened to drown you with every waking moment.

“I’d give anything to have you back,” you whisper through broken weeps.

Leaning over the bed, you were oblivious to the sudden commotion restarting in the room outside the curtain. The deafening ringing in your ears, the tears blinding you, your world crumbling around you, it was all too much and you almost didn’t notice when your father’s finger twitched beneath you. Blinking away your tears, you slowly sit up, shaking hands staring at his fingers, which grew warmer. Your eyes trail slowly towards the monitor hooked up to your father as it beeps and all you can do is stare in disbelief. How could it even be possible what you were witnessing? He remained still, but warmth flooded his body.

As hope floods your grief-filled body, you become suddenly aware of the noise around you, the nurses and doctors flooding the room behind you in an effort to save the boy’s mother behind you, but she was gone already, as quickly as your father had returned.

Your emotions felt like a physical weight dragging you down as you dared to poke your head through the curtain that cordoned your father off. As the commotion died down around the family behind you, it picked up again where your father was now that his monitor had restarted.

Puzzled, you found yourself unable to do anything but stare at the poor young boy, clinging to his mother and weeping helplessly. What left you puzzled was the strange residue that lingered both in the air and around the woman’s body. It was indescribable, like some sort of smoke, yet it clung to her like a net.

That is cursed energy.

Startled, you flung yourself around to face- no one? Nurses worked tirelessly around your father as they tested and monitored his status, but none of them seemed to be paying you any mind.

I apologize, I did not intend to scare you, the voice, one of a calm and gentle demeanor, spoke one more. Your eyes scanned the room again, but you couldn’t identify the source no matter how hard you tried. You weren’t even certain where the voice had come from.

Holding your head in confusion as it began to pound in pain, you stumbled back to the chair beside your dad’s bedside, groaning as it felt someone was pulling your consciousness from your own body. Opening your eyes in an effort to make a desperate plea for help to one of the nurses, your vision blurred, a white light blinding you before you could so much as think, and you found yourself whisked away from the waking world.

You stood now on a massive wooden ship, creaking wood beneath your feet. Sat atop the bridge of the ship was a large serpent-like dragon with ethereal white scale, silver hair and long, slender horns. Its appearance was almost angelic, with the way its scales shimmered in the dim lighting of the cave that surrounded you. The ship swayed slightly as the creature’s tail twitched, pulling along with it a ghostly humanoid figure that fell back outside the boat. You found your eyes trailing to the edge of the ship, met with a river of apparitions, all human in appearance though they lacked distinctive features. A lowly hum reverberated through the cave from the river as they lapped against the side of the ship as though they were waves, causing a gentle rocking motion of the ship.

Stumbling backwards, your breathing quickens as you attempt to take in the sight. A dream, for sure. It had to be.

“Y/N,” the creature’s voice echoes through the cave, glowing red eyes ripping away the veil of what you had once thought of as an angelic creature.

Your words fail to reach your lips and all you can do is gasp as the creature slinks forward, moving as though the ship is a part of it.

“I do apologize for startling you,” the creature’s voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the red eyes that bore into you, leaving you paralyzed in fear as the gentle breaths of the creature waft over you.

“What are you?” You whisper in disbelief, your eyes flickering between its massive glowing eyes.

It doesn’t move as it responds very simply. “I am a curse,” your furrowed brow tells it to continue in its explanation. “I am a being caused by the negative energy of humans. Very few people know of the existence of us.”

“I don’t understand,” you shake your head, shuffling back to try to put any amount of distance between yourself and the monster.

The serpent straightens its long neck, towering over you menacingly, though it seemed to hold no malice towards you. “It would appear I have laid dormant within you for a few years,” it seems to say more to itself than to you. “When your mother passed during your birth, she requested I look after you.”

“My mother… cursed me?” You ask in disbelief, wide-eyed. Surely this was all just some sort of weird dream after the day you had had.

“I would like to think she didn’t,” to your surprise the creature seems to rumble as though it’s laughing, although it comes out more as a guttural noise, nearly a growl. “You were meant to die in childbirth. She asked me, as her companion for many years, to save you, at the cost of her life. It took a great deal of energy to transfer myself and it would appear I have laid dormant since then.”

Trying to take in all the information, you blink, slowly nodding. “So this isn’t some sort of sick dream, huh?” The dragon doesn’t answer. It knows you’re smart enough to answer your own question. After a short silence, it speaks once again, returning to its place on the bridge as it does so.

“Whether you intended to do so or not, you utilized my powers today.”

You examined the creature’s expression from where you sat below it, its majesty towering tall over you. Did it have the power to bring people back as it had done for you so long ago? Did you somehow call on it to save your dad? Your jaw slacks as a realization hits you and you barely manage to choke out the question that makes your stomach churn.

“That kid’s mother-?” Your voice betrays you, breaking before you can finish your sentence.

“Yes.” The creature doesn’t miss a beat as it responds, its voice unwavering.

A lump forms in your throat as your body begins to feel weak. Not only was this real, but you were now responsible for the death of a little boy’s mother. A weak whimper escapes through your lips as you feel your elbows weaken and you collapse to the floor of the ship. Your skin paling as your breaths grow ragged, you grip at your chest, clawing desperately in search of air, but nothing comes to you.

“I recognize I cannot offer much comfort, but you should not blame yourself for this.”

You can’t do anything but stare at the monster before you, tears trailing down your face as your shaking body betrays the panic coursing through you.

“What the fuck are you?” Your words are a desperate plea, a question you can only hope the dragon understands.

“I am death,” the dragon’s head lowers to meet your gaze with its own. “And you are my vessel.”

– 10 years later –

“Shoot,” you mutter to yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. You were nearly finished with the flower arch that had been ordered by your latest client for their wedding, but you were missing the twine necessary to complete the order. The arch was meant to be picked up tomorrow with the wedding coming up on the weekend, leaving you no other choice than to make your way into town.

Pushing yourself up from the ground, you dust your flower dress off, grab your bag and sunglasses, and make your way out the door in the direction of the outskirts of Tokyo. A walk couldn’t hurt anyway, it had been a bit since you had been in town. Your little cottage was located on the outskirts of Tokyo, hidden away in the trees with only your father knowing where it was located.

It was a lonely life, but it was safer. Safer, away from anyone you could hurt.

Is that a veil?

Your steps falter as you pause upon hearing Miriko’s voice, your eyes scanning the line of trees until you see the veil in question.

You grimace, debating whether it’s worth it to make your way to Tokyo later, but figure you can slip by unnoticed if you simply mask Miriko’s cursed energy, shutting her out. To anyone capable of seeing cursed energy, you knew your energy stood out, Miriko had told you that you were strong, stronger than most with her at your side. In addition to that, you had been shocked to find your eyes had become a dull crimson, replacing the color your eyes had been when you had grown up, but it was easy enough to hide behind the pink-tinted sunglasses you wore everywhere.

Pushing along the path, you shut Miriko out completely, masking your cursed energy. Continuing along the gravel and dirt path, you find yourself kicking at a pebble along the path, your eyes flickering up to the pile of rubble that stood where your neighbor’s house had once been, the veil now dispelled. You didn’t know your neighbors well, but still a pang of sadness pulled at your chest. They had been kind.

To your surprise as you stared at the pile of rubble, a pair of kids no older than sixteen were making their way out of the rubble towards you and the limousine car parked on the other side of the gravel road. They were loudly bickering over something to do with a curse, hopping over the rubble of the house. A girl holding a long weapon with deep green hair pauses as she hops down from a piece of splintered wood.

“Y’alright?” She frowns, grabbing your attention, as well as that of the blonde-haired boy beside her.

“Yeah, um,” you hum thoughtfully, a shiver running down your spine as you suddenly feel like you’re being watched. “The couple that lives here, are they alright?”

The girl nods slowly. “There was only one person here. Our friend took ‘em to the hospital.”

“Right, um, thank you!” You say in an effort to slip away unnoticed as the growing unease within you begins to itch uncomfortably within you. Turning to leave, you lock eyes suddenly with a white-haired man leaning against the limo behind you that you hadn’t noticed before. He’s smirking, but you’re unable to read his expression otherwise, his eyes covered by a black blindfold. You feel relief wash over you as you realize he can’t see you or more specifically your eyes as you were certain you would have accidentally locked eyes with him through the edge of your glasses. Your shoulders relax as you begin to make your way again to Tokyo.

“Why don’t we give you a ride?” His voice sounds behind you and you turn back to him, shooting you a smile he can’t see.

“That’s kind, but I’m good. Thank you,” you tell him, bowing your head and turning back towards the city, picking up the pace as your unease began to return, despite the offer sounding kind. Except-

You let out a sharp gasp as you turn around and are met with the sight of the tall man facing you, mere inches in front of you. Your heart falters and you jump back, blinking in disbelief at him. Could he see you after all?

“I insist.” His voice held a much darker and firmer tone despite his smirk.

“I’d rather not get into a car with a man I don’t know,” you stand your ground despite the voice within you begging you to get out of there.

“I’d get in the car if I were you,” his voice is lower yet as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, his muscles pulling the fabric of his black jacket taught. His smile doesn’t waver as he silently awaits your response. You straighten, about to stand your ground but before you have the chance to argue with him, he brings a hand up to pull one side of his blindfold down. His eyes are a brilliant and bright blue. They’re so bright, you almost wonder if they’re glowing, a horrible jolt of fear running straight up your spine, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

Even with your cursed energy blocked, you recognized immediately that his eyes were like yours. He could see after all. He had seen your crimson eyes. Your lips pressed into a thin line, you slowly nod and let him corral you into the back of the limousine. Closing the door behind you, you watched from within the car as the white-haired man spoke to the two boys with a beaming grin.

“Ijichi, the school please,” he calls as he hops into the car, pressing a button on the console that separates the seats you both sat in, facing one another, from the seats the two boys and the driver were in.

“So,” he begins, leaning back with arms crossed behind his head in a deceptively relaxed manner. “A curse-user with no cursed energy? Seems a bit unheard of, no?” The playful lilt to his tone was unnerving and grated. Your jaw clenches and your eyes scan your surroundings as you debate whether it’s worth it to simply throw yourself out of the moving vehicle.

Staying silent, you steel yourself as you meet his gaze, although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew very well that he could see you now.

“More the silent type, hmm?” He hums playfully, leaning forward until his face is barely a foot from you. Your breath hitches in your throat at his close proximity to you and he smirks as your control wavers, your cursed energy slipping through the cracks. “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles lowly, leaning back again. You swallow hard at the menacing cadence his voice held despite his simple smirk.

Get out of here.

You grimace at Miriko’s words, your eyes scanning your surroundings once more. The stranger chuckles as he watches you scan your surroundings. Your anxiety rises as your cover cracks, your cursed energy growing more and more apparent. As your composure cracks, the white-haired man across from you pulls his blindfold down to lay around his neck. You swallow hard as your gaze locks on to his.

He is the user of the six eyes technique. A member of the Gojo clan. You’re in danger.

Her words in your mind did you no favors as you take a breath to steady yourself and keep your composure. Regardless of how strong your cursed energy was, your abilities came at a great cost and you couldn’t afford to get into a fight with someone that even Miriko considered a danger.

“Listen Gojo-”

“So you do know who I am?” He interrupts with a smirk, his blue eyes shining as though he’s proud to know that you know him, despite the fact that in truth you were lying. You nod slowly before he continues, leaning forward. His electrifying blue eyes are close enough to you that you can feel his breath warm on your cheeks. “In that case, let’s do this the easy way.”

Your eyes follow his actions as he lifts a hand, his fingers pulling your sunglasses down off the bridge of your nose. You stand your ground, your jaw clenching visibly. Gojo’s fingers brush your temple as he pulls your glasses away, moving them to hang off the collar of his black jacket in one swift movement.

“So let’s go over this, huh?” He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “A low cursed energy output, and yet you’ve got red eyes that you’re hiding. Now what kind of technique could you possibly have?” His blue eyes narrow, his smirk widening. “But that’s not the case at all, is it?” His voice is dangerously low, coming out as a near-purr. He didn’t seem angry, but rather curious. He was teasing you, playing with his food.

You stay silent, not daring to answer. Let him play with his food, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, nor lashing out at him and giving in to his questions.

“So,” he leans forward with a grin. Your brow twitches at the close proximity as you feel his minty breath on your face, earning a satisfied hum between his words. “Care to tell me ‘bout yourself?”

Do not speak.

You had no plans to admit anything to him, your eyes flickering down to your glasses hanging off his collar, wishing he hadn’t taken them from you. Though they were fairly translucent, they had felt like a line of defense against his questioning that you now lacked.

Gojo’s eyes narrow when you don’t answer, clearly not satisfied that you weren’t cooperating with him. “Let’s look at your options, shall we?” His hand rises close to your face and your eyes flicker towards the digit he has raised. “One, you tell me everything. Two, I drag every last detail out of you. Or three,” he pauses, his smirk disappearing. “I kill you under the guise of an uncooperative curse-user.”

Your mouth opens to try to defend yourself, but your words die in your throat. You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, trying desperately to think of some sort of secret fourth option. When nothing comes to mind and you remain silent, Gojo sighs and leans back with a groan.

“You curse users are never any fun,” he grumbles. To your surprise, he seems oddly bored. Was this all a game to him? Something he couldn’t lose? You grit your teeth, jaw clenching in response to his childish reaction. Who the hell did he think he was?

If he tries to fight, I’ll take over. Do not let him scare you. The Gojo clan has a good reputation, he shouldn’t be unreasonable.

Miriko’s words in your head were the closest thing you had to hope as you watched Gojo lock eyes with the driver. It wasn’t long before the car pulled over and you both stood on the side of a road in the outer edge of Tokyo, the side opposite of where your cabin resided.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” The eerie grin spread across his face. “Or did you want to do this the hard way?”

You take a step back from him. “I’m not here to fight you.” You’re thankful you’re able to keep your voice steady as you speak, but you aren’t sure how long your resilience will last.

“If that’s the case, then let’s start with names. Mine’s Gojo Satoru, but you knew that already,” his sly tone doesn’t do much to ease the tension in that air that could be cut with a knife.

“I’m y/n,” you introduce yourself uncertainly, eyeing the way he holds himself with a sort of nonchalant confidence. “And I’d like my sunglasses back,” you tell him, but he clicks his tongue at your words.

“These?” He asks, unhooking them from his collar to hold them an inch in the air above his hand. Your gaze narrows at the display.

He has the Limitless technique.

The what? You dare to ask Miriko, as though you knew anything about cursed techniques.

It doesn’t matter. Regardless, we won’t be able to do anything to him even if we were to fight. He is our natural counter.

Your eyes had drifted off to the side as you listened to Miriko, returning to face Gojo as you examined the way he curiously eyed you.

“Spacing out at a time like this?” He cocks his head to the side, his frustrating smirk not leaving his lips. “Unless you were talking to someone?” His voice is an octave deeper, a knowing look in his glowing blue eyes.

Your resolve didn’t waver and for that you were grateful. “Talking to who?” You countered, pushing down the growing feeling of anxiety.

“If you don't care to tell me, I’m sure the curse you were talking to will.”

You don’t make a move, standing stiff as a board. Surely he wouldn’t attack you, would he?

You regret blinking, as only a moment later he’s no longer in front of you. Miriko’s instincts kick in, turning and holding your arms up to block the fist full of cursed energy meant to hit you. Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight of your eyes, glowing a deep and eerie red, your hair now silver as your forearms are strengthened with cursed energy nearly as immense as his own. His punch still hits you hard enough to send you flying back into a tree, fracturing wood puncturing your back as you collide with the trunk.

“So she was talking to someone,” he laughs, clearly amused. From where you watched from within your own body, you could only scoff, Miriko’s words of the Gojo family being reasonable enough to make you roll your eyes. “So if she’s a vessel, who does that make you?”

Miriko pushes herself to her feet, rolling her shoulders as she effortlessly heals your wounds. “Who I am will mean nothing to you,” she calmly explains, red eyes burning into Gojo’s. He raises an eyebrow in response. “However I will give you the answers you seek if you cut a deal with me.”

“A deal? You talkin’ a vow or a handshake, Curse?”

“A deal, as you humans do. I do not wish to enter any kind of binding vow with the likes of you, Six Eyes.”

“Ouch, is that all I am to you?” He feigns hurt at the name Miriko had given him, but she doesn’t react. He sighs, clearly no longer amused with the situation. “Alright, I’ll bite.”

“You will leave us alone. You will not speak of us. You will not mention our existence, and I will give you five minutes of our time.”

Gojo crosses his arms, smirking slyly. “That’s it? What kind of curse wants to be left alone?”

Miriko is unphased by his question, standing her ground. “A curse that has been around for far too long.”

If you weren’t paying attention, you may not have noticed the way his smile falters for a split second, doubt flashing in his eyes, but it’s gone before you can think too hard about it.

“Deal,” he agrees, taking a step forward and outstretching his hand. Miriko takes his hand, shaking it. She glances momentarily down at his hand, his Limitless ability off. For a split second, she thinks about using her technique, but the trouble it would cause you both dissuades her. Regardless, it was an awfully reckless move for a sorcerer as strong as his presence alone felt to Miriko. She couldn’t help but wonder what his reasoning behind it was.

“Ask your questions, Six Eyes.”

“What’s your name?” He leans back against a nearby tree, putting a foot up against the tree’s trunk.

“Miriko,” she responds, giving him no more than exactly what he was asking.

“Miriko, nice to meet ya,” his grin returns. “What’s your technique?”

“Death,” she responds, her lips pressed into a thin line. Gojo’s brow twitches as if in disbelief and he straightens himself.

“Awfully strong technique, no?” He questions, his eyes now narrowed and his stupid grin wiped from his lips. It was a somewhat welcome sight over the frustratingly cocky smirk he so loved to display.

“Perhaps,” Miriko agrees. “No more than yours, Six Eyes.”

“Right,” he hums, narrowed eyes observing your features, however Miriko’s expression is unchanging. “Why have I never heard of a curse with your technique?”

“You have,” Miriko says confidently, observing the way a muscle in Gojo’s jaw works and eventually clenches. “Your kind know me by a different name.”

“Care to enlighten me?” He rebuttals quickly, blue eyes boring into your features as he searches for the answer. Miriko’s short and concise responses weren’t everything he had hoped for when he had agreed to her deal, but he had chosen to make a deal with the devil and would live with the consequences.

Miriko took a moment to consider her answer, the wind blowing through your now-silver locks as she eyed the sorcerer in front of her. “Your kind know me as the Grim Reaper.”

“Ha?” Gojo huffs questioningly, grinning at the response. “And here I thought that was just a story.”

“All stories come from somewhere originally, Six Eyes.” A silence falls between the sorcerer and the curse, sizing one another up through the tension that thickened the air between them, but Miriko had no intention of fighting a sorcerer capable of using the Limitless technique. She knew her limits, and she knew you were no fighter regardless. “Your five minutes are up,” she informs him, the glow of your eyes fading as your hair returned to its usual hue.

Gojo’s brow twitched at the sight of your return but as promised, he let out a deep sigh and pulled out his phone to call a cab for you.

–

Drops of water cascaded over the leaves of the plants you so carefully nurtured for your wedding flower business, each one thriving in the environment you had crafted on the outer edges of Tokyo.

The sense of relaxation and ease that the action of watering your plants brought was one that had become very welcome after the encounter you’d had with Gojo Satoru eight months ago. That encounter had changed much of the way you lived. You had moved to a more remote location, a property with a larger yard, a tall fence, and a big and well-trained dog.

Taro, your Rottweiler, you had trained with the express purpose of warning you about Gojo. You had left your sunglasses mostly untouched after the day of the encounter until you’d had the chance to train your new dog to search for him.

Aside from being a great guard dog, you were thankful for his company as well. You didn’t often visit your father due to the danger of your curse, and while Miriko was generally agreeable, you didn’t make a habit of trying to make friends out of fear. Maybe it was cowardly, but you knew Miriko preferred such a life.

Taro didn’t bark. He was a very quiet dog, so when he did begin barking, you knew exactly why. As if on queue, Miriko spoke in your mind to warn you of a cursed energy user nearby. Your gaze followed Taro to the front gate, where you didn’t yet see any figures. He wouldn’t dare after your encounter all those months ago, would he?

Telling Taro to sit, he did so as you opened the gate though his growls never ceased. The sight before you was one to behold. The white-haired sorcerer’s bloodied figure carried the corpse of a face all-too familiar to you, though a face you hadn’t heard tales of for a long time. Long, raven hued hair cascaded from the figure’s head, draping past Gojo’s arms. Blue eyes bored into yours, sending a chill down your spine at the eerie expression he displayed.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone,” your voice was small, but you were grateful you remained firm in your words.

Gojo’s mouth opens, but the words seem to die in his throat. The man you were staring at was not the same man you had met eight months ago and even if for only a split second, you feel a pang of sympathy. Taro’s growls and the growing feeling of anger from Miriko within you swayed your feelings back to one of resentment as he fails to respond.

Before prodding him again, your eyes flicker down to the man in his arms. Quietly observing the figure of none other Geto Suguru, whom you knew to be responsible for more than one incident, including one in Shibuya only a couple of nights ago, hung limp in his arms. His head was split open in such a manner that caused a shiver to crawl up your spine.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, hostility dripping from your voice like water slipping off a flower’s leaves. Gojo’s face is hidden by his hair as he stares down at the man in his arms, his expression hidden.

“I wouldn’t be here if I had anywhere else I could go,” his voice is strangely hoarse, giving you pause as your knuckles turn white as your grip on the gate increases. In another moment of weakness, your pang of sympathy returns, the strange vulnerability he showed tugging at your heartstrings, but Miriko dissuades the thought quickly.

Do not humor him, he holds a very dangerous curse-user. Do not trust him.

Miriko’s reminder causes your eyes to flicker back down to Geto Suguru and your brow furrows. “Get off my property,” you hiss, steeling yourself finally as the reality of the situation sinks in.

“I know we made an agreement, but-” his voice falters as he searches for words. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you go to close the gate but his foot kicks out in time to keep it open. “Wait, please,” he begs, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he was left with no other option but to physically beg something of you. To think this man had played with you like a toy and now he was here asking something of you, it made you as sick as he looked and likely also felt.

Pushing harder against his foot, your eyes locked with one another and you pause. The usual look of mischief and amusement was gone from his eyes, replaced with a very genuine vulnerability, mixed with anger, and even desperation. With a sigh, you finally opened your gate to him.

You could feel displeasure spreading through your body, clearly Miriko’s own emotion being mixed in with yours, and Taro continued growling in small fits. You had trained him to do so, you couldn’t blame him really.

“Are you able to reverse your cursed technique?” Gojo asks, his lips downturned into a frown as he stood uncomfortably within your garden.

“No,” you lie, taking one look at the man in his arms and resolving to being unwilling to do what he was asking.

His blue eyes narrow for a moment, examining yours, before he sighs. “Right,” he hums, swallowing heavily. “But you’re-” he pauses, “Miriko’s the Grim Reaper right, can you at least let him rest?”

Blinking in disbelief, you let out a bitter laugh. “Peace? Gojo he-” you shake your head, “he killed thousands of people.” Your jaw hangs open in disbelief at the request.

“He didn’t-” Gojo stammers over his words as he watches your eyes widen in confusion. “It wasn’t-” he sighs finally, his head hanging. “I know.”

Again you find yourself with your brow knit tightly together as you eye Gojo cautiously. If you agreed, you would be left extremely vulnerable. Very rarely did Miriko enact on her role as a reaper anymore, there were so many curses these days that her mercy was rarely required, but the one moment where you had used her ability to lead a soul to the afterlife, it had left you in an extremely vulnerable state.

Was Gojo someone you could trust with such a thing? Surely not, and yet… Your mind flashed back to when Miriko had noticed he had shaken your hand with no barrier between you. Was that some sort of act of goodwill to ensure he’d have an opportunity like this now? Was he using you? You had no way to be sure.

The only reassurance you had was the genuine look of vulnerability that shone in his azure eyes.

“Is that something you can do?” You sigh, staring off to the side as you wait for Miriko to respond. Holding out your palm, you stare at the mouth full of pointed teeth that appears.

“Yes,” she responds eloquently, though her tone is less than amicable. She knew you had asked aloud to force her into a corner to agree, as she otherwise would have declined.

“Please,” Gojo’s voice is serious and small, uncharacteristically so.

You allow Gojo to set Geto Suguru, who you can only imagine was at one time a friend, on the ground before him as you kneel down opposite Gojo. You shoot him a cautionary glance before setting your hand on Geto’s robed chest.

Gritting your teeth, you shut your eyes as a familiar pain surges through your mind. Being dragged into Miriko’s domain within you held a familiar sight. The dragon’s scales shone in the dimly lit cave as the familiar lapping of souls against the wooden ship broke the silence of the air. Red eyes shone in acknowledgement of your arrival, before turning to face your visitor.

To your surprise, the soul of Geto Suguru didn’t look as you had expected. He looked younger, his hair up in a bun with only a couple of stray strands of hair falling down over his calm features. He had a much thinner build than Gojo, and tired eyes. He looked… kind. Uneasily, you shared a glance with him. He didn’t seem confused, and he was unable to speak in such a state, but still he shot you a smile.

All you could do was blink and watch as Miriko’s tail ushered him towards her, the ship lurching forward. You managed to catch your balance before you could fall over from the sudden movement, only able to watch as the ship approached a light from a hole in the usually dimly lit cave. Quietly standing at the rear of the boat, you observed as Miriko ushered his spirit towards the light as the ship lurched to a halt. The light from above shone for a moment, forcing you to shut your eyes. Blinking them open once again, you were able to see little more than the familiar shape of a ghostly spirit, not the one you had seen before. It was the residuals of Geto Suguru, which collapsed into the river beneath you.

Bright red eyes shone as the serpent turned to face you once again. Locking eyes with her was something you didn’t often do, however her calming and familiar presence wasn’t unwelcome. Despite her title of a curse, you had never considered her as such. Life was lonely, perhaps, but her company made it bearable.

Her silver mane sways at the hint of a breeze as her long muzzle towers over you for a moment. She takes pause before her breath cascades over your figure and you’re blinking as you take in the sun filtering through the leaves.

Removing your hand from Geto Suguru’s body, you lean back and blink to try to reorient yourself within your surroundings. Finally beginning to come to, your gaze rests on Gojo before you, staring at you intently. His blue eyes are filled with questions that you have no intention of responding to.

“It’s done,” you tell him, pushing yourself to your feet as you brush your knees and dress off.

Gojo took a moment to stare at Geto’s remains. You could see from the sadness in his eyes that he had a connection to the man, but you didn’t intend on questioning him and extending this encounter with the Limitless user any longer than you needed to.

The research you had put time into after your initial encounter with the sorcerer had told you all that you needed to know about him. That he was the strongest. The last thing you needed was him showing up at your door any more than he already had.

Slowly, Gojo picks up the body once more and makes his way to your gate.

“No coming back,” you tell him, your voice firm although you had some amount of sympathy for him after the vulnerability he had shown you.

He turns back to you for only a moment, his blue eyes searching yours from over his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Gojo Satoru.”

series masterlist || main masterlist || next chapter

a/n || hello!! this is the first time i've ever posted a fic despite writing dozens of them. i've actually got the first several chapters written but need to do some heavy editing but at the very least you can expect the early chapters relatively quickly. i hope you like it and appreciate any support ♡ also i feel it's worth mentioning because i think it's very funny - i began writing this fic before i read the manga so the fact that reader is similar to another particular character is a complete coincidence lmao. not really sure how that happened but it is a fun little fact.

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oceanfruitsstuff · 5 days ago

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So, I’m in no way a professional here, but I’ve been learning more about writing and storytelling and all that fun stuff and one thing I love about Stranger Things is how they do love triangles—or more, love upside down V’s, that visual always helps me a bit more when I’m trying to make sense of them.

Stranger Things isn’t over yet, they still have a big chunk left to go, so I’m not going to act like anything is set in stone, they might go a completely different direction we know nothing about and that’s totally fine—but if we’re working with what we know up to this point, it’s always been pretty obvious to me what their intentions are if they’re following the normal structure of love triangles.

So let’s say Mike is character A, El is character B, and then Will is character C. Since Stranger Things isn’t a romance story and there is queerness involved, it’s going to be much more subtle then, let’s say, Steve/Nancy/Jonathan. But I’m getting off topic here, what I’m saying is Mike is not the main focus for both characters, in a show or movie that’s revolving around romance, both B and C characters would, usually, have their main focus be A (the character they want to be with) a big thing for me when I’m reading books with love triangles or watching shows/movies, is that if at any point one of the characters (besides character A) has an important arc of finding independence and learning about who they are, you can almost always rule that character out of being part of the “endgame couple”. Not everytime, but almost everytime. So, the second I watched season 4 it was a big “ohhh” moment for me when I saw what they were doing.

Also, if we’re gonna just follow the cliques of love triangles, the “obvious” or maybe first choice/couple, is very rarely going to be the final couple. Again, not always, but it’s extremely uncommon.

We can even do a comparison to the hunger games, it’s obviously a vastly different story, but there is a similarity woven in with the little love triangle they have going on. Katniss’ first choice is not Peeta, and we all know what happens—but the thing that is bringing me to this point, is that they still are almost always together, their plot lines are lined up. Of course it’s different since Katniss is the only POV, but still, no matter what, she winds up, usually, working with Peeta OR trying to find him once he’s taken.

Circling back to Mike and Will, they’ve never been separated, they’re storylines have been continuously woven together, they flew Mike out to Lenora this season just so he would end up working with Will. The only season they’re apart is season one—but, Mike’s goal the entire time and main focus is Will. They bump together because, a lot of the time, they’re focusing on one another.

A writer wants their endgame couples to be displayed together, the want people to like them together and root for them, or really just see them together. Every single other couple on the show (except for Jonathan and Nancy is season 4) are always shoved next together during the main plot. Joyce and Hopper don’t even start chatting about being together until season 3. We all kind of know where it’s headed, but most of their encounters aren’t romantic, there’s a depth to them that makes it somewhat romantic, but it’s not necessarily written to be that way. If you’re writing a story, you want the two characters you plan to be together to have a heavy background, a good rapport with one another, and to be seen together. Whether they’re currently dating or not, you want your audience rooting for them.

With El and Mike, it’s always been so odd the separation they have—because their arcs are not meant to intertwine, they love each other and hold an important relationship in the story, sure, but one of the reasons I’ve always felt strange watching their relationship on screen is because it doesn’t appear their stories are going in the same direction. There is this lack of romantic depth, or honestly even friendly depth, they hold each other at arms length. I think that’s for many reasons, but an important one is that El’s arc is not romance, I think for her character it would be insane if it was. The things she’s been through are crazy, and she’s only just learning who she is and who she wants to be—based on what we saw in the last scene where she’s practically ignoring Mike, we can assume she’s figured out what she wants.

Very very rarely does character A end up with character B. In real life, maybe, in stories, it’s pretty boring and not what people lean towards. Again, the show is not over, they could shift things around, it’ll be interesting to see—but I would be extremely surprised if Will and Mike don’t end up together or atleast are shown to have mutual feelings, purely just based on the simple storytelling structure they’re following.

Anyway I’m sure a million people have already said this, but the writing of how they’re handing Will and Mike is so interesting to me—and obvious if you’re taking away homophobia.

Characters that are meant to be together are usually shown together. If they’re not, that’s when you ask questions on what else might be going on.

Who knows if I know what I’m talking about, that’s just my POV on it all. I love Mike and Will, I’ve always thought they’d be beautiful together, but season 5 will be super exciting to see.

#byler #byler endgame

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separatist-apologist · 6 months ago

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The Thing About Mor

I'm gonna say this and then I'm gonna shut up about it.

I don't think it's necessarily the fandom's fault for the way they read Mor, just as a disclaimer. Nor am I saying you are required to like her. Please reread those sentences before we continue.

The thing about Mor is that she's originally set up to be both a foil to the traditionalism of the Spring Court and a counterpart to Feyre's friendship with Lucien. Feyre is immediately struck by Rhys naming not Cassian or Azriel- who seem terrifying to her- as his second in command, but Mor.

Mor is also placed directly between Cassian and Azriel in what I think was originally supposed to be some kind of love triangle for the three, with the ultimate pairing as Mor and Azriel. I think the narrative of ACOMAF sets Mor and Azriel up as potential mates just waiting on a snapping bond, with Cassian as maybe her first choice given how she slept with him as a teenager.

Throughout ACOMAF, we see Mor as someone who can hold her own against the men in her lives. When they go to Hybern, Mor is the only warrior left standing and is the one who ultimately rescues them. She's also the person Rhys trusts to get Feyre in the Spring Court (ignoring the strange "politics" of why Rhys' second-in-command can break into Tamlins manor but the High Lord can't).

She is ALSO the person who goes to Feyre once Feyre realizes Rhys wasn't honest about the bond, and she's the one who asks "would it really be so bad to join our family?"

I don't know what changed for SJM. I think the nessian of it all ended whatever potential love triangle might have happened with Cassian-Mor-Azriel, and I've heard rumors she was getting a lot of pressure to make her stories more diverse (who was asking SJM, of all people, to tell a compelling queer story?). Regardless, somewhere between ACOMAF and ACOWAR, Mor's trajectory changes.

This is seen so clearly with the rise of Eris who, up until ACOWAR, is an undisputed villain in the story. Not just Lucien's story, but the story as a whole. We're told he holds Jesminda down while Beron beheads her, and he participates in tracking Lucien down with the intent to kill him. He gleefully watched Lucien tortured in the second trial UTM, and is willing to give up Feyre's name to Amarantha IF he knew it.

And in the beginning of ACOWAR, Eris is still the villain. He chases Lucien and Feyre across multiple courts at the behest of his father, presumably to hold Feyre ransom back to Tamlin in exchange for who knows what, and see Lucien executed. Eris's cruelty on the ice sets up a truly cinematic moment for Cassian and Azriel to come swooping in and save the day, and once again highlights our good guys (Lucien especially) and our bad guys.

And I do feel like somewhere in this passage, SJM falls in love with Eris and begins to give him the Rhys treatment at the EXPENSE of Mor. Rhys, who we're told, respects Mor over nearly everyone, unilaterally decides that they're going to trust Eris. There is no discussion to be had here. I think this creates a specific moment for readers to be like, okay well if Rhys did this without talking to Mor, then maybe he doesn't trust her. I don't even think its an explicit thought- but implicitly, whatever Eris shared with Rhys is enough to convince him of Eris's goodness over Mor's hatred. And I think that lends itself to a lot of the "maybe she's lying" theories that come about, ESPECIALLY after ACOSF and Eris telling Cassian that there was more that happened than Mor has shared with them.

Additionally, Mor is supposed to oversee Hewn City which means this deal SHOULD have included her because Kier's Darkbringers are part of her jurisdiction, but unless I misremember, this deal is brokered by Rhys, Eris, and Kier. So Mor's position in Hewn City feels ceremonial-I think this is partly because SJM ascribes to a very narrow definition of masculinity and power, and even though Rhys claims to share it, what she shows us does not match with the telling. Rhys decides what happens in Hewn City and he can make decisions without Mor's input so what's she even doing down there besides acting like decoration?

This is also where, I think, a lot of people get frustrated and confused because the "court of dreamers" are sold to us as a family. And in the confession between Mor and Feyre, we suddenly learn Mor is afraid to come out to the people she claims are her closest family. In our current understanding of the world and what it often means to be queer, your found family are supposed to be your safe people, the people you can be unapologetically yourself with ESPECIALLY when your blood relatives reject you. And here Mor is, telling us she is too afraid to come out to the point she sleeps with men specifically to keep Azriel off her back (unclear how that's helping) AND to not arouse suspicion.

So like- it's not a leap to understand why the fandom writes Mor off as a liar or someone that can't be trusted because SJM has inconsistently applied her personality in order to suit her narrative versus telling a consistent story with consistent characterizations. The fandom is left to string it all together and creative a cohesive story and I do think the problem with that is we don't agree.

Interpretations of the text vary, so on one end you have "I think Mor is lying because the narrative, whether it means to or not, is implying Mor shouldn't be trusted. Rhys no longer trusts her and is keeping secrets for her, and its through Rhys we're told Eris CAN be trusted." and on the other its "Mor isn't responsible for the men around her and is held to a different standard than the other characters who are better fleshed out (in part because they're associated with a man)."

Again, a lot of this is speculation. I don't know what SJM's true original plans were, nor can I speak with 100% authority why she changed them. I can say that SJM is notorious, across all her works, for changing motivations and characterizations to fit her narrative and that ACOTAR feels the most egregious. I don't think she ever had a solid plan for ACOTAR beyond the feysand romance, and everything else has been slapped together based on how she feels in the moment, which leads to a lot of the arguments and frustrations we currently experience around most of the characters, honestly.

#it has been a long time since i wrote anything like this in the fandom- i had to turn the reblogs off the cassian one #I know we all joke that SJM will do whatever she wants regardless of her own set up story but like #i do think it becomes frustrating because it creates all these disjointed pieces #and it causes these arguments that get vented toward other fans vs the real villain (the author)#sjm critical

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talkdutchtome · 1 year ago

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Glitch- chapter seven (18+)

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

warning . . . this chapter contains smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, use of petnames, very slight fdom -blink and you'll miss it-, if you don't want to read the smut there is a border where it starts and finishes so you can skip it )

a/n . . . i think this chapter might make some of you mad but this is a love triangle fic, it's going to be a lil messy, like me. i promise we'll be back to what you like for chapter 8. feedback is always appreciated, i love to read all of your thoughts )

“No”

Max’s words swirled around Y/N’s head long after he had left. She had asked him if he wanted to come in and he just said no. He didn’t say “I’d love to, but I can’t tonight” he didn’t even say “Thanks but I don’t think I want to, let's take things slow” he just said “No”. Quicky followed up by “Okay, Bye”. She was completely dumbfounded, stood outside her flat; as Max's abrupt departure replayed in her mind, each step he took away from her feeling like a punctuation mark to their strange encounter.

The second she found herself in her flat, the uncorked bottle of wine sat on her kitchen side, beckoned to her, and without much consideration, she filled a glass to the brim. The rich red liquid seemed to mirror the swirling thoughts in her mind, each sip a bitter-sweet reminder of the unexpected turn of events. Tonight was going so well; she didn’t understand what went wrong.

She replayed the encounter in her mind, trying to dissect what had just happened. She felt upset, a sting of rejection cutting through her. Yet, there was also frustration—why couldn't Max have communicated his feelings instead of abruptly walking away. If he didn’t want to take it further, obviously she wouldn’t be mad at that, she’s not a monster; but he could of at least spoke to her about it rather than just walking away.

The room was softly lit, and Y/N continued to sip her wine, lost in her own thoughts. The wine was becoming both a friend and an escape, pulling her further into a comforting haze. The recent complications weighed on her, each sip a fleeting attempt to numb the complexities swirling in her mind.

With each gulp, she dove deeper into her contemplations, navigating through the messy tangle of feelings. Life, once simple, now felt like a puzzle missing a few crucial pieces. The familiar sounds of laughter and joy were replaced by a haunting silence, broken only by the occasional clink of the glass against the table and the distant hum of the city outside.

The glass became a conduit for her musings, carrying the weight of her thoughts as she pondered the unexpected twists, the encounters that left her head spinning, and the undeniable shifts in relationships. Everything seemed burdened, complicated. As the night wore on, the glass emptied, and her thoughts grew hazier. Eventually, the weight became too much. She remembered sinking into the cushions of her sofa, the glass slipping from her fingers. Sleep claimed her, the complexities of life blending into dreams until the room was wrapped in a deep, velvety darkness.

The next few days passed, and the day of the first Chelsea game of the season quickly rolled around. As Y/N prepared for the match, the uncertainty surrounding Max lingered in her thoughts. The absence of any communication since the peculiar end to their evening left her grappling with a myriad of unanswered questions. She couldn’t bring herself to messaging him first, after all she was left with quite the bruised ego when he left like he did; so, the silence from Max had become a palpable void, and she started to accept the possibility that she might never receive the answers she sought.

Dressed in her favorite Chelsea shirt, with Mount 19 proudly displayed on the back; she made her way to the staduim, trying her best to push everything she felt about Max down to the pit of her stomach so she could be in the right frame of mind to not only support Mason but the whole team.

At Stamford Bridge, the buzz of anticipation hung in the air. Y/N took her seat in the family box, surrounded by the sea of Chelsea blue. Beside her, Louisa, Ben's girlfriend, struck up a conversation.

"Did you ever find out what was wrong with Mason that night at the gala?" Louisa inquired, her eyes fixed on the pitch as the players warmed up.

Y/N shook her head, her gaze following the familiar figure of Mason on the field. "No, I tried asking the next day, but he wouldn't say anything. It's been a bit weird since then."

As the game kicked off, Y/N found herself immersed in the ebb and flow of the match. The energy in the stadium was electric, and emotions swirled with each pass and tackle. Chelsea was facing Liverpool, a formidable opponent, and every moment felt charged with anticipation.

The clock ticked away, and tension mounted as both teams vied for control. Then, a surge of jubilation erupted through the stands. Mason had scored, his name echoing through the stadium as fans erupted in cheers. Chelsea took the lead, and the scoreboard displayed a triumphant 1-0.

Amidst the celebration, Y/N couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Mason's goal was a bright spot in a narrative that had become increasingly complex, and as the final whistle blew, sealing Chelsea's victory, for once Y/N just let herself feel happy; freeing her momentarily of the stress of day to day life. Her team had just won a very important game, and her best friend was the reason for that.

The vibrant cheers echoed through the stadium as Chelsea celebrated a hard-fought victory against Liverpool. Mason, the star of the match, was awarded the title of man of the match, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as she made her way down to the pitch to assist him with media obligations.

Amid the chaos of jubilant players and buzzing journalists, Y/N found Mason, his face adorned with a triumphant smile. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, offering a congratulatory kiss on his cheek. The elation of the win permeated the air as they navigated through the sea of celebrations.

Once Mason had spoken to seemingly every media outlet in the UK and was ready to head to the changing rooms, the rest of the team had been and gone. Anticipating this, Mason invited Y/N to come in with him as he got ready rather than her waiting outside for him.

Mason was midway through changing when Y/N decided to seize the quiet moment and address the lingering tension from the gala. Maybe there would have been a better time to do that rather than when Mason was stood shirtless only wearing a pair of football shorts, but Y/N was never one for picking her moments well.

"Mason, what was wrong with you the other night? You seemed so sad." she ventured, her tone a mix of firmness and concern.

Mason, in his usual deflective manner, offered a unconvincing, vague explanation about being stressed. But Y/N, remembering the promise they made after their tumultuous encounter in Spain, was determined to dig deeper.

"Come on, we promised each other after Spain that we would be more open," she reminded him, the charged atmosphere subtly drawing them closer.

He glanced at her, the defensive facade momentarily faltering. The seconds ticked by, intensifying the electric tension between them. Y/N, her voice now a gentle yet insistent whisper, pressed on.

"Tell me, Mason. I need to understand," she implored, their faces now only inches apart. As he sighed, wrestling with his internal turmoil, Y/N's hand found his, pulling him back towards her. Their proximity became palpable, both aware of the unspoken emotions lingering in the air.

"It was hard, okay?" Mason finally admitted, breaking the silence. "Seeing you with Max, all close and flirty. It messed with my head."

The confession hung in the air, a vulnerable admission. Y/N, her voice nothing more than a whisper, continued her quest for understanding.

"Why would that be hard for you?"

Mason, caught between the desire to retreat and the need for honesty, hesitated. Y/N, sensing the gravity of the moment, held onto his hand, their connection unspoken but profound. Their eyes locked, and Mason slowly, almost hesitantly, began to lean down, his eyes never leaving hers and his hands coming up to cradle her face. Time seemed to stretch, the anticipation building with each passing second.

Then, all at once, his lips met hers in a kiss that held the weight of unspoken emotions. It was a collision of feelings, a dance of two souls navigating the uncharted territory of their connection.

As their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, it was as if the world around them slowed down. Mason's touch was gentle, almost cautious, as if he was testing the waters of Y/N's response. His lips moved against hers with a delicate grace, and for a moment, the kiss hung in the air like a fragile connection.

But as Y/N's hands found their way into Mason's hair, threading through the strands, the nature of the kiss shifted. The softness gave way to a growing passion, a shared desire that couldn't be contained. Mason, feeling the response from Y/N, allowed himself to be pulled into the depths of the kiss. It became more than a simple meeting of lips; it turned into a dance of longing and unspoken emotions.

Their connection deepened, and the kiss became more fervent, more desperate, as if they were trying to convey all the unspoken words and unexpressed feelings through the intimacy of the moment and quickly things progressed with Y/N breaking their contact to pull her shirt over her head, leaving her stood there in just a Chelsea blue bra and skirt she wore to the game.

For the first time since he kissed her, Y/N made eye contact, gone were his soft, honey coloured eyes, replaced by dark orbs staring down at her. It was like he was trying to take a mental image of the woman standing in front of him, lips swollen and parted, very slightly panting from the breathlessness that came from kissing him.

A second passed where the pair just stood in front of each other, almost as if they were giving each other one last chance to back out before things went beyond the point of no return. The silence was deafening and after a beat they reattached themselves to each other, with Mason pulling her onto him as he backed up onto a bench and sat down, bringing her with him onto his lap. His lips finding her collarbone as his hands grabbed her ass. The way his expert lips sucked and nibbled her neck sent shockwaves through her body and she found herself grinding herself against his lap, desperate for anything that would help the dull ache coming from between her legs, eliciting a low moan from the man beneath her.

It was evident the effect that Y/N was having on Mason from the growing hardness that she could feel under her, and when she removed herself off of his lap and dropped down to her knees Mason had thought he had died and gone to heaven. For the first time since Mason had kissed her, one of them spoke, “Is this okay?” she asked him, her hands hovering just above the place where he needed her the most, prompting him to nod his head ferociously. “Yeah it’s good”

With that conformation, Y/N settled herself between his legs on the floor and began to place soft barely-there kisses down his stomach until she reached the waistband of his shorts. Mason was squirming, she hadn’t even touched him yet, but she seemed to have full control of him, something he had never experienced before. The second that Y/N’s hands went to lightly tug at his shorts, Mason was lifting himself of the bench, allowing her to pull down his shorts and underwear in one go.

The sight of Mason’s dick slapping his stomach as his shorts were pulled down was one to behold. Y/N would be lying if she said she had never imagined this, put one thing she never considered was that he would be this big. She watched the way it throbbed in time with his heartbeat, the way a bead of precum spilt from his tip. And then in a move that made Mason whine, she placed her hands at the base of his dick, and darted her tongue out to catch the droplet. The taste of him was musky, almost sweet; and the most addictive thing she had ever experienced. She went in again, very slowly placing her mouth around his tip and swirling her tongue around it.

“Oh fuck Y/N yo-” Mason’s voice was deeper than she had ever heard as he called out for her, but when she took him further in her mouth, his voice gave out. His hands found her hair, grabbing in into a makeshift ponytail as she continued to bob her head up and down on his dick, swirling her tongue as she did so.

It was becoming all too much for Mason, the sight of his best friend on her knees for him, making him feel this good. He quickly found himself close to cumming, but not wanting this to be over, he used his grip on her hair to gently pull her off of him.

“That felt so good baby, but I don’t want to cum yet” he told her when he caught sight of her pouting at the loss of contact.

“I need to be inside of you Y/N, need to know how you’d feel squeezing tight against me” His words were sinful, and they made her desperate for him. He stood up, grabbing her hand to bring her up from her knees to before gesturing at her to sit down in the place he had vacated. Then he dropped to his knees, placed her legs over his shoulder and moved the fabric of her skirt out of the way, letting him see her soaked through panties.

He dived in, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on her clothed pussy, running his finger ever so gently across her, before hooking it under her underwear and pulling them off. The sight of her cunt, glistening and wet made him again, wish he could take photos with his mind. Never wanting to lose this image for so long as he lived.

“Please Mase” Y/N spoke, her voice breathy and desperate.

Mason didn’t need to be asked twice, bringing his mouth to her, licking a long strip across her slit before attaching his lips to her clit. The way he sucked at and nibbled her sensitive bud made her see stars. And when he brought his hand up to start pumping his fingers inside of her whilst still attacking her clit with his mouth, she quickly found herself close to the edge. His expert fingers curving up to her, making her legs tremble and her toes curl.

“Oh Masey, I’m so close please don’t stop” she whined in between heavy breaths. At her words, Mason sped up his actions, bringing her closer and closer to cumming until she finally reached her climax with a squeal, trapping Masons head between her legs as she squeezed them together in the sheer exstacy she was feeling.

Once she had released her grip on the man's head, he came up to kiss her, the kiss was needy and desperate, and she could taste herself on his tongue. It was utterly filthy, and she never wanted it to end. If she could, she would stay in this moment with Mason forever, wrapped up in him and their pleasure, nothing else. Nothing complicated or uncomfortable, just simply pleasure.

Mason pulled himself off of her lips and took his place back on the bench, swiftly pulling her onto his lap. His manhood nudging itself against her warm core. His lips reattached themselves to her neck, suckling and biting; leaving marks peppered against her skin. He pulled back and admired his work, admired how good her skin looked littered with his marks, the way it made her look like she was his, she was only his.

“I’m going to fuck you now, is that okay?” Mason said, reaching for his hard dick beneath her, pumping it in his fist, prompting Y/N to nod her head frantically, desperate for him. “No baby I need words, tell me you want this” He spoke again, wanting to be sure that this is what she wanted, wanting to be sure that she wouldn’t regret this.

“I want this, please Mason I want this so bad” she told him, becoming desperate, her wet cunt clenching around nothing in anticipation.

So, Mason did what she asked, and lined up his cock to her pussy, gripped her hips and brought her down onto him; strings of moans and cries falling from both of their mouths as he began to stretch her. Wanting to take control, Y/N placed her hands on Masons chest and began to ride him, grinding down onto him after each bounce. Mason was quickly becoming unglued, the way that that best friend bounced on his dick, clenching around him made him go crazy.

Y/N quickly found herself becoming closer and closer to the edge, and when Mason started to rub circles on her clit, she fell apart. Calling out for the man beneath her as she came on his dick, her cunt squeezing him tight. The sight of Y/N reaching climax meant Mason was not far behind. He spilled out inside of her, filling her up with his cum as he kissed her deeply, moaning into her mouth.

For a second, he stilled inside of her, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath. She kissed him one last time before getting up off of him, feeling his cum run down leg as she did so. She tried to find something to say, anything to say; but she came up with nothing. What could she say? What did this mean? The cloud of lust had dissipated and the gravity of what just happened began to sink in.

After they had come down from the high of the moment before, the air hung heavy with an unspoken tension. As they both processed what had just transpired, a palpable awkwardness settled between them. They found themselves in a silent ballet of getting dressed and composed, each movement filled with uncertainty. The room seemed to echo with the weight of the unspoken. In a fragile quiet, they avoided eye contact, unsure of what to say or how to navigate the aftermath of their unexpected moment together. The atmosphere became a canvas painted with uncertainty, the seconds ticking away in awkward silence.

It was in this vulnerable moment that Ben casually strolled into the changing room, unwittingly disrupting the delicate balance that lingered in the air. "Where've you two got to?" he asked, sensing that something unusual had occurred. Mason responded a little too quickly, "Just got to talking. Lost track of time."

Ben eyed them with a confused look, sensing there was more to it but deciding not to pry. "Well, we're going out for a few drinks to celebrate the win. You two coming?"

Mason nodded, "Yeah, I'll come."

Y/N, still caught in her own thoughts, didn't immediately respond. Ben noticed her distraction and asked, "What about you, Y/N? Coming for a celebratory drink?"

She hesitated, glancing at Mason. "I, uh, I've got some work to do," she started, realizing it was a flimsy excuse.

Ben raised an eyebrow, "Work? On a match day? Come on, just one drink."

Caught in the moment and not wanting to draw more attention to herself, Y/N reluctantly agreed, "Fine, just one drink."

The bar buzzed with celebration as the team and their partners reveled in the victory. However, amidst the cheerful atmosphere, an undeniable tension lingered between Mason and Y/N. It wasn't the palpable anger like last time; instead, it felt like an uncharted territory of discomfort, as if both were uncertain of how to address the recent shift in their relationship.

Y/N found herself sitting in a sea of voices, yet she remained silent, her gaze fixed on her drink, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavily. Ben, ever the most observant yet oblivious man in the room, couldn't help but notice a string of subtle marks on Y/N's neck, a telltale sign of a love bite. With a mischievous grin, he couldn't resist teasing her.

He grinned, "Looks like someone had a good time. Max, huh? You guys enjoy yourselves?"

The question hit the room like a sudden chill, drawing Mason's attention. His jaw tightened, and he clasped his glass a bit more firmly, an expression of annoyance flickering across his face. Reece, seated nearby, picked up on Mason's reaction, his eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.

Y/N chuckled awkwardly, attempting to diffuse the situation by offering a half-hearted explanation. "Oh, that's just a burn from my hair straightener."

Ben, persistent in his teasing, pressed further, noting, "But you have naturally straight hair, don't you?"

Y/N squirmed under the spotlight, feeling the discomfort escalate. "Well, I straighten it every day," she mumbled, her attempt at normalcy faltering. Before Ben could continue his line of inquiry, Y/N's phone rang, offering a timely escape from the awkward conversation. She quickly grabbed her phone, signalling a temporary reprieve from the scrutinizing gazes and the unspoken tension between her and Mason.

The night air felt cool against Y/N's skin as she stepped outside and glanced at her phone, revealing Max's name on the screen. She felt her stomach drop at the sight of his name across her screen; she had accepted that she wouldn’t hear from him again. Hesitating for a moment, she considered not answering, still stung by the abrupt way he left.

Eventually, she sighed and pressed the answer button. "Hi," she greeted cautiously, uncertainty lacing her voice.

"Can we talk?" Max's voice, though warm, carried an undertone of hesitation.

Y/N swallowed, the remnants of hurt and confusion lingering. Nevertheless, she nodded silently, a tentative "yes" escaping her lips.

As Max began to unravel his thoughts, Y/N listened, her emotions swaying with each word. "I'm sorry," he confessed, a heavy sigh preceding the admission. "I panicked that night. I've been bouncing around, one meaningless nightstand after another, and I don't want us to be like that. All I wanted was to stay with you that night, but I want more than just a moment. I want us to be more than that. These feelings make me uncomfortable and weird, and I'm so unsure about everything in life. Except for one thing – I'm sure I want you."

Tag list-

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superkooku · 7 days ago

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I just finished reading The strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and what a ride that was !

While reading, I quickly realized how much of a disadvantage we, as modern readers, are in because we already know the plot twist. Just in case, by some miracle, someone reads my post and doesn't know the twist : take the book and have fun, avoid any discussion about it before chapter 9 or 10.

At least, it allowed for an interesting second reading : I could spot every detail and hint because I already knew the answer. Still, the mystery itself is worth reading it blind.

Seriously, I really like how the book built up the cases in a satisfying way, with multiple hypotheses that we could make, characters worrying and making up stuff, potential blackmailing and Jekyll being seen as this innocent victim/unwilling accomplice at first, etc... and really, there's no way to guess the answer because of the different appearances and red herrings.

Readers were like the people of London, pitying Jekyll while hoping that Hyde gets caught, as if that isn't exactly what he intended.

Then, we have all this section in the end about Jekyll explaining everything in detail, slowly piecing back every part of the puzzle together and I also like how he describes his psyche and desires. His motivations are interesting and fundamentally human. The book is fascinating to a degree that pop culture never could replicate because they take the very human repressed vices and desires behind Hyde's existence to replace it with typical monster stuff.

Anyways, I love this book and would love you guy's opinion on it :3

The twist I'm talking about below the "read more section". Spoiler alert about something probably everyone knows.

Of course, Jekyll and Hyde are two facets of the same man. It's also interesting how Jekyll isn't 100% good but just a complete human, since the transformation releases his impulsions.

I just like the reasoning behind Hyde's appearance and existence and wanted to ramble about it, then the disastrous consequences of his actions. The psychological aspect and the last chapter are the highlights of this book.

The human part is, I'll highlight it again, quite realistic, even though the potion and transformation are obviously not. Part of his motivations, for exp, were social pressure and even him being exhausted after tough studies but never managing to have fun or indulge in his pulsions. ESPECIALLY in victorian London.

I even prefer the book to the musical, since there isn't that weird love triangle subplots (though the ladies' voice were nice to listen to, imo) and the story is better written. Though I listened to the musical while reading the book, because it's one of my favorites after Epic.

That said, the fact that Hyde pushed a girl on the sidewalk is considered a heinous crime by everyone (even Jekyll himself) will never stop being hilarious.

#the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #book recommendations #henry jekyll #edward hyde #not a reblog #ramblings

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evilpenguinrika · 6 months ago

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Okay so I had another thought about Descendants Rise of Red

Under read more cuz it's gotten a tad long. Also spoilers.

Throughout the movie, I legit thought that Uliyana was a red herring with the whole horrible prank on Bridget that made her turn from a sweet girl into a tyrannical leader because of what Ella said about it when QoH was staging the coup.

Like I DON"T KNOW to me it felt like they were setting up Ella as the person who actually did the prank (maybe against her will or was just part of a group that decided to do it and she just stayed quiet and went along with it despite not vibing with the prank at all).

And then we got introduced to Uliyana and her group and like they very clearly obviously had her set up as the one responsible (even though I was still under the impression that she was still a red herring and it was actually Ella)

But no

It... It was Uliyana

I felt like the writers had such a perfect opportunity to dive just a little deeper into the complexities of high school drama and high school cliques and teenagers. Because yeah, teenagers can be so incredibly cruel and so incredibly mean. And like, I kinda also assumed it was like your typical dumb love triangle bs with Bridget Ella and Charming as well and maybe that's why Ella did the prank idk. Like the two girls are interested in him but it's also a little more apparent that Charming is interested in Bridget and maybe Ella got jealous. And with how horrible her home life is, she just wanted something for herself for once and had a horrible lapse in judgment in playing a mean prank on Bridget.

And like if you think about it, how horrifying is it to discover your one and only friend stabbed you in the back and humiliated you for selfish reasonings (or maybe other reasonings) and that's how she became the QoH, which could tie back into that song about how love ain't it or whatever it was called, like it would further emphasize just why QoH is the way that she is and why she finds the notion of love and trusting humans/humanity so asinine because she had something horrible happen to her, a trust and betrayal, that has since hardened her heart.

Idk if this made any sense I'm just word vomiting at this point

like IDK THEY HAD A PERFECT SET UP. ULIYANA WAS LIKE A CLEAR RED HERRING (kinda like first movie with snatching of the wand and ppl thought it was Mal but nope it was Jane. See? Red herring. Kinda. Probably.) like it was an obvious choice but then the reveal that it wasn't Uliyana would have been juicy

Oh, I also wished they had more of a clear consequence of time travelling at the end. Like I was holding my breath the entire time anticipating some sort of time-travel consequence

But

There was none

Which makes no sense because when you time travel and change the timeline, there's gonna be consequences. It's sort of an important story beat to have (one example I can think of right now is the first Life is Strange game with Max's time travelling powers and how the more she uses her powers, the more fuckery shit happens where you either watch your best friend die to save an entire town or sacrifice an entire town to save your best friend). I wish they gave us something, because then it would definitely help set us up for the next movie since apparently people are saying Rise of Red is supposed to be a two parter? Or maybe not have it so blatantly obvious but still have something there to let us know "oh, something ain't right" (like I get QoH having that drastic change is already like its own thing, but idk give us more. I want more.)

ANYWAYS again, idk, just word vomiting don't mind me

#eprika rambles #disney descendants #descendants #descendants rise of red #descendants spoilers #rise of red spoilers #ror spoilers #i wonder if anyone's written a fix-it fic yet lmao #also can i just say that there were so many scenes where I thought Bridget/Ella were gonna smooch or Red/Chloe were gonna smooch #like the chemistry they have with their respective people (Bridget/Ella and Red/Chloe) had me on the edge of my seat lmao #but also also it's the red/blue ship trope sorry i am Weak To That I love it

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starskytohutch · 7 months ago

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STARSKY VS HUTCH in season 4 is a really weird episode… because the entire episode? Just feels like Hutch trying to use Kira to make Starsky jealous. Or like he’s repressing things about either personal insecurities, or Starsky (wether that be platonic, romantic, or almost being jealous of Starsky as a person). It doesn’t even really feel like Hutch likes Kira, but rather wants her to fill something within him

“We’ve got starsky to consider”

“What about starsky”

The scene that particularly gets me is when Starsky admits he’s jealous of Hutch, snd all of a sudden Hutch gets happy, his happiness doesn’t come from Kira but from Starsky being jealous. It almost like validation that Starsky thinks he capable of that or that Starsky thinks of him in such a high regard or on that same playing field. But as soon as Starsky admits he loves her, his face drops, he’s upset that Starskys in love with her. And when going to Kira’s house, again, he’s not upset that Kira’s in love with Starsky but upset that Starsky in love with Kira. Am I crazy? Or like do you guys kinda feel my point? Maybe? No?

The way he is completely ready to just ditch her as soon as she says she loves starsky. He’s like “ok, yeah, that’s that.” But until he realizes she’s playing a game and he can too, does he give in… like for Starsky this feels a lot more like a genuine one on one relationship but for Hutch this is a consideration of Starsky and a reflection for himself. He just allows Starsky to beat him up too- Kira thinks theirs two sides, Starsky thinks his love is between him and Kira alone, and Hutch just thinks about Starsky and what he can do to make this about him and Starsky.

Very strange episode- how do you all feel about it? I feel it’s saying something about Hutch a lot more then the surface level. I think starsky through out the entire show is a very loyal, personal, romantic guy, so when watching this episode, I feel a lot more volume about Hutch and his own character and what exactly this reveals about him. He feels insecure, like he’s using his “player” style to avoid confronting his own personal problems, like he can’t help himself.

ALSO THE ENITRE FUCKING ENDING!???? Choosing each other over anything? Like getting over this petty dispute!?!? I just feel their is so much to over analyze, interpret, and dissect in this episode. (Maybe I’m crazy and reading into things, but it’s really fun to look at this episode through different lenses) I don’t have the time nor the intelligence to do it- but I just find this episode intriguing!!!!

ALSO ALSO ALSO!!!! At the very end scene- they wore matching outfits. And had specific lines to say to Kira to reject her. So they resolved this WAY before meeting her, they were like 4 steps ahead of her? So they fully met? With Kira? Just to rub it in her face? That they would prefer each other to a love triangle… baffling. Just baffling.

#starsky and hutch

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madame-fear · 2 years ago

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okay off brand but could i request some helaena x reader x jace where helaena and jace both have a crush on very easily flustered reader and come up with a game on who can make her blush the most because they both just think she's so cute like that and she isn't picking up on their hints?

thank your amira bby ily mwah ♡♡♡

*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 .ೃ࿐

— ☆ amira speaks : BABYYY omg i loved this sm and your other requests too ahhhh 😩 I hope these 4.0k words are worthy of your reading, and that it's what you expected! Enjoy your reading babeee! 🥰💕 — summary : [ — ✧ request ] — word count : 4.0k

— pairing : helaena targaryen x reader x jacaerys velaryon — genre : fluff, love triangle (ig???)

Being member of a House that was close allies with both House Targaryen and House Velaryon implicated you were well acquainted with them, and the members of the respective Houses. Especially, Princess Helaena Targaryen, and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.

Both of them, out of their two Houses, were the ones you mostly had a good, close relationship with. Always finding yourself going to one of them whenever you were drowning yourself in the depths of boredom, giving one another book recommendations; or perhaps, staring and cheering for Jace when he took swordtraining lessons, or embroiding together with Helaena.

Whatever you did with any of the two of them, never failed to make you laugh your soul out, dumbfoundedly smile, or even, have the entirety of your face flustered by a mere sincere, kind compliment to you by one of them.

Unbeknownst to you, having such an unbreakable bond with them also had the perks — if you could call it that way — of them taking a fervid liking for your graceful, timid self in a more than friends way. Of course, the way they stared at you for too long, treated you particularly different than the others, and even went as far as always gifting you things not only for the sole purpose of seeing you get flustered, but as well as to steal your attention from the other, was no secret at all.

The liking they had equally taken for you was evident, even they had already figured that they both fancied you in the same manner. And having spoken to one another about the way they both felt for you several times without you realising, they silently fought against one another to catch your attention. However, it wasn't clear for you.

Strangely, you were oblivious, even if you had spent so many nights wondering whether or not the Seven would somehow present to you a clear indication that they reciprocrated the newly discovered feelings you had for both of them. You constantly consumed the crumbs of the memories of when they spoiled, or complimented you in s sweet manner, yet you were fogged by the cloud of uncertainty to the point you couldn't notice both of them were stupidly mesmerised by you.

Having an upcoming family dinner celebration hosted by King Viserys where he had invited Rhaenyra's family and your House to King's Landing, both Jacaerys and Helaena saw the perfect opportunity to come up with a little secret love game that only they would know of. The game would consist of taking advantage of knowing how you were of ease to get flustered, by trying to see who would be the one making you blush the most, and see if you'd finally pick on their hints as you hadn't caught none of them yet. But, they are certainly not the type to give up.

You quietly sat at the end of the large, wooden dining table at King's Landing, fidgeting with a golden cup of wine you were served. Your eyes sheepishly scanned the way some members of your own House chatted with House Targaryen, and laughed about stupid remarks. The flames of the candle placed to vastly lit up the hall highlighted your beauteous features gracefully, along with some golden lines and hints sewed upon the entirety of your dress, plus the very own jewellery you wore. And of course, Jacaerys and Helaena appreciated the sight.

Standing in front one another silently, they briefly darted their gaze to stare at each other in their eyes — giving a knowing stare. Their little game had already begun the time you placed foot once again in King's Landing, but it was a matter of who was the daring one to make a first step, and initiate the competition to make you fluster the most.

Before Helaena could do, or say, anything to draw your attention to her, Jacaerys took a step ahead and stood up from his seat. The oceanic blue eyes of the princess silently remained fixed on Jace eith a hint of impotence, as he cautiously approached you with gentle, nearly quiet footsteps.

“(y/n)?” with your name rolling off smoothly from his lips, Jace brought your attention back to reality, making you dart your gaze towards him. His hand was extended to you, with his other one hidden right behind his back, and an endearing smile shaping on his rosy lips. “May I have the honours of taking such a graceful Lady as yourself to dance with me?” jacaerys had no true effort in charming you with his sweetened words. The statement was true for him, allowing his tongue to work by itself without thinking too much about what he'd say to you in order to make you feel flustered.

As expected, Jace's proposal accompanied by the gentleness of his words were just enough for your cheeks to become of a notorious rosy tint, partly opening your lips as to answer. “I-I, well, uhm–” mere stammering came out of you, rather stupidly. Your heart pounded as if it would beat right out of your chest, but you managed to recompose yourself before you made any more of a fool out of yourself. “Y-Yes of course, you may, and I'd be the most delighted.” you responded, placing his hand on top of his, and standing from your seat.

Jace took a firm, yet soft grip on your hand, walking you towards the centre of the dining hall. A prideful smirk was drawn on his lips, shooting a cocky gaze to Helaena, whom silently huffed to herself at seeing how he had made a move first before she could do anything — leaving her to anxiously fidget with her cuttlery, quietly planning about what her next move would she make in order to make you get even more flustered than Jacaerys had left you. “You look delightful tonight, (y/n). Everytime I see you, it seems you get prettier.” was heard Jace telling to you, flirting as to see your fluster cutely increase. The giggles that spurred out from your lips soon filled the hall, not taking too long in making it obvious that his compliments made you feel shyly adorable around him.

Knowing how you became easily flustered and giggly whenever someone gifted you anything, a plan came to her mind — making her bite her inner cheek to retain a smirk from forming.

The very next day, your House was to remain on King's Landing for an entire week, hence you decided to spend the rest of your time by exploring around the Red Keep. And fortunately, that meant being able to spend more time with both Jace and Helaena, to which you couldn't take them off your mind no matter how hard you tried to focus on something else.

With gentle footstepping through the corridors, you made your way towards the grand library from the Red Keep to curiously take a look at some of the books it contained. Your eyes were focused on the floor, not really looking at the path you were taking, simply allowing your feet to take you to wherever they knew was the way towards the library.

As your eyes were mindlessly wandering around the floor, you could sense — and hear — someone walking towards you, mimicking your own soft footsteps. “(y/n)!” a voice called, suddenly stopping it's path, making you lift your sight. “How lovely it is to see you around here.” it was none other than Helaena herself, whom seemed to be conveniently walking right by your same path.

“Helaena.” you greeted back in a murmur, trying to contain the goofy grin that was going to draw into your lips. “I could say the same, actually.” you replied, trying to hide the enthusiasm. “I was just heading to the library, to explore the vast amount of books I heard it has. A-And you?” trying to keep up a conversation with her without stuttering or being awkward was no easy task for you, but you managed to keep up as if you weren't dying from the nerves of having her graceful presence right in front of you. A tiny smile grew on he, obviously noticing your cheeks already turned faintly pinkish.

“And I was actually just looking for you, (y/n).” she spoke softly, yet vehemently — doing her best effort to fluster you, her hands clasped together in front of her body. Both your eyes greatly widened with surprise, blinking several times in surprise. “M-Me? Oh, what for?” you asked a bit stupidly, dumbfoundedly grinning, feeling your cheeks become warmer. Her previous small smile growing on her lips became wider, some giggles even escaping her beauteous lips.

“Yes. I have brought a little gift for you. Hopefully, you'll like it.” she stated. Her hands began unclasping, opening them, slowly revealing that she held a small golden locket on her hands. Jacaerys wasn't there to personally see the way you would blush your soul out at her actions, but she saw the opportunity of making you feel absolutely flustered, and took it right away.

Your eyes gazed down to curiously look at the necklace she held for you. With widen eyes, an ear to ear smile fully formed on your lips, provoking twinkles in your eyes. “Do you know what's it made of, (y/n)?” she inquired, so you would look into her face. As expected, your face had slowly began taking a scarlet glint slowly spreading across your face as you shyly shook your head in response to her question. She was quite proud of provoking such reaction, and wished Jace could be there to see her cause such feelings on you.

“It's made of pure Valyrian steel.” as she briefly explained it to you, you gently took part of the necklace in your hands, admiring at it. From the necklace, it hung a beautiful, shining ruby. A mesmerising piece of jewellery to appreciate. “True Valyrian jewellery. And I thought you'd be perfect to hold a piece of jewellery such as this, lovebug.” she knew exactly how to form little cobwebs of the right words to make you blush, and it worked.

A toothy grin appeared on your lips, spurring a timid giggle. “Oh, Helaena... You shouldn't have. This is too precious.” you retorted. A notorious warm, crimson fluster was spread all across your face, overwhelmed with the special attention you had been receiving from both Helaena and Jacaerys — the fluster being too evident for the Targaryen princess to possibly ignore it. A proud grin wasn't contained, knowing exactly what she'd do next as to show off to Jace the way she had got to make you blush even more than he did. “Of course, you are worthy of carrying it.” she continued, her voice as sweet sounding as always.

“Let me put this on your precious neck for you.” with every word that spurred from her lips, the more giggly and timid you seemed to get around her. She knew exactly how to fluster you, and she was going to use her knowledge against you — and, against Jace, quite obvliously.

Without saying a word, you turned around as your hand delicately moved your hair aside from your neck — leaving it resting on your side — and her hands began moving to place the necklace on you. “You carry such a sweet scent with you, my humbug. Almost, like vanilla and honey...” at her words, your breath hitched slightly with a bit of fangirl enthusiasm, nibbling on your lower lip as to hide to goofy, toothy grin that would rapidly grow on you. The way her hands delicately grasped your skin as she helped you put on the collar sent shivers down the entirety of your body.

She helped you place the necklace on your neck, and then clicked it shut very delicately. For a few moments, she stood there pretending to not be able to properly click shut the necklace as to intoxicate herself with your honey scent. It was truly endearing, and it was suitable you. A type of scent that she already identified to be yours.

“Now, turn around. I want to see how beautiful you surely look with it.” at her words, without hesitating, you quickly did as she told and you turned around to face her. Her blue eyes were first fixed on your face, smirking to herself upon seeing that what she had in mind was already working. And there was even more to come, as she was willing to win the little childish game she had agreed to play with Jace — both having a notorious liking and fondness for your fluster.

You remained nibbling on your lower lip timidly, fidgeting anxiously with your fingers as you felt her intense stare scanning you, up and down. Gods, you were so beautiful; especially when you were in such shy, flustered state. “You look mesmerising, (y/n). How can you be so beautiful?” she stated, her gaze not leaving your body as she leisurely leaned closer to you, beginning to play leisurely with a strand of your hair, only to then tuck it right behind your ear. “I knew the necklace would highlight your features. But either way, anything you wear suits you more than well.” her compliments couldn't help but make you feel overwhelmed with a certain keen shyness, willing to hear more from her. Your cheeks felt already warm, accompanied by a slight goosebump forming on your body.

One of her hands went to take hold of the ruby that hung from the Valyrian necklace she gifted you, observing every single inch of it. Her smirk remained, knowing how she would let Jace know about how flustered she managed to get you. “Why don't you show Jacaerys, once you encounter him, about what I gifted you?” her blue eyes lifted their sight to stare into you with a kind look. “I am certain he'll be as delighted as I am to see you wearing it.” helaena knew exactly what she was doing, and she was most definitely proud of the state she had dragged you in with her sweetening words.

The mere mention of the idea of Jacaerys being mesmerised with how precious you looked with the piece of Targaryen jewellery Helaena gifted you worsened the way you felt the butterflies fluttering their wings around your heart, stupidly not being able to contain the toothy grin dancing around your lips. “You're right, Hel! I will most definitely do that once I find him.” your body swiftly, and in a barely noticeable manner rocked to the sides like a little girl with her schoolcrush. The Seven had blessed you by having Jace and Helaena constantly spoiling and giving you their attention.

“I should not keep you any longer, my lovebug. You should go to the library, and I'll meet you later, if you wish.” she responded, placing her delicate lips on your cheek, planting a kiss. Her rosy lips grasped your skin ever so gently, feeling the warmth plastered in your cheeks that soon took over all your body.

“Y-Yes, of course. We shall.” you retorted, being absolutely dumbfounded at seeing how both Jace and Hel seemed to be constantly trying to win over your attention with small, little details — but you rapidly dismissed it, not thinking too much about it, and simply allowing yourself to enjoy the way they both seemed to focus solely on you.

And even afterwards during your remaining short walk to the library, and already being there exploring the books it contained, you never stopped thinking about it for one second.

The following days after several encounters between Jace and Helaena, you had noticed that they often shared little knowing looks between each other whenever you were around them. Hell, you even noticed one of them approaching you and shower you in compliments, while the other one silently huffed or quietly sneered before approaching you as well afterwards.

Their attention was overwhelming for you. But, deliciously overwhelming. Satisfyingly overwhelming; realising how much you had always craved — and fantasised — their entire attention. It was strange for you, though. Noticing how much they had been constantly poking on your fluster triggers, it made you doubt at late hours of the night while trying to sleep in your guest quarters whether or not they fancied you as much as you fancied them, but another part of you was telling you it was all a little trick of your own mind, playing around your feelings and making you fall even harder for both of them.

It seemed that their attempts of not only making you intensely fluster with their compliments and actions to silently savour such sight, but as well to let you know those feelings you fervently felt for both of them were reciprocated didn't fully work. It was unbeknownst to you, that like two little children, they constantly fought to get the best blush out of you and show you they fancied you back. Plus, they both got to equally fluster you, being there no particular winner.

To which, they had to toss aside such silly little game of them, and come to an agreement to one another by deciding to do something that would impress you, and allow you to spend time with them at the same time.

And so they did.

When returning to your chambers after exploring the grand library and vast gardens like you always did everyday to either read something or even sew quietly, there was small, and beautifully handwritten note on top of your bed.

“Come and meet us in the gardens before you go to bed.” it read on the note.

A keen, wide ear-to-ear smile didn't take long to appear once you had finished to read such letter. You didn't want to be too enthusiastic or overwhelm yourself by getting drowned in a pool of your own thoughts, but you knew it had to be from Jacaerys and Helaena. Or so, you hoped it to be — but who else's would it be? It had to be only them those lurking you to wherever they were.

You didn't hesitate not even a brief second in doubting whether you'll go, or not. The answer was a thousand times yes, and if you could, you would've fastforwarded to your usual bed time, go to the gardens and finally encounter them.

When the late hours of night finally appeared for your proper bedtime, being only visible the moon and stars that came with the night itself, you sneaked out from your chambers rather discreetly as to not be seen by anyone casually walking through the long corridors of the Red Keep. Your steps were soft yet hast against the floor, remaining a proper balance between silent, yet fast as to not keep them waiting any longer in the gardens. Fortunately for you, you had already grown used to take shorter paths through the halls as to reach the gardens without walking too much.

Once you had reached, you could feel your own heart pounding tightly against your chest with a mix of nerves and enthusiastic joy overwhelming your entire being. As you walked through the halls, you kept along with those silently quick footsteps, beginning to enter the gardens.

Everyday, it seemed that more flowers grew continously non-stop. There was a graceful blend of different flower shapes, sizes, and even colours. Your eyes shone with a glint of delight upon entering the gardens and meticuously observing every inch of the heartwarming sight it provided you. Swiftly, your fingers glided through several petal roses as you walked, wandering around, and being intrigued with what they would surprise you.

“We're glad to see you came, (y/n).” was heard a male voice speaking in a soothing tone from behind, making you release a small shriek from having been so focused on the flowers, that you didn't notice they had arrived. “Seven Hells, Jace, you scared me!” you joked, darting your gaze towards him. There, he sat next to Helaena on a bench, seemingly awaiting for you. A small timid grin was quick to shape on the corner of your lips.

Walking towards them, you didn't bother in hiding such shy smile, accompanied by a warm, faint fluster. “Of course I came. I saw the note on my bed, and I didn't doubt a single second to come.” you retorted, as both the Targaryen princess and Velaryon prince stared at you with a grand level of admiration; you seemed particularly more dreamy than usual, enough for them to fancy you even more. At your words, they both smiled simultaneously, leaving a seat for you in the middle of the bench they both sat in together.

“May I ask, however,” taking hold of your dress, straightening it briefly as to properly sit in between them, you continued talking — their focus being solely on you. “Why did you ask for me to meet you here, in the gardens, late at night?” a playful sneer escaped from both their lips, as you grinned at them curiously. You were truly oblivious to how they felt towards you, despite how many times they had tried to hint you their feelings. At some point, the uncertainty you had about their feelings along with your shy and easily flustered persona was adorable.

“We simply wanted to have some quality time with our little flower, without anyone bothering us.” helaena spoke from your side, gently raising her hand as to twirl a strand of your hair around her finger in a playful manner. Of course, hearing the way she referred to you as their little flower plus having them by each of your sides was enough to make a crimson tint begin staining leisurely your cheeks. A timid snickering escaped from you, vastly smiling at them.

“And we thought, that there was no better way of spending such time together with you, than take a stroll through the gardens during nighttime.” jace quickly added, making you dart your gaze towards him with your smile remaining on your delicate lips. The eldest of the Velaryons delicately took your hand, raising it to his lips as to kiss your knuckles in a daint manner.

Your eyes shone with a glint of exuberance, a peaceful sigh rolling off from your lips as you couldn't help but feel the warmth of an intense blush spreading across your face, and even your neck. It felt like being in the seven heavens itself, like being drowned in your own fantasies. It was too good to be true, yet, it was happening. Occasionally you felt a bit reluctant to doubt whether or not they both reciprocated what you equally felt for them, as you could've never guessed life would be as good as to bless you with such favour, but you couldn't help but have a scintilla of hope at seeing them overwhelm you with such affection, and attention.

“And there is nothing I would be more delighted to do, than to spend equal time with the both of you; alone.” you replied, taking their hands with your own, and caressing them with the tip of your fingers. As low and shy as your voice was, it was vehement — expressing how genuine your feelings were at the situation. Both of them, of course, felt a sense of relief wash over them upon hearing your words.

They eventually realised, there was no point in constantly fighting to see whose hint you'd catch first, or who would be the one making you fluster and giggle the most. The reactions they got from you were equal. To which, they just preferred to eventually team up to make you feel overwhelmed with how genuinely deep they both adored you, and spoil you constantly so you would fall in the realisation of how they felt. And perhaps, eventually if they were bold enough, they would decide to explicitly confess to you — but they would rather begin with slow babysteps, and allow you to get their hints first.

♡ taglist : ♡

@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @tickle-euphoria @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @phantasyy @chompchompluke @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee

#helaena targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader

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triangle-strategy-notes · 7 months ago

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Ezana Concept Art

Concept art and translations for Ezana! Translation notes and image id under the cut.

Translation notes:

On the first page when Ikushima is talking about how he feels pressure to make his drawings beautiful, he's actually saying something more like "Usually with sexy woman I go 'I'm obligated to/I must make them beautiful!'... " but no matter how I phrased it the wording felt awkward in English, so I changed the sentence to go without the quotes.

There's a note on the second page above the monochrome sketch that was pretty hard to read (the middle character in particular might have been scribbled out?), so I kind of guessed at the rough meaning from the surrounding characters. The first kanji seems to be 玄, which has the general meaning of "mysterious, occultness, black, deep, profound," and the third kanji seems to be 器, which has the general meaning of "utensil, vessel, receptacle, implement, instrument, ability, container, tool, set". I went with "mysterious staff" as the meaning of the kanji together, also working off of the fact that it's. um. pointing at a staff that seems vaguely mysterious.

"Call forth the rain" was more literally just "rain," but it uses a particle at the end that has a vaguely commanding/requesting vibe to it, so I added extra words to convey that.

There's a part on the second page where I write "SHAMAN" in all caps. On that particular line, "Shaman" was written out using English phonetics, whereas on the rest of the page when I use the word it's the Japanese word for an equivalent concept.

"Lines like a weather map" is literally "isobar pattern". I'm assuming that most people aren't familiar with the word "isobar" (including myself) but from a brief google search, isobars are the lines that show up on a map when weather forecasts are trying to show the range of a storm and the barometric pressure specifically. Since it's (probably) not a commonly-known word, I just wrote out the "weather map" stuff instead.

"Sexy as it sounds" is a weird one. I think it's a portion of this phrase, which is defined as, "not existing despite seeming like it should", but just uses some different particles at the end which I'm assuming make it non-negative (e.g., "as sexy as it should be"). But I couldn't find a ton of examples of how the phrase is used though or what the differences in particles would be, so I just kind of went with the auto-translation I got from Deepl.

Image id:

[id: Multiple images from the Triangle Strategy artbook surrounding Ezana Qlinka. There is a page with a large colored portrait of her, along with a smaller line drawing in the corner. There are two illustrator's notes at the bottom: the first is, "Ezana has a really lovely ethnic design. Actually, after the character's portrait was completed, Mr. Ikushima redid all the linework, which added a lot to the character's beauty! (Yoshiura Rina)" and the second is, "Ezana is primitive, spiritual, and also a mysterious kind of character. With sexy women I usually feel pressure to make them beautiful, but strangely she was very easy to draw. I like how the natural colors are interspersed with the lapis lazuli. (Ikushima Naoki)". On the second page, the top half has several drawings of Ezana in a design close to her canon one. It is titled, "Weather Manipulator (Shaman)". There is one drawing where Ezana is without her headdress, captioned, "If there are different ranks of shaman, I think it'd be fine to start out without the headdress." There is a note pointing to her headress labeled, "Sheep's skull with some parts cut off," and another that reads, "Horns. Red and blue cord is coiled." Another note points to a full sheep skull and reads, "Origin. It's been shaved away starting at about this area." It points to roughly the middle of it. Another note points to a feather ruff she wears, labeled, "Crow feathers". Her staff is labeled, "A staff with elements similar to a dreamcatcher". There is a portrait of her from the back, with a note reading, "Back of the dress is open." The second half of the page is titled, "Weather Manipulator (Shaman) Large Brainstorming WIP". There are 5 drawings, each of a different potential design. The first is similar to her canon design, but with darker skin and a black dress. The second is very colorful, and has the notes, "Hear the song from the wind and go into a trance" as well as "Lines like a weather map" and "I think it would look better if the saturation was lowered a little or the colors were narrowed down a bit." The third drawing has a purple cloak with eyes on it, and seems to be throwing seeds into the air, captioned, "Sowing seeds toward the sky." The fourth design uses more pastels/bright colors, and has a drum at her hip. She seems to be saying, "Thunder!" and there is a note that reads, "Beat the cover and let it resonate through the air." The fifth drawing is of a woman wearing a full mask and a heavy cloak made of grass fibers. It has several bullet points including, "Weather Manipulator (Shaman)," "Female SHAMAN", "Indigenous - Separate wind and lightning magic", and "As sexy as it sounds." She holds a staff which is labeled, "Mysterious Staff" and also has a note reading, "Indigenous". She seems to be saying, "Bring forth the rain..." There are two illustrator's notes on the bottom. The first reads, "Mr. Asano requested that I add in leopard print, and I thought about how I could make it unique. (Naoki Ikushima)" and the second reads, "Looking at it again, it's a really sexy outfit. And it's great in battle! (Tomoya Asano)" /end id]

#triangle strategy #ts artbook character ref sheets #ezana qlinka #triangle strategy artbook #I don't like to assume any real meaningful information about the people behind team asano based off these little notes #especially since I'm not a native speaker #but I DO think it's really funny that every other time ikushima's in charge of a design #his illustrator's note seems to be something like 'asano asked me to change it :('#and asano's note is 'looks pretty good if I do say so myself! :)'#that B design in particular is really cool to me with all the weather patterns #though I can see why they felt like the colors were maybe too bright for tri strat

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starmapz · 6 months ago

Text

shame on me || chapter eleven || safety

gojo satoru x female vessel reader

warnings || 18+ only. contains explicit content. enemies to lovers. extreme angst. graphic descriptions of injury and death. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. fluff. major character death. anxiety. panic attacks. extreme slow burn. eventual smut. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). praise. overstimulation. unprotected. fingering. mating press. slight nanami x reader. happy ending!

wc || 9.1k.

edited but not beta-read.

series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

Anticipation eats you alive throughout the night as you groan to yourself each time you wake up in the early morning hours to glance at the time. Strangely excited to see what Gojo has planned for your date, it seemed it was managing to keep you awake, much to your dismay.

It’s not until seven in the morning that you feel you can acceptably rise for the day, deciding to busy yourself by getting ready. As you turn on the shower, you can hear heavy footsteps overhead, which is unusual for this time and you wonder if the anticipation is eating away at Satoru just as it is at you.

You giggle to yourself at the thought. To think that the two people who could barely stand to be in a room with one another were now barely able to sleep like children awaiting Christmas morning all for a date.

What a world.

Choosing an outfit for the date is an equally difficult task. Of course, you know he’ll compliment you no matter what you wear, but you really hadn’t brought that much clothing since moving here a few months ago in the grand scheme of things. You wanted to wear something for the occasion.

As you eye your closet from where you’d plopped down on your back over barely folded blankets, one dress catches your eye. A small black dress, more form-fitting than your usual sundresses, though still fairly casual, that falls quite high on your thighs and reveals more skin than you usually show off as well.

The same black dress Satoru had commented on when you’d carried it over to the cabin.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you pull it on over your head, flattening it down as you stare at yourself in the mirror. It hugs your curves in just the right way, accentuating your form in a way that makes you feel hot, although you wonder if it’ll even be appropriate for whatever Satoru has planned.

Steeling your resolve, you throw on a cute light brown cardigan over the dress to feign a more casual look and head out to the kitchen.

Satoru’s back faces you. His hair is damp, fresh from a shower and dripping down his bare back. His muscles ripple in the most eye-catching way as you catch yourself practically drooling over him. A pair of gray slacks hangs low on his hips, while a button-up shirt hangs from the back of the chair. Maybe the dress wouldn’t be too fancy after all.

Taking a few steps into the kitchen, you peer over Satoru’s side to see what he’s cooking. It’s rare to find him cooking on a Sunday. Or at all, really. Now that you were feeling better, Satoru rarely got in front of the stove aside from Saturday mornings. You’d taken to cooking more often and he’d returned to his poor eating habits, which you made sure to scold him for.

Of course, Gojo wasn’t always the best listener. He didn’t care much for your lessons in taking care of himself.

“Well don’t you look gorgeous?” He grins at you from over the rounds of his glasses.

Blush paints your cheeks at his compliment as you smile up at him through your lashes.

“Pretty thing like you might just take my breath away,” he smirks, flipping a pancake.

“Toruuu,” you let out a breathy chuckle, averting your gaze from his striking blue ones that bore into you.

Setting the spatula down, he turns to face you, chuckling at the way your eyes travel his toned frame with little subtlety. “Nuh uh,” he chides, a forefinger and thumb gently lifting your chin as he leans down to your level. Your breath hitches at the close proximity. “C’mon, give me a twirl.”

He takes a step back, making a small spinning motion with his finger. His face twists into one of mock thought, as though he’s judging you like a contestant on one of the cheesy reality shows he loves to watch.

You giggle shyly, indulging him as you twirl, your cardigan splaying out during the action.

With playfully narrowed eyes and a hand held to his chin, he hums as though in thought. “You know, I think to judge properly, I might just need another one.” His eyes glint with mischief as you scoff at him.

Giving him one more twirl, he reaches out and pulls you against him mid-spin. “Fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles into your hair as you let out a surprised squeak at the sudden action. “I give you a solid eleven out of ten.”

“Satoru!” You cry out, pushing against him as he all but crushes you in his tight bear hug.

“I think you deserve more points, but I was only allowed to give ten so eleven was pushing it,” he chuckles slyly, kissing the crown of your head before letting you go.

Smoothing out your dress, you huff in mock exasperation. “You’re such a handful,” you grumble. He hums as though that’s obvious, returning his attention to the pancakes as he flips the pan and dumps two out onto a plate. He sets them on the table, pulling out a chair for you.

Thanking him, you take a bite and smile.

“What has you up so early?” You query with a tilt of your head.

He glances over his shoulder at you. “Wanted to make you breakfast and heard you were awake.”

“I heard you walking around when I was getting in the shower,” you confront him with a raised eyebrow.

“Sleep and I aren’t the best of buddies,” he admits with his back to you, though you can hear the frown in how he speaks.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he shoots you a smile. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“You know I ask because I do worry about you, right?”

He remains facing the stove, flipping both pancakes silently. You know this side of Satoru, the side that shuts down any and all questions about him because he feels the need to be strong.

“Satoru, please,” you plead with him, not wanting this to become another fight. You’d both grown past that, or so you thought. He faces away from you still, fiddling with the spatula’s handle.

“I haven’t slept since the attack,” he admits quietly, still refusing to meet your gaze.

“The attack… two months ago?”

He nods in confirmation, those eerily intense blue eyes fixed on you as he glances over his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your brow knits together in concern, a crease forming at the bridge of your nose.

His mouth opens and closes once, twice. He sighs, clearly growing frustrated and you wonder how dangerously close you teeter on the edge of this becoming a real argument. All you can truly do is keep your own frustration from getting out of hand.

Setting your fork and knife down as silently as possible in an effort to keep things calm, you slowly get to your feet, traversing the kitchen in three easy steps to set a gentle hand on his bicep. He’s tense beneath your fingers, but takes in a breath.

“‘Cause I felt like I was treading on eggshells around you until the other week,” he practically whispers, an admission that feels like pulling teeth to get out of him for both him and you.

You nod slowly, a pang of hurt clenching in your chest, though you know that isn’t fair. You’re both aware of the fact that the feeling was mutual.

“I understand,” you hum quietly, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. His arm relaxes somewhat as he shoots you a glance, examining your expression. “I’m not gonna force you to answer or anything, but what happened?”

The glimmer that passes through his eyes as he turns to face you is enough to make you shiver. Fear, hurt, uncertainty, he looks vulnerable. Truly, really, vulnerable.

His chest rises and falls heavily under your watchful eyes and to your surprise, he reaches gingerly for your hand. His thumb gently runs over your knuckles.

“I couldn’t get the image of you covered in blood out of my head,” his voice is low as he stares at the movement of his thumb, brow pulled together in discontentment.

You frown, uneasiness roiling in your stomach. You knew Yuta had delivered the blow to take you down during the incident, but you hadn’t considered the fact that he’d likely damn-near killed you to do so.

Wrapping your fingers around his gentle hand, you bring it up to kiss his knuckles, watching the minute change of expression as he relaxes a bit more.

“Did you want to try to have a nap before we go out?”

He considers your offer before shaking his head, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Nah, I’m used to getting this much sleep. Thank you though, sweetheart.”

You smile kindly up at him, taking a step forward to leave a kiss on his jaw. Rolling back onto the heels of your feet, you return to the table. Satoru watches you with soft admiration, a muscle in his jaw rolling as he chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Thanks for talking to me,” you tell him, happy he’s opening up.

He nods, sighing as he lets his shoulders hang naturally and turns back to the pancakes. He dumps them onto a plate for himself, drowning them in syrup as he watches you feed and play with Taro.

“What’s the plan for the day?” You curiously turn to him as Taro tugs on a rope held between your hands.

“I told ya already,” he smiles, recovering easily from the vulnerability of the morning. “It’s a surprise.”

Groaning impishly at Satoru, you let Taro take his rope, the dog violently shaking the toy as he excitedly runs circles around the table. “You’re such a tease.”

“Always, baby.” He grins slyly.

After cleaning up the kitchen, Satoru keeps you company as you water your garden before he takes your hand and leads the way to the waiting car with Ijichi. Gojo opts to give him an exact address, firm on keeping the destination a secret until the end.

You don’t recognize the area or the little cafe you’ve arrived at when you step out of the vehicle and take Satoru’s hand. He breaks contact to push the sleeves of his white dress shirt up past his elbows before taking your hand again as he leads you across the street to the little cafe.

The cafe has gorgeous wooden oak walls and floors with white accents, plants littering each and every shelf and spare corner. It’s cozy and warm, and you smile at the thought Satoru put into the location.

As he leads the way to the counter, you suddenly realize the cafe is connected to another room. A glass pane separates both rooms with a door connecting them, and that’s when you see a pair of reflective yellow eyes curiously staring back at you.

You gasp at the sight, your eyes focused on the little ball of fur with its tail held high in the air as the little cat stares back at you.

“It’s so cute,” you breathe out, your eyes shining in wonder in a way that has Satoru grinning behind you.

“Y’like it?” He peers down at your expression, pleased with himself that he’d gotten such a reaction from you.

“This is so cute, Toru!” You beam at him, your fingers tangling in his as you reach down for his much larger hand.

As your turn to order comes, you let Satoru go first as you peruse the menu. Once you’ve both ordered, an employee leads the way into the cat room, and you feel as though you could practically cry at the sight of all the tiny furballs in the room.

“I’m gonna burst,” you state bluntly as a tiny tabby kitten prances up to your ankles, rubbing up against them with a small mew.

“Me too,” Satoru responds, his gaze fixed warmly upon you.

The sorcerer finds an empty table in the corner, the small tabby trailing the entire way after you. You set your drink on the table before you, leaving it close to the wall in hopes that it wouldn’t get knocked over by the small pair of paws holding a little gray kitty up as it smells your hands.

“Have you been here before?” You ask Satoru as you smooth your hand over the cat’s head, your attention on its gorgeous golden-orange eyes.

“I drop by for their cheese tarts sometimes,” he grins, “but I’ve never actually been on this side.”

“It’s really pretty,” you comment, glancing around at all the modern decorations, littered with scratching posts and toys.

“Mhmm,” Satoru hums in agreement, his gaze fixed on you. “Very,” he agrees cheekily.

You roll your eyes, a faint blush rising to your cheeks. “You’re shameless.”

“You love it.”

You can’t hide your smile, taking his hand from across the table as he offers it.

A big silver tabby hops onto the table before you, purring immediately as you scratch behind its ears with sparkles in your eyes. Satoru gently runs his hand down its back as it lays down before you, enjoying the attention.

“Did you ever have pets as a kid?” You ask Satoru.

He shakes his head. “Nah, the clan didn’t have pets.”

“Right, I guess that would be a lot different than how I grew up.” You can really only imagine what it would be like to grow up as a special grade sorcerer from birth, especially given his title that you grew sick of hearing.

“Did you have any?” He leans forward on his elbows, giving you his full attention.

“I had fish, my dad wouldn’t let me get anything else in case the vet bills got bad.”

He nods, taking a sip of his coffee. “Did you teach it any tricks?”

“Can’t say I did,” you giggle along to his jest. “Taro knows some, though.”

“What, ‘bark at satoru’, ‘growl at satoru’, ‘bite satoru’, and ‘chase satoru’?” He scoffs, sipping his coffee again.

You bark a laugh, thrilling Satoru as he sees your wide grin, a matching one spreading across his features. “No,” you shake your head, “he can sit, shake a paw, lay down, and play dead.”

“So where exactly do the parts about him hating me come into play?” He asks curiously with a raised brow.

“He is a guard dog, you know. I got him to warn me about you.”

Satoru makes a face, his lip curling up in mock irritation with narrowed eyes, but he knows better than to defend himself when he did deserve it.

“Guess he was pretty good at his job, then. At least he likes me now,” he shrugs, running a hand through his tousled locks.

“Thanks again for taking care of him while I was out. I don’t know what I’d do without that pup.”

He smiles genuinely. “Anything for you, pretty.”

You avert your gaze from the candy-sweet look Satoru gives you with lidded eyes as he leans forward on his elbows with a boyish grin.

Before you can hide your face from the sickeningly sweet grin he’s giving you, a gorgeous white cat with long fur and pretty blue eyes hops up between you on the table, its furry tail curling into Satoru’s face. He sputters in surprise as the long hair gets in his mouth.

Giggling, you reach out to pet the cat, but it’s completely enamored with Satoru, mewing a demand for his attention. Even as he pulls cat hair from his mouth with a dramatically exasperated expression, he reaches out to pet the cat, who curls its tail around its paws and sits down with a contented purr.

Leaning into Satoru’s touch, the cat turns to look at you and you purse your lips, looking back and forth between the snowy-haired sorcerer and his equally frosty-haired new companion.

“Oh my god,” you gasp.

“Hm?”

“It’s Satoru Junior!” You exclaim, pulling out your phone and snapping a photo of a disgruntled Satoru and his calm little twin.

“I do not look like this cat,” he insists, reaching across the table. “Delete that!”

Holding your phone away, you lean out of reach of his lanky arms, giggling at his reaction.

Letting out a huff, he scratches the cat’s little chin. “I don’t look like you,” he tells the cat in a high-pitched voice. “You’re ruining my reputation.”

“What reputation is that?” You tease.

He glances up at you slyly. “You tell me, princess.”

In truth, you had expected him to say something that you would be able to match his backtalk for, but you hadn’t expected him to leave you speechless. With lips pursed, you feel heat rising to your shoulders, a deep and obvious blush dusting your cheeks up to the tips of your ears.

“That one got ya, huh?” He grins coyly, gently nudging the cat who leans into his touch. “Maybe you’re not so bad, little guy.”

“Satoruuu…” You bashfully hide your face in your hands, butterflies erupting and fluttering in your stomach.

“So flustered,” he coos, reaching across the table and gently tangling his fingers with yours as he pulls your hands down from your face, admiring the gorgeous pink tint across your cheeks.

Sparing you from growing more flustered, a tiny kitten grabs your attention as it bats at your ankle. Both you and the sorcerer across from you eventually find yourselves sitting on the floor with a string toy and a pair of tiny kittens.

Conversation finds you easily, all the while playing with the kittens and cats who come and go as they please.

It’s easy to watch the way Satoru excitedly tells you stories from school, from when Megumi was younger, and from when he would travel more for missions. His expression is one of easy happiness, glimmering with excitement at the way you pay close attention to every detail, recalling little things he mentions.

He’s eager to learn more about you as well, though you’re more reserved in the way you tell stories. Satoru’s never been one to be quiet though, as much as he does want to listen and hear your stories, he loves to add commentary. It’s endearing, the way he listens so intently in spite of his inability to stay quiet.

As the sun traverses the sky and the soft rays of evening sun paint the cafe walls golden with cats basking in the rays of warmth, Satoru offers you his hand as he pulls you up off the floor and leads you out the door.

“I’m covered in fur,” you giggle, trying to brush some of it off your black dress to no avail.

Satoru kicks his legs out dramatically, showing off his equally fur-covered gray slacks with a grin.

Expecting Satoru to lead you back to the car, you’re surprised when he tugs you along to another shop down the street.

Really, it shouldn’t surprise you that he would want to visit someplace to get a sweet treat. Sure enough, he pulls you into a traditional ice cream parlor with a grin, ordering two cones and handing you one.

Each time you think he’ll pull you back to the car, he surprises you by bringing you somewhere else.

Ice cream still in hand, he pulls you along with him further down the street to a massive park with a pond, surrounded by beautiful greenery speckled in flowers. Bubbles float to the surface of the water as fish follow your shadow in hopes of food, birds chirping overhead in the trees. The sound of leaves and branches colliding overhead in the breeze is a comfort like no other, reminding you of your peaceful years in your cottage.

Satoru leans down to kiss your cheek. He doesn’t need to ask whether you like it, the glimmer in your eyes is all the response he needs.

Leading the way between two large cherry trees, he finds his way to a cute little bench stationed in a small clearing, overlooking the pond from the shade of the large trees overhead, and free of prying eyes. A small respite from the bustling streets of Tokyo.

Of course Satoru would find a place like this. As he pulls you onto the bench beside him, a relaxed sigh parting his lips, you find yourself admiring his features. His sharp jawline, the way his white hair falls so delicately over his striking blue eyes, the way the sunset light shines over his long lashes. Admiring him as though he’s a masterpiece, made for your eyes only.

He notices the way your deep red eyes train on him with ardor, but he’s always enjoyed the attention, especially yours, so who is he to stop you? He moves his arm to wrap around your middle, pulling you against him comfortably. As his fingers rest on your waist, you reach up to kiss his jaw.

“So Satoru,” you start, tilting your head up to look at him. “How long have you been planning this, really?”

A faint blush dusts his cheeks. “I found this place a few months ago,” he admits softly, his voice strangely tender. “I always thought you would like it.”

Though you know the reason he pushed you away for so long, it’s still strange to hear that he thought of you in moments like these. You can’t help but wonder if he’d had some semblance of feelings all along that he’d spent so long pushing down all in favor of keeping up his ability to play the role of the weapon of the higher-ups.

“Well, I don’t like it,” you start, barely able to hold back playful giggles as he shoots you a concerned look. “I love it,” you grin, watching as he works a muscle in his jaw with a disgruntled expression. His eyes still shine with adoration, giving away his true soft demeanor.

As his features soften when you smile up at him, he leans into you, nuzzling his face into your hair. “So I did well?” He asks, voice muffled in an effort to mask his genuine nerves.

“This is perfect, Toru. I’m having a great time.” Your hand finds his thigh and he smiles against your scalp, setting his larger hand over yours.

“Good,” he breathes out happily. Returning your attention to your melting ice cream, you both happily bask in the gentle heat of the setting sun over the pond, enjoying the cool treat as a contrast to the heat.

Satoru’s attention trains on a fish at the edge of the pond, bubbles rising from its movements. It dashes off suddenly, as if spooked by something. With his eyes still trained on the pond, he asks you something out of the blue.

“You haven’t been out of Japan much, right?”

You shake your head. “I didn’t have the chance before Miriko woke up and now I don’t really want to bring a dragon onto a plane.”

He nods in understanding. “Would you ever want to? Travel, I mean. Not specifically the dragon part.”

You stare at him questioningly. “Of course. I just don’t think it’s an option.”

Satoru hums thoughtfully. “If you could, where would you go?”

“I want to see the northern lights,” you tell him.

His brow raises as he tilts his head. “You’ve never seen them?”

“They’re not that common,” you shrug. “I’ve tried, but I don’t think my cottage was far enough out of town.” You kick at a pebble by your feet, watching as it tumbles down the small bank at the edge of the pond, a splash reaching your ears as it submerges. “I’ve always thought Iceland would be fun.”

Gojo takes in what you’re saying with a hum as though he wasn’t expecting that. “That sounds fun,” he agrees.

“Have you ever been?”

He shakes his head no. “I’ve been overseas for the occasional mission but I don’t get to sight-see much anyway.” He shrugs.

“Maybe someday we’ll get a vacation,” you chuckle dryly at the thought, trying to come across less hopeless than the thought really felt, but you don’t succeed.

“You wanna go on vacation with me?” He nudges your side, simpering guilefully.

You subtly roll your eyes, unable to help as the corners of your lips quirk upwards. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late,” he teases, his fingers curling against your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer to his side.

Comfortable silence settles over the both of you, ice cream finished and basking in one another’s company. Your hands are tangled in your lap, fingers subconsciously running over skin.

Your date catches you off-guard when he reaches up to tilt your chin to him, your heart soaring in your chest as your lips meet in a gentle union, moving ever-so-softly against one another. Satoru’s hand moves up from your chin to cup your face while his fingers squeeze your hand gently. You move against him in tandem, responding eagerly to every maneuver of his lips.

He’s so gentle, savoring the way your tongue swipes against his bottom lip as you deepen the kiss. His fingers flex against your hot cheek, humming into your parted lips in contentment. Your hand finds purchase on his chest, feeling the way his heart thrums fast and hard against his chest.

“So sweet,” he hums between kisses. He could be talking about your taste or your demeanor, you’d truly never know, silencing his compliment with your lips. His tongue dances with yours, his sweet taste intoxicating.

When he slowly pulls back, white lashes fluttering open, you can’t help the way a smile spreads over your features, one that’s mirrored on your handsome date’s face. His thumb brushes your cheek bone tenderly, pressing a kiss to your reddened nose.

He pulls back to look out over the lake at the darkening light as the sun dips under the horizon.

“Why don’t we grab some dinner and head home?”

“Nothing fancy?” You insist, hoping he’ll settle for takeout as the last thing you need is a fancy dinner while covered in cat hair.

“Whatever your heart desires, gorgeous.”

Your blush deepens, if that’s at all possible, as Satoru pulls you to your feet. His hand finds your waist as though he can’t bear to not be in constant contact with you. He walks with a lilt to his step, enjoying the casual pace as he tells you about the curse he fought here a few months back.

When you return to the car, Ijichi opens the door for you both to pile in. Satoru doesn’t let you go, even as you move to put on your seatbelt, his hand remains firmly around your waist, practically gluing you to his side.

As Ijichi starts the car, Gojo points out each and every little bakery and place he’s been, where he’s fought curses, places he thinks you might enjoy. You hadn’t had the opportunity to visit so much of Tokyo that the idea of visiting it with Satoru makes you strangely giddy and you find yourself gripping his thigh tightly as he suggests taking you out next weekend to check out a little botany store he spotted last week.

Of course, you’d never expected him to take so much time to consider the things you might like, let alone to want to share his favorite little bakeries and spots with you. Not when barely a month ago you could barely stand to be in the same room.

How the times had changed.

You stop and grab sushi as takeout, giggling as you attempt to eat it in the car and Satoru ends up adding soya sauce to the car hair that litters his pants. His nose wrinkles in embarrassment as you can’t help but giggle at him, but it’s not like it stops either of you from continuing to eat in the car.

As you pull into the entrance of the school grounds, Ijichi opens the door for you both. Your fingers instinctively tangle with Gojo’s as he begins to lead the way to the cabin, casting a glance at the group of students training at the end of the field.

He pauses, shoving his free hand in his pocket as you both watch them all chatting, able to hear them laughing and joking together. You squeeze his hand gently, smiling proudly at the sight.

“I’m glad they still get to be kids sometimes,” you say softly, giggling as Panda pulls Maki and Yuta together into, quite literally, a bear hug, much to their dismay based on their flailing limbs.

“Makes it all worth it,” the sorcerer beside you agrees, smiling to himself before he turns back to the cabin to lead the way. Unlocking the door, he leads you inside, patting Taro on the head as he dumps his keys on the table.

You fall into habit, letting Taro out and feeding him before returning to Satoru’s side as he kicks off his shoes and unbuttons the top of his shirt, rolling his shoulders. You shrug your cardigan off, hanging it off the back of one of the kitchen chairs and leaving you in just the small black dress.

Satoru hums as he watches your movements, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“I think I’m a fan of this dress,” he mumbles, his hands finding your hips as he pulls you against him, leaning back against the kitchen table.

He admires the way your cheeks redden, his eyes gaining a darkness you’re growing to recognize that sends a wave of heat through your entire body as you realize how tightly he’s holding you against his toned abs.

You feel the way his chest rises and falls in quick succession against the plush of your breasts as the pads of his fingers press into your hips. He takes you in a moment longer to admire you before leaning down to kiss you.

This isn’t like every other time he’s kissed you. It’s filled with passion, but his lips move against yours fast, needy, damn near desperate. Like he’s been waiting for this moment for a lifetime.

He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, satisfied when you gasp, your fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his shirt against his chest. As your tongues dance against one another, you feel the way his body heats up, the fabric of his slacks pulling taut as he grows hard.

His grip on you intensifies as he deepens the kiss, his pace picking up.

Inadvertently, you press yourself more needily against him as heat pools and burns in your core, setting ablaze want, need. He groans into your lips, a sound swallowed between kisses as you grind against his length, looking for friction to ease the pooling tension in your abdomen as you press your thighs together.

“Fuck,” he groans into your lips, “you’re gorgeous, you know that?” His voice is low in a way that’s just so sexy and dangerous.

Your cheeks burn just as hot as the fire between your thighs at his compliment, which you hide behind an intense kiss. Your fingers slide up his undercut to tangle in his hair, pulling a moan from his lips.

He deftly slides his hands down your hips to the plump of your ass. “Jump,” he commands in a husky voice. Your fingers curl at the sound of his lust-filled voice as you obey, wrapping both legs around his toned waist. He hums in satisfaction, gripping the plush of your ass as he effortlessly brings you up the stairs to his bedroom.

It’s distinctly more lived-in than the rest of the cabin had looked upon moving in and clothing sits in piles off to the side, the blankets thrown up to the pillows in a half-assed effort to make the bed. It won’t matter one way or the other when he’s done with you.

He sets you down gently on the bed before crawling over you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Your hands find purchase around his neck again, tangling in his hair.

“You have no idea,” he whispers with lidded eyes, leaning down to return to the kiss, “how crazy you’ve been driving me all day in this little thing.” He tugs at the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs. Your gasp is swallowed by his hungry lips as his hands work to spread your thighs for him.

Positioning himself between your legs, he pulls back from your lips to press feverous kisses down your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. With each movement he makes, each brush of skin and urgent kiss, he’s mapping your body like it’s his sole mission in life. He wants to memorize each and every little thing that makes you tic, he wants to bring you to your knees in pleasure.

Satoru wants to tear you apart and make you his. He wants to be completely and wholly yours.

“Satoru-” you moan his name so angelically he pauses his movements, pupils blown as he admires you. He lets out a breath as he dips back down to your neck, nipping and sucking as you tug at his hair.

“Shit, I love the way you moan my name, baby.” His lips brush your neck as he continues his movements, growing more and more impatient with his own teasing as he hooks his thumbs under the hem of your dress and hurriedly pulls it up your body.

You shuffle to let him take it off, being carelessly tossed aside, but you couldn’t care less. The only thing that matters is him. The woodsy smell of his cologne, the way his chest rises and falls eagerly, the dark look glinting in his lust-filled eyes.

It’s all so much, yet it’s not enough as slick pools between your thighs. A wanton whine parts your lips as you try to clench your thighs in a desperate action for the friction that Satoru teases.

The sorcerer lowly chuckles, a strong hand finding its grip on your thigh as he pushes it down, squeezing your other thigh as his gaze travels the length of your figure.

“Fucking perfect,” he groans, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Your attention is drawn to his cock, jumping in his slacks in a desperate plea to be let loose. Satoru grins, palming his erection as you lick your swollen lips at the sight, but his focus is you. Your pleasure.

Sprawling your thighs before him, he positions his face between your legs, running the flat of his tongue over your clothed core, completely soaked for him.

“Fuck, Toru!” You cry, arching your back in an effort to elicit more contact. “Please baby, need more,” your whine is met with a deep chuckle.

“Need more what, sweetheart? Use your words.” You lift your head, crimson eyes filled with need that sets Satoru ablaze.

Your head spins with desire as you don’t hesitate to answer him, the words finding you easily. “I want you, Satoru.”

Your admission is like fuel to him, his long finger hooks the fabric of your black lace panties, pulling them aside as his hot breath fans your dripping core.

“You this soaked all for me, baby?” His tone drips with cockiness that you can’t bring yourself to handle in this moment, running a hand through his hair as you push his head down to your puffy lips in an effort to shut him up.

His chuckle vibrates against your pussy and you arch your back into the friction, gasping when his tongue licks up your slit in one slow, long movement. “Haah, shit Toru,” you moan and gasp all at once, your mouth hanging open at the delicious feeling of his tongue swirling a circle around your clit.

He hums into your pussy, curling his fingers into your thighs almost bruisingly as he savors your taste. You tug on his hair, fingers urging for more, more, as your toes curl at either side of his head.

Satoru delights in the way you squirm and moan his name from beneath him, his movements quickening as his nose flicks your sensitive bud, shortly followed by his tongue as he sucks on the bundle of nerves, a sharp cry of his name hanging in the air.

As one hand tugs at his hair, your other hand grips at the sheets beneath you. Satoru deftly runs a long finger along your slit, wetting the digit with your juices before sliding it in, savoring the way you stretch around him.

“So tight, darlin’,” he mumbles between broad strokes of his tongue.

“S-Satoru, shit,” your thighs shake beneath his grip as he begins to pump his finger in and out, wasting no time as he slides a second finger in easily. Your loud moans drive him crazy and he reaches down to free his rock-hard erection from his slacks, unable to resist the urge to stroke himself at the sight of you splayed so beautifully over his bed, damn near falling apart on his fingers.

If you look this pretty all fucked-out over his fingers, he can’t wait to see how goddamn gorgeous you look with his cock splitting you apart, your juices drenching him. His mouth waters at the thought of it.

Deviously slowing his movements, you feel the way his lips quirk up into a smile against your pussy at the involuntary buck of your hips, eager for his movements to continue. He curls his long fingers against your gummy walls, his tongue parting from your swollen bundle of nerves as he looks up at the way your head falls back into the mattress, watching your expression as he finds your g-spot.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, followed by a whimper as your arousal coats his fingers, sliding easily down to his wrist. His hungry blue eyes continue to watch your expression as his fingers curl repeatedly into your cunt so perfectly.

“Good girl,” he purrs in a sweet tone, groaning as you pull his hair. With two digits still buried deep in your cunt, pulling out moans and whimpers from your sweet lips, Satoru reaches down to palm his hard cock, breathing coming in ragged pants.

He doesn’t relent the moment he finds your g-spot, your warm walls molding so delectably to his fingers as your sloppy cunt squelches with each thrust, each curl of his long digits. He repeats the movements over and over until it’s all so much that you’re scrambling against him as you fist the sheets and his hair so roughly that he’s letting out a breathy chuckle between languid strokes of his tongue, but not once does the pace of his fingers ever relent.

As your walls pulse around his digits and your moans turn to incoherent babbles of being close, Satoru sucks your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it with such precision it has your head spinning. His movements pick up the pace as your thighs shake and begin to close around his head but he doesn’t let up his pace.

Releasing his throbbing cock, he reaches up to hold your hips in place as you jerk against his tongue, the knot in your stomach growing in intensity as your orgasm approaches fast.

“Cum f’r me, baby. Make a mess ‘n my fingers,” he whispers sweetly and oh the things his words do to you. You whimper and squirm as the tightness at the base of your stomach unwinds and the intensity releases.

“S-Satoru-!” You cry out his name like a mantra as you practically see stars from the intensity of your orgasm. He slows his movements, drawing out every last second of your orgasm and drinking in each and every drop of your slick as it drips and pools from your leaky hole.

As you pant above him on the bed, he slowly pulls his fingers from your core. You whine from the stimulation as he leans his cheek sweetly against your thigh with a pussy-drunk grin, your juices covering his chin. “You like that, pretty girl?”

You give him a broken nod as he allows you a moment to come down from your high, licking his fingers and humming in approval at your taste before standing up off the edge of the bed and letting his slacks and boxers drop. He pulls his shirt over his head, broad shoulders and rippling muscles a sight that has your pupils growing in size as your mouth waters at the sight of him.

Satoru is a beautiful human being, sweat beginning to slick his snowy white locks to his forehead and muscles covered in a faint sheen from his exertions. So handsome, and so hopelessly obsessed with you, there’s no use in trying to resist the hopeless attraction you feel for him.

The mattress dips as he crawls back over you, muscular arms at either side of your head as he hovers over you. The taste of your arousal is still fresh on his tongue, sending waves of lust through your body once again.

He ruts his length against your still-clothed cunt, eliciting a whimper at the friction against your clit. Using one hand to hold himself over you, he reaches down to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts from their confinement as he parts from your lips to take your nipple between his teeth, tongue swirling around the hardened skin.

Your nails dig into his bare shoulders and he groans against your skin, the vibration making you gasp in delight before he moves his attention to your left nipple, nipping at the skin and causing you to jump at the sudden feeling. He smirks up at you with darkened eyes when he parts from your breasts, reaching down to stroke his length.

Your eyes follow his movements, your lips parted as your gaze comes to rest on his cock. It’s long, the tip red and angry with lust and need as precum beads at the top. Satoru’s hand deftly thumbs the precum, watching as your pupils blow out further from watching his actions.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” He smirks arrogantly. Even during sex, he’s still Satoru.

“You’re such a dick,” you groan breathlessly, moving a hand from his shoulder to drape it over your face. Satoru eagerly removes your hand from your face, guiding you down to his cock.

His mouth hangs open, head falling back as he sits over your hips, moaning as you stroke him painfully slowly. You move your hand down to the base of his cock, watching his reaction with fervour as his chest rises and falls unevenly when your fingers tighten and his hips jerk as you move back up, a breathy moan falling from his lips.

God he looks like heaven kneeling over you with a blissed out expression.

“Toruuuu?”

The teasing lilt to your voice pulls Satoru’s attention down to your face, lidded eyes aglow with intrigue.

When you place your open palm on his chest, he pliantly allows you to flip yourself on top of him. While he does prefer to take charge and have you whimpering at his fingertips, the dark look in your eyes and the way his cock twitches is something he wants to explore as you slide down the bed.

Your eyes lock with Satoru’s eager ones as his tongue swipes out over his lower lip.

His cock leaks for you, twitching as you get closer.

“Needy, Toru?”

“I thought I talked too much,” he groans, fingers tangling in your hair as he urges you down. You lick one long stripe up his cock and his head falls back into the pillow, swallowing hard as pleasure snaps up his spine like lightning.

You loll your tongue out from your mouth, the taste of his precum salty, yet surprisingly sweet on your tongue as his hard cock twitches when he bottoms out in the back of your throat as you suppress a gag.

“Shit, baby y’look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he pants as he locks eyes with you again, mouth watering at the sight of you so pretty with your mouth filled.

You bob your head, setting a slow pace as his hips buck beneath you. He has to resist the urge to thrust his cock into the back of your throat with each time you swirl your tongue around the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Fuck, I-” He stammers over his words, fingers tangling in your hair and tugging as gently as he’s able to be, trying to let you keep control. “Please, don’t stop,” he moans, bucking his hips and guiding your head to pick up the pace as he encourages your movements, which grow more desperate as you press your thighs together in an effort to relieve the aching pressure in your stomach.

With each buck of his hips, Satoru’s movements grow more erratic as you chase his orgasm with your tongue until his breathing picks up and he suddenly pulls you off of his cock, taking control again as he flips himself onto you, grinning at your squeal of surprise.

He hops off the bed and you lick your lips as you watch him ardently open a drawer with little patience as he pulls a condom out and rolls it down his long member.

“Need t’be inside you,” he whispers in your ear as he crawls on top of you, pushing your legs apart as he handles you strangely delicately given the position he easily moves you into, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he lines himself up at your entrance.

His cock bobs and twitches with anticipation as slick from your leaking hole coats him from head to base. With the tip of his length pressed against your folds and your thighs tensing at either side of his broad shoulders, he looks to you, patient as he awaits your signal.

Your hips buck involuntarily as his pretty cock tip brushes your clit. You nod at Satoru breathlessly.

“Use your words, darlin’,” he urges like before, placing a sweet kiss on your nipple that pulls a whimper from you.

“Satoru, fuck me already,” you moan, mouth hanging open as he wastes no time pushing the tip of his cock into your greedy hole. You gasp at the delicious stretch, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as you pull him down for a hungry kiss, moaning into his mouth.

“Shit you’re tight,” Satoru groans, jerking within you as he waits for you to adjust to his large size.

Your fingers curl against the blades of his shoulders, nails leaving angry red marks as the stretch of mild pain turns to pure pleasure and you arch your back for him. Slowly, Satoru feeds you his length inch by inch until he bottoms out, his balls hitting the plush of your ass with a dirty smack.

Satoru places one more sweet kiss on your candied, saliva-covered lips before setting a devilishly fast pace, feeling your toes curl in delight on his back. Your cunt clenches around him with each deep thrust as he fucks you so passionately, yet so hungrily, his deep thrusts damn near ruining you.

Your nails run hard down the length of his back and he hisses through his teeth, kissing your thigh from where it’s folded over his shoulder. “Easy, baby.”

“Nnngh, Toru, hah-”

He kisses your other thigh, pulling out to adjust your position. You whine at the lack of contact as he sets your thighs down on the bed, positioning himself in missionary and pushing back in with speed that makes your stomach curl and twist in pleasure.

“Shit, S-Satoru-”

“Hah, love the way you moan my name so pretty.” His lips crash against yours, muffling your pleasured cry when his cock brushes your cervix, your vision blurring as he splits you open.

Your head spins as your abdomen knots and pressure builds steadily, your orgasm steadily approaching.

Satoru nips and sucks at the skin of your neck, his movements growing more and more sloppy as your walls pulse and clench around him and he knows you’re about to fall apart on his cock. He reaches down to rub little cirles onto your clit, mumbling against the skin of your neck, “c’mon baby, give ‘t t’me.” His voice is husky in your ear, shaking in time with your thighs that threaten to close around him.

Satoru erratically throws his weight against your ass, his balls tightening with each thrust as any sense of self-control falls from Satoru’s grasp and he grows mean, bullying his twitching cock into your tight little hole.

“S-Sa’toru-” you murmur, your mouth hanging open so hazily. He juts his hips, thrusting into you with such zeal that your eyes clench shut and you can’t help the way your nails rake his back as he hits your g-spot so headily that you’re squirming, babbles and moans falling from your mouth in pleasure.

“Stop runnin’ from me, baby.” Satoru groans, his hands locking to your waist as he holds you down. You see stars with each thrust until you’re crying out hoarsely as the knot in your stomach suddenly releases and your climax rips through you.

Your thighs shake as Satoru doesn’t relent, his movements growing erratic as he fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own climax. Your walls clench so tightly around him, the slick leaking from your overstimulated cunt dripping down his member until he’s falling apart over you.

“Sh-Shit pretty- ngh!” Satoru’s head falls forward as he holds himself up, his movements slowed to a halt as his cock jumps and twitches in your warm walls that hold him so tightly, his cum spurting into the condom. His breath comes in ragged pants, sweat dripping from the slicked strands of white hair that tickle your chest.

You’re whining as he pulls out slowly, the overstimulation so much, too much until he’s collapsing beside you. His body is sticky with perspiration as he pulls you onto his heaving chest, peppering the most saccharine sweet kisses along your cheek until he can feel you smiling.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

If it’s possible for your cheeks to heat up anymore, they do, reddening along the tips of your ears as you tilt your head to see him.

He’s glowing, a blissful smile spread over his lips as he admires you, such a sweet little thing in his arms.

“You’re kinda sappy, you know that?” You tease as you catch your breath, shifting to rest your chin on his rugged chest. Satoru’s arm fastens over your back.

“Maybe,” he shrugs, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “but the only person I’m trying to impress looks pretty happy with me right now.” He grins smugly, but those glossy big blue eyes shine with reverence.

You kiss his collar bone in response, laying your head down and basking in the euphoric silence.

No matter how long you spend with Satoru, each first with him still feels funny somehow. You could barely stand to be in the same room for so long and now you can barely stand to be apart.

You can feel the weariness in his bones as he kisses the crown of your head and slides out from under you. He was tired before, but the dark circles beneath his eyes give away just how exhausted he is now. Still, he smiles as he walks to the ensuite to grab a towel and toss out the condom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He hums, taking his time as he delicately runs the towel over your skin, cleaning your arousal from your legs as he so charmingly kisses your thighs.

You return his smile and thank him, opening your arms for him to cuddle into. He grins at the sight of you beckoning him to you and slides the blankets out from under you before playfully lunging under them as you hug him to your warm body.

He lets out a breath as he lays on his back, pulling your naked body snugly against him. You fit against the curves of his built form so perfectly, like puzzle pieces.

Satoru’s breathing begins to row rhythmic very quickly and you nuzzle into his chest, happy that he’s finally getting some rest and that it seems to come to him so easily in your arms. That is, until he surprises you when he blurts something out.

“Be my girlfriend.”

You lift your head off his chest to look at him, his pleading tone taking you by surprise. He cracks his eyes open, mirth swirling in the depths of his gaze, along with a glimmer of hopefulness.

He knows you could break him with one word, and that fear reflects in his tight-lipped expression.

He can see your fear, too, you’re sure of it. You can’t ignore the constant nag in the back of your head reminding you that everyone you’ve ever loved you’ve lost. The sting of wounds not yet healed, too recent to ignore.

Wounds that make you doubt if you’re doing the right thing. If by sleeping with Satoru you’re dooming him to that same fate. If by caring for Satoru, you’re dooming him to a fate even worse, if that’s at all possible.

“We’ve only been on one date-” you cut yourself off, it’s a meager excuse, a poor reflection of your fear.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he reassures you, seeing through the cracks of your hesitation. “I know you’ll keep me safe too.”

Your mouth opens and closes once, twice, doubt flickering in your features not because you don’t want this, but because it’s hard to ignore the past.

“Besides, we did everything else out of order anyway,” his voice carries a teasing lilt now as he answers your hesitant statement at surface-level. “We lived together before we were even friends, sex before we were dating, we’re all over the place.” He grins, poking the tip of your nose and you’re unable to help a giggle from passing through your lips at his nonchalance.

“I guess we did, didn’t we?” You let out a breath, resting your chin back on Satoru’s chest as you return his gleeful expression.

You can’t keep holding yourself back out of fear. You need to trust those around you. That much you know.

With a deep breath, you readjust yourself, crimson eyes ripe with adoration as you let go of your inhibitions.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Toru.”

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a/n || it's finally here!! was literally kickin my feet writing the cute lil date ♡ this has been swimming in my head for so long it's been so much fun to write but it does take me forever to write smut, it's definitely my least confident area which is admittedly why this chapter took so long but! i'm happy with how it turned out c: i also have a couple of drabbles that came out this past week if you want to check those out, and a modern!sukuna oneshot coming soon that i'm super happy with so keep an eye out for that as well!

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flameswallower · 1 year ago

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Briar's Favorite First Time Reads of 2023!

I read sixty or so books (start to finish) for the first time this year, which is pretty average for me. I liked most of them pretty well, since if I dislike a book I usually won't finish it. But there were some stand outs, which I'm going to list here.

First up: NOVELS!

Pseudotooth, by Verity Holloway (2017) is the first portal fantasy coming of age novel I've read in a long, long time that I found genuinely charming. It has a very dark Gothic edge to it, with shades of Gormenghast and Edward Gorey making for a uniquely unsettling and bleak fantasy world. The novel also deals frankly and seriously with themes of ableism, eugenics, medical abuse, xenophobia, socio-economic class, rape/sexual abuse, and the psychic fallout of rape/sexual abuse. But it's got a lot of whimsical absurdist humor to it, too, and a deep humanist compassion for its characters. The three young adults at the center of the story are all quite likeable, and though they are involved in a kind of love triangle, I found the particulars of it refreshingly queer, strange, and not the primary focus of the story.

The Marigold, by Andrew F. Sullivan (2023) is a pitch-dark, stone cold bummer that is also frequently hilarious and emotionally moving in tender ways that took me by surprise. In this dystopian satire, a bunch of down-and-out relatable characters and one horrible rich guy struggle to survive as near-future Toronto is engulfed by "the Wet"-- a sapient mold-based hive mind accidentally created by the depravity and greed of big business. The residents of the titular condominium/apartment complex feature in short vignettes that demonstrate the despair and alienation people suffer under late stage capitalism, and the way the Wet calls to these people, lures them in, hunts them.

The Open Curtain, by Brian Evenson (2006) is a harrowing nightmare about madness, violence, possession, Mormonism, and the destabilization of one's known reality (well, see also "madness"). It's a type of story that could easily feel shlocky and exploitative of people with certain mental disorders, or just predictable (there are some plot twists you'll guess very quickly if you've ever like...read books or seen movies before...), but Evenson's unornamented yet masterful prose, his meticulous attention to detail, and his non-condescending empathy for both victims of violence and people struggling with delusions, violent impulses, etc. make it rise above those potential problems. At least in my opinion! This one's very disturbing, will definitely leave you feeling like shit.

Hummingbird Salamander, by Jeff VanderMeer (2021) is very emotionally moving and a suspenseful, well-plotted eco-noir page turner! Also a bummer, but leaves one feeling awe and hope and determination as well as mourning the devastating loss of life that climate change has wrought. The protagonist is great, a truly unusual and unlikely detective. I loved her voice-- like any good noir hero, she can throw off a legitimately funny sarcastic quip with the best of them, but she's also prone to astute social observations and flights of breathtaking lyricism.

How to Get Over the End Of the World, by Hal Schrieve (2023) is a TRAGICALLY under-promoted and underrated punk rock magical realist YA masterpiece about trans high schoolers, and their dysfunctional adult mentors, putting on a rock opera to save their community center. This one, unlike most of what I read, is NOT EVEN KIND OF A BUMMER. It's delightful and hilarious from start to finish, though it's definitely not saccharine-sweet or afraid of conflict. In fact, it deals quite bluntly and refreshingly with topics ranging from the relationship one character has with his violent, abusive father, to sexual relationships between teenagers, to the ever-looming awareness of climate change. Every major character is trans! Every single one!! This is kind of a spoiler, but, like, not really lol

Sudden Glory, by Hal Johnson (2023) just goes to show that guys named Hal can really write comic novels. This book has perhaps the highest joke-to-paragraph ratio of anything I’ve ever read, and also probably the most varied types of joke: a person whose sense of humor runs to preposterous situation comedy, slapstick, and lowbrow sexual humor will find a lot to like here, and so will someone whose sense of humor runs to moderately esoteric literary/historical references, social satire, five-layer wordplay, and Wildean bon mots. Since it’s set in the New York City of 2003, there’s even room for a few 9/11 jokes, which could not have appeared without controversy in a book actually published in 2003. This slightly "politically incorrect" edge comes off as good-natured and in keeping with Johnson's commitment to absurdism-- there's never a "laughing at" vibe, more one of "laughing with" human folly, futility, pretensions, etc. At base, this is a story about a person who feels he can't tell the truth or be himself for fear of social rejection, and all the trouble that gets him into.

Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke (2020) is fucking gorgeous, probably one of my favorite books of all time now, this hole was made for me, etc. I can't reasonably expect that most others will have as intense a response to it as I did-- I felt it perfectly conveyed some very important and difficult to articulate things about, like, my personal experience of consciousness, and my experience as a person with certain types of neurological/cognitive/developmental disability navigating the world, through a kind of fabulist prism. But it got great reviews, so, you know, give it a shot! I think it's better not to know anything about it going in, but let me just say, if you're into weird, massive labyrinthine buildings, this hole might also have been made for you.

Devil House, by John Darnielle (2022) is exactly the novel you'd expect "the Mountain Goats guy" to write, in all the best possible ways. It's a story that elevates the inner lives of neurodivergent outsider teens to the mythic heights they deserve. It's a story that brutally critiques the true crime industry. It's a story about the problems of defining people exclusively by their victimhood, or exclusively by the worst thing they ever did. It's a story about the importance of having a little space to oneself, a shelter from the demands and threats of an often cruel world, and the lengths to which a person will go to defend such a shelter if it's broached. Also, there's a long, nauseating section about how it's actually really difficult and gross to chop up a human corpse for disposal.

#next: short story collections and anthologies!!

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rosesfox · 11 months ago

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hi 💓 your ouabh posts were actually the reason why i finally started reading this series, so thank you! i just finished reading acftl for true love a few days ago and absolutely loved it. i was actually surprised when i found out that some people were disappointed with acftl because i thought it was a perfect conclusion to the series. i love it so so much. however, i think stephanie garber just struggles with concluding her series in general because i read the caraval series a few years ago and thought finale was sort of a weak conclusion? i do think acftl was definitely an improvement from finale but i think stephanie just doesn’t know how to wrap up her series. nevertheless, acftl was still so amazing.

another thing that i was so surprised to see with this fandom is that there are people who actually ship tellajacks. i remember reading caraval and thinking that their relationship felt so forced and toxic. jacks clearly does not care for tella and throughout the whole caraval series, all he does is care about himself. it is a bit strange to see that people thought he actually loved tella when all he did was simply love the idea of finally breaking his curse.

ALSO i saw people were disappointed that jacks didn’t give a huge love confession in acftl. to be honest, he does not seem like the person to give a long speech like that so i wasn’t expecting that from him. however, i was so shocked that he said “i love you” to eva. saying i love you to someone is a such a huge thing to say someone, and i think some readers do not understand how important that phrase is, especially when it’s coming from jacks. i thought his love confession was perfect and so romantic.

their first kiss was also so perfect, and it makes me kind of sad to see that some people were disappointed with that scene as well. the way jacks was so careful and gentle during that scene is a stark contrast to the scenes we got of him in the caraval series. in caraval, he was reckless and wild. but with eva, he was sooo careful, and i think that really reflects how he has changed through the five books. also, when he dropped his heart because he couldn’t help kissing her back 🥹 i swooned.

i think what makes evajacks so special and sets them apart from stephanie’s other ships in the caraval universe is that we got to see their relationship develop. it wasn’t insta-love or forced. we actually got to see how both eva and jacks started to truly care for each other and fall in love. it felt so natural. eva and jacks would simply do anything for each other, and i think their love is so beautiful.

that's so sweet, i'm so glad to hear it. 🥰 thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.

i very much agree. in one of my analyzes i talked about how evajacks were privileged in a certain way, as they had a very conclusive ending. they are together, they love each other, they are living together and stupidly in love. i mean, it's more than the other sg couples have had so far. i don't think caraval's ending is bad, but it's so abrupt that it feels like there's really a lack of content there. it doesn't really feel like an ending.

it's very surprising to me to even look back and see that people actually liked tellajacks. 😅 i believe this is largely due to jacks' charm and humor, but there is no romance, much less a love triangle, since tella only thinks about the legend throughout the two books in which she is admittedly the protagonist.

i almost didn't expect an ''i love you'' either. i really like this confession of his, i think it suits the character a lot. you know, coming from jacks, especially, this is huge and really shows how he was just madly in love with eva, from my perspective.

YES, HE BEING CAREFUL! it's really a wonderful contrast to when he kissed tella to manipulate and kill her, again showing us how much he, above all, cares for evangeline, how much he loves her. he was so insecure, so scared of losing her and almost went crazy when he thought he had killed her. it's such a cute detail that stephanie added, i even think it was one of the reasons why she chose not to make evajacks' kiss so urgent at first. (although they both get excited in the middle of the kiss and things get hotter! 🤭)

it was so beautiful to see the evajacks falling in love, despite all the odds. they are the greatest couple we have! 😭❤️

#evajacks #ouabh #tbona #acftl #jacks prince of hearts

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possum-quesadilla · 8 months ago

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Hey! Here are some fun notes and details from my Beetlejuice timeloop fanfic, Time is a Flat Circle. I wanted to put these somewhere because most of them won’t be acknowledged in the text.

Chapter one:

- The title of the chapter is a line from the song “The Heroine” by Unwoman, and is very literal in how it applies to Beetlejuice, obviously. He has to go through all of the emotions of the loop over and over again. The rest of the song is about an actress lamenting how she has the sympathies of the audience, but that someone who promised to come see her show never did. I feel like this is prevalent for our rancid little fella!

- There is a few mentions of his right ear in particular; “His constantly swiveling ears irritated his mother to no end. (There was always a faint ringing in his right ear, at the edge of his awareness. The notch in that ear still aches sometimes.)” “… by a flick to his left ear. (He always makes sure to sit with his left side facing Lydia because of this.)” This is referencing an injury he sustained in his younger years due to his mother, which likely will not come up in story. There is a notch in his ear due to it being cut, and he has partial hearing loss on his right side. He tilts his head to both imitate human body language and to better amplify his limited hearing, since he usually doesn’t have his swiveling, pointed ears to help him when he’s fully disguised.

- “His anchoress from another mess” was an idea from one of my dear friends, I do not take credit for this great line

- “A photo album sits on a vanity in the corner, faintly scented with a faux-floral chemical smell that makes Lydia’s eyes get misty whenever she catches the scent.” This is referencing a perfume that belonged to Lydia’s mom that still stick to the photo album. The smell is very faint to humans, but fairly strong to Beetlejuice.

- “If he squinted, Beetlejuice could read ‘New York’, but not much else.” - Beej has a hard time reading, his eyes weren’t built for that. Glasses would help. He also never really took the time to learn how to read modern English. If he could read it, he’d see that it’s a university sweatshirt, which belonged to Lydia’s mom!

- “… that Top Dollar fella’s voice has got me all hot and bothered,” - he is referencing a character played by Michael Wincott, who has a wonderful and hypnotic deep voice. I imagine BJ also has a ‘crush’ on Tony Todd’s character for similar reasons - envy. He would love for his voice to sound like theirs, rather than how raggedy his own is.

- “on a mountain of odd little round plush creatures,” These are a mixture of squishmallows and various strange gothic looking plushies, mostly gifted to Lydia from an aunt who wasn’t sure what else to get her. BJ has obviously never seen a squishmallow before.

- “Excitedly clacking his teeth,” this is one of BJ’s most common stims, as well as mine. It makes an audible noise that can be unsettling.

- “Triangle, Happy Death Day, Palm Springs, Edge of Tomorrow, Coherence, on and on the list went. Even a few episodes of some random shows.” these are all movies (and some TV show episodes) I watched for reference for this fic on time loops. Of course I made Beej suffer through the same homework, lol

Chapter two:

- The title is from “In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator Song)” by David Lynch, which is from the movie Eraserhead! The movie itself is rather dark, and the song comes at a moment that the main character is considering that maybe heaven would be better than his current situation. For Beetlejuice, this pertains to how he is trying to convince himself that this is as close to happy as he’ll get, and that everything is indeed fine, even though it isn’t.

- “it was always delightful to wake with the sun only to choose to roll over and sleep a bit more.” This either comes from that snake part of him or that cat-like part of him, but my guy loves to sunbathe. He cannot see well in sunlight, but he enjoys how it feels!

- “Lydia had grabbed him by the right ear and scolded him. “Give them space, Beej,” she said firmly. “We’re going to have a little chat about boundaries soon, you really- Beetlejuice? What’s wrong?” She had released his ear with an oddly tender look replacing her scowl, her gaze drifting above his eyeline. “Your hair-“” - It’s because of the aforementioned injury and the trauma surrounding it :)

- “Lydia, at the Maitlands’ insistence, would order something somewhat healthy. (Usually Italian.)” Beetlejuice considers pizza healthy. It is likely the closest he gets to eating a vegetable for now.

- “they would order an absurd amount of cookies and, of course, shirk the payment by having one of his clones pretend to be a dead body they were feasting on. Halfway through their large pizza/cookie/cake monstrosity (isn’t human ingenuity a marvel?),” his is a reference to insomnia cookie and their spectacular pizza cookies. I am obsessed.

- “the gothic teen decides that they simply must watch one of her favorite films; Coraline.” like many weird girls (shout out to my sister), Coraline is a comfort movie for Lydia. Aside from the pajama pants, she also has a plush of the cat, a poster, and a replica of the doll from the film.

- “this odd little breather film always made his chest tight and his nerves fraught. He had no clue why.” BJ doesn’t understand, but the movie is triggering to him due to the similarities between the Other Mother and Juno.

- “With a jaunty slide whistle type-noise that he knew would bring an amused smirk to Lydia’s lips, Beetlejuice sprouted a third arm from his side and extended it towards the stairs.” This is a tongue-in-cheek reference to the silly sound effects and visual effects used in the show pertaining to Beetlejuice and extra or disembodied limbs.

- “He also didn’t have any siblings, to his knowledge.” Hm. Interesting!

- “Most loops, his body is still thrumming with a strange electricity that he can’t quite explain. It stems from where she gripped his hands, spreading throughout his whole body. Although he enjoys the contact, most often it’s just too much for any more.” This is overstimulation due to the contact. He likes it, but he is not used to it, so his mind overreacts.

- “The eyeliner really made his golden eyes pop, and the purple lipstick made his grin look even more sinister.” BJ is no makeup expert, so he doesn’t catch that Lydia bases the look she applies on Frank-N-Furter’s makeup.

- I set Rocky Horror Picture Show as a backdrop to Lydia’s coming out as a lesbian (and possibly more) as a sort of fun nod to how pivotal the film was to my own gender identity journey!

- “what brought on this amazin’ revelation? Any lucky ladies in particular catch your fancy?” There were indeed some “lucky ladies” who brought this on, but they are fictional: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, and Ellen Ripley from Alien!

- “Lydia gasps, stepping away from the clone to inspect it. “He-… it’s you?”” All of the clones use it/its pronouns!

- “He had no say in what his clones looked like, he found, so he had long since stopped trying.” that is not entirely true - he can influence what they look like with a lot of concentration, but our dear demon severely lacks in that department.

- “The clone flutters it’s eyelashes and puts a hand on it’s cheek, waving its other hand in a sort of bashful ‘oh, stop!’ motion.” This is one of the two ways I react to compliments as well. (The other is saying “shut up” then immediately apologizing)

- “A red poncho with a spider-web pattern,” This is, of course, a reference to Lydia’s outfit in the cartoon!

- “a “mermaid style” black dress after a particular television character,” This dress is based on Morticia Addams, obviously

- “a fetching light pink dress covered in little red flowers and finished with a bright pink belt.” this is a nod to her dress in the film!

- “He had no idea why she asked, and similarly not a Scooby-Doo what it meant himself.” This is a silly way of saying “a clue”. More people (in person) are stumped by this than you’d think!

- “As Beetlejuice pulls the good ol’ fashioned midwestern special, slapping his thighs and going “welp” to signal it’s time for him to go,” shout out to my coworker for the phrasing of “good ol’ fashioned midwestern special” when he called me out for doing this.

- “Every part of the second day, especially the latter half, is especially draining to him. He’s not sure why, but he often chooses to blame it on his liberal use of his powers…” It is the use of his powers, but also the physical contact, socialization, and abundance of stimuli.

Chapter three:

- This title is from “Dinner Is Not Over” by Jack Stauber, my favorite musician! It actually promotes suicide prevention. The song talks about having many experiences, including a brush with death. The idea of death is very tempting to the person singing, but he says it’s “for desert” and he can “have it when dinner is done”. (Basically, yes death is tempting, but there’s so much more to your life to experience and look forward to.) It’s a hauntingly beautiful song, while also being uplifting and catchy! The lyric for the title in particular refers to how Beetlejuice’s own constant brushes with death and eternal rest is seeming more and more desirable with each passing loop, but he keeps going for Lydia and the Maitlands.

- “You’re Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth. There’s no fixing that. You were born rotten and broken, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” This is a reference to a scene in BoJack Horseman that hit me really deep. Beatrice, the main character’s mother, tells him, “You were born broken. That's your birthright. ... You're BoJack Horseman. There's no cure for that." I feel like Beatrice and Juno have quite a bit in common, and I wanted to nod to it to help give the reader a better understanding of the demoness in this short scene. She really influences Beetlejuice’s actions, so I think getting a read on her is important.

- “Barbara opens it moments later, all smiles and cheery greetings. It fades very quickly when she realizes who it is, but he often likes to imagine it’s for him.” Barbara thought it was Lydia coming to her senses about the whole situation.

- “Beetlejuice clacks his teeth together out of excitement before he can help it. (He’s probably imagining it, but he swears sometimes he can see Barbara smile then.)” The first hints at Barbara finding him endearing. Most would find the clacking off-putting, but she likes strange men. I cannot judge. My type is weird too.

- “Got a good couple shots of your graves. Real well loved and placed, if you ask me.” This is inspired by Adam talking about how he wishes he could see their graves in the movie.

- “He began to scratch at the counter through his jacket sleeve to, once again, ground himself with the pain.” Another stim taken straight from me. Unfortunately, I absentmindedly scratch harshly at my skin sometimes when very anxious or overstimulated. Sometimes it breaks skin, but it mostly just irritates it. Beej has sharp as fuck claws, so he accidentally does more than break skin much more often.

- “… Beetlejuice flinched as he heard one of the clones hit the ground with a ridiculous ‘splat’ noise. He forced the nonplussed smile back onto his face and ignored the dull ache in his legs. He’d clean it up later.” This will come up later, but BJ feels what his clones feel, just way less intense.

- “Several large, round ‘terracotta’ pots (he had read they were real good for plants) lined the other two edges of the roof.” He got these both because he read they're good for plants and because he knows (well, thinks) Barbara appreciates good pottery.

- “I mean, that you had those little plants in the window of your kitchen,” “Like how he knew Barbara would sing to the plants to help them grow.”, “I, uh… I got a buncha stuff for a ‘salad garden’, since you were trying to start one up before.” These are all references to similar things that Barbara’s original broadway actor, Kerry Butler did in her dressing room! She seems like a real sweetie.

- “Tomatoes, lettuce, peppers, par-… pars-…” Beetlejuice is trying to say parsley, but he’s never heard of that herb before. Unlike Alex Brightman, he does not Know His Herbs.

- ““These are marguerite daisies,” She finally said, soft but just loud enough to stop his endless word vomit.” Daisies represent friendship, joy, and well wishes. BJ didn’t purposefully pick flowers with those meanings, but I did!

- “Who would want to hug a wretched, rotten little beast like him?” The phase “wretched, rotten little beast” is from the Five Nights at Freddy’s movie, which I am obsessed with.

- “She smelled faintly of perfume and blood and the iced tea she drank just before she died.” “Aftershave stung at his nose, followed swiftly by the faint scent of blood, but he found he didn’t mind it too much.” Only Beetlejuice can smell the blood and the iced tea. Everyone can smell the perfume and aftershave.

- “He’d sometimes spend the time rooting through the garage fridge for soda cans, then play a game he called ‘who can knock out the most teeth with an exploding soda can?’ with three of his clones.” This is based on a game I played with my friends once when I was eight. I won. Do not recommend.

- Although he is using her as a segway to get Lydia to talk about her mom, BJ did actually have a beloved pet possum named Rabies. (And he did get rabies.) He found her abandoned by her mother, and she often clung to his back and ate the bugs in his hair. He took great care of her until she died of natural causes. He does genuinely miss her, and kept her skull as a way to remember her.

- “Beetlejuice had to bite back the ugly jealousy bubbling up in his throat. He would’ve loved to have a mother like Emily Deetz, instead of the horrible demoness Juno. Maybe in another lifetime.” This is a cheeky reference to the wonderful fic that inspired me to write LoopJuice, moonbunnyblues’s Lawrence “BJ” Deetz AU! Give it a read, it’s a work of art.

- ““Oh yeah, I’m in my prime, kiddo. This is what a real professional bio-exorcist looks like.” “… if you say so.”” she doesn’t believe him here, but at this point she doesn’t know him well enough to care to ask further questions.

- “Can I touch it?” Lydia was not allowed to touch it.

- “Fuck. He had rolled his sleeve up for dramatic effect. He had completely forgotten about the counter.” He had rolled his sleeves up to make a comment about how he did “all the work around here and got no thanks”.

- “It was astounding to see the array of things you could have brought right to your doorstep. Holy water was one of those things.” I looked this up. You really can order holy water on amazon!

Chapter four:

- This title is from “Deviltown” by Cavetown, specifically V.2 because that is my favorite version. It’s about growing up in a tumultuous home, specifically being a child of divorce. The cyclical and downtrodden nature of the song reflects BJ’s outlook at this point in the story, but the title line specifically refers to how his pain is being lessened by no longer being alone in his suffering.

- “He reminded her of the infuriating type of people that made the couple stop attending those improv classes last year; someone who just didn’t know when to stop, when to turn it off.” This is a cheeky reference to how I view the original film’s Beetlejuice. I will say no more on that subject.

- “Beetlejuice kept his distance, always remaining out of arm’s reach. If anyone besides Lydia got too close, he seemed to find an excuse to sidle away again.” He avoids contact from anyone but his BFFF (and the double thank you hug) at this point because it’s overstimulating.

- “Barbara thinks she remembers him flinching at the screams of terror he claimed to love.” Even his favorite sound is too overstimulating at this point.

- “It honestly reminded her of the times she had seen Adam go through burnout.” I WONDER WHY

- “reaching out to pull the demon waiting on the other side through it by the forearm. Beetlejuice, obviously startled, wrenched his arm away and- did he just hiss at them?” , “desperately grasping at Beetlejuice’s arm and pulling it from Adam’s now limp grasp to check the number again. 91,250. She must have grabbed him too harshly, as the demon sucked in a breath through his teeth and yanked his arm away from her.” They both unknowingly caused immense pain to the scratches around the counter.

- “Now, though, after only a few seconds, he became wheezy, the laughter tapering off into a rather wet sounding coughing fit. Beetlejuice slammed a fist against his chest with a hollow ‘thump’ sound a few times until the coughing subsided.” He is still somewhat recovering from Juno breaking his ribs. He likely will never be fully healed from it.

- “She’d learnt about this method from one of her and Adam’s true crime documentary nights.” Barbara enjoys them, Adam finds them macabre but irresistible.

- “He was holding it with his right hand, but his grip was off, like he wasn’t quite used to using that hand. Maybe he is just really out of practice? What do demons even really need to write?” Beej is left handed, but using his right hand. I wonder why! (He also is just generally out of practice and doesn’t have good handwriting anyways.)

- Beetlejuice struggles with the math because I also had to struggle with the math.

- “Beetlejuice hesitantly nodded, glancing at the door out of the attic before continuing to stare up at Barbara.” He is considering bolting here. He thinks the Maitlands are mad at him.

- “Going through the motions again and again, suffering the heartache and real physical pain.” Another cheeky reference, this time to the title of the first chapter.

- “Eventually, he let out a little growl of frustration. (A literal growl. It reminded Barbara of a small dog trying it’s best to be intimidating.)” I’d describe his growl as between a dog’s and a cat’s. Throaty, not very intimidating unless he really means it. Then it’s more like that of a Rottweiler.

Chapter five:

- This title is from “So Long” by Tokyo Elvis. I can’t find much online about the song, but it has that good cyclical feeling I look for in songs for this fic. This line specifically refers to how Beetlejuice is trying to hold on to the fleeting joy he finds among the routine of the loop, but he can’t hold on to it forever.

- “It would be an understatement to call Adam Maitland a nervous wreck. He was more like a bundle of nerves fumbling around in a bipedal visage of a man.” This is taken from how Overly Sarcastic Productions described H.P. Lovecraft in their video about the nasty man. I thought it was very fitting for Adam!

- “Beetlejuice seemed pretty preoccupied with the task of staring blankly at the ground and cracking all of his fingers one by one over and over again.” Another unsettling stim I share with Beej <3

- “Beetlejuice is quiet at first. His eyes dart from Adam’s to Barbara’s, then to various different spots in the attic. Eventually, he lets out an exasperated sigh, leaning heavily back onto the couch. The navy blue of his hair and suit phases back to the same indigo from before in the blink of an eye. “I don’t have a Scooby-Doo, A-Dog,” he groans. He dramatically rests his left wrist against his forehead. The strange phrasing and sudden change in energy threw Adam off quite a bit. He floundered somewhat, trying to process as the demon continued to speak. “Your guess is as good as mine at this point. Probably even better.”” On goes the mask! He’s totally a great liar. I’m sure this won’t bite him in the ass later.

- “ “Well, it obviously has to do with you, right?” Beetlejuice’s eyes snapped back open to stare him down.” He got real worried that Adam caught on here.

- “summoning other demons,” I wonder if this will come back later!

- “No matter how… persuasive I was, you humans always gave me the boot.” He is too proud to admit he was begging on his knees.

- “Follow the script.” “The… hold on now, ‘the script’? What are you talking about?” Barbara and Adam don’t capitalize the same things as Beej because they don’t categorize things the way he does.

- “The demon put a hand over where his heart would be.” Adam is unaware, but Beej does have a heart! It just doesn’t really work.

- “Beetlejuice held his arms out at his sides in exasperation.” This pose was specifically meant to emulate Mae Borowski from Night in the Woods, since she and Beetlejuice are both “total trash mammals”.

- “Sure it does. And I’m a Tony award winner.” This is, of course, a joke about his original Broadway actor being a Tony award winner. And a way of the text sorta telling Beej that he’s wrong, and his pain does matter.

- “Beetlejuice let out a snarl that actually caused a primal sort of fear to grip at Adam’s psyche.” There’s the Rottweiler growl! Any shows of aggression from a demon causes the human brain to go all “ahhh danger run away”.

- “I’m Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth, I’m a fuckin’ demon … I’m a rotten, irredeemable monster…” Hmmm, I wonder where we heard this from before?

- “… vanished in a puff of green smoke. (The weird little trick actually worked this time.)” This is a reference to Beetlejuice having a malfunctioning smokebomb in the Broadway show.

- “He pretended to be fatally wounded when Lydia chucked an amethyst at his chest…” Amethysts represent sincerity and promote friendship! At least according to my friend who has a million crystals.

- “Beetlejuice scooped Lydia up into his arms bridal style…” Hehe.

And here’s a few fun comments I left on the doc containing the fic for myself:

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice the musical #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #LoopJuice #adam maitland #barbara maitland #lydia deetz #Time is a Flat Circle #LoopJuice extras

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