#I love it but this is going to kill me when I try handwriting 😭���

[notaplaceofhonour]

lol okay who decided 3 entire letters were going to be literally just a single straight vertical line I just want to talk

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[norikuna]

(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

[pray-montana]

as a fellow Maxime Le Mal enjoyer, i was wondering if you had any specific ideas/headcanons about him? any predictions for the film (beyond the FUN stuff some of the toys/shots from the trailers have hinted at 😉)? would love to hear your thoughts :3c

Hi! Thanks for your question. Now I finally got my thoughts together👏

Well, I'll start with the serious part:

First of all, I saw a similarity between him and me: when one is filled with self-confidence, one easily steps into the spotlight, hits one's opponent with a sharp tongue, etc.

But this behavior also has the other side of the coin, which was mentioned even by Renaud and Ferrell themselves: behind the feigned affectation and bright charisma, there is a huge lack of self-confidence. Renaud spoke about an incident that happened to Maxime in high school but did not reveal details. (I think those who have already delved into the lore of Maxime Le Mal will guess what we're talking about.) He tries in every possible way to hide his inner demons, showing this with his clothes, his self presentation, and even the fact that he hooked up with the most beautiful girl in his high school. It seems to me that, first of all, he proves to everyone and himself that he's not a loser, while all Gru does is convince the whole world of the opposite. Ferrell promises that Maxime is a very deep character, and even called him "the most despicable" in one of his recent videos, and the others agreed with him. And, I think, in the end, being extremely angry at Gru and blaming him for all the troubles will not play into his hands...

And now let's have some fun🤌

1. I think he styles his hair every day, hiding the cockroach antennae beneath his hair, and from time to time he checks with his fingers whether they've come out and pushes them back in.

2. He doesn't drive his giant ship for some stupid reason. Afraid of driving? Hypersensitivity? Being distracted by something more interesting while driving? In any case, Valentina simply rolled her eyes and took the driving into her own hands without trying to correct his behavior.

3. In the gas station scene, we see how quickly Maxime explodes if things don't go according to plan. I can imagine the apocalypse that would begin in his home if he didn’t find a sock or ran out of hairspray...🔥🔥🔥

4. His hyperfixation on the topic of cockroaches is also a reflection of his emotions and insecurities. He proves that he accepts himself and makes it his thing. My favorite quote: “Don’t kill the cringe part of yourself. Kill the part that cringes.”

5. He feels really sick from dichlorvos. No need to sprinkle it next to Maxime

6. Venus flytraps too. He'll stick his finger in there because the flower "smells too good and he had to try it"😭

7. He has beautiful, calligraphic handwriting that is impossible not to read hearing his voice. The letters he wrote in Valentine cards for VALENTINA will melt anyone because he's a master of words.

8. He is friends with insects, like Snow White with animals. Just as saccharine as she is. (If he sings a song to them, will they run around him???)

9. His pet cockroach is part of their family.

10. Most likely, he needed a cane for some time due to health reasons, but now it’s just a feature.

[thefanficmonster]

could you PLEASE do some Santi (from food theory) x reader fluff , I haven’t found many ficus of Santi and that man is FINE😩😩

Hello dearest! Your request has made me so happy! I absolutely ADORE Santi and I'd love nothing more than to write for him ❤ Also I beg you to send me any fics you've found of him I haven't been able to find any and it's killing me 😭

Enjoy the fluff hun and feel free to send in as many Santi requests as you'd like, I'm always excited to fulfill them 💌

Being married to Santi would include...

A constantly messy kitchen

And I mean constantly

But that mess always produces something, well, delicious at best and interesting at worst

Tell me what other time you'd be able to try homemade Prime cake

Yeah, that's what I thought

Waking up in the middle of the night/odd hours of the morning to a commotion in the kitchen

Clinking of pots, pans and utensils, opening and closing of cabinets

And you'll be damned if you don't go witness it first hand

It being Santi in his element, charged with a new recipe idea for Food Theory

You're the first person to taste test all his creations and although you've sworn to always be honest with your rankings it's hard to put your biases aside

You two started dating a month before his birthday and at the time you knew very little about him apart from his love for his culinary career

So, strapped on what to get him, you resorted with going with a safe option, something you knew would come in handy

That ended up being a notebook designed specifically to store recipes

Seven years later, he still has it, as well as every single one you've gotten him throughout the years after he managed to fill the previous from cover to cover with his rushed but still somehow tidy handwriting

He refuses to digitally input any recipe that comes to his mind, which is why one of your notebooks is constantly within arm's reach

When you two aren't swamped with work, you find upmost joy just spending time together

It can be the most insignificant things like literally laying on the couch together in silence

That is enough to make your day

But there are also those cute dates you still go on even after years of marriage

The spark never did nor will it ever die down

You two will forever be crazy for one another

You can see how much one loves their significant other based on how many exceptions they make and how many principles they break for them

Santi has always had a strict rule - when he's in the kitchen, elbow deep in the realization of a new recipe, he wants no one in the vicinity

Yeah, well, that rule doesn't apply for you

He's always more than happy to have you around

Even with years of experience under his belt, he doesn't always trust himself with his culinary endeavors

That's where you come in to reassure him

He does still have a hard time accepting help, but he's adapting

He knows he can count on you and you can count on him

That's what makes your marriage so strong

And your love for each other unmeasurable

[sohmiya]

I woke up obsessing over Maxine & Evren soo I present to you my early morning hcs:

I imagine that when E wins some kind of award for their single/album/music video and they go up on stage to do their whole acceptance speech, I see them wanting to thank Max in a sweet & personal way that the media doesn’t take out of proportion; so E would slip an inside joke into their speech, an inside joke that only Max would understand so they’d still be able to show their appreciation.

Oo, I also see them casually hanging together and E randomly asks, “do you have a picture of you without red hair?” and Max nods and then E’s like “can I see it?” and Max laughs and says, “absolutely fucking not.”

E loves writing lists, so in an au where fwb turns into caught feelings from both sides, I see E going over to Max’s place and having a pros & cons list written up — pros of why they could work together in a relationship and cons as to why they wouldn’t and it’d be like:

Pros — other than the fact our sex is great

^ And there’d be a super long list like: ‘I think about her a lot, we make a good team, she’s one of the people who actually gets me, we’re so alike & different at the same time, I think her band sorta likes me, I can be myself around her & obsess over shit like writing & books, I haven’t met many people who are so talented and hardworking, we make good music together’ etc etc.

And the cons list is: ‘paparazzi…, the media…, and maybe her ex will hate me (but I love a good rivalry, so maybe this point isn’t so bad)’

THE INSIDE JOKE AT THE AWARD SPEECH MADE MY HEART SWELL 🥹🥹🥹 inside jokes are a whole love language i love them

I also see them casually hanging together and E randomly asks, “do you have a picture of you without red hair?” and Max nods and then E’s like “can I see it?” and Max laughs and says, “absolutely fucking not.”

PLSJDSKS I LITERALLY CACKLED AT THIS BECAUSE ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT IS SUCH A MAXINE THING TO SAY LMFAOJDSKSK

and evren making a relationship list :((((( he’s so endearing please he was born to be lover but forced to be a fuckboy. i will Kill the paparazzi and every single person who’s ever used him for his fame 😡

but yeah i can imagine the list having a lot of words struck off because he wanted to say everything right and his handwriting would be messy from writing so quickly because his mind was racing and udgssjkak literally crying i need himmmmm

“i think her band sorta likes me” THEY LOVE YOU!!!!!!!! and yes the sex is great hehehehehe 🤭

and “maybe her ex will hate me” JHSJWJDNSJA maxine would laugh at this like the whole list would give her butterflies and i can imagine just covering her face to hide her blush and evren trying to pry her hands off of her because “i wanna see your pretty face” and maxine would go “uuuugh shut uupppp” but she’d be blushing like HELLLL and she’d let him take her hands and evren would put it on his chest so maxine could feel his heart beating fast just for her UNGHHHHHHHH

also can you imagine them finally getting together but they don’t announce it. like only a few close friends know about them but maxine goes out in public wearing evren’s shirt or sunglasses and eagle eyed fans would go “WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE-” 😭😭

ALSO my brother put some yt playlist on shuffle and “leave before you love me” by jonas brothers came on and i just think that was written for them 💔💔💔

[ssparksflyy]

heyyy can i pls get a rachel elizabeth dare x fem! reader ? maybe in which the reader finds some drawings of her in rachel's sketchbook (you know, artist in love)

p.s: im working in your request <3

ask and thou shall recieve ༉‧₊˚.

draw me like one of your french girls ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

pairing rachel elizabeth dare x fem!reader summary your girlfriend has always proudly shown you all her artwork, or so you thought an hihi! tysm for requesting! i hope this fits what u imagined :DD also best believe i took inspo from ghostflower to make thisss AND ik it says rachel lives in the oracle's CAVE but like nah lemme give me girl a flippin cabin omg 😭

at this point, it was just routine for you to head to rachel's cabin after activities.

your last activity of the day before dinner was arts and crafts. you found it funny, how you'd spend around an hour or so trying to paint the simplest thing, fail, and then head to rachel's, only to find her painting the next mona lisa.

that made you all the more impressed and appreciative of rachel's artwork. some days, she'd be in her 'painters trance' and you'd just watch her paint. you found yourself in your own trance, watching her simply glide the paintbrush across the canvas and manage to create a masterpiece. forget davinci, picasso, or van gogh. rachel was your favorite artist.

today, in arts and crafts, you had experimented with clay. you managed to sculpt out a pretty good-looking strawberry. you planned to give it to rachel later, after all, they were her favorite fruit. she loved taking you on walks through the strawberry fields, holding your hand and smiling the whole time.

after arts and crafts had ended, you hugged your friends goodbye and began to descend into the woods, to rachel's cabin.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

once you arrived at rachel's cabin, you climbed the steps that led up to the door and knocked on it. you took a step back, waiting for a response, but it didn't come. you frowned and looked around on the porch. near the door, rachel had enough room for a chair and a small side table on the porch. on the side table lay a note, in rachel's handwriting,

"hi love! im out getting flowers right now, i've got this super cool idea i want to try! the door's unlocked, so just let yourself in :) i should be back soon ♡♡

xoxo, rachel

p.s. if you're not (name), then dont go in. sit on the chair. ill get to it when i get to it."

you smiled at the letter, you couldn't help but laugh at the way rachel's mood changes when not talking to you, even in writing. you left the note on the table, just in case somebody did need rachel and would have to wait on the chair.

you opened the door and walked into rachel's cabin, closing it behind you. you walked to her windows, opening the curtains and allowing the natural light to illuminate her room. rachel had told you about how much she'd preferred natural light or lamps, but never a main room light. she said they were too eye-straining and preferred the yellow-ish light that came from the sun and lamps.

after opening her windows, you looked around the room, eyes searching for something to do. you spotted one of rachel's sketchbooks on her desk. one you hadn't seen before.

'it must be new' you thought, walking over to her desk. you sat in her chair and gently placed your strawberry sculpture on the desk. you looked at the sketchbook, it was white and covered in heart stickers, you'd never seen this book before.

now, rachel always allowed you to look at her work. she'd always smile whenever she saw you lying in her bed, flipping through one of her many sketchbooks. she always said she didn't mind you going through and looking at her artwork, it made her happy.

so surely it was the same case for this book? but you'd never seen it before, and it did look pretty used. oh well, if you were a cat, curiosity definitely would've killed you in all 9 lives.

nothing could've prepared yourself for what you saw next. you expected to see the book full of prophecies, scenery, characters from rachel's favorite shows, doodles, not yourself.

you let out a small gasp when you opened the book, immediately met with a gorgeous drawing of you smiling (in like this pose ♡). the drawing was surrounded with small hearts and stars, and of course, rachel's signature near the bottom.

as you flipped through the pages you admired each drawing. rachel had seriously done such an amazing job on these drawings, you were amazed. as you continued to look through the book, you couldn't help but smile. with each turning page, your heart would flutter. the little person in your head was jumping around doing cartwheels saying 'ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh'.

you could've stared at the book for hours. around midway through however, your admiration had been interrupted.

you jumped up when you heard the door open, with a smiling rachel coming in behind her. as she came into the room, one of her arms holding dozens of flowers she said, "hey! sorry i wasn't here, but look at all the pretty flowers i-"

her sentence was brought to a halt when you turned in her chair, her sketchbook in hand. you had a soft smirk on your face, making sure she could see what you were holding.

she dropped the flowers that were once in her hand, her face immediately turning a bright shade of pink. the sides of her ears were turning red, the same way they always did when she was flustered. her lips were pressed into a thin line, unmoving. the poor girl seemed to be in too much of a shock to say anything.

but she didn't need to. slowly, you got up out of her chair, still holding the book in your hands, and began to walk towards her. you stopped right in front of her and squatted down to pick up a handful of flowers she had dropped. as you got back up, you met her eyes. they were full of panic. you simply smiled and handed her the book. she quickly grabbed it and shut it closed.

you let out a small laugh, rachel remained silent and flustered. you crouched down to pick up the rest of the flowers rachel had dropped.

"you know, im impressed you were able to draw all those poses with no references," you said, walking towards her desk and placing down the flowers. you then turned around and said, "you could've told me you needed a model."

rachel stayed frozen. you didn't think she'd be this embarrassed but you had to admit, it was funny. just then a great idea hit you. you began to walk over her bed and said, "i think i'd make a pretty good model right?" you asked, smirking. rachel's head followed your every move, but the rest of her body remained frozen in space, clutching the sketchbook tightly to her chest.

you sat down on rachel's bed and said, "i mean i've learnt from the best" you began to lay down on your side, resting your head on the pillow. you dramatically raised your hands to the side of your head like rose had in titanic as you said in an exaggerated wistful voice, "jack, draw me like one of your french girls".

this caused rachel to finally leave her state of shock, and instead slide her hand down her face, and covering her mouth. you put your hands down and laughed as she walked over to you with heavy steps. she kneeled down next to her bed so your faces would be the same level.

you smiled and moved your head to the edge of the bed, just inches away from hers.

"im sorry" rachel said, looking down at the sketchbook in her hands.

you furrowed your eyebrows, "for what?", you asked.

"for drawing you so much. i know it's weird" she said eyes focused on the book.

"hey look at me" you said, moving your face slightly closer to hers, "i love them. you're seriously so talented and im so glad i get to be the person who inspires your art. ok?"

rachel nodded slowly with a smile. you gave her a grin in return.

you placed a small kiss on her lips and rolled over on her bed, making room for her. "alright now cmere jack", you said.

she let out a small laugh and climbed into her bed. she wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her head in the crook of your neck, holding you close.

you began playing with her hair, wrapping her curls around your fingers. you both laid there in silence, just enjoying each other's company.

"hey (name)?" rachel said.

"yea?" you responded.

"i love you."

"love you too rach."

[i-never-forgot]

Sofiiiiieeeee😭😭😭YOU DREW MY BABY AND YOUR BABY SO CUTE AND AAHHHHAHHHHHH!!!

Rambling under the cut!🤭

Twig automatically going into deflection mode isn’t surprising, and neither is Eliana calling her out on it bc she has been guilty of doing the very same! She has the terrible habit of putting others before herself to a fault (including trying to keep them from feeling concern), but as soon as she sees Twig doing the same she’s just like “nope. you’re so young and you need support and please God don’t push people away like I have.”

You drew Eliana so in character. Her dialogue is *chef’s kiss*. I cannot. I am kicking my feet and squealing and—

Twig saying Eliana reminds her of her Dusknoir (Papanoir?) cracks me up, and Eliana being a little indignant of it makes it even better. She is extremely fond of him at this point since they’ve reconciled, but being told that she has assimilated some of his personality rankles her (in a humorous way, I promise). More like the “pfffft I totally don’t sound like that old man (affectionate)” when, in fact, she sounds like that old man.

TWIG ALMOST CALLING HIM “DAD”—DON’T THINK YOU SLIPPED THAT BY ME YOU SNEAKY LIL SKELETON YOU🥹

Also Eliana just totally pulling a mom with “are you sure you want to be with Ark. you deserve so much better. he tried to kill you, Twig” (to which Twig would be totally within her right to point out that “Dusk tried to kill you, too”🤭)

(I haven’t decided where I’m going to go as far as Eliana and her Darkrai are concerned, but you’d best believe that her eventually making friends with Ark would improve her understanding and sympathy…but I would always be open to plot suggestions tbh lol)

I was a little worried Ark wasn’t quite proportional bc I had to shrink him a little to fit into the frame, but I’m so glad he turned out. You draw him so…idk, elegant like smoke? I wanted to convey how soft and wispy he looks. (And I spent an embarrassing amount of time on that eye lol, I’m so glad I managed to capture the feathery look I was going for!)

Now that I’m getting the hang of it, Twig is so fun to draw! You have such a unique way of expressing her shape (kind of slender and long) that I adore, as well as the heart motifs! And her scale freckles!!! I love her so much and I’m relieved I did her justice!😭

You’d best believe Eliana’s sixth sense is going off! She adopted Grovyle as a Treecko and Lu as a Riolu (and would also snatch up Ribbons and Aimilios in a heartbeat) so there would be no stopping her from finding Twig the instant she lays eyes on her. (I also wonder if heroes/humans-turned-Pokemon would be able to instinctively tell. I do know that if my Rescue Team hero Ty ever showed up in Treasure Town Eliana would immediately notice. Food for thought?🤔) But yes that is accurate. Absolutely leaving Lu and Dusk and co. to adopt another eepy baby. They’re starting to get a little concerned about the amount of food they’ll have to start keeping in stock in their larder bc you know she’s not going to let them go without feeding them.😂

And oohhhhhh my God you don’t know how insecure I am about my handwriting, and you saying that made me float to cloud nine🥺I was worried about it being illegible bc I’ve always been told it’s just chicken scratch but tysm Sofie!

And yes, Eliana is very black and white when it comes to people, no middle ground. She distrusts Ark, figures him out, then becomes his biggest wingman. (It would absolutely drive her crazy to witness Ark and Twig dancing around each other’s feelings for so long, too, fyi—it would take a lot of restraint and reminders from Dusk to leave them alone to figure things out in their own time to keep her from smushing their faces together.) But the more that I think about it, the more that I realize you’re right—since he’s become well-adjusted and accepted himself she would find a lot of peace in being in his presence since he’s so chill all the time. He never had support for so long so him being able to prove that he’s trustworthy and earning Eliana’s undying loyalty would heal him in a lot of ways, I think. I sure know that she would just add him to her adoption list lol (just pray she never figures out that it was Cresselia that pushed him over the edge to start with👀just like it’s a good thing Twig’s aunt still isn’t around tbh lol)

Also I’m so glad you noticed that oh my god—she is terrified of what her Darkrai did in her world, to her and Lu and, indirectly, Grovyle, and even though he hasn’t turned up since Palkia collapsed his escape Dimensional Hole Eliana still has nightmares about him coming back to haunt her family. She would go into immediate defend-others-at-all-cost mode upon first meeting him, and like I said it would take a long time for her to even let her guard down at all. She has enough experience by now to be able to take on almost any fight she faces, but the lingering trauma from Dark Crater and the circumstances leading up to it—while she was still more vulnerable being unevolved and at a significant disadvantage, mind you—would come back like a storm. Ark would be wonderfully patient with her, I imagine, understanding that not all of his counterparts might be as willing to change🥺

You’re so very welcome🥰—I have some more ideas on doodles I want to sketch with your bunch and Fujii’s, so make sure to leave room on that board!👀

The fervency with which i am churning out these sketches is startling tbh

Eliana would clock this poor girl's trauma a mile off. She would proceed to want to bring down the wrath of heaven upon all those that wronged her. Twig would have to talk her into reigning it back in a little since she has the uncanny ability to befriend everyone who treated her poorly lol. otherwise she would mother the fool out of Twig! that poor girl needs all the love she can get!

Similar to Dusknoir, she would be extremely wary of Ark at first—even more so, in fact. She wouldnt get close nor would she trust him until much later, likely after Twig would explain how hes changed. She'd sympathize him in the long run.

anyways i hope you like it @sincerely-sofie🥺I want to draw your Dusknoir too but im eepy atm, so keep an eye out for that!

[derekgoffard]

🎁, 📦, 🚆, 🌠, ☁️, and 💘 for Colin?

!!!! AHHH THANK U FOR SO MANY FUN QUESTIONS OH MY GOSH!!! :']]] Haha I wrote these last night and I was just spinning around in my spinny chair like :D while writing these HHJWJABHS I HAVE ALOT OF FUN. I REALLY DO LOLOL

This gets long so I'll put the rest under the cut!

🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

Colin puts huge value on handmade gifts! It's definitely DEFINITELY the type of gift he'd appreciate the most!!.

Even if your not good at crafts or making gifts he'd still be over the moon about it haha! You could literally draw a smiley face on a walnut and glue straw legs and arms on it and he'd get teary eyed over it HAHA!! He would be like, REALLY HAPPY, to receive a gift from anyone at all LOL! but he does really really treasure handmade gifts most of all :'].

In terms of gift GIVING- COLIN IS PERHAPS THE KING OF IT LOLOLOL!!!

Colin will put alot of work into giving a gift to someone! All of his gifts are handmade and it can take him weeks or even months to make in advance depending on what he's making!!

One of the reasons why he's so good at it is because he will probably cyber stalk that person to find out what they like LMAO!! (or if he knows the person better he might go into their search history too see what kinda stuff they were looking at hhgheha...) On the rare occasion that he atcually knows someone on a personaly HEALTHY level he'd probably have a good understanding of what that person's interests are/what kind of aesthetics they're into!.

While Colin does have a preference for cute pastel aesthetics, he has a HUGE respect for others aesthetic preferences! If your someone who's into punk styles he'd probably customize a leather jacket for you, or if your not into a particular style of outfits at all he'd probably make you a custom keychain or a phone case!

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

( LOL IM SORRY THIS PIC IS SO WONKY I DREW THIS ON MY PHONE BKAGH )

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

GAHA OHH THE GOOD OLD TROLLEY PROBLEM EHHBW.... If you were to ask him what his anwser would be to the trolley problem he'd probably ask you if there's anyway to just save them all and if you said no he'd just be " ohh man that sucks (๑´•.̫ • `๑)....kill that one guy then! (✿^‿^)"

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

He'd probably wish for something REALLY PATHETICALLY SAD LOLLLLLLLL.... something like ' I wish no one could ever dislike me ' or ' I wish I had the charisma and confidence to talk to anyone no matter the situation '. REAL FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS COLIN 🙄🙄🙄🙄 WHAT ABOUT WORLD HUNGER BOY 😭😭😭😭😭

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

Colin is a deeply, grossly, mushy romantic person 😭😭😭😭😭 he would LOVE pda and would want to kiss and hug everywhere no matter the place. Like I imagine he'd like to play dumb little... romantic games with his partner like, when their driving every time they stop at a red light or a stop sign they kiss or something like that GHRDH.

I'm not sure if this counts as soft or creepy but he would absolutely 100% know every like and dislike his partner would have, he'd do..questionable things too like: study their handwriting/typing patterns so he can copy it perfectly, memorize their daily schedules, He might even make a 'cosplay' of them if he gets really down bad GAHA. To him he's only trying to become closer to them but to like. literally anyone else I think creepy LOLLL.

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

OOOHH!!!! This is such a cute question oh my gosh!! 🥺 Gaha!

Colin MOSTLY doesn't believe in love at first sight!! Surprisingly!!! His disbelief comes more out of insecurity then rational though, he'd be scared that if love at first sight WAS real and it DID happen to him, he wouldn't live up to that person's expectations ( aka his appearance is alot prettier then his personality LOL ). He also just doesn't think that could ever happen to him in the first place and the thought of other people finding love at first sight makes him feel kinda jealous so he avoids thinking about it GAHA!! ( Slightly related but if Colin were to get into a scenario where he did end up kidnapping Mc and they ended up in a romantic relationship ( either that be through like. STOCKHOLM SYNDROME OR NOT LLHGGG ) he would claim that "it was love at first sight! ♡" even though that really just means he decided Mc would be an easy kidnap target when he seen them LOL).

The traits that he looks for in a partner are all kinda basic tbh! If not a little sad LOL. He's never had anyone who could be emotionally present for him before so he has alot of trouble atcually coping and dealing with the strong emotions he feels, so he'd want someone who's patient and non judgmental!.

However the biggest thing he would want would be to feel that the person atcually likes him back LOL😭, If he gets delusional enough he can 'convince' himself that the person likes him back ( this works for any scenario, like if he has Mc kidnapped and he ends up really liking them even though Mc CLEARLY DOES NOT LIKE HIM- he'll get real delusional about how they love him back- even if deep down he knows they don't. Also if HE'S the one kidnapped- he'll develop a stockholm syndrome attachment to his captor very quickly hhhhhhhhhh).

Besides that he honestly doesn't seek out specific traits! He's really really open to LIKE. ANYONE WHO WILL LIKE HIM BACK LOL!!!

[read-watch-listen-17]

SPOILERS - Tower of Dawn (Throne of Glass book 6)

.

.

.

Okay this might be a long one.

The world is suffering because she got BORED?! And the Kings were just out destroying worlds while trying to find her. Wow. Random question, but does Maeve actually have any descendants? 🤔🤔🤔

They almost succeeded in saving themselves. Yay for Kadara getting help! Also I hope Falkan survives because the way he was talking to Nesryn about his niece, I think his niece is Lysandra. Which would be cool because it sounds like she’ll have a title. One that even the Lords of Terrasen couldn’t deny her.

Did Maeve have Fae warriors plant all of these books and clues to help her build defenses for when the Valg came back looking for her? Or were there Fae who figured out who she was and hid the information so future generations would figure it out and defeat her?

I’m still so torn about my feelings for Chaol. Like I’m glad he’s all better now, but going through his memories and thoughts like that just reminded me of how much of a stubborn, clueless, can’t make a damn decision to save his life, asshat he is. But then he and Yrene are so adorable ❤️ i just can’t fully hate him. It’s like a god damn yo-yo or rollercoaster. Anyway, he’s all better and set to raise an army to save Dorian so lets see how that unfolds shall we?

I knew it! I knew Yrene magic was going to be able to defeat the Valg. Yes! Damn parasites you’re going down once and for all!

Am I alone in finding it weird that Hasar seemed to go out of her way to give Chaol GOOD NEWS about Aelin winning a battle against Maeve? Even though we all know it came at great cost. That she had gathered Galan and his armada along with the Silent Assassins. That she herself had received the same request and promise of a better world. It almost seemed like she was ready to believe him, but not quite.

Of course it was Duva! The least suspect. But WHY did Chaol's spine have to break again? After all that work 😭😭 Oh well, as long as he’s not being his woe is me self pitying self again we’re good.

Yrene proved twice that she can destroy the Valg inside the hosts which is great if the can get them to hold still long enough for the healers to work on them. In doing so she earns a favor with the Khagan and of course we all know what she’s going to ask for. His army to go with Chaol and fight with Aelin.

Nesryn family arrived and are safe, yay! 🥳 She picked Salkhi as her ruk! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

I’m gonna be honest I didn’t think the Khagan was going to name his Heir ever, but I’m glad he named Sartaq, and I hope he ends the whole kill your siblings thing, and they can’t have kids thing. But when she went to bow and he immediately stoped her and said ‘never from you.’ 😍🥰😍🥰😍🥰😍🥰😍🥰😍💞💞💞💞💞💞

Chaol and Yrene GOT MARRIED!!!! I guess when your lives are already tied together and you love each other it’s really the only logical thing to do. 🤷‍♀️

OH MY GOD Chaol finally looks at the note Yrene has been carrying around. I was holding my breath hoping he would recognize the handwriting and HE DID! I’m so proud. Out of all her planning and scheming she did not count on this one act of kindness to cause such a ripple. When she finds out, when Yrene finally finds out, because Chaol didn’t tell her anything except she might want to hold onto it for a while as someone else might want to see it, it’s going to be fantastic.

I know this is already super long, but I just have to say I was super reluctant to read this book because it felt like taking a step backward in the story, but I feel like it’s on the same level as The Assassins Blade. Where I’m glad I read it because I’ll understand more in the next book. Also I went into it thinking it was going to be all about Chaol, but it wasn’t. Yes he was a big part of it, but there was also Nesryn, and Yrene who both had their own stories. I can’t wait for them to meet up with Aedion and Lysandra/Aelin. That’s going to be interesting.

Alright I’m off to read Kingdom of Ash. Though I don’t know if my heart is ready.

[scummy-writes]

[CHAPTER 21]

I am not ready for this. I surprisingly dont really know anything about the dramatic end. I think i know One scene but i can't remember anything else.

This starts off right after mc finds gilbert in his room, coughing so badly, and Walter reluctant to tell her what is wrong with him. It cuts off after he said gilbert originally had a month to live before he went to Rhodolite.

Here we ggggooooooooo

-> continues to that night, mc is sitting by his bed and is using a cloth to blot sweat away. Idk if medicine was explained in romantic (effects), but

Interesting. I wonder if a strong painkiller is all they can manage, or all Gilbert is willing to take at the moment? Surely he's just being a stubborn idiot and they've developed more meds if surgery is an option.

-> "the only sound he made [in his sleep] was the occasional torturous, gasping breath"

-> gilbert has 'loose, scribbly" handwriting

-> sobs. Okay i forgot in dramatic end they cover he wrote the obsidian book(s) that she was reading. He was looking (or working?) at that when the coughing fit hit.

I wonder. It sounds like shes been sleeping in her room at night, and that may be because Gilbert's only time to succumb to the pain of his condition is when hes alone at night (otherwise hes spending all yhe time possible during the day/noon/early night to see her), and maybe when he can take meds.

He was likely working on the novel then too, trying to finish it so she could enjoy it... he prob wanted to see her face with it too, or have it give her more hope...........a

(I just want to remember this scene. Cute. Choice option for trying to help with the pain. She asks if it helps and he says no LMAO tells her to go back to her room)

-> seems like shes going to pretend she doesnt know about how badly sick he is, and how hes dying soon. Comes up with an excuse ("i just dont feel much like sleeping tonight") and gilbert looks relieved (in the eye).

Mc also notes that she understands that of he killed her, his heart would never be human again

So i think she understands subconsciously that she loves him and vice versa, but moreso I think she was thinking that no one else but her would try so hard to get him to become human again, due to his attachment with her.

-> also confirmed they havent slept together since Rhodolite. Shes trying to sleep with him tonight.

-> says if she was going to lie, she should have tried harder (gil), gilbert can tell shes lying but shes persisting.

-> petting was the +4/+4 option

-> author thing secret

GSobs

-> he chastises a little, but she doesnt fight back or anything, and he calls her out on not having a 'spark'.

Sobs

-> "i chose to settle things by using violence to control and dominate" [not verbatim, section ended too fast]

-> has a large obsidian paperweight on his desk

-> writers block for months.

-> theres a limit to what he knows in terms of akatsuki's stories about her. Was still having writers block when she became belle. He heard about that and went to Rhodolite for inspo and to meet her.

Sob

-> hes chosing between two endings: seeing if she can resolve the rift without violence, or if she becomes a beast like him

-> "he dragged me into this mess because he was curious" very simplified, mc 😭

-> does an obviously fake yawn and stretches.

-> mc knows he wont say any promises because he hates lying

-> mc moves to go back to her room but then realizes he didnt take his eyepatch off qhen he laid down. Gilbert says he doesnt take it off unless he has good reason, and sleeps with it on. (Insane)

Says its a secret. "Youre the one person I'll never tell"

-> she makes sure he falls asleep okay and then steps outside of his room and immediately sobs.

Roderic and walter help her back to her room 🥺

DRAMATIC END - GILBERT ROUTE SPOILERS POST

Like the other notes (here), I am continuing my thoughts/notes on Gilbert's route. This post will focus on the dramatic end + premiums. His povs will be a separate post.

I'll be reblogging this post each chapter or so with personal thoughts and general screaming under a cut. I'll be having it in a format with the chapter numbered, and then a cut directly after where I'll be yelling. I already know some major spoilers with gilberts route, so if you have not finished his route yet, be wary.

I'll be using the tags 'Scum Simps' and 'scum plays gil route' for those of you who want to filter it out. Thank u!

[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

my request is trevor getting the love he deserves please and thank you 😭

I have the feeling I know who sent this anon in…

He did not know who sends the letters. Every one in a while, Trevor found a letter in in mail box. His name was written on the letter, surrounded by little hearts. The handwriting was unknown to him. Every single letter ended with “Your love”, but who was his love? There was only one thing he knew, and that was - he was madly in love with the woman behind the letters.

You fell in love with the trash man a long time ago. You were walking back home to your crappy home in Los Santos when a few men started following you. You ran, and ran, and when you ran past a corner, you ran right into Trevor.

“Please.”, you whimpered at the stranger, which didn’t seem too much more trustworthy, but he was your only chance to get away. “Someone’s following me. Please help me.”

Trevor groaned and rubbed his head before helping you stand up. By this time, the men had walked around the corner too, and Trevor instantly noticed they were trouble. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side.

“What a coincidence we ran into each other here! Come on sweetheart, lets grab a drink!”, he said, leading you away from the men and to his car. The men shook their heads, walking into another direction. 

Trevor and you walked to his car before you stopped and moved out of his grip. “Thank you.”, you said, and Trevor looked down to you.

“You want me to drive you home?”

“If you promise me to not kill me and throw me into the nearest river?”

“Promise.”

Trevor and you laughed, and you got into his car. He drove you to your home, without killing you, a surprise on this very evening in Los Santos.

“Thank you.”

“For such a beautiful lady? Absolutely not a problem.”, Trevor tipped his imaginary hat before driving off.

In your home, you locked all doors and started to look this man up. Hardly any information about him apart from his Lifeinvader profile and his address. From this very moment, you started to write letters. At first you only thanked him for being his beautiful weird self, but then they turned more and more into love letters. You had fallen in love with the man who saved you, but you were too afraid to face him again in broad daylight.

Finally.

You took all your heart and drove out to Sandy Shores. You stood in front of the filthy trailer, trying to find the courage to knock on the door, with a final letter in your hands.

Finally.

You walked up the few steps, knocking on it. A sleepy Trevor in a dirty shirt and boxershorts opened, clearly confused by who the fuck you were. The two of you looked at each other in silence for a few seconds before you pushed the letter into his hands.

“I thought I’d deliver the last one myself.”, and you turned around, running down the stairs. It took a few seconds for Trevor to realize what was going on. Trevor opened the letter, reading the few lines of hearts and kitsch.

Dear Trevor,

All these moons ago, you saved me from being robbed, stabbed, or God knows what else. I never got to properly thank you, which I now want to do. And I want to repay you for your troubles.

Wanna go on a date with me? Send me a text if you want to, my number is (555) 5555-555.

Your love.

And a few moments later, you got a text by an unknown number.

I’d love to go on a date with you, sugar. Trevor.