#THE BACKGROUND IS LITERALLY ETHEREAL

[ennaku-sirri-da]

[ ID: Fanart of the ship of Dr.Habit and Jimothan Botch from Smile For Me the game. Its done in the game style. We see a front view of Habit and Jimothan sitting in a red truck, driving against a bright, sunny background. The truck has fuzzy dice hanging in front.

The lyrics to New York Nagaram are written in cursive around them, in a light orange text, the song is playing from the truck:

New york nagaram

Urangum neram

Thanimai adarndhadhu

Paniyum padarndhadhu

Kappal irangiye

Kaatrum karaiyil nadandhadhu

Habit smiles, holding a hand up inquisitively and asks Jimothan "Hey Jimothan, wuts the meanin of diz preti song??" with hearts in his chat bubble.

Jimothan grins, winking back and laughs " oh this? HA HA!!!

It's just some love song about longing between lovers..

Two lovers who can't be together..." end ID]

Habitspeak translation: Hey Jimothan, what's the meaning of this pretty song?

Final request for @everyday-is-brighter-with-you . Thanks again, I love drawing S4M characters!

[ethereal-feline]

Progress on Everbright: when you vibe with your new bestie so much it accidentally breaks a law or two

Leo and Ginger apparently can't just hang out because in all iterations they get into trouble 5 minutes after meeting each other and that's why the overarching plot happens 😂

Oh and I finally figured out what to do with my Big Blue Boi Azuron

[tonycries]

The Call - G.S.

Synopsis. After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, background Zenin Naoya x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, Naoya gets cucked, Oggy & The Cockroaches cameo, NSFW, making out, cunnilingus, fingering, doggy, missionary, manhandling kinda, Satoru is taller, mentions of alcohol, pet names (doll, babe), oral sex (male + female receiving), Satoru is down BAD, cheating, I bully Naoya, car sex, overstimulation (male + female), swearing (I’m a pottymouth, sorry), exhibitionism if you squint.

Word count. 6.7k (being stuck on a farm really does that to ya)

A/N. BONJOUR BABYGIRLS, FIRST POST KINDA NERVOUS?? Based on The Call by Backstreet Boys. Art by @_3aem on X.

If you reblog, I’ll literally kiss you on the mouth (with your consent). <3

Cross-posted on AO3

“Listen, baby, I’m sorry.”

He’ll see the marks.

“Jus’ wanna tell ya don’t worry. I will be late, don’t stay up and wait for me.”

He’ll know. 

Good.

Long fingers trail higher and higher up your thigh. 

Meeting his fiery cerulean gaze, the grip on your phone weakens - only one thought running through your mind right now. 

Satoru won’t let you get out of this alive.

Shit. How the hell did you even get here?

Hitting the club on a random Thursday with your friends means you’d geared up for a dead dance floor and some old creeps you’d have to fight off. 

Hey, it wasn’t perfect - but at least it would get your mind off of That Bag of Dicks. And the fact that it was your two-year anniversary with him today. AND the fight that led you to furiously text your groupchat demanding a night out. 

But, whatever, semantics. 

What you certainly did not expect was the crowd to be dancing in an uproar, and one white-haired man to be in the middle of it all. The creeps were still there - as always - but what did it matter when his electric eyes caught yours across the dance floor. Mouth curving up in a teasing grin as he kept gaze locked with yours.

Beautiful.

Wait. Ugh. You really needed to get a hold of yourself. 

Ripping your eyes away from this stranger’s, you check your phone - somewhat out of habit. 

0 new notifications. 

Well. Fuck it, you thought.

Downing your friend’s double shot, you mentally made a note to buy them a drink next time as you plunged into the dense crowd. 

Fuck Naoya. Fuck his mind games. Fuck his stuffy, exclusive family dinners.

…

And that uglyass e-boy hairstyle.

Maybe it was the Smirnoff, or maybe it was the music thrumming through your veins - all you knew was that the dancing bodies around you were magnetic, and you hadn’t felt this good in a long time. 

Yeah, this is exactly what you needed right now.

You’re moving your hips to the beat in all the ways your boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate. Running your hands over the top that stuck to you like a second skin. 

And that was when it happened. 

A hand grasps yours in midair. 

Ew, what the fuck. You’d barely formed that thought before you’re suddenly spun so that your back is pressed against the front of…a wall? A wall wearing such alluring cologne. 

No wait, that’s a person. Holy shit they must be some sort of gym rat.

“Hey, wanna dance on that table?”

You turn your head to snap at whoever this stranger speaking to you from behind is, partially impressed by his sheer audacity. 

But whatever curse or shout at the tip of your tongue died down when you saw those eyes from before peering down at you. Except, now that you were closer - almost intimidatingly so - you could truly appreciate what a breathtaking man he was. 

Ethereal white hair framing those incredibly blue eyes. And a small dimple at the corner of a grin, which moves as he cocks his head and leans down to repeat, “Wanna dance on that table?”

Dammit, you might have been ogling him for too long. 

The table in question was one fringing the dance floor, slightly battered from too much experience with drunk dancing. Yet, it didn’t seem like it would break down anytime soon - and your phone was tragically empty of any concerned calls from your boyfriend so…what’s the worst that could happen? 

“...Sure?” You answer, eyes still unmoving from his face. 

At most you’d just dance till you forget today.

And before you knew it, both of his hands rested softly on your hips as he carefully steered you through the crowd from behind. 

Upon reaching it, his long legs jump onto the table and he holds a hand out towards you - boyish mirth evident on his features and the surrounding crowd cheering in drunken camaraderie. Face slightly burning at the spectacle, you slide your hand once more into his grasp.

It should be illegal to be this good-looking and the life of the party.

This stranger had you belting out the lyrics of songs with almost-reckless abandon, hands ghosting your body as you two moved in sync. An unknown magnetism drawing you to each other like a moth to flame. 

You were most definitely the flame, you thought, with the way his intense stare left your skin burning. You felt your heartbeat banging against your ribcage in symphony with the strobe lights above.

He was towering in front of you now. An arm wrapping around your waist, and the other gently pushing away the hair from your face. Close.

“I’m Gojo Satoru. You can jus’ call me Satoru, doll.”

A large hand caressing your cheek now. 

“I’m-”

That was when you felt it. The incessant vibration in your skirt pocket that most definitely wasn’t the pounding club music - your phone. And you knew who it was. 

Shit, you lost track of everything. 

“...taken.”

The smile on Gojo’s face falters for the first time as he makes a noise of confusion.

“I’m taken. Sorry. See you around.”

And with that, you untangle yourself from his arms and make your way back onto the ground, weaving through the crowd that had formed around the table due to your guys’ little show. 

What the hell were you even thinking? Just because you were mad at your boyfriend doesn’t mean you don’t have one.

You look back and catch a glimpse of Gojo’s slight pout. 

Cute. 

But, your buzzing phone served as a reminder - now wasn’t the time to forget yourself. You came here to dance your worries off, not cheat on your damn boyfriend! Maybe you really should check out that couples therapist your aunt recommended…couldn’t be that expensive, could it?

A glance at your phone shows Naoya’s string of texts. A couple cuss words, some accusations thrown here and there - none of them true, yet you felt guilty as you made your way to the bar. 

He still didn’t call, but it’s a start, right?

Upon grabbing a seat at the counter, your friends excitedly rush to hear the tea. 

“Oh my gosh, WHO was that hottie you were up there on the table with earlier?”, they gasp and crowd around you eagerly. 

“Some guy named Gojo, but we just-”

One of your friends interrupts your explanation by tittering, “You know I always told you to leave that asswipe, Naoya. Glad you finally decided to stand up, girl.” 

The rest of your group make noises of agreement as you sputter your excuses, “What- NO. I told him I was taken. Either way, I know Naoya’s a dick but I’d never cheat on him!” 

You weren’t like that. I mean, he drives you mad but every couple has their moments, right?

“Well, are you sure you told him you’re taken?”

Your friend’s odd question makes you snap out of your little overthinking tirade, enough to turn to what the group was now looking at - or more like who.

Gojo was unmissable. 

A cloud-like beauty with locks of white, standing a full head above everyone else. But what jarred you the most was the look in his eyes as they locked upon you, like a man dying of thirst spotting an oasis on his last breath.

Well, shit.

“Not really in the mood to watch you two eye-fuck each other sooo we’ll prolly go dance. We’ll be nearby keeping an eye, though, so remember the signals, yeah?” you hear from your left.

You nod mutely as your friends leave you for a repeat of Heads Will Roll.

“We meet again, Ms. Taken.” 

You rip your gaze away from your friends on the dance floor to look up at Gojo. His stupid little joke startles a small laugh out of you. 

“Didn’t think you were one for dad jokes, Gojo.” you muse. 

“Please, call me Satoru.” he grins as he leans over the counter to order you both a shot of Baileys. “You’re an incredible dancer you know.”  

“Says the life of the party?” you laugh, turning in your seat to better face your interesting new friend. 

He conducts an exaggerated bow, bragging “What can I say? I’m quite great at everything.” 

Ah, the dramatic type.

“Now that just makes you sound sleazy, Satoru.” you tease, gratefully taking the shot from the bartender.

Despite the dim lighting of the club, you could make out the slight darkening of Satoru’s cheeks. But, before you could ponder that any further, he clinks his shot glass against yours and downs the liquor. 

Once you follow, he leans in closer to drawl “As sleazy as that boyfriend of yours?”. 

Goosebumps rise on your shoulders and you have to hold back a shudder - whether from Satoru’s deep voice in your ear or because of what he just said, you don’t question.

Raising an eyebrow, “What would you know about my boyfriend?”

You watch as Satoru’s eyebrows furrow slightly, a more serious expression taking over his face. “Oh, doll. You do know that your lil’ boyfriend is very popular with the ladies here, right?”

What the fuck? Okay, to be touchy is one thing but outright lying about your boyfriend is another.

You stare at Satoru blankly, unimpressed. Droning monotonously, “Ah, so you’re one of those guys that lie to pick up a girl, huh?” You see his eyes widen by the smallest fraction - clearly not expecting this kind of response. Then he throws his head back and laughs. The nerve.

Between cackles, “I’m not. But your boyfriend sure is.” 

And as you open your mouth to retort he plows on, “Nao-something, right? That two-tone-haired gremlin? Bumped into him last time I was here, he showed us a couple pictures of you, bragging about having a hottie waiting for him at home. It was almost heartfelt.” 

Satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and fumbles with it before turning the screen to face you. “That was right before he started making out with some other chick, of course.”

And making out with some other chick he was. 

The picture was blurry - seemingly zoomed into the background of a group selfie - but it was undeniably your Naoya, only with the added detail of his tongue down some other girl’s throat.

This FUCKER. 

“...when was this?”, the words sounded foreign to your ears, as if spoken by someone else. But you knew from the way Satoru assessed you with slight concern that it was you who asked this.

“...last week.” 

Last week? Last week was when your boyfriend(?) was out of town for some alleged family dinner at the Zenin Estate. And the week before that as well. At this point, was any of it real?

“Another dinner, babe? Old man Zenin sure is stepping up with the family bonding.” you chuckle, as Naoya fixes his hair in the mirror.

“Yeah. Won’t be home tonight.”

“Staying at the Estate again? Ugh, well, stay safe. Love you!” you chirp as he flits out the door. Disappointed but, whatever, time to binge-watch those shitty rom-coms he complains about.

The longer you sat on that too-high seat at the bar counter, the longer things began lining up. His short fuse, the incessant texts, and most of all - his paranoia that you were cheating on him with any and every male in the vicinity. It was actually one of the things you’d blown up over before you left for the night.

“What? Naoya, babe, he’s literally my friend’s boyfriend. Why would I ever-”

“Oh yeah? Well I couldn’t tell cuz you’re such a fuckin’ slut. Y’know, going on dates behind my back and all.”

“It was a GROUP HANGOUT, I haven’t seen these people in ages. What the fuck is up with you these days- I literally love you and only you. Look - can’t we just celebrate our anniversary like usual, c’mon…”

“Just fuck off.”

Tears well up in your eyes. How could he do this to you? After two entire years? 

You felt so stupid. Your thoughts were running a million miles a minute, and it stopped on one - you were going to get revenge. 

Abruptly getting down from your seat, you turn without remembering to say so much as a goodbye to Satoru. Fuming, and mind filled only with thoughts of how you’d burn Naoya’s ugly, overpriced shirts. Or maybe you could even send his unflattering nudes to the Zenin family groupchat - that would give those uptight fossils a real kick.

Your thoughts of enacting revenge are halted only when a large hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from heading for the club exit. Satoru’s ramblings hit you before you’d even turned to look at him.

“Look- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I thought you two had an open relationship or something. Which - looking back - how the fuck would a douche canoe like him have ever convinced you to have an open rela-”

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your friends worriedly making their way towards the two of you. 

You take a quick glance up at Satoru who was still in the middle of mumbling, “-shocked an e-boy bastard like him even pulled you in the first place.”

Fuck it.

Your body moved before your mind. You quickly shot your friends a thumbs up and tight-lipped smile that made them stop in their tracks, still slightly unsure. And with that, you grabbed Satoru and began dragging him to the exit, effectively cutting off his long-winded apology and/ or Naoya diss track.

Eyes firmly facing forward, you miss the mixture of delighted and scandalized expressions on your friends’ faces. The only thing distantly registering in your mind being the cold touch of Satoru’s wrist.

It was quiet outside. Your ears were ringing a bit from the chaos of the club, so you bask slightly in the serenity before Satoru speaks up from beside you, “So…changed your mind, Ms. Taken?”

Oh, right. You took a prize with you - and he didn’t even know your name, yet.

“Ah! Sorry- That was just on impulse, I didn’t mean-”, now it was your turn to ramble apologies for your hasty reaction. Just because you wanted to get back at your boyfriend doesn’t mean you should involve someone else in it!

After apologizing and giving him your name, you look up to see the twinkle in Satoru’s eyes. He seemed…amused?

“I did take you for a bit of a thrill-seeker after the table incident, but damn…”, he chuckles. “Well, now that we’re acquainted with each other, why don’t we give that lil’ boyfriend of yours something to really be mad about?” 

His words cause a shiver to run down your spine. What? 

He leans in close - so very close - and bats his long lashes, “That is what you dragged me out here for, right?”

Well, maybe you are sort-of the adventurous type. And maybe this is what your freshly heartbroken brain had concocted as revenge for your boyfriend’s betrayal - but wasn’t this too reckless, even for you? With what dignity you have left, you muster, “Once again, I’m so sorry for all of this. Let’s both pretend this never happened, you can head back and I’ll head…home.” 

“Where my cheating scumbag boyfriend is” is the part that goes unsaid. 

Satoru stays unmoving from his place in your personal space, defiantly staring right into your eyes, “You didn’t answer my question, doll.” he hums. 

It might have been the alcohol - or the way his lip curled oh-so-perfectly into a teasing smile - but you find yourself sighing out in defeat. “Fine. Yeah. That is what I brought you out here for but mind you it was impulse and-”

He has the audacity to look absolutely exhilarated at your response, cutting you off to muse “That’s perfect then, isn’t it? You get revenge on that cheating dumbass, and I get to fuck an absolute goddess.” 

At your stunned silence, he quirks an eyebrow and continues, “Come on, you really think I didn’t see the way you were eyeing me up before getting on the dance floor?”

“Well, you’re kinda hard to miss.” you defend, face warming. ‘And either way, I’m still in a relationship, we could even try couples therapy…and besides - I don’t even know you.“ 

Satoru’s grin only seems to grow at each word that spills out of your mouth, he was getting impossibly closer to you. Surprisingly, you didn’t mind it as much as you think you would.

“Why don’t you?” he murmurs, eyes unwavering from your face.

“Huh?”

“Why don’t you get to know me?”

You frown at the question, heart still stinging from the revelation earlier about your boyfriend. “Last time I ‘got to know’ someone it ended up with him cheating on me after two whole years.” you mutter darkly.

The amusement drains from Satoru’s face and his eyebrows furrow as he rasps out “That prick doesn’t deserve you.” His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, he was close enough now that you could slightly smell the liquor from earlier mixed with his expensive cologne. 

It was so intoxicating.

Against the rational part of your brain, you feel yourself leaning into his presence. You challenge, “And you do?”

“Absolutely not.”, he breathes out. 

And - fuck - then you’re kissing him. Because how could you not? Your lips are drawn to Satoru’s own like two halves of a soul that have connected after eons. Unbearable to part. He breathes you in like you were the only thing tethering him to this world. 

A small groan wrecks the back of his throat.

Shit, maybe it was the other way around. 

Your mouth parts, letting his tongue slide in. Satoru tasted sweet - like Baileys and every fantasy of a suave Prince Charming ever. You think that maybe you could get drunk off of his lips alone. You distinctly register the strong arm around your waist pulling you to him, sliding your hand up his chest and into those angelic locks. 

His mouth curls into a smile against yours. “Having fun, doll?” he chuckles, each word punctuated by small pecks to your lips. He pulls back ever-so-slightly to bite and tease the skin on your neck. 

Against your will, a quiet whine rips from your throat. Satoru was everywhere. But it wasn’t enough. You tug at his silky hair.

He seemed to get the memo. Connecting his forehead with yours, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body before resting it on your ass, squeezing it lightly. “C’mon, use your words.”, he sounds just as breathless as you feel.

Raising your neck a little higher, lips ghosting over his, you whisper, “Satoru…I want to fuck you.”

He huffs out a laugh before murmuring lowly in your ear - words meant for you and only you - “No, doll. I want you to ruin me.” 

Your thighs press together, he was going to be the death of you. Satoru catches the small movement and hums thoughtfully, “I got a lil’ place nearby. Wanna go?”

This was stupid. This was reckless. And you were going to do it.

Following your impatient nod, the both of you hurriedly walk the short distance to where Satoru’s car was parked. You share your location with your girls - just in case - before Satoru pushes you against the backseat door of his jet black Hellcat.

Lips connecting once more, he groans out, “Need you here right now.” sounding at his wits end, “Please, doll.”

Before you know it, the door is opened and slammed shut, and you’re sinking into the plush leather seat. Satoru is hovering over you now, dim street light illuminating the lust on his features. You looked into his darkened eyes, now hinging on a black that matched his car. The air was still. Waiting.

Then broken by the cacophony of the theme song to Oggy & The Cockroaches. 

Ah, how classy. 

Mentally cursing yourself for how out-of-place that joke ringtone was, you pull out your phone as Satoru backs up a bit. Your heart stops at the caller ID - “Naoya <3” - anger and guilt filling you.

“Answer it.”, you hear from above you. Satoru, who had looked at your phone screen while you froze, was now smirking devilishly. He kisses your forehead reassuringly, repeating “Answer it.”

Well…you’ve already come this far…

“Hello?” you stammer out, answering the call. 

Your heart clenches as you hear Naoya’s voice demanding to know where you are right now. But his words go in one ear and out the other as you pay more attention to where Satoru held you, letting him do as he pleases while he takes the liberty to trail his hands where your skirt was hiking up. You could feel his thumb rubbing circles into your thighs. Tease. 

“Hellooo, can you hear me? Haven’t you had enough of fucking feeling sorry for yourself??” Naoya’s grating voice snapped you out of your reverie. 

Right, you still had to deal with that.

“Listen, baby, I’m sorry.”

Satoru’s hot breaths were fanning your hair now. His fingers continue their dance on your thigh. Feathery touch too light for any sort of friction, but just enough to set your skin ablaze. 

“Jus’ wanna tell ya don’t worry. I will be late, don’t stay up and wait for me.”

He bends down to kiss the crook of your neck and you feel his smile against your skin. Devilish and dangerous. Angling your head slightly, a jolt of electricity goes through your body as you meet his intense gaze - one that makes you feel vulnerable and exposed, despite being fully clothed. 

The grip on your phone weakens - only one thought running through your mind right now. 

Satoru won’t let you get out of this alive.

Your heated thoughts are once again interrupted by Naoya’s nagging complaints. Usually, you would have simpered on the line, but right now consoling your boyfriend was the last thing on your mind. 

“Say again? You’re dropping out, my battery is low…Jus’ so ya know, we’re going to a place nearby.”

Naoya’s shrieks of profanity are loud enough for Satoru to hear as well. He chokes on a laugh, quickly muffling it in the valley of your chest. 

You have to hold back a yelp as his soft hairs tickle your nose. Evidently bored of all your conversation, Satoru’s hand finally slips past your skirt and begins playing with the hem of your lacy panty.

Shit.

“Gotta go-”

And with that, you quickly hang up the phone and let it fall to god-knows-where. Satoru immediately catches your lips again, “Thank fuck, e-boy bastard was about to make me lose my boner.”, he mumbles against them. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck and all the way down to your chest. “Keeping me your dirty lil’ secret, huh?”

A mischievous grin makes its way to your face as you hum, “For now. Revenge cheating isn’t as fun when they already know about it.” 

You wrap your legs around Satoru’s waist to pull him closer, feeling the outline of his cock. He grinds against you, letting out low, strangled groans at the touch of your clothed core. Both of you knew it - he wanted you so bad. 

Satoru’s fingers were now rubbing against your folds through your panty, causing you to moan at the friction. He playfully nipped at your collarbone before looking at you with eyes that look like he wanted to eat you alive. 

“Let me taste you.” he breathes out. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Urgently, Satoru wasted no time in helping you sit up against the door, falling onto his knees to come face-to-face with your dripping pussy. He licks a long stripe, hands tightly gripping your ass to hold you in place. 

Where Satoru was suave when kissing you, he was absolutely filthy when making out with your cunt. “Mm- Tastes s’good, doll.” he moans against your wet lips. You couldn’t hold back your groans of pleasure, his mouth making your head spin. 

Finally, his hands on your ass swiftly remove your flimsy panties - completely soaked with slick and spit. You reach out to take a hold of them, but Satoru redirects your hands onto his hair. “Use me.” he grins. Walls fluttering at how fucked out he sounds already, you almost miss the way he pockets your wet panties.

He dives back into making out with your pussy, Tongue pushing its way through your folds and tasting every inch of you with purpose. His nose keeps rubbing against your clit, and mewls rip from your throat to harmonize with the lewd squelching sounds from below. 

Satoru pulls back to admire his work, satisfied at the disappointed gasp coming from you. “Fuck- look at you. So pretty and dripping f’me. Gonna make a mess of my seats, doll?” he rasps out. 

“Shut up.” you whine embarrassed, pushing Satoru’s head to where you need him the most. He relishes in the rough treatment, rolling his tongue harshly over and over against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit! Satoru!” you yelp in ecstasy as you buck your hips into his face. More.

Satoru now uses two fingers to spread your cunt even more, admiring. 

He bullies a long finger into your wet pussy. His ice-cold ring rubbing the base of your folds in stark contrast with the hot vibrations of his moans on your clit. It was all too much. You squeeze around his head - which only seems to spur Satoru on more as he increases his pace. 

A second finger slides in, curling in unison to search for that spot inside you which Satoru knew would have your sweet moans singing louder. 

Ah, there.

“S’good Satoru. Fuck. Right there, don’ stop.”, you whine as Satoru fervently continues his attack on your cunt. 

You call out his name over and over again. Satoru was everywhere. Everything. And he was the only thing on your mind as you cum with a strangled gasp of his name; iron-tight grip on his hair helping you ride it out on his pretty face. 

While you descend from the heaven Satoru sent you to, he continues giving kittenish pecks to your pulsing cunt. Experimental licks making your thighs squeeze more around his face. He looked absolutely fucked out, eyes hooded and face flushed a delicate pink.

As the heartbeat ringing in your ears subside, you register that goddamn Oggy & The Cockroaches ringtone in the distance again.

Half-consciously reaching a hand out to feel it for it, you already know who it is before you take a look at the phone screen. 

Naoya <3

The exasperation must show on your face, because Satoru reaches out a toned arm and silences your phone before setting it down - all while still nose-deep in your pussy. He pulls away, the absolute mess of spit and slick still connecting him to you and covering his devilish grin. It makes your cunt throb once more. 

“Couples therapy is too expensive anyway.”, he rolls his eyes. 

You spot the very obvious outline of Satoru’s cock straining against his trousers. He looked painfully hard. 

God, you needed him.

Reaching out an unsteady hand, “Let me-” you begin before you were interrupted by his hands tenderly intertwining with yours for the nth time this night. His soft lips press a gentle kiss to them. And despite the lewd acts you two had been doing not even a minute before, this is what makes your cheeks heat up the most.

“I want you so bad, you wouldn’t even believe. But trust me, where we’re going I can have you however I want. Properly.” his words strained, and going straight to your pussy. 

And it’s the last thing said before he pulls your skirt back down and opens the door, only carrying you carefully to his passenger seat. “Safety first.” Satoru chirps, as he pulls over your seatbelt before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s seat.

Was he coddling you?

The drive to Satoru’s place is slightly rushed, his impatience showing in the way his fingers drum against the steering wheel. 

Fingers that were in you. 

Your cheeks burn as you try not to look behind and see the mess that you surely left on his overpriced seats. Whether from the blasting AC or from the prospect of what was about to happen, goosebumps rise on your skin. 

They stay prominent as Satoru pulls into the extravagant driveway of the type of apartment complex that you’d sneer at on a normal day. 

You feel very out of place at the gaudy entrance without panties under your short skirt. 

Satoru hands his keys to the valet before steadily making his way to you, pulling you to him with a strong arm around your waist. “Told ya I got a lil’ place nearby.” he drawls into your ear.

“Nothing too little about this place. Compensating?” you tease, and watch his eyes crinkle as he laughs. 

“Well. You’ll find out soon enough.” 

The walk to the elevator is rushed, and you two have to fight to keep your hands to yourselves if you didn’t want to permanently scar the sweet old couple riding it alongside you. 

Finally. Finally you reach his floor,

Penthouse, you note.

“Couples therapy is expensive” my ass! Does this guy run a drug cartel or what?

Roughly pushing you against his door, Satoru’s lips are once again on yours. He firmly grinds his erection against your core, massaging your ass in the process. 

Ah, you don’t think he’s compensating. 

A deep moan leaves Satoru as he feels the clenching of your naked cunt against him. You yelp when he moves your legs to wrap around his waist, effectively lifting you off the ground as if you weigh nothing. 

One hand steadying you, he quickly punches in the code to his door.

Even as he enters and kicks the door closed, Satoru’s lips don’t leave yours. He blindly turns on a light before pulling back to admire you. You felt like you were losing your sanity, “You’re stupidly good at this, y’know.” you murmur, uncharacteristically somewhat shy. 

He chuckles, removing your shoes before setting you down. Yet, your feet touch his cold mahogany floors for only a split second before Satoru has you in a bridal carry. “Save your praises for the bedroom, doll.” he chuckles out.

It’s a short walk to his room - or maybe Satoru was rushing - but his lips are on you as soon as your back hits the soft navy sheets of his king-sized bed. Maybe if you were in a clear state of mind you’d better appreciate the beauty of Satoru’s sleek interior décor. But right now you were only focused on the open-mouthed kisses he was leaving on your covered breasts.

“I have a feeling you’ll like me a lot less if I rip this off.” he tugs on the hem of your shirt with his teeth. 

“Duh. And you really talk too much.” you huff out in impatience and quickly discard your top while Satoru pulls off your skirt. 

He pecks you, hand reaching behind to unclasp your bra and leave you completely bare to him. “Not fair that I’m the only one naked.” your voice tinged with embarrassment as you start unbuttoning his shirt while he teases and pulls at your hardened nipples. Satoru lets you manhandle him to your liking, and manhandle him you did. 

You flip your positions so that you are straddling him, overpriced white button-up now thrown across the room. 

Holy shit, he really is a gym rat.

You kiss your way down the white happy trail on his sculpted body, squeezing his pecs and licking long stripes up his prominent abs. “Hah- yes. Please.” Satoru’s moans sound heavily, and it spurs you to make quick work removing his belt. Rivaling your impatience, he hooks a thumb under his trousers and urgently discards it. 

Yeah, definitely not compensating. 

Satoru is long, and flushed a pretty pink that matches his cheeks. His weeping tip makes the prominent vein along his length glisten in the low light. So perfect.

Mouth salivating, Satoru watches you with predatory eyes as you lean closer and closer. “Bigger than your lil’ boyfriend, huh?” he hums cockily. You roll your eyes and shut him up by spitting right on his flushed head. You kiss it slowly, relishing in the low hiss drawn from him, 

“Hngh- F-fuck, doll”. Pumping his base slowly, you take his head into your mouth. Bobbing at a steady rhythm that has Satoru’s eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Fuck. So fuckin’ good. Keep- keep going.” Satoru moans. You hum around him in a way that has his hips bucking into your mouth. You could tell - he wanted to push you down like a fucktoy and chase his high, but right now he was completely under your control.

Nails digging into his toned hips, you take his cock in further. “Yes yes yes yes. Jus’ like that.” he whines, one hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and the other gripping onto the bed sheets. 

It was messy. Drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, you gag on Satoru’s length as you suck it. Suddenly, his grip on your hair has you pulling off of his cock with a pop. 

His hand moves to squish your wet lips together in a pout, “Can’t have me finish before the main course now, can we, doll?” his gravelly voice drawls. 

In a split-second, Satoru flips your position to hover over you. His hands groping and admiring every inch of skin he can see. Eventually, his fingers find their way back to your cunt, “Such a pretty pussy. All f’me.” he spreads your lips teasingly before plunging inside - two fingers easily finding the spot from before. 

Ever the multitasker, he sucks and teases your nipples, switching between the two to give them equal attention. You writhe, the pleasure from every point becoming too much. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru don’ stop” you moan out. 

He adds another finger at a relentless pace, “Satoru! S- Toru! Toru. I’m close.” your words slur together as Satoru’s name falls like a prayer from your mouth. You were still sensitive from before, so it wasn’t long before you were cumming all over Satoru’s fingers with a final mewl. 

But you two weren’t done - far from it. 

“Need you so bad, Toru.” you breathe out, half-lucidly. 

Proud smirk on his face, Satoru quickly fishes out a condom from his bedside drawer. Through the hazy aftermath of your second climax, you hear him mumble sweet reassurances to you as he rolls you over onto your stomach. 

A soft caress of his fingers at your pussy and you feel his head rubbing your folds. 

Worriedly you breathe out, “Toru- it won’t-”

“Shhh, doll. I’ll make it.” 

You whine in both pain and ecstasy as Satoru bullies his thick cock into your cunt. “Oh god. S’tight. So fucking tight.” he gasps out in pleasure, starting to move in shallow thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

His large hand pushes down on your back, making you arch into his cock, the other starts incessantly rubs desperate circles on your sensitive clit. A few tears stream down your face from the sheer overstimulation. But it felt good - so good. Your moans grow louder as the pleasure starts overtaking the pain.

“More, Toru.”

“Oh yeah?”

Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, until he finally buries his cock into you as deep as it could go. Throaty groans spilling out of his mouth, he leans over and bites you at the crook of your neck hard, still slamming into you at an intense tandem. You yelped at both the new angle and the bite which was sure to leave a lasting mark.

Now, Satoru has tolerated many types of people through clubbing, your bastard boyfriend wasn’t any different. It was when he showed a picture of you that things got interesting. 

Perfect. So perfect. You’d be better off with someone else than that smug lil’ gremlin. Like him…

And when he saw you tonight dancing like that.

Satoru had to have you.

“Bet he never fucked you like this.” His every word punctuated by a hard thrust. Shit, you didn’t even want to think about him right now. Your walls flutter around Satoru’s thick cock, throaty groans leaving him as his toned arm grabs the headboard for some stability. “Pussy fuckin’ sucking me in just right. Hah- so good.”

Feeling that very familiar coil in your abdomen, you mewl, “Toru- I’m gonna-”, face burying deeper into his luxurious bed. 

Suddenly, the friction you crave so badly halts as Satoru pulls out to flip you onto your back with a playful smack to your ass. “Fuck. Wanna look at your beautiful face as you cum.” he mutters into your ear. 

Leaning down to tug on your breasts, he looks at you with deceivingly innocent eyes as he keeps up his merciless cadence. Your arms reach around his muscled back to dig your nails into the unblemished skin. It felt so animalistic, the way his heavy balls were slapping your ass, stimulating you just right. Your hips buck up to meet Satoru’s, causing him to let out a strangled moan “Shit, doll. Pussy made jus’ for me. I’m so close.”

“M-me too.” his fingers start their abuse on your clit once more, “Hngh- Toru.” you whimper. Overstimulated and senses filled with only Satoru, you finally cum, riding it out on his deep thrusts. 

Tears stream down your face as you come for the 3rd time tonight. 

“Fuck- FUCK. Yeah, cum on my cock, doll. Jus’ like that.” he moans out as your pussy clenches down on him, finally tipping over the edge as well. 

You feel Satoru cum in hot spurts into the condom, rasping your name over and over as if it was the only word he knew. 

He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his full bodyweight. As you both come down from your highs, he quickly removes the condom and hugs your sweaty body closer to his. You feel more relaxed than you have in ages. Moves veiled in exhaustion, Satoru nuzzles your hickies as a lover would. 

So he was a cuddler.

Giggling at the contrast from before, you lay there in a blissed out silence almost has you falling asleep. You take the moment to appreciate just how pretty Satoru in his post-orgasmic euphoria was. Cloudy locks disheveled, and lips a wet, rosy pink. His cerulean eyes were barely keeping open as he gives innocent pecks to your lips.

The serenity is disrupted by a familiar, unpleasant cacophony of vibrations near the edge of the bed where your phone had been thrown. The fucked out little smile on Satoru’s face grows as he realizes who it is. “Gonna answer the phone, doll?” he rasps out.

You raise a brow, “Why? Wanna give him a show?” you tease, not expecting the hum of agreement from Satoru. “Why not? Show him jus’ how I fuck you right?” he cocks his head, challenging you. 

Your knee brushes up against his half-hard cock, causing a drawn-out hiss from him. His hips lightly rutting into you, you watch in satisfaction as tears spring to Satoru’s half-alert eyes. From pleasure or overstimulation? Probably both.

Well, the score was You - 1, Satoru - 3. 

Might as well try and catch up. 

Round two, you guess.

You snatch your phone before it topples off the now-untucked bedsheets. 

Naoya <3 is video calling…

Pinning Satoru down, you scoot down the bed and hand him your phone, which he gratefully takes with a mischievous smile. Positioning yourself in-between his strong legs, you gently kiss his twitching cock, now painted with spit and cum.

The delicate tears in his eyes now track down his flushed face. Satoru lets out a choked out whine, bucking his hips and smearing his cum all over your swollen lips. 

And he answers the call. 

“Where- WHAT THE FUCK???”

Happy anniversary, you jerk.

A/N. I don’t condone cheating but c’mon it’s Gojo Satoru.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[honestlymysticalexpert]

Astro-Observations.

I realize having 2H-8H, 4H-10H, and 6H-12H placements is common for women. And being feminine houses explains alot.

And in that way, 10H would represent the martriachy while the Guru in the philosophical 9H would represent patriarchy.

I think Aquarius is the archetype of the absolute masculine and Pisces the absolute feminine.

I've noticed air pairs up well with water and earth with fire. Air understands intensity as much as water does. Where air is a hermit and water a healer. Also water recognizes air is crazy like pixie crazy, whereas being entertained by the fact that they're the lunacy crazy, but they only under-estimate air. 🍃 this psycho-active game is what keeps the two going. Fun pair.

Air and earth at first seems boring, but the more they peek underneath the unmoving stability and silence of earth, they realize a humor that's hard to forget. And because air is timeless in the end, earth with it's tranquility wins the air to earth. Air brings a breeze; and this becomes a tropical 🍹 love.

The stubborn unmoving nature of earth is well understood by the inspiring nature of fire.

----I believe any synastry could work, and should if it was meant to be, and not to leave anything to fate 🍃 but even the most difficult like 8H 💄 synastry has worked in numerous cases for different individuals.

---I think the 4H 🏡 as one of the angular houses is very important since it's home and home is where the heart is. And the heart is the store for all our spiritual and earthly treasures. So it would make sense that originally cancer was ruled by ♃ Jupiter the planet 🌏 of abundance 💰.

Generally Jupiter for a woman's chart denotes the "earthly treasures" through the 🕺 Husband, and representing foreign cultures goes to say literally the woman as a home maker is accepted native to all cultures, belonging to none and therefore. The 9H being where the woman gets a culture they'll marry into, men as suitors, and residents of the 9H house. HENCE the 9H placements.

As for the man ; the Venus position indicates where they marry from. Nature and background of the woman in their 4H.

Literally the only axis that matter for a woman are the ones mentioned above concluding 1H-7H, 3H-9H, 5H-11H, to be the ones that matter for the man. And so the placements in it, infact this is relative and common on most Natal charts.

The mars 💉 placements show our actions, traditionally represented by scorpio(feminine) and the Aries (Masculine).

Also Mars is where we get adrenaline from, things "energize" us, ENERGY. ⛮ Meaning for the men the (ethereal) appeal comes from how consciously awake they are, and for the woman, the transformation they can do, as home makers in building Inheritance, as well as "the shared resources."

----The 8H, of shared Inheritance goes ahead to be a shadow of the 12H 🌊 what proceeds the eternity of a soul. Where Venus is exalted in Pisces again making it the highest archetype of a woman, in being the "golden alchemist of love". Compassion. Women are Soulful according to the 12H.

And ⚙ according to the 11H the epitome of the masculine, men are revolutionary. Fathers of civilizations. And because it all fair in love and war. Love is also a feminine form of civilization.

Fire and earth belong together too, like air and water.

That being said all chaos return to order, and all order is born from chaos. Therefore each harmful aspect in a birthchart appears to be neutralized by a uniquely powerful order in the chart. I think that makes astrology a "divine" science.

Edit; am thinking Leos have to be self sufficient because they are primarily ruled by the sun. "The father" in astrology and therefore being the energy of sustenance it will and must show in them and on them in a certain way. "Boss vibes" 😎 ✅

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

OMG???? OMG<3333333

background.. practice(?)

[azullumi]

“lyra” ; dazai osamu

summary — the many times you felt loved by him and the one where a confession happened.

pairing — dazai osamu (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff (kind of), utilization of the friends to lovers trope, slightly proofread, 2.1k words ; one-shot

tagging — @toorurs

note — i literally haven’t written for him for years now and i swear i lost my mind and pulled my hair,, i could have done this better !?

Dazai is unpredictable.

In more ways than one, he is erratic, able to conceal his intentions beneath that long trench coat of his, tucked in the loose parts of his bandages, hidden somewhere only he can see. He is the definition of an enigma, he is more than a puzzle, not just a paradox that continues to exist despite death being the only companion and comforting thing to him—a man of mystery that is better left unknown.

“My, you always look as ethereal and beautiful as a lotus blossom.” The dark-haired man says as he holds your hand in his, his finger delicately tracing the lines of your palm, and his eyes looked softer than usual, his gaze holding something that lies between the line of affection and seduction. Sparkles and flowers seem to bloom behind him, the background of the cafe fading and turning into a plain pink one with hearts that float around his figure.

(Flirty.)

He’s fluent in the language of amorous words laced with playfulness accompanied with gentle touches and slow caresses on your skin. He doesn’t hesitate in getting close, invading your space and going over the line, and maybe he’ll show that he is into you but only a fool would think of his words as genuine affection meant for you and only you.

“My eternal light to the darkness, would you be willing to—” However, he’s unable to finish his sentence as you take your hand back from him, offering him a smile instead as you subtly set a distance between the both of you—as if you were telling him to never cross the line, to stay at an arms’ distance.

“Good morning, Dazai. What brings you here to the cafe?”

Fortunately, you weren’t a fool.

“Ah, rejection again, I see.” The pink background that blooms behind me seemingly shifts into a dark one as the man’s expression contorts into a mix of sadness and disappointment, all displayed in an overly dramatic way; his form is slumped, faux tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, and his lips are in a pout. The sound of a short (mirth) laughter is heard from you—you’ve gotten used to this sight of him, of his dramatic expressions, and flirty approaches just to ask you something ridiculous.

“I’m here for you.” He says.

(And persistent.)

You have witnessed evidence of his persistence expressed in his words and actions every time he’s free from any of his work and he comes to the cafe you work at (his definition of free is escaping from his responsibilities and choosing to slack off). He’ll always take the opportunity to hold your hand, whisper such affectionate words only one would say to their lover, and he’ll kiss your skin so gently as if it was made from glass.

That was what happened in the first meeting between you and him—first day on your work in this cafe and just as you were serving the order of this loud group that the owner is acquainted with, you caught the eye of the man covered in bandages and dressed in a somewhat messy yet orderly way. Then you know how it went and from then on, Dazai doesn’t let the chance to bother you slip from his grasp.

But you don’t fall for it, never would you. You’re not supposed to and you’re not going to. He has said such similar things to other people who he deems beautiful or attractive, he has touched others and tainted them with his caresses the same way he did with yours, his lips have felt the softness of others’ skin, not only yours. You’d be stupid enough to think that there’s something more lingering in the depths of his voice, something different that tugs at his tone and threatens it to break.

The two of you are just friends, maybe even less than that.

“Where’s Kunikida?” You ask him, eyes roaming around to look for a single strand of golden but there was nothing. You failed to notice the falter in the expression of the man before you, tension seeping into his features for a moment before it eases at the mention of another man’s name. You continue, “Are you slac—” only to be interrupted by the sound of the door chime ringing followed by a set of heavy footfalls.

A loud shout of Dazai’s name is heard, echoing off the brick-patterned walls of the place, as Kunikida enters. There was a furious look on his face, nose fuming as he spotted the one he was looking for and as soon as he did, Kunikida smacked the back of Dazai’s head. There goes it, you know how this would unfold, how everything would happen—you’re used to it, having already seen this scene enough times to tell how it would end: Kunikida will scold Dazai, calls him with a new nickname (it’s President of Wasted Bandages this time), drags him outside but before that, he’ll apologize on behalf of his co-worker’s behavior, and you’ll wave at them as they leave.

“Why do you always come to ruin good moments, Kunikida? Do you not wish to see me happy?”

“Happy?! Maybe if you stop slacking off, you'll be happy.”

You could hear their distant argument and you heave out a sigh when they disappear from your sight, the smile fading from your lips as the loneliness looms over your figure. Silence rests heavily on your shoulders and you ignore the ache in your chest.

The cafe is located on the first floor where the detective agency is and you work alongside a waitress and a kind owner. Members of the agency are often seen frequenting the place, thus you’ve become familiar with their faces, memorized their names, and even learned some things about themselves. Honestly, it’s all simple for you; you have a nice and peaceful job (ignoring the chaos around you and the occasional disturbance from Dazai), and you’re being paid well. What else could you ever wish for? It was all serene for you.

Not this time though.

It seems like luck has run out for you seeing that you’re bound on the ground right at this moment, becoming a hostage to a small criminal group. Everything that happened prior feels like a blur, you remember men suddenly entering the cafe with guns and threatening everyone, you remember them hurting the owner, and you remember being taken away. They want to use you as bait, a guarantee for the detective agency so that they will bite and get lured into the criminals’ trap, or whatever they were telling you earlier. You weren’t listening—maybe you were but their words just passed from one ear to another—, hands curled into a fist as it trembled, the cold floor felt like spikes stabbing into your skin, and as the rope dug into your skin.

Afraid? Perhaps you were. It’s not everyday you get a gun pointed at you and a man threatening your life. Is this how you’re going to die?

You try to distract and ease yourself by thinking of other things, your mind drifting to somewhere else instead of staying at where you are—the cat that you occasionally see across the street, the passing cars you’ll see outside the window, the music playing from the vinyl in the cafe, the ringing of the chime as the door opens, and the dark-haired man and eyes that reflect the earth. Dazai with his never-ending tab, with his continuous ridiculous offers, his dramatic expressions, his stupid whims, the way he would always annoy you as if it was a daily requirement, his messy bangs that frames his face, his words that poke and probe at your being, and his—

You are snapped out of your thoughts, a familiar voice calling your name, coming into the stream of your senses, and pulling you out of the daze that you are in.

“Dazai?” Something is drowning in the pools of his eyes, lurking in the depths, and the way he looks at you is different. The usual calm in his expression is disturbed by a mixture of emotions—like rain droplets on a surface of still water—, anger, worry, care merging into the gentle lines of his features. Your hands that were once bound were free, though your wrists are left with marks from the rope bindings and you could still feel the way it burns on your skin.

“What happened? Why are you here? Are you hurt? Did you come alone? How did you find me?” Many questions came pouring out of your mouth but your voice trembles as you speak, tone unstable as the words fall and shatter on the ground. Dazai only lets you, your form crumbling and he holds your pieces in his hand, and he assures you: “Everything is alright.”

He continues, taking off his coat to wrap it around your form, “Were you scared?” And you meekly nod, knowing that your voice will only betray you. Dazai doesn’t say anything and only pulls you close to him, embracing you in his arms (“I’m sorry I took so long.”). There was the scent of his perfume accompanied with a trace of gunpowder when you buried your face on his chest—you feel a sense of relief, comfort and warmth that makes its way through your thoughts and the feeling of suffocation slowly leaves you.

He draws small circles on your back as he tries to soothe you, “You’re safe now.” He whispers as he kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering for a few seconds as he inhales the smell of your hair. (You’ve never had him this close before, this soft, this warm. It feels like the man you have known him as before were all fabrications from your illusive mind and the one before you is a different person.)

He brings your hand towards his lips and he presses a kiss on your pulse, right where the marks of your wrists are, ever so gently, ever so sweetly, “Nobody will hurt you ever again.”

You descend down the flight of stairs leading to a basement—a bar tucked away and hidden in plain sight. You’ve only known of it all thanks to a certain blabbermouth, he said it’s his favorite place to go. When you arrive, the interior shifts to a dimly-lit one with warm lights illuminating the whole place in contrast to the dark and foggy street outside. There’s the sound of jazz softly playing in the background, setting the tranquil ambience the whole bar carries.

And there he is, the man of the hour, basking underneath the golden glow. Sitting on the stool by the end of the counter, he has a glass of whiskey settled in front of him.

“I didn’t expect for you to actually come.” Dazai speaks, his voice molding into the gentleness of the song playing.

“I was curious. Though I didn’t know you'd be here at the same time.”

“Come sit.” He pats the spot beside him and you follow. You order something to drink as you sit and a glass is served in front of you after a few minutes. Silence crept up to the both of you as you didn’t say anything—and you wish you could read his mind at this moment, to know the thoughts that plagues his mind—and the stillness was an unbearable kind;

You begin, “Do you always come here?”

Dazai takes a sip from his glass before he answers, “Just often.”

“I see.” And before the silence could last even longer, you spoke once more: “You haven’t been coming to the cafe lately.”

“Why? Did you miss me? Are you finally going to take up my—“

“No.” He muttered a small “aw” at your firm rejection. “You still have an unpaid tab.” And he groans at that while you chuckle, finding amusement in the way his expression crumpled.

The sound of your laughter dies down after a few moments, trailing off to a gentle mutter of an: “Thank you.”

“For?” He asks, even if he already knows what you’re talking about.

“For back then.” For giving you his coat as he noticed you shivering, for assuring you that everything is okay and you’re not going to be harmed anymore, for blocking your sight of the men’s bodies that laid like lifeless corpses on the ground, for protecting you.

It has been weeks since it occurred but you could still feel the warmth of his body against yours and maybe his scent will linger no matter how much you try to wash it, and maybe you’ll have to forever carry the thought, the wishful thinking that maybe there’s something more. And maybe it’s the alcohol making him light-headed but three words are whispered to the air that settles in the space between you and him.

“I like you.”

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Plushies!

JJK Actor AU. Kinda headcannon to what their “out of character” persona would be like. Basically you have plushies of them and they have opinions about it.

Inspired by another fic, can’t remember the name and I scrolled for an HOUR for it. All the character had texts prompts in them.

Maybe spoiler???

Nanami Kento

Continuation of this post

- Between you simping so hard for his onscreen self and the plushies, he is so tierd.

- He’s been acting since his late teens but had one big breakout role. Since you two started dating you have made it a mission to collect any fan content that involves a role he is in.

- Even in the roles where he’s evil you have a mountain of merch!

- He loves that you are so supportive but the Nanami obsession is next level. He’d be more upset if it wasn’t just his face.

- He loves you so he puts up with the Nanami plushies.

Gojo Satoru

- Date an actor they say! It’ll be fine they said! Literally wtf.

- He’s a lot like his character in terms of playfulness. You have gone on record to say they are pretty 1:1 with each other.

- So naturally, when you bring home a Gojo plushie he is distraught.

“I can’t believe you would cheat on me!”

“IT’S A TOY!”

- He kicks Gojo off the bed all the time. Now Gojo Plushie sleeps on the living room couch.

- He still gets up every morning and complains that there’s another man in your apartment when he isn’t there (completely disregarding that you are at work half the time)

- He is secretly looking for artist to commission to make a matching plushie of you.

Geto Suguru

- He HATES it.

- Not just because it’s a plushie of Geto in his Kenjaku era but also because you got it from a con. It’s not licensed merchandise. Meaning stuff he would have gotten for basically free.

- In fact “Sugu-Mini” was just the beginning of a small empire of Suguru plushies you acquired over his duration on the show.

“Why are they all so fucking ugly? Why don’t you ever buy the cute ones?”

- Would rather die than admit that he’s jealous you hold one in you lap while working or lean on them when on the couch.

- Finally stops complaining when you move them to your home office and cuddle with him again.

Kamo Choso

- Sweet angle baby. He actually loves that you love plushies so when he got casted as Choso he would made it a mission to get you one of the first plushies they made.

- It makes you happy so he is ready to get you as many as you wants. He posts on insta a lot so when he mentions looking for more Choso plushies it practically goes viral.

- The next con he went two it took like three attendants to help him lug all the plushies he got. He later posted on insta that night a picture of his bed covered in Choso plushies.

- Eagle eyed fans noticed something though. The layout of the bedroom look eerily similar to another person who made a post about their brand new Choso plush. What are the odds?

- You both turn it into a game, posting photos with an increasing amount of Choso’s everytime.

- This actually starts a trend, #chosoplushietakeover. There’s not a single cast member or crew mate that doesn’t have a Choso plushie. It’s wild.

Ieiri Shoko

- She’s always been a natural beauty, so graceful and ethereal like. Playing someone collected and laid-back like Shoko was a welcomed surprise.

- Even though her role is smaller compared to everyone else, she loved it anyway. Any video from production has her somewhere in the background.

- As another devoted con-goer she also gets a bunch of plushies and brings them all to you. You two have at least 1 plushies in every room in your home. You both even carry a keychain version on your bags.

Iori Utahime

- like her character she has a deep seated hatred for Gojo’s actor but in more of a rivalry way. They are both child stars that got casted a lot together. For a short amount of time they were a ship.

- she originally posted a cute (cropped) picture of her plushie with you sitting off to the side.

- then Gojo did the same.

- So she posted another handmade plushie on her story.

- So did he.

- At this point she wanted him DEAD cause she knows how he feels about those plushies so he’s doing this just to piss her off. It would be that bad if he wasn’t actively bragging about ratioing her.

- Soon enough it becomes the battle of the plushies between these two. Factors are formed in the fandom. No mercy, all glory, blood for the blood god.

Ijichi Kiyotaka

- Doesn’t have any official plushies.

- it isn’t until you buy one online that he kinda cares.

- He treats that plushie like it’s your son. He has a pillow on the living room couch that is HIS pillow. No one can use it, not even guests.

Fushiguro Toji

- He hates it.

- He thinks they’re creepy. He’s never liked stuffed animals ever since he was a kid. None of your kids even have stuffed animals outside of like, 1 teddy bear each.

- Everytime you enter the room he is practicing wrestling moves on the poor thing with your son. You’re just happy you got a good quality one cause it had lasted through some rounds of combat.

Ryomen Sukuna

- I imagine him also being a child star but his career took off when him and his younger brother (Yuuji’s actor) starred in a drama together.

- They did not fight the twin allegations. Sukuna is older though by 5 years. As they’ve gotten older, they’ve gotten easier to differentiate.

- He straight up stole his brother’s Yuuji plush and drew Sukuna’s tattoos on it.

-Combined you two have five plushies:

A pillow one that he uses as a back rest. Two keychain versions. The drawn on Yuuji plush. And an ugly one that got messed up in manufacturing that is your personal favorite.

- He is essentially a plushie thief, if you lend it to him you will never see it again. He is currently has the second most Choso plushie count cause he keeps stealing others. Yours included!

[idleoblivion]

"An Unexpected Lesson in Envy" Cater Diamond x GN Reader

Synopsis: Cater wants to show off pictures of you on Magicam, but the online response is not what he was expecting.

Word Count: ~1.4k

A/N: Well it turns out that Cater’s speech and whole overuse of internet lingo thing feels so unnatural to write for me so I think I ended up making him more serious than I was supposed to lol, I did my best. Also the @ looks like that cause I almost accidentally tagged a real person lol

Warnings: jealousy, light reverse comfort

“Come on, just a few more!”

“You said that ten minutes ago!”

You loved him, you did, but your boyfriend had a habit of roping you into photo shoots that could be inconveniently long. You were too cute, he’d always say, he couldn’t help it. You were in the gardens of Heartslabyul, which made for the perfect background as well. Today though, you have a history essay that you really need to get started on. If you stuck around too much longer, you’d have to work pretty late into the night to finish in time. 

“You’re so cruel to leave me~” he whines, which you respond to with a lighthearted glare. “Fine,” he sighs, “We’ve already gotten enough good pics anyway.”

“Thanks. I’ll text you later tonight.” You quickly kiss his cheek before hurrying back to your dorm to work. 

Cater returns to his room as well. While he’s ascending the tall, twisted stairs to get there, he’s scrolling through all the photos he got today. He’s almost giddy as he looks through them, you ended up with some fantastic shots today. 

He flops onto his back on his bed and starts collecting his favorite ones to post. He decides on a short collection of them, and rushes to Magicam to show them off. 

‘Some adorbs photos with @ ididntasktobehere in the gardens! Some of my fav pics I’ve taken! #aesthetic #gorgeous #photoshoot #CayCaythebestphotographer’

He smiles to himself, satisfied with the caption he typed out. He posts them immediately, excited to see the response that they’ll get. And the attention starts coming within minutes of posting. 

He knew the pictures would get some popularity, his followers liked almost anything he posted featuring the gardens, and you were always a stunning model in his opinion. What he doesn’t expect is the amount of attention. The comments and likes start rolling in like they never have for him. No other post of his has gone as viral as this one. 

He’s ecstatic about it, until he starts actually reading the comments. 

-OMG, who is that? They are BEAUTIFUL 

-literally ethereal omg

-They could slap me and I’d actually thank them for real

-JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE I BEG

He’s…conflicted. 

Of course you’re beautiful, and of course people would notice. That was to be expected, so why was his chest still feeling tighter and tighter the more he read?

He wasn’t the jealous type, really. He never got upset if you were affectionate with your friends. He never blamed you if some other guy flirted with you, because of course you always turned them down. And as long as they took no for an answer, he couldn’t really blame them for finding you attractive either. 

It’s never been so many people though. Especially all at once. It wasn’t just one person who wanted your attention, it had turned into hundreds thanks to his post. People were praising you with every compliment they could think of, and some were even asking if you were single. 

Your account was private, so he wasn’t worried about you being flooded with unwanted attention suddenly. But he was worried about what you’d think if you saw all the comments. Would you be uncomfortable? 

…Would you like them? He guesses he could understand if you did, everyone was being so nice and complimentary. But he realizes a part of him really doesn’t want you to. 

He was the uncomfortable one. As uncharacteristic as it was, he was jealous and had to admit it. 

Now he was at a loss for what to do, though. Does he delete the post? You followed him, so if you checked once you were done with your essay and the pictures weren’t there, you might ask what happened to them. He technically could respond to everyone that you were taken, but didn’t that make him seem insecure? He should be able to just brush it off, he thinks. 

It’s getting late by this point, and he decides to just try and ignore it for the night. He’d deal with any more comments in the morning, when his head was a little clearer. 

—-

He could not ignore it for the night. Every few hours he was up and checking for any more replies to his post, always finding at least a few new ones. His frown deepened with each additional comment. For the first time, he was actually loathing the popularity of his own post.

You could tell something was off when he greeted you with only a half-hearted smile and spent your whole walk to class together clearly lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t any better anytime you spotted him in the hall between classes. He still wasn’t any better at the end of the school day, which is why you follow him to his dorm to confront him about it.

“Come on, you know you’ve been weird today. Are you feeling sick? Is something wrong?” “It really isn’t that big of a deal.” There’s absolutely zero pep in his tone, none of his usual Cater mannerisms present. He seems almost exhausted.

“That’s a lie and you know it. Cater, why can’t you talk to me about it?” He ponders for a second, still feeling guilty for being jealous in the first place. But clearly he wasn’t hiding it well, and making you worry about him didn’t feel very good either. So he takes a deep breath in before laying out everything that happened with the post.

“...That’s it? I saw the post, you even tagged me. I looked at the comments too when I saw you were getting so many. I honestly just rolled my eyes at them. I didn’t realize they were making you upset.”

“I…I guess I didn’t expect to be either? I just…I don’t know why. It’s not like I think you’d break up with me for one of them or anything.”

“It’s still okay to feel weird about it though. Do you want to take the post down?” “I thought about it, but I’m not sure. And the same thing might happen if I ever post more.” He seems extra dejected at the thought of that. Luckily, an idea pops into your head.

You grab his phone out of his hand. He looks at you surprised, but lets you open up his camera and sit next to him.

“Okay, now like this…” You put his arm around you and lean into him close. He seems to get the idea at this point and smiles widely before pulling you in tightly himself. You both position yourselves in frame, and you press your lips to his cheek as you take the picture.

When you pull away and hand him his phone back, his mood has already flipped completely. Even more so as he types out his next caption:

‘Thanks for the love on the pics we posted! Me and my lovely partner @ ididntasktobehere have been reading all the nice comments together! #cutestcouple #cutiesinlove’

“‘Cuties in love?’ Get rid of that, that’s embarrassing.” “But it’s true! We’re a couple of cuties, the cutest couple in the school!”

He laughed at himself and closed his phone with a satisfied grin. He was sure the two of you got the point across to everyone. With his confidence restored, he looks at you and starts brainstorming again.

“Oooh, maybe Vil will let us use one of the rooms at Pomefiore, everything in there is so fancy, it would totally blow up if we did a little shoot there.” “You’re seriously already planning another?” You laugh.

Of course he was. Now that everyone had it straight that you were taken, he was going to take every opportunity to show you off. 

Plus, if anybody had something to say, he could always just ask you to kiss him on camera again. In fact, he decides, he’ll probably ask you even if they don’t. Because as good as showing you off felt, it didn’t feel nearly as good as showing off that you were his and he was yours.

[polyo-nym-y]

Desserts, Served.

[Bon Appétit Pt.2]

————————————————————

————————————————————

Alastor x Female Reader

[What to expect/Warnings: NSFW MDNI!!Blood, begging, P in V, you get restrained by his tendrils, soft ending, dirty talk, idk its tame for how I write Alastor LOL]

[Part 1 Here]

[Link to full drawing here]

Hello! Oh my goodness I am just utterly speechless by the positivity within this little horny community!

Thank you to everyone who liked my first post and who commented wanting a part two. This is for you guys <3 I’m sorry it took FOREVER to finish but I was nervous about disappointing lol.

But I needed to get this posted cause I have SO much planned for the future >:3

————————————————————

You watched as his long fingers hook under each suspender, slowly slinking them off his shoulders. He sent a toothy grin down to your disheveled form. As if the red of his eyes were literal hell-fire, you felt his gaze rake over your body, heat quickly following wherever they went. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?” His voice was low and heavy, the sound settling in your ears but you were unable to process what he exactly said. Your own rapid heart rate was all you could focus on as you tried to calm yourself down from the overdose of dopamine you just experienced.

A chuckle rattled from him as he reached a hand out, talons holding your chin to direct your gaze at him. His ears twitched as he cocked his head to the side, staring into your wide and glossy gaze. “Hello~? Still with me? I don’t recall eating that tongue of yours.”

Your head was foggy from your release and eyes too focused on how beautiful he looked right now. The room was dark save for the soft lighting of a lamp on a far table. His eyes glowing ethereally and his smile softening around the edges.

Alastor leaned, pressing his hips further against you. The feeling of his clothed hard-on against your exposed flesh was more than enough to wake you from your dreamy state. Glancing down trying to see him pressed into you. “W-What?”

“I asked you a question.” Pinching your chin his claws dug in slightly, trying to get your eyes back up to his. “It’s not a proper meal without dessert, you know.” He hummed a tune you didn’t recognize as he leaned back and away from you. “But if you’re full-“ He physically withdrew himself from you, reusing the same manipulation tactic he used earlier.

Just as he hoped, it brought panic to your eyes. Once again the idea of losing his touch rocked you to your core, literally. Suddenly realizing how cold and empty you felt without him and his addicting touch. The exhaustion you once felt melted away as you pushed yourself up from resting on your elbows. You lurched forward, fingers yanking Alastor in by his shirt. Crashing your lips into his you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him into you, ensuring he couldn’t back away any further.

He watched with wide eyes for only a moment before he quickly melted into the kiss. One arm wrapped around your waist to press you flush to his chest. His other hand came to hold you by the back of your neck with a firm pressure.

His half-lidded gaze never left you as he swiped his tongue over your lips, asking entrance. To his dismay, however, you instead pulled away from him. His long fingers tightening at your neck as you struggled to pull your lips from his, his own hunger and greed showing.

You slowly slipped your eyes open to find him already staring at you. Having leaned away from his lips just enough to ghost words across them. “I’ll never count a meal as satisfying until I’m feeling stuffed.” You could feel his grin grow as he narrowed his eyes on you. “And I’m famished.”

Once again you felt the air around you grow heavy. Static began to prick at your skin as it buzzed in your ears. The lamp flickered in the background as the entire room grew darker. “Oh, Mon Cher…” his words were so heavily filtered you could barely hear him, the static began to rise further. His claws danced from the back of your neck as his hand nestled to your front. His large palm gripping you by your throat as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I'm going to fuck you stupid.” Instantly, blood rushed to your cheeks. He dropped the innuendos and the shock from it had you frozen like a deer in headlights.

You felt him tighten his grip around your throat, lips parting to gasp air instinctively. The room grew dark, too dark, as the space was completely shrouded in shadows. The only presence was Alastor, his glowing gaze seeming brighter than before. His little antlers began to grow above you. Perhaps, you thought, you were indulging him too much.

Fear flooded your senses as he drew himself up from you, stature taller than before. Suddenly, you were being thrown down against the desk by your throat. Body tensing as you braced for a hard impact of wood and vintage radio equipment. Your hands flew to grip his wrist as you were thrown back. But the pain you expected never came as instead a plush softness enveloped you. You blinked, darting your gaze around as the shadows withdrew, allowing light back in.

The sound of a zipper and a rattling laugh snapped your attention back to Alastor. He loomed over where you laid on the edge of a soft surface. “Oh ho! You should’ve seen yourself just now!” His shoulders bounced, his genuine laughter had you squeezing your thighs together. “Fear looks good on you, my dear.” He’d coo over you.

Confused, you glance away from him as you begin to crawl backwards, you turn your attention to the room. Realizing you were no longer in his radio tower. Instead, you were resting on a soft bed in a familiar room, your room. “Wha-” You turned back to Alastor squinting up at him. “Oh, fuck you! You think you’re so funny?” You tried to keep the playful squint but you couldn’t stop the smile that wanted to form.

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, eyes glued to the open zipper as he untucked his shirt. The bed dipped as he stalked closer, his knee settling on the mattress. “I know I’m funny, darling.” You had just barely caught a glimpse of his dark happy trail before you came face to face with Alastor, who had crawled over to you. One black palm settled flush against your chest. A devious smirk returning to his features as he pushed you back down on your back.

A huff of air left your lungs as you were knocked down. Eyes scanning over his face as he situated himself above you. As you felt his hands pry your legs open at your knees, you let out a scoff. “Tch yeah…funny-looking..” you would taunt under your breath.

He quirked a brow at you as he sat on his knees between your legs. “Ha. Ha.” One of his hands worked on removing his bow tie whilst the other flicked the bite he left on your inner thigh. Chuckling when you flinched and yelped in reaction, the wound still raw and tender.

Your gaze lingered lower as he began popping the first few buttons of his shirt open. “You know? Maybe I should eat that naughty tongue of yours.” When your gaze snapped back up his bones cracked, antlers reaching out like dead tree limbs. He fell onto his palms as his large body caged you against the bed.

A nervous smile crossed your expression as that similar fear rose in you. But it wasn’t typical fear, no, this feeling was something raw and instinctual. The fear a prey would feel when cornered by a predator, with a sprinkle of lustful anticipation. Your body tensed under him as one hand grabbed your jaw, fingers that somehow grew longer squish your cheeks forward. “You’d miss it.” You’d mumble out with your lips being forced to purse.

“I don’t know, my dear, you can still moan without one~“ releasing your face, his hand trailed down between your breasts and settling on the softness of your stomach.

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard it before you realized what he was doing. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sound of ripping fabric. “Alastor!-“ a gasp of his name left you. He tore your nightgown straight down the middle and sliced the remains of your underwear that clung around your waist.

“I would, however, miss that.” His eyes fell from yours and followed down the dip of your breasts.

Just as quickly as you went to cover your exposed chest did his shadow-y tendrils appear. Multiple jutted out from his back as they wormed their way towards you, slipping around your wrists and tangling all the way down your elbows. You fought against them at first but they were stronger than you, as they yanked your arms above your head pressing them into the bed. Your back arches as you weakly struggle against his hold, mostly just testing him. But your body freezes as you feel something hot and hard smack against your pubis area.

One hand holds his exposed cock at the base where it pokes out from above his pants. A toothy grin as he watches you jolt with each smack of his swollen tip against the hood of your clit. The mere sight of him had your arousal re-awakening, needy cunt clenching around nothing.

“C’mon.” He slowly pumped his cock, spreading the precum that eagerly dripped from his tip. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”

Your jaw clenched at his vulgar request as you felt your whole body flush. Though your eyes never left the monster he held against you, swallowing nervously as your lips parted slowly. You found it difficult to ask for something so depraved. Not to mention you were growing more nervous at the realization that when his body grew larger, everything grew.

He saw your hesitation, and usually he’d take time to enjoy your dismay and embarrassment. But right now? He needed you completely and he was done stalling.

Lazily he rubbed his cock up and down your slit, mixing his pre-cum with your slick. When he saw your face contort he moved with more intention, his cock twitching in his hand as he rubbed against your clit slowly.

“Please..” you pleaded meekly as your eyes rose to meet his. The look he sent down to you sent a tingling feeling through your body. There was such a deep hunger in them that you were certain he was just as desperate for this as you were. The thought of The Radio Demon nearing a breaking point to have you? That had a small smirk forming across your face. You felt him twitch and throb against you as soon as you smiled.

“Alastor, Please.” His grin strained as he watched a cocky glint appear in your eyes. “You said you’d fuck me stupid. Aren’t you a man of your word?” You stretched as much as you could as you rolled your hips up against him. “Or is the scary Radio Demon a-“

A growl interrupted your taunting, a choking gasp leaving you. Without warning he thrusted into you with his hands shifting to grip your hips. Thankfully, you were thoroughly lubricated. However, you were not prepared for the burning stretch you felt as his thick member fought against your tight walls. Tears welled in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling and you were shocked to see he wasn’t even halfway in.

Trailing claws scratched down your tense thighs as his hands cupped under your knees. In one quick movement he had your knees pressed against your chest, ass lifting from the bed slightly. With this movement alone you felt him slip in just a little more, were you panting? “To think I ever planned on being gentle. You don’t want gentle, do you?” His glowing red gaze flickered as darkness flooded them. The air in the room began to tingle and prick at your skin as his filter grew heavier once again. Something that you were noticing indicated a strong surge of emotions coming from Alastor. As if what he felt was so heavy it practically oozed from him, sticking to your skin. You tried to control your breathing but he was making it difficult in more ways than one.

Tears slipped down the sides of your face as you tried to blink away the blur they caused. Trying to focus on Alastor who loomed above you like a monster. Body unnaturally large, grin spread tightly across his face and his dark eyes spun with red dials at their center. That confidence to poke the bear melted away quickly as you tugged at the tendrils around your arms. But they only responded by pressing your hands into the bed further. Your lips parted to try and frantically babble some weak reply. But any words you planned on saying were distorted into a yelp-like scream. With a sudden snap of his hips he buried his ungodly length into you, sinking to the hilt. Through bleary vision you saw the shape of him pushing up your stomach from where it reached deep inside of you. For the first time in your afterlife you thanked God you were dead, knowing well that Alastor did not intend on going easy on you.

Just as you thought, he did not give you the luxury to adjust. His claws dug into your skin where he held your legs. All you felt was the intense fullness, unaware of the small cuts his hands left as blood slowly began to drip down onto your chest. Gritting his teeth he fought against your tight hole to wrench himself out before snapping back into you. The force of it involuntarily rips a moan from you as your eyes roll back before slipping closed altogether.

Like a well trained dog your eyes snapped back open, missing their momentary rest already. Your obedience won, however, as you instantly looked up to him at the sound of your name. A sweet staticky purr rumbling from him as he spoke. “Eyes on me, Mon Cher, I want to witness your descent into madness.”

Your heart fluttered and he sucked in sharply as he felt you clench around him. How did he manage to be so alluring whilst being so demonically horrid? Perhaps that was a fault on your part and your questionable desires.

“Hm~? You like that?” His voice, the air, your body and his body on yours, everything felt heavy and hot. The heat of it all coated your skin in sweat as you felt your thoughts literally melt away into pathetic puddles. Panting, trying to will your body to grow accustomed to his size, you couldn’t do anything but look up at him with pleading eyes. “The thought of me corrupting you? Ruining you?” You felt warmth slither under your back as more tendrils worked their way to you. Pushing your lower half up from the bed completely as he contorted you. He shifted, sitting up on his knees as he buried himself deep inside you. The lifted angle had you seeing stars, swearing that he’d pierce through your womb completely.

You choked, spittle running over your lips as he rutted into you. He started a deep and focused pace. Laughing sadistically at the sounds of your choked out moans and the squelching of your cunt. Tendrils replaced the hold under your knees as they held your legs open wide for him. Talons now free to rake up your body as he enjoyed your quivering response.

“P-Please-“ you wheezed out between gasping breaths. “T-Too much-“ despite your pleas, you both felt how eagerly your walls twitched around him. Your cunt had a firm grip on him, making it difficult to even pull out for a shallow thrust. Even with the slower pace you felt that coil begin to twist in your stomach.

“What do you mean, darling? Did you not say you wanted to be stuffed?” You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold in the cry you wanted to let out. Your own hubris has come to bite you in the ass, like it often does. All you could do is whine, meekly shaking your head. “You poor little thing. Have you gone stupid already? Because despite what that mouth says- down here?” Another deep thrust rocks your whole body but he doesn’t pull back. Grinding his hips down into yours so roughly you swore your bones were bruising. “Down here is begging for the exact opposite.”

“F-Fuck- please-” Somehow he managed to grind right into your sweet spot. His breathing became ragged above you as he felt his last little bit of restraint leave him. A static hiss left him as he drew his hips back only to drive his cock roughly back in. Frantics pleas tumbled from you as you were begging for your second release.

“Say it-” his thrusts were hard and fast as he fucked into your cunt, chasing his own pleasure. “Say my name- fuck,” his filter dropped as your ears were blessed with his raw voice. At some point more and more tendrils leaked from him as they wrapped around you, their warm grip flexing with every thrust.

He had you completely bound by his tendrils, forced to be nothing but a hole for his cock. His hands were so tight on you and right now he could care less if it hurt. Alastor watched you wheeze under him as he grew frantic and sloppy with his thrusts. As one of the shadows slithered between your bodies to lovingly rub against your clit, you felt your orgasm come to its cusp. You screeched his name like a dying animal as every muscle in your body tensed. His thrusts became shallow and deep as your cunt spasmed around him. Your second rush of dopamine settled over your body in waves as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.

His hips stuttered as he panted out a laugh and brought a hand down to grab your face. Keeping your head still as he bore into your fucked-dumb eyes, watching them widen as he reached his peak with a grunt. Your legs spasmed and a deep warmth flooded your abdomen as he pumped his cum into you. Your release tipped into overstimulation as he didnt stop fucking into you even after cumming. “My sweet girl.” A long moment passed before he finally slowed his assault. Coming to a full stop once he saw your eyes fully glaze over as he knew he was losing you again. His chest rose and fell rapidly as each tendril slowly left your body, gently lowering you back onto the bed. “Youre my sweet girl, right?” He wanted to see if you were still listening.

You blinked through tears as you watched his body shrink back to its original size, albeit still large compared to you. You nodded up to him slowly and winced when he removed his claws from where they dug shallow cuts into you. His smile was soft as he slipped himself out from you. He couldn't stop his eyes snapping down to watch his seed seep from your lips.

A silence fell between you as you laid there trying to lower your heart rate. Your eyes watched him as he cleaned himself up before tending to you. His touch was much gentler on you as he scooped you up to tuck you under your blankets. As your mind began to clear you began to worry- was your deal just for one night? “Alastor?”

He hummed a response as he looked you over. He saw that familiar fear, the fear of him leaving. An amused sigh left him as he settled into the bed beside you. “Hush now, dear, you need to get some rest.” He snapped his fingers to turn the lights off before pulling you into his chest. “Afterall, I intend on sharing many more meals with you.”

You felt him bury his lips into the top of your head as your anxiety melted away. Within the dark you wore a soft smile as you let your eyes close. “I’ll hold you to that.” All you felt was comfort and warmth as you let yourself drift to sleep to the sound of Alastors heart.

————————————————————

[Tags for those who asked for PT. 2 <3: @saturn-alone @lustylita @karmakillz @saint-altruist ]

[hd-junglebook]

The Lucky Bachelor

Part 1 - Luke Hughes X Reader

Masterlist Link

a:n When you guys' finish let me know if you want a part 2. I'm a little conflicted because I feel like I can't write as good for Luke as I do Jack. Idk why when I'm literally gonna marry this man but whatever. Enjoy!!

Summary: This is their second chance at love, it had been three years since that night in Michigan, three years since they officially split for the better. With some unwanted help Luke knows he will find a way to make her love him again.

Word Count 6401

Y/n’s POV

Y/N inhaled deeply, the distinct aroma of stale coffee and the acrid scent of cleaning products assaulting her senses as she stepped into the bustling airport terminal.

The rhythmic whirring of the wheels on her carry-on luggage provided a muffled counterpoint to the cacophony of voices echoing off the high ceilings and the distant hum of aircraft engines.

As she pushed through the throng of hurried travelers, her eyes darted from sign to screen, searching for the gate information for her flight. Suddenly, the overhead intercom crackled to life, a tinny, robotic voice cutting through the din.

"Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Rome. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time." The announcement was punctuated by a sharp, piercing ding that drew the attention of those waiting nearby.

Amidst the sea of harried bodies, a familiar figure suddenly caught Y/N's eye. Clarke, the bride-to-be and her best friend since childhood, stood near the crowded check-in counter.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, the airport's harsh lighting lending an almost ethereal glow to the strands. Clarke was practically bouncing on her toes, her smile radiant with pure joy as she waved enthusiastically, beckoning Y/N over.

"Over here!" Clarke squealed, her voice carrying above the din of the busy airport. She cupped her hands around her mouth, ensuring that her words reached Y/N's ears.

For a moment, the nervousness that had been coiling in Y/N's stomach dissipated, replaced by a warm sense of affection. The nerves that had been twisting in her stomach moments ago melted away, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread through her chest.

She quickened her pace, dodging luggage and weaving through the crowd with newfound energy until she reached the circle of familiar faces.

"Sorry, excuse me," Y/N muttered apologetically as she squeezed past a family of tourists, their curious glances following her as she made her way towards her friends.

The moment Y/N stepped into the group, Clarke's eyes lit up, her face splitting into an ecstatic grin. "Y/N! You made it!" she squealed, her voice rising an octave in excitement. Without hesitation, Clarke flung her arms around Y/N, enveloping her in a tight hug that smelled earthy and green.

Y/N laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest as she returned the embrace, squeezing Clarke tightly. The two friends held each other for a moment, the chaos of the airport fading into the background as they savored the reunion.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Y/N declared, her voice filled with sincerity as she pulled back to look her best friend in the eye. "You and Damien deserve the best celebration."

At the mention of her fiancé's name, Clarke's cheeks flushed with a delicate hue, a blend of happiness and bashfulness coloring her features. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, her eyes glistening with gratitude. "It means the world to me that you're here."

Clarke took a deep breath, composing herself before turning to the rest of the group with a radiant smile. "Come say hi to everyone else," she urged, tugging Y/N's hand and leading her towards the other bridesmaids.

As Y/N greeted each of the girls with warm, enthusiastic hugs, the chatter among the group grew louder. But as her gaze swept across the familiar faces, it landed on a newcomer, a girl she had never seen before.

The stranger stood slightly apart from the rest, her fiery red hair cascading down her back in vivid, rebellious curls.

Her piercing green eyes seemed to hold a glint of something mysterious, an undercurrent of intensity that made Y/N pause for a moment, her heart skipping a beat.

Brushing off the strange, unsettling feeling that crept up her spine, Y/N approached the girl with a friendly smile etched onto her features. "Hi there," she said, extending her hand in greeting. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Y/N, Clarke's childhood friend."

The redhead's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, a guarded expression that immediately put Y/N on edge. "Anastasia," she replied, her voice smooth and measured as she grasped Y/N's outstretched hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Despite the polite exchange, Y/N couldn't shake the odd, prickling sensation that settled in the pit of her stomach. There was something about Anastasia, something indescribable, that felt off - a subtle tension that hung in the air between them, thick and suffocating.

But before Y/N could dwell on it further, Clarke appeared by their side, her face lit up with excitement, effectively shattering the moment.

"Y/N, I see you've met Anastasia," Clarke beamed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, forming a bridge between the two women. "She's a close work friend from my new job. I've been dying for you two to meet!"

Y/N forced a smile, the muscles in her face straining with the effort as she tried to push down the unease that threatened to surface. "That's great," she replied, her voice sounding a bit too chipper even to her own ears. "I'm always happy to meet Clarke's friends. As you can tell we're all thick as thieves now."

Anastasia's piercing gaze flickered between Y/N and Clarke, a flash of something indecipherable crossing her features before it was quickly replaced by a warm, almost saccharine smile.

"Clarke has told me so much about you, Y/N," she said, her tone honey-sweet and dripping with false sincerity. "I feel like I already know you."

Y/N let out a strained laugh, the sound grating against her own ears. "All good things, I hope," she joked, trying in vain to lighten the suddenly palpable tension.

Clarke giggled, her hand giving Y/N's shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of unease swirling between the two women.

…

All too quickly, the girls began navigating through the bustling airport, checking in their luggage and making their way through the winding security checkpoints, Y/N found herself easily falling back into step with their giddy chatter.

Taylor, one of Clarke's college friends, let out a giggle as she recounted her latest romantic escapade.

"Me and Travis aren't together anymore. He was too clingy," she said with a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll steal up one of the best men, huh, Clarke?"

Clarke rolled her eyes playfully, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Taylor was always like this, falling in love too quickly and falling out of it just as fast. Her romantic aspirations were as fleeting as the summer breeze, but her infectious laughter and carefree spirit made her an essential part of their tight-knit group.

The conversation shifted to the upcoming bachelorette party as they made their way to the boarding gate. Clarke's eyes sparkled as she described the home they'd be staying at, her hands gesturing animatedly as she painted a vivid picture of pristine white sand and crystal-clear waters.

"I found it a couple of months ago," she explained, her voice brimming with excitement. "It's a little expensive, but I feel like this week will be worth it."

Y/N listened intently, absorbing every word as Clarke waxed poetic about the luxurious amenities and breathtaking views. She could almost feel the warm sand beneath her feet, the salty breeze caressing her skin, and the laughter of her friends echoing through the night.

The intercom crackled to life, a pleasant voice filling the air. "Attention passengers, this is the final boarding call for Flight 227 to Bali. Please make your way to Gate 12. Thank you."

The announcement sent a ripple of excitement through the group, signaling for them to gather their belongings.

The girls fell into a single file line, stepping onto the plane and entering the luxurious first-class cabin that welcomed them with plush seats and gleaming surfaces.

Just as Y/N was settling into her seat, a familiar name caught her attention, causing her heart to skip a beat. "I can't wait to see Luke," one of the girls gushed, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.

It was Anastasia.

"He's such a dreamboat, Emilia, don't you think? Have you seen his arms?" she giggled.

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine, her grip tightening on the handle of her carry-on. She glanced up, only to find Clarke’s eyes already fixed on her, a mixture of guilt and concern etched across her face before she forced a toothy smile. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She'd known this moment would come, the day she’d see Luke again. But hearing his name spoken so casually, as if he were just another guest and not the boy who had once held her heart in his hands, made it all too real.

It was Clarke who broke the eye contact first, her smile faltering. She cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "We should probably find our seats," she suggested, her voice strained.

Y/N nodded, grateful for the escape. She followed the group onto the plane, her mind reeling with thoughts of Luke and the memories they'd shared.

Once they settled into their seats, Clarke turned to Y/N, her face contorted with guilt. "I was gonna tell you," she screeched, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "Please don't be mad, Damien and Luke have gotten so close it would be rude not to invite him."

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the headrest. She couldn't blame Clarke for inviting Luke. After all, he was part of their shared history, a friend to both the bride and groom.

But the knowledge that he would be there, that she'd have to face him after all this time, sent a wave of anxiety crashing over her.

"I'm not mad, I promise," she said, the tightness in her jaw betraying her calm tone as she forced a smile. "It's just... complicated. I haven't seen him in a long time, so maybe this can be a good thing."

Clarke reached over, tentatively squeezing Y/N's hand. "I know," she murmured, her brow furrowed with concern.

"You guys are older now and have most of life figured out. Maybe you guys can be friends again? Get some closure."

Y/N nodded stiffly, her gaze trained straight ahead. The past had a way of clinging to her, of resurfacing when she least expected it. And with Luke, there was so much left unsaid, so many questions left unanswered that made her chest tighten.

Anastasia plopped down into the open seat next to her, a twist of fate that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The redhead offered her a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Looks like we'll be getting to know each other quite well on this trip," Anastasia remarked, her voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/N swallowed hard, the muscles in her neck tensing as she nodded in agreement. Little did she know, Anastasia's words held a weight that would soon become all too clear.

…

Luke’s POV

Luke stepped off the plane, the warm island breeze caressing his face and tousling his chestnut hair. The salty scent of the ocean filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and tropical flowers.

He paused for a moment, taking it all in, the exotic smells washing over him and easing the tension in his shoulders.

Adjusting the strap of his backpack, Luke scanned the crowded airport, his eyes searching for familiar faces amidst the sea of tourists and locals.

A flash of recognition caught his attention, and he spotted his friends gathered near the baggage claim, their laughter and animated conversations rising above the din of the busy terminal.

A grin spread across his face as he made his way towards them, a mixture of excitement and a touch of nerves fluttering in his chest. "Hey, guys!" he called out, his voice carrying a hint of his trademark dorky charm.

Luke was excited to see his old friends again. His friends turned to greet him, their faces lit up with genuine smiles and enthusiastic handshakes.

They fell into an easy banter, discussing the itinerary for the joint bachelor party and good-naturedly teasing the groom-to-be about his upcoming nuptials.

Luke joined in the lively conversation, laughing and joking along with the others. But even as he participated, he couldn't quite shake the twinge of apprehension that gnawed at the back of his mind.

Y/N would be here, on this very island, and the thought of seeing her again after all this time sent a shiver down his spine.

"Hey, Luke, you planning on sweeping any of the local ladies off their feet this weekend?" one of his friends, Jared, elbowed him playfully.

Luke chuckled, trying to mask the underlying tension. "Nah, man, I'm here to support the groom, not to cause any trouble."

Another friend, Ethan, piped up. "Yeah, right. Like we don't all remember how you used to be the ultimate ladies' man back in the day."

"That was a lifetime ago," Luke shrugged, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. In truth, his mind was elsewhere, still consumed by the thought of reuniting with Y/N.

He could still vividly remember the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the softness of her skin under his fingertips, and the soothing way her voice could calm his worries.

Their fairy tale romance had been cut short by the demands of his burgeoning NHL career, the distance and the pressure ultimately proving too much for their relationship to withstand.

The breakup had been painful, a raw wound that had never fully healed. In the aftermath, they had lost touch, each of them focusing on their own lives and careers, trying to move forward without the other.

Now, as Luke prepared to see Y/N again, he found himself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

Would she still be the same girl he had fallen for all those years ago? Would the connection between them still be there, simmering beneath the surface? The uncertainty only served to heighten the nervous anxiety bubbling in his chest.

…

After three hours of painful silence on the plane, they finally made It back to the ground. y/n felt like she could finally breathe again as the fresh air hit her face. She was almost too grateful to be more than a few feet away from Anastasia.

Clarke led the way to the car rental counter, all seemed well until Anastasia suddenly let out an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, it looks like there's been some kind of mix-up with our reservation," she groaned, her brow furrowed in frustration.

Clarke's eyes went wide. "What do you mean? I double-checked everything before we left!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry.

Anastasia shot Y/N a pointed look. "Well, maybe if someone hadn't been so distracted, we wouldn't be in this mess," she huffed, her tone dripping with condescension.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and confusion. "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," she protested, her hands raised in a placating gesture.

The redhead rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. Don't play innocent with me. I saw the way you were eyeing the baggage carousel, completely oblivious to everything else around you."

"Woah relax!" Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. "I was just looking around, making sure I didn't miss our luggage. There's no need to make this into a big deal, I mean what exactly is this mess-up you’re talking about."

Anastasia scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, it is a big deal when your carelessness jeopardizes our entire trip. Now we're going to have to waste time sorting this out instead of enjoying ourselves."

Clarke stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's shoulder in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Let's all just take a deep breath, okay? I'm sure we can figure this out," she said in a soothing tone, casting an apologetic glance in Y/N's direction.

Y/N felt her heart racing, she wanted nothing more than to escape the confrontation, to retreat to a quiet corner and gather her thoughts. But Anastasia's accusatory gaze kept her rooted to the spot, her pride and sense of fairness refusing to back down.

"I'm not the one who caused this problem, Anastasia," Y/N insisted, her voice laced with a hint of steel. "If you'd just calm down and let the rental agent handle it, I'm sure we can get this sorted out."

The redhead's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Y/N could have sworn she saw a spark of genuine malice in their depths. "Oh, I'm perfectly calm," Anastasia purred, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. "I'm just not going to let anyone ruin this trip for me. Especially not you."

After several tense minutes of negotiating with the rental agent, Clarke finally emerged with a set of keys, a strained smile on her face.

"Okay, everyone," she called out, waving the group over. "We got it all sorted out. Let's head to the car and get this show on the road!"

The girls filed towards the waiting vehicle, each one casting wary glances at Anastasia, who seemed to be in an especially foul mood. As Y/N reached for the handle of the front passenger door, the redhead suddenly pulled it open and slid into the seat, an triumphant smirk on her face.

Y/N froze, unsure if Anastasia was being serious. For a moment, she considered putting up a fight, asserting her rightful place in the front. But the odds already felt stacked against her, and she didn't want to risk escalating the situation further.

Letting out a resigned sigh, Y/N settled into the backseat, squeezing in next to Taylor. The brunette shot her an apologetic look, mouthing a silent "I don’t know what her deal is" as she placed a comforting hand on Y/N's arm.

…

The car pulled up to the beachfront property, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The house was stunning, a perfect blend of modern architecture and tropical charm, nestled on a secluded stretch of pristine white sand.

The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, a soothing melody that did little to calm the butterflies fluttering restlessly in her stomach.

Y/N hung back, taking a moment to gather her composure while the girls tumbled out of the car. She watched as her friends eagerly grabbed their bags from the trunk, their faces aglow with the glow of the setting sun.

The last time she had been in this paradise-like setting, she had been with Luke, their young love blossoming amidst the sun-drenched days and moonlit nights. Now, the prospect of seeing him again after all these years sent a shiver of both trepidation and longing through her.

Emilia turned and noticed Y/N lingering behind. "Y/N! Are you coming inside?" she called out, her voice brimming with excitement.

Y/N mustered a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of the turmoil she felt. "I just... need a moment."

Emilia returned the smile and nodded in understanding before disappearing through the doorway, leaving Y/N to collect her thoughts. Steeling herself, Y/N reached for her suitcase and followed the group inside.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Y/N pushed open the car door and stepped out, embracing the warm, salty breeze that swept across the secluded beachfront property.

She was the last one to leave the vehicle, her luggage trailing behind her as she crossed the threshold, the car door clicking shut softly behind her - a subtle finality that seemed to seal her fate.

The walk to the kitchen felt like an eternity, each step a battle against the nerves that she couldn’t seem to shake off. Her heart pounded in her ears, a deafening rhythm that drowned out the chatter and laughter of her friends. She forced a smile onto her face, waving to Damien and his groomsmen as she entered the room, her eyes scanning the space almost involuntarily.

And then, as if by some magnetic force, her gaze landed on Luke.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as their eyes met, their gazes locking in a moment that was both thrilling and terrifying. This was it, the moment she had both anticipated and dreaded, the chance to confront the past she had spent years trying to outrun.

He was leaning against the kitchen island, his tall frame exuding an air of effortless confidence. The years had been kind to him, sculpting his features into a breathtaking work of art. His chestnut hair was tousled, as if he had just run his fingers through it, and his eyes, those deep pools of brown that had once held her captive, sparkled with mirth as he laughed at something one of the guys had said.

He looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine shoot, a perfect specimen of masculine beauty. Y/N felt her breath hitch, her heart skipping a beat as she drank in the sight of him. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if they were still those love-struck teenagers, stealing glances at each other across a crowded classroom.

Luke's expression shifted from surprise to a tentative smile, and Y/N felt her heart flutter, the familiar pull of their connection tugging at her very soul. She took a step forward, compelled by an invisible thread that bound them together, but the sound of Anastasia's voice piercing the charged silence shattered the moment, yanking Y/N back to reality.

"Y/N! There you are," the redhead chirped, her tone sugary sweet as she sidled up to Y/N, a possessive hand resting on her arm. "We were just about to start mixing cocktails. Care to join us?" Y/N tore her gaze away.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'd love to help," Y/N managed, her voice betraying a hint of her nerves. She moved to the counter, her fingers fumbling as she tried to focus on the task at hand.

She could feel Luke's presence, even without looking at him, a palpable energy that crackled and sizzled in the space between them. It was going to be a long week, a test of her resolve and her ability to keep her heart in check.

With one last glance in Luke's direction, Y/N turned away.

…

Y/N plastered on a smile, pushing down the turmoil raging within as she joined the girls in the kitchen, their lively chatter and laughter a sharp contrast to the palpable tension coursing through her veins.

"Ah, there's our girl!" Anastasia crooned, draping a possessive arm around Y/N's shoulders and guiding her to the makeshift bar. "We were just about to start mixing some cocktails."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering towards the living room, where the groomsmen - including Luke - had gathered. She could feel his eyes on her, a pull so powerful it was as if he were a planet and she, a helpless moon in his gravitational field.

"Hey, Luke, looks like your old flame is getting her flirt on," Jared teased, elbowing the other man playfully.

Luke felt a flash of something akin to jealousy surge through him, but he quickly tamped it down, offering a casual shrug. "It's been a long time. I'm sure she's just being friendly."

Ethan chuckled, a devious grin spreading across his face. "Friendly, huh? Well, in that case, maybe one of us should go over there and help her out. You know, show her a real good time."

The group erupted in a chorus of laughter, their eyes trained on the girls as they moved around the kitchen, their movements graceful and flirtatious. She could feel the weight of their gazes, and she fought the urge to squirm under the scrutiny.

Anastasia, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the attention, her hips swaying in a way that Y/N couldn't help but find a bit over-the-top.

Y/N felt a subtle unease creep up her spine as Anastasia's flirtatious behavior escalated, the redhead's touches and innuendos growing increasingly blatant. Trying to divert Anastasia's attention, Y/N turned to the other girls, forcing a smile onto her face.

"So ladies, how are you two planning to spend tonight?" she asked, silently pleading for backup.

Taylor grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. “I plan to spend it drunk, maybe some skinny dipping on the beach.” she winked.

Clarke, ever the diplomatic peacekeeper, stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's arm. "Alright, ladies, let's not hog all the fun. I'm sure the boys are getting thirsty over there." She flashed them a playful wink, her gaze shifting to Y/N, a silent message of reassurance passing between them.

"Oh, don't worry, Clarke. I'm sure the boys can entertain themselves for a while." She cast a pointed glance towards the living room, her lips curving into a coy smile. "After all, we girls need to have a little fun of our own, don't we, Y/N?" Anastasia's smooth, saccharine voice cut through the chatter.

Y/N felt her stomach twist with discomfort, the charged undercurrent in Anastasia's words raising all sorts of warning bells in her mind. Mustering a tight-lipped smile, she nodded, her eyes silently pleading with the other girls to steer the conversation in a different direction.

…

The initial excitement of the group's arrival had settled down, and the friends naturally split off into smaller clusters, catching up and exploring the luxurious beach house.

Luke stayed in the kitchen fighting with himself on what he should do. ‘Do I go to her?’ He thought to himself. ‘Can I mend three years of silence in a week?’

Caught up in the moment, Luke found himself gravitating towards the living room without another thought, muttering a 'fuck it' as his feet moved of their own accord.

It was as if he were being drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. He paused just a few feet away, clearing his throat tentatively. She was so lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the hypnotic rhythm of the ocean, that she didn't hear his approaching footsteps until his voice broke through her reverie.

"It's good to see you again," he said, his voice low and warm.

Y/N turned, her heart leaping into her throat as she came face to face with Luke. Up close, he was even more striking, his features sharper and more defined than she remembered.

"Luke," she breathed, his name feeling both foreign and familiar on her tongue. "Yeah, it is good to see you. It's been a while."

He smiled, a lopsided grin that sent a flutter of excitement through her chest. "Two years, give or take," he said softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "You look... amazing by the way."

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck, a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical climate. "Thanks," she managed to choke out. "You look better, happier..."

There was a beat of silence as they drank in each other's presence, the weight of the years that had passed palpable between them.

Y/N's mind raced, desperately searching for the right words, the perfect way to bridge the gap that had grown. There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she longed to ask, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, trapped behind the turbulent surge of emotions.

Luke, too, seemed to be grappling with his own thoughts, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied her face, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

"I saw you play the other week, I'm happy things are working out for you," Y/N began, looking between his face and their friends running on the beach.

"You saw the game?" Luke questioned, his expression shifting to one of shock.

"I was there in person," she admitted, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Wait, what...How come you didn't say hi?" he pressed, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. "I saw you with some girls, didn't want to interrupt," she confessed, her gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

Luke let out a soft chuckle, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "So you were stalking me, huh?" he teased.

The familiar banter brought a smile to Y/N's face, the tension easing ever so slightly. "I was just watching, sugar," she murmured, the endearment slipping out before she could stop herself.

The moment the words left her lips, Y/N felt a wave of mortification wash over her. She hadn't used that name in three years, and one casual encounter with Luke had her mind instantly reverting to the intimacy of their past. Biting her lip, she averted her gaze, silently willing the ground to open up and swallow her.

Luke, however, seemed to revel in the familiar moniker, his expression softening as a hint of nostalgia flickered across his features.

"It's good to hear you say that again," he admitted quietly, his hand reaching out to gently brush against hers, a spark of electricity crackling between them at the fleeting touch.

The spell was broken by the arrival of Damien, the groom-to-be, who drunkenly stumbled onto Luke, clapping him on the back and pulled him into a boisterous conversation with the group outside.

…

Fat raindrops pelted against the windows as a rumbling clap of thunder rolled overhead. Y/N stood under the covered porch, watching in amusement as the rest of the group made a mad dash from the beach toward the houses front door.

Taylor was bringing up the rear, squealing as the downpour quickly soaked through her thin t-shirt. She reached the porch last, bangs plastered to her forehead and mascara smudged under her eyes. Shivering, she flung open the door and stumbled inside, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her.

Y/N chuckled and followed Taylor into the cozy entryway. The others were already shaking out their damp hair and peeling off soaked outer layers.

Taylor pouted as a few stray droplets rolled down her neck, then broke into a impish grin. She extended her arms out to her sides, approaching Y/N.

"Don't you dare!" Y/N warned with a laugh, backing away. Her heel caught on a throw rug and she pitched backward, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of the hard floor.

Instead, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, catching her against a firm chest. Y/N's eyes fluttered open to find Luke's concerned gaze inches from her own.

His rain-drenched curls were flattened against his forehead and rivulets of water trailed down his chiseled jawline. His chest heaved as he caught his breath from running inside to escape the downpour.

"Whoa there, you okay?" His warm breath fanned across her cheeks. Up close, Y/N caught the scent of his cologne mingling with the fresh, earthy smells of the rainstorm.

Taylor failed to smother a giggle, shaking out her wet hair like a dog. "I think someone could use a towel."

Luke kept his arm looped protectively around Y/N's waist as he shot Taylor a playful glare. "Yeah, if someone hadn't tried drenching her with a bear hug."

Y/N felt her cheeks growing warm as Luke kept his arm looped around her waist, holding her body flush against his. His taut abdomen pressed into her back, and she was hyper-aware of his warm breath fanning across her neck. Y/N forced a laugh. "Exactly, it's all your fault."

"What's with all the racket?" Damien emerged from one of the doorways, tousling his wild, disheveled hair. He smirked at the intimate way Luke was embracing Y/N. "Oh brother, would you two just screw already and get it over with!"

Y/N's eyes went wide at Damien's crude joke, but Luke just chuckled lowly. His thumb stroked an absent-minded circle into her hipbone, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You staying up for a bit?" Luke asked in a low rumble, realizing he still had Y/N enveloped in his arms. "Not tired, Lukey?" She teased back, relaxing against his solid frame.

Luke's chocolate eyes danced with amusement. "I was tired until I saw you again. I think we have some catching up to do." He flashed her a bright, lopsided smile that made her knees go weak.

…

Taking her hand, Luke led Y/N away from the others down a hallway, throwing a roguish wink over his shoulder at Damien before disappearing around the corner. She held her breath while Luke led her into the sunroom.

It was the epitome of cozy comfort - golden lamps bathed the space in a warm glow, and the large spare bed was piled high with plush blankets and pillows.

Luke started moving towards the inviting bed, but Y/N quickly arched one leg out to block his path. "Ah ah, your shirt is still drenched. You can't get on the bed like that."

He flashed her a roguish grin before grasping the hem of his t-shirt and tugging it smoothly up and over his head in one fluid motion.

Y/N's eyes widened as his toned torso and chiseled abs were revealed. He tossed the soaked shirt aside carelessly and settled onto the bed, leaving a respectable distance between them.

Y/N instantly regretted speaking up. She couldn't believe the casual, unhesitating way he had stripped off his shirt right in front of her, as if they were still intimately involved.

A flush crept up her neck as memories flooded back of when they were dating - she had been an awestruck teenager, hungrily drinking in every newly exposed inch of his body as they learned each other.

Now she was the flustered one, feeling like that bashful girl again as she took in the sight of his muscular build, the breadth of his shoulders tapering down to those abs she used to love tracing with her fingertips...

Y/N swallowed hard as Luke reclined back on the plush bed, muscles rippling underneath tanned skin. He propped himself up on one elbow, giving her an unobstructed view of his chiseled torso and abs.

"See something you like?" Luke's voice was a deep rumble, vibrating straight through Y/N. He arched one brow cockily, the corner of his lips curling into that trademark.

Heat bloomed across Y/N's cheeks as memories of their past intimacies flooded her mind. She averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure. "Don't flatter yourself."

Luke tsked, shaking his head slowly. "Now, now. No need to be shy, gorgeous." He patted the space next to him invitingly. "Why don't you come join me? We have years of catching up to do."

Y/N's pulse fluttered wildly as she wavered, torn between the warmth pooling in her belly and her lingering hurt over how things had ended with Luke. Throwing caution to the wind, she settled gingerly on the edge of the bed, back ramrod straight.

"Relax." Luke's fingertips ghosted along her arm, raising goosebumps. "You're so tense. Come here. Let me help you with that..."

His hands found her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles there with strong strokes. Y/N stifled a moan, hating how easily he could still unravel her with his touch alone. She felt him shift closer until his bare chest was a hair's breadth away, the heat radiating off him in waves.

"There, that's better," Luke purred in her ear, his mouth so close she could feel the whisper of his lips against her skin. "Now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed?"

Y/N shivered at the feel of Luke's breath fanning warmly against her neck. She forced herself to remain still, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered he made her.

"So," she began, proud that her voice came out stronger than she felt. "Where should we start?”

Y/N stifled a moan as Luke's strong hands kneaded the tense muscles of her shoulders and upper back. She cursed the traitorous shiver that rippled through her at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against her arm.

She had to gather her wits, made difficult by the intoxicating combination of his heated touch and masculine musk surrounding her. "Well, I finally moved out of that cramped apartment into an actual house back in Michigan."

"A home all to yourself?" Luke's hands stilled momentarily, drawing her gaze to the admiring look smoldering in his eyes. "I'm impressed”

His fingertips trailed scorching paths down her arms as he resettled behind her, the solid wall of his chest pressing against her back once more. Y/N bit her lip against the fresh wave of arousal cresting through her.

She pressed on, “anyway the job has been great. Challenging but great. Though I did have a boyfriend for a while in the midst of everything..."

The words had an immediate effect on Luke. His jaw tightened perceptibly and his eyes flashed dangerously, like a wolf catching the scent of a threat. "A boyfriend, huh?" His voice was low and controlled, but Y/N could hear the undercurrent of primal possessiveness.

She nodded, holding his intense gaze. "Yeah, we dated for several months after you...left."

Luke seemed to wrestle with reining in his reaction. When he spoke again, his tone was carefully measured. "I see. And what became of this...boyfriend?"

Y/N shrugged one shoulder casually, though her pulse was thundering in her ears. "It didn't work out. The passion wasn't really there, at least not on my end."

Luke tsked again, making that infuriatingly sexy sound. At that, some of the tension drained from Luke's frame and a faint smirk played across his lips. "No passion, huh? Can't relate."

His fingers trailed up the side of her neck, sending sparks ricocheting across her sensitized skin. In one smooth motion, he reached out and cupped her jawline, thumb brushing her parted lips. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he murmured, "I missed you every single day, you know."

"I want you back. However, I can have you." His calloused thumb stroked her lower lip as he inched closer, arousal darkening his eyes to a deep black. "Let me make up for lost time..."

…

Lmk what you think please! Part 2?

[lotus-pear]

LOTUSPEAR 5K DTIYS RESULT‼️‼️

ok i'm an entire month late but here are the results of this competition at last!! i would like to preface this by saying a big thank you to everyone who participated as this was my first time doing smt like this! i'm so glad it was met w so much participation and unique entries, and i genuinely cannot express enough gratitude for the ppl who submitted their version. seeing everyone's individual posts w the diverse amount of art styles and mediums was so cool and i loved each post sm!! so thank you for participating and for your support!! it really does mean the world to me!!

with that, without further ado, let me announce our winners...

FIRST PLACE: @latapadraws

I WAS ABSOLUTEY BLOWN AWAY BY NOT ONLY THE COMPOSITION BUT THE LIGHTING OF THIS PIECE. REALLY. MY JAW IS STILL ON THE FLOOR LOOKING AT IT. the warm golden and red glow like evening rays of sun is so gorgeous not to mention dazai's musing expression. hes soo beautiful in your style op he looks like he was carved from marble. so elegant and sharp.

SECOND PLACE: @thornedarrow, specifically @velaversal

bea oh my god i still get heart eyes whenever i see this. the fuchsia is so gorgeous it looks like whorls of fire and the marble effect of the background is so ethereal. the color palette and rendering in general just astounds me, i feel like i'm on another plane of existence looking at this.

THIRD PLACE: @kokoasci

koko!!!!! i'm always enamored by translucent feel of your pieces and it always looks like rose-tinted glass, i always want to break off a piece and let it melt on my tongue bc it looks so sweet and sugary. said this in the tags but the background also was incredible and dazai kind of reminded me of the mad hatter!! the coy expression, the dramatic pose, the whimsical pastel color palette, the tea spilling from the porcelain cups...100/10 for mood and storytelling

FOURTH PLACE: @sableeira

SABLEEEE OH MY GOD......LIKE WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN.......THIS WAS SUCH AN OUT OF BOX WAY TO LOOK AT THE OG PIECE.....AN ENTHRALLING INTERPRETATION. dazai being haunted by his former self, conveyed through the earthy color palette and dramatic lighting that ties the entire piece together. literally was blown away by how unique this entry was, absolutey incredible

FIFTH PLACE: @shrimpkini

shrimp i'm being so honest rn i want this as a poster and i want it hung on my wall bc my heart still stops every time i look at it. the hard light that casts dazai's entire face into shadow which highlights the red of his eye makes me rattle the bars of my cage every single time, not to mention the rimlight on his entire frame basking the piece is an eerie glow. phenomenal play of lighting. i'm swept off my feet.

[dingodad]

Ok, so this has driven me crazy for the longest time. What the fuck happened to post retcon Japsersprite? The one we know is from pre retcon, since he was on John’s planet when he brought it into the void. Nothing was ever mentioned to happen to post retcon Jaspers, so where is he. I can’t believe Hussie forgot about him, he didn’t forget about the two Nannasprites. Did post retcon Jaspersprite just not exist? Maybe he died on LOWAS when Typheus blew it up, but there is no mention of that at all. I guess only Jade or the Nanna’s would know then, but nothing is ever said about it. Also is there a way to know if the Arquius that becomes lord English is the pre or post retcon version?

i'm gunna play good cop bad cop here cus there's an answer you don't want to hear and then there's a sort of interesting consolation prize answer at the end.

the answer you don't want to hear: it doesn't matter! :P i don't think this really needs explaining but the whole point of davepeta/jasprose's ultimate self spiels is that tying yourself in knots trying to figure out who's "pre-retcon" and who's "post-retcon" is, as they say, for the birds. john is john is john. hussie didn't "forget" that there are supposed to be two jaspersprites: while a story can occasionally get away with having two Daves or two Roses because Dave and Rose have interesting things to say to themselves, the fact that homestuck has even ONE character called jaspersprite simply strains the reader's ability to give a shit. there is the room nor the need for TWO jaspersprites, of all the damnedest things.

(there can be two nannasprites because two nannasprites are funny - but if there's one thing worse than creating the same CHARACTER twice, it's telling the same JOKE twice.)

the other answer is about sprites in particular. do you know why video game graphics used to be called "sprites"? i only thought to look this up just recently: it's because, like the fairies or spirits of folklore from which they get their name, they float above the background of the game world without interacting with it directly. this should form the basis for our understanding of homestuck's kernelsprite, as well, which borrows both from folklore and from computer programming. they are of course ghosts on a literal level, with spritely undead tails and the ability to pass through walls and physical barriers like they weren't there - but the way they interact with the story itself is similarly ethereal-and-or-ephemeral.

sprites appear at the whim of the heroes to serve a very particular purpose - which, you will notice, is exactly what davepeta says they're doing when they show up in hell - but then the moment that purpose is complete they might as well stop existing. dave- and jadesprite show up inexplicably on the battlefield as the reckoning begins: are they killing themselves now that their purposes are complete? where are all the lususprites, anyway; did they do the same thing? erisolsprite initially seems to indicate that he's going to fuck off and possibly explode like all the other sprites who hate themselves, but then just shows up again 200 pages later later at the convenience of the trickster arc. the same is true of all the sprites presumed-dead following the events of GAME OVER, who show up as-needed in the new timeline to form the next generation of redundant ghost freaks. this is simply how sprites operate. whether they're "alive" or "dead" at any given moment is the wrong way of looking at it - they're ghosts for goodness' sake!!

the fact that the story never tells us what happened to "that other jaspersprite" is supposed to make us think less about it, not more, because knowing where one of them is - the "ultimate" one, in fact - should be enough to put our minds at ease. but it also deliberately leaves the door open for another jaspersprite to show up if the story ever somehow, against all odds, finds a place to squeeze one in. which is again exactly what the plot point is currently doing with sprites like erisol, who for all intents and purposes was dead up until the moment page 666 started

[tokyo-debunker-idk]

A Song of Ice and Aneurysm | 01

Summary: Jin Kamurai might be feared and respected as the wintery King of Frostheim, but even he is no match for a cursed honor student denser than any iceberg known to mankind.

Pairing: Kamurai Jin x Reader

Genre: Humor, romantic comedy, fluff, Jin struggling to emote, eventual smut, COMPLETE

18+, minors DNI

~~~~~

Jin: You better have a good fucking explanation, peasant

You gulp when you read the text sent by Frostheim’s haughty, commanding, somewhat terrifying Captain. It's barely been an hour since you've returned to solid ground from the terrifying foray into the sea, and part of you wants to dive right back in to avoid whatever confrontation Jin is expecting. You should have known that with your horrendous luck, something would go wrong during your mission with the Jabberwock ghouls.

Being taken to an illusory sunken ship in the guise of an undersea palace on the back of a talking turtle that ended up being progeny of a terrifying anomaly probably wouldn't have been your first guess, but being MIA for an unfortunate amount of time shouldn't have been outside the realm of expectation.

And, given the trend of everything in your life going atrociously, perhaps you should have considered the consequences of asking the Captain of the most prestigious house in Darkwick for such a huge favor, on such short notice.

Not only had he agreed and provided you with a boat (yacht, nearly) with only a day of turn-around time, but he had even staffed the craft with employees that had likely panicked upon your disappearance beneath the waves.

It wasn't exactly your fault that Towa had so impulsively leapt off the literal deep end, or that a strange wave had knocked you into the water after him. But then again, none of the disasters that have happened to you have been directly your control. You could have at least tried to prepare, or figured out a way to send communications, or had some sort of contingency plan. At this point, you should know better.

But alas, you are twice (Thrice? Ten times, at this point? Too many, definitely) the fool for being caught with your metaphorical pants down again.

You know that ignoring the text or giving feeble excuses will only piss Jin off further, so with a sigh you begin trotting towards the Frostheim dormitory, dread weighing down every footstep.

Well, at least you'll get to admire his perfect cheekbones while he yells at you.

~~~~~

"Why would I give a fuck about the boat?"

For some reason, Jin looks even more pissed than when you entered, and you feel your apprehension beginning to unravel into panic. Had you fucked something else up you can't even remember? At this rate you're going to be laundering the Captain's shirts until your curse kills you.

Though then you might be able to snag a couple for sleeping. Your premeditation of possible theft is only due to the fact that the material is the most luxurious your broke ass has ever felt, and that Jin's rich enough not to notice.

It's definitely not because his cologne smells masculine and delicious. That would be creepy.

Jin heaves an exasperated sigh, and your thoughts wander back to the reason you're currently here, at his mercy. Well, what you thought that was the reason. Now you are at a loss.

As if reading your confusion, he scowls and elaborates.

"I can always find another boat. Other things aren't so easily replaced."

Agonizing seconds pass as you wrack your brain for whatever could be so important that the Jin Kamurai, corporate heir, would have trouble replacing it. And then, finally, you get it.

Your sudden comprehension must show on your face, because his own relaxes. Thank goodness, too, because while Jin is gorgeous when he's angry, he's downright ethereal when he's not.

"Oh," you breathe, giving him a smile of understanding. "Don't worry, that dress you sent me is safe and sound in my dorm!"

Considering his background and the exquisite gowns of the other Frostheim ladies at the ball, it must have been very expensive, perhaps hand-made and thus more valuable than a factory-made vessel. You can't imagine it having sentimental value to him. To you, however, the lovely dress is not only a symbol of your first completed mission, but an indicator that some here accept you. You stomp down the hopeful part of your heart that wishes it was more than just mere acceptance, because that would be too unrealistic, too greedy.

The safety of the dress also does not seem to be the cause of his ire, however, because his expression is now so blank it's actually scarier than his anger. Deathly silence stronger than any anomalous sound-proofing begins to permeate the room as the regal ghoul stares at you, and you begin to sweat in spite of the cold. Perhaps he's upset that it's still in your possession?

You immediately feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. Of course it hadn't been a gift for you to keep, but rather, a loan.

It's obvious in hindsight – he needed to show that he was still the powerful man in charge of Frostheim, and you were a conveniently neutral party he could dance with to draw more eyes.

The realization stings a little more than you thought, and not for the first time you curse yourself for developing an attraction to someone so clearly out of your league. Thank god you've never let it show, soothing your pride if not your emotions.

"I-I can return it now, if you need it back!"

Your voice cracks a little, but you're otherwise able to keep your tone stable. You're a big girl, you can take a hint. It's pointless to feel an attachment to something that was never yours to begin with.

The offer does not appear to soothe the beast before you, however, because frosty silence emanates from Jin in ominous waves. You wonder if it might have been a good idea to write your will before your mission.

"Er, of course I'd have it dry cleaned first…?"

A muscle twitches in his (very well-defined) jaw, and you begin to pray.

~~~~~

Tohma Ishibashi is having what might be the best day of his entire life.

He watches silently as the illustrious, dauntless, emotionally constipated Captain of Frostheim malfunctions in the face of guileless misunderstanding. Is it really that difficult for the man to simply tell you he was worried?

You glance backwards to meet his gaze, and your own holds so much terror at Jin's oppressive silence that Tohma clears his throat to suppress a laugh.

"I believe, Y/N," the Vice Captain interjects, regretting the need to break the magnificently suffocating atmosphere, "that our Captain means that there are certain members of our house who would have been most upset had anything happened to you."

Tohma had almost decided not to interfere, because the Jin Kamurai's wordless suffering due to his own inability to communicate is a delicious treat. But all good things must come to an end, and prolonging such an entertaining scene would only take away the sweetness of the memory.

And that bashful smile of yours, surprised and a little bit grateful at the understanding that you are important to them, is worth it all on its own.

~~~~~

Jin doesn't know who to kill first. You, Tohma, or himself.

Not only have the meaning of his words flown over your head despite him practically announcing that he's grown rather fond of you, but the twitch of Tohma's lips shows that the Vice-Captain is enjoying this situation entirely too much.

He almost forgives his second when the bespectacled asshole finally deigns to clarify the situation, because your smile is warm enough to thaw the angry chill that's coated his heart.

"Ah, I see… I'm so sorry I didn't realize," you murmur, looking contrite and a little embarrassed. That's more fucking like it.

You had fucking disappeared, into the fucking ocean where humans famously cannot breathe, where there was a monster tearing fish and other anomalies apart. You were in danger, alone but for the Jabberwock rabble, and Jin was stuck here with no idea where you were and no way to get to you.

You should be sorry for making him wonder if he'll ever see your stupid ass again.

So many social climbers are willing to read far too much into a single look, a moment of eye-contact, one mere hello. He's shown you far too much favor already, even if part of it can be written off as repayment for giving him the ability to use his stigma again.

Why the fuck would he want the dress back? Do you think he wants to fucking wear it? He got it for you, tailored to your size based on the measurements in Darkwick's records. He doesn't remember what they are because they were only important to ensure the gown suited you perfectly.

You're an idiot. An irritating mixture of meek and headstrong. Someone who will take stupid menial duties from him without (much) complaint, like a doormat, but then the same day will also investigate paranormal murder with no promise of safety other than what others can give you. You're an open book, easy to read and impossible to understand.

You have grown on him, a sneaky tumor whose cells now circulate through his veins and invade his thoughts. Do you really think that just anyone has his contact information? Or has the privilege to be allowed to call him? And on top of that, be able ask for a fucking favor without immediately being blocked?

You needed a boat, so he got you a fucking boat. A big one. If one day you need the moon, he will find a fucking rocket. And eventually, he'll catch the damn flower that cursed you.

It is ridiculous that it's taken Tohma practically spelling it out for you to realize–

"I didn't know Kaito and Luca would be so worried about me that it would impact you."

You can not be fucking serious. Something dies inside of Jin, and he thinks it might be his sanity.

"It's really sweet of them, I never thought anyone would care enough about me to notice I was gone, but still. They're adults, and they need to understand the reality of my situation and their own responsibilities."

First, he's going to murder you for being this fucking stupid. Then, he is going to off the first-year brats because you think they're sweet. Next on the list will be Tohma, who has just let out what, from any less refined individual, would be classified as a snort.

And then he's going to kill every fucker at Jabberwock for putting you in danger in the first place.

"Shut the fuck up."

~~~~~

This is not going well.

In fact, if you were still on the boat Jin apparently does not care about, you would say it is currently sinking. And, true to form, you have no lifeboats prepared.

"Get out."

Ah, but one has been fortuitously offered to you, and with immense relief you turn to escape.

"Not you. Him."

You knew it was too good to be true, yet you still give Tohma a pleading glance as he bows gracefully. He meets your eyes with a calm smile. Then, like the cold bastard he is, leaves you to your doom without a backwards glance.

The heavy doors close behind him with an ominous thud, and you eye Jin nervously. His threats from your first meeting echo in your head like an alarm.

"My room has anomalous soundproofing. You can scream and cry all you like. No one's gonna hear you."

Oh god. You're fucked. You're so, so fucked.

"Come here."

Jin can't use his stigma without you, and yet you find yourself obeying, his commanding tone impossible to resist. Your legs move until you're standing before him.

Even though he is lounging on his luxurious couch and you're on your feet, he still manages to look down on you. His icy blue eyes pierce into your own, and despite the nervous thrum of your chest alerting you to danger, you're unable to look away. You've never been able to stare back at him so blatantly.

Somehow, the longer you look, the more beautiful he becomes.

You're close enough to catch hints of his cologne, and it clouds your senses as if beckoning you forward. You dazedly wonder if you should be admiring your potential murderer. But it's not your fault that he has such full lips, or beautiful silvery hair that looks perfect for running your fingers through.

It's not fair for that to be all you can think about when you're this close to evisceration.

"You're a fucking idiot."

His blunt words slice through the confused haze in your mind, and indignation restores your self-awareness.

"Excuse me? That is so ru–eep!"

He grabs your wrist to tug you closer, and you let out an embarrassingly inelegant noise as you lose your balance. And perhaps your grasp on reality, because you have somehow tumbled into Jin Kamurai's lap, practically straddling him.

No, you've definitely lost your sanity, because instead of pushing you away or lopping off your head for your transgression, your body seems to believe that one of his hands is resting on your hip, and the other is brushing hair out of your face. Perhaps you have already died, and this is actually heaven. You must have done enough good in the world to outweigh all the tampons you flushed down the toilet in the past.

Jin's thumb trails gently over your cheek, and you automatically lean into his warmth. He's normally so harsh with his words, aloof in a way that shuts others out with thick walls of ice. Yet that hidden, secret side of him is evident in the softness of his touch.

"J-Jin," your voice quivers, a whisper because for some reason it feels like you shouldn't speak any louder. If against all odds, this actually is reality, you don't want to break whatever spell is being woven around you. You don't want this gentle moment to ever end.

There's something you don't understand in those mesmerizing eyes, and his pretty, pretty lips of his curve into what, for Jin, is a smile. It spills into your chest like sunlight through the clouds, and for a moment you wonder why you were ever scared.

"Bianerus."

~~~~~

Part 2

[loveephia]

:¨ ·.· ¨: ハイキュー!! some of the inarizaki boys seeing you in a . . .

`· . ꔫ . . . princess dress for their school festival's play. (atsumu, osamu, suna, and kita.)

⚠ warning/s: none.

ATSUMU MIYA

- you were in the dressing room getting ready while atsumu was pacing around outside

- HE REALLY WANTED TO SEE YOU

- the door FINALLY opened, and there you were

- atsumu literally gasped

- you were radiant

- "hey princess, you in need of a knight in shinin' armor?" he gives you his infamous smirk

- that's funny because he got the role of the knight

- "don't even start with me, 'tsumu." you reply

- during the entire play, he had to improvise most of his lines because they kept slipping out of his mind every time his eyes fell on you

- literally, no matter how many times he's looked at you, HE STILL FORGETS

OSAMU MIYA

- you look and felt just like an actual princess

- osamu also felt intimidated by your elegance LOL

- "y/n, is that really you?" he jokes, trying desperately to hide his disbelief

- you punch his side.

- unlike his twin, he wasn't cast in the play (because he didn't audition), so he was working on the backstage effects instead

- and it just so happens that he was in control of the lights

- so, you know, the spotlight was on YOU the entire play.

- EVEN WHEN YOU WEREN'T SPEAKING OR IF THERE WAS A SOLILOQUY GOING ON, HE WOULDN'T STOPPP

- he eventually got scolded by his schoolmates backstage for the unwanted favoritism, but hey, could you really blame him??

SUNA RINTARŌ

- when he saw you, he audibly said a cute & small "woah"

- he has candid pictures. a lot of them.

- even sets his favorite one as his background (it's of you looking flustered with a rose in one hand)

- "tarō, did you really have to take so many pictures?" you ask

- he only shrugs, "who knows when i'll be able to see you like this again."

- he doesn't know if it's just him or the lighting, but your eyes looked twice as sparkly than it did a while ago

- you were just glowing

KITA SHINSUKE

- of course, we can't forget the actual prince to the princess

- his reaction was the most low-key from all of the boys

- though his round cheeks were tinted a nice shade of red

- "..how do i look, shin?" you ask, worried

- and every single adjective had run through kita's mind like sonic on multiple power-ups

- he settles on, "ethereal." feeling breathless

- "you're on in a few minutes, you two." the backstage manager says, leaving you alone with kita

- kita raises your palm to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand, "let's go."

- man, if the makeup team had forgotten to add your blush, then they definitely wouldn't need to worry now

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[v3nusstardust]

🤍”Somethin’ stupid”🤍

Pairing : BF!Niki Nishimura x DEPRESSEDreader! (Real) 🎀

Genre : fluff <3 sad af tho idfk what the genre is

WARNINGS : mentions of self harm, depression, anxiety

A/N : SRRY I usually post like once a week and I forgot to this week I think… Idrk I literally have a fucking concussion rn💀 happened bcs lowkey thought I was in a music video and did cartwheels in my room at 3 am and smacked the shit out of my head and then hit my head on the floor and woke up seeing Gojo Satoru shakin ass 💀😜 anyway enjoy yawl😳

•

•

In the car with your boyfriend Niki, heading to the movie theater, the atmosphere was perfect –soft music, and a feeling that made life worthwhile. It had been a month since you’d seen him. These small moments you had with Niki made your life worth living. Most of the time he was busy or away for his idol duties and you’d miss him so badly. You would wonder if him being away for so long would end up with you both breaking up or you both falling out of love. The thought always made you feel nauseous and overwhelmed. Your overthinking would get the best of you sometimes, and you would result to self harm. Niki had no idea though and you never planned on telling him.

"Y/n, you might want to ditch the hoodie; it's getting pretty warm in here. You're sweating," your boyfriend chuckled, casting a glance your way. "No kidding, it's hot as hell." You sighed wiping your forehead with your sleeve. As you started to pull down the zipper your hoodie, the memories of your scars made you hesitate. “Actually I’m fine. I can handle it.” You reassured Niki. “Huh? Don’t risk a heat stroke, take it off,” he insisted, concern etching his face. “No I’m literally gonna be fine trust me.” You countered, zipping your hoodie back up quickly. “Y/n. It’s the middle of summer and you’re wearing a hoodie darling. You might wanna take it off.” Niki suggested, a puzzled look was painted on his face. “I’m gonna be alright trust me.” You gave Niki a sweet smile, trying to look unsuspicious. “Whatever you say Y/n.” Your boyfriend sighed.

You and Niki finally arrived at the movie theater. You checked in, got tickets, got snacks and headed to your movie. The air-conditioned theater promised relief from the summer heat, but your hoodie remained a steadfast companion.

Inside the cool, dimly lit theater, you found your seats, the contrast between the chilly air and your hoodie creating a cozy bubble. The movie previews flickered on the screen, and the scent of buttered popcorn filled the air.

Niki leaned over and whispered, "Are you sure you won't overheat in there?..”

“It’s cool in here Niki! I’m fine.” You softly giggled. The movie began, and you got so into it that the hoodie wasn't on your mind anymore. The plot grabbed your attention, and the cozy warmth just blended into the background.

Midway through the movie, Niki gently reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your initial reaction was surprise; you were aware of Niki's habit for tracing his fingers along your palms and wrists. Softly pushing his hand away, you met his gaze. He looked absolutely ethereal in the dim theater lighting.

"Do you not want to hold hands?" Niki whispered, pouting with a hint of sadness.

"I do, just... not right now," you replied. Niki's worried expression prompted him to ask, "Is there something wrong?"

You hesitated before responding, "No, no, I just... don't worry about it."

Your words, though intended to reassure, unintentionally stabbed at Niki's heart. His love for you was profound, and while he knew he could be clingy, he never imagined it could "annoy you." The worry in his eyes lingered as the movie played on.

You both went back to the apartment after the movie. The car ride was quiet because you pretended to be asleep, avoiding a talk about why you didn't hold hands. Niki spent the entire ride overthinking what he might have done wrong.

“Niki. I’m gonna go take a shower.” You said, walking off to your room to get your clothes. “Oh okay. I’ll make you some tea for when you get out.” He replied.

When you stepped in the shower, the warm water stung your fresh cuts. You held your wrists and winced in pain, small tears ran down your cheeks. Staring at your wrists, you wondered how you could be so stupid. You regret doing it , because now Niki might see them. The thought made you softly cry. Thank God the shower water was loud enough to cover up your soft muttering and sighs.

After your shower, you returned to the kitchen. Niki was busy cooking dinner and brewing tea for both of you, a delightful surprise that warmed your heart. Soft music played from his speaker next to the stove.

Curious, you asked, "What are you making?" Sitting at the table, he chuckled and replied, "Pasta, I’m trying out new things." The song changed to your favorite, "Somethin’ Stupid” by Frank Sinatra. Excitedly, you exclaimed, "Niki, you added my favorite song to your playlist!"

With a smile, he admitted, "I really like this song. Isn't it your favorite?" You giggled, "Duh! I play it all the time in your car." Niki turned off the stove and approached you. "Is the food ready?" you inquired. "Not yet, but how about we dance?" he suggested, extending his hand with a gentle smile, eyes filled with admiration.

In the soft glow of the dim kitchen light, you and Niki began to slow dance. The soothing melody of the song filled the air as he held you close. The ambiance was warm, and the subtle scent of dinner in the making lingered.

Niki led with gentle grace, swaying to the music with you in a tranquil dance. The rhythmic steps mirrored the easy connection between you two, the worries of the day fading away in the embrace of the moment. His hand rested on the small of your back, fingers delicately entwined with yours. As you swayed together, his other hand found its place on your waist, the closeness allowing you to feel the comforting warmth of his touch. The subtle aroma of the cooking dinner heightened the sensory experience.

Niki's gaze, brimming with stars and admiration, locked onto yours as he gently took your hand in his. However, reality snapped you back, and a sudden fear of him discovering your self infliction made you pull away. You pulled your hand away from his gently. Niki stopped dancing with you, his eyes locked onto yours with concern. "I'm sorry for asking, but why don't you want me to hold your hand?" he inquired.

A tremor ran through you, fear intensifying. Taking a deep breath, you hesitated before admitting, "I... I just," struggling to find the right words. The fear of Niki discovering your scars weighed heavy on your mind.

After a moment, you decided to face it. "Actually, you know what? Hold hands with me," you said, mustering a smile and intertwining your fingers with his. It was a fleeting decision, hoping that the dance would end before he’d notice. He brought a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Your hair smells good.” He nestled his nose into your hair. The song made the moment vulnerable. You found yourself forgetting about all your worries once again. He brought his lips to your wrist, you didn’t even catch it either. You were too busy humming the melody of the song into his chest. Niki pressed his lips to your wrist. He quickly pulled back and examined if, squinting his eyes. You suddenly realized what he was doing. You pulled away from his arms and held your wrist. His face looked indescribable. Worried, sad, confused all at the same time. The song had stopped already, and the room fell silent. "Y/n," Niki uttered softly, his voice carrying a mixture of concern and care. Before he could say more, your lips began to quiver, and tears welled up in your lashes. A gentle cascade of tears spilled from your eyes.

Niki, swift in his response, hurried over and enveloped you in a warm embrace. His chin rested on your head, and his hand traced soothing circles on your back. Anxiety gripped you like a constricting fog, the weight on your chest almost suffocating. Tears stained Niki's once-white shirt, but he paid it no mind.

"It's okay. I'm not upset," he reassured, planting a tender kiss on the top of your head. "My poor, beautiful girl. When did you do that?" he asked, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. Your hyperventilating made it challenging to speak, rendering you silent in the vulnerability of the moment.

Your hyperventilation began to subside, allowing you to regain some composure. "I..was just.. overthinking," you finally managed to admit, your voice still shaky.

Niki's expression softened, a mixture of empathy and a determination to be there for you. “Was it because of me?” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear that lingered on your cheek.

You hesitated, the weight of your emotions pressing against your chest. "Yes?... no," you stumbled over your words, struggling to articulate the whirlwind within. "I just miss you so much when you're gone for so long. I feel so lonely again. You're... you're my only light, and the only one in my life who actually makes me happy. I can't stand it when you're away."

Niki's gaze held a depth of understanding as he gently cradled your face. "Y/n, I didn't realize. I'm here for you, always. I’ll bring you with me next time, and the next one after that. I promise my love,” he reassured. His words soothed the ache within your heart. “I’ll be back,” Niki gently pulled his body away from yours. “I’m gonna go get bandages from the bathroom. Sit down,” he kissed your cheek before leaving the room.

When Niki returned, you couldn't help but chuckle at the state of his shirt, soaked with tear and snot stains – undeniably gross. Standing in front of you, he gently took hold of both your injured wrists, his eyes carrying a mix of hurt and pain. Soft elastic bandages in hand, he began to wrap your wrists with a delicate touch.

As he worked, you noticed a subtle glisten in his eyes. His fingers traced along the palms of your wrists, a silent acknowledgment of shared pain. You looked up at him with teary eyes and saw the vulnerability in his gaze.

"Promise me you'll never do this again," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. Small tears escaped his eyes, tracing down his cheeks. Overwhelmed, you apologized, "I... I'm sorry. I promise. I'm so sorry."You rose from your chair, embracing Niki tightly, the shared pain and promise binding you together in that moment. “I love you so much darling you have no idea. To know that you’ve been hurting yourself like this.. it kills me.” He whispered softly. “I love you too, Niki.” You placed a soft kiss to his chin.

"Do you wanna finish making dinner, and then we can cuddle after?" you proposed.

As Niki's sniffles gradually subsided, a tender smile graced his face, the corners of his eyes still dampened. Niki's smile widened as he looked down at you. "Of course," he agreed, his head tilting slightly. In that gentle tilt, he closed the distance, leaning in for a long, reassuring kiss.

Together, you continued with the meal, the kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of food and music. You showed Niki more songs you liked and he added them to y’all’s new slow dancing playlist.

As you placed the finishing touches on the meal, Niki slid his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "Smells amazing in here, thank you for helping me darling.”

The conversation during dinner went smoothly. You both talked about stories of the past and dreams for the future. Niki's eyes, still holding a glimmer of tenderness, locked onto yours, reinforcing the unspoken understanding that this moment, amidst shared laughter and a table filled with love, was truly special.

Cuddling on the couch, the outside world faded away, leaving room for the intimacy of shared comfort. “You’re so pretty y/n” Niki admired your facial features. The smell of his fresh Basil and mandarin cologne brought you comfort. You threw your leg over his and snuggled closer onto him. He could feel your soft breaths on his neck. Niki peppered kisses on your temples. He was humming a gentle tune to one of your favorite songs. The moment made you realize how lucky you were to be with someone like him.

A/n : erm I literally fell asleep writing this w my hard ass fit on and makeup bruh my skin is breaking out hella someone come kill me. Srry for the amount of mistakes btw I did not read over it 🤓🤓 I raw dogged this it might be shitty Also I hope y’all liek:3 i put my whole venussy into this. Xoxo💋💋

[pondering-gales-left-orb]

when people ask "why is Mystra bland and Shar and Vlaakith are MASSIVE AND SLAYING HARD?" i want to screem

Ugh if i see that post criticizing Mystra for looking average compared to Shar or vlaakith reblogged one more time Im gonna scream fchgcg do you guys not understand the difference ?

I didn't expect to wake up today and be a Mystra defense attorney but yall need your perspective to be ripped wide open

disclaimer: this only goes as deep as the game lore the actual lore the game is based on is much more expansive and goes into detail about everything im about to quickly explain so i recommend reading it.

So first off all lets redefine your understanding of what Mystra is ,

She is magic, she is the weave, the very fabric of the weave is Mystra, when gale reached out to the purple light and said he can feel her he was not kidding he was literally holding a tiny fraction of her in his hand

All of the scenes that include the astral sea? all the flashes of magic all the outer planes scenes ? All the colors and twinkling? the setting itself? all of it is Mystra

its not made by her it IS her

when my guy Gale said we stand in the palm of Mystra he wasn't being poetic he was being literal the very fabric of the illusion he conjures is Mystra not from her but is her

(on a side note Gale is pretty much very literal in his words and what he tells you but people always brush that off as some scholarly exaggeration for some reason which is another post tbh)

What did you guys think the meaning of magic dying with Mystra's death and her having be reborn 3 times to bring it back to stability?? Its not only because she controls it but because she *is* it.

When you look at Scene that have her or the weave do not only recognize Mystra as the face you see but include the background, the lights, the colors, the magic, everything, if its hard to visualize just imagine the weave and the weave plane as an extension of her dress all of it just the fabric of her dress going on and on and on making everything around her and Gale.

like notice how Mystra physically is not in these pics but she still is because every flash of purple is a thread of her being

here when you look at her you probably only see her "human form" but expand your understanding to see her as the weave behind her the sparkles, and stars, the weave rain around her, the very floor she is standing on, the sky she is floating around in

Now onto the second point:

Why do Shar and Vlaakith present as these all powerful terrifying massive beautiful entities when needing to converse with their followers and Mystra presents as a regular woman ?

There are alot of points i can touch on that will explain there are a 100 reasons

But the main ones are Shar and Vlaakith NEED to intimidate their followers into recognizing them (in other words put the fear of god and anime into the hearts of people that look to them) because without this fear that they inspire they have no influence, they need to convince anyone that lays eyes on them that they are powerful from the very first glance, their power and influence depend on how much people fear them into submission.along side looking ethereal and menacing Shar uses pain and Vlaakith uses false godhood and rewritten gith history to achieve that . that's why they are beautiful and fearsome and massive and their temples/creche's are massive and grand Vlaakith's being on the highest mountain in the tallest building and Shar's gauntlet and house of pain being the deepest underground Structure to exist to the point that its a bit unbelievable (to the point that i had to pan with my camera outside around the mountain to see if its even plausible fhdjd) all of this is supposed to inspire absolute fear and submission into anyone that walks in makes them feel small and dominated by the goddesses power in a single instant so they can instantly gain control over them.

What about Mystra? What do we see she has in comparison?

We see Mystra only has her alter where its used for communication because that's all she needs... She doesn't need to prove her power she doesn't need to make people fear her she doesn't need submission and domination she doesn't need to be recognized because any magic wielding entity can just look into themselves and feel her threads inside of them can look around and feel her presence that's all she needs. And when she communicates with her weave users (what would be considered as her followers but not really) she needs to present an equal footing to them not a dominant one because she needs to discuss things, to reason, to convince them, not only because they are smart and powerful with or without her but because she has no say in what they do with the weave (as long as it doesn't ruin the balance) she cannot stop them or take it from them but she can persuade them to go a certain direction that's the extent of it. And that's why her alignment is neutral instead of evil even though we know she doesn't have the best actions and methods but she doesn't need to hurt people to gain power she simply... Is... And that gives her her power. (another side note this is also gale cant simply stop believing in her or abandon her worship or take of his earnings etc its not that simple as she is in the air he breathes yk)