#WHY DOES MY MIND DO THIS TO ME

[sugurouge]

— i sin too much to pray for you : togame jo x f!reader

alternatively: you asked for my heart, but i didn't know where to start

summary: on another lonely saturday night, an unexpected visitor shows up at your doorstep. amidst alcohol and regret, unresolved feelings cause for a turbulent mix of passion and heartbreak. facing the ghosts of a relationship that never fully ended

wordcount: 2.6k

content warnings! angst, smut, heartbreak, toxic relationship, praise, petnames, mentions of alcohol

a/n: never thought i would return to writing angsty filth. i also never thought i'd write it for togame, but i loved every minute of it. the weeknd's nothing compares played on repeat

Saturday. Saturdays are always such a drag. An entire day all to yourself, with barely anything to do. You already finished your assignments and chores during your loathsome Friday night. There’s hardly anyone texting or inviting you out, so what’s the point in having a day off without anything or anyone to keep you company.

You exhale a deep breath as you stare at the ceiling, the projector casting a movie to keep you occupied, while the cocktails in your bloodstream taint your vision and mind.

Reaching out to your phone, you see a message on the screen. It’s the same guy as always. He’s nice, sweet, and caring, but just… just not him.

“Hey, what are you up to tonight?” is the question blinding your eyes from the brightness of the screen. It elicits a hum from your lips as your brows furrow. What exactly are you up to?

“just watching a movie. you?” Sounds good enough to you.

Another message pops up shortly after, causing the ends of your lips to curl into a small smile. “Can I come over?” At least your night might be a bit more exciting.

It doesn’t take long before you hear the doorbell ring, indicating that your expected visitor has arrived.

You get up and fix your loose shirt, barely caring about the tease you are as your shape pushes against the fabric. Not like you'd let that bore in for anything other than a quick distraction. Your feet carry you over to the door, and you actually feel a sick sort of excitement. At least you’ll feel something again and a little bit of warmth will spread through your stoic body. 

Yet, you’re met with those charming, intensely green eyes. It’s almost like it used to be.

Togame looks up as soon as he hears the door unlock. One arm keeps him leaning against the frame while his eyes greet yours immediately. He’s confident in his memory of your height. If he knows one thing, it’s your body after all.

He’s clearly as intoxicated as you are; it shows in the way he holds eye contact instead of fleeing to his smartphone. It’s the soft smile teasing his lips and his undivided attention all directed towards you.

Yet the silence between the two of you is exactly like it used to be.

Your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, fiddling with the loose fabric as you press your soft lips into a line, your shy gaze never leaving his curious eyes.

Jo exhales a deep breath he didn’t realise he was holding as he steps over the threshold of your apartment. Deft fingers carefully glide over your arms, along your neck, before he tilts your chin up to look at him once more.

He always holds your face a little stronger than necessary, squishing your cheeks to give you the most adorable pout while he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against yours.

It’s a teasing game of catch, the way he breathes against your lips without closing the distance between entirely. Togame leaves a ghost of a kiss on the corner of your mouth and feels your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

It rewards you with a lazy smirk.

𓍯𓂃

The two of you broke up a little while ago. At some point, it just stopped working out. Old, domestic habits became a bother, rituals were abandoned, and conversations left unspoken. Something simply fell apart without further explanation why. Your friends assured you that, with time, things would be fine. Your heart would feel lighter again, and your smile would be brighter than it used to be during your relationship.

But somehow you never made it to that stage. And neither did Togame.

The emptiness inside your bodies left you growing bitter and petty. Both of you went as far as refusing to acknowledge your ex-partner if you ever met on the streets, fixing your gaze on the asphalt instead of at least greeting one another. You both forced yourself to move on to flirting with new people, going on dates—pretending to be perfectly fine. Yet sadly you could never fool yourselves.

Not when you continued to moan his name whenever another guy brought you to your orgasm. Or when Togame refused to acknowledge the girl he was balls-deep inside, instead opting to hide his face in the curve of her neck, a scowl plastered on his features and eyes squeezed shut as he imagined it to be you.

Then, how did you end up here? 

𓍯𓂃

One lonely night you called him, alcohol-confidence bringing out that little fighter in you. Apparently, your intoxicated self knew better as you slurred words of hatred towards Jo. How tired you were of his behaviour, how childish he was treating the girl he pretended to love, how he failed you. The rant was nearly endless, he listened to it all while hurried steps brought him over to your apartment. Only the repetitive knocking on your door and his order to open forced you to stop.

And once he was finally standing in front of you, there was no fire left inside your body. Instead, water took over, tears you held back for weeks running free once he embraced you. Hugs turned into kisses, and kisses turned into demanding touches. Clothes were ripped off along the way to your bedroom, marks of his love painted on your skin. It became a habit. A toxic habit to call his name like he was still yours, but resume to ignoring each other in broad daylight.

𓍯𓂃

Tired of his teasing, you stand on your toes, your eyes staring into his challenging gaze before your lips finally meet his.

Togame kisses you like a man starved, hovering above you like he wants to squish you, his own chest pressed against yours as if he didn’t tease you before. He knows his way around the apartment, knows how to guide your body while continuing to push his tongue between your lips. Past the hallway and your roomie’s door, the living room, until you finally arrive at your own little haven.

You’re pushed against the closed door, a warm hand resting on the back of your neck while the other teases your outer thigh, effectively stealing a soft whimper between your shared kisses. Your smaller hands clutch onto his broad shoulders, desperate to keep him as close as possible. Togame withdraws his touch as he feels your need increase and immediately twists the door knob, causing your bodies to almost tumble inside your room.

He’s swift to rid himself of his shirt, jacket long abandoned in the hallway, to bless your hungry eyes with his broad built. Don’t stare at him too long or you’ll drool. 

At this point it becomes muscle memory: The moment Togame approaches you, your arms wrap around his neck like they always did as he picks you up to carry you over to your bed. He lays you down right next to the plushie he got you—the stupid bunny he won for you during a summer festival.

His lips attach to your neck, leaving trails along your throat and collarbone before he tugs off your shirt and exposes your full figure to his advances. It’s his favourite body in the entire world—only covered by panties now. Those awfully cute pink panties. He bites his inner cheek as he hungrily eyes your curves, a different warmth now heating up your figure as big hands roam delicately along your body. Following the shape of your chest, rib cage, and waist, and digging into your hips to pull you closer to his growing erection.

The feeling of your body against his makes his breath hitch slightly, yet he never stops planting wet kisses along your breasts. His moans are drowned by your soft skin before his hot tongue plays with your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive area until you become a mess of whimpers, nimble fingers tugging at his roots like you always did when he gave you too much.

Togame’s kisses lead further down, one love mark after another running from your collarbone down to your sternum. You arch against him, your hips gently moving to feel his growing cock, cheekily applying further pressure on your pulsing slit until you can’t keep up with this teasing any longer. “Jo, please no more teasing, I need you in me,” you whimper beautifully against his dark hair.

You were always the one to say what was going on in his mind whenever he struggled to voice his thoughts. Just like now. How could he not oblige.

Togame refocuses his attention to your face, breathing you in with an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue easily winning dominance over yours while your nails run over his back, tickling his sides and exploring his abdomen to finally unbutton his trousers.

Yet you can’t shrug off the feeling of the unusual atmosphere that night. Togame doesn’t let you push him back, doesn’t let you take control but opts to undress you and him entirely. The familiar, playful game your intimacy once was is completely replaced by providing you with pure bliss.

Deep thrusts inside your fluttering walls reward Togame with praises to his name, your hands resting on his back with your delicate fingers digging crescent shapes into his muscles as he continues to pound into you without ever breaking eye contact. Your bodies have rarely been so much in sync as they are in this very moment. It’s frightening how he leans into your touches, how your moans complete each other’s shaky exhale and his eyes fill with a pained expression.

Togame’s brows furrow deeply as he dips down and lays his lips atop yours, swallowing the waves of your orgasm as he paints your walls white and grips tightly onto your bedsheets.

Nothing compares to the emptiness you both share.

He holds your body close, arms wrapped around your exhausted figure tightly as he whispers sweet nothings into the crown of your hair. The sounds of your soft breathing turn his heart mellow. His teeth bite into the inside of his lips, dragging along the flesh and digging deep as he refuses to accept he is about to cry. He guards your sleeping figure, soaks in the affection you show him while dreaming about sweeter things. Your calm expression makes you almost appear angelic, and how cute you are once you nuzzle closer against his body as he teases you with a cool blow of air.

Only a kiss to your forehead takes the soft smile off his lips a moment before he unwillingly exits your apartment. Attempting to finally make you let go of him, to have you move on and to move on himself as the unsettling feeling of the dead ‘us’ spreads inside his body.

Leaving you to wake up alone again. His cologne still lingers on your bed sheets, causing your half-asleep body to further hide beneath your pillows and blankets—drowning your sorrows and thoughts in the final remains of his comfort as you try to drift off to sleep like you did so many mornings when you let him back in.

𓍯𓂃

Your meetups ended after that night. Neither of you contacted the other person again. Your chat got pushed down by conversations with other people, and you never touched a drink ever again. Instead, you faced your dull life, going from your daily obligations to the library, a café or bookstore until you eventually bumped into one guy one too many times, you couldn’t help but accept his advances.

Which brings you to sharing a piece of cake with him in your favourite café. The hot tea warmths you with its deep aroma while you finally enjoy the way this new promise of love enriches your life.

Until the little bell of the doorway chimes. It tears your attention away from the man in front over to the tall guy entering the shop. His eyes meet yours in an instant, as if he is searching for you. Well, Togame is always looking for you wherever he goes, but doesn’t really expect to find you.

Yet here you are, in all your glory, sharing a table with that literature guy he saw around the streets more often than he likes to admit. It’s a macabre joke how fate only allows him to meet you once you’re on a date. Togame curses the universe as he tries to appear nonchalant, approaching the counter to order himself a hot tea to fight the cold autumn winds.

The repetitive chants of his inner voice try to remind him of his motives for coming to the café, grab a drink, head back out. Yet they are drowned by the view of your hand coming up to rest on another man’s arm. He can almost hear your sweet laugh ringing through his ears as his lips press into a thin line. But this is what he wanted.

Yes, he brought so much struggle into your life, he can’t allow himself to be jealous. Not now. He hurt you more often than he made you happy. And by now he can admit that you stopped being his priority. But gods, does it hurt to see you with someone else.

The voice of the barista falls on deaf ears. Togame struggles to breathe calmly as the air gets stuck in his constricting throat. He’s suffocating on his feelings, his eyes burning in their sockets. The repressed emotions he held inside threaten to spill in public, in front of twenty other people in the café—in front of you and your date.

“Excuse me!” The stern voice of the barista jolts his attention forward.

He mumbles apologies and hurriedly places the money on the counter, grabbing his order and fleeing out of the shop. His signature glasses a desperate measure to hide his faltering facade, eyes locked on the grey asphalt of the cold streets.

Moving on was exactly what he wished for you, wasn’t it? That’s why he said goodbye to you in the most comforting way he could come up with. He’s not the guy destined to make you happy. Not the best version of a human to pretend to have a claim on you. But it’s the mellow ring of his name falling from the lips he misses most that causes the tears to spill from his eyes.

When has Togame ever shown emotions like this? Crying like a little kid? Laughing from the top of his lungs? Yeah, that’s not really his style. It catches him off guard, making him feel pathetic, lost, and overwhelmed.

Nobody cares like you do. The expression you’re met with as soon as you catch up to him mirrors the pain inside your heart. Your face softens as you see the tears roll down his cheeks, his alluring eyes glazed with a layer of pain.

“Jo…” you whisper, afraid your own voice might fail you if you were to raise it.

You stand on your toes—like you always have when he struggled to close the distance between your bodies. Your arms snake around his neck to draw him further in and allow yourself to hide in the familiar shape of his neck. The rapid speed of his heart pulses against yours while he tries, again and again, to swallow the lump in his throat before his arms engulf you tightly, surrendering himself to you and his emotions as his fingers dig into your coat.

Togame decides at that very moment that he won’t ever let go of you again.

Until your little voice tears his heart right out of his chest. “I’m sorry, Jo, but… I’ve got to let you go. I just wanted to say thank you—” Your sniffs force you to stop talking for a moment, and he wishes he heard wrong. “Thank you for trying to love me.” This is your last farewell to the first man in your life.

A soft peck on his cheek seals his fate before he watches your retreating figure walk off with another man.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[theizzizzy]

ok but why does one remind me of the other?

[clonegirlie]

My mind just reminded me that right now Hunter and Omega are not spending the holidays together and I cannot stand that thought

So I’ve decided that from now in my mind they are reunited and having a great time all of them together and Crosshair is pretending he hates everything of this but secretly loves it

[xxplastic-cubexx]

[right to left]

STILL thinking about drunk chess actually

stupid as hell bonus:

[mylifeingotham]

[triangular-static]

look i understand if people just don't like the idea of billford, i think we have a different internal concept of what shipping means (they're not good for each other at all but i need to dissect their dynamic like a bug. you understand. it's fun) but it's fine to avoid things you don't like, good for you genuinely

however people saying they like. don't see it. like. i'm not saying there's no platonic way to read it, i'm aroace spec myself i'm all for reading things in different ways. but i do think saying they weren't partners in any queer sense at all is trying too hard to go against what the narrative is trying to say, or missing it. somehow

anyway media literacy time if a character makes a joke like this

and the previous context of that joke within the show is that it's about an ex wife. what connection do you think the text is trying to get you to make.

and that's just from a writing point of view. not even noting that from an in universe perspective ford likely knows the joke from the same source as stan. and is therefore. placing himself in that role of the joke are you seeing where i'm coming from

(not to mention bill's side of this text which is. extremely manipulative but also does not read very platonic. again, it can technically be read as platonic! bill literally can manipulate ford's feelings. but the specific wording used is very much meant to look like possessive ex partner wording whether the character means it that way or not. it's coding. look again i'm not saying it was good for them i'm just saying there was something there.)

and then there's also the divorce/break up/rock bottom input on the website. like. how else is that supposed to be read. and the corresponding page in the book itself.

the language being used here. like yes he's saying it in a joking way but then there's the other side that isn't joking which is him crying at the bar. it's the both sides (the very coded language on top of the very genuine emotions and dynamic beneath)

i know most of us are on the same page with this i've just seen a couple people saying they don't see it when this is some of the most clear cut coding i've ever seen. and these are just the things that explicitly reference a relationship off the top of my head i'm not even including the general vibes of Everything

tl;dr it's barely even subtext anymore it's all but straight up text. what's not clicking have we forgotten what coding is (lighthearted i just enjoy the phrase what's not clicking. what's not clicking)

[copias-juicebox]

scusi?? 😳🥵 x

[autisticandroids]

FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.

[youtube with closed captions]

dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.

(via @closetoyou1970)

[pepperpixel]

SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS,

BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY,

IT TAKES TWO TO TOXIC!

FINALLY!!! Finished these pics of jinx I’ve been working on!!!!! HOLY SHIT, these took so long…. But finally… they’re done… pls enjoy this art of my beautiful princess w a disorder. Featuring alternate colors for the big pic and also a closeup! Cuz I rlly like how both the lines and coloring on her face turned out… like the pink gradients w her eye… her deer in headlights expression,, like uve just startled a raccoon digging thru ur trashcan and r two seconds away from getting mauled.. m proud of it!

[blueskittlesart]

deeply refreshing to see someone critical of Swift who also like, genuinely likes her. Like i'm neutral to positive on her, but the online discourse has been absolutely rancid. flipping between "Taylor Swift has never done anything wrong ever and she's a fucking genius" and "Taylor Swift is the worst lyricist of all time and also a bad person" is exhausting, so thank you for like. nuance or something lmao

not to make it serious for a sec but i genuinely think that being able to like things that are bad is really important. like I think that it's an important skill to be able to look at something and see what you personally enjoy about it and then take a step back and acknowledge that objectively it's flawed. and to also be able to acknowledge that liking something isn't necessarily an identity or a moral stance. and i think that fandom space in general could really benefit from more people taking the time to learn how to do that. it's okay to like things that are bad

[whilomm]

note: pollmaker is thinking of the USAmerican lottery system (powerball, mega millions, state lottos, scratchoffs, etc), but poll applies to other countries lotteries systems so long as its still the same concept of "big ol state sponsered gambling shit", but not like casino style gambling. u know what i mean, Lottos.

questions for the tags: how regularly, what stuff you play, if you have limits for yourself, if you feel like its a Problem for you, and for funsies the usual 'first thing youd do if you won the lottery' shit

reblog to have absolutely zero effect on your luck either way. just like, absolutely no change in luck whether you reblog this or scroll past. this is the luck neutral post reblog in the next 30 seconds or dont who give a shit

[swedenis-h]

Phoenix Tatooine day trip Goes Wrong™️ (X)

This is a little idea where Luke needs something (don’t ask me what) that he can only get on tatooine, so dinluke adventure ensues. The plan is to get there and leave ASAP, but then nostalgia hits and he needs to hit every shop and place he used to as a kid. But you know, “college kids comes back to hometown” syndrome hits and he realizes he’s changed too much. Think of how the holiday season doesn’t feel the same anymore now that you’re an adult, same feeling. AND YES ITS ALSO DUNLUKE BECAUSE I WANT THEM TO KISS AND TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS AND ALSO KISS.

Heres some extras 🫡

[spaciebabie]

oh so you wanna fuck that monster huh. make sexy art of them without giving them muscles and/or making them look human

[necrotic-nephilim]

I am always thinking TimJay thoughts related to the fact that they have matching scars from getting their throats slit, and not only that, but Jason slit Tim's throat first in an attempt to threaten Bruce, where Tim was nothing more than a pawn for Jason to use to emotionally manipulate Bruce.

batman (1940) #618

And then, just a little while later when Jason is trying to confront Bruce and do his whole dramatic moment with Joker in UTRH, and Bruce slits Jason's throat to stop Jason from killing the Joker.

batman (1940) #650

It makes me so Unwell. They have literal matching scars. When do you think Jason realizes it? When do you think, while running his fingers over the scar he has to always remind himself that Bruce was willing to jeopardize Jason's own life just to save the Joker, Jason realized it was the same scar *he* gave Tim? And does it click for him too, that he and Tim are a lot alike? Being used as pawns in Bruce's game? And for the first time he maybe understands Tim Drake, just another kid trying to get Bruce's attention and approval? And Jason did to Tim exactly what Bruce did to Jason? And that's part of what spurns on Jason's obsession with Tim, trying to "save" Tim from Bruce's ideology?

When they finally get together does it make Jason even more possessive? He put that mark on Tim and now he has his own to match. It's the closest to being understood and loved he's ever felt when Tim runs his fingers over Jason's scar at the same time Jason touches Tim's. Mirrors of each other, in a fun, fucked up little way.

[wordfather]

im all for excercising my body but the minute burpees get involved im gone. id rather die of bedrot than do a single burpee again. who came up with that shit. i'll kill you.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you