#also sometimes I will Know a tip in my head and then when I draw it I have actually ignored it like the thigh length thing???

[snowballseal]

How they react to you having a lot of tattoos

LaDS X Reader

Anon Request: I was curious if you would be willing to write the boys reacting to a partner with a lot of tattoos? I feel like MC is pretty covered up and as someone with full sleeves and a large back piece, it’s always interesting to see how people react to seeing them.

Note: Y’all killing me with these fun requests 🥺 I love this. I only have a few minimalist tattoos, but I want MORE. Thank you for the lovely request, anon. The scenarios were fun to think of.

Word Count: who’s to say 🤷about 1000 each

---

Rafayel

The first time Rafayel sees your tattoos is when you go on a date to the beach. You’re not even thinking about it as you change in the bathroom. When you decided to become a hunter, you knew you would have to cover up your tattoos. The policy, while being outdated in your mind, isn’t all that bothersome since you prefer to wear long sleeves anyways.

So it never occurred to you that Rafayel had never seen the full expanse of the ink on your body.

Which is why, when you step out and his eyes go impossibly wide as he looks at you, mouth dropping open, you’re first and foremost confused.

“What?” 

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel an inkling of insecurity curl in your chest as you look down at your two-piece. It’s nothing immodest, just a blue bikini that you thought was cute and also met your standards for support. It’s a little frilly, but a part of you thought he’d love that. 

“Do you not like it? I don’t uh, I don’t have anything else to wear…” Your voice comes out uncharacteristically meek.

That seems to snap Rafayel out of his daze. The artist shakes his head, the tips of his ears going positively red, as he still can’t rip his eyes from the lines decorating your skin. He reaches out, tracing the gentle petals of a flower on your waist.

“How come you’ve never shown me these, cutie?” He asks, voice touched with awe.

Oh. Heat creeps up your neck. So that’s what he was on about. You glance down at your body. You suppose it is a little jarring. It’s not like you’re covered head to toe, but you’re definitely a well covered canvas. Both of your arms have partial sleeves that curl up around your shoulders and continue along your collarbone. A large collection of flowers adorns the right side of your waist, traveling down your hip and turning into a pattern of vines down your leg. You have a few other ones, some silly, some heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes I forget I have them,” you admit a bit bashfully. Rafayel gives a low hum and your breath catches as his fingers continue to trace the lines on your waist, his touch warm and ticklish. “I’ve had some of them since before I started training.”

“I have to say, I’m a bit jealous that another artist has touched your body,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something low. His hand slips around your waist, drawing you closer so he can trace his lips over the intricate ink on your collar bone, ocean eyes glinting up at you with something possessive yet overflowing with adoration. “But even I have to admit this is beautiful work. Befitting my queen.”

Your cheeks go warm. As red at the tips of his ears. There’s something so reverent about his touch and it makes your heart flutter wildly, but you’re all too keenly aware that you’re still in public.

Not that it stops you from poking the fish.

“Would it make you feel better to know my newest one is for you?” You ask, reaching to touch his cheek with a teasing smile.

Rafayel’s face lights up. He draws back immediately, looking over your tattoos like an eager child until he spots the fresher ink on your left leg. You stifle a giggle as he drops to his knees, fingers curling around your ankle to pull your leg off the ground so he can get a better look. 

“Rafayel!” You bark out a laugh, balance stolen away. It forces you to lean on him just so you don’t fall over. “Geez, I could have just sat down, you know!”

“This is for me?” Rafayel, oblivious to your complaints, grazes his fingertips tenderly along your skin.

Shaking your head, you give his hair a playful fuss, “Yes, you impatient fish. It’s not done yet, but it’s about us.”

It’s the beginnings of an ocean scene. A beach circles right above your ankle, depicting the silhouettes of two younger kids, their hands clasped in a promise. As the ink continues up your leg, it transforms into what looks like a night sky, but instead it’s water, swirling lines of blue and purple, full of schooling fish, one in particular standing out, bright red among the cool tones. A familiar symbol. And on the back of your calf swims a graceful looking figure, reaching for the light, edges blurred between fish and man and water.

A lump forms in Rafayel’s throat as he touches the red fish, a familiar warmths spreading across his chest as the same symbol glows faintly. Seeing it on you fills him with an emotion he can’t quite explain.

“You do realize what this means, right?” Those ocean eyes flicker up to you. They glint like dark pearls, iridescent and beautiful, yet carry a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch.

“I do,” you answer unwaveringly.

Rafayel’s lips pull into a small smile. He never expected someone to do something like this for him. Though, of course you would. And it’s beautiful.

“It’s a stunning piece,” he murmurs eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your knee, right above the ink, his hair tickling your thigh, “Though I still think the canvas is the most beautiful thing of all.”

A snort escapes you and you bite your lip, heat rushing back to your cheeks, “You’re ridiculously corny, Rafayel.”

“I know.” His smile shifts into a wolfish grin as he stands up, scooping you into a hug. You squeal as he spins you around, holding on tightly despite knowing he’d never drop you. It’s only when you’re positively red that he stops, his mirthful eyes watching your face. “It’s worth it if I get to see this face. I swear, cutie, if you do more things like this, I might become unbearable.”

“You never could,” you giggle and loop your arms around his neck, “Though, I was thinking maybe next time, you could come with me?”

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, “Oh? You want to get matching tattoos? I’ll admit, I’ve never considered it…but if it’s with you, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

“You’ll have to design it, of course,” you hum, tone turning a little more excited, “Oh, I can’t wait! It’ll be so fun! We can do it the next time I take a break, and after swimming season, obviously.”

Leaning in, Rafayel gives you a short kiss, laughing against your lips, “Anything you want, my lady. As long as it’s with you, I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

---

Zayne

The first time Zayne sees your tattoos is when you reunite at Akso. You’re not sure how long it’s been, having only seen him every so often at Grandma Josephine’s for dinner. All you know is that he’s been busy, and is now one of the most remarkable young doctors in Linkon.

And also your new primary care physician.

“Knock knock.” 

You rasp your knuckles lightly against the door to his office, eyes lingering on the nameplate displayed prominently beside it. A strange sense of pride swells in your chest. To think, your childhood best friend would reach such heights.

“Come in,” Zayne calls, voice as aloof as ever.

You slip into his office and let the door shut behind you. The doctor sits at his desk, flicking through a file on his tablet. You hesitate on the edge of his peripherals, not sure exactly what to do or how to act. It’s been a long time since you two have been truly close, not since- But you’ve missed him.

A lot.

“My apologies, my previous surgery ran longer than expected so I am still collecting your records.” You blink, his voice drawing you back out of your thoughts. “You may take a seat if you’d like.”

“Okay.”

Maybe you’re the only one who feels weird about it. He seems completely unaffected, like you’re a normal patient, ever the professional. You awkwardly drag a stool a little closer to his desk, just far enough to not seem weird and so it doesn’t feel like you’re looking over his shoulder.

After the silence goes a tick too long, you can’t help but break it, fingers fiddling nervously with your sweater, “How have you been, Doctor Zayne?”

A faint smile ghosts across his lips. You haven’t changed one bit. 

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking. Work has become quite constant, so I’m afraid I haven’t been able to accept many of Josephine’s dinner invitations.” His eyes dart over to you briefly before focusing back on his screen. “You look like you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other.”

“I have,” you chirp, anxiety easing up a bit, “I’m really close to being finished with training and finally joining the Hunters Association. You should try to make it to dinner this week though! Grandma really misses you. She talks about you all the time.” You falter, cheeks warming a little. “...We’re all really proud of you, Zayne.”

Zayne’s fingers freeze against the tablet. An indecipherable look crosses his face, but he schools his features quickly and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you…you both have always been so kind to me,” he murmurs and finally turns to face you, “I’ll try my best to make it to dinner this week.”

Your face lights up, excitement sparking in your eyes. “Okay! I’ll let her know! She’ll probably make all your favorites. They haven’t changed, right?”

Zayne shakes his head, and you can’t help but kick your feet giddily. It’ll be nice to catch up. You have so many questions, and also so many stories to tell from your training days.

“Now that those plans are made, shall we proceed with your exam?”

“Right, right.” You almost forgot that’s what you’re here for. Nerves coming back, you shuffle on top of the stool. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, if you would remove your jacket, I’ll take your blood pressure and listen to your heart,” he instructs, voice settling back into something professional and neutral.

As Zayne turns away to fetch whatever tools he needs, you make quick work of taking your jacket off. The room is a little chillier than you expect. You wrap your arms around yourself to chase away the goosebumps that erupt across your skin. Your eyes stay glued on Zayne though, watching as he pulls a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from one of his drawers.

“Do you usually do exams in your office?” You ask offhandedly.

“Not usually. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, I don’t often conduct general exams,” he hums, cleaning off the blood pressure cuff with a sterile wipe.

“Am I special or something, then?”

“With the rarity of your protocore syndrome, I thought it would be most effective to handle your care myself, yes. Though if it makes you uncomfortable we can-”

Zayne’s words cut off as he finally looks back at you. Surprise flickers across his face.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, though you don’t know why. Is there something on your face? A stain on your tank top? You glance down, finding nothing of the sort.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on me?” Your hands flicker up to your face, but you don’t feel anything.

Zayne blinks and shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor. The lightest blush warms his ears.

“My apologies. I just wasn’t aware you had so many tattoos.”

Oh. Holding out your arms, you look over the expanse of ink on your skin. You guess it’s a lot. It has taken you a few years, but you’ve effectively covered your arms and shoulders in art. Most of it is florals, with small, meaningful symbols or items hidden in the foliage. You also have a few others, though they’re covered by your clothes.

“I guess you wouldn’t have seen them,” you hum thoughtfully, “I wear a lot of long sleeves to Grandma’s dinners. And work requires us to cover them up.”

“They’re quite intricate.” He sets his tools aside, drawing his chair closer to you. His hand reaches for your arm, but pauses, his eyes darting up to yours. “May I?”

“Go for it,” you whisper, feeling a little bashful now that his attention is focused solely on you.

His fingers graze your wrist lightly, as if he’s scared to press too hard. You watch as he silently turns your arm over, taking in every minute detail of your tattoos. He lingers a little longer on the small, anatomical heart at the center of it all, surrounded by gentle jasmines. They’re incredibly well done, even he can see that, and they all look like they were done some time ago.

Something melancholic and sentimental settles in his chest.

“I remember when you were just a little girl, crying over her popsicle…You truly are all grown up now, aren’t you?” His voice is thick with something you can’t quite pinpoint, his touch turning impossibly tender as he traces the lines up your elbow.

Your heart flutters a little too wildly for your likings. “You’re all grown up too, mister chief cardiac surgeon. That’s a lot bigger than some tattoos.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, breaking his impassive facade.

“These have all healed well, though,” Zayne says, a spark of mischief flickering in his eyes as that strange emotion recedes, “You must have taken good care of them, and that alone is an impressive feat for you. That’s how I know you’ve grown up.”

A mock gasp escapes you and you pull your hand away to press it against your chest. If only to break the contact so he doesn’t notice your racing pulse.

“Doctor Zayne, I am deeply offended at your insinuation,” you insist vehemently, “I am a responsible person, soon to be an amazing hunter! I know how to take care of myself.”

“Says the woman who walked on a sprained ankle for a week out of pure stubbornness.”

“How was I supposed to know it was sprained?”

“I told you it was.”

---

Xavier

The first time Xavier sees your tattoos is after a mission that doesn’t go quite right. You come home with a bandage wrapped around your shoulder and chest, and the added instructions to change the gauze once a day. Which, of course, you can’t do yourself.

“Xav?”

Xavier glances up from where he’s sitting in the sun, a book long forgotten in his lap. Those sleepy blue eyes land on you questioning. You shuffle awkwardly in the doorway, a roll of gauze in your hand.

“Would you help me real quick?” You mumble, a soft blush warming your cheeks, “I can’t uh, I can’t change them myself.”

“Of course,” he hums immediately, standing and stretching languidly, much like a cat. “I am at your service, my lady.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, shoulders sagging, which sends a twinge of pain down your arm.

It was a nasty cut. You had been so focused on fighting one wanderer that you hadn’t noticed another smaller one appearing behind you. It was your fault, and thankfully it didn’t hit anything serious, but it was in just the right place to make moving your arm difficult.

Xavier silently leads you back into the kitchen. Taking the bandages from your hand, he pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit. You do so carefully, not wanting to jostle your body too much. The hunter sets the gauze aside and kneels down in front of you, his fingers finding the hem of your sweater and pausing, placid blue eyes turning up to you in question. 

Ever the gentleman.

A tiny smile pulling at your lips, you offer him a small nod. That’s all he needs to pull it off, his hands moving slowly, with the utmost care. Thankfully, the room isn’t too cold, the setting sun pouring through the window and warming the space. The fabric musses your hair as he slips it over your head, and you instinctively reach up to fix it.

Completely missing the way Xavier’s eyes go wide as he looks down at you.

There aren’t a lot of things that catch the hunter off guard. But the ink covering your skin certainly does. Even with the bandages, he can tell it’s expansive, curling around your shoulders, dipping down your upper arms, painting the entirety of your back. It’s reminiscent of Starry Night, hundreds if not thousands of strokes forming delicate lines that follow the natural curves of your body, flowing so beautifully that they practically beg his fingers to trace them.

And as always with you, Xavier has a startling lack of self-control.

You blink at the feeling of his fingers grazing your uninjured shoulder. His touch is so light, you could almost mistake it for a breath. Almost like he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, voice twinged with concern as you try and twist to look at where his touch lingers against your skin.

“Stay still,” Xavier orders gently, and you freeze, brows arching in confusion. Realizing you're panicking a little, the hunter leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, offering a soft explanation, “You never told me you have so many tattoos. I simply want to appreciate them.”

“Oh.” Your nerves fizzle out, replaced with an embarrassed tinge of excitement. So that’s what this is about. “I forgot I haven’t shown you them yet. I guess I’m so used to them that I forget they’re there, especially since I have to cover them for work.”

Xavier shifts behind you, fingers following the lines over your shoulder. They bleed into a wash of color, dark blue and purple and pink splashes across your back. A small planet of light sits between your shoulder blades, numerous stars dancing around it. His touch lingers on the planet, a flicker of light spilling from his fingers as his evol reacts unprovoked.

“What made you choose this?” He asks, voice wavering imperceptibly. 

“I’m not sure,” you hum, shrugging your good shoulder, “I’ve always liked space. My grandma used to take me to the planetarium a lot when I was young, and I used to have dreams about it, of floating between planets and exploring the stars. I always felt drawn to this one planet, it was so pretty and it looked like it was made of light, but I could never reach it…”

Philos.

Something twinges in Xavier’s chest. How strange. You don’t remember the planet, that’s for certain, yet some part of you was still connected to it. To your home. To him. All this time…

“It’s beautiful,” he all but whispers.

Heat tinges your cheeks. That’s not usually what people say. It’s not for everyone, you know that. It’s a lot of ink, but you dreamt for so long about getting it. Still, most people usually just make offhand comments, not exactly rude, but not exactly compliments either. Like, oh that must have hurt a lot. Or, you must have saved a lot of money, huh?

Never beautiful.

And yet Xavier traces your ink with what almost feels like admiration. It makes your heart flutter with an uncharacteristic shyness, shoulders jolting up to your neck.

That’s when you remember your injury.

Letting out a low hiss, you drop your shoulder quickly as pain sizzles down your arm. Both of you had practically forgotten about it, caught in the moment. Xavier’s brow furrows again, an apology floating past his lips as he draws his fingers away - much to your disappointment.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, offering him a weak smile, “I just pulled it a little funny. We should probably check it, though.”

“Alright, I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs as he reaches for the edge of your bandage.

“...Thanks, by the way.”

You’re not sure what exactly you’re thanking him for. Helping you or his sweet reaction to the art decorating your skin. Maybe both.

And Xavier must know. He leans down, lips ghosting over your shoulder is an adoring kiss.

“Of course, my star.”

---

Sylus

The first time Sylus sees your tattoos is, of course, on the night you attend the auction. There’s no hiding the ink covering your body when you’re wearing a dress, after all. If anything, though, you think they’ll help you fit in a little better in the N109 Zone.

And you love the reaction Sylus gives you when you step out into the foyer.

For the briefest moment, his eyes go wide. Shock, perhaps the rarest emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing on him, flashes behind those carmine eyes. In an instant, it disappears though, hidden with his usual cocky expression, one of his fine brow ticking up in amusement.

“I’ll admit, sweetie,” the man hums, “You’ve surprised me.”

You flash him a cat-like grin, satisfaction burning deep in your veins, and give a little theatrical spin, “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

Hardly a single part of your body remains untouched by ink. Most of the designs are artistic. Flourishing lines twisting and curling around your muscles, strangely reminiscent of the form his evol takes. They form a network of delicate webs across your body, sometimes forming shapes, sometimes with words written along the fine linework. 

It’s hauntingly beautiful. Sylus can’t help but let his eyes slowly rove over your form, taking in every detail. They’re like a map, and his fingers are itching to explore every part of you, to see just how far the ink slips below the hem of the dress. A dress which he bought for you yet can’t be bothered to even notice now, not with such a dazzling sight set before him.

“Who knew the kitten would turn into a tigress at night,” he murmurs, voice going low and teasing as he slowly circles around you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Your boldness wavers. 

Sylus always seems to have that effect on you. Like a lamb straying from the herd and being found by the wolf. Prey before a predator starved, maw open and hungry, as if he could consume you whole. And all you can do is hold your ground, even if your legs shake, like that little lamb’s.

“Careful, Sylus,” you whisper, trying to appear unshaken by not following him with your eyes, despite the unease you feel not knowing exactly where he is, “This tiger has claws.”

You feel more than hear his presence come up behind you. A shiver traces down your spine when his breath skates over your ear, warm and far too intentional. In the same way, his fingers trace reverently down your arm, following the path of your ink, until they can intertwine with yours and draw your hand up to his lips.

“And that’s how I prefer you.” His voice is low, a mere rumble against your skin as he kisses your knuckles. Another shudder. “After all, it would be a shame to declaw such a beautiful creature. Even if she likes to scratch.”

God, you hate him.

You hate that it takes everything in you to rip yourself away from his enticing warmth. You hate that your heart is racing against your ribs, like it’s trying desperately to escape. And you especially hate the absolutely smug grin that plays on his lips (and the fact that you want to kiss it so badly).

“You’re teasing me,” you breathe unsteadily, putting space between the two of you.

Something dark flashes in his eyes, “Whatever do you mean, sweetie? I was merely giving you a compliment.”

“Then you give weird compliments,” you fire back, arms wrapping around yourself. “It sounds more like you’re making fun of me.”

Sylus pauses. Those ruby red eyes narrow on you thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line. A tick of silence. Then his expression smoothes into something almost soft, and he takes a few measured steps towards you. Long fingers graze your palm again. A question.

And you give in far too easily, not fighting as he intertwines your fingers once again. His other hand skirts along your exposed shoulder, following the lines of your tattoo as they fade at your neck. You’re frozen under the sudden tenderness of his touch, your pulse racing against his fingertips.

“My apologies, kitten. That wasn’t my intention,” he murmurs, eyes boring into yours with an unnerving genuineness, “I simply meant that your tattoos are...befitting of your character. You are truly…” He looks you over once more, his gaze leaving a tantalizing heat in its wake. That dangerous smile curls his lips again. “Captivating.”

You inhale shakily.

No one has said something like that to you before. Not that you can remember, at least. It would sound cheesy from someone else, but from Sylus? The intensity of his tone leaves you feeling as unsteady as your heart. Lightheaded.

All you can do is blink up at him, eyes wide and doe-ish. No smart retort or comeback. Your mouth, in fact, feels remarkably dry. It fills the man with a touch of pride, rendering you so speechless.

Not one to let you stay dumbfounded for too long, though, Sylus lets out a smooth chuckle and taps your chin, “Careful, sweetie. If you look at me like that, I might just think you’re falling for me.”

Which of course works. Because he knows you better than you know yourself.

“I am not!” You squawk, face going up in flames. “You just surprised me, that's all! I didn’t know you were capable of such niceties.”

Sylus grins, drawing away as you swat at his hand, “Then it seems that we’re even.”

You scowl at him. So not fair.

“Now, would you like to accompany me to this auction, sweetheart?” He offers his arm. You keep your pout up for only a few seconds before giving in and slipping your hand around his elbow begrudgingly. Sylus hums in amusement, leaning in to press a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. “Looking like this, you’ll have no trouble getting the results you’ve been searching for, tonight. You’ll be the perfect distraction, my dear.”

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?”

---

Not gonna lie, Sylus' was probably my favorite. In my head I was kind of picturing the tattoos that Anthony Padilla has (from smosh, yes, sue me), and I just think he would totally call you a tiger since he likes calling you kitten.

Hope y'all enjoyed!

I'm really feeling some angst next possibly...

[luck-of-the-drawings]

WWWOOOPS FORGOT I MADE THIS. drew this back at around when the hyperbolic time chamber training arc was just starting. remember that? huh? remember the hamspter??? ohhhhhhhh youll remember the haspter!!!! oh my god yknow what else i remember. williams overwhelming love for christmas. oh my god. spooky zombie boy loves the christmas.. literally the best possible thing for him...

[oceandiagonale]

I know I've said a million times before but I absolutely love your artstyle. I've never been the biggest dan of my own art cuz it's always been way too complicated and really difficult to just doodle characters and stuff-- but yours is always so consistent in comparison (not that I'm saying I'm bad at art I just struggle to draw using the same techniques I used to)

I wondered if you had any anatomy tips for characters? Like do you break down characters into shapes to get their proportions vaguely correct while sketching? If you do I very much want to know what shapes you use because I've not been able to draw a single full body character in quite a while cuz I can't get their proportions the way I want 😅

OH god good question also THANKS JSDFHD 😭😭😭

uhhhh I guess I do the general blocky thing that most people do?

(like I'd emphasize the vague in "vaguely correct" here because every other day I stumble on a new amazing art tutorial on how to simplify all 900 back muscles into a perfect shape and it's like oh wow I have Not been doing that and I probably still won't remember now)

BUT for me it's all about the Vibes

so when I'm really trying it usually either ends up being an amalgam of some tips that I try to remember + the shapes I've seen the most in tutorials since the early internet KFJHSDJKF

but like a lot of the time I just do something super simple and then I have to figure it out later on a second sketch layer so it's all kind of a mess BUT that's the general shapes at least!!

[orionremastered]

hi! I was wondering how the bats would be with a reader who is disabled or has prosthetics? they're all just very protective of people they care about since...everything, and how maybe that could start to feel sufacating at some point? Or something, idk dude

(also-the way you write is realy cute and sweet for all of them, makes them feel a lot less heavy when they have someone to hold them <33)

Masterlist

Batboys with a Disabled S/O

Dick Grayson [Fully Deaf]

A gentle touch on your shoulder prompts you to slowly turn around, a smile stretching across your face when you realise your boyfriend's back from work.

You pull him into your arms, threading your fingers through his hair. Pulling away reluctantly, you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he's not smiling; only a sad smile that makes you tilt your head in a silent question.

Don't worry about it, he signs. Have a good day?

You nod, though your frown remains when he moves to the kitchen, always adamant that he cooks whenever he's home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID and puts the phone on speaker as he begins cooking.

Dick gets more and more angry as the conversation goes on, his hands waving wildly around the small kitchen, only stopping to return to the cooking.

Finally, he hangs up. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns, watching as you sign;

Who was that?

Dick's shoulders raise and drop. A case I'm working on. I'll figure it out.

You nod slowly, satisfied with his response.

Jason Todd [Fully Blind]

Mornings with Jason always start like this. They always start with you gently running your fingers across his face, mapping it out and imagining it in your head. Over his nose, his lips, his stubble.

"Did you clean the apartment?" you ask, lying on top of him as your guide dog sits next to you on the mattress. "I almost knocked one of your guns off the counter yesterday."

"I did," he murmurs. You rest your fingers on his lips and feel that they're stretched into a smile. "I'm sorry for letting it get messy."

"That's okay," you reply quietly, "Ollie picked it up before it hit the floor."

Ollie, your guide dog, makes a huffing sound beside you, causing you both to chuckle.

"Good boy," Jason says proudly, feeling him shift underneath you, mostly likely to pat Ollie.

"You're both good. Too good, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asks.

"Hmm."

Tim Drake [Classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome]

"Love? Can we go for a camping trip on the weekend with my friends?"

Tim turns his head slowly as he sits in his study chair. He taps the pen he's holding against his lips. "What happens if you get exhausted?"

"We can go back to the tent and rest."

"You can get bruises. A lot of bruises," he frowns, gesturing for you to walk to him. You comply.

"That's fine, they're just bruises," you respond, sitting on his lap. He begins gently drawing shapes on the bare skin of your thighs.

"You could dislocate something," he says to you, quieter now.

"You know how to put it back. You do it for me all the time."

Tim's brow furrows at the reminder of having to put back in dislocated joints more often than he'd like. "Fine. But if you even start to get a little tired, you tell me. Okay?"

You rest your forehead against his and murmur, "Okay."

Damian Wayne [Prosthetic Arm]

"I'll take those—"

"Damian, I love you, but I can put shopping bags into the car just fine." This and many similar conversations have been going on practically since the start of your relationship. And while you do find it endearing that he cares, sometimes you just want him to treat you like you didn't lose your right arm in an accident.

The man scowls. "But—"

"I'm not going to hurt myself, really."

He watches you warily, weighing the outcomes of the situation. "Fine. Only the lighter ones."

You suppose it's better than not being able to do any of them. Still, he watches you like a hawk as you put the lighter ones in the back of the car he bought you (you protested but that man has the most selective hearing).

He closes the trunk/boot after the bags are inside.

"Can I drive?" you ask, hoping you'll get luck there too.

"No."

"I know how."

"No."

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.

[coveredinsweetpea]

not to be a whore........... but imagine making out with Eddie's buldge through his underwear 😩

🥴🥴🥴 tbh I think there are two different scenarios and I wanted to choose only one to elaborate on but I couldn't so here I go: you're both either too lazy to care and this evolves from a sleepy cuddling session OR you're being needy and clingy, begging for his attention - just a whiny mess basically, and this is all that he's willing to give you. Both detailed under the cut 🥴🥴 (the 2nd one is pure filth, humiliation, degradation etc 18+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

It's summer, Wayne's not in town and you have all the trailer to yourselves. But it's still early, no one's in the mood to party yet, it's hot and you're both too lazy to move. 

Eddie's starfish on the bed, a comic book having him completely under its spell, while you lay lazily with your head on his tummy, hoping sleep would envelop you. But it doesn't; Eddie's too caught up with a plot twist he didn't see coming, and ideas start coming to you. 

Your eyes fix the outline of his cock and without saying a word, you palm him in your hand, your fingers drawing random patterns on the material of his boxer briefs. 

Eddie doesn't react, at least not to your knowledge, but one eyebrow does pop up. You don't see it however and decide to keep going, moving your hand a bit to the side so you can rub the length of his cock. 

"Sweetheart?" Eddie lifts his comic book so he can look at you, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing"

You don't even look at him, just keep teasing him through his boxers, until he can't help but tense his thighs. "Love?"

"Yeah?" again, you answer without bothering to face him, but this time you do move. Just in the opposite direction, nonchalantly pressing your lips against his bulge. 

The gesture was light, not too sudden or too strong, but the reason he froze for a second is the pure confusion that washed over him. But he doesn't get a chance to ask, because when he feels what you're doing - understands that you're right now literally kissing the length of his cock, he can't help but chuckle. 

"Sweetheart, you know I can take those off for you, right?" Eddie teases, one hand on the top of your head as you keep going.

"Nah" you shrug and wrap your lips around his clothed tip. One of your hands slips lower, your fingers brushing against his balls as you start sucking. 

"Ah fuck" he gasps. But you don't budge.

You keep at it - licking, sucking, grabbing, your teeth lightly grazing the tip of his cock. 

"Baby, damn it" the comic book flies across the room, his attention now fully on you. "You wanna make me cum like that?"

But you don't answer. You just shove your hand up one of the legs of his boxer, cup his balls into your hand, and resume full on making out with his cock. 

The sheer feeling of him getting hard under your lips, the way he can barely control his breathing, how his thighs tense and how his abdomen clenches every time you apply just a little bit more pressure, makes you want to see just how far you can go. 

Brushing your thumb over the wet patches on his underwear, you look up at him, "Yeah, I wanna. Can I try?"

"Try?" he laughs and rubs your cheek with the back of his fingers, "Darling, you're halfway there"

You beam under his praise and resume your quest, eagerly sucking and tugging through the material as his cock visibly stiffens.

"But then you'll take yours off. You can play around all you want, but you know I can't stop until you've made a mess on my face, doll"

Fine by you.

OR

You being clingy isn't anything new. The planets sometimes settle so that some days the only thing you want is his attention and nothing else. And it's usually not a problem, Eddie being more than happy to oblige and give you what you so desperately crave, but there are also days when that is not possible. 

Like this one.

Busy with tasks Wayne left for him, the campaign needing some last minute fixes, Dustin asking for a ride and a Corroded Coffin concert late in the evening - this day is bound to suck for the both of you. 

You manage to compose yourself for as long as you can, but by the time you reach the venue for the show, you're almost out of your mind. Begging, teasing, whining, throwing yourself at other men to get his attention - you do everything in your power to get his attention. But you fail. Miserably. As once you finally get home, things don't play out the way you had hoped - at all. 

"So fucking desperate, like a fucking whore" Eddie scoffs, plopping down on the couch. He spreads his legs and nods, "Do your thing"

Normally, you'd whine and complain, but your brain isn't cooperating so you listen to his command. You kneel in front of him, undo his jeans, and then helplessly look up at him, bottom lip popping out. "Eddie…"

"Do you need help, kitten?"

You nod.

"Do you deserve it? You acted like a dumb slut all night. Why would I help you? You can't even take my dick out, why would I let you suck it?"

"Please, Eddie…" you cry.

"Look into my eyes, doll" he commands, his hand on your chin forcing you to face him. "Apologize for the way you've been tonight"

"I'm- I'm sorry" you sniffle, "Please-"

"Sorry for being such a cock thirsty whore that you can't even function unless you get to have my dick down your throat?"

"...yes"

"Say it, baby. You need to hear yourself saying it. And look into my eyes while you do it, love. Show me how bad you want it"

"Please, Eddie-" you blink, "I'm sorry for being such a whore, but I need it, please. Can I please, please, suck your cock, please?"

And your pleading might have been enough but you'll never know. Eddie doesn't even get a chance to fully strip before he sees the hungry look in your eyes. "Come here" he motions as he stands up, his jeans now pooling around his ankles. "Show me you want it"

For a second, you look up at him in confusion, but the way his cock stretches the material of his underwear has you feral all over again.

So you don't question it, don't complain, you just get to work. He's hard - throbbing almost, the wet patch of precum making your tongue tingle as you make out with his cock as best you can. 

"That's my girl" he grins, patting your head, "My good girl, keep going. Make me cum. If you can do it, you get to swallow it all, baby"

[11cupids-tarot11]

What's going on right now? Need Clarity? A message from Spirit!

1-3

Choose a selfie! ☆

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Want to book a private reading?

Socials

Cupid's Master-List

Tips are appreciated!

Cash app tag: $minnieplant3

Pay pal@: janellec03

I 🫶🏾 y'all!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 1- 9 of Pentacles, 9 of Wands, Princess of Pentacles, 3 of Cups, 8 of Cups, 9 of Swords, The Hermit, Ace of Cups, King of Cups, Ace of Wands, 2 of Cups, extra card- Prince of Pentacles.

Bottom of the deck- The Lovers

Hi my pile 1!

Today I feel like Spirit really wants to talk about you and your work. I heard something about planting roots, could be a literal 9-5 job we're talking about or even a relationship for some of you (I'm picking up on a masculine here), but I'm feeling like it might not be the way you want to to be right now, you're not seeing the results of all of your hard work but the Nine of Pentacles talks about having to climb that last mountain before you can reach the top and rest. This energy here is expressing though we may be so tired and want to give up it's very important you look back and see how far you've come in any given situation, how much you've progressed with maybe in a job, or something that really matters to you like finishing a book or even how much progress you've made in a relationship as well. (My phone buzzed as confirmation, I feel like there's a little bit about love in this reading which is crazy because I'm trying so hard to be diverse and not talk about romance so much but other forms of love too lol). Overall I'm getting don't give up, I know it's a struggle but sometimes it's good to sit back, reflect and remember our "Why". We just need that extra push of motivation, whatever motivates you, even if it's taking a small break before you decide to get back at it again, anything but quit! An example I could use is when I'm working on my Digital Art for a good hour and decide I still don't like how my drawing looks, I get tired but deep down want to finish it soo bad, so instead of giving up I take a break, let my fingers breathe and get a snack before going back at it again, sometimes it's okay to not break your back trying to finish projects no one's perfect.

So I feel like Spirit also wants to warn us of becoming too materialistic, it's clear this message is for someone who's worked hard to get to where they are now, but I feel like you haven't had the time to celebrate that because you're too focused on moving on to the next thing so quickly, we should appreciate and honor and celebrate all that we've done for ourselves even if you haven't reached the highest goal you've set, go out and celebrate with people you love! You deserve it!

So I feel energy like someone putting so much on themselves, I feel like you make yourself your main concern? If that makes sense? Like someone who gets frustrated at themselves because they quit something, someone here overworks their mind way too much, to a dangerous point. You're pushing your body to work so much because of a certain goal and I see here you see yourself as the problem. You are the very thing that crafts your reality but you can also break it as well. You know that saying less is more? I just heard it in my head, like if you stopped focusing so hard on this and live a little you might manifest it better not obsessing over it so much.

I'm picking up on two different messages, one is for someone who hardly has fun, I think the main message for you to overcome some things is to reach out more to people you love, spend more quality time with them! Have fun, go out and just go for a walk or sit in the park! Do something that doesn't feel like a job, you know? For others, I'm getting you might be more introverted, Spirit is encouraging you to branch out more, maybe work is something that you've just always known and been comfortable, but Spirit is encouraging you to go make some friends, step out of your comfort zone a little! Sometimes someone's companionship is all you need and you would've even realize it because if you're like me and hardly care for socializing it's something you can definitely live without, can't miss something you've never had right? Lol.

I feel some anxiety, negative thoughts and bad coping methods that are no longer serving you, but I feel like this anxiety is just coming from being scared, scared of the unknown especially. This energy doesn't serve you, focus on healing this and pushing this energy out of our consciousness, don't expect it, normalize it or embrace it.

I think as time goes on you could slip into a state of wanting to be alone a lot, I think this is a warning if you continue on you'll always be stuck in that energy. I think the hermit also reminds us to consider ourselves better, present and future, encourages to get to know yourself as well, take time to really understand and appreciate yourself.

I think you're a kind person, I'm seeing here you're represented by the Ace of Cups as well as how you see yourself, which means there is self love there, even if you don't see it or feel it's not impossible! Take it day by day, step by step, whatever that looks like for you! You have lots of joy and sunshine 🌞 maybe you're someone who likes to keep a positive appearance and rarely ever show your real emotions especially if they're negative.

I keep picking up on small messages of someone waiting for a specific love interest or maybe just waiting for your love life to get juicy in general.

I feel like someone's hoping for a connection, there's lots of masculine energy here. This is a special message so if you've been hoping for a specific person Spirit knows! I can't get much but maybe that's because it's not supposed to be a love reading, but I did get that message, Spirit hears you. Maybe this masculine is also a person some of you know, like they're in your life already and they have a heavy impact on you. I'm seeing for some of you it doesn't have to be romantic, could be a father figure for those of you wishing to get closer with your father's!

In conclusion, I don't want to say you'll never find a solution to your problems, but I will say life will always be throwing tough situations at us, at any given time, I think the highlighted message here would be that our mindset is the key here, you can't change your situation maybe but you can decide how you handle them. A strong mindset is always important, a clear and positive one. It's not an answer, no, but it's more like encouragement. I feel like Spirit wants to remind you as long as you have you, you'll never really be stuck or lost, you have the power to see the greater good of any situation or the power to visualize and manifest a life or outcome of a situation you want!

Hope you like this reading! Love you! <3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 2- The Hermit, Judgment, Eight of Pentacles, Four of Cups, The Tower, The Star, Three of Swords, Nine of Cups, Nine of Wands, The hanged man and The World.

Back of deck: Queen of Cups

So the Hermit is once the fool, right? I feel this card is drawn today to point out that you need to focus on something with yourself. You're being pushed to learn more about yourself maybe, I'm getting this card also signifies someone who mostly spends their time alone, this could be because you're being drawn to focus more on yourself and this could also serve as a warning for some that you could be surrounding yourself with too many energies. Either way this card does signify a change does need to happen. A path needs to be taken. Something needs to be done, let's see what it is!

So currently it's healing, I'm seeing it's something heavy on your mind and heart. Well, with the Justice I hear that you have the option to heal right now, you maybe have been wondering what does healing really mean? and I'm hearing that the Angels Gabriel maybe are present with this card and that the path to healing is about to basically open up for you to take. I want to go into great detail about what I mean but can't find the best words, my book describes it like 'an opportunity to scrape off any remaining bits of mud clinging to your boots'.

I feel like someone here is very focused on healing for the greater good, you have a desire, strong will and determined just to do better for you and with the Eight of Pentacles it serves as kind of a confirmation that your guides do see and hear your efforts. Some of us could even be manifesting greater things, better days and your guides definitely do hear you! Makes me feel like they're hinting that your wish will be granted soon, the judgment card does often hint at justice! ;)

I know it might be confusing or some of you are probably like "what?" But I'm hearing that you'll just get random downloads and be like "oh yeah, duh! I should totally try doing that." A specific message for a few of you lol.

So the four of cups makes me feel like your guides are just pointing out more the need to kind of take a break away from everything and everyone. Maybe you're around people who don't have your best intentions or don't really serve you or your healing journey and spirit warns to watch who we keep around, it might be time to cut some people off. Some of you might be getting invited out, it's okay to reject them and let them down easy, take time for you, it's okay to not be bothered and be in the comfort of just yourself! <33

Right now I feel like you're carrying a lot of tension, anxiety and there's a call to release all of that, a change, I feel like being around people might be causing this anxiety because this is supposed to represent your external energy and you got the tower card, but so far all I'm getting is isolation is good for you, which is making me think there might just be a specific person causing this anxiety, if they make you feel bad they're not worth having around, i had to learn that the hard way whoever needs to hear this 😭 🩷

So we're letting go of burdens, anything that's holding us back, we're getting into really good energy! I love this pile honestly lol. You got the hope card! While all of this is happening, you're going to be passing through really heavy energy I bet, it might feel like you got hit by a bus even but your guides want you to remain hopeful! Try to stay as optimistic and positive as you can be, showing gratitude can also help right now! But good job! You're looking at every corner of your shadow self, you're doing a really good job too!

Okay, see! The three of swords is heavy energy but it does signify ✨ NEW 😍 and BETTER 😩 things for us! If you keep going this road, you're going to find something that really brings you contentment and life will feel good again for you! You're getting justice baby!!! I'M TRYING TO GET YOU HYPED BECAUSE YOUR GUIDES ARE PROMISING EVERYTHING YOU'VE WISHED FOR!! 😍😍 Lol whatever that might look like for you, like lately I've really been wishing for a new apartment, so when spirit says my wishes are about to be granted I'd get real excited because that means I'm gonna find a way to get that new apartment soon! Lol.

So right now I feel like you know you're able to manifest these good things all on your own. I feel like a few of you are like me and it maybe took you this long journey to get where you are now, maybe mentally or also in a physical matter, either way you look back and see how far you've come, you still want so much more and maybe you kinda pick on yourself when you realize that but your working on being content and grateful and moving forward now that you really understand how to now!

So I'm hearing that you might have some fears about never seeing progress, or maybe you're grinding very hard I'm talking day and night and you haven't seen the results you want, but you'll get there! I'm hearing the only way you don't is if you give up on yourself. As long as you have the consistency, motivation and power to keep showing up you will definitely see the results you want!

You got the world card as your outcome! This is a possible outcome, the world represents completion usually all things of a happy ending basically! Which means this is how your outcome will be! You do big work and receive big rewards from the universe! You're going to be sooo happy, you're on your way to your biggest achievement yet I feel! Congratulations! 🤭😍

I also heard a message about someone needing to further develop their spiritual growth!!

Hope you enjoyed!! 🩷 Love you sweetie piez

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 3- Eight of Cups, Temperance, Three of Cups, Seven of Cups, Princess of Wands, Ace of Cups, King of Swords, The Emperor, Princess of Cups, Ace of Swords, Two of Cups.

Hii! ☺️ So there's a message for you in pile 2! Specific for some of you, maybe if you felt drawn to more than one pile I highly recommend checking it out because I could not stop channeling that!

Let's get into your reading now!

So you're currently in an era of change right now, moving away from toxic energies, environments, mindsets and/or situations, I'm hearing it's because you're embarking on something new and you want to have a fresh clean state basically. Good for you! I totally resonate with that, it's a very good example of bringing home a new puppy even though you already have a dog, you still buy the new dog it's own toys and personal items because you can't just take the old dog's things and give it away, you have to start all over again and buy fresh items, you know? Weird example but this is the best I could explain it 🤣 I don't even have a dog so bare with me lol.

So I see that you're currently questioning how to go about this, and I get the feel that the Temperance card is telling us that we have that answer within. I think Spirit really wants to remind you to listen to your inner child as well, not only that but all parts because it's very important, even our shadow selves. So I feel like that's something you're going to be going through, mental clarity. This energy is a lot like pile 2! There's an overlapping message! Pretty soon you'll be gaining insight, like you'll be receiving downloads and messages from your team and everything will just "click" for you, yk? 😭 Lots of magical energy in all of the piles today it's crazy. I think you're also going to be learning how to balance yourself out, you're going to Intuitively just know because you've done the work searching every part of yourself!

So I see some tension and desire around three of cups, maybe someone here could be wishing for healthier connections, maybe there's some fear of being alone even and it's triggering some healing to be done around that area.

So like I said earlier, you're going to be receiving some intuitive messages that will bring you lots of clarity which is confirmation with the Seven of Cups, it'll just come to you, you might receive an important dream soon! So just keep on keeping on lmao basically stay true to your goals and keep forward on your path!

Okay okay I see you working on moving into your Princess of Wands energy! So the Princess part is like someone who's still learning, so you're going to be in an energy that you're in control of! I feel like you're already represented by the Princess of Wands energy and you're just working on being Queen now! You're going to learn how to utilize your personal energy, creativity and sexual power. Okay so you're going to need this new energy for the path you're going down, you're going to shine through it, literally you're a star whoever you are lmao other people see your energy too, you're someone people look up to! You're embarking on a new journey, I feel like I keep repeating myself a lot but even in my tarot book it says the exact same thing in the card description as the messages I'm channeling from Spirit 🤣 I've gotta start a YouTube so I can show you guys more! Or would you guys prefer if I just included pictures? I don't for aesthetic purposes but let me know guys!

Anyways, back to YOU lol,

So I see you wishing for lots of abundance like love maybe, doesn't have to be very deep and serious like marriage but I feel like a few of you want a baby and someone that loves you and it's a dream of yours, but you're probably putting that dream to the side right now to work on yourself which is good! That way when you are ready to receive you'll know exactly what to do with your gifts, treat them nicely lol! I do see a promising future for you where you receive all of that plus the self love from yourself which will already come first before anything, I think it's really beautiful energy I really like this pile 😭 I love you whoever you are, you feel so sweet!

OOO I see a King of Swords in someone's future? I feel like this is a romantic for a few of you because you also have the Two of Cups as your ending card which represents union to me. My book describes this person as fascinating, and talkative, they'll be very good at providing you emotionally and physically wise! I feel like after all of this work you're finally getting the connection with someone you've been waiting for!

Gender doesn't matter here, but you might see yourself as the Emperor, even if you struggle to, the outside world does too! You're a born leader, you're strong and intelligent enough to LEAD the team! People respect you I feel like, you're very hardworking, you like to set goals, some people might call you a nerd lol 🤓. I feel like in school you were the one who took control in group projects, you're very outspoken and an outgoing person, people love to be around you!

You might not have had many relationships, I'm hearing you might be kind of scared of love and have some hope and fears around it, you'll be discovering your own love language I hear ☺️ how precious omg.

So someone around you with the Ace of Swords suggests that someone you've already had your eye on someone for a while, a few of you might even be in the talking stages still! Either way you might already know who you're coming into union with 🤣 Crazy! For others of you, you will be meeting this person soon! A complete stranger you'll just bump into within divine timing on the weirdest day of your life!

So the Two of Cups is your outcome! With the two of cups it means you'll get the perfect person you've been waiting for! Which is what you've been wishing for, right? (Me too😭) I'm seeing that picturing your perfect person will help manifest them! Some of you could be dating after heartbreak as well I'm picking up on, for those of you who are single you'll be glowing! People will notice and compliment you a lot more. You're just ready to receive while being in your Queen energy! Real hot girl shit 😍 lol I love that omg.

Lots of water energy, someone could be a water sign, Pisces, Scorpio or Cancer or have those placements heavily in ur chart. Someone here could like the color blue or purple or those colors might be significant for you. The number 4 might also be significant. Someone could wear red a lot.

I hope you enjoyed this reading! Love youuu!!!

[mononijikayu]

dearest, darling, my universe — gojo satoru.

"He… he always knew what to say, didn’t he?" Megumi murmurs, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah." you reply, your voice thick with tears. "He always did." The weight of Satoru's absence presses heavily upon you, but the words on the paper offer a strange comfort, like a hand reaching out through the dark. You hold the letter tightly, almost as if you could draw him back with the force of your grip.

GENRE: post shinjiku showdown (spoilers for jjk chapter 268)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 11k words.

NOTE: my brothers caught a cold so i caught it too because that's just how it sometimes goes when you're always together. i've been writing a bunch of stuff in the mean time, cause i'm strong enough at least. but i hope you enjoy this. it took me a while to write this, but it's finally done. also, listen to iu's song love wins all while reading this. love you all!!!

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

IT’S BEEN A WHILE, BUT THINGS HAVE CHANGED. The world feels quiet now, almost unnaturally so, as if it is holding its breath, waiting to see what comes next. The grounds are empty, unlike how they used to be. The sky is heavy and dulled gray and the wind carries a strange stillness that presses against your skin. 

Everything seems suspended, caught in a moment that refuses to pass, a calm that feels more like a warning than a relief. It’s the kind of quiet that settles in after a storm — not the peace that follows resolution, but the heavy, fragile silence that comes when everything has been ripped apart, and nothing has been put back together.

Your gaze searches for someone as you look towards the horizon. It takes you a while, but you smile when you find that figure again. You sighed, he’s been there awhile. But you don't blame him. You think that Fushiguro Megumi feels like he’d find peace, if he sits there to wonder what had been before. You find him sitting on the bench your husband had loved to sit on years ago, his back turned to you. He is still, his head lowered, shoulders slumped, and you can see the way his body trembles with each ragged breath.

He’s still recovering, as most are after the battle with Sukuna. But for Megumi, the wounds are deeper, more insidious. After being imprisoned by Sukuna, after having his body and mind twisted and torn apart from the inside out, he’s struggling to find his footing again. His physical scars may heal with time, but the ones etched into his soul are a different story.

You approach slowly, hesitant to break the fragile stillness that surrounds him. He doesn’t turn to look at you, but you know he’s aware of your presence. You can see it in the way his shoulders tense, the slight shift of his head as if he’s listening, waiting. You move closer until you’re standing beside him, close enough to see the bandaged bruises that still darken his skin, the way his hands are clenched tightly in his lap, knuckles white with the effort of holding himself together.

“Megumi.” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, careful not to startle him.

He doesn’t respond at first, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance, his blue green eyes shadowed and hollow. You can’t tell if he’s looking at the ruins or something beyond them, something only he can see. You wait, giving him the time he needs, the space to decide whether he wants to speak or remain silent.

Finally, he lets out a breath, slow and heavy, his shoulders sagging further. “I couldn’t sleep.” he murmurs, so quietly you almost miss it. “I could still feel it. Like he’s still here… in my head… in my body. And then my dreams…. My hands and Gojo–sensei’s eyes….”

The words hang in the air, raw and unsteady, as if they barely have the strength to escape his lips. You hear the tremor in his voice, the way it quivers with each syllable. It’s a sound you haven’t heard from him before, a vulnerability that he rarely shows, and it cuts through you like a knife. Your heart aches at the sound of his voice, so broken and raw, a far cry from the stoic, determined young man you’ve known for so long.

You can see it in the way his eyes stare ahead, unfocused, as if he’s searching for something he can’t quite grasp. The way his hands tremble slightly, even though they’re clenched tightly on his knees. He sounds lost, like he’s still fighting a battle that has no end, still trying to claw his way out of a darkness that clings to him like a second skin. His whole body seems to sag under the weight of it, the invisible chains that bind him to a past he can’t escape.

“I see.” you whisper, your voice gentle, but firm. You reach out, hesitantly, resting your hand on his arm, feeling the tension that coils beneath his skin, the way his muscles are taut and ready to snap. “I’m sorry for that, Megumi.”

He flinches at your touch, just a little, his gaze flicking to yours for a brief second before darting away again. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s torn between wanting to believe you and the insidious doubt that’s been planted deep inside him. There’s a flicker of shame, of fear, as if he’s afraid of admitting just how much he’s struggling, how much of himself he feels he’s lost.

“It’s going to take some time for all of this to go and change.” he finally admits, his voice low, almost inaudible. “It feels like… like he’s still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, waiting for a chance to come back. And then Gojo–sensei’s voice echoes sometimes, whispering… and Sukuna just….It’s like he’s a part of me now, and I don’t know how to make him leave.”

His words are laced with a quiet desperation, a plea for some kind of reassurance that you’re not sure you can give. How do you tell someone that the ghost in their mind will eventually fade when you know that kind of pain never truly leaves? How do you promise a tomorrow free of shadows when the past clings so fiercely to the present?

You tighten your grip on his arm, just a little, enough to ground him, to let him know you’re here. “He won’t win. Satoru knew that too.” you say, your voice is firmer now, more certain. “Not while you’re still fighting. And I know you, Megumi. You’ve fought through worse. You’re stronger than you think, even when you feel like you’re falling apart.”

His eyes meet yours again, and you can see the doubt there, the fear. But beneath it, there’s a spark of something else, something fragile and faint, but alive — hope, maybe. A glimmer of belief that he can pull through this, that he can find himself again. His lips part, but he seems to hesitate, as if afraid of saying something he can’t take back.

“I’m tired.” he confesses, and it feels like the weight of the world is in those two words. “I’m so tired of fighting. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

You swallow hard, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes, but you blink them back. “I know." you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I know you are. And it’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to be tired, to need a break. But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, Megumi. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

He exhales, a shaky breath that trembles with all the emotions he’s been holding in, and for a moment, he looks like he might break, like the walls he’s built around himself might finally come crashing down. His shoulders slump further, and he leans forward, just a fraction, as if testing the waters, as if trying to decide if it’s safe to fall.

“I….” he starts, his voice breaking, “I keep thinking about him… and about everyone we lost. And I wonder if it’s even worth it, to keep going… if I’m even worth it. I…I helped cause all this pain.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. You tighten your grip on his arm, leaning closer, your heart breaking for him, for everything he’s endured, for everything he’s still enduring.

“Megumi.” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “You are worth it. You’re worth every fight, every tear, every moment of pain. You’re worth it because you’re here, and you’re trying, and you haven’t given up. And that… that’s everything.”

He looks at you, his eyes searching, as if trying to find the truth in your words, as if he wants to believe you but doesn’t know how. His lips tremble, and for a moment, he seems like he might speak, might say something that could change everything.

But then he just closes his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek, and he lets out a breath, long and shuddering. “I don’t know.” he whispers, but he doesn’t pull away from your touch. He stays there, his body tense but close, and you know that for now, that’s enough.

You feel the slight tremor in his shoulders, the way he fights to keep himself together, and you wonder how many times he’s had to do this — how many times he’s been forced to stand tall when everything inside him was falling apart. You can see the exhaustion etched in the lines of his face, the dark circles beneath his eyes. He’s so young, but he looks older now, like the weight of the world has been pressing down on him for too long.

You don’t say anything, just keep your hand on his arm, feeling the faint, steady beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips. You know that words won’t fix this, won’t make the shadows in his eyes disappear. But you want him to know he’s not alone, that he doesn’t have to carry this burden by himself.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans into you, just a little, his head bowing as if the strength he’s been holding onto is slipping away. You don’t move, don’t flinch, just let him take whatever he needs from you, let him find some solace in the contact, in the warmth of another human being who understands, who has lost as much as he has.

“I’m scared.” he admits, his voice so soft you almost miss it, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m scared that I’ll never be… me again. That I’ll never be whole. That I’ll always feel… like this.”

Your heart aches at the confession, at the way his voice breaks, the way his words tremble with an uncertainty that shakes you to your core. You feel a tear slip down your own cheek, and you quickly brush it away, not wanting him to see, not wanting to add to his pain.

“It’s okay to be scared.” you whisper back, your voice rough with emotion. “I’m scared too, Megumi. Every day. But you don’t have to do this alone. You have people who care about you, who love you. And we’ll get through this… somehow. Together.”

He nods, just barely, and you can feel the tiniest bit of tension ease from his frame, as if your words have given him something to hold onto, even if just for a moment. His tired eyes remain closed, and he takes another deep breath, his lips pressing into a thin line, his brows furrowing like he’s trying to muster some strength from within.

“I miss him.” he confesses, almost like he’s ashamed to say it out loud. “I miss Gojo–sensei. Tsumiki, I…I still can’t…”

Silence engulfs you, heavy and unrelenting, settling like a thick fog between you and Megumi. He opens his eyes. You couldn’t help but see the light of devastation in his eyes, a light that flickers and fades like a dying star. It’s a look you’ve seen before, a look you’ve felt etched into your own reflection every time you’ve caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The eyes that have stared back at you have been hollowed out, drained of their usual spark, carrying the same weight that now rests in Megumi’s.

You see it in the way he looks down, his gaze fixed on some invisible point on the ground, as if he’s afraid that meeting your eyes might shatter whatever fragile composure he’s managed to hold onto. The devastation is so clear in his expression, so raw and exposed, like an open wound that hasn’t begun to heal.

But you share the same look, you think. Because you’ve both lost the dearest people in your lives. The ones who held you together, who gave you strength when you needed it most. You knew that too well — the pain, the grief that seems to expand with every breath you take, filling the space around you, making it harder and harder to breathe. Tsumiki, taken from him so suddenly, so cruelly. And now Satoru, your husband, the man who was everything — your light, your laughter, your reason to keep fighting even when the world felt like it was falling apart.

How much more can you both bear?

It feels like there’s a weight pressing down on your chest, an invisible force squeezing the air out of your lungs. Your heart aches with a pain that’s deep and unyielding, a pain that you’ve grown accustomed to, but that never seems too dull. It’s the kind of pain that lingers, that finds its way into every corner of your being, that refuses to be ignored no matter how hard you try.

You think of Satoru — his smile, his ridiculous jokes, the way he could light up a room just by being in it. You think of Tsumiki — her quiet strength, her gentle kindness, the way she could make Megumi laugh even when he didn’t want to. You think of how much they meant to you, to both of you, and you wonder how you’re supposed to go on without them. How do you keep moving forward when the ground beneath you has been ripped away? How do you find the strength to keep fighting when the people who gave you that strength are gone?

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, hot and heavy, and you quickly brush it away. You don’t want Megumi to see, don’t want him to think that you’re breaking, that you’re crumbling under the weight of your own grief. But maybe he already knows. Maybe he can see it in the way your hands tremble, in the way your shoulders sag just a little, in the way your breath catches in your throat like you’re fighting to keep from sobbing.

Megumi finally looks up, and when his eyes meet yours, you see the reflection of your own sorrow staring back at you. His eyes are tired, so very tired, like he hasn’t slept in days, weeks even. There’s a hollowness in them, a void where there used to be determination and fire. He looks older than he is, worn down by the battles he fought, by the losses he’s endured. And you wonder how much more he can take, how much more you can ask of him when he’s already given so much.

“I’m… I’m not sure how to do this.” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper, his words trembling on the edge of breaking. “I don’t know how to… keep going.”

Your heart tightens, and you feel a fresh wave of grief wash over you, cold and sharp like a blade. You want to tell him that it will get easier, that the pain will fade, but you know it’s not true. You know that some losses never heal, that some wounds never close. All you can do is reach out and take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently, letting him know that you’re here, that you’re not going anywhere.

“I don’t know how either.” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “But we have to try… for them. For ourselves.”

He nods, but it’s a slow, uncertain nod, like he’s still not sure if he believes you, if he believes in anything anymore. His grip tightens around your hand, almost desperate, like he’s holding on for dear life. And maybe he is. Maybe you both are, trying to keep each other afloat in a sea of loss and uncertainty, trying to find something solid to cling to when everything else has been swept away.

For a long moment, you stand there in silence, feeling the weight of everything you’ve lost, everything you’re still losing. And you realize that there’s no easy answer, no simple path forward. There’s only this — the two of you, standing together in the midst of all the broken pieces, trying to make sense of a world that no longer feels whole. And maybe that’s enough. For now, maybe that’s enough.

"I… I keep thinking he’ll walk through that door too, you know?" you finally manage to say, your voice catching on the last word. "With that grin of his, like it's all been a bad dream."

Megumi’s gaze drops to the ground. “Me too.” he whispers. "I keep hearing his voice, like he's about to make another joke… or ruffle my hair." His hands curl into fists, and he swallows hard. "I don’t know if I want to laugh or scream."

You reach out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on his arm. "It feels wrong, doesn't it? For him to be gone."

He nods, his shoulders slumping further. "I hated how he made everything a joke, how he never took things seriously… but I’d give anything to hear him laugh again." His voice cracks, and you see the tears he's been holding back start to gather in his eyes.

Your own tears brim over, and you don’t bother wiping them away. "I don’t know what to do." you admit. "I feel lost without him. I thought we’d have more time… that we could…"

"To live together?" Megumi finishes for you, and you nod, grateful that he understands.

For a moment, you both stand there in your shared grief, the silence punctuated by the distant sounds of the wind moving through the ruins. Finally, Megumi reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, worn and slightly crumpled, as if it’s been handled many times. You look at him and then to the paper. You could feel the air knocked from your lungs. 

"He… he left this for you." he says, handing it over. “Ieiri–san gave this to me. He told Ieiri–san to give it to you.....if something happened, you’d be the one to need it most.”

You take the letter with trembling hands, the weight of it almost too much to bear. For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to open it, terrified of what it might say, of the finality it represents. But then you unfold it, the familiar scrawl of his handwriting dancing across the page, and his little drawing of himself on the side. You don’t know whether you were going to laugh or cry. Because, almost immediately, you can almost hear his voice speaking the words.

𝑯𝒆𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖! 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒚 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆,  

𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒚𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕’𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒅. 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒕’𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕… 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘.  

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒓… 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖, 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊, 𝑻𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒌𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 — 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒚. 𝑩𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚?  

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊. 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑬𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓, 𝑰’𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕… 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚? 

𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊, 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔. 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔, 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚? 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚.   

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 — 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕,  𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖.

The tears spill over again, as they have these past few weeks and you clutch the letter to your chest, your heart aching with a mix of love and pain. You look over at Megumi, who’s watching you with a mix of understanding and his own quiet grief. He didn’t say a word for a while. He just let you cry, to let out the grief that you had been holding in for so long. 

"He… he always knew what to say, didn’t he?" Megumi murmurs, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah." you reply, your voice thick with tears. "He always did."

The weight of Satoru's absence presses heavily upon you, but the words on the paper offer a strange comfort, like a hand reaching out through the dark. You hold the letter tightly, almost as if you could draw him back with the force of your grip.

Megumi shifts beside you, his gaze distant. You sense he’s been wrestling with his own demons, carrying a grief he doesn’t quite know how to articulate. You remember the nights Satoru would tease him, ruffle his hair, and declare with exaggerated fondness that he was the son he never had. And you remember how Megumi would roll his eyes, always with that begrudging smile, the one that said he was secretly happy to have someone who cared so much.

"I don’t know what to do." you confess, your voice barely a whisper. "I don’t even know where to begin."

Megumi looks at you, his eyes softening in understanding. "Neither do I." he admits. "But… I think Gojo–sensei would want us to keep going. He’d hate seeing us like this, stuck in the past."

You nod, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "He was always moving forward, wasn’t he? Never stopping, not even for a second."

Megumi’s lips twitch into a faint smile. "Yeah, always dragging everyone else along for the ride." He hesitates, and then adds, "But… it wasn’t just him. You kept him grounded. You gave him a reason to slow down, even if just a little."

Your breath catches in your throat. You never thought of it that way — always felt like you were the one chasing after him, trying to keep up with his boundless energy and insatiable curiosity. But maybe, in your own way, you had been his anchor.

Megumi takes a step closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder, as if unsure whether to reach out. "He always talked about you, a lot. Even when you weren't around." he says softly. "Not in the way you'd expect. He’d get this look in his eyes, like… like he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have you."

You nod, finding some solace in his words. The two of you stand there for a moment longer, letting the silence settle around you, a cocoon of shared understanding. Then, with a deep breath, you fold Satoru’s letter carefully, as if it were the most fragile thing in the world, and tuck it into your pocket.

“I know.” you say gently, a faint smile on your lips. “I was the luckiest person alive too. To have loved him. To have been with him. To…To have a life with him.”

He turns his head slightly, just enough to glance at you out of the corner of his eye. There’s a flicker of something there — a mix of pain and doubt, hope and fear. He looks exhausted, like every breath, every moment, is a battle in itself. His hands unclench slowly, his fingers twitching like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them.

He closes his eyes for a moment, a pained expression crossing his face. “I don’t know if I can ever be what I was.” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

"That's okay." You whisper back. "You don't need to be whole to be yourself, Megumi. It's...enough. Being like this, for now."

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you see the tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to spill over. He’s still so young, you think, still so young to have been through so much, to carry so many burdens on his shoulders. You didn’t want this from him. You don’t want him to live with this for the rest of his life. 

“Do you think it’ll ever stop hurting?” he asks, his voice so soft it’s almost a plea.

You pause, considering your words carefully. “I don’t know.” you admit honestly. “I think… I think it might always hurt a little. But I also think that one day, the pain won’t be the first thing you feel. One day, you’ll wake up, and it’ll be a little easier to breathe. And then another day, and another… and eventually, you’ll find a way to live with it. To carry it without letting it crush you.”

He nods slowly, as if trying to absorb your words, to find some semblance of comfort in them. “I hope so.” he says quietly. “I really hope so.”

As you purse your lips into a tight line, Fushiguro Megumi turns his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the strain in his eyes. They’re the same eyes you’ve known for years, dark and brooding, yet now they seem dimmed by a weight too heavy for any young man to bear. His expression is weary, etched with the lines of battles fought not just against enemies but against the relentless tide of grief and responsibility that threatens to swallow him whole. 

You pause, taking in the sight of him. Megumi, who has always seemed so strong, so unyielding, now stands with his shoulders hunched, his frame pulled inward like a fragile fortress protecting a fragile heart. His hands, usually so sure and steady, are clenched tightly at his sides, fingers twitching with a nervous energy. 

The boy who faced curses without flinching now looks lost, as if he’s unsure of where to place his feet or how to hold himself together. You notice how his posture has shrunk into itself, his form smaller, more fragile than you remember. For a fleeting moment, he is not the stoic young man who bears the weight of the Zen’in name, but the boy you raised, the one who used to look up at you with a defiance softened by hope. 

Memories rush in, unbidden and raw. You remember the first time you took his hand, how tiny it seemed in yours, and the way he stiffened, wary of your touch. It took time for him to trust you, to accept the safety you offered in a world that had been anything but kind. He was so guarded, so determined to prove that he didn’t need anyone, but you had seen through the cracks in his armor, glimpsed the boy beneath who craved comfort and understanding.

Now, as you stand before him, you see that boy again. The boy who hid his hurt behind curt words and narrowed eyes, who watched the world with suspicion, waiting for it to turn on him. You see the boy who wanted to be strong, not just for himself but for those he cared about, who believed that if he could shoulder enough pain, he might somehow spare others from it. That same boy stands before you now, but the weight he carries has only grown heavier, pressing down on his shoulders until they sag with exhaustion.

You move closer, slowly, careful not to startle him. Megumi’s gaze flickers to you, and for a moment, something in his eyes softens, just a fraction. He looks at you as if he wants to say something, but the words catch in his throat, stuck behind the fear of vulnerability. You can see the battle waging within him — the need to be strong, to keep it all together, and the desperate longing to let someone in, to share the burden that’s breaking him apart.

“I…I’m sorry for putting you through what I did.” he whispers, so quietly you almost miss it. His voice is thick, strained with the weight of everything left unsaid.

It was hard seeing Megumi this way, you think. If anything, you still weren’t prepared to seek him out. You felt ashamed that you couldn’t do much for him. As much as you were also worried that he’d put himself at your feet, kneeling and in tears. Now your worst fear came to pass, that he would be apologizing to you for something that was not his fault. And so, you took that time — a long time, to just be alone and grieve. To let your husband’s soul rest in peace.

So your heart aches at his confession, and you step closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, drawing him into an embrace. At first, he resists, his body stiff and unyielding, but you hold firm, refusing to let go. Slowly, he relents, and he collapses against you, his head resting against your shoulder. His hands clutch at the fabric of your clothes, and you feel the tremble in his fingers, the suppressed sobs caught in his chest.

“It’s okay, Megumi.” you murmur, stroking his back in soothing circles. “You silly boy. Why are you apologizing for things that aren’t your fault, hm?”

His shoulders shake, and you feel the tears that he’s fought so hard to hold back finally spill over. He buries his face in your shoulder, his body wracked with silent sobs, each one tearing at your heart. You hold him tighter, as if you could somehow shield him from the pain, as if you could gather all the shattered pieces of him and put them back together.

He cries quietly, like he doesn’t want to be heard, like he’s afraid of what his grief might sound like if he lets it out. You just hold him, letting him take the time he needs, giving him the space to be the child you know he still is, beneath all that strength and stubbornness. 

And for that moment, you are back in time, comforting a boy who tried so hard to be brave, to stand tall in a world that felt too big and too cruel. You feel the years slip away, and you whisper to him like you did then, telling him it’s okay, that he’s safe, that he’s loved. 

Slowly, the tremors in his body begin to ease, and he pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at you. His eyes are red, and there’s a vulnerability there that you haven’t seen in years. “I’m sorry, Gen–san.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “I….It must be harder on you.”

You shake your head, cupping his cheek with one hand. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” you say firmly. “You’ve been so strong, Megumi. But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

He nods, his eyes closing for a moment as he takes a shaky breath. “I just… I miss him, Gen–san.” he admits, his voice breaking. “I miss them. Tsumiki…..I…I miss them both. And it’s…It’s my fault. If I had…”

“I know you do.” you whisper back. “I miss them too. And it’s okay to feel that way. But it was never your fault. You understand? This is not your cross to bear, hm?”

He looked at you, as though he was still unsure. But he nods again, and this time, when he opens his eyes, there’s a spark of something new there, a flicker of resolve. “Thank you.” he murmurs. “For… for being here.”

You smile softly, brushing his hair back from his face. “Always.” you promise. “I’ll always be here for you, Megumi.”

And as he leans into your touch, you realize that maybe, just maybe, he’s beginning to understand that he doesn’t have to face the world alone. That he has a family, even in the darkest of times, and that you’ll always be there to catch him when he falls. When he finally calms down, you look at him with a tender gaze. You rub the small of his back and coo towards him. You tell him over and over again that it’s going to be okay. 

THINGS HAVE CHANGED IN THESE MANY YEARS. But all the same, you were still just trying to get by without your husband. Just as you have done in the past fourteen years. Sometimes you can’t believe that it has been that long. Fourteen long years without his voice, his laughter, his warmth beside you in the dark of the night. Fourteen years of waking up every morning and remembering all over again that he’s gone.

Some days, it feels like he was just here, like you can still hear his footsteps in the hallway, the sound of his voice calling your name, teasing you with that easy smile that could always make your heart skip a beat. Other days, it feels like a lifetime has passed, like his memory is slipping further away with each breath you take, each step you take forward.

And sometimes, all you have to do is look at the world around you and see how much it has changed, even without Satoru. The world didn’t stop for his absence — it kept moving, kept spinning, kept evolving. The streets are filled with new faces, new buildings rise where old ones once stood. The skyline of the city looks different, the energy of the people has shifted, and even the quiet corners where you used to find solace now feel foreign and unfamiliar.

You think about the way he would have laughed at the way the world has moved on without him, how he would have been amused at the thought of being left behind by time itself. “Can’t keep up with me, huh?” he would’ve jokes, that mischievous grin spreading across his face, his bright eyes twinkling with that endless, boundless spirit of his.

But he isn’t here to see it — he isn’t here to laugh or joke or comment on the little changes that make up this new reality. And that’s what hurts the most, you think. The small moments that go unnoticed, the daily routines that feel emptier without him, the tiny, insignificant details that made life with him so full.

You were certain that today was one of those days — a day where the past and present seemed to blur, where the weight of what came before felt particularly heavy. The morning sun filters through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow across the table. You watch as the young clan leader, Gojo Satoshi, sits across from you, his posture a mix of youthful excitement and a hint of nervousness that he tries to hide. His eighteenth birthday has finally arrived — a day you’ve both been anticipating with a blend of joy and bittersweetness. 

For years, you’ve marked this date on the calendar, circled it with a smiley face as Satoru used to do. You remember the way he’d talk about this day like it was a grand milestone, his eyes lighting up with that familiar spark as he imagined all the things Satoshi would accomplish. And now, here it is — the day that seemed so far away, so impossible to reach, yet somehow arrived faster than you ever thought it would.

Your son had taken some time off from his responsibilities, from the pressures of the Gojo clan, just to be here with you. He’d insisted on it, saying he didn’t want to spend this day anywhere else. There’s a maturity in him that catches you off guard sometimes, a quiet strength that reminds you so much of Satoru, and yet he’s entirely his own person, shaped by all the experiences and lessons that life has thrown at him. 

At times, you catch yourself taking a moment to look at him. He was the spitting image of his father. Every bit of him was Satoru. From the way his eyes gazed at you, to the way he laughs. Everything was him. You think if your husband would be here now, it would have been hard to tell them apart. But, he was all you have of Satoru. And you were still grateful for it, even if it makes you cry sometimes.

“Mom.” he begins, and there’s a softness in his voice, a vulnerability that he doesn’t show often. “I… I’m glad I could be here today. I know it’s… a lot. For both of us.”

You smile, a warm, gentle smile that you hope hides the ache in your chest. “I’m glad too, Satoshi. I’ve been waiting for this day. Your father would have wanted it to be special.”

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes — a shadow of the loss you both carry, the empty space that Satoru left behind. You know this day is as much about celebrating as it is about remembering, about honoring the promise that Satoru made to him, to all of you.

And that’s why you’re here, sitting at the kitchen table, a letter in your hand — a letter you’ve kept safe for years, one with Satoru’s handwriting on the envelope, his familiar scrawl that brings a sting of tears to your eyes. The letter he wrote for Satoshi to open on his eighteenth birthday, a letter he wrote knowing he might not be here to read it himself.

You hold it out to him, your fingers trembling slightly, and Satoshi’s eyes widen. He recognizes it immediately, having seen it once before when he was a child, when you tucked it away with a promise that it was for another day, a day when he was older, stronger.

“Is this…?” he asks, his voice trailing off, almost afraid to finish the question.

You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “It’s from your father.” you say softly. “Megumi found it cleaning your father's office. It seems....your father wanted you to have something special when you're older."

For a moment, Satoshi just stares at the envelope, his fingers brushing over the edges, tracing the curve of his father’s handwriting. You can see the emotions flicker across his face — curiosity, sadness, a deep, yearning love. He looks up at you, and there’s a silent question in his eyes, one that asks if you’re okay, if you’re ready for this.

You give him a small nod, even though your heart feels like it might break all over again. “Go on.” you encourage. “Open it.”

With a deep breath, Satoshi carefully tears open the envelope, his hands steady despite the tremor you know he must feel. He pulls out the folded paper inside, and as he begins to read, you watch his face, the way his expression changes, softens, as he takes in the words that his father left for him.

There’s a chuckle, soft and low, that escapes his lips, and for a brief moment, it’s like Gojo Satoru is in the room with you both, his presence lingering in the air, his laughter echoing in the corners. Satoshi’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and he shakes his head, murmuring, “Of course he’d say that…” under his breath.

You can’t help but smile, a tear slipping down your cheek as you remember Satoru’s sense of humor, his way of making light of even the heaviest moments. You wonder what he wrote, what silly remark he must have made, what words he left behind to make his son laugh on this day.

But then, the laughter fades, replaced by a softer look, a look of longing. Satoshi’s eyes grow misty, and his smile wavers, his breath hitching in his throat. His hands clutch the letter a little tighter, his fingers pressing into the paper like he’s holding onto a lifeline.

“I miss him, a lot.” he whispers, his voice breaking, and in that moment, he looks like the little boy he used to be, the one who would climb into your lap and ask when his father was coming home. “I miss him so much.”

Your heart breaks all over again, and you reach across the table, pulling him into your arms. He doesn’t resist, burying his face in your shoulder, and you feel his tears soak through your shirt, hot and heavy. You hold him close, your hand running through his hair, whispering soothing words even as your own tears fall.

“I know, Satoshi.” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “I miss him too… every day.”

He clings to you, his body shaking with quiet sobs, and you let him cry, let him mourn, let him feel all the things he needs to feel. You know that this pain will never truly go away, that there will always be a part of both of you that aches for the man who isn’t here, for the father and husband who left too soon.

But in this moment, you also feel a deep, abiding love — a love that stretches across time and space, that binds you together even in the face of loss. You know that Satoru is with you, in every laugh, in every tear, in every beat of your hearts. And as you hold your son, feeling the strength of his embrace, the warmth of his love, you know that Satoru’s spirit lives on, in him, in you, in all the days to come.

You feel Satoshi’s grip tighten around you, his shoulders still trembling with the force of his emotions. You hold him closer, pressing your cheek against the top of his head, breathing in the scent of him, so familiar and comforting. He’s grown so much, become a young man with so much of his father’s spirit, and yet so much of his own unique strength.

“He would’ve been so proud of you, little dawn.” you whisper into his hair, feeling your voice catch in your throat. “Every day, he would’ve been so proud. I know he is… wherever he is.”

Satoshi pulls back just enough to look up at you, his eyes red-rimmed and wet with tears, but there’s a light in them — a spark of resilience, of determination, of love. “I hope so, mom.” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I hope I’m making him proud… and you, too.”

You smile, cupping his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his damp cheeks. “You are, Satoshi. You’re everything he could have hoped for… everything I could have hoped for.”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and you can see the way his expression softens, some of the tension easing from his features. “I just… I wish he were here,” he admits, his voice a broken whisper. “I wish he could see this… see me now.”

You nod, swallowing back your own tears, feeling the ache in your chest grow sharper, deeper. “Me too.” you confess. “Every day, I wish for that. But he’s still with us, Satoshi. In you, in me, in all the love he left behind. And as long as we remember him, he’ll never truly be gone.”

Satoshi nods slowly, taking in your words, letting them settle in the quiet space between you. You know it’s not enough to fill the emptiness, to ease the pain that sits heavy in both of your hearts, but it’s something — a small comfort, a small truth that you can hold on to.

“Happy birthday, Satoshi.” You greeted him with a small smile on your face. “You and your papa. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, mom.”

And so, you sit together in the soft morning light, holding onto each other, holding onto the memory of the man you both loved so dearly, trying to find your way in a world that has changed so much without him. You know it won’t be easy — it never has been — but you also know that you have each other, that you have the love he left behind, and maybe, for now, that’s enough to keep moving forward.

Just as you have for the past fourteen years.

Just as you will for the years to come.

YOU DECIDED TO VISIT THAT AFTERNOON. The pond is quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, the soft murmurs of the water lapping against its edges. You stand at the edge, looking out at the calm surface, watching as the light dances across the ripples. The air is thick with the scent of earth and pine, and there’s a serenity here that you haven’t felt in a long time — a stillness that settles into your bones, grounding you in the moment.

This was land that Satoru bought a long time ago, back when the world was still full of possibility, when dreams felt tangible and within reach. You remember the day he brought you here for the first time, the way his eyes sparkled with excitement as he talked about the future, about all the things he wanted to build, all the memories he hoped to create. 

He’d stood right where you’re standing now, his hands on his hips, looking out at the same pond with a boyish grin on his face. “This is it.” he’d said, his voice full of conviction. “This is where I’d be glad to build a family… a place to call home when everything’s said and done.”

You could hear the hope in his words, the unspoken promise of a life filled with love and laughter. He had dreams of children playing by the water’s edge, of long summer evenings spent under the stars, of a sanctuary away from the battles, away from the chaos.

And you had made that happen. For a while, you had built that family, that life, just as he’d wanted. You shared quiet mornings and loud, joyous evenings. You laughed, you loved, you lived. The memories still linger in every corner of this place, like echoes of a time that now feels so distant, so far away.

This is the place where you buried your husband — here, by the pond where he once stood dreaming of the future. It felt right, felt like honoring that dream of his, of giving him the home he’d always wanted, even in death. You wanted him to be where he’d always hoped to be, to rest in the place he had chosen for his family, his sanctuary. So you laid him to rest here, in the earth he once walked upon, beneath the trees that whisper his name in the wind. 

But you chose this spot for a reason. So that he’ll always be home, so that he’ll never be far from the place he loved most. You wanted him to have peace, to feel the tranquility of the land he cherished so much. And maybe, in some way, you wanted him close, wanted to be able to visit, to sit by his side and feel his presence, even if it’s just in the whispers of the wind or the quiet ripple of the pond.

You sit back, closing your eyes, breathing in the fresh air, and you imagine his laughter, his voice, his hand in yours. You can almost hear him now, teasing you about being sentimental, about spending so much time talking to a patch of earth. But you know he’d understand. He always understood you, even when you didn’t understand yourself.

You look out over the pond, the way the water reflects the sky, and you wonder what he would think of the world now, of all the things that have changed. You wonder if he’d still choose this place, if he’d still find it as beautiful as he once did. You like to think he would, that he’d still smile and say, “Yeah, this is home.”

One day, you think. One day, maybe you’ll be here too, resting beside him, sharing this place forever. Maybe one day, you’ll find your way back to him, and you’ll get to hear his voice again, feel his arms around you, and you’ll be whole again. Until then, you’ll keep coming back, keep whispering to the wind, keep holding onto the memories that this place holds.

And as the sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the water, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. Because here, in this quiet place, he is still with you. Here, by the pond he loved so much, he is still home.

You’ve walked this path more times than you can count, but today feels different. The air is heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken words and memories that cling to you like shadows. It has been fourteen years now, and in a few days, it will be official. But it was your husband’s birthday today too, and you think that maybe that’s why. Satoshi is eighteen and your husband isn’t here to see it. 

When you reach their graves, you pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The air is cool, the wind gentle against your skin, but there is a weight in your chest that feels heavier than any burden you’ve ever carried. 

Two simple stones lie before you, side by side, as if they were always meant to be together — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. Their names etched in the granite are stark against the soft earth, the bold characters cutting through the silence of the space around you. The sight is almost too real, too final, as if the reality of their absence is etched into the stone itself.

It was what Satoru wanted, you remember. He had told you that a long time ago, in a quiet moment, his voice uncharacteristically soft, almost pleading. “Promise me, if anything ever happens… that Suguru will be laid to rest too. That he’ll have peace.”

You’d nodded then, not thinking much of it, not wanting to entertain the thought of losing him. But now, standing here, you understand why. You understand why it mattered to him, why it was so important that they be reunited in the end.

They were best friends once — closer than brothers, bound by a shared past, by dreams of changing the world together. Even when their paths diverged, even when they became enemies in the eyes of the world, there was always something unbreakable between them, something that tied them together beyond the choices they made, beyond the mistakes and the betrayals. They were always two halves of a whole, two sides of a coin that could never be separated.

And now, in death, they are together again. You think it fitting, think it poetic in a way that only Satoru could have imagined. They both found their peace here, in this quiet place, far from the chaos and conflict that shaped their lives. And maybe, just maybe, they have found each other again, wherever they are.

You kneel down, your knees pressing into the soft grass, feeling the dampness seep through your clothes, grounding you, connecting you to the earth, to this place where they both now rest. You reach out with trembling fingers, tracing the characters of their names etched into the cold granite. The letters feel rough under your fingertips, each line a reminder of what was lost, of the lives that were lived with so much intensity, so much passion, so much pain.

“Satoru.” you whisper, your voice catching in your throat. It feels strange to say his name out loud, to speak to him as if he could still hear you. But you hope he can. You hope he’s listening, somewhere out there. “I’m back, my dearest.”

“I miss you… so much. Every day. I don’t know how to do this without you.” Your fingers move to Suguru’s name next, tracing the familiar curves and lines, remembering the way Satoru used to talk about him, the fondness in his voice even after everything that happened.

“And Suguru.” you add softly, “I hope you found peace too. I hope… wherever you are, you’ve found each other again. That you’re not alone. Stay together, hm?”

The wind picks up, rustling the leaves around you, and for a moment, you almost think you hear their voices — Satoru’s light and teasing, Suguru’s deeper, quieter, both of them laughing together like they did in the old days, when things were simpler, when the world hadn’t yet shown its darker side. It’s a sound that cuts through the quiet, a memory that tugs at your heart, bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

You press your palms flat against the grass, feeling the cool earth beneath your hands, grounding yourself in the present, in the reality of this moment. You close your eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, feeling the ache in your chest grow sharper, deeper. 

“I’m sorry.” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you… either of you. I’m sorry it came to this.”

But then you take a breath, slow and steady, and you remember what Satoru always said — that life goes on, that the world keeps turning, even when it feels like it’s falling apart. And you know he wouldn’t want you to stay here forever, trapped in the past, in the grief that feels like it might swallow you whole. He would want you to keep going, to keep living, to find joy again, even if it feels impossible right now.

You sit back on your heels, wiping at your eyes, feeling the cool breeze brush against your cheeks. “I’ll keep going.” you promise, your voice is stronger now, more certain. “I’ll keep living, for both of you. For all of us. But… one day, I hope I get to see you again. I hope we can be together again, somehow.”

The wind blows softly, carrying your words away, and you imagine them reaching Satoru, reaching Suguru, wherever they are. You imagine them smiling, together at last, watching over you, waiting for the day when you’ll be reunited. And in that thought, you find a small measure of comfort, a small piece of hope to hold on to.

So you stay a little longer, just sitting there in the quiet, in the space between what was and what is, letting the memories wash over you, letting yourself feel everything — the love, the loss, the longing. Because here, in this place, they are still with you. Here, by their graves, you are not alone.

You swallow, trying to keep your composure, but it’s hard. The memories rush back all at once — the sound of Satoru’s laughter, always so full and carefree; Suguru’s quiet, thoughtful gaze as he watches you both, always the more grounded of the two. You close your eyes for a moment, letting those memories wash over you, trying to hold on to the feeling of them, even as it brings a fresh ache to your heart.

“I miss you.” you say, your voice breaking on the last word. “Gods, I miss you both so much.”

Your hand drops to your lap, and you feel the sting of tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. The tears spill over, hot against your skin, and you don’t bother to wipe them away. You’re tired of pretending to be strong, tired of holding back the grief that’s been eating away at you ever since you lost them.

“I still can’t believe you’re gone, Satoru.” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I keep thinking… I keep waiting for you to walk through the door with that ridiculous grin on your face, like this was all just some terrible joke. I keep thinking I’ll hear your voice, calling out to me, asking me if I’ve missed you. Fourteen years and I still think like this.”

Your shoulders shake with a quiet sob, and you press a hand to your mouth, trying to stifle the sound. You feel the ache in your chest, the hollow emptiness that’s been there since the day he died. Every day without him feels like a wound that won’t heal, a pain that won’t lessen, no matter how much time passes.

“I miss you so much.” you repeat, your voice raw and broken. “I miss the way you used to make me laugh, even when I didn’t want to. I miss the way you’d wrap your arms around me, like you could protect me from everything. I miss your voice, your smile… I miss everything.”

You take a deep breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes as if to ground yourself. “Sometimes… sometimes I don’t know how to keep going.” you admit quietly. “I don’t know how to keep living in a world where you’re not here.”

Your gaze drifts to Suguru’s grave, and you feel another pang of sorrow. “I miss you too, Suguru.” you murmur. “I know you and Satoru are probably driving each other crazy up there… but I wish… I wish you were both here with me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears falling more freely now. “I’m trying to be strong, to be the person you both believed I could be.” you say, your voice trembling. “But it’s so hard without you. It’s so hard to keep going when all I want to do is just… just give up.”

You close your eyes, bowing your head, and let the tears fall, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The grief feels like it’s drowning you, pulling you under, and for a moment, you don’t know if you have the strength to keep swimming.

But then, through the haze of your tears, you feel a small flicker of warmth — a memory, a feeling, a sense of Satoru’s presence. You can almost hear his voice, playful and light, telling you to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep living. And you know, deep down, that he wouldn’t want you to give up. He’d want you to keep smiling, to keep finding joy, even in a world without him.

You lift your head, wiping at your tears with the back of your hand. “I promise I’ll keep going.” you whisper. “I’ll keep living, for both of you. But… one day…”

Your voice catches, and you swallow hard, forcing the words out past the lump in your throat. “One day, I can’t wait to see you again.” you say, your voice breaking on a sob. “I can’t wait to be with you again, Satoru. I can’t wait to hold you and tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his headstone, your fingers trembling. “Until then… I’ll keep you in my heart.” you whisper. “I’ll keep you both in my heart.”

The wind picks up once more, rustling the leaves, and for a moment, you feel a strange sense of peace, as if they’re both there with you, watching over you, telling you that it’s okay to grieve, to cry, to miss them. And as you sit there, letting the tears flow, you realize that they’re not really gone. They’re still with you, in every memory, every laugh, every tear. 

“I love you so much.” you whisper, your voice carried away in the wind. “I always will, my love. Happy birthday.”

And for the first time in a long time, you feel a flicker of hope, a small, fragile thing, but there nonetheless. A hope that one day, you’ll see them again, that one day, this ache will be replaced by the joy of being with them once more. Until then, you’ll carry them with you, every step of the way, until your paths cross again.

epilogue 

In the ethereal expanse of the afterlife, Gojo Satoru was causing a celestial commotion that even the most seasoned spirits couldn’t ignore. The gates of heaven, grand and imposing, were currently the scene of an unusual spectacle. Satoru was, quite literally, throwing himself against them, trying to push his way through the ornate barriers with a determination that bordered on absurd.

Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, and Haibara Yuta were standing a few feet away, watching with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Suguru was leaning against a nearby pillar, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. Nanami was rubbing his temples in frustration, and Haibara was trying very hard not to laugh.

"How long has he been at this?" Nanami asked.

"Since yesterday." Haibara snickered in response.

"I haven't had peace these past two days." Suguru sighed.

Satoru, his face pressed against the gates, was shouting, “GAH!? Let me out! I need to get back to Earth! They need me! I can’t just sit here while they’re struggling!”

Nanami, stepping forward with a calm yet firm tone, said, “Satoru, this is not a joke. You’re dead. You’re not supposed to go back. We’ve been over this.”

Satoru turned his head, giving them a pleading look. “But they’re my family! They need me! Can’t you see? I’ve got to be there for them!”

Haibara, trying to defuse the tension, added with a smirk, “Gojo–senpai, you know you can’t just break the rules. Besides, you have to admit, your dramatic exit would probably cause a cosmic mess.”

Suguru, barely containing his grin, stepped forward with a more practical suggestion. “Look, Satoru, there’s a much better way to be there for them without causing a ruckus. You can appear in their dreams. It’s a lot less disruptive and doesn’t require you to break through any divine gates.”

Satoru’s eyes lit up with realization. “Wait, really? I do that? Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

Suguru shrugged nonchalantly. “You didn’t want to listen to me at all. Plus, you were too busy trying to create a celestial catastrophe.”

Satoru paused, considering the idea. “I suppose appearing in their dreams is a bit more civilized. But—” he added, frowning, “—can’t I just pop back in for a quick hug or something? A kiss, more preferably.”

Nanami shook his head, still trying to keep his composure. “No, Gojo. That’s not how it works. You’ve got to accept that you can't do what you want now that you're dead.”

Satoru, with a resigned sigh and the roll of his eyes, finally stepped back from the gates. He still looks like a child when he pouts. “Alright, alright. I’ll do the dream thing. But I want to make sure they know I’m there for them.”

Haibara chuckled. “Great. Just try not to turn their dreams into a circus act. They need comfort, not more chaos, Gojo–senpai!”

Satoru grinned, his spirits lifting as he envisioned his new plan. “Got it. I’ll keep it heartfelt and fun. And maybe I’ll sneak in a few tricks here and there. You know, just to keep things interesting.”

As Satoru prepared to set off on his new celestial mission, Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara exchanged looks of weary amusement. They knew that, despite his antics, Satoru’s heart was in the right place.

“Good luck,” Nanami said dryly. “And remember, no cosmic disasters.”

Satoru gave them a thumbs-up. “You got it! And thanks for the advice, everyone. I’ll make sure they feel my love, even if it’s just in their dreams.”

With that, Satoru faded into a swirl of ethereal light, heading toward the dreamscape to reach out to you and Satoshi. Meanwhile, Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara watched him go, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement.

“Do you think he’ll actually follow through?” Haibara asked, still grinning.

Suguru smirked. “If anyone can turn a dream into a grand spectacle, it’s Satoru. But I have no doubt he’ll manage to bring some comfort, too. Well, somewhat."

Nanami sighed, shaking his head. “Well, at least we’ve managed to keep him out of trouble, for now. Let’s hope he sticks to the plan.”

And with that, the trio returned to their celestial duties, knowing that despite Satoru’s chaotic tendencies, his heart was always in the right place.

And just as promised, Gojo Satoru did indeed make his grand reappearance in your dreams and Satoshi's, weaving a spectral thread through the fabric of your nightly slumbers. The dreams, much like Satoru himself, were a mix of whimsical chaos and heartwarming moments.

In your dream, the scene was set in a familiar place — a cozy, moonlit garden that felt both nostalgic and surreal. There, amidst the soft glow of fairy lights and the gentle rustling of leaves, was Satoru, his usual nonchalant demeanor softened by a warm, affectionate grin. He was seated on a bench, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with the same mischievous gleam you remembered so well.

"Soooo." he began, stretching out the word as if he were about to launch into one of his signature lectures. "Miss me much? I bet you didn't expect me to show up like this."

You could only laugh, feeling a mixture of relief and joy. "Satoru... this is incredible. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come."

Satoru’s grin widened, and he leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. "You know me, always keeping my promises, even from beyond. Besides, I couldn’t let you and Satoshi have all the fun without me."

He gestured to the garden around you, which seemed to glow with a gentle, ethereal light, transforming it into a place of comfort and tranquility. It was as if he had crafted this dreamscape himself, blending his penchant for the whimsical with the tenderness of his love.

As you sat together, talking and laughing, the conversation flowed effortlessly. He shared stories from the afterlife, which he portrayed with his characteristic humor and flair, recounting celestial mishaps and the amusing antics of his fellow spirits. It was just like old times, but with a surreal twist — his jokes seemed to float in the air like bubbles, and his laughter was a melody that danced through the night. And then when it was time, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into an embrace and a kiss.

Satoshi’s dream was equally enchanting. He found himself in a fantastical setting, a blend of his own memories and Satoru's imaginative touch. The scene was a vibrant carnival, full of colors and laughter. Satoru was there, dressed in an elaborate magician’s costume, complete with a top hat and a flowing cape. He was performing tricks, pulling stars out of a hat and making cosmic confetti rain down on the crowd.

Satoshi watched in awe as Satoru performed, a look of wonder on his face. When Satoru finally noticed him, he winked and gave him a grandiose bow. "Hey, kiddo! Did you miss me? Hope you're enjoying the show!"

Satoshi’s heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of joy and longing. He approached Satoru, who enveloped him in a hug that felt strangely warm despite being a dream. Satoshi felt tears well up in his eyes, but he laughed, feeling a sense of comfort he hadn’t experienced in years. “I’ve missed you so much, Dad.”

Satoru ruffled his hair affectionately, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “I know, kiddo. I’ve missed you too. But you’ve grown so much. I’m proud of you. And I know your mom is too. You both are doing great.”

The dream continued with a playful sense of magic and wonder, filled with laughter and joy. Satoru’s presence, though fleeting, was a gift — a reminder that his love and spirit continued to be a part of your lives, even if only in the realm of dreams.

As the night drew to a close and the dreams began to fade, Satoru gave one last, heartfelt wave. “Remember, I’m always with you. In every laugh, every moment, and every starry night. I’ll be cheering you on from here.”

When you and Satoshi woke up, you immediately texted each other about the dream. And back in heaven, Gojo Satoru was pleased.

[corroded-hellfire]

Inked - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie loves the doodles from his favorite girls so much that he gets them permanently etched on his skin.

Note: Dad!eddie, mom!reader

Words: 1.8k

“I can’t study anymore,” you whine, dropping your head down on your kitchen table. 

Eddie watches you with an adoring smile on his face. He slides his hand over and snatches up the pen you were taking your notes with. A tapping on the back of your hair has you picking up your head and looking at your boyfriend.

“Take a break,” Eddie says, offering the pen to you. “Do a little doodling.”

“I don’t wanna mess up my notes,” you say with the most adorable pout Eddie’s ever seen. 

“On me,” he answers. He flips his arm over so you can draw on the inside of his right wrist.

“I dunno what to draw,” you tell him.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You wrinkle your nose in concentration, practically making Eddie fall in love with you all over again. Sometimes he feels like he has to restrain himself from telling you just how much you mean to him. He’s afraid he’ll scare you off if he tells you that he’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let him. 

An idea finally comes to you, and you hold his arm steady with one hand, and put the pen to his skin with the other. Your brow pinches in concentration as you drag the tip along to make the design. Eddie decides not to look until you’re finished, wanting to be surprised by your completed masterpiece. 

“Am I hurting you?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“Not at all.” 

“Almost done!”

“Take your time, baby.”

“Tada!” You lean back and put the cap on the pen. Eddie raises his wrist up to inspect your artwork. He grins at the little stick figure kitty cat you’ve drawn. 

“He’s perfect,” he tells you.

“She,” you insist. “She’s a female cat.”

“My apologies. She’s perfect,” Eddie corrects. 

“Thank you very much,” you say, pulling your textbook closer towards you, ready to study again. 

Between work and a family member’s wedding, you don’t get to see Eddie over the weekend. When he picks you up for school on Monday morning, he has a bright beaming smile on his face.

“Someone looks happy,” you say as you click your seatbelt into place. “You know we’re going to school, right?”

Eddie’s too excited, he can’t even find the words. So instead, he tugs up the sleeve of his leather jacket and shows you the inside of his wrist. At first you don’t understand what’s got him so worked up. It’s just the cat that you drew on him a few days ago, what’s the big deal? But you pick up on how the drawing doesn’t look the least bit faded after all this time. In fact, it looks a bit darker. The skin around the outline of the cat also looks raised and red. You suck in a harsh gasp as your eyes widen in realization.

“You got it tattooed on you?!” The pitch of your voice rings in Eddie’s ears and he lets out a chuckle.

“I did. Now I can look at my baby’s artwork anytime I want to.”

You want to tell him how absurd it is that he did this, that he might regret it later on. But you’re too overwhelmed by the fact that he got your cartoon permanently inked on his body. It’s not even anything meaningful, just a silly little cat. But to him, it was important enough to keep forever. Your eyes mist over, and you shake your head. 

“You don’t like it?” Eddie asks, his heart plummeting.

“Eds, I love it. I just can’t believe you’d do this for something I drew on you.” 

“There’s nothing I’d rather have on me,” he says. 

You unhook your seatbelt and launch yourself across the van at him. He laughs as he catches you, settling you in his lap as best he can. 

“I love you so much,” you mumble into his neck.

“I love you too, baby.” He tilts your chin up and presses his lips against yours. “Purr-ever.”

You wrinkle up your nose at the pun and shake your head. “No, we’re gonna have to come up with a name for this little feline. I will not stand for awful puns about her.”

Eddie laughs and nods his head in agreement. 

“We can do that.”

Ten years later, it’s a rainy Monday and Eddie’s trying to keep your four-year-old daughter entertained until you come home from work in a few hours. So far, they’ve played Barbies, Go Fish, and even watched The Little Mermaid twice. All after her day of preschool. 

Bailey’s now itching for another activity to amuse her and stumbles upon the box of crafts in her room. 

“Ooh, Daddy!” She shouts, even though he’s right behind her. “Can we color?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

He helps her carry the coloring books, crayons, and markers to the kitchen table. She spreads them all out, needing to see every last thing before she decides what she wants to work on. Settling on a Minnie Mouse coloring book, Bailey situates herself in her chair to get as comfortable as possible. Eddie selects a coloring book full of fairytales because he knows there are a few creatures in that one who remind him of D&D monsters. Father and daughter color in silence for a while, only the occasional hum of approval coming from either of them. Eddie glances over to see Bailey’s nose wrinkled up as she concentrates and her small tongue poking out of her pink lips. Traits she inherited from each of you right there on display. 

“Done!” Bailey announces once she’s finished her rendering of Minnie in a purple polka dot dress. Eddie looks over at it and nods appreciatively. 

“That’s real pretty, princess.”

Bailey flips through the pages but huffs when she can’t find another one that she wants to color. Eddie notices her impatience and quirks an eyebrow at her.

“What is it, rugrat?”

“Dunno what I wanna color,” she says, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped up on the kitchen table. Eddie decides to let her figure it out on her own, wanting her to be able to make her own decisions. He goes back to coloring his picture of a fairy, but before long he feels a poking at his arm. Turning his head, he sees Bailey giving him an adorable grin—the one she uses when she wants something. 

“May I help you?” he asks. 

“Can I color on you?” Bailey asks, eyeing the pale expanse of Eddie’s left arm that his Iron Maiden t-shirt leaves uncovered. 

“I guess so.” Eddie caps his marker and holds his arm out to his little girl. Bailey grabs a lime green marker and holds it above the skin on the side of his elbow. She stares, little brows furrowing together.

“Dunno what to draw.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Bailey thinks a few moments longer before lowering the marker, letting the green ink stain her father's skin. Eddie hears the front door of the apartment open and a giddy smile spreads on his face, excited to see you even though it’s only been a few hours. He can hardly wait as he hears you taking your shoes off and setting your things down. When you walk into the kitchen, you chuckle at the sight in front of you.

“What’s going on here?” you ask.

“Hi, Mommy,” Bailey says, not taking her eyes off of her creation.

“A little artist is at work,” Eddie says, holding his right arm out for you. You take his hand, and he presses kisses across your knuckles. 

“Tada!” Bailey leans back and puts the cap back on the marker. Eddie turns to see a bright green smiley face on the side of his arm, one eye bigger than the other, and squiggly lines coming from the top of its head. 

“It’s lovely,” Eddie says, grinning at his daughter.

“He’s lovely,” you correct him, knocking your hip against him playfully. “I love the squiggles on his head.”

“That’s his hair! It’s like Daddy’s!”

Now that she says it, the green spirals do resemble Eddie’s curls. 

“I love it, princess,” he tells her. There’s a proud smile on her face as she leans up and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

When you and Eddie are getting ready for bed that night, you chuckle when he takes his shirt off, giving you a better view of the green art. 

“Don’t be laughing at my new ink,” Eddie teases. “Best tattoo artist I ever had.”

“Oh, really?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“Okay, it’s a tie,” Eddie relents. He turns his arm so he can get a better look at his little Picasso’s work. “Think I’ll get this inked too.” The way he smiles so fondly at the marker design gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling. 

“She’d love that,” you say as you pull down the blankets on your bed. 

“Don’t be jealous,” Eddie says as he climbs in on the other side. “Dinah is still my favorite.” Your husband holds up his wrist to you, showing off the stick figure cat you drew back in high school. “Favorite tattoo, that is. She’s my second favorite pussy.”

Eddie barks out a laugh as you lean over and swat at him.

The next day, Eddie waits anxiously outside of Bailey’s preschool classroom. Kids could be blunt and would tell you if they didn’t like something. What if Bailey wasn’t happy he got her drawing tattooed on him? Would she understand the emotion and sentiment behind it? Eddie doesn’t have time to think about it before the door opens and a dozen munchkins are swarming around, trying to find their parents. 

“Daddy!”

“Bailey!”

She runs to him, arms raised, and he gladly snatches her up and holds her on his hip.

“How was school, princess?”

“Was good,” she answers.

He starts to walk out of the school with her, and when he gets out into the parking lot, he jostles her a little in his arms.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Okay.”

Eddie sets her down so she’s sitting on the trunk of the car and turns so she can better see his left arm. He tugs his sleeve up a little to give her a better view. Bailey grabs his arm in both of her small hands, making Eddie wince when she gets too close to the still-sensitive area. 

“I drew that,” Bailey points out. 

“You did,” Eddie says. “And this morning I got it tattooed on me.”

Bailey gasps and holds his arm even tighter. 

“You did?! My drawing is your tattoo? Forever?”

Eddie can’t help but chuckle at how awed she sounds. 

“Yeah, princess. Forever.” He turns to face her again and moves some of her unruly hair out of her eyes. “That’s how long I’m going to love you, too. Forever.”

“It looks cool, Daddy.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Cooler than Dinah the cat.”

Eddie laughs.

“Don’t tell Mommy.”

[elliesonlyhoe]

Loser!ellie headcannons .ᐟ ⭐

A/N .ᐟ First set of hcs..😭 lmk if y'all want a pt. 2

Loser! Ellie who lowkey has a collection of plushies that all have names, ages, and probably birthdays (specifically dinosaur ones)

Loser! Ellie Who could not flirt for shit the first few months you guys were dating.. But you on the other hand? Always trying to mess with the poor girl until she's a flustered mess.

Loser! Ellie Who had been too much of a pussy to ask you out for the longest time, just for you to already know she liked you.

Loser! Ellie Who still can't look you in the eyes without getting nervous.

You were sitting in the living room beside Ellie talking to her about how one of your coworkers had pissed you off today while Ellie was looking anywhere but you. “Els? Are you listening?..” You said, tapping your preoccupied girlfriend on the shoulder in order to get her attention.

 “I- I am…” Ellie mumbled, still looking away, the tips of her ears a bright shade of scarlet. You looked at Ellie noticing what was going on, you chuckled to yourself quietly “That's unfortunate.. My own girlfriend, the love of my life, doesn't even want to look at me? How upsetting..” You tease, as Ellie turns to look over at you, her cheeks a bright shade of red “I never said that!” She replies quickly before looking away once again “You're just.. so fuckin’ perfect..” Her own words cause her to be even more embarrassed prior to how much she was before. You try to hold in your giggles as you pull your girlfriend closer to you “I love you s'much, you know that?” you say in between your uncontrollable giggles “ I love you too..” she mutters back “And don't be a dick. Stop fuckin’ laughing at me” She adds before resting her head on your shoulder. You continue to giggle, which makes Ellie start giggling too. 

After a few moments of you two continuously laughing your asses off, you pressed a soft kiss on Ellies forehead. “Now, Tell me about your day, love.” You smile as Ellie begins to give you a rundown about everything she had done that day.

Loser! Ellie who has a separate sketchbook to fill with small doodles of dinosaurs, planets, and occasionally drawings of you.

Loser! Ellie who never fucking sleeps, like this girl will be up til’ late at night doing lord knows what.

Loser! Ellie who hates when you beat her at any game, girl will start making up the most random excuses as to why she lost, sometimes if you tease her about losing she even goes to the extent of giving you the silent treatment

Loser! Ellie who loves spooning (defo calls big spoon before you guys are even ready to head to bed, yet still ends up being little spoon sometimes.)

Loser! Ellie who acts like it's the end of the world when she accidentally interrupts you while you're speaking. Like I'm talking non-stop apologizing and always arguing with you on whether she should continue what she was saying or if you should finish speaking (you always find a way to win the argument nonetheless)

Loser! Ellie who has the humor of a middle school boy.

Loser! Ellie who probably eats lunchables 4/7 days of the week.

“Els, there's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry!” you callout before walking into the kitchen to see your girlfriend standing there like she got caught red handed, holding a half eaten pizza lunchable in her hand

“I'm not even surprised.” You say arms crossed, shaking your head slightly  

“What?! They're good!” Your girlfriend argues back, taking another bite of her mini pizza 

“Okay Els.” you chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully

“Hey! Don't roll your eyes at me..” Ellie scoffs “Don't knock it til' you try it.”

Loser! Ellie who has a backpack filled with space and dinosaur themed pins (also probably pins with corny ass memes on them.)

Loser! Ellie who either can't accept a compliment, or gets abnormally flustered by your compliments. (It all depends on the day tbh😭🙏)

Loser! Ellie who ADORES taking walks with you near lakes, creeks, and ponds. 

A/N .ᐟ I love Loser!ellie so much omdysss🙏❤

[bethelighthalazia]

Two fill better than one

Summary:  Your husbands San and Wooyoung have some very fulfilling fun with you. 

Genre: smut (MDNI)

Pairing: Dom!San x Wooyoung x fem!reader

Word Count:  982

Warnings: oral, unprotected sex, double penetration, slightly rough, little bit of aftercare

networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

“Shh, Do you hear this, Wooyoung?” San groans, placing his finger on his lips as he looks over to Wooyoung, who's watching the two of you, your head buried between San´s legs. The only sounds that could be heard were some sloppy, gagging sounds, your naked body convulsing when you feel his tip hit the back of your throat and causing you to almost choke on his cock.

“Shit, Sanie-” A whimpered moan escaped Wooyoung at this sight, his hand palming the bulge that formed in his pants. He had burst into the room while you and San had some fun and the pink haired male made his best friend watch. Sans free hand reaches down, his fingers grasp into your hair to pull you off his length, a mix of his precum and your spit connecting your lips to his crotch. “C’mon, let me have some fun too-”

Wooyoung's words alone let you wiggle your butt, your legs instinctively spreading a little more while being on all four, your head still hovering above San's hard cock. “Shut it, Wooyoung. I told you to wait. And you, jagi, should know better than to be a brat like him.” San hums, his hand caressing your cheek gently before giving it a slap. Sometimes, especially when Wooyoung is involved, you can get quite bratty. The slap stings, but it's not that painful. Even though San tends to be the rougher one between him and Wooyoung, he never truly hurt you. 

While San did this, Wooyoung had moved, only wearing his opened shirt, his hard member fully on display for you and San. His hands landing on your ass with a loud smack, drawing a squeak from you. “You've had your fun, Sanie! Besides, she's not yours only, all three of us signed the papers, remember?” Wooyoung's whiney voice let you groan, head tilting so you could shoot him a glance. However, this view just does something to you. His hair lazily brushed back, which accentuates his face even more, especially with his oreo hair. You actually had bribed his stylists to let him keep this hairstyle for a little longer.

Lifting his head a little, San reaches out to you, grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a kiss, he didn't care about tasting himself on your lips. While moving, you could feel his cock brush against your stomach, his tip perfectly aligned with your entrance. Wooyoung moved too, his hands still on your ass and you could feel his member pressing against your folds as well. 

“Boys no- hnng~ we tried that once…you both don't fi-” They don't let you finish this sentence though, drawing a screamed moan from you as they both chuckle and push at the same time, entering the same hole simultaneously. And you were right, both of them at the same time are too big. “Fuck-” Wooyoung's fingertips dig into your butt cheeks, pushing your body forwards a bit. When your hands slip on the ground, you find yourself nestled against San's chest, your lips connecting in a loving kiss as he wraps his arms around you. 

Both of them always make sure that you feel safe, you even talked about a safe word in the beginning of your relationship. You never needed it in the previous years of your relationship and you refuse to use it unless really necessary.

The first to move is Wooyoung, very slowly pushing his hips forwards. You could feel him rub against your insides, pushing deeper, but also pushing San deeper into you with this motion. It doesn't take much to tip you over the edge and cause a first orgasm to ripple through your body. Your walls squeezing them hard, both men let out a grunt, San´s head dropping back onto the ground as his hips instinctively move.

“Shi- y/n! Can't even take both her men properly, huh?” Wooyoung moans out in a challenging way, a smirk appearing on his lips when he looks at San over your shoulder. Then, with one fluent and hard thrust, he pushes your hips down. You can feel both their cocks pushing deep into your tight folds, spreading your walls. This is the first time they actually manage to make you squirt from an orgasm. When you're twitching heavily between them, both men chuckle, moving their hips in a steady pace to fuck you through your orgasm.

You could feel them falter after a few more thrusts, your walls squeezing them hard and it doesn't take much longer for both to reach their own orgasms as well, coating your insides in white. Heavily breathing, you just slump onto San, Wooyoung falling forwards and almost squeezing you between himself and his hyung, but he manages to catch himself. When the younger male slowly gets up from you, you feel him slowly pull out, drawing a quiet whimper from you. He breathes slowly for a few moments before he vanishes into the bathroom, San wrapping his arms around you, your whole body shivering and trembling still. 

“Lets get some rest, jagi…” San mumbles quietly, his breath going quickly and a deep moan escapes him when he moves and pulls out of you while sitting up. Your arms wrap around his neck instinctively when San gets up, his legs a bit wobbly as he walks over to the bathroom, Wooyoung opening the door, so you and San can enter too, so the three of you can share a bath. Wooyoung already had let in the hot bath, in which San sits down with you, your back leaned against his chest and then the younger also joins, smiling softly as he then kisses you and San. “I love you, boys. So so hmm- much.” You whisper with a loving expression, but soon, your eyes drop shut and you fall asleep in the arms of your beloved husbands.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix, @gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @jayshoneybee, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[throwawayhero]

hi!! could you do a kirishima bf headcanons? i feel like nobody ever writes for my boy, thank you! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Of course omg??? He doesn’t get the amount of love he deserves ong. One of the best characters imo, kill me if I'm wrong!! He’s been my favourite for YEARSSS and I will never get tired of him. Some of these are a bit random but I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

Eijirou!Kirishima who always walks to school and/or class with you. He’ll wait for as long as you need him to with little to no complaints (most of the time..)! He’ll just hang around in your dorm trying to look unsuspecting as he looks at your stuff while you rush to get ready. He especially loves to snoop through your trinkets.

“.. Hey, I didn’t know you still had this!”

“Neither did I..”

“Oh—“

Eijirou!Kirishima who actually takes care of his physical appearance/personal hygiene. He doesn't have a sociopathic 30 step skin care routine but don't be surprised when his bathroom drawer is full of hit or miss products that he's tried out. Will give tips about finding good products if asked about it. He always smells SO good. He also has hair products he uses to get the red dye to last longer.

"Hey, can I borrow this?"

"That made my skin super irritated, try this one."

Eijirou!Kirishima who always supports you and your hobbies, even if they only last a week. He's always up for being a test subject of sorts. Painting/drawing? He's ordering you top quality paints and pencils. Reading? Tell him about the characters, the drama, the romance, the plot twists, he's invested. Crochet/knitting? He's wearing the sweater you made him, even if it is a little bit itchy. Yoga? He bought matching yoga mats! He's ALWAYS supportive, now matter how extreme.

"Any other hobbies peaked your interest?"

"Rock climbing."

"..Sounds like fun!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who NEVER forgets to text you good morning/night. He forgot once and showed up to your dorm to apologise (You hadn't even woken up yet). Sometimes he sends little GIFs too.

'Good morning beautiful!! 💗💗💗'

Eijirou!Kirishima who has a highlight on instagram dedicated to pictures of you and things that remind him of you. He doesn't really post on social media, but when he does, 80% of the time it's about you. He also sends you a bunch of those lovey-dovey quotes from Facebook. His captions on photos are always so sweet.

'Spent the day Go-Karting with my beautiful girlfriend! Can't believe how lucky I am! #gokart #love #girlfriend'

Eijirou!Kirishima who is the KING of PDA, to an extent of course. He will kiss you anywhere, in front of anyone. Oh my GOD does this man know how to give good hugs. He's always holding your hand/wrist/finger no matter what you're doing. You could be on a walk, in a line, grocery shopping, or just sitting down together. He's always by your side :)

"..Can you let go of my hand so I can scan the groceries?"

"No but I'll help you!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who GUSHES about you to his friends. This man is head over heels and everyone knows it. He doesn't necessarily believe in soulmates but he does believe that you were the one he was meant to find. He gets this horribly happy look on his face when he thinks about a future with you that everyone can't help but laugh at. He talks about said future all the time.

"When do you want to get married?"

"..What?"

"I wanna know when to start editing my vows."

"..Editing??"

Eijirou!Kirishima who is a bit of a restless sleeper. And when I say restless, I truly mean it. This man will roll on top of you and just lay there, sprawling out and snoring happily. You have been and will continue to be kicked. One time you had woken up to him rolling off the bed.

"You slapped me in your sleep last night."

"Oops. You should've slapped me back!"

"I did."

Eijirou!Kirishima who goes all out on dates. He'll take you to a fancy restaurant and wear a suit and tie with his hair done nicely. He'll ask you to wear something pretty beforehand so that you know not to underdress. He arrives at your house/dorm with flowers and the biggest smile you'll ever see (besides your wedding day). He'll treat you like the princess you deserve!

"You're stunning, hun.. where would I be without you?"

[hayesflint]

Hello! I just wanted to say that you draw zeb really really well and I wanted to ask if you have any tips for how to draw him or a reference guide?

thank you anon!!! hell yeah i do!!! this is a somewhat chaotic braindump, but it has everything i keep in mind while im drawing him.

I've slowly made all these thru doing little studies, so I really recommended doing your own on areas you struggle with. You'll learn so much more that way than just reading this, but I hope that mine can help you for now!! Doing studies where you write little notes to yourself like this is an absolute game changer when it comes really understanding your subject.

I also use this messy head turn around I complied hahaha

but its not super extensive so i'll often look on pinterest or cap-that.com if i need a really specific reference.

sometimes, i'll resort to using my figure as reference, bit its not very accurate. I know others use the black series figure, so that's an option as well!

something else I do if im going thru a tough patch with getting my drawings to look right, or feel like him, is to do my timed warm up exercise but with zeb. Not an art piece, just some gestures to familiarize myself with him.

Thank you anon!! I hope these help!!

[gloomwitchwrites]

*stumbles breathless through your door*

I SAW YOU'RE ASKING FOR STORY REQUESTS!!

*fixes the Caps button*

Sowwy!!

Anyway!!

Please can I ask for:

1. Lord of the Rings

2. Bathing (innocent)

3. Thranduil

4. I leave free hand to you. Just some nice relaxing bath with his love (can he his new queen or soon to be) some pampering with hair and skin care, something along those lines. Fem!elf!reader if I may ask that!

xoxo Firelight

That entrance into my ask box is a solid 10/10. No notes. Just perfect.

Technically, I’m not taking story requests, but I am taking headcanon requests for all the fandoms I write for. So, this will fall into the “what are Thranduil’s bathing habits” realm. So like, what he does alone and with a partner. But it’s obviously on the innocent/fluffy/romantic side of things.

Personally, I’m all about a soft Thranduil who knows how to pamper himself and his partner. I've kept this one on the gender neutral side.

Word Count: 585

1k Follower Event Rules

ao3 // taglist // 1k follower event masterlist // main masterlist

Thranduil’s bathing habits when he’s alone:

A bath is Thranduil’s reset. There is no one that attends him during this time. It’s a chance for him to slow down and to let go of the pressures of the day. When I mean that no one attends him, I mean no one. It is he that fills the tub with water. Not one of his subjects. Thranduil uses that time to disconnect and to think only of the task at hand. He is always making choices, giving orders, and overseeing the wellbeing of all. Filling the bath is a moment of peace. There are no responsibilities here.

Thranduil soaks before he scrubs or washes his hair. He will close his eyes, tip his head back, and rest. This could take a few minutes or even ten before he opens his eyes again and begins the process of lathering up some soap.

Thranduil washes his body first before his hair. The soaps and scrubs he uses are always made from ingredients that are found within the Woodland Realm. He is resourceful in that regard. That same goes for his hair. Anything and everything are sourced from the forest, if possible.

Thranduil reads in the bath (if it’s just him).

Usually doesn’t eat but might have a snack. There will always be wine. That’s nonnegotiable.

Doesn’t remove himself from the tub until the water has gone cold. He likes to stay in as long as possible.

Loves a warm towel afterward.

Thranduil’s bathing habits when he’s with a partner:

Similar to how he draws the bath from himself, Thranduil will do the same for his partner. It’s an act of service, but also a way he shows affection. He wants to do it, and he always makes sure to have it done before they can arrive to bathe themselves. He might seek help from an attendant to prepare other items like candles or fetching wine and food, but Thranduil likes to do most of it himself.

Because of who he is and all the things he must do in a day, a bath is his time to reconnect with his partner. During this time, they are alone, and are unlikely to be interrupted. Truly, this is the only time for Thranduil to spend time with his partner since most of his day is spent taking care of his people.

Whoever Thranduil is with, they are not to lift a finger. This is about them, not him, and he goes to great lengths to make that happen. His favorite thing to do is recline in the tub with his partner leaning against him. This way, Thanduil can cuddle them but also take care of them. It’s the best position to wash their body and their hair.

He is prone to gentle touches, almost an absent-minded sort of motion. He does it without having to think about it. Skin against skin is usually what he needs and not in the physical sense of need. Connection is more important here.

Thranduil enjoys conversation but it is not a requirement. Sometimes just being in each other’s presence is enough.

Thranduil will not allow his partner to do anything for themselves while in the bath. Won’t get angry about it but he might have a twinge of attitude if they keep resisting. Thranduil just wants to take care of them.

Will make sure his partner removes themselves from the bath before they grow cold.

Thranduil will insist on drying them himself.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot

@firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath @therealbloom @ninman82

@thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

[sminiac]

can u write about giving bonedo legal line head pleaseee 😭😭😭 im such a giver like i need to make them feel good thank you!!!!

💌— I’VE BEEN REALLY STRUGGLING W WRITING LATELY BUT OFC :3

⋆ P. Sungho

Funny enough, I see Sungho as more of a giver. Something about him emits that he loves being able to take care of his lover— but don’t get me wrong, he allows himself to enjoy when you’re the one using your mouth, the only problem is he gets too restless knowing how needy it makes you, your impatience makes him impatient. Gets off on the internal image of giving you head just so the process will be finished faster, and it’s a bad habit, he knows, but you deserve to feel just as good. In short he allows you to do it whenever you ask, and it feels good, of course it does, but he’d much rather be settled comfortably between your thighs, his skin drenched thickly in your arousal, sometimes it makes you wonder if he just enjoys constantly having a locked jaw too?

The only time you can really go through the process of having him cum undisturbed is early in the morning when he’s half awake, struggling to sleep past the feeling of his aching cock. In his drowsy, refusal of day state he’ll let you do it without any convincing that you need the attention more than he does, he’s just much too tired to talk, and to put in the actual effort to have you submitting to his insistence, but he’s still awake enough to give you the ‘go ahead’ when your fingers start drawing feather light touches across his lower tummy, it takes a little while, but eventually he’ll be bucking his hips up and whispering a desperate “Please, honey.” You’ll know he’s close when his big hand finds the top of your head and his back is slightly arching from the mattress, breathlessly stuttering out: “Fuh- fuck, baby. God, oh my, fuck.”

Remainder of members under the cut!

⋆ L. Riwoo

Riwoo likes someone with a level head and a persistent drive because then he doesn’t have to think about a single thing other than you and the way you make him shake and quiver once you’re sunken down, laving hotly at his tip, paying attention to all the right places at once. He won’t say it aloud but he also really likes when you’re messy, calculated in every other aspect as expected, but allowing yourself the freedom of salivating all over him, the sight of it, the feeling, it’s almost like a confidence boost seeing you so into pleasuring him, the way the warm mix of liquids seep out of the corners of your mouth and cover his skin, he’s very adamant about eye contact when he’s not being shy.

If you’re enjoying yourself then he enjoys it all the more! Here and there Riwoo doesn’t mind a pinch of exhibitionism, giving him head in the shower of the dorm or when you’re at his house really gets him going. The fear of someone hearing his pathetic whimpers, catching onto whatever the two of you do behind closed doors— he runs so high off of it, his hips unapologetically slipping his cock in and out of your mouth, the anxiety in his stomach conjoint with the kick of his orgasm approaching always has him shifting gears, sweet sweaty boy just absolutely fucking your mouth with reckless abandon.

⋆ M. Jaehyun

He’s so yappy and adorable! Absolutely cannot keep his mouth shut for the life of him when you’re swallowing around his dick, treating him so delicately, like he’s the prettiest, most delicate thing you’ve ever laid your hands on. The doting and the loving on really makes him so horny though, like, so bad that you can’t tell him he’s pretty whilst looking at him a certain way or he’ll get so whiny about it. The flood of affection being only meant for him makes his limbs so restless, there’s too much good feelings and sweet words that he doesn’t know how to receive it, even more when you’re offering to get on your knees for him.

Jaehyun doesn’t take your certainty of wanting to give any kind of way that’ll make you feel like it’s intended to be degrading, there’s no hidden agenda or kept in thoughts, he’s simply liquid in your hands, takes whatever you have to offer so graciously while still being assuring that he wants it just as bad as you do. He’s so visually pleasing too, doesn’t understand the effect that his shuttered cries and restless legs have on you, every time you have him in your mouth he refuses to look or he’s cumming on the spot, so his eyes are closed most of the time, he’s so :( also has a thing for the feeling of your nails dragging against the soft skin of his thighs, cries and cries from the stimulation, could probably cum from that alone but he’s too embarrassed to find out.

⋆ H. Taesan

A recorder. He is a sluuuut !! Literally asking whenever he can if it’s okay for him to record. Such a freak that even when he’s not horny he’ll be watching back the videos of you giving him head, whenever he’s in the back of the van going to prerecording’s his hidden folder is quickly being pulled up, you’re just so pretty and you always do so good for him, he feels almost this sense of pride? Like “Yeah that’s my girl, she’s so beautiful. Head game is crazy btw!” He just has to brag about you in every way, idk 🙄. Likes when you give him head in ridiculous places and situations too, the back of the car, on an airplane, after shows, before shows etc. and he records those too of course, talks to you in a hushed tone with the phone flash all in your eyes, “Fuuuck- s’good princess. Keep doin’, doing that, please.”

Taesan is such a physically reactive person, it’s like everything the normal human feels he feels 5x stronger. Will unintentionally make you gag and tear up by how much his hips unwillingly twitch and push when he’s close to cumming because of this. He does his best every time to try and stop it, but it’s hard to stop something that’s not done with a conscious effort. Admittedly though, every inch of your mouth he’s been allowed to touch feels amazing, but he’s come to find that the back of your mouth is an especially important part.

⋆ K. Leehan

The most likely to head push, idk if it’s because of how pretty he is but something about him is so intimidating? He brings that same exact energy to bed too, plays into it, likes seeing you flustered and stupid. Yk how it’s always the people you least expect to have crazy experience when it comes to sex? Yeah, literally him. Like he’ll be teaching you shit you would’ve never learned if it was someone else’s dick in your mouth, “Lick it like that” “Use your fingers like this baby” or “More pressure pretty, don’t be shy.” Absolutely intends to build your abilities so they pertain only to what he finds pleasurable. Even the way he talks to you, it’s so entertaining but not in a humorous manner, he knows just what to say and how to say it for the success of getting you squirmy and impatient.

Since he knows how shy you get Leehan purposely makes eye contact with you as much as he can, will caress the top of your head and the soft of your cheek that the tip of his cock pokes into as he talks sweetly to you. Asking if you’re having fun, if he tastes good. He’s such a mouth fucker, I can’t. If you’re giving him the go ahead to use you he does exactly that. The most talkative out of everyone, keeps your ears entertained with his grunts, moans and his thoughts, but he keeps your mouth even more busy. It’s impossible for him to become bored, he feels the same excitement every time you go down on him that he felt the first time it happened.

[sabertoothwalrus]

How did you get so good at drawing such expressive bodies/faces??? tell me your secrets!! (But srsly your skills are amazing)

AAAA THANK YOU!!

I think my initial inspiration was about 10-11 years ago watching Adventure Time and finding Rebecca Sugar’s boards. Sometimes I get a little frustrated because she gets so much more notoriety than the other very very amazing AT boarders, but….. her expressions man…. she was always able to convey so much with SO LITTLE. (SU’s expressions are on another level of course, but I think AT’s are just so impressive to me because they’re dot eyes)

But the thing is!! I’m also a fan of deadpan. Which AT also does very well. It’s tempting to want to do BIG, extreme expressions at every moment, especially in comedic comics, but you really don’t need to. I find that characters often feel more expressive if you reel it in more often. That way, when you DO have bigger expressions, they FEEL bigger!

for example, a panel where the contrast between big and subtle expressions sells the contrast:

I don’t really,,,, know exactly what I do that works, ?? I kind of just like, think of the emotion I wanna convey, make the expression, think about what my face feels feels like, and try to convey that. Using a mirror helps!! You’ll feel a little stupid but it’s funny.

some misc expression tips:

Definitely prioritize eyebrows, eyes, and mouths!

Noses aren’t as important BUT flared nostril can totally sell an expression, so it depends!

Remember that your upper jaw is stationary, and your lower jaw can move, and then your lips and cheeks can move all around that!

Just subtly changing the placement of eyelids and location/size of irises can completely change an expression

Don’t be afraid to make your characters look weird or stupid.

Don’t reinvent the wheel! Take reference from different media you like that stylize expressions in different ways, and find what works for you. I take a lot of inspiration from AtLA

Again, NUANCE! Like, when most people are sad, they do their very best to try NOT to cry. People hold things in. Sometimes what characters don’t say can speak louder than what they do.

some expressions I’ve done that have varying levels of nuance:

Also framing!! You can use the composition to help project how the character feels:

As for body language!

Having a better sense of three-dimensional form and anatomy isn’t necessary, but it sure helps a lot

Hands!! I have adhd and my family is italian so I use my hands a lot when I talk. But even still, most people don’t just leave their hands hanging loosely by their sides. People cross their arms and fidget with their zippers and put their hands in pockets.

Head, neck, and shoulders. If you can master the foreshortening of these overlapping shapes at most angles, you will be very powerful

Hips & feet!!!!! People RARELY stand straight with both feet flat on the ground with even balance. Most people will shift their weight to one hip, leaving one leg looser and at an angle. It also helps to practice perspective, because people also rarely stand with their heels lined up side by side. One leg may get kicked foreward or loosely bent backwards. I sometimes cross my legs when I stand.

Ultimately, if you want more lifelike expressions and poses, study from life!! Don’t worry about your drawing being “good” or “bad”, instead think about what can make it successful. Ask yourself, “is this conveying the expression I want to convey?” and if it’s not, figure out what you need to change to get it there.