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lostfracturess · 19 hours ago
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LAST DECEMBER MORNING — SATORU GOJO
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pairing — satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader
summary — on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you — it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.
word count — 5.4 k
warnings — heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending
author's note — this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3
masterlist
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Winter had never felt so much like an ending.
You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.
Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.
It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.
You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.
You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.
The normality of it all was almost cruel — how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.
"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.
"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day your— whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."
He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"
"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."
"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetings—"
"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"
He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"
"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."
"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recall—"
"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."
The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."
He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."
"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."
"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"
"Satoru—"
"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"
"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."
He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."
"That's not funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."
"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."
"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"
You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."
"I was trying to impress you."
"You're always trying to impress me."
"But it's working, right?"
You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.
For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.
It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. You’d seen him fight before—who hadn’t?
But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.
A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.
Something in your chest cracked at the sight — not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.
You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.
“Trying to steal my spotlight?” he’d joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. “I’m the only one allowed to look cool here.”
You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.
Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.
“You’re angry,” he said, not a question but a statement.
“I’m not angry.” You were furious. “I’m just wondering how someone who’s supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.”
He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. “Worried about me?”
“You wish.” But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.
“Liar,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.
Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true — he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.
“Fuck,” you summarized eloquently.
He laughed, the sound low and rich. “That could be arranged.”
“Satoru.” You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you. Because I’m me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.”
“I’m only hearing excuses.” He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Not actual reasons.”
And that was how it started — with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.
Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was — flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.
Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.
You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.
It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.
Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then he’d come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing he’d been.
He’d find ways to touch you in public that looked casual — a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.
And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona — the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.
Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, you’d wonder if you’d imagined everything between you.
But then night would fall, and he’d show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. He’d kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.
You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way he’d hold you after a close call, in the way you’d trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.
Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, he’d tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyone’s last hope.
He’d whisper his fears into your skin — not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.
You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.
You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasn’t for show, where your touch wasn’t professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.
But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.
Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this — one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.
The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all — loving someone the world needed more than you did.
"Promise me something," you said then.
"Hmm?"
"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."
He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.
"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."
"That's not what I asked."
"It's the only promise I can make."
"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."
"Don't you?"
"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"
"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."
"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."
His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."
"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"
"Someone has to."
"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back to—" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.
"To you?" he finished softly.
"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."
He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.
"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."
You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."
"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"
"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"
​��"This is different—"
"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"
His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes — doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.
"Because I can't protect everyone—can't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.
The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru — to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.
"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."
"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."
"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"
"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."
"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."
"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"
"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"
The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies — you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.
You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.
Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.
"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?”
He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want to—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."
"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"
"Since I realized loving you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."
"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."
"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"
"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."
"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."
"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"
"This isn't your fight."
"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."
He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."
You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."
His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."
"Don't pretend those are the same thing."
He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had — all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.
His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.
"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."
"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."
"You'll move on. You'll find someone—"
"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."
"I'm just trying to—"
"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."
"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to say goodbye? Make it messy and painful and real?"
"I want you to stop pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."
The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name — vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.
You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.
Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.
But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.
He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.
"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful — exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.
You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.
Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.
He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."
The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.
You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared — whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.
How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.
Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him — about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.
"I hate you," you whispered.
He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."
"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."
His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.
He didn't.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.
"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.
The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.
But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.
The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.
Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?
But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?
If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?
The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.
Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?
Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy — not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.
You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.
Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.
Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.
Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.
But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was — a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.
But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.
You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was — not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.
The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.
Even when they choose the world over you.
The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.
But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.
Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo — even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.
After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.
The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.
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author's note — thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3
ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!
tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna
@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia
@janbannan @bloopsstuff
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astralis-ortus · 2 days ago
Text
spoiled
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— it really is in the little things he does.
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w.count → 0.5k genre → slice of life, fluff notes → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe, teeny weenie kith a.n → been feeling sappy whenever i see chan, and what’s the best cure if not to write about it♡ ⋆ see masterlist
growing up, you never really thought much about relationships.
well, it's not like you had the breathing room to do so anyway—with your parents' strained relationship and the way education had taken over the role as your safe space, the thought about crushes, falling in love, and jumping from one relationship to another like people around your age had resembled more like some faint, annoying whispers from the nether world rather than something you needed to experience as a young adult. instead, your goal revolves simply around graduating, getting a good job, and sticking with that—nothing more, nothing less.
well, that's exactly what you've managed to do so far…
with some minor adjustments.
"babe, do you want—oh, you're about to shower?"
you stopped a few steps from the door of the bathroom, eyes finding your boyfriend's curious pair just beyond the bedroom door while your arms hugged the fresh pair of pyjamas and a fluffy towel chris had bought for you a few months prior, right before your first sleepover at his place.
it still feels wild to you, the way chris just popped into your life one day and somehow managed to stay. the fact that you let him? even wilder. never in a million years would you ever thought you'd walk into your first and somewhat of a serious relationship not long after landing your first actual job, fresh out of university.
"yeah," you nodded, repeatedly blinking your eyes out of habit, "do you need to go? i might take a while since i'm gonna wash my hair."
"no no, i'm good," he replied, no longer looking at you when he turned busy, fumbling away at the cabinet under his kitchen sink, "but wait, there's something i want—found it!"
the curiosity in your eyes turned into sparkles of surprise when you noticed the rather familiar bottle in chris' hand as he heads over in your direction, sweet pair of dimples decorating his proud, cheeky smile.
"i got that body wash you said you wanted to try," handing the green colored bottle, chris lightly scrunched his nose alongside the click of his tongue, "kinda unfortunate—i was going to surprise you with it, but you beat me to the shower."
it's at times like this when you feel like your life in the past year has merely been a series of lucid dreams—when he looked at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, when he treats you like you're his entire world and more, when chris went out of his way just to prove that he meant everything he whispered in your ears between the ungodly hours of the night as he held you close when nightmares crept its long and sharp nails around your neck.
chris' affection still feels like a fever dream, and you don't know if you deserve to be at the receiving end of it at all.
"you're seriously spoiling me way too much, christopher," you finally chirped a response, mirroring your boyfriend's nose scrunch whilst keeping your unspoken worries locked away, "but thank you. i promise i'll use it well."
"i know you will," the dimpled smile made its way back to your boyfriend's features, igniting the familiar fuzzy feeling in the depths of your chest, and its rumble only grew louder when chris leaned in, faint scent of vanilla greeted you as he stole a peck from your lips,
"you know that's why i love spoiling you, right?"
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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guilty-pleasures21 · 8 hours ago
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i have this fun take that jason works his crime lord stuff at warehouse with his goons however none other bats could go in (he forbids it) except the bat theme vigilante! reader. Sometimes the reader just go there, whether visit him to help her with her cases or annoy jason bc ofc she can, well she is his best friend slash badass girlfriend. However sometimes his goons just wondering what are their relationship without prying too much on their boss’ life. I would hope you like this request (if youre in the mood to write it) and I hope that makes sense tho because english is not my first language
The warehouse
Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry I took so long, babe! I was racking my brain every night trying to come up with a coherent storyline 😅! This is fun though! I like to imagine Reader just making Jason look silly, but he allows it because he’s head over heels for her!
Warnings: implicit descriptions of sex (male x female).
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     She burst through the roof and landed on the balcony overlooking the interior of the old abandoned factory. Well, ‘abandoned’ was more like it: the space was filled with busy men who had frozen in their tracks to stare up at her in horror. X placed her hands on her hips and fixed them all with her most threatening frown. “I demand to speak to your boss!”
     “Right here, princess,” the Red Hood sighed from behind her. X turned around and her face lit up immediately when she saw him, burly arms folded across his chest, his rugged features probably arranged into an exasperated look beneath his helmet. She took a step closer to him and her brows crashed together again as she placed her hands on his bulky shoulders. 
     “You know I don’t like it when you wear your helmet, Hood,” she whined, purposefully making her voice all high-pitched. “Why don’t you wear your mask?” 
     Jason let out another weary sigh and wrapped an arm around her to start guiding her in the direction of his office. 
     “Keep going, everyone,” he assured his henchmen, “I’ll handle this.” 
     His goons exchanged confused glances with one another, but quickly returned to their operations as their boss led the hero away. Jason locked the door behind him once they were safely inside his office, then he focused his full attention on X. “What are you doing here?” 
     She leaped onto his sofa and lay back, stretching herself out so her suit clung tightly to her every curve. Jason’s eyes followed the lines of her body, admiring her lush figure, and his hands began to ache with the need to run all over her soft skin. X grinned, completely aware of the effect she was having on the tough vigilante. 
     “I wanted to see your handsome face, Hood!” she replied, still using that ridiculously innocent tone on him. “But since you’re wearing your helmet …” 
     She pursed her lips, as if disappointed by her fruitless journey, but then she propped herself up on her elbow and lowered her eyes to his torso instead. “I guess I’ll just have to admire your delicious body instead.” 
     Jason swallowed down the saliva that gathered in his mouth at the way she licked her lips while her eyes trailed over him. Thank God he was wearing his helmet or she’d be able to see the way the tips of his ears and the back of his neck reddened otherwise. He cleared his throat and glanced away from her, calming himself down before removing his helmet. He was still wearing his mask underneath, concealing his identity from anyone who didn’t already know him, but it was enough of a glimpse of his face to keep his girlfriend happy. X grinned and rolled over onto her stomach, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. Jason pulled his gaze away from her again and cleared his throat. “You could have just waited at home, sweetheart.” 
     X pushed herself to her feet and walked over to Jason. She slid onto his lap and her fingers immediately made their way into his hair. She pulled on the strands gently, tugging his head back and forcing his lips to align with hers. Her mouth watered in anticipation of feeling the rough ridges of his wide lips brushing across hers, but she forced herself to look away and get up again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to resist kissing him if she’d glanced up and seen the way his pupils dilated whenever he was looking at her mouth. And, shit, he was such a good kisser that she always found it impossible to drag herself away from him once they got caught up in a heated makeout session. X hopped up onto the edge of Jason’s desk and pulled a thumb drive out of one of her pockets. 
     He raised an eyebrow as she held the small drive out to him, her lips twisted into a begrudging smirk. “What’s this?” 
     X crossed one leg over the other as he plugged the drive into his computer, lightly trailing the tip of her boot along the inside of his muscled thigh. “How trusting, Red Hood. How do you know I didn’t just hand you a virus I could use to hack into your computer and get all your contacts?” 
     Jason’s gaze flickered up to her and his eyes were immediately pulled to her chest, her luscious curves on full display. He pushed aside the desire rapidly pooling in his core and fixed her with a knowing look. 
     “Did you want all my contacts?” He grabbed her ankle and held her leg in place so he could sneak his thumbs beneath her tights and begin rubbing small circles along her bare skin. “You know all you’d have to do is ask, princess.”
     She closed her eyes as the low murmur of his voice danced along her bones. He was always so smooth and so put together that she relished every chance she got to have the upper hand over him. X bit down on her lip as Jason kept his grip on her foot, using the pain to distract herself from his featherlight touches, but finally, she opened her eyes to sneak a peek at him. His tongue darted out from between his lips as his hungry gaze travelled over her body and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down the saliva rapidly gathering in his mouth. He looked up at her and smirked when he caught her gaze trained intensely on him. X gulped at the smug look on his face and quickly pulled her foot away from him. 
     “I-I …” Her voice came out breathy and she mentally reprimanded herself for letting him get the upper hand. “It’s for my new case: this is all the evidence that was collected from the crime scene. I wanted you to check if I’d missed something.”
     Jason spun around to his computer and opened up the drive to start clicking through the images. His eyes widened with horror when he realised who the victim probably was - and who the likely suspect was as well: Carmine Falcone. No way would he let his precious little girlfriend get mixed up with such a notorious villain. He closed the file and turned to X with a scowl. “Who gave you this case?” 
     Her lips parted, confused by her boyfriend’s sudden change in demeanour. “I … just got stuck with it because everyone else thought it was too boring.”
     “Well, they were wrong.” Jason removed the drive from his computer and tossed it into one of his desk drawers. “You’re not taking this case, princess.”
     X furrowed her brows, caught between bewilderment and amusement: Jason could be a little overprotective of her sometimes. Not that she didn’t love having someone who was so perfectly capable of taking care of her and making her feel safe! She just found that he could be a tad dramatic sometimes … “I have a name, you know, sweetheart.”
     Jason narrowed his eyes at her overly saccharine tone. He stood up and placed his hands on either side of her. “You’re not taking this case, Nightingale.”
     X took in the threatening frown on his face, then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her lips out in a pout. 
     “No fair!” she complained. “Why do you always get to have all the fun, Hood?” Suddenly, her expression morphed into a devious grin and she tickled the base of his skull with her fingernails. 
     “We could solve this case together?” she suggested. “The two of us working in perfect synchrony …” She stretched up, bringing her lips to his ear so she murmur softly into it, her voice low and thick with lust. 
     “And no one would even know how good the big, bad Red Hood f*cks the city’s sweet little Nightingale to sleep in his bed every night,” she finished naughtily. 
     “F*ck.” Jason’s eyes rolled back in his head as all the blood rushed immediately to his core. Because who in their right mind would ever picture the rough and hardened vigilante running his hands and teeth and tongue all over the naked body of their sweet little superhero? Corrupting her in his bed every night while she mewled desperately for his c*ck? He dug his fingers into the table, restraining himself from touching her. He took a step back, forcing her hands to fall away from his shoulders, and the distance allowed him to finally regain control of his thoughts. “I’ll handle this case, princess. I’ll talk to Batman about it.”
     She swung her legs back and forth, trying to decide between telling him off for ordering her around and just letting him do her work for her. But she didn’t want him to take on extra work on her account, though she supposed it would be sufficient punishment for the demeaning way he was treating her right then. She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at him.
     “I’m not a child, Hood,” she told him, the anger taking over. “But if you want to treat me as such, then don’t complain about the consequences that come with it.”
     She stalked towards the door, making to leave, but Jason jumped out of his seat and quickly caught her wrist.
     “Nightingale,” he sighed,, finally realising how his authoritative tone might have come across. X stopped, but refused to turn around and face him. “I’m just … The people involved in this case are too dangerous, sweetheart.”
     He lifted his hand to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him, but then he hesitated. What if she pushed him aside in disgust, unwilling to forgive his mistakes any longer? He tugged her wrist to test the waters and X collapsed back into his chest, relieving all the tension from his body. He squeezed her against him, holding her tightly against his chest, and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.
     “I can’t-” His voice cracked, but he recovered quickly. “I’m not going to let you get hurt, Nightingale.”
     X sighed at the earnestness in his voice and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Okay.”
     Jason patted her back gently and bent over to press another kiss to the top of her head … But then someone banged on the door.
     “Boss?!” one of his goons’ panicked voice came from the other side of the door. “Are you all right?! Has she got you?! Blink twice if the answer is ‘yes’!”
     “You idiot!” another man’s rough voice interrupted. “How are we gonna know if he’s blinking?!”
     “Oh yeah …” the first man replied. “We’re coming in, boss!”
     “No! Don’t-” Jason leaped away from his girlfriend just as his goons came barreling into the room. They zoomed straight in between the two of them and crashed into the wall at the end before landing in a crumpled heap on the ground. 
     “Shit,” Jason muttered, racing over to check on his henchmen. X followed after him, rapidly assessing the two men’s injuries: thankfully, they’d seemed to have just bruised their arms after breaking the door down and running straight into the wall - no sign of any head injuries or concussions. She straightened with a relieved smile. 
     “They should be fine,” she assured Jason. She turned around and sauntered to the door, swaying her hips teasingly. Then she stopped in the doorway and twisted around to look back at him, stretching her body in such a way to accentuate her curves. “Oh and my offer still stands, Mr Big Bad Red Hood.”
     She enunciated the words carefully and Jason’s body heated up as her eyes roved all over him beneath her mask. She grinned at the sudden tightness in his posture and swivelled back around to resume her exit. “You know where to find me if you want to take me up on it. I’ll be waiting, sweetheart.”
     Her tone was teasing - challenging - and Jason gulped as she turned back to shoot him one last wicked grin. He watched quietly as she grappled out of his warehouse, disappearing into the night, and his mind started running wild with ideas on all the positions he could possibly find her in once he returned home.
     “Um, what's she talking about, boss?” one of his men asked him, his voice slightly shaky. Jason turned to find both his goons blushing at his girlfriend's lascivious tone - except that they didn't even know that she was his girlfriend. They were just wondering why the cute and pretty hero was using what was very clearly her bedroom voice on their large and threatening boss. Jason gulped as her earlier words echoed in his mind, but he forced down his desire and drew himself to his full height.
     “Nothing. She … was just warning me about a case involving Falcone,” Jason told them. “Keep an eye on your families, boys: he doesn't seem to be in a good mood. And if he ever threatens any one of you, you come straight to me, got it?”
     The men nodded vigorously, heeding their boss’s warning: the Red Hood never steered them wrong, so they'd follow his words to the letter. “Got it, boss.”
     “Good. Let the others know.” Jason headed towards the door, but paused in the doorway, hesitating. “And go home: it's getting late. I'm calling it a day.”
     Then he left without another word.
     Spoiler landed on the rooftop next to Nightingale.
     “Hey, your location was switched off. Where’d you go?” Her tone was unconcerned, as  if she already knew exactly where Nightingale had been whilst she’d gone dark over their comms, but she waited expectantly for her response anyway. 
     X raised her eyebrows at her friend and teammate: she wasn’t buying Stephanie’s innocent tone. “Hood’s warehouse.”
     She grappled through the air, leaping from one building to the next as they began their trek back to the batcave.
     “Well, where is it?” Stephanie asked once they’d stopped for a brief break. Nightingale shot her a wry smile. 
     “You know he doesn’t want you guys knowing where it is.” She took off again and Spoiler quickly caught up, keeping pace with her.
     “Why?” she asked, genuinely confused. “It’s not like we’re gonna … blow it up or something!”
     X laughed as they landed in front of one of the many secret entrances to the batcave. She paused to let the scanner sweep over her, then strolled between the doors when they slid open. 
     “It’s not that, it’s just …” She turned around and walked backwards as she thought about it. “He just needs his space sometimes.” 
     She swivelled back around and continued walking over to the Batcomputer. “Plus, he can’t have you guys making him look soft in front of his henchmen.”
     “Who are we making look soft in front of their henchmen?” Nightwing asked, striding into the main hall from another passageway. He removed his Escrima Sticks from the back of his suit and placed them back in their holder.
     “Jason,” Stephanie replied, removing her mask and sinking into the empty seat beside Tim. 
     “Does anyone else think it’s weird that Jason has henchmen?” Tim asked, not turning away from the Batcomputer. Dick ignored Tim’s question, snorting in amusement at X’s suggestion. 
     “The only person capable of making Jason look soft …” He paused dramatically and turned around to face her before continuing, “is you.”
     X pulled an empty chair up to Steph and hopped onto it. She spun around as she considered Dick’s statement, letting her mind wander to her sweet and caring boyfriend. He was soft though, always surprising her with cute little dates and crafting the most thoughtful handmade gifts for her. And he’d pick her up after work every day so they could have dinner together and make sure to see each other at least once a day. Her features shifted into a dreamy expression and Stephanie grinned before snapping her fingers in front of her face.
     “X? You still with us, babe?”
     Dick laughed from his own seat as he lifted his legs onto the console. 
     “Her mind’s probably still with her boyfriend in that secret warehouse of his,” he pointed out, folding his arms across his chest and huffing in irritation at the thought of Jason’s warehouse that he refused to let any of them see. Well, any of them except for his little girlfriend that he was so obviously head over heels for.
     X shook her head, forcing herself back to reality, and flashed her friends a sheepish smile. “Sorry …”
     But none of them minded - not when she was so head over heels for their brother herself. X’s phone buzzed suddenly and she opened up the notification to find a text from Jason. Her eyes widened at whatever she saw on her phone and she shot out of her seat, this time with a guilty smile. “Uh, I’m gonna head home now. Night, guys! See you tomorrow!”
     She raced off without a word and the others exchanged knowing glances with one another. Dick dropped his hands and legs and rolled over to Stephanie. “Did you do it?” 
     Stephanie responded with a devious grin. 
     “Yup.” She turned to Tim and leaned over his shoulder. “Is it working?”
     Tim pulled up a map of Gotham with a single blinking light on it moving rapidly through the city, straight towards Jason’s apartment. “Yup.” 
     Jason sucked in a breath as the white-hot pleasure buzzed through his brain. “F*ck.”
     He closed his eyes as they rolled back in his head at the sound of his girlfriend’s adorable little mewls beneath him, then he slumped over and started trying to catch his breath. He chuckled softly at the sight of X doing the same, then he bit his lip as he ran his hand down her bare, sweat-slicked back. God, she was hot. He slid his hands along her sides, tracing the outlines of her curves, then he lay down on top of her, twisting his fingers between hers. He pressed a kiss to the base of her ear, then buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her arousal. 
     “Mmm, shit,” he groaned, curling his fingers around hers. X shook her head as her mind went numb at the feeling of her large boyfriend’s warm body pressing against her. Then he began trailing his lips down the side of her neck and she hummed in contentment as his satisfied groans sank into her skin and danced along her bones. “I love you, Jay.”
     “I love you too, sweetheart.” Jason lifted himself off of X, giving her the space to twist around and snuggle up against his chest instead. He brushed her hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek softly as he admired her glowing features. Shit, she was pretty. “But you’ve gotta stop breaking into my warehouse, babygirl.”
     X furrowed her brows, her lips instinctively twisting into a pout - she always felt like a spoiled little princess whenever he took that soft tone with her.
     “Why?” she whined, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. Jason lowered his lips to her neck and slid his hand down to her ass. He moaned softly as he curled his fingers around her, squeezing her soft flesh like she was a little pillow, then he sighed and lifted his gaze back to hers.
“‘Cause you’re making me look bad, princess. My boys are gonna think that I can just fall for any pretty girl that walks into my warehouse.”
     X narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “And how many ‘pretty girls’ are walking into your warehouse, Jay?”
     Jason shot her an amused look: she could get a little … ‘protective’ over him sometimes, glaring down any girl who even looked at him for a second longer than she deemed appropriate. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him or anything, she just … liked staking her claim over him. His stomach buzzed with excitement at having someone who thought him amazing enough to mark their territory on. 
     “Just one.” He slung his leg over hers, pulling her closer against him. “And she can be so frustratingly distracting.” His gaze fell to her lips and he brought his mouth closer to hers.
     “Makes it difficult to get any work done,” he mumbled before sliding his hand up the back of her neck and pulling her mouth to his.
     X glided her hands all over his body as they kissed, admiring how deliciously gorgeous her boyfriend was. She wriggled against him as he teased her tongue with his, kissing and stroking her until she was breathless and dizzy with lust. Jason pulled back and laughed at the unfocused look on his girlfriend’s face. 
     “Come on,” he told her, carefully helping her get off the bed. “You've got work tomorrow. Let's get you ready for bed.”
     “Ah! I'm so excited!” Spoiler squealed over the comms unit. “How should we enter? Should we jump in through a window? Or fly through the roof? Oh! Maybe we should just knock on the door?! They'll never be expecting that!” 
     Nightingale had gone dark a while back, but the tracker Stephanie had snuck into her suit had continued blinking steadily on the map Tim had gotten Dick to watch closely after his patrol had started. The three of them raced towards the docks now, eager to catch a glimpse of Jason's super secret, probably super cool warehouse that he'd kept hidden from them for so long. Finally, they landed on the rooftop of what appeared to be an empty warehouse, taking a moment to catch their breaths.
     “There's a skylight,” Dick pointed out, gesturing to the removable glass panel that sat a few feet away from them. 
     “Busting through the roof it is.” Stephanie grinned and followed Dick over to the skylight. He pried it open easily and soon, the three of them were standing in the middle of a darkened building, all of them on guard for any wary guards. And then, “Eugh! Sick! It smells like dead fish!” 
     “I thought it smelled like three dead rats,” a low male voice chuckled from the edge of the room. Stephanie furrowed her brows at the response.
     “Uh, no, that's definitely fish.” Then she realised who had spoken. She, Tim and Dick whirled around in horror, following the sound of the voice, and their panic increased tenfold when they saw the Red Hood walking towards them, a knowing smirk on his face. 
     “Hood!” Stephanie began, stumbling over her words as she tried to come up with a response. “W-We … We were just …”
     “We got a distress call!” Tim improvised quickly.
     “And we just wanted to make sure whoever it was was okay!” Dick finished, joining into the lie. The three of them nodded eagerly, suspiciously wide smiles stretched across each of their faces. Jason rolled his eyes.
     “Did you think I didn't vet anyone who comes into my warehouse?” he asked, arms folded across his chest. “Especially someone who is almost always in close contact with the biggest snakes this side of the world?”
     “In my defence,” Nightingale supplied, dropping down from the ceiling and landing behind them, “I thought they were my friends! But I guess you can only be betrayed by those you trust.”
     She gave an exaggerated sniff and moved to stand beside Jason, curling her arms around his bicep and leaning against him.
     “Technically, we weren't betraying you,” Tim argued, his tone matter-of-fact. “We were betraying the Red Hood. Although it's not like we have any alliances with him anyway.”
     “What? You need me to sign a contract or something?” Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes at the suggestion. 
     “I trust you, Hood,” Nightingale told him, fluttering her eyelashes up at him sweetly. “I know you'd never betray me.” 
     Her gaze turned dangerous then, her smile sharpening into one laced with threats as she waited for conformation that he'd never betray her. Jason grinned and lowered his head to hers.  
     “Of course, princess,” he murmured, his voice low enough so the others wouldn't hear him. X giggled softly and Jason’s smile widened. Then he straightened and rearranged his features into a threatening expression. “If any of you ever try to pull a stunt like this again, you'll be cleaning fish guts out of your suits for a month.” 
     Tim, Steph and Dick cringed at the very thought, the bile rising to their throat as they took in another whiff of the fishy air. 
     “Ugh! Fine! You win!” Tim surrendered on behalf of all of them. “We won’t try to find your stupid warehouse again.” 
     Jason smirked in victory and waited until the three of them had left the area. “I told you it’d take them less than ten minutes after you went dark to come after you.” 
     X slid her arms around his neck as Jason’s arms came around her waist. “Fine. You win. I won’t disturb you at your warehouse anymore. Well, for the next month, at least.” 
     Jason rolled his eyes, but continued to smile. “You know they’re still going to try again, right?” 
     X shrugged, unbothered. “Then I guess we’ll just have to get the fish ready.”
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fraternum-momentum · 1 day ago
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so so so glad ur art has been taking off lately... i've loved ur dol art for ages now, so it's fun to see things with a wider appeal blow up! nwn
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ty for sticking with me for so long !!!! it's honestly so surreal tbh,, im just kinda doing whatever comes to mind / whatever i want to do, im glad people seem to like it :33
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queermarzipan · 2 days ago
Text
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
BEST. SURPRISE. EVER.
BTW
I LOVE YOU ASMI I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
SOOIGJLCFGOOOOO
R o b e r t d e n e i r o
R O B E R T D E N E I R O
i'm dying. i'm actually dying
Russel T. Davies
Russel T. Davies
ily asmi
i'm laughing bc this is incredibly obvious to ME but that is EXACTLY THE SAME RHYTHM so i am in fact delighted that you knew that
Yes this is true. Twelve is the lesbian and thirteen is idk pansexual or something idk. some sort of extremely niche microlabel i feel. not 'lesbian'
YOU WOULD THINK WOULDN'T YOU but no the master just really is that much of an ego-full person. he chose the name. like every time lord gets to choose their name and he called himself the master. & honestly there is also some sort of BDSM thing going on where the master REALLY LIKES the doctor using their name. and they're also both firmly in 'I Can Fix Him' territory about each other. fucking hell
MISSY MY FUCKING BELOVED ISTG I'M SO MAD THAT THE ONLY MASTER ARC THAT HAD HER BE LIKE FIXING HERSELF WAS WHILE SHE WAS A WOMAN AND THEY HAD THAT CLEAR DELINEATION THEY MADE BTW 'THE MASTER' AND 'MISSY' & I'M JUST. I LOVE HER. YOU FUCKING GOT ME. W H Y
the fucking bigeneration i was READY TO CRY & then they gave me the BEST GIFT OF ALL FUCKING TIME WHOVIANS EVERYWHERE CHEERED ISTFG
i also fucking sobbed but that's not the point the point is it fixed me
i love how little catherine knows about doctor who. every interview they do where david and catherine are together and something factual about the lore comes up david turns to catherine like "👀😇" i fucking love it
the QPR is the realest thing ever istFG it's so much stronger than stobin it really is and i'm biased towards stobin bc they're my FIRST PLANTONIC SHIP but omg they knocked it out of the park. the doctor 7 donna. forevermore. in the brains of people who have gone insane
THE FUCKING. KILLS HER. FUCK
HE KILLS HER
TO SAVE HER LIFE
BUT HE STILL KILLS HER
AND HE HAS TO CARRY THAT
FUCKING HELLLLLLLLLLL
this is what the 60th anniversary fixed in me btw. this pain. the cracks r still conveniently there & reopen when i put myself back in time within the canon
why would i do that you ask
obviously
i
must
????
pain
donna
</3.
^see. totally reasonable
the original show had shitty effects and so does the new one and everyone loves it. if u genuinely think the shitty effects of dw are something to overcome u r made aware that u r incorrect. we love our ridiculous procreate ass living bin and obviously plastic mickey. go watch avengers if u want GOOD cgi
this is profoundly accurate & also neutral which is smart bc having not watched the show u would ABSOLUTELY not be able to adequately defend your position to avoid having ppl come up to ubto ""explain" why ur wrong.
that said.
tentoo is the best ending rose tyler could have possibly had it tied in with themes in school reunion & impossible planet & family of blood & also fucking army of ghosts & doomsday & no one can ever change my mind. i fucking love it to fucking pieces u can pry the metacrisis from my cold dead hands
HE'S CALLED TENTOO BC HE'S ALSO TEN IT'S A FUCKING PUN IT'S THE BEST PUN EVER I LOVE IT
NuWho is one word & New Who is two words. Expeditiousness is the friend of all. this is the fandom that uses full-on numbers to refer to versions of a character lke the infamous "you can like 11 better than 10" post lmao u expect us to keep two words we could conpress into one??
THE TARDIS SHOULD ABSOLUTELY IMPLEMENT RIBBONS FOR SEATBELTS IF I EVER GET TO WRITE FOR THE SHOW THAT'S MY FIRST FUCKING SUGGESTION. I'M FUCKING LOVING THAT. also the tardis😍😍🩵💙🩵💙💙🩵💙🩵🩵
he does indeed. bridgerton episode
the ninth doctor is sometimes a butch lesbian and sometimes something unknowable & i think it was the unknowable version that was bobbing his head. he fucking rocks also ur absolutely right he has so little rizz. he can get it
truth. nothing more to say
very very queer. nothing more to say
david tennant and catherine tate had SO MUCH FUN during that episode istg i love them so much
the sexuest person is indeed a head. apparently he was supposed to be in a certain story arc & he'd have his head chopped off and that's why he's a head but they couldn't get him. so now we just simply have to assume that he got into a beheading predicament at some point
the Meep's pronoun is the definite article. easy mistake to make. the Meep is always "the Meep". friend shaped because evil subterfuge :,[
.....uh........ idk asmi idk lmao
WAIT OH MY GOD IT'S CASSANDRA YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT CASSANDRA I'M GOING TO EXPLODE THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNYYYYYY
*strolls into tumblr and falls on my face pretending I haven't been missing for like a month I was out getting the milk hello maggots*
Doctor Who But I've Never Watched It 2.0
For those of you feeling deja vu YES I HAVE MADE POSTS ON DOCTOR WHO BEFORE OKAY but back then I was a young uneducated lad, just a fresh blossom unfucked by tumblr. Now I am surrounded by you lot and by god do y'all love Doctor Who. And I am Educated. My DW virginity is deflowered. All that.
SO HERE WE GO, EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SHOW I'VE NEVER WATCHED:
The show started in 1963, and then was rebooted in 2005 and the showrunner was... Robert de Neiro? Idk all I know is he gives Pedro Pascal vibes. Like his name. His name is Robert.
There have been 15 Doctors so far. One is a lesbian and it is not Jodie Whittaker, it is actually the 12th doctor.
There's someone called the Master. I don't know what that means, or if it's some kind of BDSM thing, but he has intense sexual tension with the Doctor.
He's also emo and has bleached hair and is kinda babygirl. And is called Missy.
The Doctors all have intense trauma and the 15th Doctor kind of girlbossed it by leaving David Tennant intact when they binary-fissioned.
Donna is a person played by Catherine... Tate? Not Hepburn. And she knows less about Doctor Who than I do. And Donna is in a QPR with the David Doctors (there are two of them).
David Doctor loves Donna very much. And then he kills her. But doesn't kill her. And then they have dinner together with her husband and kid.
The original show had shitty effects. The new show does too, and everyone is happy about this.
Rose is someone the David Doctor is in love with and then she ends up with a human AU of him and he leaves and the fans are very divided and passionate about this.
The human AU is called Tentoo because y'all hate using W's. What the fuck is Tentoo. What is Nuwho. Why isn't it New and Two. Help me.
THERE IS SOMETHING CALLED THE TARDIS, IT IS BIGGER ON THE INSIDE, I HAVE HAD WEIRD DREAMS WHERE IT WAS A FUCKING AUTO-RICKSHAW WITH RIBBONS FOR SEATBELTS, AND IT IS BLUE AND NOT YELLOW BUT IT WAS YELLOW IN MY DREAM. Because of a Drarry fanfic that I misread.
The 15th doctor dances homoerotically with someone during the French Revolution.
The 9th doctor kinda vibes with like his head jiggling idk I've only seen one gif of him.
The 13th doctor keeps forgetting she's in a woman's body.
It is all very gay.
David Tennant's arms are too long.
The sexiest person is a head.
The Meep's pronouns are Meep. Meep is not friend. IF NOT FRIEND THEN WHY FRIEND SHAPED??????
A buttcheek skin talks or something yeah this is all I got.
have at it y'all @robinprinceofchaos @multidimensional-trashcan @wispedvellichor @queermarzipan thanks for the second hand brainrot
*sneaks away under the cover of night* i was never here
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confiaenanaa · 1 day ago
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Can I request an angsty one where the reader and Marshall/Em/Slim (whichever you prefer) they have an argument and at one point he tells her he doesn't need her, he can have whoever he wants and they won't complain about anything like she does. And obviously she feels hurt bc it's always been an insecurity of hers that he could have anyone. And he just confirmed her fear. Hopefully with a happy ending tho🙏🏻❤️ please and thank you! Sorry it's so long lol.
needed - eminem
fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers
masterlist
synopsis: Marshall says he doesn't need her, but what does he do when he doesn't have her?
warnings: cursing, drinking
A/N: loved this request! very fun to write. if you guys want anything written, my asks are open. hope you enjoy!
-Fuck you! 
-Oh, piss off!
Shouts could be heard from the Mathers residence that night. Y/N and Marshall were arguing over something stupid, again. They seemed to be having these arguments more and more often these days. This time, however, they were arguing over Marshall’s lack of communication. He’d have a bad day, be rude to Y/N, and when she’d ask what was wrong he’d blow up at her without telling her what bothered him. Today it seemed like he’d had an extra bad day. 
He got home from the studio later than usual. Y/N was reasonably worried, and when she called, he wouldn’t answer. So, once he got home, she asked him a ton of questions; questions like “where were you?” “what happened?” “are you alright?”. This angered him to no end since he hates explaining himself to people.
He refused to answer questions. Y/N knew he’d probably just had a rough day so she decided to make him his favorite home-cooked meal and some hot cocoa and treat him to a lovely night at home. But, when she brought him his food and drink, he just told her he wasn’t hungry, even after seeing all the effort she was putting in for him. 
That’s when something inside of her just snapped. She set the plate and mug on the table fecklessly, spilling some cocoa in the process. Marshall seemed a bit startled, knowing Y/N doesn’t usually throw fits like this and she usually keeps her temper in check. 
-God, Marsh! Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you? I’ve tried so hard to find out what’s wrong, and you won’t tell me! What happened to me being your #1 and your best friend? And come on! Look at this meal I made for you! Can’t you see how badly I want you to let me help you? 
-Fuck! I’m sorry I’m not living up to your boyfriend standards, Y/N! But, clearly, I had a rough day so just drop it! 
-You know what Marshall? I have bad days too! But you don’t see me bitching about it and acting like a little kid every time something doesn’t go my way! And even when I do feel upset, I tell you what’s wrong! Because I actually care about your feelings and I wouldn’t want you to worry!
- Oh, so, now I don’t care?! All I ever do is care about you Y/N! I write songs about you, I buy you everything you look at to make you happy, not to mention I make you feel pretty damn good!
- It’s not about that Marsh! God, are you even listening to me?! I don’t care that you’re upset, or that you’re in a bad mood or feeling mean; I just want you to tell me! I want you to communicate with me! I want us to work through our problems calmly, without me having to shout to get your attention!
-You always say that, but you never actually do it! Whenever you’re upset you just stay quiet! So don’t go telling me how to deal with my problems because you sure as hell don’t know how to deal with yours!
-Fuck you!
-Oh, piss off!
-Fuck, Marsh! This isn’t about me! We can work through what I do, but you seriously need to stop! 
-Stop it, Y/N! Stop already! If everything I do is so terrible and wrong, then why not just break up with me already? 
-Because I love you! I care so much about you and I just wish you could see it.
-You’re just saying that because you know I don’t need your ass. You know I can get with whoever the hell I want and they won't criticize me or complain about everything I do half as much as you do!
Y/N stayed silent for a bit. Her heart dropped and she could feel the lump develop in her throat. All this time she was with Marshall, she’d had her insecurities. But, he helped her work through them slowly. He helped her make sure she knew he’d never hurt her like that.
But, now, all that hard work was out the window. With those simple words. The tears began to prick her eyes and she looked down at the floor to try and conceal it. She felt like a little girl being yelled at. She felt helpless, and small. The man who was supposed to love her the most, to protect her, had failed her. He made her feel alone.
Marshall instantly felt a wave of regret wash over him. He felt it surge from his mind up to the tips of his ears down to the points of his toes. He looked at the girl he loves, knowing how badly he just hurt her. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing he’d gone too far and he didn’t mean it; but, before he could, she had walked past him and into their bedroom. He quickly turned on his heels to follow her. 
Y/N was grabbing a few of her things: a hoodie, her phone charger, some gum, her earbuds, and some shoes. He once again tried to apologize but she wouldn’t hear it. He followed her all the way down to the garage and watched as she hopped in her car and sped off. He wasn’t sure where she was going, and, to be honest, neither was she. 
She hated herself for complaining and she hated him for being so mean to her. But, deep down, she knew she loved him more than anything and everything. She gripped her steering wheel harder, and turned up the volume of the song she was listening to. 
She pulled into the parking lot for some random bar she heard of from one of her friends. Her friend said it was the best place to go if you’re feeling sad or having a rough night. 
When she walked in, the bar looked exactly how she felt. It was dimly lit, the smell reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. There were barely enough people to call a crown in there, all sitting far apart with a drink in hand. Everyone looked glum in there, so she’d blend right in. She sat at the bar and ordered herself a few shots of rum. She downed them quickly, not feeling much different. She then ordered herself a vodka, which she kept refilling until the bartender just gave her the bottle. 
She kept feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She assumed it was Marshall. She didn’t really want to respond, but she still looked, just in case. It was actually a text from her best friend asking what happened. Of course. Marshall texted her friend to see if Y/N was okay (since she usually goes to her best friend in times of need). Y/N decided not to answer, she was in more of a “fuck the world” kind of mood.
She set her phone down on the counter, finally feeling the effects of the alcohol. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get home or if she was going to get home at all. Before she could continue that thought, she saw a series of texts, making her phone buzz repeatedly. 
The contact name read “marsh :)”. She truly didn’t want to speak to him at the moment. She wasn’t sure why what he said affected her this way, but it did, and he knew that. She knew she was probably just being sensitive, but she couldn’t help but feel attacked. 
She looked at her phone again and saw Marshall’s concerned text chain.
“hello?”
“babyyy??”
“look baby i’m so sorry i know i messed up big time. please call me back so i can fix this.”
She didn’t bother reading the rest. She got more texts from him and her best friend. They seemed really concerned now. It was unlike Y/N, not answering the phone. It was cold, far too cold for someone of her character. However, Y/N wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to care about her character. She was too busy trying to keep her head upright as her vision blurred a bit from the effects of the white russian she was creating in her stomach at the moment. From that point forward, she couldn’t really recollect anything that had happened. The next thing she knew, she felt a pair of strong arms lifting her up by the waist and into their arms bridal-style. 
The next day, Y/N woke up in her bed alongside a snoring Marshall that had his arms wrapped around her tightly. She slowly shimmied out of his embrace, head beginning to pound when she stood up. She went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a small tonic for hangovers in hand. 
As she was washing the cup she was just using, Y/N heard a set of booming footsteps as they pounded against the wooden staircase. She turned around to look at Marshall. He looked incredible. His hair was a bit tousled and his eyes and lips were puffy. He came down and approached her without a second thought. The first thing he did was put his lips against hers. The kiss was warm, brilliant. 
Y/N crumpled under his touch. He pulled back and smiled slightly at her. His heart grew seeing her in front of him. He smiled even wider when he saw her smile back; however, he knew he wasn’t forgiven just yet. 
-Wait, look, I gotcha something.
He quickly walked into the living room and grabbed a small box and turned to the kitchen.
-I bought this a while ago. I wanted to give it to you somewhere better but this seemed like the right time.
Y/N opened the little box gingerly, a little nervous to see its contents. Her jaw dropped a tad when she saw it. 
A small ring, diamond encrusted and the exact type of metal she wears. It was perfectly tailored to her tastes. She looked up at him, eyebrow slightly raised.
-It’s a promise ring. I know what I said last night was fucked up but I didn’t mean it at all. I love you more than anything and you know that. I could never be with anyone else knowing that you’re out there in the world. 
He took the ring out of the box and secured it onto her finger. He then kissed her hand softly. She smiled taking in the view.
Then, she knew, more than anything, that she was truly loved.
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sulumuns-dootah · 1 day ago
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Assigning WHB demons plants/flowers based off the vibes: Abyssos
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
A/N: I think I need to start attending some botany classes again bc from the way these post are turning into me rambling about plants i can tell I miss it :D
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
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Nepenthes rajah
I don't think this plant has a common name, but if it did it would be smth like Rat/Mouse eating pitcher plant
Bc that's exactly what the plant does
It's just big enough for the small rodent to climb into and never see the light of day again
This also probably explains why I picked it for Beel
I mean, he literally eats angels whole
(I find pitcher plants really cool bc they're literally just a pitchers filled with digestive fluid, but they're not necessary carnivorous - some life off of animal droppings or insects)
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Venus flytrap - Dionaea muscipula
At first i was gonna include maybe some other pitcher plant or completely different plant...
But then again, Bael is literally catching the King of flies on daily basis
Idk why, but looking at pics of the open leaves is really calming to me
Having them is kinda cool bc sometimes you just walk past and see one of their leaves closed bc it caught a fly and you'll feel kinda proud of your little baby for catching something
From my experience they don't close when you give them dead one, though
They might also be a bit harder to keep alive...
Mine made it few months, but then bloomed and died shortly after I cut the flower off (similar thing also happened to my friend who specialises in succulents and carnivorous plants so I don't think I did anything wrong)
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Poison Ivy - Toxicodendron
At first I was thinking I'll give Stolas something bird-named, but I really wantd somethinig that looks harmless, and the moment you mess with, you're in for a lot of pain
And this plant baby delivers
I've never had the misfortune of meeting it, but I haver heard the stories
For those who don't know: Contanct wiht the plant gives you a nasty rash, sometimes with some blisters
Interestingly, looking it up on wikipedia, there's even what would happen if you smoked or eaten it....
As if you'd wanna do that after getting a rash just touching that thing
(You skin is pretty much reacting to the oil on the leaves, so after you come to contact make sure to wash it off or you'll spread it on other things too)
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Hypoestes
I can only talk about this moody beauty from experience since there isn't much info online
From what I've found there's about 150 scpecies in this family
Doesn't require much sunlight, but needs water
And oh boy, the amount of water...
The reason why I picked this plant for Amon is how easy it is for the leaves to start drooping
Just like him being constantly tired
But oh boy, the drooping... One minute she looks good and then two minutes later she's on the verge of death
It's not good to have planters just sitting in water bc of the risk of mold, but this one might just need it
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Common Ivy - Hedera Helix
Originally I wanted to go again with a plant based off his animal form, but then while writing for Amon, I saw normal Ivy
The ultimate Dark Academia plant that looks so good growing around anything
It's perfect for a demon they sometimes call Class President
I really love Common Ivy bc of how much you can use her for
Amazing use for Ivy is putting her into floral arrangements and the amazing thing is that it'll mostly keep its color as long as it's not left out in the rain or your glue gun set on too high temperature
Fun fact: The leaves of the plant are different on normal branches from the branches with a flower
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kitkatpancakestack · 2 days ago
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DMV meetcute lesbians yay! I have been writing about them in an effort to break through this hellish writer's block bc they are fun and nothing hurts in this universe and I love them <3 Anywayyy it's been a bit since I shared some writing so here's a snippet, if you're so inclined:
“I appreciate the thought,” Chloe said, breaking Gabi from her spiral. “You driving me home from the hospital the other day was enough. You don’t—owe me anything.”
“It’s not—uh, whoa! What do you think you’re doing?” She more or less threw the food onto the kitchen table in order to intercept Chloe at the cabinets, where she had attempted to reach for the plates. “You had a pen literally lodged in your chest, and I thought you were gonna die on me, like, three days ago, so maybe let me get that?”
“I can do it.”
“Okay. Humor me then.”
Chloe blew a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face. “Beer?”
Alcohol always had the potential to make this evening better or exponentially worse. A gamble she was willing to take. “Yeah, thanks.
Chloe moved to the fridge instead and Gabi grabbed two bowls from the cabinet and went about setting out the various containers of chinese food.
“Thanks,” Gabi said, as an open beer was set down in front of her. Chloe smiled and Gabi tried to ignore the weird flip in her stomach and the dryness in her mouth in favor of sticking to her new life plan, which was to not be a walking disaster. Thus far an utter failure but call her an optimist. “So, uh, feel free to take whatever you want. Looking at it all in front of me I think I went a little overboard. Eyes bigger than my stomach and all that.”
Chloe didn’t say anything, but her posture was loose and relaxed as she dragged the lo mein closer to her. They ate in silence, nothing but din of LA continuing on outside the walls. Objectively it was a fine moment, and for anybody else it may have even been content, but Gabi didn’t think she had ever been fine or content in her entire life. As it was, she sat chewing on her egg roll hoping her cool exterior did not give away the nervous breakdown simmering underneath.
You’re just . . . you’re too freaking much, Gabi! You’re too much, until I actually want to have a legitimate conversation with you, or I need you to tell me something real, and then it’s nothing! Two years together and I still just do not understand you. I think that’s what you really want, is for nobody to know you at all!
“Gabi?”
She jerked, swallowing the egg roll gone soft in her mouth, throat suddenly tight. “Sorry?”
“I asked if you wanted another beer.” Chloe’s mouth was soft and pink and her lips a little spit slick from licking them, and Gabi felt her face go hot. 
“Um.” Girl don’t do it. “Yeah, that would be—thanks.”
She fought the urge to bang her head on the table as Chloe returned to the kitchen. “Listen, Chloe—” she stopped when saw a letter tacked up on the fridge with "alumni" in big blocky letters at the top, the first thing she’d seen in the apartment that had any kind of individuality or hint that an actual person lived inside. “Whoa, are you a dancer?”
Chloe frowned in confusion, but then her gaze snapped to the fridge, and a weird stiffness settled over her features. There one moment and gone the next, though. She smoothed the edges out quickly and seamlessly and settled on a more neutral expression. “Yeah, I—” She laughed, a quick burst of air through her nose, shaking her head. “I graduated from Julliard, actually. No big deal.”
Gabi thought her eyes were about to pop out of her head. “No big— are you shitting me.”
Chloe set the beer down. “No.”
“I just—”
“What?” The word was defensive, biting. Gabi walked back her excitement and dug her nails into her palms to keep herself in check.
“I could see it,” was what she settled on. “Your poise handling me during that driving test was unparalleled.”
Chloe laughed for real and that was the biggest win Gabi had earned in a while. “Yeah, you were pretty bad.”
“Hey, I am aware of my many, many faults.”
“You’re human,” Chloe rebuked. “Is this about that breakup you told me before? I’m sure your ex-girlfriend wasn’t faultless. Anyway, you saved my life, so I’d put you on my team any day.”
Gabi laughed, the sound was hollow even to her own ears. “Thanks, I guess.” She fiddled with the paper label on the beer bottle. “She, uh . . .” Gabi cleared her throat. “I’d texted her, because she’d gone to the store, and we didn’t have any milk and I just wanted to make sure that she got some milk.” A stabbing pain ricocheted through her, anchoring her to that moment, a window of time she never felt like she would be able to leave. “She left her phone on the coffee table, and it lit up, and I just glanced over at it, but she’d changed my name in the phone. It just said, ‘Pandora’s Box.’”
She remembered confronting her ex about it. Still hopeful even during one of the worst moments of her life. Yeah, Gabs, it says Pandora's Box, you know, that thing you open and then it's just, fucking disaster after disaster. Sound familiar?
Chloe’s face was measured, and Gabi felt bad that each time they got together she ended up trauma dumping on her. Jesus, she really was a mess. “I’m sorry, that’s—I didn’t come here too bitch and complain—”
“Gabi, oh my god.” Chloe reached over with her good side and covered Gabi’s hand with her own. It was a little larger than Gabi expected, seeing it up close, but soft and warm, her nails well-manicured where Gabi’s were bitten down to anxious nubs and bleeding all the time. “Didn’t I tell you she was in your rearview now? I didn’t know you back then, I only know you now. It’s okay.” She smiled, a little bigger, genuine. “I like you plenty the way you are.”
If she had been one more beer in she might have started tearing up, but even as her eyes remained dry on the inside she felt soupy and warm and soothed. It would only last as long as the evening, but it had been a while since she felt anything close to this. She clinged to it. She clinged to the slide of Chloe’s hand off her own. She clinged to the freckle perfectly dotted under the jut of her jaw. 
“Thanks for dinner,” Chloe said, rising to her feet.
The buzzing under her skin made her restless, nervous, so she turned to her regular source of comfort, to the knowledge that she could leave, she could always leave, she could always disappear, if things imploded again. 
And so she clung to that, too.
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swee7dream · 2 days ago
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hi very late but may I request a cute cg!jaehyun taking care of a VERY fussy little!reader hehehehehhehehehehheheh cant wait to see what u write :)) (saying this bc I was very late but I saw you saying like a week or 2 after u saying u wanted to write jaehyun fics..)
no ! ( but okay ) caregiver ! jeong yoonoh x age regressor ! reader
genres age regression content , fluff warnings reader has hair long enough to put behind the ears dni nsfw / kink author's note FAV MOOT . i will go to war for you . as someone who is extremely fussy when small , you and i are cut from the same cloth . hope u like it ! tag list restarting ! lmk if you would like to be added .
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“No, no, no…”
“Come on, Honey.”
“Not finish yet.” You ignore Jaehyun’s gentle hand pushing the hair behind your ear, scribbling your crayon furiously to the paper on the floor like a painter struck with genius inspiration.
“Can we finish this later? Tomorrow, maybe?”
“No, no, no, no, no…”
Jaehyun’s eyes flutter shut. You’ve entered your ‘no’ phase all of a sudden and it has been carving at his patience. It’s not that he never wants you to say no, but when it comes to eating your lunch or cleaning up your toys or changing out of your outside clothes for comfy, clean inside clothes, he can’t deny it’s frustrating. He just wants the best for his baby, why can’t you see that?
“Baby.” He looks down at the phone in your other hand, currently shining a terrifying (in Jaehyun’s opinion) four-finned shark-dinosaur-thing. Papers surround your curled-up ball self on the floor, each one detailing a different kind of dinosaur. “The dinos need to sleep too, baby. We need to start getting ready now so you don’t forget to brush your teeth ‘cause you’re just so sleepy.”
“Nuh-uh. Dinos can’t sleep. They’re dead.”
His shoulders slump in his crisscrossed sitting position in front of you. It’s difficult to keep up with the canonical and non-canonical existences of your baby world.
“Okay… maybe. But when they were alive, they had to sleep.”
“…maybe.” You throw him a bone! Finally, it only took an hour.
“Yeah?” He places a hand over the screen. “There are those pretty eyes. Hi Honey.”
“Hi, Hyunnie.” You frown. “Hyunnie let go.”
“The phone told me he’s very tired and would like to go to bed now. Sorry, baby.”
“Not true, phones don’t talk.”
“Mine does.” He gives you a look that says ‘so embarrassing for you…’
You squint at him, unamused.
“Hyunnie let go.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. My hand fell asleep. Right here.” He shines his dimples at you innocently.
“Let go!” Your blue crayon is left forgotten to roll under the couch as you pull and pull on Jaehyun’s arm.
“No!” He sings, finally taking matters into his own hands, quite literally, by pulling you onto his lap. “Bed time. Bed time for my baby.”
He rocks you side to side, cheek resting on the top of your head as he confines you in between his arms.
“No!” You squirm around but to no avail. “No bedtime. No tired!”
“Mmm, yes!” You feel his lips press to your head. “Bedtime, bedtime. Time for jammies and teeth brushing and stories. Doesn’t that sound fun, baby?”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“No-o-o-o-o-o!” Your voice shakes as Jaehyun’s soft rocking turns more into a shake one would give only to a potato sack.
“Ye-e-e-e-e-es!” He smiles down at you as he finishes his best imitation of your little tantrum.
“No.” You frown up at him, but his eyes catch the quirks at the end of your lips that you fail to push down.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes!” He attacks your cheek with a kiss, littering your face with them as he continues. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”
“But why?” You give in, allowing yourself to go limp in Jaehyun’s hold.
“Because,” He mocks your whiny tone. “It’s late. It’s late and you get really mean when you don’t sleep enough.”
“That’s not true!”
“Hey.” He pinches your nose. “Why are you fighting me so much lately? It absolutely is true and you know it. Do you want Hyunnie to be all sad and weepy tomorrow? I’ll cry. You know I will. Wanna see? W-”
“No!” You giggle, putting both your hands up to cover his face. “Don’t wanna see Hyunnie sad. But am just no tired, Hyunnie.”
Another kiss to your palms lets Jaehyun see your face again.
“But I am. Can’t you just get ready for bed with me? It’s so scary to be alone.” He pulls you into his chest, squeezing but never too tight. “So scary! I need my Honey to help me!”
“Not scary, Hyunnie.” You giggle. “But okay. Honey help!”
“Really?” He pulls you away to meet your eyes and bumps your foreheads together. “Really really? For reals? How many reals are you talking?”
“All the reals!” You beam.
“Oh, thank you, baby. You sure are doing Hyunnie a solid.”
You didn’t realize how cold you were until you put your pajamas on, soft and warm, still smelling of laundry detergent. It’s like wearing a blanket and you rub the fabric against your arms to warm yourself up some more.
Your socks slide against the wooden floor as you hear Jaehyun take his turn to brush his teeth in the bathroom. You left a total mess! Your artwork is all over the floor, what if you lost one?
Not feeling like wanting to clean up at the moment, you put your crayon box on the coffee table to put it in its proper place tomorrow.
Wait.
You’re missing one!
Where did it go?
You hum to yourself as you gather all your drawings in a neat pile, making a mental note to yourself to date them all in the morning. You search under the table and behind pillows and blankets. Where is your green crayon?
“Ah-hah!” Jaehyun spots you back in the living room, face to the floor.
“Baby, what are you doing?”
“Found my crayon, Hyunnie. Thought I lost it.” You lift yourself up, pulling your hand out from under the couch to show it to Jaehyun proudly.
“I’m glad you didn’t lose it, Honey.” He smiles. “But you didn’t have to get on the floor for that. You’re gonna get your jammies dirty.”
“’s okay! Needed my crayon.” You kneel over to slide the crayon back amongst its brethren in the paper box.
“Don’t you have a lot of other ones?” He helps you up by the hand.
“Not the same. Different shade o’ green.”
“Mmm, makes sense.” Jaehyun notices the pile of paper on your arm. “You’re taking your drawings to bed?”
“Yeah. Not tired so Honey’s gonna do storytime today.”
“Oh, really? Thank you, baby. You’re gonna teach me about dinosaurs?”
“Yeah.” You flop onto the bed. “Dinosaurs are super cool.”
“But aren’t they scary?” Jaehyun flicks off the light in the middle of the ceiling, warm soft light from your nightstands keeping the room from complete darkness.
“No. ‘cause they’re dead,” You explain simply.
“..right. I forgot that for a second.” He lifts the covers and slides inside the bed, shivering at the still-cold sheets. “Your drawings are just so good, baby, I thought they were pictures.”
“I get that a lot,” You say, rubbing your head against his arm. “You ready?”
“Ready Freddy.”
“Who’s Freddy?”
“I don’t know.” Jaehyun pauses to think. “Someone who’s ready, I guess. Go on, baby. Show me your dinos.”
“Okay!” You go through your pile of drawings and end up deciding on your most recent creation. “This one’s not finished, but it’s called a Liopleurodon. It existed in the Jurassic period. It was an apex predator—that means that no one could fight it and win! It just went chomp chomp and everybody died.”
“Oh, I see. It’s kind of like you, in a way.”
“What?!”
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author's note ( pt 2 ) sorry for taking so long ! i have no excuse , just trying to deny the reality of valentine boy being gone . haven't been keeping up w nct lately bc of irl stuff + the boycott so if anyone has a google drive or anything like that for sm artists , pls lmk ! and as always , comments and constructive criticism are accepted and encouraged . just be nice or i will be finding your loved ones ' contact information and telling them you're CYBER BULLYING . hope everyone is having a good day and if not i hope it gets better !!
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haveateadude · 2 days ago
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hi again ems!! (hope its okay if i call you that 😭) im the one who sent the last req, you wrote it so wonderfully. thanks for your concerns, wishing you the best !!
no pressure once again!! could you possibly write fluff about els taking you on a lil picnic to a flower field ? thank you once again!! 💗💗
picnic date
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summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ picnic day with your lover
warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ none, this is pure fluff i think
author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ hey!! omg your welcome to the person who sent this!!! i love uuu. i hope you like this one :)) also it's totally okay to call me em!! please feel free to send more request if you'd like!!!
and i'm so fucking sorry this took too long and it's too short. i've been busy lately but i have a week of online classes bc of some weird shit going on in my country so i hope i'll be able to write more.
have a good day everyone❤️
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Ellie takes you on a date. A picnic date, precisely. She knows you've been stressed lately, and she thought taking you out might help take your mind off things—at least for a while. You knew it would be lovely, but not like this. This is beautiful. Going to a flower field has always been on your bucket list, let alone having a picnic with the person you love most.
"Ellie!" you exclaim. "Why did you—I mean… Shit. This is beautiful."
Ellie leaves the basket of food on the blanket, then stands behind you, wrapping her arms around you and placing a kiss on your neck.
"You deserve this," she says, resting her chin on your shoulder as you look out at the flower field. It feels like a dream—dating her has always felt this way. "I hope you enjoy it. It took me a while to find a place like this."
You turn around, and her hands never leave your body; they settle on your hips now. "I love this."
The sun peeks through the clouds and shines directly into her eyes and along the curve of her nose. You’ve always thought she’s pretty—but in moments like this, when it’s just the two of you with nothing to do but enjoy each other’s presence, she looks ethereal. You kiss her, both of your hands on her cheeks.
"Thank you for bringing me here," you say as you both sit down. "Really, you didn't have to."
"I wanted to." She shrugs, smiling. "I thought we should do something nice; it's been a while since we've had time for ourselves."
You lean in for another kiss, which Ellie returns happily.
"God," you say, letting your head rest on her shoulder, "What did I do to deserve you?"
"You're asking me that?" she says, incredulous. "You're the prettiest, smartest, sweetest, and coolest girl I've ever met… How could I not love you? That's the real question."
You feel your cheeks flush, a warm pink spreading across your face as you look up at her. You’ve always thought Ellie was prettier than you—hell, you’ve always thought she was better at everything. She’s smart, beautiful, and always knows what to say. But the way she talks about you always makes you feel like she’s put you on a pedestal, for better or worse.
You chuckle, eyes bright with devotion. "I love you so much."
"I love you, too." Ellie’s the one to kiss you now, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I really can't believe I'm dating you."
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After you finish eating, you eventually end up with your head resting on her lap. The sun has faded a bit, leaving blue and orange streaks scattered across the sky. It looks beautiful, you think, as Ellie tucks daisies into your hair, braiding a strand every now and then. It feels nice, her fingers brushing against your scalp.
"You look so sleepy, baby," Ellie chuckles, finishing with a kiss on your forehead. "Are you sure you don't want to head back?"
You shake your head and sit up. "Can we stay a while longer?"
Ellie doesn’t answer; she leans in for a kiss and gently guides you both to lie down until your back hits the ground, with her next to you, propped up on one elbow. One of her hands rests on your cheek, her thumb gently caressing your skin as you keep on kissing.
When you pull away, Ellie rests her head on your chest. You wrap your arms around her.
"I think we can stay here a little while longer."
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scarletsky153 · 8 hours ago
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that one crack fic
thinking about writing a jjk crack fic in which nobara, yuuji (and sukuna) and megumi are satoru-suguru-shoko's senpai and the trio (plus sukuna!) are the reason why yaga-sensei shaved his hair (from stress!!)
(a bit backstory)
nobara's backstory was mostly the same, and also because she has sukuna as her reluctant mentor she was even more unhinge and crazy and definitely can keep up with yuuji and megumi during their shenaningas.
yuuji ate sukuna's finger(s) when he's way smaller, like probably six or seven, so sukuna has YEARS of dealing with humanity (thank god for uraume). during those years, itadori jin was also still alive and well (even tho kaori/kenjaku already gone their way outta their lives) so sukuna, recognizing jin's soul as his twin brother, reluctantly becoming yuuji's babysitter. when the sorcerers found out that sukuna was finally reincarnated around yuuji's 14th birthday, they met with deadpanned but deadly 'fuck around and find out' stare from sukuna bcs "i was here for years already, i have zero patience to deal with you fools because i have to deal with them (yuuji, jin, and wasuke)' shenanigans" which yeah, fine, no one can challenge sukuna anyway so they pressure yuuji into attending jujutsu high while also consuming sukuna's fingers as long as he didn't go on rampage and killing everyone.
megumi on the other hand,,, mamagumi was still alive and well, she's actually from a minor jujutsu clan and so when megumi show his ten shadows technique toji decided the safest way is to strongarmed himself into becoming zen'in clan's head (or at least kill the current clan elders) and pressure them into making megumi the clan heir. toji already got the reputation of being the Sorcerer Killer even tho most of his kills are curse user. megumi's strenght definitely came from toji but mamagumi is where he got his steel of spine. so for nearly a decade, the zen'in family closed their family home and had some 'modernization' and that's why megumi barely knew satoru (despite the latter being gojo's clan heir).
during nobara-yuuji-megumi's first year (with yuta-maki-toge-panda as their second year senpais and hakari-kirara as their third year senpais!) they definitely gave yaga headache bcs the three got the nastiest luck and their missions mostly got derailed in the weirdest way. but the higher ups never really messed them bcs sukuna, after finding all of his fingers and thus got his own body at the end of the trio's first year, are very (reluctantly) protective of them.
when they got to second year, they never met satoru-shoko-suguru at the beginning bcs just a few days before the year started they somehow got derailed into another universe (and went universes-hopping and getting into crazy shenanigans!). the only reason why yaga (and kusakabe as their second year sensei) didn't fret is because uraume and tengen reassure them that the trio and sukuna are fine, but probably causing chaos in another universes.
shoko, as someone from a minor clan, has heard all of the gossip about their absent senpais but she didn't really pay attention to them because she thought they're too wild to be true (but mostly true). suguru, as someone from a mundane family, didn't know what to think about their absent senpais because he can accept the existence of curses and curse energy but surely universe-hopping are too crazy and science-fiction? satoru on the other hand, very much envy his senpais because he want to go on an adventure to a different universe too! also he's curious about their strength because from what he heard from the rumor mill, the three senpais are strong, tho definitely not the strongest like him.
(the sashisu trio already met their third year senpais, and for satoru it was a bewildering experience bcs what do you mean the timid okkotsu yuta is a special grade?? wait he's my distant relative?! maki zen'in didn't have curse energy and can't see curses?! but she's strong as fuck, yeah definitely trained by the Sorcerer Killer himself. a very good influence for shoko tho, and suguru def hit it off with yuta and they have some tea every once in a while like old men)
the trio plus sukuna finally come back just before the kyoto-tokyo goodwill events, which also how sashisu met the first year arata nitta, the second year kokichi muta, kasumi miwa, and noritoshi kamo, the third year mai zenin, momo nishimiya, and aoi todo aka yuuji's so called brother. the fourth years student, utahime and mei mei, even tho they can't participate they still come and meet the other students and hanging out with hikari and kirara as the other fourth years.
on day one of the event, a portal opened up on the school's ground when the others are already gathered around. shocked, they stand guard and got ready to attack but a few seconds later a familiar shout was heard and those who were familiar with the voice relaxed. nue flew in, nobara on her back, while they can see yuuji ran closer to the portal with megumi on his shoulder.
nobara : "faster guys, the portal brought us home!"
sukuna from a distance : "fucking finally!"
megumi : "sukuna, stop fighting them and come here quickly before the portal get closed!"
the other people stand still in shock, yuuji and megumi finally come through the portal, with sukuna suddenly appear behind them and push them quickly, making them tumble down with nobara too.
nobara : "thank god for tengen-sama because we're finally home!"
sukuna : "i'm fucking done with you brats, don't bother me for the next three years or there will be blood!"
yuuji, oblivious to how others see them : "no way! you told us you're gonna teach us the healing thing after we got home!"
yaga, done with everything : "so you finally back, huh?!"
yaga then scolded them in front of the others, while sashisu who just met them and still feel very shocked about everything can only just watch as their senpais, who looked very different and more mature than from the pictures, being scolded by their teacher while the being with huge pressure that can only be sukuna crossed all of his four arms and growled at everyone.
because of this very shocking event, the opening of the goodwill event got pushed for a day so the second year trio can rest a bit. they chatted instead, bringing sukuna into the fold too.
todo : "brother, what happened to your face?!"
maki : "kugisaki, what happened to your eyes?!"
satoru : "heyyy heard you're really sukuna the king of curses, how about we fight for a bit to see who's stronger?!"
sukuna, laughing meanly : "ah, you six eyes users are all the same even after a thousand years. yeah no, brat, ask me again when your power get more mature."
so satoru very much determined to fight sukuna, tried and failed to flirt with megumi bcs he's very much taken by yuuji and nobara, tried to flirt with sukuna instead but got flat out no because "you're still underage, what the fuck?!" while suguru laugh meanly at him at every rejection but also sadly weep himself while satoru and shoko laugh bcs he got rejected by mai zen'in. shoko instead mooned over her very much amazing and beautiful and strong senpais aka maki and nobara, and the girls taught shoko everything they knew.
when nanami and yuu start at jujutsu high, sashisu are more stable mentally bcs their senpais influence, and also crazier bcs they're not afraid of a lot of shits especially after sukuna got attach to them and reluctantly help them with a lot of shits.
in the end, yuu didn't die, suguru didn't defected, and satoru wasn't burdened by the title of the strongest alone but instead got a lot of comrades around him that also share his vision of a better jujutsu society. there's more chaos and even more universe-traveling shenanigans but this timeline is probs ended up better than other universe they visited.
--
(there's still a lot of shits i wanna write about them but maybe someday.......)
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n1ghttrouble · 23 hours ago
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F1 DRIVERS IF THEY WERE REGULAR GAY DUDES
(gay people I know/have met)
Before we start, pls know this is just for funsies and not like a guide or sumn for how to write them or wtv, of course, if any of these strike inspiration you're free to use these characterizations for any works.
Most of these are mixes of people I know irl, so none of it is meant as a diss or anything. ALSO there is a theme you'll start to notice in a lot of these bc I hang out in very specific groups lmao
tags contain everyone mentioned
Continue below cut
Max: First of all, bottom but could top for the right guy. Pup, sub, twinky but he’s not feminine enough to ever be called one. You either find him in the club or at home nursing a hangover, or in some older guy’s bed. Doesn’t use anything but alc but somehow knows where to find everything anyway. Also a nerdy gay (gamer loser boyfriend). Has a d/s contract. (also could be defined as “boy/boi” but that term is a bit controversial so)
Charles: Verse, always depends on his mood (and who he’s with). Drag queen, twunk, big into the leather scene. Big party gay, does poppers and coke, very careful about who he gets it from though. Always up to some shit and no one knows what his real job is or if he even has one, probably has a sugar daddy on the low (or he’s a circuit gay, both make sense). 
Carlos: Top, changes between dom/sub tho. Otter, leather daddy, brat tamer. DL kinda, in the sense that he keeps it strictly to nightlife but open to having a full-time relationship w a man. Strictly into twinks and slightly younger dudes. Has a d/s contract for sure.
Oscar: Verse, tops more. Only subs for people he really trusts (even as a sub he tops often). Pup handler/trainer (a pup when he’s a sub), twunk. Not big into parties unless he’s going with his dom, since he knows someone’s going to look after him and he can just relax. Newbie in the leather scene but into it. Has a very light d/s contract with a dom, essentially for learning (but also for having fun of course).
Daniel: Definition of verse, both in top/bottom and sub/dom. Jock, such a jock, like it’s not even funny. Pup handler, not into being a pup when he’s sub tho. Also lowkey a spunk monkey but I hate that term so no. Lives at pride events during June. Party gay once again, but on another level, he basically lives at the nightclub. Nobody knows how he has the energy (it’s drugs and red bull). Probably a circuit gay idk what other job he’d have the time for, maybe porn star. Has multiple d/s contracts.
Lando: BOTTOM do not argue with me abt this I don’t want to hear it. Sub but he’s so bratty he might as well be a dom if his top is a softie. The literal definition of a twink. Circuit gay and a DJ, also camboy on the side. Into the leather scene a little bit but intimidated by how much time you have to put into it. Does drag sometimes when he has the time. Obviously a clubber, does poppers, coke, and really anything in the club, but still careful. Wants a d/s contract but doesn’t have time for one.
George: Bottom, topped once and got tired of having to do so much. Essentially a pillow princess (even tho that’s a lesbian term but we’re using it for this). Twink, sub most of the time, can be bratty, into the leather scene. Not the biggest partier but he gets dragged along as the sober friend and then ends up hooking up with someone random. His friends make it home with or without him. Nerdy gay but not in the same way Max is. Very much an activist.
Lewis: Verse, tries to convince everyone that he’s strictly a top though (it never works). Jock (??) I don’t really know actually he’s a bit of an enigma when it comes to this. Very into the leather scene, like very into it. Makes his money modelling and uses the money to party and run charities. Runs at least five pride events around the world. Activist through and through. In an open relationship of like fifteen years. Young gays always call him a dilf and he tries to tell them he is not that old (has like three crises about his age a week). 
Fernando: Top when it comes to younger guys, verse when it comes to his husband. Bear, this is not biased at all, I definitely do not have a thing for bears and him, shhh. Leather daddy. Goes to leather events and average bars, hasn’t stepped foot into a nightclub in years. D.I.L.F. Open relationship with his husband & also a d/s contract. One of those really nice older gay guys who just seem so approachable and has answers to everyone’s questions.
Pierre: Top and dom. Surprisingly vanilla but he can get down with some basic kinks. Fuckboy™, everyone knows he has at least five twinks in his bed every week. Goes to parties but it’s to seek out more hookups. His phone is always the culprit of a distant grindr notif. Definitely uses one of those dating apps where you can see every guy’s location and can just go hook up wherever they’re at. (I swear I’m not dissing him but someone had to be like this)
Lance: Bottom, sub. Twink, unsurprisingly vanilla. One of those guys who has enough of his own money to not need a sugar daddy but has one anyway. Hosts a lot of parties but he’s rarely seen at them unless they’re very luxurious ones. The gay friend™, mostly has female friends and takes them out when their boyfriends are being assholes or they get stood up by a date. Fashion gay also.
Nico R.: Idk probably verse but I can easily also see him being strictly top or bottom so. Leans more to dom but def enjoys being sub too. If we’re talking about younger nico then twink 100%. Used to be a party gay and went to events at like 18-23 but got bored of it after that and settled down with a guy who definitely isn’t as relaxed as he is but he doesn’t mind it. (They fight about it all the time)
Sebastian: This guy is a bottom bro💀. Sub but like so bratty that sometimes it leans to the dom side. TWINK. Kind of into the leather scene in the sense that he goes to the parties and wears gear but he’ll rarely engage in the kink side of the community (not saying he’s vanilla).  Flirts with everyone in the club he can get his eyes on but rarely actually goes home with someone (he’s picky). I’m basing this off like red bull seb btw bc it’s the most fun era of his.
Mark: 100% top. He’s like a loser top tho even though he’s also a brat tamer but sometimes he doesn’t have energy for all that. Dom but like I said, sometimes he just cba to actually dominate. WOLF WOLF WOLF IDC WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYS. Into the leather scene yes bro is freaky w it too. Idk what I’m saying I’m tired. Um, so anyway. Yeah he doesn’t really go to parties unless his sub wants to go and he feels like tagging along. Has a few regular guys he fucks around with but doesn’t expand his horizons much. Also has a romantic partner.
Jenson: Completely depends on who he’s fucking and this goes for everything kink related. He’s a wolf too but tries to hold on to his twinkness from when he was younger. SLUT. Somehow hasn’t tired of partying and is still a circuit gay, has been one since he was like 22. He’s a fuckboy slut idk what more to say really, he’s just living his best life and I honestly love that for him. (this is very much exactly a guy I know sorry to that dude but)
any driver not mentioned is one I either didn't think of or just don't know well enough to give any kind of opinion on. Also if you need clarification for any terms pls ask and I'll explain😊
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autocrats-in-love · 4 hours ago
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(Yeah, so, I lost the ask, but this is what it said:)
Heyyy! So I was wondering if you could do something with a prince and a body guard. Basically the prince has a body guard but they don’t want one/don’t think they need one. They both hate each other and they banter a lot and the Prince thinks his body guard is useless and what not but one night someone sneaks into the palace and into the princes room where they try to kill or kidnap him. The Prince wakes up with a knife to their neck or a hand pressed against their mouth so they can’t scream. Maybe they struggle which causes something to be knocked over, alerting the body guard or maybe he yells body guards name…? idk. But the body guard finds out something is wrong somehow and the body guard barges into the princes room and finds the kidnapper/murderer/whatever pinning the Prince down, straddling his hips and holding his hands above his head so he can’t escape, maybe he has a knife or some ropes but the body guard comes in and fights off the enemy and the Prince and body guard have a cute “you saved me” enemies to lovers kind of thing? Do you see my vision? I trust that you do bc your amazing but no rush on writing thisssss I love youuu <33
Doing Your Solemn Duty
"For the last time,” the queen said, exasperated. “You are not to go anywhere without your bodyguard!”
“Come on, mom,” the prince groaned. “I can take care of myself!”
“Last month, you snuck off the grounds, and almost got killed.” the queen replied.
“But I didn’t. Because I can hold my own against some muggers.”
“What about an assassin?” the queen said. “What about someone coming in the middle of the night, and trying to kill you when you’re asleep? Will you be able to handle it with your skills of sleeping martial arts?”
The prince didn’t have an answer for that. The queen looked past him and nodded at his bodyguard. His bodyguard stepped forward, kneeling for his monarch. The prince rolled his eyes. 
“It is my solemn duty to keep your son safe. I promise, your majesty, I will protect him until my dying breath.” the bodyguard said.
The queen smiled for the first time since the conversation had began. Then she turned her gaze back on the prince. Her gaze said both, isn’t he lovely?, and, don’t you dare try to shake him. The prince didn’t agree with either. He sighed and turned around, ready to storm out of the throne room. 
“Well, come on,” he said, when he noticed his bodyguard was still kneeling.
The bodyguard got to his feet and hurried after the prince, who had already slammed the big double doors shut behind him.
“Can’t you just leave me alone? Maybe go on break or something,” the prince said.
The pair were in the prince’s bedroom. The bodyguard glowered at the prince. “Absolutely not. Even if I didn’t have a direct order from the queen, I don’t bend to the wills of stuck-up royalty.”
“And yet you do whatever my mother says.”
“Your mother-” the bodyguard pointed to the prince’s painting of a toddler him and the queen in the corner of the room. “-has worked hard to keep this kingdom safe and prosperous. You sneak out of the palace to gamble at pubs and deflower anyone who crosses your path.”
“Yeah, and? That’s what everyone does.”
“You have a duty to your kingdom to accomplish greatness.”
The prince fell back on his bed. “Can you stop sounding like the queen? And, if you’re really going to keep guarding me--which is completely unnecessary, I don’t need a babysitter--at least leave my room.”
The bodyguard hesitated. “The queen said-”
“I need to change my clothes, don’t I?” the prince said. “And I don’t want you watching me while I sleep.” 
The bodyguard sighed, but gave in. “I will wait right outside your door until the morning comes. Don’t even think about trying to escape.”
“Mhm,” the prince replied. “Can you get out, now?”
The prince slammed the door shut behind his bodyguard. At least he wouldn’t have to see that stupid face until the morning.
The prince was lying in his bed, asleep. But something was wrong. He was shifting into consciousness. He felt a tremendous weight on his chest. Something cold was pressing against his neck. His eyes slowly opened, and focused in the darkness. There was someone above him. Someone sitting on him. Someone dressed in black. Someone with a shiny knife pressed to his neck. The prince’s eyes darted to their open bedroom window. Then he started struggling. He bucked his hips, trying to get the assassin off him. He shifted and shimmied, but the assassin didn’t budge. The prince couldn’t make out their features in the dark, but he could hear their grating voice in his ear.
“Hello there, little prince,” the assassin said. “Stay still, now.” 
The prince ignored him and groggily reached for the knife. The assassin grabbed his arm and pressed the knife slowly, cutting off the prince’s airway. The prince wheezed and he bit the hand that held his arm. The assassin swore in pain, distracted. The prince shoved them off him, onto the ground. He jumped out of bed. The assassin came for him, swinging the knife at him. The prince jumped out of the way just in time. He had adrenaline coursing through his veins, now, his grogginess melting away.
“Come on, I’ll make this quick,” the assassin said, taunting.
The prince jumped out of the way of another swipe, knocking over a table of his with a very expensive vase. The vase fell to the ground and shattered. The assassin skittered back to avoid the broken china. The prince stared down in disappointment.
“You could have fed a family for a month with that vase,” the prince said, voice scratchy with sleep.
The prince bedroom door burst open. On the other side was the prince’s bodyguard. Right. The prince had forgotten about him. Right about now, the bodyguard’s  height and defined muscles looked pretty promising. To help stop the assassin, of course. The bodyguard clocked the knife, glinting in the moonlight, and immediately charged for the assassin. The assassin was quick, and avoided the bodyguard’s punches a few times. Until they stepped on a broken fragment of the prince’s vase. They slipped up a bit, allowing the bodyguard to hit them with a left hook that sent them crashing to the ground. The assassin swept the bodyguard’s leg, bringing him down too. It was a mistake, because now the bodyguard was on top of the assassin. The assassin panicked and brought the knife clumsily to the bodyguard’s face. The bodyguard hissed as it grazed his cheek. This gave the assassin an opening.They pushed the bodyguard off of them and rose unsteadily to their feet. Their eyes landed back on the prince. But then they shifted back to the bodyguard. The bodyguard’s eyes were clearly on the assassin. The prince couldn’t see his bodyguard’s face, but he could imagine the deadly stare. The assassin instead chose to back up. The bodyguard scrambled to his feet to go after the assassin, but they slipped out the window before the bodyguard could catch them. 
The prince stared in disbelief at what had just happened. He felt like he could finally catch his breath. He rushed to his bedside table to light a candle. He picked it up by the handle and, avoiding the vase, made his way over the bodyguard. He was still at the window, probably staring at the assassin disappearing over the countryside. Some palace guards were probably chasing them. 
“Hey,” the prince said. 
The bodyguard turned to the prince. “Hey. Are you alright?”
The prince nodded. “I am. Thanks to you. You saved me.”
The bodyguard smiled. For some reason, it made the prince dizzy. “Don’t thank me. I was just doing my job. I’ll always be here, protecting you. Even if you are stuck up and annoying.”
The prince laughed. “Fair.”
Then he noticed the bodyguard’s face. “ Uh, you’re bleeding.”
The bodyguard absently touched the blood trickling down his cheek. “Oh.”
“Here, just- I got it.”
The prince reached up with his sleeve and gently wiped away the falling blood. When he looked back up, the bodyguard was staring at him.
“What?” the prince said.
“I think I misjudged you.” his bodyguard said.
The prince felt himself blush. What was wrong with him? “Yeah, maybe I misjudged you, too.”
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lialuvsaven · 4 hours ago
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Icymi but also a little rambling about stuff I added here ( let me have this, I've spent more time w a dictionary writing this than I have in my last two years of highschool) and also bc I thought more writing this than I did any essay in my academic life 😔😔😔😔
1. The parchment shaped wall clock was supposed to be based on. This curio. I was so entraces by its design I pictured how something similar would look like as a clock (and yes this is a curio but it's weird looking enough that you can find it in some empty cardboard boxes or in the trash)
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2. The soup made with nettle leaves- is inspired from Cignidaki zumi— an actual Romani dish, soup made with stinging nettle leaves. I found a bunch of romani recipes but this one really caught my eye bc we have stinging nettle plant here I didn't know u can eat them until now.
3. The pink diamond bit is from the jade's timeline thing hsr posted a while ago ofc, I wanted to see a follow up on it and didn't get it so I made my own reality. I don't think finding out his birthday would take jade much effort bc A. The reports mention the avgin extinction being on their religious festival kakava and. His name is kakavasha. B. But other than that, checking his files (esp in the beginning) I like to think the system is advanced enough that it automatically concerts various dating systems and such (they're modern Enough to have the synesthesia beacon)
4. The corundum stone (god BLESS finding a stone similar to his eyes took YEARS OFF MY LIFE) it has other colors? Don't worry. Hsr has better gemstones. We can't even get the diamonds from Uranus.
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5. I have.... negative feelings about jade, if you couldn't tell. I tried not to make her like a completely evil lady, but given how she did call him to "talk" post penacony main quest in canon (it had layers too) I like to think between his whole thing in penacony and later actions she thought he might need a reminder. And shed know to pick a good time.
6. virtually no way for the reader to know his personal info if he doesn't give them UNLESS she knows someone like Jade. Had they asked topaz, she'd tell them that he doesn't like it (bc the stonehearts' birthdays and such are an occasion for a party/dinner/ etc, upper class socializing stuff (that is important to the business and cause) but aventurine doesn't do THAT even tho he does throw those necessary parties anyway. So it's obvious that he. Doesn't like celebrating it at least if nothing else. Later scrapped that cuz.... that's a lot of thinking
7. I thought of adding the catcakes bc cats (pets) are a great source of comfort for So many people. And they're incredibly good at sensing human emotions. And (canonically) they're said to be as intelligent as a 6 year old so. The catcakes remind him of food when aventurine is lost in his thoughts (and it doesn't feel like it's pleasant), to distract him and direct him towards a task. They all gather around him when he starts drinking bc while they likely don't understand the concept of drinking well they DO know he's distressed, so keeping him company to help him. They'd be a little freaked out to see him emotional I imagine, bc that's not something they ever saw (hence the immediate nervous attempt at comforting by nuzzling into him) I looked up how real cats act to write this and now I want a kitty do bad 😞😔
I also like. Didn't keep them in focus at all bc like....he's not in the headspace to think about them much. But they keep showing up bc that IS his family, too .
8. Dismissing a comforting smell as a potion seems something he'd do. There's actually an all good potion ( consumable) in hsr and while THAT one didn't end up in the market there's def similar stuff already. I imagine something that makes hospital food feel comforting for the patients would be popular, hence that conclusion
9. Kakavasha's shoes . I actually thought they were different when I wrote this but later realized that they seem ....to be modified. Mended maybe? But yeah. Only a pair of shoes
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10. His mother smells of creosote bush. This species is found in the deserts of southwestern North America, and is said to smell of the desert rain. For a child who was blessed by rain on his birth day I think his mother likely smelt of rain, too.
11. I wanted to add in a scene with Aventurine's secretary to show she really NEVER looks at his eyes because they're. Usually seen as freaky and odd by people. And paired with the discomfort itself, she'd naturally be more careful to not do that to not offend him (him being her boss and. Because he knows how everyone sees them.) not like that's what HE wants, but what she assumes. But I decided to scrap that lol
12. Also he only managed to cry that much bc he was inebriated lol I don't think he'll ever cry like that otherwise (plus his house is empty so he doesn't have to hide it(
And I wrote down about him still remembering the painful memories with his family (while he tries to forget the extinction event desperately) bc he needs to Preserve their memory and spent like 10 minutes thinking about it preservation.... preservation....
But anyway that's about it!!
Happy Birthday, Aventurine!!
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“Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.
Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget his birthday, again.”
Pairing: Aventurine x reader
Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort in the end to compensate for everything else ❤️ Reader is not physically present in the fic (they're not dead it's ok)
wc: 3.3k
Aventurine was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door just as the sun began to slant westward.
With a sigh, he puts down the pen and glances at the wall clock. The hands on the parchment-shaped monstrosity read 1 pm, but his eyes are drawn back to the purple tongue protruding from its massively extended mouth. Seriously, where does Stelle find these items? "An ugly, purple parchment shaped wall clock that looks like it's ready to eat people"— isn't something most people would think to give him, to say the least. But that's the thing—it was Stelle.
She claimed to have found it during one of her "excavations." And even though Miss March 7th did her best to keep her friend from going into further details, stepping on Stelle's toes right in front of him and giving her a sidelong glance, as if he wouldn't notice, he could tell what kind of "excavations" would turn up something like this. Not like he minds the origins of this gift, however. Gifts from friends are few and far to come by, especially ones who actually tolerate him. Not to mention, Stelle likely sincerely believes that it's a cool gift, which is why it has replaced the diamond-embedded wall clock on his wall.
His musings are interrupted by a second knock, which, like the first one, reverberates once around the room before fading away in embarrassment. "Come in." He announces, reclining back in his seat and looking at the door with expectation in his eyes. It was not uncommon for his secretary to appear randomly in his office, constantly fussing over yet another minor issue. He believed it was her; at least, his itinerary showed he didn't have any guest visits today. Maybe it was time to replace assistants—the new hire is clearly not on the same wavelength as him. But he'd only recently had Topaz yell at him for changing staff so frequently; he'd prefer not to tell her that her choice was horribly disappointing just yet.
With a tiny bag bearing a brand he is all too acquainted with, the secretary enters the office. She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor the entire time, hence doesn't notice when her supervisor raises an eyebrow at the sight of his favorite jewelry brand. "Sir," she says in a low, somewhat flat voice, akin to that of a news reporter. "Earlier, a staff of Madam Jade stopped by. You have a present."
A grin appears on Aventurine's face, followed by a joyful chuckle. With how busy work has been lately, he'd almost forgotten when he asked Jade for a pink diamond, as has Jade apparently, seeing how long it's taken for her to send this. His request was a joke, of course, only meant to irritate Topaz. But he wasn't surprised either; Jade always takes good care of her weaponry. "Ahhh, no wonder!" He chirps and presses his palms together. "She must've finally found some generosity in her heart, hm?" He muses, and his assistant can only stand there stoically. He waves her off as she places the bag on his table and departs with an unnecessary low bow, never looking at his eyes once. As always.
When the secretary has left the room, he opens the bag, humming as he removes the box and gift card. Jade's handwriting is distinctive: prim and precise cursive that resembles a font.
"Happy birthday, Aventurine. This jewel would suit you far better than the pink diamond you asked for, don't you think?" — Jade
Kakavasha freezes. His birthday, she says, but she'd need to align the standard calendar system to the Sigonian one to find that out. She sent him a…..….a gift? For his birthday? 
Is this a fucking joke?
The box reveals a chunk of corundum. Raw, uncut, pink and blue hues all over. Shades way too close to his eyes, and it doesn't take a gemologist to tell that Jade had done her searching thoroughly to obtain this. A jewel the color of his eyes, the color of Avgin eyes, neatly wrapped in a box for….to send ..what sort of message, exactly? Oh Avgin, never forget who you were before I found you—unpolished and undeserving. forget your name, but never your roots.  
The note is crumpled and thrown in the trashcan, while the corundum and its box are hastily and carelessly pushed back into the bag. Really, so typical of Jade, he scoffs as he tosses the godforsaken bag into a random drawer, never to be seen again. 
Kakavasha— no, Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.
Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget, again. 
In any case, Aventurine concludes that it is not good for him to worry about this too much. Yes, he can just forget about the corundum. Yes, he is able to forget how it resembled Avgin eyes. Yes, he can also forget that Jade most likely sent this to "keep him in check" following the stunt he did in Penacony. But it was a mistake on his part to not see something coming. She had done this before, and it would not be the last time. He smiles at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, composed, shrewd, and calculated. Since a mirror has the freedom of choice, it does not return his smile.
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By the time the car comes to a stop in front of his house, Aventurine is exhausted. His chauffeur unlocks the door for him, and he makes his way to the elevator. Yet he's interrupted again— of course, because it's a cursed day, and Aventurine has to restrain himself from scowling at the gateman, who stands in front of him wearing an anxious expression. "Sir, your friend had visited earlier to drop off something."
He raises an eyebrow and is about to inquire when he notices the bag the man is carrying. Without saying anything further, he simply takes the bag. You are the only one who'd own a dumb clockie bag and the only one who'd ever drop things off at his place.
When he steps in, his three catcakes meow loudly to greet him, and feels somewhat grateful for it. Today was just too exhausting, after all. He understands what this is about, based on the fact that you always give him gifts in person. Why, of all days, would you consider dropping it off today? And with no advanced notice- completely unlike you. How annoying, did Jade really have to do this too? He's never disclosed his birthday to you, so you probably coerced her into telling you, and she was glad to oblige, given you are of value to her.
Aventurine doesn't realize he's been standing in the kitchen for a long time until Spade begins massaging its fluffy body on his legs. He is surrounded by his three catcakes, who are all staring up at him expectantly. The message is crystal clear: We Want Food. He moves swiftly to get their food bowls, chuckling to himself before setting your lunchbox on the counter, sort of as an afterthought. At least they'll be able to go to bed well fed tonight. 
After serving them dinner, he leaves the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine, hoping to spend the remainder of the evening crashing on the couch. He can just leave everything else for tomorrow. The benefit of drinking is that it can temporarily impair your ability to sense emotions. He only needs a short term fix, after all. Come tomorrow, he'll take hangover pills, and walk out of this house as Aventurine of the stratagems again— undoubtedly.
He turns on a random B-grade movie, prepared to drink the night away. And he does precisely that—he pushes down thoughts of how his childhood friends, whose features now misty in his memories, would react if they were to see him. With another shot, he pushes down recollections of his mother's cooking—the special meals for the Kakava—and his birthday. Another to accept the now-blurry face of his sister in his memory as the only proof of her existence. Another to forget the clay dolls she'd made for him, on the last birthday kakavasha got to celebrate, that were broken when he had to run for his life. And one more shot, and another, till he's forgotten everything; till he's numb and emotionless.
Feeling empty and hollow is far worse than anything else, and being unable to cry isn't as pleasant as he thought it'd be. But in his lavish home, where gold abounds in every nook and cranny, he has little reason for tears. Money may not be able to buy him happiness, as he is well aware, but it certainly does spare him from ugly tears unfit for his visage. Maybe that's why he hasn't cried in a while, or perhaps he has simply lost his soul somewhere along the way. He stays on the couch till 3 am, accompanied by his pets. He pretends not to see the troubled looks they shoot at him, whispered words passed between them that are clearly about him. By the time he decides to rest for the night, he is fatigued, sluggish, and barely keeping it together.
When he gets up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, Ace makes a protesting noise before promptly shutting up. Catcakes are smart creatures, and they understand him better than most individuals in his life (or maybe the difference lies in care) His throat is dry, and ice cold water from the freezer provides enormous relief. However, the respite is taken away from him by the crackling lightning, loud as a whip, pulling out memories up to the forefront of his mind again. Of the lightning without the rain, of Sigonia-IV. The drumming of the thunder is largely hidden by the concrete walls, so it isn't as hard on the ear—but it aches a lot more than it did before. Aventurine sneers to himself, dismissing the idea as ludicrous. As if.
The second time the thunder sizzles, Aventurine has to take a sharp breath and grip the countertop to steady himself. It sounds like playing dead in the bleeding streams of Sigonia-IV, like the booming cackle of the mocking thunder. Had he been an insolent child, just a little more doubtful than he already was, he'd believe it was Mama Fenge herself laughing at her so called "blessed child". The thunder sounds similar, but it's not the same. No, because this is still Aventurine and he's still here and those are someone else's memories, forgotten and buried in sand.
Aventurine sighs.
Drinking too much has never done any good to him.
Just as he is ready to leave the kitchen, he notices the lunchbox sitting the counter out of the corner of his eye. Oh, right. He hadn't even touched it. A distraction doesn't seem bad now, though. If he wants to fabricate a plausible lie about eating the food, he would at least need to know what kind of food you sent. If the mental image of your frown after discovering he never even looked at what you sent is what gives him the final push , he would never admit it.
The lunchbox has a plains bear cub logo: you've always been a sucker for cute things. He sets aside the little note attached for later this time, preferring to taste the dinner first. It looks like you chose to make him some kind of soup. Insulated lunchboxes are a blessing— because it's surely been well over half a day since you made it, yet it's still warm. While the presentation is relatively simple, it smells strangely comforting— effect of some potion? He's heard of those, but they're usually used for sick patients, no? Other than that, this is the first homemade meal he's having in a….while. Not that it matters. Aventurine isn't picky, and while the leafy greens are unfamiliar to him, he believes he can handle at least a tablespoon.
Even the largest avalanche can be triggered by the smallest of things. Just one spoonful, and yet it's enough to make his world stop.
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The dry, broken soil scraped against his bare feet, producing little clouds of dust in its wake. His strides were light and rapid, nearly tripping over himself with excitement and giddiness. Just a little more, and he'll reach the finish line. Even the Sun's typical glare felt kind today; warm and tender against his tanned skin. Jumping over the homemade hurdles, he reaches the finish line far ahead of his friends. They protest and pout, and he taunts them with the biggest smile on his face. The soles of his feet feel slightly sore from running barefoot, but Kakavasha wouldn't risk destroying his only pair of shoes for a game. 
When he hears his sister's voice calling for him, he rushes to embrace her and buries his face in her apron. His mother once told him that the Avgins all possess lovely voices, but Kakavasha believes his sister's is the best, especially when she laughs.
"And when will you listen to me and stop running around in the middle of the day, hm?" She pinches his nose and uses her apron to wipe the dirt off his face. Kakavasha beams at her with no regrets, proudly displaying the gap between his teeth. Once kakavasha had said his goodbyes to his friends, they walk hand in hand towards their tent.
There, his mother welcomes them with a warm embrace that smells like creosote bush and desert rain. “My darling," she coos, putting his small hands in her larger ones, rough from labour. "I remember you promised to be on time for lunch last time?" He grins cheekily, vowing not to do it again. (He's a repeat offender, but he knows that his mother and sister can't stay upset at him for long.)
His mother laughs, and tells him to tidy up before eating. Kakavasha's tummy is grumbling by the time he returns, and he finds the mats his sister laid down to sit on. The two siblings sit next to each other, chatting and giggling as they wait for their mother. She serves them a pot of hot soup with nettle leaves and lentils, just the way Kakavasha prefers it. He's overjoyed; quickly finishing his prayers before digging in. Kakavasha is a growing boy, and that's proved again when he finishes his bowl before his family.
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The soup she'd served him back then wasn't anything lavish; just a simple soup with local herbs and nettle leaves in a broth that smelt so uniquely of hers. His mama may have had a knack for cooking, but due to a lack of opportunities and resources, she never got to demonstrate her abilities. Compared to that, your food is much finer, and while excellent, it lacks the warmth of his mother's hands.  
Nevertheless, he can't resist taking another spoonful and quickly putting it in his mouth because the familiarity is so, so palpable. He recalls that his sister wanted him to eat better, so she gave him half of her portion after he finished his. His mother then gave his sister half of her portion, as they are Both growing children. All of a sudden, the bickering, the laughs, and their voices are as plain as day in his mind. He can't fully recall the glitter in his sister's eyes or the dimple on his mother's cheek, but it's clearer than any other memory he had of them, that's for sure. 
Aventurine can't stop crying, even if he wants to. Trying to halt the choking sobbing is fruitless, as is trying to figure out what's going on. He picks up the little message with shaking hands, hoping—praying—that it will help. You'll make it make sense. Somehow.
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“Dear Aventurine, I hope you have a wonderful birthday!!!!”  
Written in thin, flowing, rounded letters that are noticeably cleaner than your actual handwriting. You undoubtedly put a lot of effort into each letter you wrote. Aventurine was correct in assuming you found out his birthday through Jade, as you have written it here. "Buying a gift for you seems…a little perfunctory," you said, "so I've settled with cooking you something myself."
"And if the dish tastes familiar (which I hope it does) then yes, you've guessed it right— it's a traditional Avgin dish."
The perfumed ink is thicker here, a few ink blots from where you've likely paused to think, go over each sentence in your head before writing them down.
You mention finding the Avgin dishes by reading some kind of research paper on Sigonian culture and food, but Aventurine isn't sure he can believe that. You wrote, "I was fortunate enough," yet chance alone wouldn't get you something like that. Sure, maybe some doctoral candidate was crazy enough to choose a dead planet and its deader tribes to write about, but finding that paper would be too difficult. The biggest issue, however, is that Aventurine believes this dish should not and cannot exist. The stinging nettle leaves his mother used are no longer available, and while he didn't know much about cooking at the time, he was aware that all of the spices he knew were almost extinct. He's looked enough to know.
"I'll be honest, I had some trouble locating the ingredients for it and had to swap the majority of them because I couldn't find them. I really wanted to bring back a familiar feeling, even if it tastes very different from how you remember it. Plus, it's the thought that counts, right?"
In contrast to the light-hearted language, your writing is slightly wobbly and darker here, and Aventurine wonders if you realise your emotions seep through every single one of your actions, laid bare for the world to see.
Noting the disappearance of their owner, curious, the catcakes peep into the kitchen are immediately alarmed to see their owner sitting on the counter stool, sobbing and clutching a box. Spade, unsure of what to do, nuzzles it's head on Aventurine's leg, while the others meow in an attempt to calm him down. Aventurine hasn't sobbed in a long time—he can't remember how to anymore. His body shakes with each ragged and broken sob, sounding shattered and damaged, but he can't stop.
"I hope it brings you fond memories" is what you wrote down, but are you aware of the full impact of what you did for him? Most likely not. Aventurine cherishes all of his memories, including the unpleasant ones: as long as it involves his family. His misery knows no bounds, but he's only had a few years with his sister, and even fewer with his mother. So even the saddest memories are never forgotten, so he can preserve as much of them as possible. They live through his memories, after all. 
Even when plain, his mother's meals provided him with more warmth than anything else back then. To feel that warmth decades later is a blessing he can't repay— but a blessing nonetheless. He doesn't have many memories like this one either, gentle and happy, contrary to the endless memories of struggling. He remembers their love so vividly right now, feels it so strongly, alongside yours— that he has no choice but to revel in it.
(Come tomorrow , when he's sober, puffy-eyed from crying and not as vulnerable, he'll have trouble figuring your reasoning. But for now, he'll be fine. Tonight, he'll go to sleep feeling loved. Tonight, his pets will cuddle him to sleep. Tonight, he'll dream of a Sigonia Only he knows.)
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A/N: I'm honestly still so embarrassed about this bc I have an idea but can't execute it like I want to and 🫠🫠 As always, comments and reblogs are really appreciated!! Thank you for reading <3
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wonwoonlight · 2 years ago
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So torn about being shameless and absolutely just get rid of my pride asking for feedbacks or just being like fuck it im just not gonna write if i dont get any lol
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mattodore · 2 months ago
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birthday boy 🎂
#river dipping#theodore doe#matthias evanoff#a burning house to live in#echthroi#ts4#ts4 edit#simblr#ts4 screenshots#theo i hope you're having the most insane birthday sex rn i hope it's ******** and ***** and ***'** **** *** **** ***** :)<3#sorry i put off making your birthday edit for so long that i had to pivot and post this edit instead of the one i wanted </3#...very funny how similar this is to that LAST render i posted... well so WHAT!! if i think matthias looming is sexy!!#this is based on a photo that everyone was drawing their ocs as so really it's not MY fault he's back there clinging and being a freak#actually if y'all want this pose lmk... i'll share it but fyi it's only meant to be seen from the waist up and idk how it'd look#on a sim that doesn't have the same muscle mass and like. bulk. that matthias has......................................#just got rock hard after typing that... anyway.#HAPPY BIRTHDAY THEO <333333333 LOVE YOU SO MUCH I PROMISE I'M GONNA KEEP WORKING ON THE //ACTUAL// BIRTHDAY EDIT!! like .#posted abt this on the sideblog but the real edit i have planned for him is making me lose my fucking gourd#and it'll probably take me :))) a few more days to figure out#expect a depressing theo-as-a-teenager edit eventually tho. with writing!! accompanying it!!#matthias's face has changed again btw 😭 i redid it almost immediately after i posted that first render attempt so he looks DIFFERENT!!#i posted screenshots of him in cas just the other day on my other acc and he looks so good in them i might post them here too#oh and!! this edit looks massively different than my last because this screenshot was taken with a new preset i made specifically for#the real birthday edit i'm working on... it's a hallway scene so i figured out depth and density to get this really cool fog effect#i'm really excited for it!! in my head the way it looks makes me crazy but idk if i can pull it off properly. but like i WAS SAYING!!#new preset is sooo sexy after i post this i'll reblog with the before and after to show you how good it looks even w/o any editing#like. the colors....... literally have always wanted a preset like this i'm so glad i spent yesterday fucking around with it#ALSO!! i've been doing those oc/ship dynamic templates for fun recently so i might post a few of them here soon#realize i'm rambling so much in these tags bc i haven't been here in forever kfjnkfjhn ummmmm. let me stop.#EVERYONE WISH THEO HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIGHT NOW 🫵‼
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