#because they usually remember what fun looks like

[riieeuu]

❝ You can’t make her fall for you even in a year. ❞

When Gojo Satoru takes on a reckless challenge, a simple game turns into something far more complicated. But not all feelings come without a cost.

“Let alone a month? Impossible.”

Geto had said, sipping his drink with that knowing smirk of his — just enough to needle Gojo, to fuel him the way only he could.

The challenge hit the air like a spark against gasoline.

Gojo tilted his head, all swagger and ease, flashing a grin sharp enough to cut glass.

“This’ll be a piece of cake. Watch me.”

Everyone in their year knew you. Or rather, they knew of you. Quiet, solitary, with a stare that could silence a room and a voice so rarely heard, it felt like a secret. You sat alone at lunch. Read between classes. Moved like mist through the halls — untouchable. Unbothered. And you didn’t like noise, or crowds, or arrogance — the very things Gojo Satoru practically bled.

You were also striking. Not in the curated, social media kind of way. No, yours was the kind of beauty that demanded nothing. Magnetic. Natural. Elusive. The kind people looked at twice, even when you tried to disappear.

It was supposed to be a game.

The first day, he found you tucked beneath a tree between buildings, a book open in your lap and your headphones in. He approached with his usual bravado — lazy smile, hands shoved into his pockets, sunglasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. A practiced flick of hair, a sparkle of teeth.

“You know,” he said, voice cocky, “I'm jealous of that book. You're always staring at it.”

You looked up slowly. Then — you smiled. Not big. Not bright. But real.

“Dummy,” you said and turned a page.

That smile stuck with him longer than it should’ve.

The days blurred after that. Every morning became a new experiment in seeing that smile again. He slid into the seat next to yours before class, just to read his horoscope aloud:

“Apparently I’m fated to have a mysterious romance with someone who hates fun. Sound familiar?”

He brought you coffee — black, no sugar, just how you took it, of course he did his homework about you. He quoted lines from your favorite author (he stayed up late the night before memorizing them). He lingered at the vending machine between periods because you always passed through at 10:15.

Once, during a sudden downpour, you shared your umbrella with him, both of you pressed close beneath the shallow canopy. Your hand brushed his. Neither of you moved.

But what disarmed him wasn’t your beauty. It was you.

You weren’t cold. You weren’t aloof. You were thoughtful. Dry-humored. The kind of clever that came without arrogance. You asked questions when he spoke, even when he was being ridiculous. You remembered things he hadn’t meant to say.

And you made him laugh. Not his usual performative kind, but a real, breathless, rib aching laugh he hadn’t known he’d missed.

He still cracked jokes. He still wore his sunglasses indoors and teased Nanami until he got that quiet glare in response. But when he was around you, he slowed down. Spoke softer. Listened harder. Sometimes, he didn’t even try to impress you — just sat near you in the courtyard while you read, the silence between you both soft and weightless.

One afternoon, he offered to carry the stack of books you’d borrowed from the library. You paused, eyes flicking to his hands like you weren’t used to people offering. Then you handed them over without a word. At your dorm door, as you took them back, your fingers grazed his.

That night, he lay awake in bed replaying that brush of contact, wondering if you’d felt it too —or if he was just losing his mind.

He stopped talking about the bet. Stopped joking about it with Geto. Stopped needing to prove anything.

There was a look in your eyes now — calm. Trusting. He didn’t want to break. Ever.

You made him feel seen. Not as the loudmouth rich prodigy. Just as a boy. A boy who didn’t quite know what to do with the weight in his chest when you looked at him like that.

So when the thirtieth day came — though he hadn’t counted in weeks — he asked you to meet him on the rooftop.

The city was dipped in gold. The sun was just beginning to fall. It was quiet up there. Open sky, gentle wind. Your kind of peace.

You sat beside him on the ledge, legs dangling, your shoulder brushing his. You talked. About everything and nothing. The color of the sky. The taste of that strawberry flavored gum you hated.

He cracked a dumb joke — something about marrying you just to create a tiny version of himself that would terrorize the world with your face and his attitude.

You laughed. Harder than he expected. You leaned into him without thinking.

He turned toward you — really turned this time. Looked at you like you were something sacred, memorizing your features as if committing them to memory.

“I’m in love with you,”

He murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, hand lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Your gaze dipped to his mouth. Eyes half-lidded. The breath between you two thinned.

“I know, i...”

You whispered and leaned in. Just as his lips grazed yours—

Crack.

The slap echoed in the quiet. Not harsh. Not angry. Just… decisive.

Gojo blinked. His cheek stung, but that wasn’t what hurt.

You stepped back. Calm. Poised. The soft edge of your voice sharpened with finality.

“I know,” you said again, voice steady as ever. “The bet’s over now. You can drop the act.”

Then you turned and walked away. No parting glance. No trembling. No explanation.

Just the quiet click of the rooftop door closing behind you and the echo of your absence ringing louder than anything else.

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru sat in silence, no grin , no comeback—

Alone with the weight of his own heart.

You knew from the very start. That’s why you played along — because it was a challenge for you too: to shatter his ego, piece by piece, with a smile.

The sunset dimmed behind you, fading just as you did — from his game, from his reach, from him.

That slap didn’t hurt, Gojo thought — because as your hand struck his cheek, he could feel that you were the one hurting more.

And because he knew — deep in that quiet part of himself — that he was the reason for your pain, he felt the burn rise until it slipped down his cheeks.

contemplating if I should make a part2

[girllblogging777]

TOTAL RECALL ౨ৎ

IN WHICH you get to know your coworker spencer, and try to take him off guard with questions

“alright, we got a new case in LA,” you spoke up, entering the briefing room where the rest of the team was already sitting. the sound of your voice made them all look up, and you tried to appear as confident as you could, despite the way your hands were holding tightly onto some documents.

today was your first day as the communications liaison of the BAU, and as much time as you’d spent training with JJ before she went on maternity leave, handling your first case by yourself was quite pressuring.

especially when you were surrounded by people whose job is to decode body language. remembering this, you immediately tilted your head upwards and shoulders back, before beginning to explain the case.

“four girls under the age of 25 have been abducted in the past two months. including two this week,” you spoke, walking around the table to hand the files to all of your new colleagues.

one of the agents, a brown haired boy you’d previously seen around, asked as he took the documents from you.

“are they under or over 21 ? because the statistics are entirely different within this range,” he explained, the rest of the team not even budging as he began rambling.

“three years ago, women over 21 represented about 65 thousands of missing persons files - 64 thousands nine hundred and fifty six to be exact…”

the man sitting next to the technical analyst smirked at you when he noticed the look of bewilderment on your face. “don’t mind the pretty boy,” he chuckled “he’s our walking encyclopaedia”

⋆˚࿔

about an hour later, after some more debriefing, you and the rest of the team boarded the jet. you sat down next to the window, fingers drumming against your thigh before a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“do you mind ?” the brunette (whose name you’d discovered was actually spencer) spoke, fingers pointing at the seat next to yours.

you shook your head, motioning for him to sit down next to you which he did, careful not to disturb your personal space.

the others were all busy talking to eachother, or reviewing the case while the plane took off, and you focused on the steady humming of the engine to distract you from the boy next to you.

“so, walking encyclopaedia, huh ?” you joked, echoing morgan’s words in attempt to get to know him a bit more. you were going to have to work together for a while, after all.

he turned to face you, his expression a bit sheepish.

“i just uh, have an… eidetic memory ?” he suggested, weighing each of his words, assuming that just like everyone else, you’d simply characterise him as a nerd and move on with it.

realising they were not joking about the extent of his intellect, you tilted your head. that was going to be interesting.

“oh, total recall ?”

“basically, yes.” he answered, and you noticed the slightest hint of a smile creeping up on his, now that you thought about it, very pretty face. “but unlike photographic memory, it includes auditory memories and other sensory aspects.”

“woah… so could ask you anything and you’d just know ?”

he wanted to tell you that this was not how it worked, that he could only remember things if he’d ever actually learnt them before. but the way you were leaning towards him and seemed genuinely interested made him want to keep appearing smart to you.

eventually, he realised that the conversation was taking a turn, and becoming a quizz. but spencer couldn’t blame you, that’s what people were usually prone to doing when they learnt about his memory. except this time, he actually was having fun.

“so, do you know like…” you looked around, trying to think of something to ask before your gaze dropped to the cereal bar in your bag. “how many granola bars are consumed every year ?”

a second. his lips pursed.

“about 808.5 million units. the global average of cereal bars consumers is 37%.”

your jaw almost dropped, you had to ask something else.

“and the current population of new zealand ?”

“5 millions two hundred and twenty three… that was two years ago” he answered so quickly that you almost wondered if you should look for an “off” button on his forehead.

“okay, that’s super impressive…” you said, shifting in your seat so you could face him. “i know it’s probably tough though, knowing everyone expects you to know everything and having to live up to their expectations…”

at that, his eyes darted down. he didn’t expect you to say that, especially since you were simply getting to know him. and yet, it felt like you saw right through him already.

“it can get a bit rough sometimes… especially when i feel like i’m not able to use my knowledge properly for a case and it just feels like… like i’m failing everyone.” he said, feeling strangely comfortable admitting this to you, even if you were the newest member here.

you simply nodded, wanting him to know you agreed.

“come on, you’re human. you may be smart, but of course you’re going to be taken off guard at some point.” your voice was light, and reassuring.

“it’s not like you’re gonna know the name of… i don’t know, the deadliest jellyfish in the world”

a chuckle escaped his lips and his chocolate eyes locked with yours. “chironex fleckeri ? commonly known as the sea wasp, or the box jellyfish,” he stated, “the venom can cause death within minutes”

yeah, you obviously still had a lot to learn about him. and about jellyfishes too, apparently.

[ssahotchnerr]

what about an Ellie-verse where they have a family day planned but Aaron got home from a case super late the night before and is exhausted but trying to hide it/power through and reader assures him that he’s allowed to be tired and they have a movie day at home instead! I think of the quote where Hotch says he felt like he constantly had to be the perfect Dad and husband because he only had a short amount of time and it makes me so sad for him :-(

rain check

my heart 🥺 cw; girl dad!aaron, fem!reader, established relationship, reader is referred to as mom, hurt to comfort - aaron is self-deprecating per usual, domestic fluff <3 wc; 1.5k

One second, Aaron’s eyes were shut, his head resting comfortably against his pillow as he slept soundly beside you. What felt like the next: Ellie pouncing onto his chest.

He startled, opening his eyes and finding her sweet face. He couldn’t be annoyed, nor could he help the way his heart warmed immediately at the sight of her - how he's missed her the last couple days.

"Hi Daddy."

"Morning El Bel." He mumbled sleepily, "what're you doing?"

"Mommy asked me to quietly check if you're awake." Her tiny brows furrowed, tilting her head to get a better view of him as if she couldn't already tell. "Are you awake?

He chuckled, yawning into his words, "I'm awake."

"Good." She looked pleased. "C'mon it's zoo day!" Her hands landed on his chest, shaking him lightly. "We're gonna see monkeys."

"Really? I think there's already a monkey right here." He teased, tickling her side and releasing a plethora of giggles.

Ellie's talk pulled him out of bed - Elephants. Lions. What's your favorite animal? Jack wants to see the snakes, but they're scary. Mom is packing a lunch so we can have a picnic. She only left at his suggestion she should go help you, specifically, choosing his sandwich for him.

He showered, and nearly fell back asleep in the process, counterintuitive to what he had hoped would wake him up. The stream of warm water hitting his tense muscles relaxed them immensely, melting the stiffness from his shoulders and dulling the edge of his thoughts.

Once he pulled himself out, he got dressed, shaved, going through the motions hazily with a heavy body. The lack of sleep was already giving him a migraine, pulsating behind his eyes.

"Hey," you poked your head into the bathroom. "You almost ready?"

"Yeah, sorry." Aaron nodded, capping the ibuprofen. "Just taking a while to catch my bearings this morning."

Your eyes moved from the medicine bottle to him. It was dark when he climbed into bed, late, and you could vaguely remember the weight of his body settling down beside you, tossing an arm around your middle and scooting close.

And this morning, you had awoken before him, so now you had the opportunity to really look at him. The bags under his eyes - while always there - were more prominent. His eyes lacked their sparkle, drowned by the weight of pure fatigue. You could always tell when he needed a day, and he needed a day.

"Aaron..."

He recognized your concerned tone, immediately waving it off. "I'm fine."

"But-"

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He insisted, placing a kiss on your cheek on his way out. "Don't worry. It's going to be a fun day."

But naturally, you worried.

Any normal day, you would've been out of the house in less than an hour. When initially making the family day plans, the goal was to leave around 10 am. Or in Aaron time - 9:45, and it was already quarter after. Aaron, being Aaron, never deviated from schedule; the tardiness alone would have been enough of a sign that he was off his game, but when paired with everything else, it was quite damning.

As Jack - the ever helpful big brother - helped Ellie tie her shoes, you cornered your husband in the kitchen, watching him pour an extra large cup of coffee.

"Why don't we take a rain check?"

"Hm?"

"It's going to rain." You lied bluntly and badly, the fib so undeniably obvious.

"No it's not." Aaron laughed gently, his eyebrows quirking lightly in confusion. "I checked this morning. The radar is perfectly clear."

"Aaron, you're exhausted," you stated the obvious, sympathetically. "Do you really want to be on your feet all day long? And how's that headache of yours?"

Silence was his answer, screwing the to-go lid shut slowly. His tired eyes found yours, defeated. "Ellie's been looking forward to this. As has Jack."

Moving in front of him, your hands found his shoulders, offering his rigid muscles a soothing squeeze. "We can do something fun here. The zoo isn't going anywhere."

Dropping his head, he huffed a laugh, a rather disappointed-in-himself one at that. "Yeah, but I am."

Your brows crinkled in confusion. "What?"

"Any second, my phone could ring and I'm gone again." He said, his eyes rolling ever so slightly. "It's best to take advantage of what we can do when I'm here. And I am. What if the next time, it does rain?"

"Then we accommodate again." You solved easily, bringing a hand to his cheek. "Listen to your body Aar. Taking a day off isn't going to make you any less than a father. It's okay."

"And what, give them another reason to be disappointed in me?"

You frowned, "you know that's not true."

"I'm sorry." He sighed with a head shake. He did, but still gently admitted under his breath. "But that's how I feel."

"I know honey, and I wish you didn't. You don't give yourself enough credit." Your thumb stroked his skin sadly, releasing a breath from your nose. "They'll understand."

His gaze moved off to the side, unconvinced. "I don't know-"

"Are we going now?" Jack's voice entered the kitchen. Ellie was at his side - her tiny backpack on and ready to go.

You shared a quick look with Aaron, whose jaw was tight, an unhappy expression plastered on his face. "I'm not sure, you two. Dad's not feeling well today."

Ellie's eyebrows dropped in concern. While their resemblance was always uncanny, she looked like a miniature version of her father in this moment especially. "Are you sick?"

Aaron remained silent, biting down onto his lip, so you answered for him again. "He is a little bit, yeah. Would it be okay if we went to the zoo another time?"

"Yeah, we can always go to the zoo," Jack nodded with zero hesitation. "But what about the picnic we packed?"

"We can have it here." You mussed his hair gently. "Right in the living room, how about that?"

"Really?" Ellie's eyes widened. "A picnic inside the house? We can do that?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun." You crouched down to her level next, offering her a grin. "We can watch movies, play some games, and let Dad get some rest."

"Cool, I'll go see what we have." Jack hurried out and down the hall, beelining for the playroom.

"I'm sorry you're sick Daddy." Ellie consoled, wrapping her tiny arms around his legs and peering up at him. "We can see monkeys another time when you're all better."

His eyes softened, his scowl turning into a smaller pout. "Thanks El, I appreciate that."

She gave him a bright smile before running after her brother, pigtails bouncing atop her head.

Your eyes found his as a small smile tugged at the ends of your lips, conveying without words the reassurance you knew Aaron needed- they love you. His expression, while not entirely convinced, was more hopeful. He pulled you close by a belt loop on your jeans, wrapping his arms around you.

After selecting a few games and movies, Jack helped you set a picnic blanket on the carpet. Meanwhile, Ellie dragged every - literally every - stuffed animal she could find to the living room, creating a makeshift zoo just for Aaron. If he's sick, she'll bring the zoo to him.

You didn't say it aloud in front of the kids, but you watched his demeanor change. As if this healed something in him.

While he didn't verbalize it as often anymore, the weight of leaving home was something he held quietly in his chest - the dire need to be perfect with such a limited time. To go above and beyond for the kids to make sure they were happy, loved, and knew they were everything to him.

You witnessed it every time he left for a case; the instant dread that overtook him whenever his phone rang, the solemn expression on his face as he gave them hugs goodbye, the dismal tone in his voice over the phone during bedtime check ins. As if he were awaiting that one day he returned and they realized what a neglectful father he was.

While you reassured him, and he appreciated your reassurances, there was always the little voice in his head telling him not to get too comfortable. If he grew complacent, the life he loved could once again slip through his fingers. 

But now, with the plans falling short, Jack and Ellie didn't display any remorse or sadness, only the care, concern, and empathy for their father you together have taught them.

He didn't need to be on all the time. Quality time was quality time no matter the plans. And, making sure Dad was okay was more important than anything else.

"Do you think Dad's feeling better?" Jack's voice pulled your focus, looking up at you from his spot on the carpet. The second movie of the day was playing on the screen.

You glanced over at Aaron, who was fast asleep on the couch - head leaning back against the cushion, his feet crossed as they rested on the coffee table in front of him. Ellie was nestled into his side, her eyes trying their hardest to stay awake and follow the movie, but ultimately failing.

"Yeah, I think he is." You gave Jack a smile, holding your arms out; he didn’t hesitate to scramble up and join you. "This is exactly what he needed."

[melanchoire]

PLEASE DON'T STOP THE MUSIC ──── kim minjeong.

── ( 🪷 ) being a brat is fun, until minjeong, the most patient woman you know, decides your behavior at the party warrants a... correction, proving that even sweethearts have a dominant side you never suspected.

pairing. dom!girlfriend!kim minjeong x sub!girlfriend!fem reader

warning(s). almost cheating if you squint, cunnilingus, degradation, fingering, making out.

word count. 4,8k

requested? yes, by 🧸 anon (sorry for the delay my love) i used their idea and transformed it a bit based on my thoughts and ideas for the plot.

“what time are we leaving?” you ask, the question a low rumble against the backdrop of laughter and chatter that fills the apartment. you’re perched on the edge of a plush, velvet couch, the kind that screams ‘expensive’ and ‘don’t spill anything,’ surrounded by laughter and chatter that feels miles away. each nervous laugh, each shared joke, each clinking glass is a tiny hammer blow against your patience.

minjeong, your girlfriend, is across the living room, locked in an animated conversation with a woman you vaguely recognize as one of her colleagues. her head is thrown back in laughter, her eyes sparkling with a carefree joy that you envy. you watch as she leans in, whispering something that makes the other woman giggle and playfully shove her shoulder. you feel a strange pang, a mixture of affection and resentment. affection because she looks genuinely happy, resentment because that happiness doesn’t seem to include you.

you shift uncomfortably, the plush fabric doing little to alleviate the growing tension in your back. the party, thrown by one of minjeong’s acquaintances, is exactly what you’d feared: a suffocating sea of unfamiliar faces and forced pleasantries. you don’t know these people, and frankly, you don’t particularly want to. they’re all successful, polished, and brimming with an effortless confidence that you find intimidating. you’ve caught a few sideways glances, a few polite but dismissive smiles, and the barely-veiled curiosity in their eyes as they try to place you in minjeong’s life. you’re the odd man out, the square peg trying to fit into a round hole.

you try to engage in the conversations around you, throwing in the occasional comment or question, but your attempts usually fall flat. your jokes land with a thud, your observations are met with polite nods, and you quickly retreat back into your shell, the feeling of being an outsider growing with each passing minute.

you can’t help but feel like an outsider, an alien dropped into this strange habitat. minjeong’s friends are… fine, you suppose. polite enough, at least on the surface. but their easy camaraderie, their shared jokes and knowing looks, all serve to highlight your own isolation. It’s not that they’re actively excluding you, it’s just… you don’t fit. you don’t understand their references, you don’t share their history, and frankly, you don’t really want to.

minjeong knows this, of course. you’ve made it abundantly clear. you’d much rather be home, curled up on the couch with her, watching some mindless reality show and ordering takeout. but she'd insisted. it was yizhuo’s birthday, and she really wanted you to come. you love her, of course, so you agreed, sacrificing your saturday night to the social gods. but the gods are cruel and unsympathetic, as you’fe quickly finding out.

minjeong doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort. she’s animated, her eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter as she talks to yizhuo and another girl whose name you can’t quite remember. she seems to be in her element, radiating a carefree joy that you rarely see. it’s a beautiful sight, and a part of you feels guilty for wanting to drag her away from it. but the other part, the selfish part, just wants to go home.

you glance at your watch again. 10:47 PM. it feels like you’ve been here for an eternity.

you take a sip of the water you’ve been nursing all night. minjeong had offered you a beer when you first arrived, but you’d declined, knowing that someone had to be the designated driver. you silently curse your responsible nature, wishing you could loosen up and let the alcohol numb the awkwardness. minjeong is a little tipsy, her words slightly slurred, her laughter a little louder than usual. she’s having a good time, and you can’t begrudge her that, but it also makes you feel even more isolated in your sobriety.

finally, minjeong disentangles herself from the conversation and makes her way towards you, her steps a little unsteady.

“hey, you okay?” she asks, her voice a little too loud for the relatively quiet corner you’ve sequestered yourself in.

you force a smile. “yeah, i’m fine. just… a little tired.”

she sits down beside you, her arm brushing against yours. “you’ve been really quiet tonight.”

“just not feeling it, i guess.” you admit, trying to keep the resentment from creeping into your voice. “this isn’t really my crowd.”

minjeong’s expression clouds over slightly. “don’t say that. they’re nice people, you just need to give them a chance.”

“i have given them a chance, minjeong.” you say, your voice a little sharper than you intended. “they’re not exactly rolling out the welcome wagon. when are we leaving?”

“soon, babe.” she calls back, her voice slightly slurred. “just a little longer, okay? jimin wants to do karaoke."

karaoke. the word hangs in the air like a death sentence. you shudder inwardly. the thought of enduring another hour, let alone participating in a drunken karaoke session, is enough to send you running for the hills.

“what time are we leaving?” you ask again, the words slipping out before you can stop them. this time, your voice is a little sharper, a little more desperate.

minjeong sighs, a tiny furrow appearing between her eyebrows. “i told you, soon. stop worrying. just try to relax and have fun.”

“have fun?” you can’t help the incredulous tone that creeps into your voice. "how am i supposed to have fun? i don’t know anyone here. and the people i do know seem to be actively avoiding me.”

she frowns, her tipsy happiness momentarily fading. “that’s not true. yizhuo was just asking about your new project."

“yeah, after pointedly ignoring me for the first two hours.” you mutter, earning yourself a glare.

minjeong clearly doesn’t want to argue, not here, not in front of her friends. “okay, okay.” she says, holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “i get it. you’re not having a good time. but can you just try? for me? it’s important to me that you get to know my friends.”

“why?” the question is out before you can think, and you immediately regret it. it sounds accusatory, defensive.

minjeong’s expression hardens slightly. “because they’re important to me.” she says, her voice flat. “and if you care about me, you’ll at least make an effort.”

her words sting, a sharp jab to the gut. you do care about her, more than anything. that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? that’s why you’re enduring this torturous evening.

“i am making an effort.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just… hard.”

minjeong sighs again, running a hand through her hair. “i know, babe. i know. just give it a little longer, okay? i promise, we’ll leave soon. i’ll even rescue you from karaoke.” she manages a weak smile, and you can’t help but soften.

“fine.” you say, forcing a smile of your own. “but if i hear one note of bohemian rhapsody, i’m staging a coup."

she laughs, the sound light and airy, and the tension in your chest eases slightly. “deal. now, stay here. i‘m going to get you a soda.”

before you can protest, she’s already on her feet, weaving her way through the crowd towards the makeshift bar in the corner. you watch her go, a wave of guilt washing over you. you know she’s trying, that she wants you to feel comfortable and included. but it’s just not working.

you lean back against the uncomfortable couch, closing your eyes for a moment. okay, you think to yourself. you can do this. you can survive a few more hours of awkward small talk and forced smiles. for minjeong.

but as the minutes tick by, your resolve begins to waver. you watch as minjeong disappears into the kitchen, and a wave of loneliness washes over you. you feel like you’re standing on the outside of a glass wall, watching everyone else enjoy themselves while you’re trapped in your own little world of anxiety and discomfort.

you glance around the room, trying to find something, anything, to occupy your attention. a group of people are gathered around the coffee table, playing some sort of card game. their laughter is loud and boisterous, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of envy. you wish you could be that carefree, that comfortable in your own skin.

your eyes land on a bookshelf in the corner of the room. you stand up, needing an excuse to move, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the couch. you wander over to the bookshelf, pretending to be interested in the titles. you scan the spines, recognizing a few familiar authors, but mostly it’s a collection of books you've never heard of.

the bass vibrated through the floor, a dull, insistent throb that matched the restless energy buzzing beneath your skin. you replayed the conversation you’d just had with your boss, the promotion dangling just out of reach, the familiar sting of inadequacy pricking at your confidence. lost in the labyrinth of your anxieties, you hadn’t noticed the plush velvet of the sofa until you’d sunk into it, seeking a temporary refuge from the swirling chaos of the party.

the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and cheap beer, a discordant blend that mirrored the unease churning in your stomach. you closed your eyes, trying to block out the flashing lights and the shrill laughter, attempting to ground yourself in the quiet space within.

that’s when it happened. a disruption. a warm weight dipped the cushion beside you, interrupting the fragile peace you’d managed to conjure. you opened your eyes, ready to politely excuse yourself, but the words died in your throat.

“rough day?”

you startled, turning to see aeri settled comfortably next to you, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. or was it giselle? you always got confused. she had told you once that giselle was her american name, the one she used because it was easier for people to pronounce. that was the confusing part. you knew her as giselle. that’s the name she introduced herself as when you first met her at a mutual friend's birthday party. the name on her Instagram handle. the name everyone seemed to use.

but now, looking at her, she felt different. maybe it was the way the light caught the sharp angles of her cheekbones, highlighting a subtle intensity you hadn’t noticed before. or maybe it was the knowing glint in her dark eyes, a hint of amusement playing around her lips.

“hey.” you managed, the greeting sounding surprisingly breathless. “giselle?”

her smile widened, a brief flash of teeth that sent a shiver down your spine. “aeri.” she corrected softly, her voice a low, melodic hum that seemed to vibrate in the air around you. “please. call me aeri.”

you frowned, a knot of confusion tightening in your chest. “but… everyone calls you giselle.”

she shrugged, the movement graceful and effortless. “i know. it’s easier for some people. not everyone knows how to pronounce aeri properly, and honestly, sometimes i just don’t have the energy to correct them.” her gaze met yours, and the amusement intensified, turning almost… mischievous. “but i like it when you say it. it sounds… nice.”

your cheeks flushed, and you found yourself strangely flustered by her simple statement. You cleared your throat, attempting to regain your composure. “okay.” you said, the word a little shaky. “aeri, then.”

saying her name felt different, somehow. more intimate. more real.

her smile widened, a dimple appearing in her left cheek. “aeri, please. tonight, i'm aeri.”

“aeri, then.” you echoed, the name feeling foreign and yet familiar on your tongue. “and yeah, you could say that. rough week, rough month, rough life, maybe?”

she chuckled, a light, airy sound that somehow managed to cut through the cacophony of the party. “i know the feeling. sometimes it feels like the universe is just conspiring to make you spill coffee on your favorite shirt, every single day.”

you laughed, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to her easygoing demeanor. “exactly! it’s like, can i just catch a break, universe? just one day of no existential dread, please?”

aeri leaned closer, her gaze locking with yours. “i think you deserve more than just one day.” she said, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. “you deserve a whole galaxy of good days.”

your heart fluttered unexpectedly. you hadn’t been planning on flirting, hadn’t even considered it, but aeri’s words, her gaze, the way the light caught in her hair — it was all strangely captivating.

“that’s… a very kind thing to say, aeri.” you managed, your voice a little breathier than you intended.

“so,” she continued, leaning closer, her arm brushing against yours. the contact sent another jolt through you. “what’s got you hiding out here in the shadows? not a fan of the music?”

you hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal to someone you barely knew, someone who was suddenly making you feel incredibly self–conscious. “just… thinking.” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “work stuff.”

“work, huh?” aeri’s voice was laced with intrigue. “sounds serious.”

you sighed, relenting. “it’s just… there’s a promotion up for grabs, and i thought i had a good shot, but… well, apparently not.”

aeri tilted her head, her dark eyes studying you with an intensity that made you want to squirm. “why not?” she asked, her voice gentle, almost coaxing.

you found yourself pouring out your frustrations, the words tumbling out in a rush. you told her about the long hours you’d put in, the projects you’d spearheaded, the sacrifices you'd made. you told her about the feeling of being overlooked, of being underestimated.

aeri listened intently, her gaze never wavering, her presence a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the party. when you finally ran out of steam, she remained silent for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

“you know.” she said finally, her voice low and sincere. “sometimes we’te so busy trying to prove ourselves to others that we forget to appreciate our own worth. you sound incredibly talented and dedicated. don’t let someone else’s judgment define you.”

her words resonated deep within you, a balm to your wounded ego. you looked at her, really looked at her, and saw a depth of understanding and empathy that surprised you.

“thanks.” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “i needed to hear that.”

aeri smiled, a genuine, heart–stopping smile that lit up her entire face. “anytime.” she said, her voice soft. “that’s what friends are for.”

friends. the word hung in the air between you, both comforting and slightly disappointing. you wanted more than friendship, you realized with a jolt. you wanted to bask in the warmth of her attention, to lose yourself in the depths of her dark eyes, to explore the subtle curves of her smile.

she leaned closer again, and you could feel the warmth radiating from her body. the scent of her perfume, a complex blend of jasmine and sandalwood, filled your senses, intoxicating you.

“so…” she whispered, her voice a husky murmur that sent shivers down your spine. “now that we’ve established that you’re amazing, how about we ditch this boring party and go somewhere a little more… interesting?”

your heart pounded in your chest. this was it. this was the moment you’d been subconsciously waiting for. the chance to escape the mundane, to embrace the unknown, to surrender to the magnetic pull of aeri’s allure.

“i…” you began, your voice catching in your throat.

that’s when you heard it. a familiar voice, sharp and laced with irritation, cutting through the music and laughter.

“there you are!”

your head snapped up, and your stomach plummeted. standing there, framed in the doorway, was minjeong, your girlfriend. her eyes, usually warm and loving, were narrowed into slits, her jaw clenched tight.

“minjeong.” you said, your voice a strangled whisper.

“minjeong.” aeri echoed, her voice devoid of any emotion. she didn’t even look at her.

minjeong stalked towards you, her gaze fixed on aeri, radiating hostility. “what’s going on here?” she demanded, her voice dangerously low.

“nothing.” you said quickly, trying to defuse the situation. “we were just talking.”

“just talking?” minjeong repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “that’s not what it looked like to me.” she turned her attention to aeri, her eyes flashing with anger. “who are you?”

aeri finally looked up, her expression cool and composed. “a friend.” she said simply.

“a friend?” minjeong scoffed. “i don’t think so.” she grabbed your arm, her grip surprisingly tight. “come on.” she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. “we’re leaving.”

you looked at aeri, a silent plea in your eyes. she met your gaze, her expression unreadable. then, with a barely perceptible shrug, she looked away.

the air crackled with unspoken tension. you could practically feel the temperature in the small space plummet.

aeri, sensing the shift in atmosphere, gracefully began to extract herself. “well, it was lovely talking to you.” she said, flashing you a dazzling smile. “i should probably go mingle. see you around?”

“yeah, see you.” you managed, your eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary.

as aeri walked away, minjeong turned to you, her eyes narrowed. “what was that about?”

“what do you mean?” you asked, trying to play it cool, even though your heart was hammering in your chest.

“don’t play dumb. you were practically flirting with her.” her voice was dangerously low, barely audible above the music.

“we were just talking.” you protested, but the defensive tone in your voice betrayed you.

“talking? it looked like a lot more than talking. you know i don’t like it when you do that."

“do what? talk to people? minjeong, i can’t just sit in a corner all night. and aeri is a friend.”

“a friend? is that what you call it now? because it looked like she wanted to be more than just a friend.”

the argument escalated quickly. accusations flew, fueled by jealousy and underlying frustrations that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks. you found yourself saying things you regretted, things you had been holding back for too long. minjeong, in turn, retaliated with her own grievances, her voice rising with each word.

the party faded into the background, the music and laughter becoming a muffled hum. all that existed was the two of you, locked in a bitter battle of words, your relationship crumbling before your eyes.

“i can’t believe you’re doing this.” you said, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. “at yizhuo’s birthday party, no less. you’re making a scene."

“and you’re making me look like a fool.” minjeong shot back. “i come here to support our friend, and you’re over here, cozying up to someone else.”

you were about to retort when minjeong grabbed your arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “we’re leaving.” she said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“what? now? i’m not leaving now.”

“yes, you are. i need to talk to you, and i’m not doing it here, in front of everyone.”

before you could protest further, she was pulling you towards the door, navigating through the throng of partygoers. people stared as you were dragged past, their faces a mixture of curiosity and concern. you caught yizhuo’s eye, her expression a question mark, but you couldn’t bring yourself to offer an explanation.

outside, the cool night air hit you like a slap in the face. minjeong didn’t release your arm until you reached her car, a sleek black sedan parked a block away. she unlocked the doors and practically shoved you inside.

“get in.” she said curtly, unlocking the car door.

you obeyed, sliding into the passenger seat, your heart pounding in your chest. the car ride was tense and silent, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the occasional sigh from minjeong.

the silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the ticking of the engine. you sat rigid in your seat, your arms crossed, staring straight ahead. minjeong started the car and pulled out into the street, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.

neither of you spoke for several minutes. the tension in the car was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

finally, minjeong broke the silence, her voice strained. “i don’t understand you sometimes.” she said. what was that all about?” she demanded, her voice trembling with emotion.

you hesitated, unsure of what to say. “i don’t know.” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “we were just talking.”

“don’t lie to me.” she snapped. “i saw the way she was looking at you. i saw the way you were looking at her.”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “minjeong, nothing happened. we were just having a conversation.”

“a conversation that involved her flirting with you?” she challenged.

you flinched. “i don’t know if she was flirting.” you protested weakly.

“oh, come on.” minjeong said, her voice laced with disbelief. “you can’t be that blind. she was totally coming on to you.”

you didn’t respond, unable to deny the truth of her words.

“come here.” she purred, reaching out to grab your wrist and tug you closer. her grip was firm and insistent, pulling you into her personal space. she wrapped her other arm around your lower back, trapping you against the cool leather and her warm, soft body.

minjeong’s face was mere inches from yours now, her breath hot against your skin. you could feel the heat radiating off her, could see the hunger burning in her dark eyes. she was a predator, and you were her prey — and you couldn’t wait to be devoured.

minjeong’s gaze locked with yours, her eyes blazing with intensity and unbridled desire. she leaned in closer, her lips now a mere whisper from yours. you could feel the electric charge building between your bodies, the air crackling with sexual tension.

“ugh, i need to taste you.” she murmured, her voice low and husky, dripping with lust. her hand slid up your back, her nails raking lightly against your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

suddenly, she crashed her lips against yours in a bruising, passionate kiss. her mouth moved demandingly over yours, her tongue delving past your lips to explore and claim you. she kissed you like she was starving for it, like she needed your mouth, your taste, your very essence to survive.

her other hand slid down to grip your hip, pulling your body flush against hers. you could feel every curve of her lithe, soft body pressed against you, her breasts crushed against your own. she deepened the kiss, her tongue dancing and twining with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth.

minjeong’s hands roamed your body greedily, mapping out your curves, squeezing and caressing. she seemed determined to touch every part of you, to leave no inch of your skin unexplored. her touch was electric, setting your nerves alight with pleasure.

she broke the kiss abruptly, leaving you both panting. her eyes were dark and wild as she stared at you, a wicked grin playing on her kiss–swollen lips.

“fuck, i need you so bad.” minjeong growled, her voice raw with desire. her hands slid under your shirt, pushing it up and off in one swift motion. she leaned down, her mouth hot and hungry against your newly exposed skin. she kissed and nipped at your breasts, her tongue swirling around your hardened nipples.

her fingers fumbled with the button of your jeans, popping it open and tugging the zipper down. she slipped a hand inside, her fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric of your panties. she rubbed slow, teasing circles around the sensitive nub, feeling it throb and swell under her touch.

“i’ll show you exactly who this pretty little pussy belongs to.” she purred, her voice a low, seductive growl. her hand slipped inside your panties, her fingers brushing against your slick, heated flesh. she groaned softly at the feeling of your arousal, a sound of pure male satisfaction.

minjeong pushed your panties aside and plunged two fingers deep into your dripping cunt without warning. she pumped them in and out, fucking you hard and fast, her palm grinding against your clit with every thrust. her other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as she ravaged your pussy with single–minded intensity.

right now you had no more self–respect or dignity to lose. the party, the conversation with aeri, and the confrontation with minjeong that this brought made you spin like a roller coaster. so showing her how needy you were was the least bad thing you could do. “minjeong please don’t tease and just fuck me already.”

in a flash, minjeong yanked her fingers out of your needy cunt, leaving you aching and empty. she grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you out of the driver’s seat, pulling you into the back of the car. the leather seats were soft and cool against your skin as she pushed you down onto them.

minjeong crawled in after you, straddling your hips with her own. she loomed over you, a wicked grin on her face as she gazed down at your flushed, aroused body splayed out beneath her.

“i want to taste this sweet cunt. i need to remind you who it belongs to.” she growled, hooking her fingers into the waistband of your jeans and panties. with one swift tug, she yanked them down your legs, tossing them carelessly onto the car floor.

minjeong settled between your thighs, pushing them apart to expose your glistening, swollen pussy to her hungry gaze. she leaned down, inhaling deeply, savoring your intimate scent.

“fuck, you smell divine.” she murmured, before diving in and running her tongue along your slit. she groaned at the taste of your arousal, her eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

minjeong ate your pussy like a woman starved, her tongue delving deep into your hot, tight channel. she licked and sucked at your clit, flicking the sensitive bud rapidly with the tip of her tongue. her hands gripped your ass, kneading the soft flesh as she feasted on you.

she brought a hand up to plunge two fingers knuckle–deep into your cunt, pumping them in time with the lashes of her tongue. the obscene sound of your wetness filled the car as she finger–fucked you hard and fast, her tongue never letting up its relentless assault on your clit.

“mmmh, this pussy tastes even better than i remember.” minjeong purred against your flesh, sending delicious vibrations through you. she looked up at you with a wicked, lust–drunk grin. “i’m going to make this cunt mine again, (y/n). i’m going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget your own name. the only thing you’lll remember is who this pretty little pussy belongs to — me.” minjeong redoubled her efforts, driven wild by the thought of claiming your pussy completely. she sucked your clit hard, her tongue swirling and flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves. her fingers pumped faster, plunging in and out of your soaked, clenching cunt with brutal intensity.

“fuck, you’re mine.” she growled against your pussy, the vibrations making your hips jerk and your back arch. she bit down gently on your clit, soothing the sting with a long, slow lick. her fingers curled inside you, rubbing mercilessly against that spongy spot deep within your core.

minjeong could feel your pussy starting to flutter and clench around her invading fingers, telling her you were close. she doubled her efforts, determined to make you come undone. she wanted to taste your release, to feel your essence flooding her mouth as she marked you as her own.

“come on, baby.” she urged, her breath hot and heavy against your dripping sex. “give this greedy little cunt to me. i want to feel you come all over my tongue, screaming my name. let everyone know who you belong to.”

with a final, sharp thrust of her fingers and a hard suck on your clit, minjeong sent you hurtling over the edge. your pussy clamped down like a vice, your walls rippling and milking her fingers as your orgasm crashed over you. she groaned in satisfaction as your release gushed out, flooding her mouth and chin with your sweet nectar.

minjeong lapped it up greedily, not letting a single drop go to waste. she worked you through your high, her fingers gentling their strokes as your body twitched and shuddered with the aftershocks. finally, she pulled back, her face glistening with your juices.

“that’s it, baby. gucking delicious.” she purred, her voice rough and sated. she crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. “you’re mine, (y/n). this pussy is mine. don’t you ever forget it.”

[glommergoop]

huge deltarune chapter 3 spoilers

just spent a while digging around in the files of chapter 3 and stuff, here's a thread for anything interesting i found:

this last one just reads like it says "send him, quick"

found some incredibly weird audio files, they don't wanna upload to tumblr and i'm too tired to convert them right now, but the highlight are two files called "wet_tapdancing.ogg" and "wet_tapdancing_old" that honestly sound like someone flinging around a wet towel against a table or some shit. they are on tcrf at least

here's "bg_dw_tvland_backstage_tiles_old_0.png"

this guy has no name, whereas sprites are usually titled spr_(name of character), he's literally spr(four blank spaces)

kris's room and bathroom are titled 'myroom' and 'mybathroom' for some reason... but like the general house area, the living room and kitchen, isn't titled the same way

there's an unused ominous black thing left over in the files, but tcrf already has it documented here so go read that

this is probably a placeholder:

the "inventory" icons for either of the weather trio when you like "obtain" them during the zelda game are called "ninfrendo". that's cute

"spr board wheel slice test 1 and 2":

more shit under cut. paging @krispdreemurr because i already showed you these on bsky (hi) but i want you to see Again

"spr_dw_teevie_screen_face_0"

spr_dw_teevie_tv_face_0 and spr_dw_teevie_tv_face_1:

what is up with "teevie"… is that a thing we (deltarune fandom) knew? it shows up a lot, with stuff like the statues and decorations in the backroom kinda area tenna had a zapper guarding to keep the kids out of, so much so at first i was like "was teevie his original name" but then there was also stuff prefixed with teevie that then also had tenna in the url so i guess not?

rouxls's sprites are consistently called "rurus" which sounds kind of like maybe a japanese localization of his name almost? but in general i wonder if its easier to spell lmfao. god knows i didn't start being able to spell his name until this chapter

my brain is so fucking small, i genuinely cannot remember if this pic of "screen city" is used in the game:

these legs are some alt legs for the quizzler which i'm pretty sure i already saw documented as not being used though.

this little goober is just called "hatguy" in the sprites:

i found all of tenna's fancy text, and a) all of it is labeled with "funnytext" and b) this text that said "amazing" in eng looks really fucking cool

in the english version, this text says "fun" instead, and it's still labeled "funnytext fun loop" but it's laughing in japanese for some reason.

jevil's door is in the files for no goddamn reason along with ralsei's chap 1 portraits

kris's sprites when they're doing that act that puts 'em in a suit are called "zoosuit" which presumably means "zoot suit". i remembred the phrase "zoot suit" now and i am smiling.

may continue this in another post!

[lmvari]

⟳ 28. LOOP

There was something about the enigma that was Kuni that drew you in.

You didn’t know it then. Not really.

Not when the music thudded too loudly and the bar was crowded with mutual friends and familiar faces. But you knew of him. Everyone kind of did.

You’d seen him around before. At parties, in passing. Always somewhere on the periphery. Never smiling. Never staying too long. You remembered the way Lumi once whispered something about him being “a mess, but not in a fun way.” The one who fooled around just long enough to get under someone’s skin and then disappeared before it got too real. 

There were stories. Girls who swore he meant something with the way he touched them, only to be left on read a week later. Some called him a heartbreaker. Others called him worse. But even then, none of that scared you. There was something about him that stood out. A quiet, sharp-edged, magnetic in a way you couldn’t quite explain. 

You never got the chance to approach him in the past, never crossed paths close enough to say more than a word or two. Despite how your friends knew him fairly well, he always felt just out of reach. A familiar stranger in the same circles, orbiting close but never quite touching yours.

So when you spotted him alone at a bar, you didn’t hesitate.

You could’ve walked past. You should’ve walked past. 

But you didn’t.

Being in the list of Kuni’s infamous one-night stands wasn’t your plan. You simply wanted to befriend him. Get to know him. 

When you woke up the morning after, your first instinct was to leave. That’s how it usually goes. But something stopped you.

Because when you blinked awake, head still pounding from the alcohol and sleep clinging to your limbs, you saw him.

He wasn’t asleep. He was trembling.

Bare shoulders hunched as if caving in on himself, hands curled into the sheets. Whispering things under his breath, like a nightmare was still holding him hostage. You caught bits and pieces through the haze.

“Don’t leave,” “don’t go,” “not again.”

You froze.

It wasn’t directed at you; you knew that. Your first thought was to give him space. You weren’t supposed to care. Why would you? Strictly speaking, you just met him. 

But something about that moment—seeing him look so small, so ruined, like he was breaking in silence—dug into you. When you stepped out of his room, the state of his apartment only made it worse.

It was a mess. Not in the careless, student-living kind of way. It was a lonely kind of mess. Dirt clothes scattered everywhere, trash ignored, dishes crusted over. Like no one had taken care of him in a while. Like he’d stopped trying.

So you stayed. Even when he pushed you away.

You wondered about him. 

What his nightmare was about. Why he looked so hollow that night—sweaty, trembling, whispering don’t leave me as if the words were the only thing keeping him tethered. You surmised that it’s probably why he did what he did. Why the rumors followed him like shadows. It all seemed like a way to cope, a response to some unnamed trauma. You didn’t pity him, but you understood, in a distant, unspoken way.

Still, you concluded that it wasn’t your business. He made it clear what this was. A one-time thing. And honestly, you were more than fine with that. Made peace with it. You never planned to come back, anyway.

Until you realized your ring was gone.

A matching one with Lumi, something stupid and sentimental, but it mattered to you. You remembered taking it off before cooking and leaving it by the stove. You could’ve asked Lumi to get it back from Ajax, maybe spin some lie about it. But then she’d ask questions. And it wasn’t ideal if someone found out you slept with him. So you showed up at his apartment again, unannounced, three days later.

When he opened the door, he looked like hell.

Eyes rimmed red, hair messy, a half-empty glass of whiskey dangling from his hand. It was early evening, not yet dark, but the apartment already smelled of liquor. 

After what felt like an eternity of snide remarks, you finally retrieved your ring. It was exactly where you left it, like it had been waiting.

You told yourself you’d leave right after. You really meant to. Then the storm hit. Heavy rain, sudden and loud, made leaving impossible. You inevitably stayed. And then things escalated.

There was something in the way he looked at you. Hungry, unfocused, touched by liquor and loneliness. You knew it was the alcohol. You knew better.

But still, something in you responded. You teased him, riled him up, leaned in a little too close, maybe a little too smug. Perhaps it was pride, the way the heartbreaker looked at you like that for a second time.

And so, you ended up in his bed. Again.

Lumi found out you slept with him more than once. You had told her. She was worried. She knew what he was like. You defended yourself, got into an argument with her. You knew deep down she was right, but at that time, you thought she didn’t understand.

So you got drunk.

Stumbled your way to his apartment, heart loud in your chest, pride drowned in liquor. You kissed him first. Touched him first. Pushed yourself into his world like you belonged there.

When he didn’t stop you, when he let you in like it was natural, that’s when something truly began.

You were tipsy, yes, but not oblivious. You knew this was dangerous. Knew the way he looked at people and left them cold the next day. 

But maybe that was the thrill. The delusion that you wouldn’t get burned. That you could keep it casual. That you were different.

You asked him, once, why he did it, why he slept around, why he never let anyone close. He shut you out. Stayed quiet. Guarded. But that only made you want to understand him more.

So it happened again.

Then again.

Again and again and again and again—

And without warning, you were too far gone, crossed too many lines, to say it was the last.

The early morning glow creeps in through the half-open blinds, casting soft lines across the sheets. The world is quiet. Too quiet. For a second, it feels like you’re stuck, caught between a dream and the kind of memory that never leaves gently.

You blink against the light, your head pounding dully, the remnants of last night scattered across your thoughts like broken glass. You shift under the covers. The fabric is familiar. One that you’ve slept on, God knows how many times. So is the soft rise and fall of the body beside you.

Your breath catches.

It’s Kuni.

He’s asleep, turned slightly away, hair a mess, lips parted just enough to give away the rhythm of his breathing.

Your heart stutters. That’s when everything from last night came crashing down again.

Ven’s party. Kaz. The dance floor.

The kiss.

The press of his mouth against yours—messy, desperate, like you were both seconds from falling apart. You remember the way his hand curled around the back of your neck, how the world faded around the heat of it. Then… nothing.

Everything else is blank. Just the kiss. And now this.

You’re wearing one of his shirts. Your fit from last night nowhere to be found. The weight of implication settles on your chest like a stone.

Your head spins, and you can’t tell if it’s from the hangover or from trying to process everything at once.

Did something happen? Did you let it?

Fuck.

It’s happening again.

Tears well up in your eyes, breathing heavily, shaking. You don’t wait anymore. You slip out of bed in silence, careful not to wake him. The floor is cold under your bare feet. The heavy feeling in your chest is unrelenting as it grows. Your fingers shake as you grab your things and step out the door without looking back. 

You feel sick to your stomach.

Because somehow, in ways you’ll never understand, you always finds a way to drag yourself back to the same loop, the same bed, no matter how hard you try to escape it.

When Kuni woke up, it was the same cruel déjà vu.

He’s still alone. He still had a nightmare.

Except this time, you didn’t stay.

⟳ BLURRED LINES — PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

You say you’re just friends. You say it every time you leave a party together, every time you wake up tangled in sheets, every time you swear it’s the last time. But habits form, lines blur, and pretending gets harder when jealousy starts to sting.

NOTE hello rlly late update hi

TAGLIST @joiurz @sketcheeee @mywillt0live @kyouzki @ylapsha45 @eternallykira-143 @bananasquash @kunikissr @swivi @ariesloves @lloversss @b-bbytears @kokoscutie @vi0let-writes @tomsishere @franaby @scaraenthusiast1 @iloveescara @usagiarchive @ilovecats-26 @quiechee @snetr @axquella @tatsuomii @lalalaloveallmydays @liyahbug @feiherp @jinjjjia @automaticpatroltragedy @mysterypotatoink @zuhahearts @adres-tia @ssetsuka @strwbrrybbpop @sesamemin @blvdmrcnry @aspinny @jiminscarmex @sammybeefangirls @lxkeeeeee @yu-yumii @linasxoxo @quiet-place-for-thoughts @randomhumans-blog @aaudreys @lesbi-snail @jayzioxx @meowpmzai @s-f-rants @cosmic-rainestorm @honey-and-sweetdreams @vincelikestomince @mono-dontidae @simeonmybabygirlicious @gugumioooo [50/50]

if your name is in bold, that means i can’t tag you

[sdcrevolver]

Oughhhh sorry I would draw but I have Swat Kats on the brain right now… T-Bone and Razor my beloveds but you’re kinda hard to draw… the best I can do is just yap about them (and my AU somewhat) in the tags. This post is more for me if you see this and think I’m going off the rails then whoopsies

[passerinesoncaffeine]

I neeeeeeeeeeeeed to get more familiar with digital art interfaces but then you're just

but what if. we fucking inked it instead 👀👀👀 don't you want 👀👀👀 to do extremely intricate crunchy lineart 👀👀👀👀 dont you just want to fucking ink it 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

and like yeah. yeah I do want to fucking ink it.

[enterstellars]

ridley scott is a coward for dying matt damon's hair in the martian. let that silver peak through!!!!!

[pumpkin-wants-a-cherry-scone]

Re: tokyo mew mew AU

so I changed the whole thing pretty much BUT.

Her animal is still a forest owlet, but her fruit is mangosteen. I changed things to fit mangosteen (quick drawing of mangosteen depicted on the left; ignore my attempt at a star fruit next to it. I was brainstorming)

Name: Mew Mango (not mangosteen cause that's too long to say :p) (slightly confusing) (I guess the whole thing is fine) (idk) (if anyone feels compelled you can create your own name I'd love to hear one) (I'm not being sarcastic)

Weapon: Da-mango-maru (instrument is a damaru)

Attack: ribbon mangostaan-u storm-o (or smthn)? (unsure on how well storm and the damaru match. but maybe the sound of the drum could be like rain?)

@ebbpettier

apologies that I took a month. I hope you have not perished

not sure where her mew mark would be? maybe on her back (like mint). I'm slightly tempted to have it on her knee/back of her knee lol

it's probably obvious, but none of this is set in stone

redrew this picture of mint:

[wallissa]

did I ever talk about the fact that I wrote a fic where Homelander has a wet dream about Starlight and Soldier Boy*. What an intense ride. Really fun stuff though.

*he's there for moral support. With his shield and everything. top notch stuff I have to say.

[lieutenantselnia]

This is super random, but I've recently been watching more German movies (I really enjoyed the performances of some Downfall actors and wanted to see some of their other works), and like what the hell is it with 2000s German movies that there's way too often one entirely random scene with someone having their bare ass out😭😂

Of course it doesn't happen in every movie but still often enough that it's somehow noticeable? I'm not sure if it's more of a time or a country dependent thing, but at least in my perception I just don't feel like this occurs as often in more recent movies and series especially in those from the US (like, I feel I'd have noticed if it did because I'd probably be lowkey annoyed by it😂)

[mantisgodiveblog]

As someone who messes up names so much, I could only remember Loop’s name from “Your ally Loop! Here to help you with the loops!” And I think it every time I say the word ‘loop’ ever in any context now. Curse you Loop. In comparison about halfway through the game (in my case like a solid 25 hours) I still couldn’t reliably remember Isabeau’s name. (Also, if images cause problems you don’t have to put so many in! I’m guessing most people seeing the liveblog have seen nearly all the game already?)

Technically speaking, we don't have to put any images in at all, but we prefer this format for allowing us to more easily "open dialogue" with the game and also the existence of this liveblog has fully convinced one of our friends to get this game as well so that they can play alongside us. We like the visual element! Also gives us something to look back and reference, later down the line - our usual favorite RPG has an extremely accessible transcript of all of the text in the game that we usually reference back to whenever we need to reference a line of dialogue, but In Stars And Time... doesn't have that, we don't think.

We'd like to be able to look back and see what we've already done, and have a reliable way of seeing what happened, because by gods if our memory fails on us we don't want it to gaslight us into thinking that. Fuck. Isabeau mentioned a line that Mirabelle has, and have that shift our area of characterization for them.

[inkskinned]

my brother got covid because he's a college professor and there's not much he can do to mitigate exposure when he has 200+ students per lecture. he's got a baby at home, so he does his best, but.

the governmental website for covid information is now propaganda. not a joke, not hyperbole, not an exaggeration: it's genuinely the definition of propaganda. this is biased misinformation determined to push a political stance. it is being hosted on a government server. it looks like something you'd find in a "top 10 weird internet conspiracy stories (and their origins)" youtube video.

my brother called me when he saw it. he had me type it into google. for a second i legitimately thought that i had typed something wrong. we have both taught college: we have both said "a .gov site is usually a reliable resource." i just stared at my phone for a long, long time.

i thought about how when i was a kid, conspiracy theories were mostly fun and a little spooky. unserious. i remember reading some long, complicated website about how avril lavigne is dead. how bigfoot is real. it used to be funny-and-a-joke.

over seven million people (globally) have died from covid. america has the highest death rate with over 1.2 million people.

the thing is - every time a person dies from something like a mass shooting or poverty or treatable illness - we are told don't make it political. we are told it's just something that can happen. we are told it's sad but what can you do!

the president of the united states is using a government website to try to erase the very-real deaths that he personally caused due to a complete mismanagement of the pandemic. the president of the united states is using a government server to host propaganda, undermine science and medicine, and encourage distrust amongst his followers.

nothing is going to happen. nobody's gonna, like, do anything about it. it's a thursday today, and we are just going to move on from this like we have been moving on from everything else.

yesterday my brother was outside walking his dog, mask included. a guy in a truck pulls up and shouts something about covid and whatever the fuck else. my brother has a good sense of humor, described it to me as enthusiastic! i hadn't ever been catcalled before, this was new and therefore thrilling! i do see why you hate it, though. like. i have actual covid, does he want me to cough on him?

my brother doesn't get extra time off work anymore, because the cdc practically doesn't exist. my brother said i'm not exposing 200 students to covid. his boss shrugged and said: who cares? they're going to get it eventually anyway. like it isn't a pandemic.

like it's just a fucking thursday, and who cares about it.

[shiroselia]

If there is any aspect of my self-image that I genuinely do wish upon anyone and everyone else, it's the fact that 90% of my physical appearance preferences exists because "Well I have that so it's cute! :D"

[mieltelecheycrema]

ough nightmare. I swear I’ve had this game guy appear in my nightmares before and that actually scares me