#but it is kind of tickle related

[daticklishwhissu]

Help why does the fishes look like they're going to nibble his toes hyvtfrrxrstfcrdcrdx but I like the art style though

My Fourth post so it’s (mostly) dedicated to this silly number

[skznccmlee]

Why do I feel so alone...??

[writingforfishes]

@worm-writes-hicfics and @elacular-kink carrying my soul as it tries to leave my body in escape from historical shit currently happening through their tags to my latest fic, alone.

Didn't have getting immediate comfort from my kink blog on my bingo card after the dumpster reignited for four my years, but I'm here for it.

[correctproseka]

Ooh I saw you already did Harumafu, but what about Harukana?

Harukana coming.. help me they're both the same color. Kanade will be italics non blue ig?

Who said “I love you” first

Kanade, they were doing a full movie scene accidentally and Haruka had picked her up and Kanade just said it but they were at that point in the movie where they just already know /hj

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

Haruka. Look. Kanade is cute okay, Haruka's a weak person

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

Haruka, she gives reminders to Kanade

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

Haruka again

Who initiated the first kiss

Haruka, right after Kanade's confession at the start

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Haruka wakes up when Kanade is still awake, so Kanade gives her sleepy wife a kiss so Haruka can wake up and she can go to sleep

Who starts tickle fights

I dont think either of them are very big on it, Kanade probably has a huge touch sensitivity

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

Kanade, look girly just likes comfy and there's probably nothing more comfy than cuddling with someone on a bath. Probably. I never tried i dont have a bath nor a gf (sorry its 3am this one is making less sense)

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch

.... So uh.

Both forget lunch exists, who actually reminds them both is Honami /hj

Who was nervous and shy on the first date

Kanade, Haruka was trying so hard to not have cuteness agression

Who kills/takes out the spiders

Haruka

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

Both are different kinds of drunk but neither is loud. Kanade takes one sip and passes out asleep, Haruka just starts randomly exercising for some reason

[ticklystuff]

hewwo! just wanted to mention that i don’t take any requests, but i’m always open to suggestions! this means if you have a cool idea, i’ll be more likely to write it! i’ve been seeing a recent uptick of “can x tickle y” and those make me sad bc they don’t spark inspo and then i feel bad when i delete them :(

[shitpostroundhouse]

[fellsilver]

Laeral was old enough when El took her in to know El wasn't her parent, but she was young enough to think they were blood relations. The girls referred to El as Uncle / Aunt growing up. It wasn't until years later when teenage Storm was having her "YOU'RE NOT MY PARENT, YOU'RE NOT EVEN RELATED TO US" tantrums that Lael realized they were adopted family lmao

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[smutoperator]

Sex Doll

Im Yeojin x Male Reader + special guest Son Hyeju

Kinkvember Chapter 3

Main kinks: objectification, electrocution, submission

Word count: 5404.

Your decades-long sexual perversions have resulted in you having a long collection of items. Movies, magazines, toys, dolls—everything related to sex that you could collect you did, so much that you wanted to open a museum of sex with those items.

But today you were surprised by the new item your assistant had brought: a natural sized sex doll trapped inside a wooden box that looked so tiny you didn't believe she was actually at full scale.

"We've imported her straight from South Korea; her name is Yeojin," your assistant Hyeju told you. You looked at the small, pretty doll and marveled at her. "Wow, that's the best sex doll I've ever got for my collection," you said.

"You'll be surprised by the things she can do; she's actually very responsive to commands and reacts to every stimulation you give her—truly the cutting-edge technology among sex dolls," Hyeju said to you.

Yeojin looked very enticing inside that wooden box. Her body was already completely exposed; her little legs lifted and stuck out through a pair of holes in the glass sealing the box; her arms were tied up and her eyes covered with a blindfold; while her vagina and anus popped out of the box through a big circular hole at one of the sides.

Hyeju rubbed her hands against Yeojin's pussy, making the little doll squirt. "Look at this, boss, the sex dolls they are fabricating in Asia are so advanced the best ones already come with a squirting function," she said, spanking her pussy a few times. "Wow, her skin looks so natural," you said, impressed at how human-like Yeojin was.

You spanked Yeojin's ass and tickled her toes, leading to an immediate reaction from the little sex doll. "You weren't kidding, Hyeju; she's indeed very responsive to stimulation," you said. "Look at this, boss," Hyeju says, fisting Yeojin's vagina and leading to the sex doll moaning. "Hmmmmmmmmm," you could hear sounds coming out of Yeojin's mouth. 

"She's got a pretty little cunt, doesn't she?" Hyeju asks you as she spreads Yeojin's pussy lips, giving you a glimpse of her pink fuckhole. You touch it a little bit and get amazed by how wet it is. As a guy with a long sex toy collection, this was better than any fleshlight or sex doll you had on it.

"Check this out, boss," Hyeju says, spanking Yeojin's ass multiple times. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHH," the sex doll reacts, screaming loud. You start pinching her pussy and notice her body starts to shake as well.

"Let's make her suffer," Hyeju says, bringing an electric baton and giving Yeojin electric shocks right at her toes. "AHHHHHH," the sex doll screams. "What are you here for?" Hyeju asks Yeojin, giving her another electric shock.

"I'm here to, cum," Yeojin answers, shocking you. Damn, what kind of artificial intelligence are they making out there in Asia? Because she was able to answer Hyeju's question perfectly even if she was twisting in pain from all those shocks.

"Wrong, you're here to make a paycheck for our sex museum that's going to open soon," Hyeju replies, slapping Yeojin with the shock batom multiple times. "AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHHHH, AHHHHHH," is all she can say, screaming every time Hyeju hits her. "So are you going to be a good sex doll for us?" Hyeju asks. "YES," Yeojin answers. "Yes what?" Hyeju says, unsatisfied. "Yes, ms. Hyeju," she then replies.

"So you know my name, little bitch," Hyeju says, hitting Yeojin with the baton right at her pussy. "And what's your name, little princess?" you ask her. "YEOJIN," she answers, screaming. Indeed, she seems really well programmed, truly a very advanced sex doll.

You tickle Yeojin's toes while Hyeju puts a Hitachi vibrator in her pussy while fingering the little doll at the same time. Yeojin screams hard, and her body twists endlessly, making both of you very entertained. "AHAHAHAHAHA," Yeojin starts laughing, but those laughs are quickly turned into more screams as Hyeju shows no mercy for her cunt, increasing the pace of her fingering and the speed of the vibrator, making Yeojin squirt all over her clothes.

"OH GOD, OH GOD, AHHHHHHH, FUCKKKK," Yeojin screams and groans as Hyeju's fingers go very deep in her pussy, showing her no mercy. "Holy fuck, you weren't lying, Hyeju, what an amazing sex doll you have brought for me," you say to your assistant. Hyeju turns Yeojin into a screaming mess while you keep playing with her feet, her alternating laughs and screams turning you on.

"YOU THINK THIS IS FUCKING FUNNY?" you ask Yeojin as she keeps laughing. "Punish her, Hyeju, break her toes," you tell your assistant, who spanks Yeojin's feed very hard, prompting more screams from the sex doll. You get down low and play with the Hitachi. "I think she likes to be hit," Hyeju says, taking the Hitachi from you and placing it right at Yeojin's clit while she fists her whole arm inside her vagina. 

"HARDER, HARDER," Yeojin begs as she gets fisted hard by Hyeju's long arms. "That's a tight little pussy," your assistant says. Yeojin can't take it anymore, as you see her slamming the walls of the wooden box, begging for mercy, but Hyeju just doesn't seem to stop, fisting her even harder. "AHHHHHHHHHHH," Yeojin keeps screaming. "Well, you said you wanted to cum," you tell her.

"Ask your master if she will let you cum," you tell Yeojin. "MAY A CUM, MS. HYEJU?" Yeojin begs. "Not yet, little bitch," she answers. "Look at this dirty bitch, boss; her squirt is making my white top get completely wet," Hyeju says. Yeojin bypasses any authorization, squirting all over your assistant, who reaches her hand inside the box and runs it over Yeojin's body, making her taste her own cum, before choking her as a punishment. "I didn't tell you to cum, stupid bitch," she says.

"You should thank her for making you cum so hard," you say to Yeojin. "Thank you, Ms. Hyeju," Yeojin answers. "Louder," Hyeju responds. "THANK YOU, MS. HYEJU," Yeojin now screams. "That's what I'm talking about," Hyeju answers, spanking her ass. "That doll is getting smarter each minute," she continues.

"Say thank you, bitch," you say to Yeojin as your fingers enter her pussy at full speed now. "THANK YOU, BITCH," she answers as you spank her cunt and some juices leak out. "She came earlier; I think you should punish her, boss," Hyeju says. "You're damn right," you reply to your assistant.

You unzip your pants, springing out your big cock and slapping it against Yeojin's cunt. "You asked for it, didn't you?" Hyeju says. As you inserted it against Yeojin's fuckhole, you can tell this is the most human-like pussy you have ever found on a sex doll. To make things better, Hyeju gives her some electric shocks on her toes that make Yeojin's walls contract hard against your shaft, giving it an unbelievable tightness sensation.

Yeojin is so small that you just need to get half of your cock in to already make her scream. Hyeju adds to her pain, giving the doll electric shocks right at her clit. "AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, FUCKKKKK," Yeojin can't stop screaming. After taking it slow at first, you just can't resist her tight pussy, pumping it fast and hard under Hyeju's watch, enjoying Yeojin's endless screaming inside the box, which only makes you push harder. Hyeju keeps giving Yeojin more and more shocks, even getting kicked in her face when the little doll reacts hard to them and to your cock, absolutely wrecking her little cunt.

"Be nice to your masters," Hyeju says to Yeojin as you drill her so hard the wooden box shakes like crazy. You quickly get addicted to her warm pussy. "AHHHHH, AHHHHHH," Yeojin screams as Hyeju puts the baton right at her clit, before your fingers replace it. "Did it hurt?" Hyeju asks. "YES, MS. HYEJU," she answers.

"Well, we are just starting," Hyeju says, handling the shocking as she moves to Yeojin's feet while you stay put, pounding her pussy relentlessly. "AHHHHHHH," more screams come out of the box. The speed you pump her makes you quickly get sweaty and drop your clothes on the floor as you fuck Yeojin like a madman. "Say thank you," you tell her. "Thank you," she answers. "Thank you, who?" you reply. "THANK YOU, MASTER," Yeojin replies, making you laugh.

You pull out of Yeojin, a white liquid quickly oozing out of her vagina. "Damn boss, you already came inside her; I don't think the museum's visitors will be able to last long with her, then," Hyeju says. As you jerk your cock off trying to get hard again, you let Hyeju handle Yeojin's cum-filled cunt, massaging and fisting it nonstop, before putting the Hitachi back on it. "Your pussy is so sensive," Hyeju says. "AHHHHH, YEAH," is all Yeojin can answer as her legs keep shaking.

Hyeju's magic hands and magic want make Yeojin cum multiple times. "I didn't tell you to cum, bitch," Hyeju says again, punishing Yeojin with more shocks in her bottom area, torturing the little sex doll much to her sadistic enjoyment. "So you like getting punished, bitch?" you ask Yeojin. "YES, I FUCKING LIKE IT," she replies, screaming.

But Hyeju isn't done yet, bringing a burning cattle prod and sticking it through the hole in the box, marking the logo of the museum right at Yeojin's belly. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH," she loudly screams as her skin gets burned. "You're our property now, bitch," Hyeju says. "You love this, don't you?' she then asks. "Yes, I love it," Yeojin answers.

"I love torturing this bitch," Hyeju says. "Wanna cum again for your boss?" she asks Yeojin. "YESSSSSS," the little doll screams. "You're teaching her some good lessons with all those shocks," you say to your assistant. "Well, I think she wants you to teach her some lessons with your big cock, don't you?" Hyeju replies.

You get back inside Yeojin, this time using her tiny little asshole, making her scream from the start as she's already hypersensitive. You spank her cute butt, making her body twist and turn. Hyeju opens the box, allowing you to choke Yeojin as you fuck her hard in the ass while your assistant pinches her nipples and hummiliates her with some slaps in the face. 

Yeojin looks tired and sweaty as Hyeju asks her. "What lessons did you learn inside that box?" she asks Yeojin, spitting on her face. "TO FOLLOW WHAT MY MASTERS TELL ME," she answers, barely able to think straight at this point. "What else?" Hyeju asks. "TO GET USED AND FUCKED HARD," Yeojin says.

Indeed, that's exactly what you're doing to her now, pounding Yeojin's ass really fast while Hyeju keeps toying with the sex doll's upper body. "It's time to get this bitch out of the box," you say, pushing Yeojin out, making the blindfolded little doll feel relieved for a second. Yeojin can barely walk as Hyeju uncovers her eyes, letting her watch you put her hands in her pussy.

"Get on your knees," Hyeju orders as you stroke your dick and choke Yeojin. "Tell me you're a whore," you say to Yeojin. "I'm a whore," she answers. "Say it louder," you reply. "I'M A WHORE," she screams. "Repeat with your master: I'm a fucking nasty fucking whore," you then say. "I'M A FUCKING NASTY FUCKING WHORE," Yeojin answers.

"Such an obedient sex doll, you truly gave me a great gift, Hyeju," you say. "Thank you, boss," your assistant replies. "What's your favorite toy, nasty whore?" Hyeju asks. "The shocking baton," Yeojin answers. Hyeju then shoves it in her tongue and runs it over her sweaty body all the way down to her pussy with you choking her. "AHHHHH FUCK!" Yeojin screams as Hyeju hits her pussy with lots of shocks before kissing her and spitting on her face.

"Wanna keep going?" Hyeju asks Yeojin. "Yes, Ms. Hyeju," she answers. "Then let's go to the other room," Hyeju says.

"Are you thirsty?" Hyeju starts asking. "Yes, ms. Hyeju," Yeojin says once again as Hyeju drops a cup of water on a dog bowl while you keep choking Yeojin. "Then drink it," Hyeju orders as you push Yeojin's head against the bowl, watching her lick it like a puppy while you spank her ass. "Bark like a dog," you tell her. "Woof, woof," Yeojin says. "Perfect," you say, laughing at her before Hyeju shoves her face against the bowl. "Drink it, bitch," Hyeju says. "Good girl," she continues, looking at Yeojin's wet face as you keep telling her to bark while turning her cheeks red.

"Put your face in the water," Hyeju orders as Yeojin gets pushed down it. You come from behind and insert your cock back in her pussy while Hyeju grabs her head and shoves it against the bow, Yeojin trembling as your hard thrusts make her body shake. "AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH," she screams. "Arch that ass for him," Hyeju says as you and Yeojin give literal meaning to doggystyle, fucking her like a good submissive puppy.

You grab Yeojin by her shoulders and keep leveling her cunt. She screams like a bitch as you show no signs of slowing down. Her cheeks are completely red after so much spanking, and so are the walls of her pussy after so much drilling from your big cock.

"Open your mouth," Hyeju tells Yeojin as you pull out of her, and she turns her around. You slap your cock all over her doll-esque face as she screams. "Do you like that dick on your face?" you ask her. "I LIKE THAT FUCKING DICK IN MY FACE," she answers, leading you to shove it down her throat, grab her hair, and start fucking her face like crazy. 

"There you go, bitch, gag on this cock," you say to her. Yeojin giggles. "Do you think this is funny, bitch?' you ask her. "No, no, sorry, master," Yeojin answers. But it's too late. Hyeju comes and ties her arms up as you choke the little sex doll while stuffing your cock all the way down her throat. Yeojin loses her breath, but you just don't care; the more tired she looks, the harder you fuck her face.

"Say it loud for me: I love cock," you say to her, fucking her face hard. Yeojin doesn't answer for a while; when she does, all she gets is more facefucking. "Such a big, nasty whore," you tell her as Hyeju ties a rope around Yeojin's neck. "Tell me again what you are," you say. "I'M A BIG FUCKING SLUT," Yeojin answers screaming, with her mouth quickly getting shut down once again by your massive cock fucking it.

"You make my pussy so wet, master, keep fucking my face," Yeojin begs as you stuff her mouth while Hyeju keeps tying the little sex doll up. "You're such a pretty little whore," you tell her. "Then say it out loud: I want to suck more cock," you continue. "I WANNA SUCK MORE COCK," Yeojin screams as your hands heavily press her neck.

You give Yeojin what she asks for, stuffing her mouth full of cock. Yeojin puts a pair of clamps in Yeojin's nipples and gets the amazing view of your cock bulging under Yeojin's tiny throat with your tip hitting right where the rope she placed on Yeojin's neck is at.

"Knock knock," you say, toying at Yeojin. "WHO'S THERE?" You can hear her screaming just to get by your cock, fully stuffed in her mouth. "It's your master's big cock," you say, laughing at her. Hyeju plays with Yeojin's boobs as you continue to make her choke on your cock before your assistant grabs the little sex doll to her side. "Who told you to get on your feet?" Hyeju asks as Yeojin tries to get up.

Hyeju drags Yeojin to a dinner table. "Bend over," she orders. Yeojin can only scream as you give her butt a little spanking. You spread Yeojin's pussy lips as Hyeju shoves a dildo up them. "There you go," you say as Hyeju starts thrusting the dildo up Yeojin's cunt. And that's just a warm-up.

You come from behind and stuff your cock in Yeojin's ass, giving her multiple spanks while doing so. "AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHH," Yeojin screams, but it gets muffled by an automatic thrusting machine that Hyeju turns on and shoves right at her mouth, making the little sex doll go airtight. To make things even worse for poor Yeojin, Hyeju brings back the Hitachi want and shoves it in her cunt as well.

Yeojin's body twirls as she's getting stuffed from all sides. It feels like she's getting electrocuted multiple times, her body moving like someone who just got struck by lightning. Hyeju has no mercy for her and lets you handle Yeojin all by yourself while she keeps screaming as she spreads Yeojin's legs and then allows you to grab them and take full control.

"Don't take your fucking cunt away," Hyeju says as your cock gets back deep inside Yeojin's pussy. "YES, MS. HYEJU," she screams. "AHHHHHHH," Yeojing screams as you hit her cervix. "AHHHHHHH," she then screams again as Hyeju dumps cold water over her tiny body.

Your cock stabs Yeojin's pussy hard. "AH, AH, AH, AH, AH," she repeatadely screams, Hyeju coming to grab her neck as Yeojin squirts, pushing your cock out. "If you want to cum, then ask for permission," Hyeju says. "I wanna cum, please, Ms.. Hyeju, LET ME CUM," Yeojin begs as you pound her violently. "CAN I PLEASE CUM?" Yeojin asks. "Yes, please cum for me; make me proud, you dirty little slut," she answers. "I'M FUCKING CUMMMING," Yeojin screams as she is utterly wasted and squirts all over the floor.

"I told you not to take your cunt away," Hyeju says, spitting on Yeojin's face. "Now you're going to let him fuck you in the ass instead," she continues. You follow Hyeju's instructions and switch holes, manhandling Yeojin's ass hard from the start and pushing the limits of the little sex doll. "AHHHHH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" she screams. "Don't you fucking slide way; do everything in your power to stay on his cock," Hyeju commands as Yeojin can't stop screaming, the sex doll just rolling her eyes under Hyeju's watch as her ass gets destroyed.

You briefly pull out of Yeojin's ass and start playing with her pussy, pinching her lips and rubbing her clit hard, making her twist and scream. "You want that dick inside you again?" Hyeju asks. "OH, YES, PLEASE," Yeojin begs as you get back in her pussy. "Turn your head down and watch that monster cock bulge under your belly," Hyeju commands, shoving Yeojin's head for her to watch the destruction you impose in her little cunt.

Your balls clap hard against Yeojin's cheeks while Hyeju pinches her nippes. "AHHHHHHHHHH," she screams. You go back to toying with her little clit, making Yeojin shake like an earthquake just hit her. You close her legs and fuck her sidways hard in the ass again, just switching between her fuckholes at will. But in the end, you have truly found a perfect new toy to play with.

"Her clit is so small yet it throbs so hard," you say as you put your hands in her pussy once again to play with it. Yeojin's face turns red as your hands make her squirt and cum. "You want that cock in your pussy again?" Hyeju asks her. "Yes, Ms. Hyeju," Yeojin answers. "Then tell him what you want," Hyeju replies. "I WANT THAT COCK IN MY PUSSY," Yeojin screams once again.

"You want it?" Hyeju stays asking. "YES, MS. HYEJU," Yeojin answers and gets it as your cock finds its way back into her little cunt. Hyeju chokes Yeojin with the rope, and your fast thrusts catch her unguarded, nearly making her fall off the table. "OHHHHH NOOOOO," she screams as your cock shows no mercy towards her pussy, loud sounds coming from your hips clapping against her cheeks. You hold Yeojin by her tiny waist and deliver her a punishment she won't ever forget. "AHHHHH, FUCKKKK," she stays screaming.

"Make her cum," Hyeju tells you. Yeojin is so numb at this point that tears flow from her eyes. She cries like a baby, but that only makes you push harder. You and Hyeju are delighted to watch this cute sex doll suffer as much as possible. "AHHHHHH, I'M GONNA FUCKING CUM," Yeojin screams.

"Get on your knees again," Hyeju commands as she pushes Yeojin like a knight riding a horse. "What do you do when you get to cum?" she asks Yeojin. "I THANK MY MASTERS," the sex doll answers. "I shouldn't have reminded you again," Hyeju replies, spitting on Yeojin's face. "Then why didn't you thank us? Were you too distracted?" Hyeju asks. "Yes, I'm sorry, Ms. Hyeju," Yeojin answers. "And do you think I give a fuck about you being distracted?" Hyeju then says. "No, sorry," Yeojin answers.

"You're damn right about that; I don't give a fuck about you; you're nothing but a fuckdoll that should be humilitated like the little whore you are. Now get your face on the ground and your ass up,"" Hyeju commands. "What are you for us, little whore?" Hyeju asks. "A SEX DOLL," Yeojin answers.

Hyeju isn't satisfied, bringing the Hitachi back into Yeojin's pussy and fisting her anus. The little doll starts to squirt hard. "AHHHHHH, YOU MAKE ME FUCKING CUM SO HARD, MS. HYEJU," Yeojin screams. "Keep your fucking face on the floor and thank me, you fucking slut," Hyeju says. "Thank you, Ms. Hyeju," Yeojin answers.

"Time to teach her another lesson," you say, putting your shoes against Yeojin's face. "Lick it, little whore," you command, and she obliges while Hyeju still turns her pussy into a squirting machine.

"I CAN'T..." Yeojin tries to scream, but Hyeju interrupts her. "You can't what? What can't you do, little whore?" she asks the tiny girl. "Nothing, nothing, sorry, Ms. Hyeju, I will do whatever my masters want," Yeojin retracts. "You want to give up? Are you a failure, stupid whore?" Hyeju asks her. "NO, I'M NOT AHHHHHHH," Yeojin yells as the stimulation from Hyeju's vibrator is too much for her to overcome.

"Crawl and bark," Hyeju commands as she grabs Yeojin's hair. The sex doll keeps moving across the floor on all fours, you chasing her to spank her ass multiple times and laughing. Hyeju teases Yeojin with the electric shock baton. "AHHHHHHHH," she yells again. "Now find the boss' cock or I will electrocute you again," Hyeju orders.

Yeojin's vision is blurred at this point, and she struggles to find your cock. Hyeju gets mad at her. "Come on, whore, find his cock," she says, following Yeojin across the floor. "Spread your legs," you tell Yeojin, who manages to oblige even though she can barely see you. You then stick the Hitachi back in her pussy and enjoy watching her body shake and twist as you and Hyeju take turns spanking her ass while you fist Yeojin's asshole.

"Such a fun sex doll, isn't she, boss?" Hyeju asks you. "Definitely," you answer, as you and Hyeju toy with her pussy, you with the Hitachi, and her with the shock batom. "Please shock me, ms. Hyeju," Yeojin begs. "AHHHHHHHH," and then screams when Hyeju follows her orders.

You pick up your phone and start filming. Hyeju brings Yeojin to submisssion. "AHHHHHH FUCKKKKKK," the sex doll screams as Hyeju shoves her hands up her cunt and puts the vibrator at maximum intensity. "Bring me your cunt; let me fist it," Hyeju says. "AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHH," Yeojin can't stop screaming. You shut her up, shoving your cock back in her mouth balls deep until she gags. Yeojin prays to God, but all she can get is an unconventional spit roasting of Hyeju's hands fisting her pussy and your cock destroying her tiny throat.

"Heads up, take his cock in your mouth, bitch," Hyeju orders. After fucking her face, you pull out of Yeojin and slap your cock in her face. "What do you say, bitch?" Hyeju asks. "Thank you, master," Yeojin answers as you keep using her throat like a fleshlight. "Look at me, whore," you tell her, spitting on Yeojin's face and doing everything you can with your cock to punish her.

"You like it, bitch?" you say, swinging your cock in her face and then pulling Yeojin's hair as you make her gag on your cock, holding her nose and choking her. "Yes, master, I love it," she says. "Then take it," you tell her, facefucking her hard. "Tell me how much of a slut you are," you say as soon as you pull out. "I'M A BIG FUCKING SLUT, I'M A NASTY WHORE," Yeojin screams.

You put Yeojin on all fours on the floor and spank her ass a bit before getting back inside her tiny butthole. You pull her hair and stomp on her head, manhandling her anus hard. "Let's go, show me you're a dirty slut, the best fucking sex doll ever," you say to her. Yeojin is very out of breath as your toes cover her mouth and block her from moaning while you destroy her butthole like a hungry animal, your balls clapping hard against her cheeks and your hands slapping it hard. Hyeju comes in from behind and chokes her, freeing you to use all your forces to fuck Yeojin's ass as hard as you can. "AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHHH," she can't stop screaming as you make sure to stick your cock balls deep in her butthole and pound it relentlessly.

"UHHHHHH, OHHHHH GODDDDD, FUCKKKK," Yeojin screams as she's barely able to take the rough pounding you give her. "Cum all over his cock, bitch," Hyeju commands as Yeojin's anal fuckhole is completely sore, you groping her cheeks and just manhandling her like a bull until she squirts once again. You pull out and massage her sensitve cunt, letting her juices cover your naked body.

You get back on Yeojin's ass and mount on top of her, immobilizing her on the floor as your cock can only think of attacking her asshole as hard as you can. "AHHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHH, I'M CUMMING AGAIN, DON'T STOP, AHHHHHHH IT HURTS," she screams, pushing you away just not to get snapped in half. "I say you pushing him away, bitch; you're such a broken whore now; I couldn't take the pain in your ass," Hyeju says, grabbing Yeojin's face and spitting on it once again.

You sit on the floor as Hyeju orients Yeojin to her next challenge. "Time to sit that pussy on his cock, bitch," she says, guiding the little sex doll warm cunt right into your throbbing pole. In spite of being utterly exasperated, Yeojin can't contain her sluttiness and starts bouncing on your cock as soon as it gets inside her, many out-of-breath moans coming out of her mouth.

However, Yeojin's tiredness gets the best of her, and her ride comes to a halt. No problem, though, because as soon as she does, you start thrusting your cock up against her pussy, making her scream as Hyeju enjoys your monster manhood bulging under the sex doll's tiny belly. "AHHHHH, AHHHHH, OH GOD!" Yeojin screams. "Does it feel good?" Hyeju asks as Yeojin barks. "Then fucking ride it, you lazy bitch," she continues.

Yeojin uses all her forces just to stay on her feet as your fast thrusts eviscerate her little cunt. She stops for a second, but Hyeju is right there to punish her. "Ride it, bitch," she says, spanking Yeojin with a whip. Yeojin's tiny torso turns red as Hyeju spanks it hard while her pussy throbs with your cock stretching it out just as hard. "Come on, touch your pussy, cum on his cock," Hyeju commands.

You give a little break to Yeojin, letting her bounce on your cock freely. But Hyeju stays as sadistic as ever, still spanking the little sex doll. "Fucking ride it," Hyeju keeps saying as she wraps a piece of clothing around Yeojin's neck and chokes the sex doll, making it even harder for her. Hyeju puts the Hitachi back on Yeojin's cunt, while you take advantage of her weakness and go back to pump her pussy hard from down low. "Don't hop off that cock," Hyeju commands as Yeojin manages to stay on top of you in spite of being utterly wasted.

"AHHHHHH GODDDDDDDD," Yeojin screams as Hyeju shoves the Hiatchi in her cunt and then fingers it, following the pace of your cock pounding her hard. "MAKE ME CUM, PLEASE," Yeojin begs as her pussy gets absolutely wrecked by your cock and Hyeju's fingers. "Take it, take it, take it," you say to her as you keep stretching Yeojin out. "Ride it; I didn't tell you to stop," an angry Hyeju says as soon as Yeojin tries to take a break.

Yeojin bounces on your cock as Hyeju pinches her nipples and puts a clothespin right at her clit. Yeojin shakes as you pound her hard. "AHHHHHHHH," she stays screaming. You slap your cock against her clit while Hyeju plays with the clothespin on it, connecting it to a line and pushing it to make Yeojin suffer even more as your cock pounds her. Hyeju licks and spits on Yeojin's clit, enjoying the screams of the little sex doll.

"Let's put her on her side, shall we?" Hyeju says. You go back inside Yeojin's pussy as her body and yours are on the floor. "Play with your pussy while he fucks it," Hyeju commands as Yeojin masturbates herself while you fuck her from behind. Hyeju chokes the little sex doll as each thrust you give inside Yeojin's asshole now feels like a stabbing to her and leads to screams. "Rub your pussy," Hyeju commands, spanking Yeojin's back. "AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, OH GOD," the little girl screams as it keeps getting spanked, you now reaching to grope her little tits. 

"I'M GONNA CUM, MS HYEJU," Yeojin says as she squirts all over your cock. Hyeju lives you and her all by yourselves as you take your cock balls deep in Yeojin's ass. But not for long, as Hyeju comes out swinging the whip on Yeojin's body so hard that your cock detaches from her pussy. 

Yeojin has completely collapsed to the floor as Hyeju rubs her pussy hard. "OHHHHH GODDDDD, FUCKKKK, AH, AH, AH, CAN I CUM MS. HYEJU?" Yeojin begs as Hyeju keeps massaging her cunt while your cock pounds it. The little sex doll laughs and giggles, completely overwhelmed and creaming herself until she collapses into a squirting mess.

"Keep your hands behind your back and your ass on your feet," Hyeju tells Yeojin. "Yes, ms. Hyeju," she says. You stroke your cock in anticipation as Hyeju prepares one final challenge for the little sex doll, tying Yeojin with a rope and pouring some cold water on Yeojin's body. The rope tightens on Yeojin's neck, almost hanging her. Hyeju comforts the sex doll with some rubbing in her pussy.

You stroke your cock as you stare at Yeojin all tied up. Watching her completely submissive and hummiliated turns you. "Cum all over my face," Yeojin begs. "Please cum on my face, master," she keeps asking for it until you can no longer hold yourself, giving Yeojin a bullsye cumshot that covers her face completely white. "I'm your owner now, little sex doll," you say to her.

Yeojin receives a cleaning shower and gets put back in her box. For now on, she'll be the top attraction from your sex museum. And what a success she would become, with guys enduring hour-long queues just to fuck that little sex doll and drop their seeds inside her. Every day after the museum closes she gets cleaned off from all the cum they dump on her, and every day in the morning you get her ready for another day of sex-dolling as you turn her engines on with an early sex session. 

"Damn, this sex doll thing is really good; I need to import another one," you say one day.

"Where do you want me to bring the next sex doll from?" Hyeju asks.

"I think Japan would be a good idea," you say.

[shytastemakerthing]

Hey there! Maybe this is an odd request but I was wondering if you could do a list or maybe write a few characters of your choice on who would find piercings or body mods most attractive vs who wouldn't? For example I have my tongue and angel fangs done, dye my hair constantly, and I plan on getting a cherry blossom tattoo on my back. Would the Pomefiore house turn their nose at that?? Would it be against the rules at Heartslabyul? Or are there characters that you think would immediately crush on someone who looked like that? If not feel free to ignore, but I was just wondering if I could get your take on this!

A/N: The amount of ideas that I have for this should be criminal XD. But for the sake of not turning this into one massive essay, we'll just cover the basics for each boy. Enjoy!

TW: None

Note: Ortho is strictly PLATONIC

Riddle: He isn't completely against piercings or tattoos, but given how he was raised, his mother certainly beat it into his head that such things were not okay and destroyed one's body. He's been working on that a bit. Certainly would like the single lobe piercings the most, especially if they were rose or flower themed. Tattoos? Yeah, that will take much more getting used to.

Trey: Look at this man and tell me he isn't into that. All he asks is that you take proper care of them. Will absolutely go with you to choose out more. He isn't fully opposed to tattoos, he just doesn't like that caused you pain throughout. But seeing the after makes it worth it

Cater: More of a piercings guy. Absolutely gets you more, whether it be from deals he gets, from his sisters, or he was scrolling and saw an add. Wants all the pictures. Not a fan of tattoos surprisingly. Would be more into the temporary ones or even henna

Ace: Heavily into both. Man looks at you and is fighting the heart eyes. There's just something so attractive about them that tickles his brain just right. If you were to get some kind of a small heart tattoo somewhere, much like the drawing he has under his eye, the ego boost would be insane.

Deuce: Slightly more into tattoos than the piercings. It's a serious thing, permanent in many cases, and it's a long and sometimes painful process. He admires the dedication. Often traces any that you have and 100% goes with you if you want to get another one

Leona: The man has a tattoo. Certainly more of a tattoo guy. Not to say he doesn't like piercings, he just feels like they would easily get in the way or pulled that makes them a bother. Now, tattoos? You're speaking his language. The moment you mention you want a new one, he's taking you to where he has gotten his, only the best is what you get, willing to spend as much as needed. After all, if you want a good tattoo, you must be willing to pay. 1000% find tattoos attractive

Ruggie: Not the biggest on either tbh. Mostly because they cost so much money and as someone who grew up not having much of it, would rather keep what he has than spend it on these.

Jack: Not a tattoo guy. Piercings are hot or miss for him. Depends on what they are and where. He loves seeing little moon or wolf earrings on you, something simple

Azul: Honestly, more of a tattoo guy. The permanence of them is what gets him. Being 100% positive that you want thing on your body for the rest of your life. Absolute game over if you get anything octopus related, he's ascended then and there. Man is so red, stumbling over his words, his brain shuts down. Absolutely traces it whenever it's just the two of you... yes, it has sometimes led to more.. heated moments

Jade: Absolutely a piercings guy. Doesn't matter where, he loves them and if you happen to get a set of moray eel ones or mushrooms for the ears, no one knows where both of you vanished too. Finds them more attractive than he would like to admit. Also goes with you if you want more

Floyd: It's about 50/50 for him, he likes both, leans more towards tattoos, though. Another tracer. Kisses them all of the time, gives little nibbles..... you got one of a moray (where is up to you), he's never been more attracted to you than in this moment. Also, no one knows where you guys went after that... he just wants... further examination

Kalim: Honestly a tattoo guy. Another who will fund when you want more. What you want, you get, and can honestly go a bit overboard, but he just wants to make sure you are happy with what you have! Has more wholesome intentions than the rest when he traces them

Jamil: Not the biggest fan of either. More of a henna tattoo guy if you want them. Will absolutely do them himself, the man is a natural. Plus, it's an intimate moment for the both of you and he enjoys the atmosphere

Vil: Surprisingly a piercing guy. He finds them attractive on you, especially when you pair them well with whatever you are wearing for the day. He can't explain it, but there is just something about a lip piercing that draws him in. His eyes are often drawn to your lips as it is anyways, the piercing isn't helping. If you have a tattoo somewhere hidden, that only he gets to see (may not be the biggest fan of them but knowing he is the only one to ever see it sends this man on a trip), sends a shudder down his spine

Rook: VERY much into both. Both send his brain in a million different directions. Traces them, kisses them, helps you change the piercings. intentions are not always the most pure, but that's the fun of it. Takes you for more, even recommends more bold piercings and offers options for tattoos

Epel: Piercing guy. More so, he just likes them. Likes how they look or would shine. Just more of a pleasant thing he likes to see. Gets you little apple studs to put in your ears.

Idia: Honestly? He leans either way.But anything that relates to his interests or pomegranates (if you know, you know), and the man is a goner. Hair is entirely pink as he tries to avert his gaze. Funds more for you all of the time, he has the money for it and he loves to spoil you. Absolutely traces tattoos while you are asleep. If you're awake? Will absolutely lead to heated moments

Ortho: Helps you make sure that new tattoos and piercings are kept nice and clean! We can't have you getting any infections. He doesn't want anything happening to his best friend, after all! If you are looking for something new for your piercings, will have the best shops available with the best metals to use.

Malleus: Surprisingly, a tattoo guy. If you get a dragon, he is gone.... and so are you. Congrats, you're married now. Just the thought that you are willing to sit there for hours under a needle piercing your skin brings a new sort of admiration. Starts with pure intentions, but instincts get the best of him

Lilia: Piercing guy all the way, he loves them. Recommends all different types and styles. Bats are the most common that he finds for you. Intentions are nowhere near being pure most of the time, knowing him. Especially with a lip or tongue piercing, kisses you all of the time

Silver: Surprisingly big into both of them. Again, it's the permanence of them, something that he loves. Like Epel, just enjoys the meaning they may have and how they would look on you.

Sebek: HEAR ME OUT! Big on both of them all of the way, especially piercings. Again, some of it is a dedication thing for him, but there is just something about a tongue piercing that riles him up a bit, most because the way that it feels during more intimate moments that you would both have with one another. Tattoos are a dedication that he admires all the way. You have one croc related and he is a goner

Have a wonderful day/night!

[mywhisperingwords]

these three little words | fred g. weasley

summary: three times fred told you he loved you and one time he truly meant it word count: 3.6k masterlist

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

Fred put a hand on his heart while saying, “You wound me greatly.”

Rolling your eyes, you kept walking, leaving him behind, “And yet you are still alive and well just to annoy me.”

Behind you, you could hear him snickering to himself before he caught up with you.

“Just you, my darling,” he told you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “besides, all I said was that your sudden interest in Potions was quite suspicious. For some unknown reason I doubt that you do it for George and me.”

He put his mouth close to your ear, his hot breath tickling your cheek and the sudden closeness made it hard for you to comprehend the next words he whispered, “One might wonder if some specific professor has anything to do with that.”

It took you a moment, but you finally realized what he meant.

“Are you seriously accusing me of fancying Snape? Snape of all people? Sickening,” you shouted as you pushed him away from you with a revolted expression. “That thought alone makes me want to throw up in your face.”

“Now, now, don’t be so vulgar. Snape is awkwardly handsome, quite old and wise. Maybe he could teach you some things,” he started winking suggestively at you before breaking in a laughing fit.

All you could was stare at him, horrified by the idea alone.

This whole conversation only sparked because you mentioned your study���s that were related to potion making. Which you only took up, to help out with new creations in relation to Fred, and George, of course.

Maybe he wasn’t that far off with the whole fancying idea, he just confused the person you fancied.

“Do you hear that?” he asked abruptly, a serious look on his face, that made your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way.

“What?” you asked, still annoyed but also a bit nervous. You weren’t that far away from the forbidden forest and you never knew what kind of creatures were luring in the shadows.

“I thought I heard,” he paused for a moment, suspension rising, “wedding bells.”

“Merlin, you’re a git,” you moaned.

You swiftly turned away from him and crossed your arms, more annoyed with him and his stupid jokes. Quickly you started walking, trying to get away from him.

Maybe it was your attitude or maybe he just realized that you were done with his jokes at the moment but he immediately went after you.

When he caught up with, he again put his arm on your shoulder, before saying, “Aw, come on. You know I was just joking.”

Ignoring him, you kept on walking in the direction of the castle. You weren’t bothered by his jokes, not really. It’s Fred you’re talking about here, he does not mean any harm — at least not to you.

You were also not upset by his little scare, or maybe a little bit. To be honest, you were not quite sure why you were so agitated currently.

Maybe it was the fact that you spent your free time studying, just for him, and George of course. But mostly for Fred. And all he could do is make a mockery out of it just so he doesn’t have to deal with real feelings.

Because you knew, that he was overwhelmed when you told him your studies were a way of helping him and George with their products. Fred wasn’t someone who asked for help, he’d rather deal with his problems on his own. But he also knew that accepting offered help wasn’t a weakness, especially when it came from you.

You recognized it in the way he got quiet for a moment, avoiding looking at you, his cheeks turning a shade of pink, before starting to joke around.

It was a typical Fred reaction.

“Don’t be like that, darling. I love you, don’t ignore me,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the side of your head.

Sometimes you wondered if he knew, when he said things like that but you were aware of the fact that he only saw you as a friend—he had made that clear numerous times.

“I’ll stop ignoring you if you stop joking about me and Snape,” you told him.

He held up his hands in surrender, “Deal.” Grinning at you, he linked his arm with yours, continuing the way up the hill towards the castle.

After a beat of silence, he interrupted it by saying, “But be honest with me, you fancy him at least a tiny bit, right?”

This time, when you pushed him away, you couldn’t help yourself and let out a laugh at his stupid joke.

&

Nights like these were your favorite.

Sitting in Gryffindor common room that was buzzing with conversation, around the fireplace with the people who felt like home to you, and Fred, who was so much more.

All the jokes, the laughter and the love that was shared between you made it sometimes difficult to deem this your life��it felt too good to be true.

Angelina was just retelling the story of how her newest fling asked her out, right after he won his quidditch game. The whole school witnessed that slightly awkward scene, but Angelina was head over heels about this public display of affection.

You could see that George was not so fond of these news, he was averting his gaze and seemed to obviously be more than annoyed at Angelina’s pawning about this handsome Hufflepuff boy.

If only George would tell her how he felt, but who were you to judge, considering you could not even tell your best friend about your feelings.

George’s behavior seemed to be obvious to anyone but Angelina, but Lee was the one to finally put George out of his misery and interrupt her speech, “I can’t even fathom what rid that guy to do all that in public.”

Angelina rolled her eyes, while everyone else laughed. “Maybe the fact that he knows what a woman wants?” she said, raising her eyebrow at you, clearly looking for support on this matter.

But you were the wrong one to address, because you couldn’t imagine anything more horrifying than somebody confessing their love for you in front of everyone.

“I understand that you like that kind of thing, but me personally, I think I would die of embarrassment. I don’t want my love to be so out in the open, at the end of the day it’s only between me and that person,” you told her, giving her an apologetic smile.

While trying to convey your thoughts on that matter, you couldn’t help yourself but let your mind wander to the person you always thought about these days it felt like.

Fred was sitting right next to you, but he was not his usual loud and joking self. There was something weighing on his mind and you wished you could just crawl inside it to find out what was wrong.

But you could not, so all you could do was lean to his side and quietly ask him, “Are you alright?”

Your words seemed to have pulled him out of his thoughts, because his eyes locked on yours, he was quiet for a moment, taking his time to think about his answer. He seemed to find it in your face, because he slowly began to grin before jumping out of his seat, interrupting George who was just talking enthusiastically.

Even with everyone’s eyes on him, he seemed to have only eyes for you.

“Oh, dearest lady of mine heart!” he exclaimed, striding toward you with a grand sweep of his arm. The room fell silent, a few chuckles escaping from his friends as he carried on with exaggerated passion.

He took your hand, eyes glinting with mischief as he dropped to one knee. “Thou art as radiant as the morning sun that doth chase away the drear of night,” he intoned, voice dramatic and thick with feigned longing. “Might I but win a single glance of thy affection, my soul would soar higher than the castle towers!”

You bit back a grin, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone laughed, watching Fred carry on his theatrical performance.

He leaned in, lowering his voice just a touch. “Ah, fair lady, dost thou know what torment ‘tis to sit beside thee, with no claim upon thy heart?” His tone softened, eyes suddenly more serious than playful. “For, alas, thou hast bewitched me in ways I can scarce confess.”

Someone whistled, and George called out, “Go on, Freddie! Pour your heart out!”

With a smirk, Fred straightened and gave a bow. “Then, my fair one, grant me but a single smile, and I shall know all is well with my heart—for it beats for thee alone.”

&

You were staring holes into the ceiling, wide awake.

That wasn’t a rarity these days.

The impending war was hanging over your head, the uncertainty these days was keeping you up most nights nowadays. Never knowing if the next day would arrive with word of the beginning of the end.

You were staying at the Burrow, a house that has always felt like a safe place, a second home, to you. Lately it didn’t feel as secure as it used to, only the people occupying the space giving it the feeling of a home.

People were scared and though you tried not to show it, you were too.

Sleep was not going to come, you were sure of that. It has come worse and worse in the last few weeks.

That was the reason for why you would spend most nights in at the porch, looking out at the trees until the sun would rise and the rest of the house would wake up.

Some nights Fred would catch you up, not being able to rest himself, so he’d keep you company for a while, until sooner or later falling asleep on the floor next to you.

He would sometimes try to lighten the mood, trying to get you to laugh. Trying to put a smile on your lips, to make these times feel less daunting. And other times he would just sit in silence next to you, watching the sunrise. That’s when you would know that even Fred himself was struggling with being hopeful.

But you would never talk about it, because that would mean that this was real. The possibility of death and loss might not just be that — a possibility.

This night was different than the others and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why that was.

Maybe the reason was, that Fred was already out of bed. Normally you would be the first to come downstairs and he would soon after follow. Sometimes you would swear that he would just listen for your footsteps down the hallway, before he would emerge from his room.

This time when you walked down the stairs, you saw that the side door was slightly open.

When you walked by the kitchen window, you could see Fred sitting outside, staring at the night sky.

He did not acknowledge your presence when you took a seat next to him. All he did was continue to stare at the stars that shone so brightly, even in times like these, looking deep in thought.

After a few minutes of silence, his quiet question was a startling reminder that this fight was taking a constant toll on everyone, even the ones filled with happiness.

“Don’t you wish that it would all just end?”

You did not expect a question like this from him, the one person in this world that always had a hopeless optimism, no matter how bad things looked, he was the one that always said that things can only get better, even with a dagger in his heart.

There was no answer, that you could give him. At least not one, that he did not already know himself.

After a long moment of silence, where you admired the clear night-sky, you told him in a soft voice, “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“Yes, yes they are,” he agreed, but when you looked over at him, his gaze wasn’t directed towards the sky, no, it was directed at you.

All you could do was stare back at him, and listen to the beating of your heart. You swore, if you stopped breathing, you could also pick up the beat of his.

“I love you,” he whispered and the beating of your heart stopped, for only a second, “You’re my best friend.”

How strange it was to feel anything at all.

&

You were bleeding.

A few moments before, you got hit, you think, you couldn’t remember when it happened exactly.

All you could do was to keep going, ignoring the humming pain at your side. The adrenaline pumping in your veins was keeping you from thinking clearly, acknowledging the deep wound.

The one and only thing that was on your mind, was Fred.

Ever since you heard his name leaving someone’s lips, mentioning that he was hurt, severely, all you could do was look for him in every face that laid on the ground. So many bodies, so many souls that have left before their time.

You felt guilty, that every time you did not see his face on any of the bodies, you felt a sense of relief.

With every turn you took, people were trying desperately to make it out alive. It was a miracle that you were even still alive at this point, with the way you were running past Death Eaters without a care in the world.

It was in the Great Hall where you finally found him, sitting on one of the gurneys.

Without a second thought, you ran towards him, engulfing him in your arms, needing to make sure that he was real and not just a figment of your imagination. There was too much demise for you not to consider that you yourself have already passed.

But when Fred put his arms around you and pulled you against his body you knew that this was real, because it hurt like hell. He was pressing against the wound on your side and you were hurting him too, you must be, given the state he was in. But not any of this mattered when you felt so secure in his arms.

“What were you thinking?” you muttered in his neck, not wanting to let go of him, “You could be dead.”

Fred’s ghost of a laugh brushed the skin of your cheek, leaving a haunted touch. His response to your worries was unconcerned, “I’m not.”

His carelessness made you push him from you, turning your head to the side, so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of the tears welling in your eyes when you whispered, “But you could’ve been.”

The realization hit you at once. There was a sudden urge to just scream your soul out, as you acknowledged that there was a possibility that you could not be sitting here with Fred.

But you did not lash out, no, you broke down. The adrenaline rush and the fear of losing Fred was leaving your body at once and you began crying, not being able to hold them in any longer.

There were so many emotions you were feeling in this moment, guilt for not staying with Fred, anger at anyone who harmed him, and panic for everything you have endured to still be alive.

Fred reached out his hand, taking ahold of yours, muttering sweet nothings to you, “I’m okay, hey, I’m okay.” But you wouldn’t hear it, even if his words rang true. The idea of finding a lifeless Fred in the Great Hall was still to raw. All he could do to comfort you, was to hold you, and he did as he continued to whisper, “I’m right here, alive and breathing.”

You heard his words but you did not recognize them, too caught up with sorting through the mess of your mind. But his next words finally got through to you, because he confessed with a low voice and a soft smile, “I love you too much to just leave you like that.”

Only a few moments later, he noticed the blood on your shirt, a fearful expression on his face as he saw your exhausted eyes, yelling out, “I need a healer. Now!”

&

Something shifted between the two of you after the war, you could feel it in the air, almost being able to touch it with your bare hands.

It was in the way he looked at you, like you would vanish the moment he looked away, and the way he touched you, the way he refused to let go of you, like he feared that you might fade away from his life.

As if he wasn’t the one that could’ve almost slipped away from you.

Maybe it was a reassurance to him, to feel that he was still here, alive and breathing.

To you it was torture. Never before has he been so close to you, yet so far. It was cruel, if you were being honest.

You had taken on the responsibility of helping out with the shop, with Fred healing and George being overwhelmed with the workload, it only made sense.

That was at least what you told yourself. The whole truth was, that you too were scared that if you only for a second turned around that he would be gone. That it had all only been a dream, and Fred had not survived the war but had succumbed to his injuries.

But he had.

It was a day like the one before, you sat next to Fred in the office after the shop had closed, looking over some of the paperwork.

You worked in silence next to one another, but all you fixate on was the way his thigh was plastered on your thigh, the way his arm was pressing right into your arm. It was hard to tell where you began and he ended, everything was blended together and you loathed it.

You hated it, because it was everything you ever wanted, but it looked wrong, misshapen.

“When I was talking to George earlier, he asked if you were staying over again, I told him that you were,” he mumbled, not looking up from his work.

That had been another thing that had been creeping into your new everyday without you noticing it at first. You spend most of your time at their flat, only going to yours to get the mail and water your plants, that were slowly rotting away with the amount of times you were actually around to take care of them.

Like so many other things, it had been unspoken. An unspoken agreement between you, that was just there.

Just like it had been unspoken that you would no longer spend the night on the living room sofa and instead on Fred’s bed, when he saw the uncomfortable sleep you would have on that sofa. Which was not completely true, because it wasn’t the sofa keeping you awake, it was the nightmares.

It was a day like this, long ago, when instead of letting you go left to the living room, he gently took your hand and lead you into his room. Neither of you said a word, when you got ready for bed. You just laid down together, taking comfort in one another, while holding onto each other.

You did not talk about, how you slept better together, or how the nightmares were fewer now. That was just another thing that sneaked its way into your everyday routine.

So when you walked up the stairs into his flat, that felt more like home to you than your own home, you did not say anything, because it was just the way things were now.

And you did not say anything, when you two stood in his tiny bathroom and undressed for bed, because it was just the way things were now.

And you did not say anything, when you crawled into his bed, onto your side, because it was just the way things were now.

But when he put his arms around you, and whispered those three words into your ear, like it was just a part of your new normal, you could not keep quiet any longer.

“Don’t say that, please, don’t say that. Not if you don’t mean it,” you whimpered into the darkness of the night.

He tightened his grip on you, whispering “But I do mean it.”

You were shaking, and with a raw throat you told him the truth, “Not in the way I want you to.”

“In what way do you want me to mean it?” he asked, voice soft.

“In every way.”

He put his lips on your neck, “I do, in every way.”

For the first time in, what felt like years, you finally let go. You let go of all that pain you endured over the years, all of the confusion and agonizing fear you felt. Sobbing into the arms of the man that you have loved, long before you even knew what love truly meant.

And all he did, was hold you together, so you could fall apart, continuing to whisper these words in your ear.

[skznccmlee]

Mentally preparing for an almost assured panic attack tomorrow

At least it's Friday, that helps a lot

But it's my mom's birthday, so I don't know if I can go to piano...

Then that way, life is horrible again and I'm really reaching my limit

Everyone is so excited and happy, why am I so stupid and can't feel the same...?

[trashmouth-richie]

⁂ 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 + 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 || a mini series || eddie x you

“soul ties” based but with a spin — 1.2k PART 2

[reader and her lover are souls bound to one another for eons and eons, they always find their way back to one another no matter how long it takes or what bodies they might be in, but when reader feels the magnetic pull of her other half and wills the girl’s body she is in to find her lover— the body her lover belongs to is a boy— none other than the meanest boy in hawkins, eddie munson] 

trigger warnings: 18+ smut, bisexual! eddie, mean! eddie, shy! girl, smut. etc eddie and the body reader lives in are mostly referred to as “the girl” and “the boy”, they are both 18 in this story. 

reader (you) is a “soul” in this story, meaning you are only bound to the body you are inhabiting during this lifetime. The girl will have features mentioned— but again— you (the reader) are a soul, which i imagine to be a flame of all colors. 

Her soul knew his. 

Knew him before she’d even met him in this body. Knew him before her eyes caught his. A magnetic pull sought him out and there he was, and the two souls buzzed, destined to be together. 

As if every star had aligned, he found you, again.. 

You look different this time. His soul spoke. The body is shapely, but those eyes still burn through me like fire. 

My eyes only burn for you my love. You purred back, in this body, and the next and the one after that. 

Eons had come and gone and in each one you found each other. Sometimes it took longer than the last, having only minutes together instead of years. Other times you were reborn in the same city. But this time, your bodies were not friendly to one another. 

Your lover's body was tall, pale, human male species. A mop of wavy hair that he rarely seemed to comb. The body you lived in belonged to a human female species. But was more reserved than the boy, quieter… except when her conscience talked for her in her head, then she was funny. 

Judging by the years you had been here, you thought that possibly she was eighteen, and in those years you waited for him. 

A similar soul had reached out to you, pretending to be him. The body was handsome, fit, skin kissed by the sun. A wriggly mustache that tickled the girls lips.

This boy went by the name Billy, and he was kind to the girl at first. He bought her many gifts, and told her that he loved her. 

But where your lover smelled of soap and cedar, this soul smelled of rich smoke and his eyes were hurt and angry, unlike the kind ones you’d spent centuries finding in every different body imaginable. The soul was shielded behind a mask, pretending to be something he should be, not something he needed. 

The girl cried when he left, but you were proud of her, and you showed her in her dreams the happiness she would one day have, once she found him, your love. 

— 

He looked for you for years. But this body was not like any others he had been attached to before. This boy went by many names:

Edward

Eddie

Dungeon Master

Eddie the Banished

Mr. Munson

and The Freak.

Mostly just Eddie though. His elders did not care for him, and in his younger years he spent nights writing about his sadness, tears leaking onto his scrawled handwriting. 

A man of some relation to the boy came to care for him, and the boy became happy once again, slowly, he gained trust. 

The boy had many hobbies that were new and interesting to him. He plucked a warlock and screamed into a microphone. He threw dice and moved figurines into position he had carefully planned out months in advance. Music and fantasy seemed to be a large part of the boy’s life. But where oh where, were you?

It wouldn’t be the first time he found you in a body similar to his, the same species with the same anatomy. When another boy who played basketball, and was well liked started noticing the boy, his heart raced. 

Steve was his name. His soul was sweet, smelling of roses and perfume. But it was not you, and the boy couldn’t love Steve the way he had hoped he could. 

It was mutual. No stars aligned for this engagement, it was merely physical, no soul bonds to tie together. 

One day, something pulsed and hummed. And he knew, he knew you were close, even if the boy was still asleep at noon, he could feel it. The pull, the stroke of his lover's touch. 

It was the magnet. 

—

The girl volunteered to tutor a smaller child somewhere in a Forest. You were excited for the adventure, excited to see the old trees and smell the pines, feel the humidity on her skin. But sadly there wasn’t a forest, only a lot made of brown earth. Houses scattered about that all looked similar in one way or another. Animals ran around freely, residing in trash cans and front steps, and it made you giggle. 

Would your lover remember the time he was a cat and you were a very small human child? The elders did not understand why the child adored the orange animal so much, or how the cat kept finding its way into their home. A few good years your lover and you had… until a fire consumed the home and you were both left spinning in darkness before landing home in new bodies, millions of miles apart.

Something about this place sent you buzzing the minute she opened her car door. You nearly screamed when that familiar tug pulled and buzzed. 

It was him! 

He was so very close, you could practically sniff him out. 

You did as you had always done when your lover was near, you sent star fire up to the girl’s brain, redirecting her to where she needed to go, where she would be happiest, where your lover had been staying. 

The home was painted in shades of light blue, and the stubborn girl questioned whether or not this was the correct house. 

I’m here! I’ve found you!

The boy suddenly woke, an irritating ache in his head as he rubbed sleep sand from his eyes. Your lover pushed and pushed the boy but he could not be hurried even if a hot poker was pressed into his rear. 

The girl felt dumb, a pickling sour of fear rose in her throat and she coughed to rid herself of the ache in her belly. You were swimming, dancing in her chest, warming her heart that you knew held so much love and was capable of destiny. 

Her knuckles raised to the door but the girl wasn’t given a chance to knock. The boy pinched his eyebrows together at the sight of this girl on his doorstep. Your lover shined in his eyes, waving back and blowing kisses. 

But the boy was annoyed. 

“What do you want?”

The girl felt warmth in her cheeks as she looked at her sneakers, “I— Sorry.. I was looking for Max Mayfield, I’m—.” 

“When I took a piss this morning I was standing up.”

The girl stared back in confusion but the boy only rolled his eyes before he looked down and pulled his waistband out enough so only he could see. 

“Yep, not a chick. Mayfield’s live across the road, brown trailer.” The door snapped shut before the girl could thank the boy. He stumbled back to bed, his headache felt like fire, as if his mind was being sawed in half. 

You were devastated, crestfallen! He was right there! In your grasp! Why was the boy being so difficult? Couldn’t he feel it in his chest? Couldn’t he feel the pull? 

The girl wiped a tear from her face as her feet hit the gravel, she muttered about how much she hated him, how awful he had always been to her. 

This would probably be the most difficult reunion you’d ever had with your lover, but in the eons you’d been together you had never failed, and you wouldn’t allow this year of 1985 be the first. 

[sw33tsuccubus]

𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒸𝓎 𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈𝑜𝓃 boyfriend headcanons

you’re best friends who kiss

likes kissing your cheek. it’s just where his lips go. if he’s excited, like after winning capture the flag, he kisses your lips and then gets all flustered. it’s like the first time all over again. gives you these big bear hugs that make you warm. nuzzles his face into your hair during these.

has been jumpscared by a bee before. maybe he jumped into your arms and shrieked. just maybe.

it’s rare the two of you can cuddle. camp is always so busy. whenever you can, though, it’s always so sweet. sometimes you lay on your back and he drapes an arm and leg over you, his head on your shoulder with his breath lightly tickling your neck. sometimes his arms lazily wrap around you, face in your hair, legs tangled together. occasionally he’ll spoon you while you cuddle one of his plushies.

speaking of his plushies. he has a few, and they’re all sea creatures. a crab, a squid, a shark, a clownfish, a seahorse, a dolphin. he’ll be offended if you think they’re silly.

kind of embarrassing. will brag you’re the best at something even if you’ve never done it. has an ‘i ❤️ my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner’ shirt.

you guys have bracelets of each others’ color schemes. there’s a charm related to your godly parent on there. the one he gave you is blue, and it has a trident charm.

he paints his nails with you. more often than not they’re royal blue, but sometimes he paints them your favorite colors. he’d love to match you, smiling at your hands whenever your fingers are intertwined and he can see.

smells like the sea naturally. he uses cologne and scented shampoo, but you can only smell them if he’s pressed against you.

leaves clothes at your cabin just so you can wear them. gets so giddy if you do. denies any accusations that he does it on purpose. he makes sure it’s always his favorite clothes too, so it smells just that much more like him since he wears them more.

when you start talking, he zones out of everything in the room. partly because he’s hyperfocusing, but also because he chooses you over anything else. maybe he has heart eyes. just maybe.

he’s into pda, but he listens to your boundaries. in love with holding your hands. he’s be a little disappointed if you wouldn’t let him but he’d understand.

has tried impressing you by flexing. yeah, he’s muscular, but it was so funny. he’s talking with a friend, sees you, and immediately shows off. please don’t laugh, he’ll cry about it.

he’s dramatic. pouts and whines if you laugh at him for being childish. pouts and whines if you don’t laugh at one of his jokes. pouts and whines if you don’t hang out with him at least three times a day.

asks to spar with you. he’ll hold back to see what you’re capable of and then match as best as he can. if he cuts you, he’s apologizing and almost screaming. if you cut him, he’s laughing it off and telling you he’s okay. it’s fine if that’s not your thing, though; you can watch him :) at first, you think he’s being egotistical when he offers, trying to show off, but it’s kind of cool to watch. he’s like a gymnast, or a figure skater. his motions are just so fluid.

he likes to go swimming at least once a week to keep himself grounded. if you don’t want to come, he’ll collect you something from underwater. a pretty rock, a seashell, some random ocean treasure. he’d be ecstatic if you came with him, though. picking you up and twirling you in the water and splashing water at you.

does not shut up. he lays there and yaps about his day with his head on your lap and your hands playing with his hair. tells you about his favorite movies while walking with you around camp. he complains about any inconveniences with his cheek pressed to the top of your head, his arms wrapped around you.

that being said, he’s also a great listener. he sits there and nods along, smiling and adding small quips where needed. if you need advice, don’t ask him!! no matter how much you love him, he gives terrible advice. he’s quite reckless.

he’s protective. not overly so, but he is. he’s watching over you during training, he’s worrying if you ever go on a quest without him, he’s standing up to anyone at camp or at school who says something about you. if you got injured during the Battle of Manhattan or the fight against Gaea, he would be very worried and so so mad. he would put everything at risk for you.

he gets jealous sometimes and it’s funny, seeing him pout and reach for your hand. he’ll gently laugh at you and tell you how he feels about you if you ever feel jealous.

dating him is an experience.

he has some mood swings. he’s normally a happy, funny guy, but sometimes he gets sad thinking about his past and all the friends he’s lost. he gets frustrated and angry sometimes, when things don’t go his way or if things start piling up.

if he’s upset, he tries to avoid you so that he doesn’t snap at you. once he’s feeling better, he’ll come to you and hug you, which lead to cuddles. he doesn’t say much when this happens. either it’s silent, or you can talk to him and he’ll listen to each word.

he’s such a sweetheart. he’s always thinking about what you prefer and your interests and he’s always trying to be a gentleman for you, though his silliness makes it funny.

he’s all in all a caring and sweet boyfriend.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ tell me about love (show me how) | gojo satoru

wc: 7.4k

summary: you teach gojo how to love. 

contains: f!reader in mind but no pronouns mentioned, descriptions of blood (typical jjk canon type stuff), shibuya onwards manga spoilers, implied minor character death, there are swears, suggestive bit at the end (but it’s funny!), lots of internal thoughts/dialogues, kind of canon divergent

a/n: relates to my short blurb, do you believe in love?, explores a lot on how i think gojo would be when it comes to love; ambiguous but linear timeline (jumps through scenes)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 01. do you believe in love? <- you are here -> 2.5. and my body keeps saying (it's yours)

When Gojo has love for the taking, he makes no move to reach for it. 

It’s unusual for him to be so restrained, being born into greed and predetermined purpose—a one-man clan fated to hold power close to God. There exists a hunger within him, insatiable and stubborn, unstoppable until he gets what he wants. It’s all he’s ever known: to take and devour, simply because he can. 

Yet with this, he doesn’t. He can’t seem to. 

“I think I’ll always want to be with you, Satoru.” 

When you offer your heart to Gojo, he looks at you softly. 

You catch his eyes and see the sky, bright, with flecks of light floating on his irises like cotton clouds in its periphery. It’s different from the piercing blue you’re used to—a terrifying riptide that washes you away. 

It wasn’t intended as a confession, but Gojo always takes whatever you have to say. He commits it to memory each time; how could he not? Words that come from you flow so naturally, so earnestly that the air around you shifts all on its own.

His lips part slightly, red spatterings lining pink inner corners before they close again. He doesn’t say anything, but you know Gojo and the fingerprints of his soul—the way he bites his lips to withhold himself from speaking. 

It’s dangerous, he thinks, how you make wanting something so complicated seem so simple.

He takes a small breath, then you feel it, pressed against you—the faint signature of his cursed energy overlaying his entirety. It tickles your skin a little, the effects of it brushing. You don’t remember the last time he put it up around you.

A million things run through Gojo’s mind for every split second he breathes, but at this point in time, he counts a million and one—one thought that if he touches you by infinity instead of his hands, he can have this good thing for now, that this is the only way how. 

You’d think this a rejection, if any, but he doesn’t move away from you, and the blush blooming at the tips of his ears says more than he ever could. 

.

.

.

The subtle intimacy you share with Gojo grows sporadically, from knuckles brushing to pinkies touching. He stands next to you more often, a few inches closer than he used to and sometimes, still, with an infinity connecting you.

.

.

.

When you hold Gojo’s hand for the first time, he jolts very slightly, as if you’ve shocked him. He’s started to put his infinity down around you again, and you continue the limbo of whatever it is you both are—except this time, he’s made it clearer, just a little bit. 

During the last few leaves of fall, Gojo skips to an ice cream stand like a pre-schooler on early dismissal. You trail behind him slowly, shaking your head affectionately; he’s the only adult you know that still acts like he’s 5. 

“You’re like a horse.” you jest, stopping next to him in line.

“You’re a snail.” he huffs, side-eyeing you, like a child.

You gasp exaggeratingly, hitting his arm. He fake-winces, but that’s all it is; Gojo’s the strongest and you don’t know of any human touch that has managed to hurt him, except—

Yeah. Your eyes trail to the side of his neck, hidden in the shadows of his jawline; there’s really nothing, but sometimes you blink and see crimson, oozing, gushing, leaking—you shake away the thought.  

When he receives his ice cream cone stacked with vanilla-strawberry-vanilla and rainbow sprinkles on top, the smile on his face parallels the sun. He looks cozy, almost boyish, beaming against the autumn breeze blowing on his thick gray hoodie. 

You wonder if he feels just as warm.

(Maybe that’s why you do it, then).

Once Gojo turns to give you the cone, you reach for his other hand tentatively, shyly—your fingertips grazing his palm lightly. You want to give him an out if he can’t take this, but he doesn’t move. He twitches a little, as if he’s been caught off guard, but that’s it. 

His eyes widen briefly, just a bit, before turning into the same soft skies frequenting them lately. 

“Sorry, is this okay?” you whisper, peering up at him. 

He stares at you for a while, his hand in yours unmoving. You leave a sliver of space between your palms–your own version of his infinity–just in case. And he takes it all in: how tiny your hand is wrapped around his, how gently you speak—how warm he feels now amidst this autumn breeze. 

“The strawberry’s really good,” he finally replies, pressing the dessert closer to you, “try it.” 

You give him one last look before you indulge in his request. Gojo’s always been good at that: pushing and pulling—pushing you away with non-answers only to pull you back in with something else. 

But he doesn’t let go of your hand, so you keep yours there, palms nearly touching. (You make a point not to mention how the parts that do touch become clammy for the rest of the afternoon). 

.

.

.

You start to think that your relationship with Gojo is going somewhere, then he disappears (‘gets sealed’ might be the more proper term). 

His absence is deafening. You’ve all lost so much, and it hurts, but you carry on knowing full well that this is what being a jujutsu sorcerer means. There aren’t many left to fight his fight, so you do what you can to. You stay with Shoko, mostly, if not going back and forth with Utahime. You can’t afford to be crying when the students, the kids—you can’t even bear to think about what they’re going through.

Nights are the hardest, when the world is quiet but your mind is loud, throwing far too many questions you can’t find the answers to.

What will Gojo come back to? Then the scarier thought: Will he even come back? 

You don’t want to doubt him, ever, but your mind continues to play back that day, like a final memory. The unintentional confession; his eyes like the sky. 

You don’t want it to be the last important thing you tell him. 

“I should start looking into retirement plans, like Nanamin.” you raise an eyebrow, questioning. Gojo’s never spoken this far into the future before, most especially his. 

“Work is shit now for you too?” you scoff, leaning back on the wooden ledge. 

Gojo rolls his eyes, skipping the coverage of his blindfold today. 

“Well, after I remove the old geezers and change everything, there won’t be much left to do.” 

You hum in response. He does make a point. 

“Also, Megumi won’t need me anymore,” he pouts, whining, “who else will want me around?” 

You try to hold back your laugh, wanting so badly to tell him that Megumi doesn’t even really like him around to begin with—but you figure breaking Gojo’s heart isn’t really something you want to do if you value your peace. 

“I don’t know,” you reply, shifting your weight, “I think I’ll always want to be with you, Satoru.” 

Even now, especially now. You wish you were with him, too. 

.

.

.

The day you hear of Gojo’s potential return, you drop your breakfast outside the 7-Eleven near Jujutsu Tech. You’re supposed to meet up with Utahime for a weekly check-in but your feet take you to Shoko, and the footsteps in your heart have never echoed louder. 

This is the first good news in a while—especially after finding out about the state of Megumi and what happened to Tsumiki, your sweet girl Tsumiki. 

When Gojo comes back, it’s like he never left. He pops out of the box joking the same way, talking the same way. He proves himself to be the strongest all the same, and when he wins—there are scars, but he wins and that fact stays the same. 

So, when you reach for his hand now and he moves away, you’re stuck wondering what’s changed. 

.

.

.

You let it stay that way for a while, your understanding extending to Gojo the way it always has—you don’t push, and he gives you what he can. It honestly isn’t all that bad, because at least he’s still talking to you like he used to. 

Jujutsu society is still shaken from its core. You and all who have survived bear the task of building everything from the ground up; it’s exhausting, especially since most of you are still mourning. 

Megumi’s been put in an induced coma; you understand why but it still tugs at your heart when Shoko tells you it might take a while. Everyone else has been assigned to sweep through the rest of Japan to ensure that any remaining curses are taken care of. 

You see Yuuji and Yuuta visit Megumi sometimes, along with Maki and Toge when they’re free. Gojo’s there pretty often too, using healing sessions with Shoko as an excuse to see the boy he’s practically raised at 17, with you. 

But while Gojo’s smiles to everyone else remain as charming as ever, you can always tell when they’re untrue. 

.

“Are you okay?” 

You find Gojo a little after midnight on the rooftop of the faculty building. The city always looks pretty from up here—a sea of lights reflected up on the sky. It’s a running joke that rooftops are Gojo’s ‘thing’, but you know he really only comes to places like this to think. You wonder what’s on his mind now, coming here every single night since being unsealed. 

Despite how quiet you try to be, sneaking up on Gojo is almost impossible; he senses you before he hears you, sees the familiar traces of your cursed energy through his Six Eyes. 

“Can’t sleep thinking about me?” he teases, looking straight ahead.

The steps you take towards him are careful, afraid of running him off like you seem to be lately. You sit beside him, leaving a space larger than you usually do, then shrug, “These days, yeah.”

It’s times like this when Gojo forgets how honest you can be, how he takes your word for everything, completely. 

It’s threatening, he thinks, how you can say so much with so little. 

“Well, maybe I can suggest—” 

“Seriously, Satoru,” you grip the ledge tightly, knuckles turning white, “please.” 

You tend to let Gojo dodge your questions a lot of the time, his elusiveness a hallmark of who he is. So you never sound like you do now, serious, pleading. 

Gojo fiddles with his fingers, pondering. He hums lowly before speaking, “Does it matter?” 

It hurts you a little, how that’s even a question. He should know better than to ask that to you. 

“It matters to me, Satoru,” you sigh, “you know it does.”

You barely catch the way his brows furrow at your response, but there are creases on his blindfold that can’t be created by anything else. And Gojo knows—is so painfully aware of the way you care. 

Since coming back, he’s never felt like he’s fully returned. It’s an odd existence of in-between, like he breathes everything and nothing all at the same time. The emotions are even worse, overloading his senses with feelings he can never pinpoint. 

How does he tell you that he must be fucked in the head? That every second in his mind is another step closer to insanity? That he’s lost your tether on Satoru in pursuit of Gojo—of being a god? 

“I’ll tell you,” he starts, “but you have to look away.”

You’ve always treated Gojo tenderly, patiently, and he knows, without a doubt, that no matter what he says you will continue to do the same. But he can’t allow that, not anymore. Not after the way you looked at him that day.

“Okay,” you mutter, turning your head the other way. 

He breathes out and you can almost picture it: half-bitten lips and eyes like low tide. 

“I’m fine,” he says to the back of your head, “you have nothing to worry about.” 

A breeze picks up and brushes past your neck. It’s a lie. He knows it, knows you know it too, but—

it’s easier this way, he thinks, to give you answers when you’re not looking.

Gojo’s never found a weakness he can’t work around, but he might have just found one with you—in your eyes, that read through his every lie. If you turn around now, he’ll want to tell you everything.

“Satoru,” you whisper, letting his name fill the air. You get it—him, and even when you don’t, you try damn hard to because you refuse to let Gojo carry all of it on his own. 

There are crescent indents on your palm from squeezing your knuckles too hard. You think, is this how you form shallow cuts on your heart?

“It’s just me,” you continue, facing him when you say it. 

He takes you all in—your eyes that hold the city lights, your lips, the only vessel that handles his name so delicately. It’s that look on your face again and Gojo’s hit with an ache in his chest—the overwhelming truth that whatever it is, he feels the same. 

.

.

.

There’s a secret Gojo keeps, one he’s certain he’ll never tell you: that when he looks at you upon his return and finds an emotion he refuses to name, he’s never felt so afraid.  

He takes in the shadows under your eyes and the sunkenness of your cheeks—the number of blinks it takes you to reign in tears on the brink of leaking. The way your voice shakes when you say his name.

Shoko tells him about it because she knows you never will—about how you’ve been running yourself dry, speeding through colonies to gather intel for any possible way to break the seal. She tells him about the sleepless nights, how she catches you standing outside his office at 3 a.m. before travelling to Utahime the next morning. 

And he cannot comprehend it at first, cannot understand how he’s caused you to crumble this way. 

If this is all because of him, how you’ve broken yourself all for his sake, he can’t allow it. To see you ruin yourself over him, over anyone ever—you deserve better.

So, when Gojo has love for the taking, he makes no move to reach for it; he cannot possibly take any more from you if this is what is left of you when he does. 

.

.

.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you catch him by the door of the conference room. 

Rebuilding an entire society requires work and apparently a lot of meetings. Gojo doesn’t usually go to most of them, leaving you and Utahime to carry the chunk of his attendance when he’s not there. In the rare times that he does show up, he makes it a point to be the last one in and the first one out. Utahime hates him for it but you don’t blame him—he isn’t exactly amicable with other figures of authority.

He pauses when he steps out of the door, hands in pockets as he turns to face you. 

You’re not mad or anything, just stating the fact. He’s always known you to speak this way. You lean against the wall next to you, keeping your arms crossed. More people continue to file out of the conference room, some eyeing the two of you curiously as they pass by.

Gojo glances at them, suddenly self-conscious as he clears his throat, “Right, I’ve been avoiding the paperwork you left in my office,” he emphasizes, practically announcing it to everyone in the vicinity, “let’s finish it now.” 

You don’t know whether it’s irritating that Gojo’s so terribly bad at acting, or comforting that he still can’t, for the life of him, successfully lie in front of you. 

He motions for you to follow him as he strolls down the hallway, but you intentionally lag a few steps behind, careful not to encroach on his space lest it make him avoid you any more than he already is.

Stepping into Gojo’s office after so long feels weird, like you belong here but only to a memory of it—as if closing the door behind you feels like activating a muscle you haven’t for a while. It’s been months after all. 

Your eyes skim over the entire room, zeroing in on the stacks of paper lined up on his desk; paperwork has always been Gojo’s least favorite part of the job, often leaving you to do them with him (or alone, when you’re feeling generous). Not much has changed in his space; the mini living area still exists to the left of the room, with little bits of you in its interiors—the pillows, the coffee table books. 

Gojo plops down on the sofa chair and props his feet up on the ottoman, giving four scrolls to his phone before pocketing it. He has the audacity to casually offer you the seat across from him, as if nothing’s wrong—as if he hasn’t been avoiding you for god’s sake. 

Ever since the rooftop, he’s canceled lunch with you six times for reasons that you’re now realizing are less likely to be true. He’s kept a distance of at least one person in between you at all times, and to this day, you still don’t understand why. 

You sigh, taking a seat and leaning back to cross your legs. 

“You’re so bad at acting.” you start.

Being with Gojo for so long, you’ve come to realize that there’s no point being angry with him when your heart can never take it. 

“I technically wasn’t lying.” he replies, sticking his index finger up. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” you snicker, nodding to his desk. 

It’s always like this with Gojo: he pulls you in and you follow. No matter the distance between you, when you sit down together like this, it still always flows so easily. The banter you’ve built together over a decade and more shines through no matter what state your relationship is in. 

Neither of you say anything until Gojo replaces his blindfold for his sunglasses, placing the piece of cloth on the coffee table. 

You break the silence. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you ask quietly. Gojo aches at that, how you still choose to regard him so kindly. 

Why has he been avoiding you? It’s a good question, completely valid with how he’s been treating you lately, but he could draw up every answer he has, all one million and one, and still not know what to say.

Gojo’s a pretty bad communicator; for how much he talks, he doesn’t really say much—and maybe that’s the root of all this. There are too many things he wants to say but can’t formulate in the right way. 

“If it’s something I did, can you at least let me know?” you continue. Gojo frowns, how can you be wronged yet still think of yourself as the one to blame? 

“Why do you do that?” he tuts, head tilting sideways as his hands dig deeper into his pockets. 

“Do what?” you furrow your brows, confused. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t worry about it.” he says dismissively. 

You arch an eyebrow; he has it all mistaken. 

“Satoru, I’m not worried because I feel guilty,” you sit up, inching towards the edge of your seat, “I’m worried because you’re pushing me away.” your voice is level, but your pupils shake.

Something grips at his chest seeing you this way; together or apart, he seems to be the main contributor to your heartache. 

You wonder if confronting him like this is any good if he’s not going to say anything anyway. 

“If you want space, that’s okay, I get it, but,” you exhale, “at least just tell me why.” 

This entire time avoiding you, Gojo’s had you on his mind—the million and one. He’s come to terms with what he feels when you’re together, and how it amplifies when you’re not. 

It’s shitty of him to practically ghost you, not just in text but in real life too. But he’s thought about it logically, really, that removing himself from your life should be just like ripping off a bandaid—painful but quick. At least that way, you’d get over it fast. 

He’d been resigned to doing that and that was the plan—until now. 

All it takes is seeing that look in your eyes, and his resolve falls apart. 

“I can’t.” he speaks softly. 

What hurts the most is that beneath his sunglasses, his eyes still hold the sky. 

You think you want to cry. 

You take this as your answer and close your eyes, taking a deep breath before getting up to leave. If this is goodbye, you don’t want your last interaction to be an awkward memory of him watching you bawl in his office chair. 

You push yourself up with the armrest only to sit back down—because Gojo is right in front of you, blocking your way. His infinity is up but touching, a tingling sensation sweeping across your knees. 

“Wait,” he swallows, a franticness you’ve never seen before. His head stays down as he bites his lips, sunglasses hanging by his fingertips. You wonder what he wants to say, that even if it comes out messy, it’s okay. You want to tell him that it’s just you—that you’ll always want to hear it all anyway. 

What comes next is unlike any version of Satoru you have ever known—nervous and uncertain, almost like he’s afraid. He lowers himself, slowly coming down to his knees in front of you. A giant of a man so small in your presence. 

“I don’t know how.” he mutters, dropping his sunglasses to the floor. 

You blink once, twice, still surprised by what’s in front of you. Gojo has always towered above you, has always known how to do anything and everything so effortlessly without fail. 

Watching him now, with every inhale and exhale dragging in slow motion, you do your best not to startle him. 

“How to what?” you whisper, the moment so fragile. 

He looks up, eyes locking with yours. A reaction happens in that moment—the split second of all his thoughts collapsing into one. You see a clear sky, blue and bright as day, the Satoru he saves for you—while he sees you, with that look on your face, the one that he knows has always only meant love. 

The sincerity in your gaze overwhelms him—makes him look away before it becomes too much. Red blooms at the tips of his ears as he bites the inner corners of his lips, fingers grabbing at the fabric of his pants. You’re afraid he might run away again, but he doesn’t and stays right where you are. 

“You know…” he looks to the side, pouting, “whatever you do….”

“Like…?” you coax lightly, trying hard to hide the small smile forming on your lips. 

You wonder how many versions of Satoru you’ll meet in your lifetime, and if this one, shy and nervous, will be one you’ll fit into the crevices of your heart just like all the others. 

He grips his pants tighter, fabric bunching under his fingers, “When you hold my hand… those things. You get it.” 

And you do (get it), so you don’t push, taking whatever Gojo has to give you like you always have. 

The tension relieves from you slowly, comforted by the fact that at least he’s given you his reasons now (no matter how vague they still seem to be). That at least there are no non-answers this time. 

You tell yourself that it’s okay, that you’re content as long as Gojo’s in your life even without the possibility of becoming something more. 

“Ok—”

But there’s always one thing you forget about Gojo—

“So show me how.”

—in the moments you least expect it, he speaks the words that matter most. 

.

.

.

You choose to show him slowly, gently, like the trickling introduction of water to a man who is first learning how to drink. 

In the first few weeks of you and Gojo readjusting to one another, he turns on his infinity again—but only when he gets close enough to touch you. Lunches together happen more often, dinners sometimes too. Then he puts his infinity down, indefinitely. 

For the most part, your relationship falls into the usual steps of your dynamic with Gojo; there’s no pressure for anything and he likes that, appreciates the time you’re giving him to learn things at his own pace. 

It grows organically that way: knuckles brushing as you both reach for the stapler, pinkies touching whenever you walk side-by-side during site visits—until you’re able to hold his hand fully again, leaving that little infinity between your palms for him to close (hopefully, one day). 

.

.

.

The faculty room is cold, especially during winter. The heating system is never warm enough to keep your hands from shaking whenever you mix your morning coffee. 

“So loud so early,” Gojo saunters into the kitchen, hands in pockets as he approaches the pantry. 

You stop mixing, ceasing the clinking of the spoon against your mug. “How are you not freezing?” 

He shrugs, grabbing his box of (heavily sugared) cereal. “I guess I’m just hot.” he says, turning to wiggle his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes and set your coffee on the table, Gojo following with a bowl brimming with cereal and milk. 

Mornings usually consist of you and Gojo, with an occasional new hire who has an early class that day. Most of the time, it’s just you two though, with Shoko coming in much closer to lunch time already. 

“Want some?” he asks, holding out his spoon.

It’s routine—Gojo asks and you decline, choosing to save yourself from the cavities that he somehow manages to evade despite having a diet of 80% sugar. 

Today though, you’re feeling a little adventurous. 

You nod, opening your mouth. Gojo’s eyes widen, nearly dropping the spoon at your request. You see the flush of his cheeks and smile, corners of your mouth extending wider. The spoon is shoved to your mouth too quickly, almost like he’s embarrassed to feed you. 

“Too sweet,” you scrunch your face, swallowing down the copious amount of sugar you’ll feel for days. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Gojo throughout this whole relationship trial period, he recovers from any state within a nanosecond. There’s no end to how shameless he can be. 

“Like me, right?” he winks.

“Sure,” you drawl sarcastically and Gojo smiles like it’s high praise. 

You sip your coffee slowly, revelling in the heat that flows down your throat.

“Can I have half of that?” you point to his bowl. Gojo looks at you, confused, but slides it over anyway.

What happens next is an abomination to Gojo’s eyes—pure absolute disgust: you pour half of his cereal into your coffee and mix, sipping and crunching on a few pieces every now and then. 

His face contorts into complete distaste, horror and revulsion in the way his mouth hangs open. 

“What are you doing? That’s gross!” he nearly yells, reaching over to bring your mug down. His hand covers yours for a moment, the contact still causing gallops in his heartbeat. 

You laugh, giggling as he processes what you’d wasted his cereal on. It honestly doesn’t taste that bad, you think. 

“You’re weird,” he says to you, the grin on his face uncontained. This morning, he feels fond, like the butterflies in his stomach are warm, tickling him from the inside. “Give me.” he motions to your mug. 

You hold it up for him to take a sip but he keeps his hand over yours when he tastes, sticking his tongue out once the bitterness of your coffee hits. You set the mug down, preparing to reach for your spoon, but he takes your hand in his, long fingers slotting right between yours, interlacing. 

Gojo doesn’t normally reach for your hand, much less interlace them together (a recent evolution to your hand-holding), but this feels nice, how your fingers fit right in the spaces of his. 

You turn to him, a shy smile on your face. The tips of his ears are blush red but he looks at you the same, “Your hands were cold,” he pouts, “is this– is this okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s warm. Thank you, Satoru.” you nod, beaming. And it’s not a competition but he hopes you see the light in his eyes, how it feels to be ignited within him only when he’s spending breakfasts like this with you. 

.

.

.

Shoko asks what you are and you don’t know what to tell her other than you’re happy and it’s good. Gojo’s existence is loud and vibrant, easy to spot from miles away—but he cares for you discreetly, in the hand that gently rests on your lower back while crossing the street, and the seemingly unlimited supply of your favorite coffee when you have no recollection of restocking it ever. 

He gives you a new mug for Christmas, one with little cereals painted all over while you give him his own tube of hand cream that he claims always smells like you. 

During the faculty New Year celebration, you overhear one of the new hires make a move on Gojo. You aren’t bothered by it or anything, simply walking past to sip your sake by the couch. You can hear them talk a bit from the kitchen, but you try not to pry despite how curious you are about his response. 

Until—

“I’m taken,” you hear Gojo say bluntly. 

Everything rings in your ears after that. The countdown music is loud, but your heart beats louder; there are murmurs and footsteps around you, but only one man crouches down to check on you, glass of water in hand. 

You snap out of it and see blue, the sky—a familiar light; you don’t think you can control the smile on your face, the alcohol lowering your inhibitions to paint on something lovesick. 

And when he smiles back, pink lips stretching wide—oh your heart can’t take it. He places one hand on your knee, rubbing gently. You hear it faintly, how he asks if you’re okay, but all you can do is nod, words failing to express how you feel right now.  

The countdown starts. 3 — and you take his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks to an image of him on your phone from many, many years ago. 2 — you go closer and his eyes go wide, a mixture of panic and surprise, but soft at the same time. 1 — you lean in and his eyelids fall shut, his chest on rampage. Then it lands, there, on the tip of his nose: a delicate peck and the smell of sake mixed with mint (like the lip balm you always carry around in your pocket). 

When you pull away from him, you’re smiling the biggest he’s ever seen, and he can’t feel it from how numb his cheeks have become, but he’s doing the same. 

.

.

.

That kiss to his nose serves as the catalyst to the months that follow: Gojo becomes more comfortable touching you now, and though he blushes every single time, there’s nothing to be ashamed of because you do too. Shoko can’t believe the slow burn this is taking you both, having watched this on the sides since you were both 22, but you think you like it—like the slow drizzle of honey on Gojo’s favorite breakfast waffles. 

“How is it?” you ask, watching as Gojo takes a big bite. 

“D Beft.” he replies, mouth full as he chews. You take the seat beside him and take a spoonful. 

“There’s a secret ingredient.” you say mischievously, wiggling your eyebrows. 

He swallows before he scoffs, “What?” cutting up another piece, “Love?” 

You’re surprised because he says it so casually, and Gojo’s never talked about love, has never even mentioned the word since this shift in your relationship. He realizes a beat late by the expression on your face and gets flustered, thinking immediately of ways to brush past it. 

You had meant to say that you used that infused sugar he buys whenever he goes to Kyoto, but… you suppose love works too. He should know by now, right? 

“If it is?” you whisper, pretending to stir your coffee. 

Gojo doesn’t know how to approach this, really, but he’s come too far to back out now. He clears his throat, mentally running through what he wants to say, then, “Good. ‘Cause that’s what I put in your coffee too.” 

You laugh and the tension dissipates; there are hearts in your eyes for how hard Gojo has tried after denying himself of this for so long. 

He stares at you—at the laugh lines by your eyes and the soft curves of your lips, the moment moving much too slow, stop motion in his mind. He’s drawn in until you’re all too close, a few centimeters from your noses touching. 

Your laughter dies and your cheeks feel like they’re on fire; he’s so close you think he might kiss you. The signs are there—his eyes scaling your face to focus on your lips, his tongue peeping ever so slightly to wet his lips. 

So you wait. 

But he doesn’t, because he moves away after wiping his thumb on the side of your mouth. Even though you know there was nothing there. 

Gojo continues to eat, blabbering about a site visit he’s assigned to next week, but you don’t miss the way his ears are fully red and how he’s biting his lips to death.

.

The tension this time is different; instead of a growing rift, you can’t seem to be close enough. Every time you part ways, he lets go of your hand more reluctantly—as if he wants to say more, do more, but stops himself while he still can. 

When he leaves for missions, you kiss his cheek, pull him in by the hand and linger there, shyly. He gets embarrassingly red but tries to cover it up by telling you not to miss him too much (even though you know you will, and he knows he’ll miss you more). 

Your near-kisses with Gojo happen more frequently, and it comes to a point where he even manages to land one on your forehead, while you fall asleep next to him on his office couch. 

It’s driving you crazy, this tension—the mixed signals of it all. You try to kiss him a few times on the lips, but he evades them each time. You’ve caught Gojo staring at your lips more times than you can count; if that isn’t a sign, you don’t know what is. 

Now that Gojo thinks about it, he’s come so far yet the prospect of kissing you properly still scares him. What if he fucks up? Doesn’t do it right? What if it’s not how he wants you to be kissed? 

There’s that secret Gojo will never tell you, of how seeing that look on you has never gotten him more afraid. And he’s worked through that now, but it’s evolved into something else: how Gojo is now afraid of love, more than anything else, not because of loss but because he might not know how. 

And kissing you, loving you this way—he’s never done it before, doesn’t know how to make you feel love without his lips shaking and heart palpitating; how to do it while letting you know he feels the same. 

.

It happens during an assignment out of town. Curses aren’t as bad as they used to be, but they’re still stronger than what any of the available sorcerers right now can handle. 

You don’t remember the last time you saw Gojo use his technique that way—almost forgotten how powerful and ruthless he can be. Every time since, holding your hand, keeping you close—he’s just been your Satoru. 

Your apartment for the weekend is a two-bedroom unit with one bathroom and a decently sized living area and kitchenette; Gojo always chooses the room in front of the bathroom because he tends to wake up in the middle of the night to pee (information you know from your many other assignments with him before). Still, going as what you are now—it feels different. 

There’s a charged air between you as you move around the unit; you make your nightly tea while Gojo looks through the groceries for some crackers. It’s peaceful and quiet—domestic almost, but there are goosebumps on your skin for reasons you can’t explain. Being around Gojo lately has felt that way.

He brushes past you to throw the finished packet of crackers and the feeling intensifies; it’s not awkward, just tense, like anticipation sitting deep in your bellies, waiting on each other to make the first move. 

He announces that he’ll use the bathroom first, if you don’t mind, and you motion for him to go ahead. Your mind is fuzzy and having Gojo around seems to only make it worse.

When you walk past the bathroom and straight to your room, you hear Gojo humming that soft pop tune from a popular girl group on the radio earlier. You giggle, thinking it’s sweet—how he sings obnoxiously around everyone else but is admittedly pretty good when it’s just him, alone. 

You still have the rest of the weekend in this area, having agreed to monitor the site and any nearby locations for other suspicious activity, but at least the worst of it is over (maybe just to you though; Gojo hates paperwork). 

The sound of running water stops and you hear the bathroom door swing open. You don’t see Gojo when you exit your room but he leaves the door open to release any remaining steam.

There’s a reason why people say showers are good for the mind. You’re happy for those who’ve found it, but that couldn’t be you, because the only thought plaguing your head right now is Gojo—and whether you should greet him goodnight, if you should kiss his cheek or hug him tight. The tension between you now is palpable, an electric current waiting to zap on both ends. 

Your mind is so out of it that you don't realize you’re missing your skincare bag until after you finish brushing your teeth and dressing for bed. You open the bathroom door with the sole intention of going back to your room to get it, but instead, you’re met with a wall of chest.

Gojo’s eyes are wide, bright blue with damp strands of white falling like curtains barely shielding the sky. He’s just as surprised as you are, toothbrush in his hand as you hold up the towel wrapped around your head. 

You’ve seen Gojo in his pajamas many times before—white long sleeves with gray cotton pants, but your eyes trail to his collarbones and the way the bathroom lights cast it under a soft glow. The redness on his cheeks, a visual manifestation of the heat on yours. 

Gojo can’t stop staring at your lips, at how soft they look—at how soft you look fresh out of the shower. The little baby hairs sticking out under your towel are cute, and he leans in without knowing—a pull he can’t seem to resist. For once in his life, Gojo’s mind is still. 

You try to meet him halfway, tiptoeing, but you’re a little out of your element; you don’t know where to put your hands and your heart’s about to explode out of your chest. When your noses touch, you can’t breathe, closing your eyes while you wait for it. 

But it doesn’t come. 

You feel Gojo’s breath stilling before speeding up into little exhales. Something is wrong. You open your eyes and find him staring back at you, a version of Gojo you haven’t seen in a while—that you rarely see ever, except that day during your confrontation in his office. 

Concern laces your features and you move back a little, hands coming up to caress his cheeks. His eyes still look frantic, but they focus on you when you cup his face so gently. 

“Satoru,” you whisper, voice grounding. His breaths slow down a little. 

You realize that it must be true then, what they say, that those who love to be feared, fear to be loved, because you’ve never seen anyone afraid of something so good as Gojo is of this. 

“Satoru,” you repeat, massaging his temples with your thumb, “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

Gojo hates it, how you’ve always had to adjust for him. He hates that he can’t give you this one thing, hates that you’re still so patient, that he’s still so afraid. He swallows, closing his eyes tight before opening them again. 

“I want to,” he chokes out, “I just don’t know—”

You chuckle, without judgment, “I don’t either,” you lean forward, foreheads touching, “but do you want to try together?”

You learn that Gojo sees himself so differently from how you do—and maybe that’s everyone, but Gojo tends to say things while doing the other. He says he can’t bother with kids, but continues to take so many of them under his wing anyway; he calls your cereal concoction disgusting but tastes it regardless; and he says he can’t think about love, doesn’t know how, but proceeds to try so much harder, everyday. 

When you look at Gojo, you see a heart so big, so capable, that he can’t see it himself. 

You nudge his nose with yours and he breathes deeply, closing his eyes once again. If he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does? 

Gojo hums before nodding his head slightly. His hands come up to cover yours, toothbrush wedged in the spaces between his fingers; they’re clammy, he’s sure, but he’s kept you waiting long enough. 

When you kiss Gojo for the first time, everything trembles—his pupils, his lips, the breath he takes. It’s all shaky and nervous, but your lips touch and all you know is that you like it there. He’s a little bit stiff but you don’t mind, pressing closer just for a little bit before pulling away. 

Gojo keeps your hands in place, half-lidded eyes staring at you lazily. His ears are fully red now but he’s giving you a look you’ve never seen before—like lightning crackling in the gaps between his eyelids. 

When you kiss Gojo for the first time, you don’t expect it to be by the bathroom door of a rented apartment, while away on a mission. You don’t expect it to be in your pajamas, towel wrapped around your hair as you’re getting ready for bed. You definitely don’t expect him to guide your hands down his neck while he places his on your lower back, squeezing lightly before pulling you in to kiss you again. 

This time, his lips move more pliantly, parting yours slightly; he tastes mint, mixed with the strawberry candy he had earlier and it’s nothing he could have ever imagined before, but is now everything he’s ever wanted. The push and pull between you is magnetic, soft lips and the intermingling of held breaths. All Gojo can think of now is to take, to devour—to keep you with him, like this, always. 

You wonder if Gojo is lying—that he’s never done this before, because you don’t think you can kiss anyone after this and not think of his lips on yours. 

By the time you part, the air is significantly warmer. Your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck and you smile, sighing. Gojo looks warm, with his swollen lips and flushed cheeks. 

“That…” you trail off, nudging his nose. 

Gojo looks at you fondly; to ever even think he could have this now, with you—he doesn’t believe in any higher being but you must be his prayer come true. 

“We can practice a bit more, I think.” he pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips. 

You feel it against you, something solid and firm against your stomach and your eyes go wide at the realization; Gojo does the same. 

“Satoru, you–” he moves back and freezes, untangling himself from you completely. There’s a faint outline on the crotch of his pants and your whole face goes red. 

“Let me use the bathroom real quick.” he panics, rushing past you and closing the bathroom door. 

You stand there stunned for a good minute before you shake out of it, laughing. Gojo yells about how you’re being so mean, making fun of him when he’s like this, but you aren’t—not really. 

It’s been a long time getting to this point with Gojo, but considering all things, you think, this might just be the beginning.

thank you notes: i would also like to shoutout @stellamancer for leaving such lovely comments on dybil that it actually kinda pushed me to write this longer piece connected to it!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[thehigherseekerastro]

Random Astrology Observations (Alternative Meanings Love Edition) 2 🤨❤️🤔

DISCLAIMER: I am in no way, shape or form a professional astrologer, modern or traditional.

I HAVE been studying astrology for a while now, and analysing charts available to me, as well as my own, and noticed a lot of the info you find online doesn't make sense in real life, because it is too reductive, stereotypical or lacks broader context. So I thought I'd share some of my personal observations to see if it resonates with anyone.

This is NOT the end all, be all. Apply it as it makes sense to you.

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The 1st House 🙋‍♂️

The 1H in synastry is a tricky one, because the first house itself is related to our individual identity. It is the house of self. So, when it comes to having a love planet here, things can get really murky. You'll often hear that it indicates instant attraction, but also only surface-level. While that is not entirely wrong, it would be a disservice to reduce it to just that. Yes, first house ties back to your physical appearance and external impact. But what does that mean for someone else being impacted and impacting that? Does it even apply in synastry? The answer is: YES. And it goes much deeper than you'd think. It will talk about an immediate recognition. It talks of being mesmerized by someone's look and demeanor, but that comes accompanied with an obsessive need to know more about you, to be around you, to soak up as much of you as possible, as if to aggressively learn you. And that's because you will tickle all the boxes the person had been holding inside (and vice-versa).

(e.g.: having someone's planet(s) fall into your 1st house doesn't just mean they will be attracted to you, if it's romantic. It also means the person feels like you two share a vibe, share interests, ideas. It means they feel like you move according to their speed, and therefore, that could lead to a lot of trust and comfort on their part, because you feel like a safe place. Not in the same sense as the 4H, but in a more "this person will have my back, cause we're the same!" kind of way. It makes the person feel like you are enough, because you fit them. So even if everyone else disagrees with them or doesn't understand them, they'll sort of look over at you, and if you validate them, that will be enough for them. They'd rather have your approval – since you are someone who gets them – than to have the approval of a bunch of people who don't understand where they are coming from.)

It truly is a beautiful thing, but even positive planets with positive aspects can lead to unwanted side-effects. The house person could come to resent the planet person because of how much they like them. Depending on who the house person is – if they have a dominant or prideful personality, for example – they may come to resent and even become angry with the planet person at times, because they'll feel so strongly for the planet person that they could start acting out of character for them, and that can make them feel like they're losing control of themselves. And as human beings, what do we do when we feel out of control? Shift blame and start looking for culprits. This DOES tend to wear off, though, exactly because of how intensely the house person feels for the planet person, but it can burn hot for a minute or two, specially if they end up getting into an ugly fight and the 1H person tries to forget the planet person, but they can't bring themselves to hate them. They'll get angry at the fact that no matter how hard they try to hate the person, they still feel enchanted by them.

(this could also create an unwanted feeling of "nobody else is like them", so the 1H could panic a bit at the thought of losing the planet person because 1H synastry creates the immediate feeling of the "perfect person for me", so imagine thinking you found the perfect person for you... it can make you feel like if you lose them you'll never recover, because no one else will be like them or able to replace them as perfectly)

All in all, though, first house Synastry tends to usually show up good results, depending on the planets and aspects involved. Another aspect of this synastry that doesn't get talked about for some reason is the fact that they tend to obsess over and notice the tiny details in each other. So it creates this effect of falling for them over and over and over again, cause they'll keep finding little things about the other person that they find enchanting, and THAT'S what creates the physical attraction. It's not that the planet or house person are conventionally attractive to everyone – they might not even fit the beauty standards –, but to the house person, those little details will sort of build up the planet person's beauty step by step, and by the time they catch on, they'll be enamored with every part of them, so, to the house person, the planet person truly is the most beautiful thing ever.

(1H house synastry also brings a 1st house energy to the attraction. NO - NOT ARIES. First house. But it will sound like arian qualities because Aries does rule the first house, after all. What this means is that a big part of the attraction for the 1H person is feeling like the planet person is independent, self-sufficient, confident, self-assured and capable. Because it's taping into their 1st house of self, the house person can sort of see the best of themselves reflected on the planet person, which means they feel like all the things they are insecure to show the world, the planet person has and is not afraid to show them. So they feel like planet person not only embodies their attraction ideal, but also the ideal personality they wish they had themselves. Which they do, but they don't realize it until planet person comes along and brings it out of them.)

First house Synastry is a complex kind of Synastry that is much more psychological than it's given credit for. People often focus on superficial physical attraction and gloss over the fact that it's like somebody is literally stepping into your mind and making your inner fantasies come out. It can feel very vulnerable and intense.

The 7th House 💍

Oh, isn't this one a gem?! Perhaps one of the most sought after in synastry. But the idea here is to provide an alternative perspective, so here goes: if it's badly aspected, or there's other challenging factors involved (the person falling into your 7H is problematic themselves), you're gonna run into the issues people often attribute to 1st house synastry, such as superficiality and a "false love" because 7H Synastry, regardless if it's good or bad, creates somebody who's "perfect on paper". They say the right things, they do the right things, they seem to fit into your whole ideals. But that does not guarantee that that's who they truly are. That's just who you think they are. Remember – the 7H is the house of "other". So it's not about you. It's about the other. But it's rather how you act around said other, and also how you perceive them.

(It's tough to say this, but you gotta be real to help some people out there who might have had 7H Synastry and didn't understand why the relationship failed, since everyone online claims it's a guaranteed soulmate. It's because Synastry goes both ways. And all houses have good and bad. There is no such thing as the perfect Synastry. But in the case of the 7H, I'd say it's the real life case of "if it's good, then it will be amazing. Truly a soulmate. But if it's bad... it will be awful. Just not immediately.)

Going off of the previous comment, another grim way this Synastry can turn out is in its binding effect. And I don't mean anything spiritual or abstract here. I mean literally binding. Imagine a relationship going sideways like that AND you are also now married or share a business together. MESS! This is the house of contracts and long-term. Remember Saturn exalts in Libra, because Libra likes things that last, and Saturn is the planet of long-term, so the house of Libra will sprinkle that lasting effect over whatever it touches. And if you're in a 7H relationship, that relationship will last with you, whether good or bad. It will take A WHILE to break off from it, either mentally, emotionally, psychologically, legally or financially.

(e.g. somebody has their moon in your 7H, but it's a moon at fall, in Scorpio, and it's afflicted in their natal chart. Now, at the beginning they will seem like a gift from God directly to you, so much so that you decide to make it official... And then, one or two years in, living together, each day it gets more toxic and draining and the dark sides just oozes out of your relationship. But now you are legally married, and divorcing will take time, bureaucracy, money and emotional energy, not to mention you'll have to uproot your entire life, explain it to your social circles and families... And what seemed like your dream come true was in fact a bitter lesson to learn).

To veer away from the dark twists of the last ones, let's dissect the correlations people make with the 7th house, like "oh, your spouse will be interested in art, and beauty, and music, and sophisticated things!" Why? Are you marrying a Libra? A Libra rising? Somebody with a Libra Venus? No? Then that has nothing to do with 7H Synastry. Houses are not signs, signs are not houses. Libra is one thing, the 7H is another. Venus rules Libra, which resides in the 7H, but Venus doesn't rule the 7H. It merely influences the 7H. It would be a better guess to say you might have met your person while they (or you) were already in a relationship than it is to say you met because of beauty-related things, or art, or music, since the 7H doesn't talk of any of those things, but it DOES talk of committed relationships.

(e.g. you might have met the person right after they (or you) got divorced. They might be connected to an ex of yours. Or another possibility that isn't talked about is how the person you eventually end up with is someone you have liked for a long time, but never got the chance to be with until now. Since this is the house of long-term relationships, having placements here could indicate that the person you ultimately stay with long-term is someone you already knew prior to getting together, but you needed to experience other relationships before you united with them.)

Another final aspect of placements in this house is the fact that it doesn't just deal with your love relationships, but also the way you consciously present yourself with others. How you behave socially. But also the mirror effect of this house, speaking directly about love. This is, after all, the house directly opposing the 1st house of self. In that regard, this is similar to 1H synastry, with the exception that in this one, instead of you coming out of your shell subconsciously, you make a conscious effort to become your best for your person here. You want to live up to all of your potential.

The 2nd House 💆‍♂️

This one is a bit tricky for me, because I'm not materialistic AT ALL. I have a Taurus Lilith in the 2nd house, so, I express it on the other end of the spectrum. When you have that placement, you either put too much value on money and material things, or you are completely unattached from it, and that's me. So the whole "money this, money that!" vibe is not my scene. I don't see a price in life, I see value. With that said, let's get this going.

Yes, this is the house of money and material things. Yes, it will deal with your personal finances. But no, unless other parts of your chart/Synastry agree with it, somebody's placements falling here should not have a lasting effect. It might merely indicate you overspending on dates and gifts. The 2H is the house of YOUR money, which means that the whole "oh, they're gonna shower you in gifts!", "And this is a sugar baby aspect!", "Your person will want to spend all their money on you and buy you expensive things!" is probably not gonna happen, sorry. If it does, it will be you spending your money.

(And if you do spend your money, the whole "gifts" thing is also not that common, because normal people don't just go around buying gifts for others every other day of the week, unless they have some sort of imbalance. Such a consumerist mindset! Not everything is about paying for things or buying things. That's a VERY American culture of dating, specially for women. This nasty idea that a man has to buy you or he's not good. Which is what encourages habits like thinking the man always has to be covering your finances (how old are you, 5? Get a job and pay for your own damn self! You are an adult woman), paying for your food, buying you a house, giving you gifts all the time and affording expensive dates. You are not a product. If your biggest incentive to be with a man is because of how much he pays for you, then that's the world's oldest profession, not a relationship of love. So this should play out more like them helping you manage your own finances. Don't go around thinking a 2H love placement is gonna turn you into Cinderella.)

If you do happen to be a stay-at-home person in your relationship, which is valid, as long as it's not all about money, 2H love placements and synastry will talk more about other material aspects of things. It will talk of stability, sustainability, longevity and security.

(e.g.: it could mean that you allocate your resources towards creating a safe, stable environment for your life together to flourish, such as buying things for your home together, revising your finances to make life goals and plans together more viable, setting budgets to achieve milestones together... as well as the literal physical aspects of valuables, so using your resources towards nourishment (food, shelter, clothing and health). Things that will ensure your relationship lasts and endures through hardships and tribulations. In the 2H of values, Synastry could indicate the relationship itself becoming your prized possession that you take care of. All the Earth houses are about caring for things, just in different ways.)

Another poorly explored aspect of the 2H is values in the moral, spiritual and emotional sense. It's WORTH. Both the causes you find worthy as well as your self-worth. A 2H love placement or Synastry can and will directly affect that. Even if you do happen to be dealing with financial/material things too, that can affect your self-worth directly.

(e.g.: say you are married to someone who is constantly in debt, or say your spouse is the breadwinner of the household and you depend on them financially. That can really take a toll on your self-worth. It can bring feelings of poor self-esteem, can you make you feel undervalued, inadequate, make you feel like a burden, or make you feel incapable of caring for yourself. It can strike your self-confidence and make you VALUE yourself less. Or the opposite. Your spouse may open you up to new possibilities of making money, which in turn gets you into a new passion project that you succeed in and that can make you feel like a worthy person, make you believe in yourself, make you feel important and valuable.)

I would argue that most often, it's the 8H Synastry that will really have your partner's materials affecting you, because the 2H is the house of your PERSONAL gains, while the 8H is the house of OTHERS' gains and possessions. Most often, the biggest impact I'd say 2H love placements have will be dealing with self-worth, self-confidence, shared values and morals, feelings of belonging and acceptance.

General Things ✨

What I see most often is that positive and negative outcomes tend to happen simultaneously. It's not all doom and gloom, but it's also not all sunshine and rainbows all the time. Sometimes it's great, sometimes it's not so great, and those ups and downs come and go. That's just life. Both are there to be worked with, worked for, or worked through. At the end of the day, astrology will not mandate your life events, and you have to always be learning from your life, and working on yourself and the things that matter to you. Astrology is just a guiding light to identify possible themes to be mindful of.

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That's it! Thank you if you've read it this far! I might have come off a bit harsh (I hope I haven't), but I promise I'm nice lol.

My whole goal is to try to discuss astrology in as realistically as possible, but while making it clear that any possible outcome is plausible. If most times all you hear are fantastic stereotypical descriptions of placements, such as 7H, the not so great ways in which it can play out will be explored here to help people navigate them. If all you hear are bad things about a house, then I'll try to show the positive ways in which it can come out.

The whole point is to try to bring a wide range of notions to these descriptions, together with the information that is already out there and available by many other creators.

At the end of the day, remember this is all POSSIBILITIES. Your personal life has to be analysed to know what's gonna ensue. And don't be discouraged, because the truth is that positive and negative effects tend to happen together for your best.

Hope you have a good day when you find this!

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