#but oh well characters do what characters do

[aesthetically-dying101]

Smooch

A/N: TO THE ANON: IM SO SORRY, i accidently deleted the ask that asked: "how would the jjk men react to you randomely kissing them?" FUCK ME IM SORRY FOR DELETING IT, ANYWAYS POOKIE HERE IT IS

warning: some established relationships, some non established, kissing, gojo being a lil shit, nanami being so DAMN adorabe its making me vomit. creepy rando man. mostly fluff tho (not for geto, sorry pookies), i'm being nice. Mostly crack

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Choso, Shiu, Higuruma. (in that order)

The air still thrummed with the tension of battle, smoke and cursed energy clinging to the ruined streets like stubborn memories. You stood on trembling legs, the adrenaline making everything sharper: the glint of blood on the edge of Nanami's blade, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the way his tie flapped rebelliously despite the chaos being over.

You’d seen him fight before, but this? This was something else. The man was a force. Watching him wade through curses, calm and unyielding, to protect his students—protect Yuji—had set your heart on fire.

Literally. Your chest ached. He was just so… Hot.

Inspiring.

Selfless.

Outrageously overworked, but hot.

Your crush on Nanami was no secret to yourself, though you’d buried it deep under professionalism and a healthy dose of "I'm-a-grown-adult-who-totally-has-it-together" denial.

“Kento,” you croaked, your throat dry from shouting during the fight. Not that he heard. He was still wiping blood from his weapon, his focus entirely on making sure Yuji wasn’t missing any limbs.

Yuji, for his part, looked like a kicked puppy. “I’m fine, Nanami. Really! A couple of scratches—”

“Scratches become infections. Infections become—” Nanami began, his voice low and even, and you wanted to scream because how dare he sound that composed after nearly dying. Maybe it was your brain short-circuiting from the sheer Nanami-ness of him.

The sheer whiplash of your emotions—from panic to relief to sheer I cannot believe this man exists—burst out of you like a firework. Before you could second-guess yourself, your feet moved. You grabbed the front of his stupid, perfectly pressed shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him.

Kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t planned.

It was pure, unfiltered relief, and affection, and admiration, and the overwhelming sense that Kento Nanami was too goddamn precious for this world. His lips were warm and dry, just like you imagined.

For one glorious moment, he froze—caught off guard in a way you’d never seen before. Then his hand twitched like he might touch you, and that’s when reality smacked you upside the head.

“Oh my God,” you blurted, shoving him away so hard he actually stumbled back a step. “Oh my God, I’m sorry—Nanami, I—Mr. Nanami—I mean, Kento—I—what did I just do?” Your hands flew to your face, muffling your panicked stream of consciousness.

Nanami stood there, stunned, his weapon slack in one hand.

“I don’t—uh—wow,” you stammered, pacing in tight circles. “That was so inappropriate. I mean, we’re at work—well, technically a post-apocalyptic battlefield, but that’s basically work. I just—oh my God, you’re bleeding. Are you bleeding? You are! Let me—no, no, I can’t touch you—”

“Do you like me?” His calm voice cut through your spiral like a knife through butter.

You stopped mid-pace, blinking at him.

“Do I…” You pointed to yourself, dumbfounded. “Do I like you?”

Nanami’s brow furrowed like he was trying to solve a riddle.

“You kissed me. That suggests…” He trailed off, his ears red. Red. Nanami Kento, the unshakable man himself, was blushing.

“OF COURSE I LIKE YOU!” you blurted, because what else was there to say? “Are you kidding me? You’re smart, and kind, and self-sacrificing to a fault, and the way you fight—” You gestured vaguely toward his weapon, heat flooding your face. “I mean, it’s really impressive, and your voice is, like, weirdly soothing? And—God, have you seen your hands? They’re insane. Like, how dare you have hands like that?”

Yuji, bless his sweet little heart, was standing a few feet away, looking utterly bewildered but also kind of...proud? Like he was rooting for you? You couldn’t decide if that made it better or worse.

Yuji made a small sound somewhere behind you.

“Yay?”

“Yuji, not now!” you snapped, your eyes still locked on Nanami, who looked like you’d just handed him a quadratic equation written in crayon.

The silence stretched. You wanted to melt into the cracked pavement and die there. And then—slowly, impossibly—his lips twitched.

“‘How dare I have hands like that?’” he repeated, his tone dry but warm.

“Don’t mock me! I’m having a crisis!”

He stepped closer, close enough that you could see the faint laugh lines around his eyes. “I’m not mocking you.” His voice softened. “I’m trying to process.”

“Process what? That I kissed you? That I have terrible taste in men—not that you’re terrible, you’re amazing—oh my God, I’m still talking—”

“I like you too.”

You froze. “What?”

“I said I like you too,” he repeated, his expression calm but his eyes gentle. “And I’m glad you kissed me, even if it was…unexpected.”

“Unexpected?!” Yuji exclaimed. “Dude, we all saw it coming!”

You and Nanami both turned to glare at him, and Yuji threw up his hands in surrender. “I mean—yay! Go, you guys! Woo!”

Nanami sighed, his hand reaching up to adjust his tie, and you caught it before he could. His gaze flicked to yours, surprised.

“Just…take care of yourself, okay?” you murmured. “You can’t keep putting everyone else first all the time.”

His hand closed around yours, firm and reassuring. “If I promise, will you stop worrying?”

You bit your lip. “Maybe. If you promise and let me take you to dinner.”

He raised a brow. “Is that an order?”

“Yes.”

“Understood,” he said, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw him smile.

You stumble into the apartment you share with Toji, at what must be the devil’s hour, the taste of dried blood and exhaustion heavy on your tongue. Your body feels like it’s made of bricks, each step a reminder of tonight’s shitshow. The job was a disaster, but hey, you're alive.

Barely.

Your shoulder’s throbbing, probably dislocated (you know you're gonna ask Toji to snap it back into place); there’s a slice on your thigh that’s gonna leave a nasty scar, and you’re fairly certain you’ve got a mild concussion. But the mission? Technically complete. Success, if you squint.

The apartment is dark, save for the faint glow of a streetlamp slicing through the blinds. The air is thick with the familiar scent of gun oil and that stupid cologne Toji always wears. You peel off your boots by the door, wincing as your sock squelches. Blood. Great.

Toji’s a lump on the bed, sprawled out like a dead man. His arm dangles off the side, his breathing slow and deep. Must be nice to sleep like that.

Must be nice to sleep at all.

You limp over, each step making you rethink your life choices, and shake his shoulder. Gently, at first. He doesn’t budge. Typical. You give him another shove.

“Oi, wake up, Toji.”

Still nothing. Unbelievable.

You’re mid-eye roll when he moves like a damn cobra, faster than your sluggish brain can process. In one smooth motion, he’s got you flat on your back with the cold barrel of his pistol pressed firmly against your throat.

Your first thought? Oh, for fuck’s sake.

His eyes are half-lidded, unfocused, but there’s enough menace in them to make anyone else wet their pants.

“Wife?” he grunts, voice rough from sleep.

Neanderthal, you think, staring up at him, unimpressed. You’ve just dragged yourself home from a near-death experience, and this is the reception you get? He smells like sweat and sleep (is that a thing?), his hair sticking up at angles only a demon could love. And he has the audacity to press a gun to your throat? Really?

“Put the gun down, idiot,” you mutter, too tired to care that he could accidentally end you right now.

Toji blinks, his foggy brain clearly struggling to connect the dots. But he lowers the weapon anyway, tossing it to the side with a grunt.

“You good?” he asks, rubbing a hand over his face.

Instead of answering, you grab his face. Both hands, firm, like he’s some unruly beast you’re taming. Toji freezes, wide-eyed, and before he can start grumbling or say something infuriating, you kiss him.

Not a peck. Not a lazy, tired smooch.

A kiss.

Like the kind that says, I almost died tonight but didn’t, and for some reason, I wanted to see your dumbass face when I got back.

He doesn’t react at first, probably still half-asleep and trying to figure out if this is some kind of weird dream. But then his hands come up, one settling on your hip, the other cradling the back of your head like you’re made of glass. He kisses you back, slow at first, then with a kind of feral intensity that makes you forget you’re bleeding all over the damn bed.

When you finally pull back, panting and lightheaded, he stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. “What the hell was that for?”

You flop onto the mattress next to him, groaning as every injury makes itself known. “Almost died. Needed a kiss. Shut up.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then mutters, “You’re bleeding.”

“No shit, my shoulder's been dislocated too,” you snap, already regretting the kiss because now you’re reminded that everything hurts. “You gonna fix it, or just stare at me all night?”

Toji huffs, dragging himself out of bed.

“You’re lucky I like you, woman,” he grumbles, rummaging for the first aid kit.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, letting your eyes drift closed. The bed dips as he sits back down, and you feel the sting of antiseptic on your shoulder.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he says, voice softer now. “Gotta patch you up first.”

“Whatever you say, caveman.”

You think you hear him chuckle, low and rough, but you’re already half-gone. And despite the pain, despite the chaos of the night, you feel... safe. Stupidly safe, with Toji grumbling insults under his breath and his hands working carefully to keep you in one piece.

Home. Or something like it.

Gojo Satoru walked into the apartment, exhausted but relieved to finally be home. He'd been on mission after mission for what felt like forever, leaving little time for himself, let alone his girlfriend. The past few days had been a blur of paperwork, cursed spirits, and long hours of absence that left an ache in his chest, a longing to be with the one person who always made him feel like himself.

As the door clicked shut behind him, a familiar shift in the air settled over him — his Infinity. It wasn't just the buzz of the usual limitless power that made him feel protected and invincible, no, this was different. This was the subtle, barely perceptible moment when he knew his Infinity was off because she was here. It always did that when she was around, and he knew she’d be nearby.

But before he could even finish the word “I’m home—”

BAM.

You crashed into him, practically knocking the wind out of his lungs. Your lips slammed against his with all the pent-up affection that had built in your heart over the past few days. You kissed him like he was air, your hands grasping at the front of his shirt as if you'd missed him more than anything. The kiss was messy, needy — but most importantly, it was real.

Gojo froze for a split second, a low laugh escaping his lips as he felt the sheer intensity of your sudden onslaught. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as though he could disappear again if you didn’t hold him tightly enough.

“Oh, I see how it is,” he mumbled against your lips, feigning surprise, though the dramatic shift in his voice betrayed how deeply he was enjoying it. “Is this how you welcome me home, huh?”

“You’ve been gone for days, Satoru,” you muttered in between kisses, your voice muffled but full of emotion. “I missed you.”

You couldn’t help but slip your hands lower, brushing against the firm muscles of his chest, feeling the warmth that only he had. It wasn’t just about the absence- it was the aching distance, the unsaid words, the nights you'd spent curled in bed, staring at the empty space beside you, wishing he was there.

Gojo felt his heart skip a beat- you had that effect on him, always. Your warmth, your softness, and the way you seemed to understand him better than anyone else. The tension in his shoulders melted away as he melted into you, hands sliding down to hold you by the waist, to anchor you against him.

And then, with a dramatic gasp that could only be Gojo, he pulled back, his hands coming up to cradle your face (kinda squishing your cheeks), eyes wide as if he’d been struck by lightning.

“Princess—” he whined, the very term of endearment a mockery of how absurdly dramatic he could get. “I’ve been gone for days, and this is how you treat me? After everything I’ve sacrificed for you? For us?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You adored his theatrics, even if they were so Gojo Satoru.

“Yes, this is how I treat you,” you teased, glancing up at him with a playful sparkle in your eyes. “Now, kiss me like you mean it.”

And as if on cue, his lips descended, only to be met with—spray.

Hsssssssssss!

The sharp, cold spray of her plant vaporizer hit him right in the face.

His mouth immediately fell open in shock, the spray misting his face, and Gojo recoiled in mock horror. “WHAT—?!”

“You were gone too long,” you said, still holding the sprayer with an air of nonchalance, though you could barely keep your own smile from breaking through. “You don’t get to come back after disappearing and act like everything’s fine. You’re gonna have to earn your kiss.”

His hand flew to his face, rubbing the wetness away in exaggerated frustration.

“You vaporized me?!” he asked, turning his eyes toward you, his dramatic pout making him look like a child who’d been wronged. “After all I’ve done for you?! All my sacrifices? I’ve been risking my life, getting cursed every time, and THIS is how you treat me? This?!”

You giggled, looking at him like he was a giant kid. “You did disappear for days, 'Toru. And you were busy being all heroic, saving the day. Not like you left me with any choice.”

He wiped his face again, but as he did, he kept his eyes on you, his usual smugness replaced by a touch of genuine longing.

“I didn’t want to be gone,” he muttered, the act slipping for a moment as he looked at you with an almost vulnerable expression. “But you know how it is... sometimes I’m not really in control of it. I just... miss you, too. I just...”

Before he could finish, you stepped forward again, slower this time, your hands gently cupping his cheeks. This time, your kiss was softer, more tender, a quiet apology for the harsh spray. Your lips were warm against his, and the familiarity of your scent- the sweetness of your presence- seemed to fill every space around him. Your kiss spoke of longing, of missing him in ways that words couldn’t explain.

Gojo’s hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. For a moment, there was nothing but the shared warmth, the closeness of your connection.

“I missed you,” you whispered, breaking the kiss just long enough to say it. “I missed you so much, Satoru. You don’t even know.”

He exhaled a soft laugh, brushing a strand of your hair from your face, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your cheek.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice steady but full of affection. “I missed you, too. You’re all I ever think about when I’m out there.”

A silence fell between you, comfortable, soft. You rested your forehead against his, and he closed his eyes, just enjoying the moment.

Home.

“I’m never leaving you that long again,” he promised, his hands still resting on your hips, pulling you into him.

“Good,” you said with a playful grin. “If you do, I'll vaporize you again.”

He shot her a teasing look. “NooOOo- t's gonna mess up my hair-”

With a dramatic sigh, he kissed you again, and this time, there was no interruption, just two people who couldn’t bear to be apart any longer.

The sun was setting, casting golden rays across the horizon, as though the universe itself mourned for the moment. You sat beside Suguru, his body battered and bruised, the life draining from him far too quickly. Blood pooled around him, a cruel mockery of the warmth he used to exude. His breaths were shallow, his strength ebbing away like water through a sieve.

He was still so beautiful.

Your hands trembled as you reached out to him, brushing strands of dark hair from his face.

That face.

It still bore the faintest traces of the boy you once knew—sharp, confident, full of purpose. Now, his features were gaunt, his skin pallid, but his eyes... his eyes still held a spark of the man you had loved. The man you still loved.

"Suguru..." your voice cracked, a whisper more than a word.

He managed a weak smile, the corner of his mouth quirking up, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

"You're here," he rasped, his voice barely audible, strained.

Tears blurred your vision.

You nodded, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, as if the pain could anchor you in the reality of the moment.

"Of course, I’m here," you said, your voice breaking. "Where else would I be?"

A bitter chuckle escaped him, though it sounded more like a cough. "By his side," he murmured, the weight of Gojo’s name heavy in the space between you.

You shook your head fiercely. "Don’t," you pleaded. "Don’t do that. Don’t push me away—not now."

His gaze softened, but there was a flicker of sadness in his expression. "Old habits, I guess."

Silence settled between you for a moment, save for the distant cries of the injured and the hum of the world continuing without care. You hated it. How could everything go on like this while he was slipping away?

"I should’ve done more," you blurted out, the confession tearing from your chest like a wound ripped open. "I should’ve stopped you... back then. I should’ve fought harder for you."

Suguru’s brows furrowed slightly, a mix of surprise and regret crossing his face. "You couldn’t have stopped me," he said softly. "I made my choice."

"But I should have tried!" you cried, your voice cracking under the weight of your guilt. "I knew you were hurting. I saw it, and I—" Your words faltered, choked by a sob. "I thought if I gave you space, you’d come back. That you’d find your way back to me. To us."

His hand, weak but steady, reached out to yours. His touch was colder than you remembered, but it grounded you all the same. "Don’t blame yourself," he murmured. "You... you were the one good thing I had left, and I couldn’t taint that. You were my light, even when I didn’t deserve it."

You leaned closer, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. "You’ve always deserved it," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I never stopped loving you, Suguru. Not for a second. Not even when you—"

Your voice caught, and you lowered your head, pressing your forehead against his. He smelled faintly of blood and something earthy, something that reminded you of home.

"I’m so sorry," you whispered. "I’m so, so sorry."

Suguru’s breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought you saw his composure crack. His eyes glistened, his lips parting as though to say something, but he hesitated. "I... I don’t deserve your love," he finally said, his voice barely more than a breath. "Not after everything I’ve done. The people I’ve hurt."

You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "You deserve every ounce of love, Suguru," you said fiercely, your voice steadier than you thought possible. "Even when you were lost, even when I didn’t know how to reach you—I loved you."

And then, before either of you could second-guess, you leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft, tentative, a brush of lips that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. Suguru stiffened beneath you, his breath hitching, but he didn’t pull away. His eyes fluttered shut, and for a brief, fragile moment, it was as though the weight of the world had lifted. There was only you, only him.

When you pulled back, his gaze searched yours, wide with surprise and something else—something raw and unguarded. "Why...?" he asked, his voice cracking, his brows furrowing as though the question itself pained him. "Why would you...?"

You smiled through your tears, shaking your head. "Because I never stopped," you said simply. "And because you deserved to know before—" Your voice broke again, and you choked back a sob. "Before it’s too late."

A tear slipped down his cheek, and his lips curved into the faintest smile.

"You’re cruel," he whispered, though there was no malice in his tone. "Giving me a taste of something I can’t hold onto."

"You’ve always held it," you said, your voice trembling. "Even when you didn’t know it."

You kissed him again, deeper this time, as if you could pour all the love, all the regret, all the words left unsaid into that single moment. When you pulled back, Suguru’s eyes were glassy, his breaths shallower than before. God no- please, he needs more time.

"I wish..." he began, but his voice faltered.

You nodded, understanding the words he couldn’t say. "Me too," you whispered, your thumb brushing against his cheek. "I wish we had more time."

The light in his eyes began to fade, and panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to stay steady. This was his moment, not yours. You wouldn’t let your fear steal it from him.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "For... for everything."

Your heart shattered, the pieces lodging in your throat, but you managed a smile, even as tears blurred your vision. "Always," you whispered. "Always, Suguru."

His eyes lingered on yours for a heartbeat longer before they slipped shut, his breath hitching once, then stilling. You clung to him, pressing your forehead to his, your tears mixing with the blood and sweat on his skin.

And then, there was nothing.

The grand hall buzzed with life, the air thick with wine, roasted meats, and the chatter of those brave—or foolish—enough to attend a banquet in Ryomen Sukuna's domain. You, one of the longest-standing servants in his service, moved amidst the chaos, your well-practiced steps carrying trays, refilling goblets, and blending into the shadows. You had no illusions about your position here. To serve the King of Curses was to balance on a knife's edge, but the years had hardened you. You were still alive, and in a place like this, that was an achievement in itself.

Perhaps you were even favored.

The whispers among the other servants suggested so. Sukuna, for all his wrath and godlike power, hadn’t crushed you beneath his four arms or silenced you for eternity. It wasn’t kindness, you knew that much. But the fact that you were still here, breathing, meant something. And that meant you tread carefully—at least most of the time.

But tonight? Tonight, you drank (a terrible decision, really).

The banquet was in full swing, and even servants were afforded some respite during such grand affairs. You’d accepted a goblet of sake, relishing the brief warmth it offered your tired limbs, and maybe—just maybe—you indulged in one too many. Which is why you didn’t immediately notice the attention of a particular male servant lingering too long, his touch brushing your arm as he whispered something that made your stomach twist unpleasantly.

“Don’t.” Your voice was firm, but the man didn’t relent, his smirk a sickening thing.

The room suddenly felt too small, the flickering torchlight casting shadows that felt sharper, darker. You turned, stumbling slightly in your attempt to move away, only to collide with something solid, something unyielding.

Four arms caught you in an iron grip, steadying your swaying form.

And then you looked up.

Sukuna, in all his terrifying glory, loomed over you.

His dual faces stared down, one expression unreadable, the other bearing a smirk that could freeze blood. His crimson eyes glowed faintly, and the room seemed to hold its breath. The noise, the revelry—it all faded into nothingness as your brain registered who you’d just stumbled into.

“Oh—my Lord, I—” Words failed you, and before you could think better of it, you leaned up on unsteady toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

As if that'd make any situation better.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even logical. You’d kissed him out of pure instinct, as though the ridiculous gesture could smooth over your mistake. The taste of sake lingered on your lips, and you felt his skin—warm, impossibly warm—beneath them.

The world stopped.

Sukuna didn’t move, didn’t speak. He merely stared at you, the faintest arch of his brow the only indication of his surprise. One of his mouths twitched, as though he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or bare his teeth.

But the other servant? He slinked away without another word, the weight of Sukuna’s gaze enough to cow even the boldest.

You, however, weren’t thinking about that. You were thinking about how dead you were.

“My apologies, my Lord,” you mumbled, stepping back quickly, your legs trembling as you bowed low. “It was a mistake. I—I’ll leave—”

You fled without hesitation, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

*-*

The morning came too soon, and with it, a summons to Sukuna’s quarters.

You stood outside the heavy wooden doors, your palms sweating despite the cold. Servants whispered as they passed, their pitying gazes confirming your worst fears.

You’d kissed the King of Curses- on the cheek- but still.

You’d crossed a line so absurd it was almost laughable—almost.

The doors creaked open, and you stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of incense and something darker, something uniquely him. Sukuna lounged on a throne-like chair, his four arms resting lazily, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your knees threaten to give out.

“You summoned me, my Lord.” Your voice was steady—barely.

He leaned forward slightly, a smile curling one of his mouths. “Do you make it a habit to kiss your superiors, little one? Or am I special?”

Your breath hitched, panic clawing at your chest.

“No, my Lord. It was— It wasn’t intentional. I—”

“Explain.” His tone was almost amused, but the weight of his command was unmistakable.

You swallowed hard, words tumbling out before you could stop them. “There was a servant. He—he wouldn’t leave me alone. I was trying to get away, and I—” You broke off, heat flooding your face as you realized how ridiculous it all sounded. “I thought… If I kissed you, he’d stop.”

Silence.

And then Sukuna laughed.

It wasn’t the cruel, mocking laugh you’d feared. It was low, rumbling, and almost—almost—genuine. “You used me as a shield? Bold. Stupid, but bold.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you—”

“Offend me?” He rose, his massive form towering over you as he descended the steps toward where you stood trembling. One clawed hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re lucky I find this amusing. If it were anyone else…”

His words hung in the air, unfinished, and you didn’t need him to elaborate.

“But…” His voice softened, though it was no less dangerous. “The thought of another human touching what’s mine—” His grip tightened ever so slightly, his crimson eyes darkening. “—that doesn’t sit well with me.”

You blinked, confusion warring with fear. “Yours?”

“Yes, mine.” The declaration was calm, almost matter-of-fact. “You’ve served me longer than any other. You’re still alive. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”

Your heart stuttered, his words wrapping around you like a noose. “I—”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, little one.” He released you, turning back toward his throne. “You’ll stay by my side from now on. I don’t want anyone else getting ideas.”

The dismissal was clear, but your legs refused to move, your mind reeling. Sukuna glanced back, his smirk widening at your stunned expression. “What are you waiting for? Go. And don’t make me summon you for something so trivial again.”

You bowed quickly, fleeing the room before he could change his mind.

As you stumbled into the corridor, your heart still racing, one thought burned in your mind.

What just happened?

Choso hadn’t expected to see you here.

The fight had been messy—blood everywhere, clinging to his skin, his clothes, the ground. Some of it wasn’t his own, but that didn’t make it better. The curse had been stubborn, and Choso’s cursed technique demanded sacrifice, drawing from the very essence of his being to fuel his strength.

Now, the aftermath was a field of carnage, and he stood in the middle of it, panting. His hair clung to his damp forehead, stray strands falling from the tie that barely kept it in place. Crimson stained his hands, dripping from his fingertips like a grim metronome. He was still catching his breath when your voice broke through the haze.

“Choso!”

You ran toward him, your expression shifting from relief to concern as you closed the distance. He froze, wide-eyed, as you reached him, ignoring the gore and grime that painted him from head to toe.

“Hey—what are you doing here?” His voice came out rough, almost scolding, but the undercurrent of worry was impossible to miss. “This isn’t a safe place—”

“Are you okay?” you interrupted, not stopping until you were right in front of him. You looked him over, your hands hovering near his arm before pulling back. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s not mine,” he said quickly, though his voice faltered when he saw the doubt flash in your eyes. “...Most of it isn’t mine.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as you stepped even closer. He could feel your warmth now, the way your presence melted into his, grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“You shouldn’t—”

Before he could finish, you cupped his face in your hands, ignoring the sticky residue of blood that smeared against your palms. His lips parted in a silent protest that died the second your lips met his.

The kiss was soft, lingering—nothing hurried, nothing frantic. Just your warmth, your assurance, pouring into him like sunlight piercing through a storm. His mind blanked. For a moment, the weight of the fight, the exhaustion, the blood, it all evaporated.

When you pulled back, you didn’t move far, your faces still close enough for him to see the tiny flecks of color in your eyes.

“I’m covered in blood,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“So what?” You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face with a thumb. “I still love you.”

The words hit him harder than any blow he’d taken during the fight. He stared at you, his breath catching, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might give out.

“You shouldn’t—” he began, but you cut him off again, this time with a finger pressed gently to his lips.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I should or shouldn’t feel.” Your voice was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument. “I love you, Choso. Blood, scars, all of it.”

He swallowed hard, searching your face for any sign of hesitation, any trace of fear. But all he found was sincerity, shining as brightly as the sun.

“I—” His voice cracked, and he cursed himself for it, looking away. “I don’t deserve that.”

“Yes, you do,” you said without missing a beat. You tilted his chin back toward you, forcing him to meet your gaze. “And I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe it.”

For a moment, he could only stare at you, his mind a whirlwind of emotions too tangled to unravel. Then, slowly, hesitantly, he reached for you, his blood-streaked hands trembling as they came to rest on your waist.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unspoken, something fragile.

“You don’t have to thank me for loving you,” you said with a gentle laugh, leaning in to rest your forehead against his.

He closed his eyes, letting the sound of your laughter fill the hollow spaces inside him. For the first time in what felt like forever, the blood on his hands didn’t feel like a weight he had to carry alone.

“I’ll get better at this,” he promised, his voice a quiet vow.

“You don’t have to,” you replied softly. “You’re enough just like this.”

And in that moment, with your arms around him and your love anchoring him, he almost believed it.

Shiu Kong was done.

Done with Toji’s crap, done with his own responsibilities, done with the persistent ache in his shoulders from hunching over paperwork all damn day.

His tie was loosened, but it felt more like a noose. A neat pile of ash gathered in the tray beside him, his third cigarette of the last hour smoldering between his fingers. Even the quiet hum of his office was suffocating. He just wanted— needed—a moment of silence, of nothingness, where the world would stop demanding every ounce of his energy.

So when the door creaked open, a surge of frustration welled up in his chest.

“Not now,” Shiu barked, spinning his chair around, ready to tell whoever it was to get the hell out. But the words died on his tongue the second he saw you.

You.

His wife, standing there with that soft, knowing smile. The one that threatened to disarm him every single time. And before he could say anything—an apology, a question, anything—you closed the distance, your hands cradling his jaw like he was something fragile.

Then, you kissed him.

It wasn’t hurried or fleeting. It wasn’t the type of kiss meant to start anything more. No, this was one of those grounding, soul-deep kisses—the kind that said everything words couldn’t.

Shiu froze. For a heartbeat, his mind couldn’t quite catch up. But then, his eyes slipped shut, and he melted into you.

God, he melted.

The cigarette tumbled from his fingers into the ashtray as his hands came up to hold your waist, pulling you closer like he needed you to keep him tethered to the earth.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead pressed lightly against yours. His eyes opened, and there you were, looking at him like he was something worth saving.

“...I was working,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

“I know,” you replied softly, brushing a thumb along the dark circles under his eyes. “But you looked like you needed a reminder of why you bother.”

He huffed, a sound caught between a laugh and a sigh. His head tilted, and you felt his lips graze your temple. A quiet, almost whispered, “You’re too good to me.”

“Someone has to be.”

The words came out lighter than you intended, but there was no mistaking the sincerity beneath them. You stepped back slightly, fingers still brushing against his tie as you loosened it further.

“You’ve been at this for hours. You’re going to work yourself into an early grave,” you chided, though your tone was gentle.

“Could be worse. Could be Toji burying me,” Shiu muttered darkly, his lips twitching in that way they always did when he tried to hide his amusement.

You rolled your eyes. “If Toji doesn’t kill you, the stress will.” Your hands slid up his chest and rested over his racing heart. “Take a break. Five minutes, even.”

He looked at you like you’d asked him to dismantle the entire operation single-handedly. “I can’t just—”

“You can,” you interrupted. “And you will. Because if you don’t, I’m going to drag you out of this chair myself.”

The silence stretched, but there was no tension in it. Just the steady thrum of your shared breath. Finally, he sighed, shoulders sagging like the fight had gone out of him.

“Fine,” he relented, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

“Oh, so you can be charmed,” you teased, grinning as he shot you a mock glare.

“You think you’re funny, huh?”

“I know I am.”

Another quiet laugh escaped him—this one real, unguarded. He reached for you again, his hand finding yours, thumb brushing along your knuckles. For the first time that day, the weight on his chest felt just a little lighter.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured. But his tone betrayed him, softer than silk, full of gratitude he didn’t have the words for.

“And you love me anyway,” you replied, leaning in to press one last kiss to his forehead.

Shiu said nothing, but he didn’t need to. The way he pulled you into his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck, spoke volumes. The smell of smoke and the faintest hint of cologne lingered between you as he breathed you in, as if you were the antidote to all the poison in his veins.

And for the first time in hours, Shiu didn’t think about Toji. Or work. Or the chaos waiting for him tomorrow.

For now, there was just you.

The room was cloaked in the kind of silence that only exhaustion could birth, heavy and thick like a shroud.

Papers were strewn across the table—witness statements, diagrams, hastily scrawled notes that didn’t quite connect. The overhead light buzzed faintly, and Hiromi could feel the weight of hours pressing down on his shoulders, the ache of his back bent too long over evidence that refused to yield.

You were pacing.

Barefoot now, shoes abandoned hours ago, socks sliding against the tiles as you moved like a restless pendulum, muttering bits of the puzzle under your breath. He watched you in the moments he dared to lift his gaze from the documents—watched how the fatigue softened your edges but sharpened your focus, a juxtaposition that shouldn’t have made sense but did.

Then, it happened.

You froze mid-step, eyes going wide, lips parting as if you’d just swallowed lightning.

“Wait,” you whispered, more to yourself than him. “Wait, wait, wait—oh my God.”

Hiromi sat up straighter, the air shifting with your energy as you spun on your heel, face alight with something triumphant, manic, and devastatingly beautiful. “We’ve got it.”

“What?” His voice was hoarse, unused for hours, but you didn’t answer. You only crossed the room in three steps, grabbed his face in your hands like he was some divine revelation in human form, and kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t even fully conscious—an act born purely of adrenaline and sleeplessness and the electric hum of victory. Your lips pressed to his, fleeting but fierce, a lightning strike that left him stunned in its wake.

Before he could even process it—before he could react—you pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, as if you didn’t even realize what you’d done.

“We’ve got it,” you repeated, a grin breaking across your face. “I have to tell them—this’ll break the whole case open—”

And then you were gone, feet pounding against the floor, the door swinging shut behind you with a gust of air that smelled faintly of you.

Hiromi blinked. Once. Twice.

The world slowly resumed its shape around him, but everything felt wrong now, tilted. You’d kissed him.

You’d kissed him.

And then you’d left like it was nothing, like it hadn’t sent a shockwave through every nerve in his body.

For a moment, he just sat there, fingers brushing absently against his lips, stunned into an unfamiliar stillness. Then—

“Wait.”

He shot to his feet, chair scraping harshly against the floor, legs moving before his brain caught up.

“Wait!” His voice echoed in the hallway as he stumbled after you, his usual composure unraveling like thread. “Hey—wait—come back!”

You were already halfway to the supervisor’s office, still riding the high of discovery, when his hand caught your wrist. The sudden pull made you spin, chest colliding with his as you blinked up at him, wide-eyed and confused. “Hiromi, what—”

“You kissed me,” he said, breathless and disbelieving, like the words had been dragged out of him by some unseen force.

“What?”

“You kissed me,” he repeated, voice cracking just slightly, and he was looking at you now like you’d hung the stars but forgotten to tell him they were his. “You—back there—you kissed me.”

For a second, you just stared at him. Then, like a slow dawn, realization crept over your face, turning your expression into something equal parts horror and wonder.

“Oh,” you whispered.

“Yeah.”

“I—oh.”

“You already said that,” he pointed out, but his voice was softer now, almost teasing, and you couldn’t help the way your lips quirked despite the mortification blooming in your chest.

“I—” You were cut off by his lips on yours, warmer and surer than before, a second chance taken with both hands.

This time, you kissed him back.

And when you broke apart, both of you laughing, breathless, and slightly unsteady on your feet, it felt like the exhaustion had been replaced with something brighter, lighter.

“Case first,” you murmured against his lips, though your hands didn’t quite loosen their grip on his jacket.

“Fine,” he said, smirking. “But I’m not letting you run off this time.”

And you didn’t.

A/N: ikikikik that hiromi's and nanami's are similar but LET MEEEE BEEEEEEEE. i tried okay, an attempt was made or whatever.Again, i'm so sorry to the anon that requested this and i stupidly deleted the ask. at first i wrote the gojo one in "her" pov, but i didn't like that and went back to "you".

Masterlist

:)

[theminecraftbee]

Grian sits on the edge of a desert cliff, watching the sunrise. His knuckles are bloody. He's had this dream before, and he's lived this moment before. He's awfully tired of it, honestly. He's not even particularly sad anymore. It's hard to be particularly sad, this long after, this much more between them.

But his knuckles are bloody again. There's someone sitting next to him.

"Joel?" he says, baffled.

"Yeah, hi, really weird bloody dreamscape you've got. Literally and figuratively: bloody hell. Like, Scott, he's got this pretty cottage and all these flowers and the single most terrifying version of Jimmy that I've seen in my life. Which serves him right, since he's a bastard, and I told him that. Or, uh, Pearl. She's normal. She's got dogs and... shit, I don't know--"

"Why are you here?" Grian asks.

"Oh, right, I was tasked with asking you if you regret it," Joel says.

There's a long moment of silence. The wind blows.

"I mean. No?" Grian says.

"Right? That's what I said! Blumin' stupid question, that!" Joel says.

"Wait, you mentioned--are you asking everyone that?" Grian asks.

"Yeah! It was all, oh, you've got a car, you can travel, it'll be all poetic like. You've had a 'character arc'--like I'm some, some fake guy--and grown as a person, everyone else has to, would they do things differently now? And I said, man, that's stupid. That's really stupid. But the glowing purple eyes guys--"

"Wait wait wait wait, the who?" Grian interrupts.

"Sorry, do you not know the glowing purple eyes guys? Martyn was acting like you're all buddies or something. Then I punched him. Because it was funny," Joel says.

"No, I know the--they asked you to do this?" Grian says. He takes a moment to try to imagine it. He has some trouble. Joel and the Watchers don't really belong in the same place at the same time for so many reasons that Grian doesn't know where to begin.

"Apparently, I'm not being serious enough," Joel informs Grian. "I kinda get it, actually. Like, everyone but Cleo has been somewhere like..."

Joel looks out over the cliff. It is tall, and Grian knows he cannot see the ground from the top. He had been able to during the actual games, of course, but these aren't the actual games; these are the memories of what brought him to victory, made manifest.

"So I guess I kinda wondered, since you lot always seem so blumin' sad about it," Joel finishes.

"I'm not really," Grian says.

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, maybe once, but--nah. Not really."

"Cool. That's the last one then," Joel says. "Hear that, weird glowing eyes guys? You act like I'm all weird or whatever but none of them regret it either. Not a single one of them."

Grian looks over the cliff again himself.

"None of us?" he asks, very quietly indeed.

Joel sighs. "All of you asked that too. I'm getting back in the bloody car."

Grian doesn't watch Joel leave. He rubs the blood off his knuckles and watches the sky instead. When he's tired thinking in circles about how he didn't really expect that he would be telling the truth, just then, he starts trying to imagine the trouble Joel might be giving everyone else instead. It's much more fun to think about than the sand that's getting in his socks. He's never able to get sand out of anything, these days, and it leaves him always just a little bit uncomfortable. Oh well; the price of being in a desert. He wouldn't be anywhere else if he had the choice, though, grit in his socks or not.

[kivrumi]

GEEK! SATORU GOJO / FEM! READER ᗢ𓄹 ׅ ࣪ ˖ ⊹

⚠️ WARNINGS: masturbation, dirty fantasies and thoughts, pervert behaviour, down bad Satoru, submissive Gojo, no actual smut (smut in part 2), very suggestive, NSFW, virgin Gojo who is severely downbad for reader.

A little bit of Geto/Sukuna x reader

PART 1 | PART 2

geek!gojo who is entirely obsessed with anime, video games, and whatever weird shit he can find on the internet. He can play boring simple games but they are nothing compared to the ones with heavy lore. Is it weird he is also obsessed with the lore behind all of these games? How the games were founded, what they mean, the creators themself, why was it made and the depth of every character.

whenever he found something new and intresting it will take over his entire personality.

geek!gojo would know weird facts about the creators of his intrests too. Like who bothered to find out or who even cares to find out that one of the creators of animal crossings birthday is April 7th? If you ever had a birthday that was the same as one of them he is IMMEDIATELY informing you.

geek!gojo who rambles to Geto about fortnite lore and any other lore he needs to tell someone, no one else cares to listen to him. Hell even Geto don't give a fuck but listens anyways (his ass is NOT listening and Gojo knows that).

geek!gojo who is in college and is a known loser. Glasses, Dragon Ball Z wallpaper, and a fucking random dinosaur as his phone cover. Trust me, that dinosaur has a lot of lore too that you WILL be informed about if you are anywhere near him.

Hence why no one goes near the guy.

geek!gojo who sees you for the first time, a transfer student. You are so utterly beautiful in his eyes he is already thinking how to ask you out with cheesy pick up lines that refrences his favourite game at the moment.

geek!gojo who seethes with jealousy seeing how easily you fit in with normies, its not like he knew if you had intresting taste, he just gave you his own little headcanon on some things he assumes you will share intrest with him.

annoyed!geto who has to not only hear about Satorus geeky ass topics, but now a girl he has never spoken to being his potential future wife. Sure you were overly pretty, but would you really want a geek like Satoru?

geek!gojo who has been eyeing you for almost a month now, same classes as you but never had the chance to utter a word at you. Instead he sits at the back with Geto, staring daggers at you (his way of rizzing) for not paying attention to him. He is mad how you found yourself in a big popular friendgroup, and seated sooooo far away from him.

geek!gojo who knows YOUR lore. Geto says its creepy but Geto doesn't know anything. Gojo is aware of how many siblings you have, your favorite food, drink, color and everything he could possibly grab by purposely earsdropping on your conversations.

Yet no sign of you sharing geeky intrests with Gojo... oh well, if you really are just an extremely pretty and cute normie, he will just have to teach you about everything he likes one by one!

geek!gojo who gets teased and bullied by the other people in your friendgroup, it was never physical, just constant nagging comments.

"Whats the nerd doing here" they would say, or "Isn't that the guy that has a roblox girlfriend?" He didn't have a roblox girlfriend that was just a rumour! It was just his own Miku avatar they got confused with! He hopes to god you dont believe that rumour! He is single and looking, looking at only you!

YOU who never batted an eye at him when your friends would tease him. It bothered him, not exactly how you would think...

Yes, he would love if you defended him, he would cry tears of joy. He wants that more than anything.

But you wouldn't give him that, the least you could do is join in the teasing. He ached for you to give him any sort of attention. Why were you standing there minding your own business when the rest of your friends are gossiping about him! After all this time do you not care to know about him? Even if it is to laugh about how much of a loser he is?

nerd!gojo who starts trying to find ways for you to notice him. Did you not realise how lately he only wears your favorite color? Look! He is eating your favorite snack!! Don't you want to ask for some? Ask him how much he likes them? Where he bought them? If you want to get some with him? Date him?

tired!geto who constantly bugs Gojo to forget about you, as the two sat in class. The teacher was reading out who gets paired with who for some project. Wait!! This is it!!! The sensei is obviously going to pair you and Gojo, thats how the fanfictions go... right?

geek!gojo whos ears perk up at the sensei calling your name, then swears someone shot him 568 times when he hears the name to go along with it.

"Suguru Geto"

geek!gojo is fuming, this is not how it's supposed to go! What happens if you get too close with Suguru during this two week project?

"Satoru and Sukuna" of course, he has to be paired with your annoying friend. There were even rumours of you two dating! Does this mean he is paired with your maybe secret boyfriend?

geek!gojo who suffered the two weeks of dealing with Sukuna and his friend getting you in all your glory. He would beg for Suguru to ramble on about you. But of course Suguru never gave much information to feed Gojo's curiousity.

geek!gojo who has never had pussy in his life. Actually, he was never one to think about girls that much. His games were far more important, and catching up on the authors life from his favourite underground manga sounded better than dreaming about girls.

But damn his mind never forgets to think about how cute and sexy you look everyday.

You come in every day with a skirt, he thanks the heavens when it looks a little shorter then the last time he saw you. When you wear baggy shirts and hoodies is allows him to fully visualise how you would look in his, and that just aches his cock...

The days you wear knee high socks its like you decided to gift him with life, blessing him, giving him a reason to come into college, reason to live. Don't get him started on the days you wear slightly revealing tops, or extremely tight ones.

Hell when you wear a baggy shirt that shows your shoulder he is fucking losing it, mumbling under his breath about how much he wants to lick and bite your exposed skin. He can see your bra strap and its driving him critically insane, why does he act like such a loser virgin teen. Well, he is two of those things.

geek!gojo who has all the compliments in the world to give you when he sees you walk through the doors, sitting far away infront of the class with your lame friends. But he cant bring himself to utter a word to you, how dare he be the first to speak to you, a lowly thing like him.

geek!gojo who is ripping his hair out at the back of the class, as much as he loves your laugh and giggles, it poisons his heart knowing they are all towards... Nanami? What the fuck! You even started speaking to Nanami before him!! Did you really look down on him, to the point you would neither pay positive or negative attention to him?

Oh well... because geek!gojo has many fantasies of you in his head, curing him from the loss of your attention and touch. Sure, his thoughts of you spiral in his head whilst in your presence and he can't contain himself nor his constant boners in class from the sight of you. But once he is all alone in his dorm room he can finally releif himself from his dirty thoughts.

Hand on dick, biting down on his lips, pants discarded.

geek!gojo was never one to masturbate that much, the sensation from how he used to do it before you to now is totally new and much better and sensitive because he actually had someone in mind, someone who deserved to be the one to make Gojo feel like this. So whiny, so needy, so.. submissive...

"ah- pleaseee let me come"

"ahh! ngh i need it baby"

He begs as if your there, the one toying with him. His hand is fast and he is getting more desperate. He cums quick by visualising your soft lips, nice smelling hair and wide innocent eyes.

Fuck. He was in deep...

What would you be like in bed? Submissive? would you be shy when he enters you or would you shout at him for taking so long? Would you be more dominant? Order him around, straddle his face and crotch. Tell him to be good for you for a treat? Bark Beg for you? Oh and now he's hard again...

consultant!geto who tells Gojo to

"start giving up, seriously. I dont want to see you hurt Satoru"

Is Suguru right? Gojo asks himself...

Maybe... he should try to stop... thinking about you so much... you're out of his league anyways and you've made it clear you want nothing to do with him. Gojo can take a hint, right?

geek!gojo who is sprawled on his bed again the same night, hand moving in a fast pace, moaning and screaming for you in pleasure. He misses you despite never getting to be around you. He needed you so bad.

geek!gojo who is panicked in class. Not only is Suguru off sick, making him alone, but you weren't in today. What was the point of him coming in? What was the point of him practicing how to talk to you infront of his mirror like he does everyday before college?

His heart is tainted, looking at your friend group bunched around together but your seat staying empty.

The lights in the class dimmed, a short film the sensei is playing about some aspect of human biology. Whatever, he wasn't one to study much or pay attention, he thinks as he carelessly pulls out tetris. Around seven minutes go by and right beside him the door opens. Gojo's seat is right by the entrance of the door, so he got a good view of you walking in, out of breath, tight top, knee high socks and messy hair.

Apologies to your teacher were said, the sensei dismissing your poor sense of time as you were usually never late. Gojo is extremely curious on why you were late, wants to question you like an insecure clingy boyfriend.

"Its fine, just quickly find a seat and dont interrupt the film" The teacher says to you as your eyes scanned the room for an available seat. Walking to your usual seat would be a nuisance... you would have to embarrassingly walk in front of everyone and interupt the film again, and Sukuna was near your seat, you dread to sit next to that weirdo.

geek!gojo who is ultimately curious at the sound of Sugurus chair being pulled back, and someone else taking it.

"Is Geto in today?" you ask quietly. You were staring... right... at him... Gojo was silent, still staring. Your first words ever to him. Even if it is about Geto, you spoke to him. That's all he cared for in the moment. It took him 13 seconds to respond to your question by shaking his head 'no'. You looked at him awkwardly, obviously you were weirded out by him being so... dumb? silent? lost? out of it?

He can barely function in your presence, and your words and your lingering eyes and your attention.

He finally gets what he has been wanting for ages but hes being all shy and weird about it, you were probably regretting your decision of sitting by him.

But geek!gojo was jumping and frolicking in joy in his head. YOU were sitting right beside him. You looked in his eyes, talked to him (even if he didn't say anything back) and is sitting by him for the rest of the film. He hops to god this film would never end.

"You are fine with me sitting here, right?"

you whisper again, eyes glues to his face, worried if Gojo is annoyed by you and thought you were overstepping his boundaries. This time he nodded his head 'yes' a little too fast, scared if he was hesitant you would leave. You gave him a quick smile before turning all your attention to the film. You smiled at him?! His fingers are already fidgeting with the desk, his tetris long and forgotten about.

its been about 4 minutes and geek!gojo wont stop geeking. He smiles to himself, leg bouncing up and down. His poor heart can't handle this.

He can tell you were bored out of your mind, he watched you pull out a peice of paper from your bag and start to... doodle?

He feels like a fake fan for finding out so late that drawing is one of your hobbies.

He desperately needs to see and praise every art work you've ever made, his eyes continously peek at your paper.

geek!gojo who immediately recognises the characters you drew. Kirby? Six from the game my little nightmares? Hello kitty doodles and stars everywhere. His heart melts, he loves your little style and finding out you share a few intrests of his make his heart bounce everywhere in his body. He is afraid he cant control his racing heart and only you can catch it.

"kirby" he says. It's all he says to you.

You two share an awkward silence, but Gojo can't back down now.

"Sorry i uhm i uh- i uhh" he stutters, he cant make the decision to look straight into your eyes or his fidgeting hands "uh i also like kirby. Although, i wouldn't grant kirby to be my favourite character from the kirby games, he is infact a good main character and i hold no dislike for him but i do find meta knight to be a much better character. Not for the main character lead, just in general, meta knight has a very intresting, cool character design and i find him to balance out the game correctly and appropriately. I think meta knights introduction to the game definitely holds-" He was interrupted by a giggle by you, your smile wider than ever. Hell, he never knew you could smile like that, all it does is make his hear flutter and face flustered. He got to be the reason you're giggling and smiling at him like that?

"I agree meta knight is awesome, although, i personally like waddle dee the most. His character design may be simple but i still-" Hearing you ramble on not only surprised him, but made him happier than ever. This entire time you truely was his dream girl? His headcanons about you were canon.

geek!gojo who got to talk to you for the rest of the lesson, quietly of course. You two talked about things you shared intrest in, and he talked about stuff he likes that you've never heard of. He loved how you would question stuff about his intrest, showed intrest in what he was talking about and actually listen to him. You cared for what he had to say about his useless stuff.

geek!gojo who paid attention to everything you say. When you hit him with a fun fact about something he already knows and thinks its bare minimum knowledge for real fan, he is acting like it’s all new to him. You talked about topics he never really knew of too, every word spoken by you made him fall for you deeper and harder.

geek!gojo who is now rambling on about you to Geto after Geto asked why he was so smiley over facetime.

"Idiot Suguru! You said i never had a chance with her, look at us now"

jealous!geto who immediately knew you and Gojo would hit it off if you guys spoke to eachother once. Spending time with you during the two week project let Geto realise how great the two of you would be together, yet, Geto wanted to... gatekeep you? Who knew Geto would start feeling something for you too.

note: i have much more to yap about, there WILL be a part 2

PART 1 | PART 2

@kivrumi do not steal / copy / reword / translate my work

[bialbovi]

I know I don't need a label to live but god do I feel miserable sometimes (paradoxically from the label and the unknown)

I am genuinely happy for my friends and their love but it is such a maze for me and maybe that's how it's supposed to feel

I've confused a friendship with what my ex friend considered "romantic" and I regretted it when I agreed to date, all this was resolved later because I confessed our feelings vary a lot

Thing is I do not feel miserable because I do not have a partner right now, absolutely not, I feel so happy because I get free time for myself and for my friends and other stuff and hobbies

I don't even want to date right now or anytime soon. And I still hang out with my friends and I am satisfied. Socially, I mean. But in the future I would love for it to work out with a future friend

I feel miserable because I am afraid that this label is going to fit way too well and I wish I was wrong. I wish I'll discover that I'm an aromantic who can feel romantic attraction just a little. for just like one person. it's scary because I don't know how it's supposed to feel

maybe I'm just an aromantic asshole who has suuuuuper unrealistic expectations, that could be the case as well

but... when would it ever stop me? I am well aware that we are all imperfect works in progress and I really want to think people are comfortable with me, or well most of them. I try to approach most people I meet, because gods I love meeting people and getting to know them, and if we establish trust we can talk about more complicated stuff and I am like down to. Because I cannot handle smalltalk constantly, we need to throw in some deeper thoughts and- and

I don't know

It just feels funny because out of all people why am I, the one who is (100%, I am so fucking sensitive) very sensitive and emotional and overthinking and overanalyzing and you know. It's funny that I'm the one who just doesn't get romantic attraction and if it happened to me like right now I'd be scared shitless. Because I don't want the chemistry of my brain to decide what I feel randomly. Like I know love from the first sight is most likely an overblown thing but also people somehow get magnetized and they just stick to each other and then just something happens. Maybe I just love everyone??? Maybe my problem is I want to have a relationship somewhere in the future but this someone has to be a friend first, but that's like the bare minimum?? That's how normal people would build a relationship, would they not?? (I mean you can date even if you know each other for a week but hey. trust issues)

It's also funny because I actually love fandom shipping, oh I love pairings so much, I love putting my own characters into relationships and I love it when some pairing clicks with my preferences. but like hell I don't even know what they are feeling and I am probably dooming the romance a little too much but I like poetic shit. I just wish. I experienced a fraction of this. but not right now because I'd be uncomfortable. I want to dissect my brain. We could argue that "Hey Albo you probably write them through the lens of friends with benefits" DING DING DING WRONG. well not entirely because it feels like how I view relationships in general is friends. with benefits. but not entirely but like??? this shit is so complicated. none of my ocs are officially friends with benefits lmao they and my favourits characters have "proper" relationships. Maybe the reason why I like pairings is my creative attempt to tap into something I have not experienced. and ofc these relationships are not perfect but that's what I love about characters and people and------

Maybe that means I am not a lost cause entirely? But like... I understand the deeper connection between people but I have not felt it if it makes sense. I can't come up with a metaphor you get me

But I cannot see myself in a relationship. And I really want to.

And I am well aware that relationships do not have to fit a structure or be stereotypical, it can be anything

But also..thinking about relationships still makes me want to prioritize my autonomy and it feels like a relationship takes so much of your time, and some type of force keeps people together for decades, even living together. "duh Albo that's what you do in a relationship, usually". I know! And I still dedicate time to my friends but it feels like getting into a relationship would be very restricting.... or maybe I am hoping for the only ideal unrealistic option again..... sigh

Even though I could keep living as I do now, for some reason I am afraid my friends are going to eventually prioritize their significant others. we should not go there right now

I just don't want to stay alone forever.

I know there are demisexuals but that's not my case entirely

and yes even though I think I still have the label bisexual somewhere every single time pride month arrives I put the green stripes on my accounts because well it stays consistent for now

and I am in my early 20's oops

what is wrong with me (rhetorical)

Aromantics who want a relationship are Valid

Aromantics who DON'T want a relationship are a Valid

Aromantics who hope to feel romantic attraction are Valid

Aromantics who feel a LITTLE romantic attraction are Valid

Aromantics who are romance repulsed are Valid.

Aromantics that enjoy sex are Valid

Aromantics who "Sleep around" are Valid

Aromantics who want kids are Valid

Aroaces are Valid

Allosexual Aromantics are Valid

Queer Aromantics are Valid

Hetro Aromantics are Valid

AROMANTICS ARE FUCKING VALID

[jovialsongdefendor]

"Sonamy is canon and sonic likes amy back! he is just shy!"

What. Uh. The claim that "Sonamy is canon and Sonic likes Amy back but is just shy" is a misconception because it lacks clear evidence in the games or official media that Sonic reciprocates Amy’s romantic feelings in a meaningful or consistent way.

Sonic’s interactions with Amy across the games show that he cares for her as a friend and ally, but there’s no solid indication that he sees her romantically. Sonic often dodges or avoids Amy when she expresses her romantic feelings. While this is played for comedic effect, it’s far from a sign of shyness. It suggests that Sonic may not share the same feelings or simply isn’t interested in pursuing romance. Sonic cares about Amy’s safety and well-being, but this aligns with his general heroic nature and how he treats his other friends (e.g., Tails, Knuckles, or even strangers). His protective attitude doesn’t necessarily imply romantic feelings. And that some fans doesnt understand.

The evidence that some fans showed is mostly mistranslations that sega of the wester side do it on purpose when in the japanese version, where sonic is originated created, the text is completly different. So yeah, the voice over where tails read the questions about sonic having feelings for amy in the sonic cd resume of amy being sonics love interest they are already spreading wrong information, so yeah. They are literrally spreading a lie the america sega when they dont have any power on it lol. (sonadow wiki next)

"If anyone uses this to claim that it is Sonic saying that he is calling Amy his girlfriend, that is misinformation/disinformation, they are lying and it shows that they don’t know how to read Japanese at all.

This sentence has nothing to do with Sonic calling anyone his girlfriend. And what is in the parentheses is not a part of the sentence, that is a personal interpretation of what the person thought of after mistranslating the sentence.

What the sentence says is this: “Sorry but, I find a girlfriend to be an inconvenience (burden or discomfort).” or “Unfortunately, a girlfriend is something that I don’t want to inconvenience myself with, you know.”

The sentence in Japanese: “あいにく, ガールフレンドには 不自由して いないもんでね”

If you take the sentence apart (which you can see on this website) you will see each word on it’s own to see the direct translation.

あいにく = Unfortunately or Sorry, but…

ガールフレンド = Girlfriend

不自由して = Doing Discomfort or Inconvenience

いない = (something along the lines of) Do not (when paired with 不自由して)

もん = Something/Person/Thing

でね = You know

Another thing to point out is that the sentence in Japanese does not have the word or meaning “have” in it. “Have” in Japanese would involve the character or particle “が.”

One more thing to point out is that with the incorrect translation, if Sonic was saying that, then it does not reflect in the game it is in, nor future medias where he runs away from Amy constantly (like in Sonic Battle) or considers her only a friend."

Even Ian sayed that amys love is one-sided and sonic considered her as a friend, nothing more. Everyone, including employess, are just lying to this point!

And even in the video down below sonic sayed that is nothing complicated, and she is just a important friend that can be difficult to handle sometimes.

"Oh, but sonic sounds like a boy with a crush"

NO. That doesnt mean necesarrily that he have a crush People claiming "he sounds like he has a crush" are basing their argument on subjective interpretation of Sonic’s tone of voice rather than the actual words he says. Tone can be influenced by many factors: Sonic might be playful, casual, or dismissive because he doesn’t see the topic as serious.

His tone might even reflect mild awkwardness—not because of romantic feelings, but because Amy’s affection can sometimes be overbearing or embarrassing for him. When Sonic curtly responds to questions about Amy (like saying she's "an important friend" or "nothing complicated"), some fans interpret his brevity as embarrassment or an attempt to hide his true feelings. However, this interpretation comes from the fan’s desire to see a romantic connection, not from what Sonic is actually communicating.

Without concrete actions to back up this tone, interpreting it as proof of a crush is a leap. So no, friends, not everything has to be romantic.

And even in the japanese sonic channel amy is still saying that she is a "self-proclamed" girlfriend so... yeah.

And about that some fans sayed that in sonic unleashed sonic gets sad because amy doesnt recognize him and walks away, more like sonic gets sad because with that form his friends couldnt even recognize him anymore and thinks he looks like a monster. that doesnt show that he likes her romantically. He is trying to adapt to his new form, so is understandable that he felts sad with his new form if a friend doesnt recognize him. And about sonic flirting with lady percival thing: bro, sonic is acting normal like he do with knuckles, tails and even shadow. what are you into bro.

[aventurineswife]

Reader has been away visiting their family members who happen to live in a different country (Modern au?). The visit was quite long, lasting for almost a month. They obviously kept in touch with their partner, sending them messages daily. Calling daily, and even fave timing and showing them what they were doing. But that didn't make the distance any harder. They missed their partners terribly and couldn't wait to be back with them. So imagine the surprise of their partner when the reader finally came back and earlier than the time they gave. That deserves a special kind of celebration, no? (Suggestive?) (Dang heng since you went crazy for him yesterday, Aventurine, Veritas, and Kaveh together, and you pick the last character!)

“Though Miles Apart, Our Hearts Were Always One”

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Kaveh x Reader x Ratio, Modern AU, Fluff, Romance, Reunion, Long-Distance Relationship, Suggestive Content, Emotional Intimacy, Established Relationship, Surprise Visit, Mild Angst (Missing Each Other), Humor (Light-Hearted Moments).

Warnings: Suggestive Themes (nothing explicit, but implied intimacy), Mild Emotional Angst (due to separation/missing their partner), Mention of alcohol (for Aventurine), Brief Depiction of Personal Insecurities(?).

A/N: SHHHH!! 🤭 I wish I could write smut...🧍‍♀️😪 Oh well

The night was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of rain against the windowpanes of Dan Heng's apartment. He sat in his room, surrounded by the comforting stillness he often sought after long days. His phone rested on the desk beside him, displaying your last message: "I’ll be home in a few days. Can’t wait to see you again, my love."

He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. Even though you had kept in touch with daily calls and messages, the physical absence weighed heavily on him. He missed your presence—the way you brought warmth and light into his world. He didn’t like to admit how often he lingered on your texts, scrolling through your photos, cherishing the sound of your voice in his memory.

The front door creaked open. Dan Heng froze. No one else had a key to his apartment. His heart quickened as footsteps echoed in the hallway.

And then he saw you, standing there, soaked from the rain but glowing with excitement. “I’m home,” you said softly.

Dan Heng stood abruptly, his usual composed demeanor slipping as he strode toward you. He stopped just short of touching you, as if afraid this was a dream.

“You’re early,” he murmured, his voice low.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” you admitted, stepping closer.

That was all it took. Dan Heng pulled you into his arms, his spear-like restraint shattered. He buried his face in your shoulder, his grip firm but tender.

“You should’ve called,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin.

“Wouldn’t have been a surprise then, would it?” you teased.

Dan Heng chuckled lightly—a sound you’d missed more than you realized. His hands slipped to your waist, his touch growing bolder as his lips found yours in a kiss that was all-consuming, filled with the longing of weeks apart.

The night stretched on as he showed you just how much he’d missed you, his usually reserved nature giving way to passion and tenderness in equal measure.

Aventurine lounged in his private suite, a glass of fine whiskey in one hand, his other idly twirling a poker chip. The city skyline stretched out before him, glittering like a sea of stars. His mind, however, wasn’t on his game or his drink—it was on you.

He sighed dramatically, tossing the poker chip onto the table. “What’s the point of winning if I can’t share it with my favorite lucky charm?” he muttered. Your daily calls had kept him sane during your trip, but they weren’t enough. He craved your presence, your laughter, the way you teased him for his flamboyance.

A knock on the door broke his reverie. Aventurine frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Rising with a lazy grace, he crossed the room and opened the door.

There you were, grinning like a gambler who’d just hit the jackpot.

“Surprise!” you said, throwing your arms around him.

Aventurine laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Darling, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he teased, pulling you inside. “Do you know how dull life has been without you? My games have been off, my drinks less sweet. But now…”

He spun you around, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Now, I think it’s time we celebrated properly.”

Before you could reply, he swept you into his arms, carrying you toward the plush couch. His kisses were slow and deliberate, each one more intoxicating than the last.

“You’re not leaving me again anytime soon, are you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Not a chance,” you promised, tangling your fingers in his hair.

The shared apartment was unusually quiet. Ratio sat in the library, a book in hand, while Kaveh paced the living room, grumbling about a design flaw in one of his projects. Despite their contrasting personalities, they had settled into a comfortable rhythm during your absence. Still, both men missed you dearly, their days feeling incomplete without your presence.

Kaveh sighed, flopping onto the couch. “Do you think they’ll call tonight?”

“They always do,” Ratio replied without looking up from his book.

But tonight, your call never came. Instead, the door creaked open.

Kaveh was the first to notice, his eyes widening in surprise. “Wait… is that—”

“Miss me?” you asked, stepping into the room with a grin.

Ratio’s book snapped shut as he stood, his eyes sharp with disbelief. “You’re early,” he said, his tone calm but his expression betraying his excitement.

Kaveh was less composed, rushing forward to sweep you into a tight hug. “You have no idea how much we missed you!”

Ratio joined a moment later, his touch more reserved but no less meaningful. “You should’ve informed us. We would’ve prepared something special.”

“This is better,” you said, pulling them both close.

Kaveh chuckled. “Guess we’ll have to improvise.”

The night that followed was a mix of laughter, teasing, and tender moments. Kaveh’s kisses were fervent and emotional, while Ratio’s were measured and intense, each touch and glance revealing how much they had missed you. Together, they made sure you felt the depth of their love, the three of you reunited in a harmony that needed no words.

[five-one-two-station]

@halfalive-chaos - Context

Oh BOY do I have some big giant feelings about this!

The short answer is yes, I think people/The Audience has forgotten this - but I also don't think it's entirely their fault.

Part of the reason I was really impressed by how Arcane used and executed the scene, and why I keep going on about it, is that this whole subject is kind of an ongoing concern of mine.

I very sincerely think that the documented decline of, not just sex, but horniness, in media has narrowed the spectrum of contexts we're used to seeing sex and sexuality happen in our storytelling, in ways that are doing us harm.

Because mainstream media has started shying away from engaging with sex to the degree that it has, sex is now almost invariably depicted in extremes - either "Aren't we edgy big boys now?" stuff like The Boys, or miserably sad traumatic drama grist - or else not at all.

And because "regular" tv has been scared off showing sex, it's vanishingly rare to see characters who are in love have sex, or to be sexual as an expression of that, certainly without some negative element to it.

That means we're almost never asked to think of it in terms of sincere, meaningful character communication, or as a storytelling mechanism, or ever presented with it in the context of a positive wider relationship.

I think the hazard of this is obvious - if our media and storytelling doesn't engage with healthy sex in that wider context, or use it purposefully, then we're conceding the whole conversation around it to porn, to novelty edgelordism, and grimdark miseryfests. Those things will define all our language and imagery around it, and the only time we'll ever see it will be upsetting, harmful or ugly. When it is easier to stumble across a scene of rape than it is to see a consenting woman orgasm, it's little wonder people can become reflexively suspicious of any sexuality at all.

But even when it's not so extreme as that, more often than not it's depicted as a casual fling instead, divorced from a bigger picture, or a distraction, an alternative to a grander and truer romantic interest. There's nothing at all wrong with sex for pleasure, don't misunderstand me, but it's odd that our media landscape has engineered a situation where depictions of sex in the context of a bigger love story almost never happen. It would seem then that we can have one or the other - sex or romance - but never at once.

And we're diminishing it with all of this. We're saying this incredibly important, intense, uniquely vulnerable and intimate feature of the human experience doesn't matter enough to talk about. We're saying that sex and love don't have any functional overlap. Even at best, we're pretending that sex isn't important in relationships, or increasingly, that the only good sex is... well... sexless. Sterile. Permissable and virtuous only when it's so "clean" and so perfect in circumstance that it becomes an unattainably impossible kind of ceremony.

The venue must be perfect. The characters must be not only unimpeachable, but historically and permanently so, and exactly as faultless as each other - they must be exactly the same social status, age, background, emotional state and situation. There can be no power imbalance or even a risked perception of one. No chequered history to leave behind, no overcome adversities, nothing that had to be learned. No transgressions to have been worked through, and comprehensively put to rest now.

Indeed, the moment must be so sublimely judged that it's unlikely to ever actually arise in a drama to start with; the characters must be in such a stable situation that there's no actual storytelling to be done here to warrant the scene occurring in the first place.

Which is convenient, because in this framework, the only unproblematic sex is the sex nobody can possibly have anyway. Because nobody can have "perfect" sex. That's not how it works - the fundamental nature of intimacy is taking each other for what you actually are, in all of the reality involved. If it can't be messy, it's not true.

All of this comes with extra points and splinters too when it comes to the matter of lesbian sex in particular, and the complicated history of how we've been either exploited for disposable male titilation, or else rendered chastely invisible by well intended feminists of all persuasions. We were already being presented with a sex or romance dichotomy, and never mind if either one worked.

It's a dysfunctional either/or. Asexuals & friends notwithstanding, physical intimacy is an incredibly important feature of the lives we spend together, and the bodies we live our lives in. And as much as we'd like to think we're all too cool and aloof for it, for most of us lust is impossible to entirely detach from sentiment, when it comes to the real people we form bonds with.

People falling in love want to fuck each other. People who are in love want to fuck each other. People fall in love in the process of fucking each other. It's not some abstract thing that happens in isolation to our feelings for each other.

I don't think it's good for us to perform such weird acrobatics to pretend none of this is true, whatever the reason for doing so; but that is effectively what modern media does.

And I think we're all poorer for it. We're poorer for missing out on the most private, intimately human kinds of moments in our stories that live in the space where love and lust can intersect. Because that's the only place those moments happen.

[rosesandrevivals]

Javier: I had been introduced to him by someone that had opinions of him already that she shared with me, so I had adopted a few of those mindsets, but generally the first thought was "Omfg this man is definitely bisexual." Followed with "He's cute and he can play guitar? <33"

Mello: Oh my god he's fucking cool? How do people not talk about him more

Konan: I had a friend that talked about her a lot, I thought she was DROP DEAD gorgeous. Still do <3

Misa: I always saw her online and stuff ofc, she's a pretty well known character, but good lord was I like "I need her to talk to me like that" anytime I heard clips of her talking to/about Light. I don't know how I thought I was straight

Raiden Shogun: Dude she terrified me. A bit dramatic but if you've played Genshin, the AURA in that scene in front of the statue? I was sitting there like 😨 (the gif isn't that, but it's close enough. Imagime this but she's coming at you with an intimidating walk)

Deidara: Pretty much the same as Javier. I was introduced to her (canon is a he, let me specify) through a friend sending gifs, I saw this mf and immediately ask if that's reallt a cis man. Immediate gaydar ring, because what.

THE EYELINER? THE HAIR, THE EXPRESSIONS, HER OBSESSION WITH THINGS BEING ART/BEAUTIFUL UGHHHH

Shenhe: In awe. I can't even explain that.

Sadie: I thought she was kind of a pathetic attempt at a 'female cowboy badass' because of how unimportant she was, but I thought she was pretty.

@ selfshippers what was your honest first impression of your main f/o

[briarberrythornedhart]

Haywire

Contains: Eddie Munson & Reader, fluff, sincerity, vulnerability, friends to something more

🦇 ✏️ 🦇

You were just friends. Just hanging out. And you’d thought there would be more people around tonight as human buffer BUT NO it was just you and him in his living room. And he was sitting so close it made you dizzy.

Ope.

He caught you staring. Your gaze was lovingly drifting over his stunning features and when he noticed you looking, his eyebrows shot up.

He waved his hand in a slow figure eight, wiggling his fingers - like he was casting some sort of spell on you.

Maybe he was casting a spell on you? It would explain a lot.

“You okay in there?” He laughed. He snapped the fingers of his left hand a couple times and you must have jumped because then he snorted “Sorry, sorry! You zoned out, though...like...you left me, where’d you go?” He grinned at you, head cocked to the side.

“I’d never leave. I mean I’m paying attention, What is the next step?” You asked, trying to re-focus and NOT on his lips, or his jaw, or the length of his thick pretty neck that you so wanted to kiss and lick and bite down on …oh gawd... how you wanted to taste him all over!

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Ya sure you wanna do this? Right now?? It’s okay if you are bored. This is not the fun part for most folks.”

“Yeah! NO - I’m not bored.” You clutched your notebook to your chest and regulated your breathing. No more yelling FFS you told yourself. ” I told you - I’ve wanted to play DnD for a long time and you know… never got a chance to even roll up a character. The stars just weren’t aligned for it I guess and the group near me didn’t want me in the mix....”

“Well, that’s not a problem here. There won’t be any of that bullshit on my watch. There’s Equal opportunity for doom or glory in Hellfire Club.” Eddie let the words doom and glory rumble in his chest. Theatrical as ever.

“Thank you.” You smiled and felt heat flush your cheeks.

“You’re so welcome, you always are.” he shook his mane of hair and chuckled again, wry and self-effacing. Which you would NEVER have expected from this guy. When you were introduced to him he was cocky as hell, strutting around and getting right into your personal space and teasing you like you’d been close friends forever and then - you get him alone like this- and he transforms into this sweet and modest and shy… total gentleman.

You were so completely fucked.

I mean, if only. You wished you were. But this was all so sadly gentlemanly and platonic.

He licked his lips and tapped his pencil on the DM’s guide while he pondered something seriously. Your mouth watered. And since he was so intently not paying attention to you- you took him in - looked him all over.

Your lips felt suddenly so dry and hot and his lips were the cure for every little thing that afflicted you, you knew this. That his perfect lips were the Answer. They were pink, slightly redder and chapped and plumped by his own teeth worrying at his bottom lip and… oh he was speaking to you. Focus.

“But maybe we should wait till later?? Because you seem very baked right now.” Eddie took your pencil away from you, grinning. Your pencil that had made its way (eraser first) between your lips and was getting bitten to hell. “Sweetheart, It was just a beer and we shared that joint…Did you not eat anything today??” He looked mildly concerned. “Do you want a snack or something? Coffee? I think we have Sanka in the cupboard… although what would be the point....”

You shook your head. No.

You didn’t admit it but You were not high. Or tipsy.

That was the thing. Eddie did this to you.

Yes, you’d faked taking that hit off his joint — hoping to look very chill about him offering you one. You’d barely taken a sip of the PBR he’d offered.

You Didn’t need any single thing to make you feel as high as THIS. When you had those big pretty eyes looking at you?? You were floating!

His lashes fluttered when he inhaled, held in the smoke, and then his eyes stared into your soul when he blew out (blowing away from your face - politely) and that just made you want to do unspeakably depraved things. For him. To him. On him.

“We could just… hang out.” Eddie said. “Plenty of time to make a character before next Wednesday and stuff.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. we don’t need to have an activity to be ummm together, you can just ride that wave you are on and I’ll... play guitar at you or something.” He looked down again and huffed almost a laugh. “Obviously you don’t want That, no one wants that, but we could watch a movie....”

The overhead light cast the shadow of his lashes down over his cheekbones.

“I’d like to hear you play and sing one of your songs.” You said.

“Oh no no no,” Eddie leaned backwards and put his hands behind his head, legs spread at the knees - making you long to climb into his lap “I don’t know who told you I can sing... but they were exaggerating... I can scream my lyrics in my less than an octave range.”

“But you are the frontman, you play and sing lead, right??”

“That’s only until we can get Gareth a better mic set up - he’s got a great voice - like an angel.”

“I still want to hear you.” You crossed your arms over your chest and nodded. “c’mon”

“You know what? I think I like this bossy side of you. Is this what happens when you loosen up a bit, you order people around?” Eddie smirked. “It makes me want to do whatever you say.”

“Really?” You asked, your mind reeling at the impossibilities.

“Yes.” Eddie’s tongue rolled over one canine tooth. He pointed at you. “Don’t use your power over me for evil.”

You may have gasped. Just a little.

“Or do.” Eddie scootched closer and his knee touched yours. “Just don’t get me in trouble.”

“Show me what you wear on stage.” You said. Well... demanded.

“It’s not that different than this...” He gestured down at his ripped jeans and his Anthrax T shirt under his gray hoodie. “No corpse paint, no tight leather - we’re thrash - more substance than style. Noooo, don’t look at me all disappointed...I’m just not fancy.” He rubbed his hands over his face.

“I’m not disappointed, i just really doubt you play your fancy red crackle finish guitar... in a gray sweatshirt.”

“Okay, I wear a tank top or something cropped because it’s hot as balls on stage and I pull my hair back sometimes or put my bandana on to keep the sweat from dripping in my eyes, that’s the sum total effort I put in okay? you don’t Really want to hear about me sweating my ass off, right?? Grossing you out, right?”

“No. are you gonna show me or not.”

“Yes. mistress, if you take that tone I guess I must.” Eddie slapped his thighs and stood, “Be right back.” He turned half way down the hall. “If you laugh, you gotta go. You’ll be out that door, high or not.”

He shook his head as he retreated down the hallway and then in a few minutes he emerged with his hair up in a loose bun.

He did a slow awkward turn for you. He was in a scissor cropped Megadeth shirt, with his pretty red guitar unfortunately, blocking your view of his stomach. As he turned you could ogle the curve of his back - see how his underwear - probably cotton boxers - were visible just above his jeans and belt.

“See.... not much to write home about. Functional, though. Practical.” He shrugged.

“You look hot.” you said. without thinking.

Eddie gave you an assessing look. “That’s probably the ganja talking. Or did you mean I look overheated, because yeah, it’s a little warm in the trailer but...”

For some reason this made you furious. “No. You look fucking hot, Eddie! You always look hot and I’m not fucking high. C’mere.”

His eyes went wide, he unslung his guitar and leaned it gently against a chair. “Okay... mistress.” He jumped over the coffee table and sat at the edge of the couch - leaning forward. Leaning towards you - at attention. “Any other demands?” he wasn’t being sarcastic though...

“At shows, you should crop your shirts higher, you should go commando under your jeans “ you snapped the elastic of his underwear. “…and you should not invite me over when no one else is around because apparently I go a little haywire when we are alone together.”

Eddie leaned in and kissed you. A kiss like spun sugar, ephemeral, impossibly sweet, and over too soon.

“I go a little haywire when you are near me too.” He said.

[channiesbakery]

yapper —

prompt / request — "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry."

pairing — reader + boyfriend!dino

word count — 561

genre — fluff

you and chan have a nightly routine that you liked to follow. you’d get ready for bed, freshening up and changing into comfy clothes before crawling into bed together.

you’d both have your nightly tik tok scroll— well, you’d scroll on your phone while chan watched along with you, questioning you about a current trend every few videos.

“what do you mean peeling an orange is a sign of love?” he questions when he sees the videos of people asking their significant others to peel oranges for them.

you explain the trend for him before he somewhat seems to understand. “I’d peel a hundred oranges for you,” chan says, kissing the top of your head before he’s silent for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.

“you okay?” you turn back to face him. “i wonder if my hyungs would peel an orange for me…” he mumbled mostly to himself.

it’s not long before you end up on seventeen tik tok, seeing all the edits and fancams.

“aw look at kwannie,” you show him the cute fancam. “why are you, my girlfriend, watching a seungkwan fancam and not one of your boyfriend?” chan scoffs before grabbing your phone to look for fancams of himself, making sure to give all of them likes.

after ending up on a weird side of tik tok, you decide that’s enough social media for the night, shutting off your phone and turning off all the lights.

chan’s chest is pressed against your back, his arm loosely around your waist as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

you always knew your boyfriend was a bit of a yapper, but his need for conversation just seemed to increase every time you’re about to fall asleep.

“do you think i should create a new character for the next gose episode?” he asks. “baby, i think you have more than enough alter egos.” you tell him, shutting your eyes and trying to fall asleep.

but the silence doesn’t last long before he’s starting another topic.

“would you love me if i was a worm– i could probably do the worm so much better if i was actually a worm.”

“that new cafe just opened in the city, we should go this weekend. i heard their matcha lattes are amazing.”

“do you think i should start a new hobby? maybe knitting… shua has all his crafty hobbies, maybe knitting could be mine.”

“actually… it seems like it takes too much patience and what if i stab my eye…”

“do you ever wonder why people count sheep and not other animals? like why not count chickens?”

you only mumble short responses to him as he switches topics nearly every other sentence.

he finally goes silent and you’re just about to finally drift off to sleep when chan speaks up once again. “are you still awake?” he whispers.

“no,” you grumble tiredly. “oh okay,” he replies and you think he’s finally going to go to sleep until you hear his soft voice again.

“hey baby?” he says softly and you just hum in response. “i love you,” chan mumbles against your hair.

“i love you too channie, but if you don’t stop yapping I’m kicking you out of bed and you’re sleeping on the couch.” you threaten.

[nightghoulz]

Headcanons for the Primarchs and tattoos

I’ve wanted to do this for a bit! Some are stereotypical. Some are my guesswork if it’s characters I don’t know as much on. :’)

Lion El’Jonson: oh fuck every time this guy comes up I’m clueless. Like I just know he’s secretive. I’m sorry to the big Lion fans. I either want to be funny and say he has a lion/clock/rose thing or somewhat serious and say a star map of some sort. Or something with a hidden meaning. Someone else can probably give him something better than I can lol.

Fulgrim: His wing pauldron thing is on him in some way, folded over his shoulder. Also has a snake somewhere on him, arm or a leg. Maybe both! He also gets the same tat as my OC so laurel wreath on his collarbones. Fulgrim also has a matching tattoo with Ferrus. It’s something smaller, like a little heart or smiley face on an ankle or wrist. His are all perfectly done with a ton of love put into them.

Perturabo: I don’t know him as well, but he probably has something for Calliphone. A flower or something more ‘delicate’ hidden on his chest so no one else sees it. Has those cool cybernetic sleeve things. I’d want to say the ruler tattoo on his thumb as well, but Dorn has that same one so they can argue over who was first.

Jaghatai Khan: Totally has a super decked out sleeve with all his legion symbols and meaningful things to him. Also probably has American traditional and/or wabori (or anything more bold like that) just for the fun of it.

Leman Russ: Huge wolf back piece I’m so sorry. But it’s really well done. I like making fun of him. Also has those Nordic runes on him. Maybe a moon as well but a certain someone else will get that too.

Rogal Dorn: I think he’d be really into it. I’m not sure if tattoos hurt primarchs, but this could be like his pain glove but more artistic. Someone talked him into it at some point and it stuck. I see him having sentimental things for the family that raised him as well as his legion. Also has some blueprints or functional thing. Has the same ruler tattoo as Perty which causes fights. I think it would be awesome if he’s just covered in them near the end.

Konrad Curze: oh no. I could make fun of him so much but he’s free (for now). I don’t think it’d be a huge focus for him, he has much bigger issues, but he’d have his legions symbol (skull with bat wings) on his chest, just like his armor. Probably has a few more things in the macabre style to cover up anything he’s impulsively done to himself cause idk what happens in those visions. Also they look cool as fuck so it’s cool for the sake of cool.

Sanguinius: Laurel wreath carefully by the base of his wings. Detailed tattoos that look almost like pretty jewelry draped over his shoulders. Everything is symmetrical. And since I heard he took the time to meet every one of his sons, he gladly shares a more symbolic thing with them. Also wondering if his blood would spread his gene flaw around lol (probably not but whatever) so every time it’s super sanitized.

Ferrus Manus: Dude has some cool hands that can change shape so I’ve decided that he can also make them have engravings. So he gets some cool engravings on his forearms/hands that are basically metal tattoos. As for the rest of him, there’s some callbacks to his favorite projects. Probably has a dagger or hammer or something on his back. Matching little heart or smiley with Fulgrim of course.

Angron: Are his red markings on his face tattooed on? I think they are painted but it would be cool if they were tattooed. As well as other marks like them on the rest of him. If he has a more artistic thing, it’s that stereotypical skull and smoke and knives sleeve that every character that serves gets lol. Maybe it would be a distraction from the nails.

Roboute Guilliman: He also has the laurel wreaths since I never ever see him without them. They get to be a tramp stamp since that’s fun. He’s too busy for a lot of this. Has the Latin/high gothic ribbons on him, also probably his collarbones and symmetrical. If any of his sons are bald enough, maybe they get the laurels on the sides of their heads (totally stealing that for a character later) as another badge of honor.

Mortarion: still don’t know him as well so perhaps I’ll just be stereotypical again and give him a bunch of skulls and stuff. Since he’s a smartie too, he has those things tied in as well. Like what plants kill people in a bundle. Maybe those snapdragons that look like emo skulls.

Magnus the Red: nerd ha ha. Okay for realsies, he has cool sorcerer spell stuff on him. And then some in the style of ancient Egyptian art (think hieroglyphics) that you’d see on monuments and tombs. He’s like a monument himself tbh. They look almost like jewelry at points.

Horus Lupercal: This is the astrology dude that has the moon phase tramp stamp or stereotypical spine moon one. His Mournival all some some variation of this too lol. Aside from that, like Lion, has star maps on his skin. Maybe they are subtle. They track his journey through the Great Crusade. Imagine tracing the paths between them (maybe I’ll have to write my first fic later uhhh whoops Ive given myself an idea!)

Lorgar Aurelian: dude is already decked out. There’s no space. He went bald for more space. If he does have space, he gets the gold laurels somewhere too.

Vulkan: bones. Either the dragon skull on his shoulder or something else, but it’s like a whole dig site. Also has flames going up his forearms and they seem to magically glow.

Corvus Corax: emo raven ha ha. But for real, everything with him is some poetic reference. He has a raven, but what is it holding or where is it looking? Towards East where the sun rises for fresh starts? What do the symbols on his arms mean?

Alpharius/Omegon: the tattoos seem to never stay the same. There’s always some slight difference, almost like it’s more than one person…. A line is slightly more jagged on the serpent monster up the arm.

Okay that took me an hour and I’m left with a bunch of ideas now.

[ramshacklerumble]

“What? It’s just bone meal.”

(i was minding my own business when this au appeared and grabbed me by the hair. thanks @quartztwst for this incredibly fun au. i love the energy of hunting azul ashengrotto for sport.)

i really liked the idea of ny!gia being an npc that isn’t for or against the happenings around ashengrotto, however quartz is able to unlock new murder and/or disposal options through them depending on how she interacts with gia. generally speaking, gia won’t sound an alarm if they catch something suspicious— however they will remember and this can affect their decisions. be wary though, it’s possible to create a negative dynamic with gia in which they will betray or actively become an enemy.

ITEMS:

Phone + Earbuds: Gia loves music and striking up a conversation about varying genres can help open up Gia— if correct dialogue choices are made, anyway. Oh, you listen to Napalm Jam Revengance? Name three songs.

Trowel: Gia spends much of their time tending to plants and so a trowel is often seen on their person. It’s oddly sharp.

Experimental Phials: Depending on what ingredients are brought to Gia, the rapport made with them, and if their interest has been piqued— Gia can be convinced to create varying substances to aid (or harm) Quartz. Gia appreciates a guinea pig. Willing or not.

Berries: You can eat these. Once.

Notebook: Gia’s notes on all plants and procedures they work on, as well as other secret journal entries. This notebook can be stolen by either Quartz or other characters— Quartz can choose to return the notebook, use it to create poisons herself (with a higher possibility of failure), or use it as blackmail to get Gia to work for her. Many different possibilities, though Gia assures there are far easier ways to die.

TRIVA:

Has a strange, volatile dynamic with Ashengrotto’s left hand man. No one is quite sure what it is, but they sure do interact.

A top ranking student

If Gia is befriended, they will actively cover for any suspicious activity or make up alibis instead of completely minding their own business

They can be convinced to use their experiments on others themself, although it’s easier to convince them to hand over what they made while they turn a blind eye to any following consequences.

Likes cute, kitsch items. Especially clown themed.

tag list:

@cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @tixdixl @winterweary @thehollowwriter @jovieinramshackle

@theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @kimikitti

@s-t-y-x @nightwingshero @water-writings @beneathsakurashade @oya-oya-okay @scint1llat3 (dm to be added)

[vanfleeter]

Performance Sheets

Summary: Jake misunderstood what performance sheets actually were when he buys them from the store. (Small smut piece) Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader Word count: 1,755k Warnings: 18+ || Language. Adult themes. Smoking. Smut. Nudity. Unprotected, penetrative sex. Slight strip tease. Smacking kink?? (is that a thing?) Oral sex. (if I missed anything, please let me know so I can add it) A/N: No tags since it's a small piece.

❌❌❌❌

Hearing the front door opening, you peer around the corner of the kitchen threshold to see Jake stumbling through the door with grocery bags hanging on each arm and he’s kicking a couple more with his feet. Dropping the dish towel, you quickly make your way to him and pick up the bags from the floor. He utters a breathy ‘thank you’ as he follows behind you to the kitchen.

“What did you buy?” You ask as he dumps the bags onto the kitchen island. “The whole store?”

“Pretty much,” He huffs. “We’re practically bone dry in this house.”

“Well, we have been gone for six months,” You say as you start to put away some of the groceries. The two of you dip and dodge around each other for the next twenty minutes putting the groceries away.

“Oh!” Jake randomly exclaims as he picks up a bag that had fallen to the floor. “I found these in the home section.” He pulls out a pack of sheets from the bag and holds them out for you to see.

“Performance sheets? Jake, we don’t need those.” You say as you put away the last can of spaghetti-o’s in the pantry. “We have many sets of sheets.”

“But not performance sheets.” He empathizes as he sets them on the counter.

“Jake, honey, do you even know what performance sheets are for?” You ask, leaning on the island counter.

“Per..for..ming sheets?” He says slowly. “As in you “perform” on them?”

“Oh honey no,” You giggle while shaking your head. “They help to regulate body temperature and keep you comfortable while you sleep.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow and he leans on the counter. “So they aren’t for…” You shake your head and he huffs. “Which means I spent sixty dollars on this for nothing?”

“Sixty? Jake..”

“What?!” He exclaims. “I thought they were–”

“Why in the world would Target sell sex enhancing sheets?” You continue to giggle.

Jake shrugs his shoulders. “Do you know who does?”

“Jacob..”

He simply laughs and grabs the sheets in both hands before tossing it up into the air and catching them when they fall. He smirks at you and wags his eyebrows. “Shall we change the meaning of performance sheets?”

“If you put them on, I will gladly fulfill your request.”

“Aw thanks baby,” He says as he kisses you. “Give me twenty minutes tops and then you are all mine.”

“When am I not?” He shoots you a wink before dashing out of the kitchen and running upstairs to the bedroom.

–

Twenty minutes tick by and you hear him calling for you from upstairs. Putting the last of the dishes away in the dishwasher, you close the door and press the start button before making your way upstairs. When you step into the bedroom, you’re suddenly taken aback as you find him laying out on the bed on his back, fully naked and propped up on the pillows with his legs crossed at his ankles. He’s got a blunt in his mouth that he’s trying to light, his focus solely on that. So when he finally looks up, he sees you standing in the bedroom door with your mouth hanging open. A lazy smile spreads across his face as he holds the blunt between his teeth.

“Enjoying the view?” He asks, pulling you from your trance. He chuckles when you only nod your head. You start to take a step forward when he stops you. “Uh uh.. You know the rules..” He says before tossing the lighter over onto the nightstand and taking a drag from the blunt.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes because you wanted him to undress you. So you stand there at the end of the bed and start to remove articles of clothing from your body. His eyes watch every single movement and you could see him swallow as his eyes lock with yours. You know he’s struggling to hold himself back so you take your sweet time dragging your underwear down your legs. His mouth drops slightly open, the blunt sticking to his dry lips.

Straightening back up, you reach your hands behind your back and unhook your bra. The relief from the uncomfortable under garment makes you moan, dropping your head back.

“Fuck..” You hear him mutter.

Dropping your bra to the floor, you swing your knee up onto the bed and hoist yourself up. You crawl across the bed and straddle his waist once you make it to him. His hands immediately find their rightful place on your ass. You take the blunt from his mouth and take a drag before giving it back to him. He reaches for it to take a drag before reaching over to the side and setting it on the tray on the nightstand.

“You look so beautiful,” He says as he squeezes your ass. “Are you ready to put on a show?” You nod your head and he draws you in for a kiss. Without breaking the kiss, you lift your body upwards and reach between you two to line him up with your entrance. You slowly sink back down, completely enveloping him inside of you.

You both moan into each other’s mouth and he squeezes you even tighter. Slowly you begin moving your hips and pulling away from his kiss. Your hands come to rest on his chest to keep yourself steady and you start to pick up your pace just a little.

“That’s it, baby..” He says.

He lets you ride him for a few minutes longer before he’s changing positions. He keeps you on him as he wraps his arms around you and moves to sit on his knees. He spreads them open allowing him to be seated comfortably with you still on his lap. He keeps his arms wrapped around you to hold you in place and he thrusts his hips forward, fucking himself into you as you sink right back down on top of him. He connects to you with each thrust of his hips.

“Are you enjoying this?” You ask, clearly out of breath already.

“Most definitely, baby..” He says.

Starting to feel his thighs cramping, he quickly changes positions again, laying you on your back, your head facing the end of the bed. He rests still between your legs and straightens them out.

“Sorry..” He groans. “Started to cramp.” You can't help but to giggle and he pauses. “Are you laughing at me?”

“You just sound like an old man.” You giggle again and he thrusts himself roughly inside of you, making you gasp yet moan at the same time.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for an old man..”

“Jacob Thomas, I do not!” You say, reaching behind him to smack his ass.

“Oh baby, don't do that..” He says.

“Did that feel good?” You ask.

He nods his head and fucks into you again. “Do it again?”

“Oh?” This you were not expecting.

“Please baby, do it again.”

You slap your palm against his ass again and he moans as he thrusts inside of you again. He buries his face on the crook of your neck as he moves a little faster. He’s sure there will be a red handprint on his ass but he doesn’t care, the feeling it gives him is like euphoria.

Before either of you even reach your orgasms, he’s pulling out of you and leaning back on his knees. He pulls you onto his lap again but makes you face the end of the bed. He doesn’t waste time pushing himself back inside you and beginning again. You cry out his name when he shoves himself so deep that he’s hitting your cervix. There is some pain but the pleasure of him rubbing against your walls is far greater.

You can feel yourself coming closer and closer to your orgasm as he continues his relentless speed. Your walls clench around him and he groans, his fingers digging into your hips.

He’s never had you in this position before but it’s definitely becoming one of your favorites. And he knows your favorite positions. You can feel his hands glide up your sides before he’s cupping both of your breasts. The stimulation from him twisting your nipples combined with his thrusts is enough to send you crashing into your orgasm. He holds you against his chest and he stills himself inside of you to feel you spill all over him.

Once you have relaxed and come down from your orgasm, you carefully climb off of him and lay out on the bed. He chuckles and leans down to kiss you.

“You did so good for me.” He says as he begins to trail more down your body.

“You’re still going?”

“These are performance sheets.” He says with a wink.

Gently he spreads your legs and leans in to lick up all of the release that still drips out of you. You shudder when you feel his tongue lick over your sensitive clit but he pins your hips to the bed to keep you still while he still licks you clean. Once he is finished, he crawls back over top of you and presses his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. He’s still very much hard, his length rubbing against the inside of your thigh.

“Want to try a new position?” He asks when he pulls away.

“Jacob Thomas, what has gotten into you?”

“Changing the definition of performance sheets, darling..” He smirks. “Plus I did a little research while I changed the sheets.”

“Alright, and what do you have in mind?”

“The eagle position.” He says. “How far back can you bend your legs?”

–

When he finally orgasms, he pulls out of you and moves his arms allowing your legs to drop back to the bed. Both of you are completely spent and covered in sweat. He kisses you before rolling off of you and onto his back beside you.

Your heart races in your heart, the thrumming of it is the only sound that you hear. Turning into his side, he props himself up on his elbow, resting his head in his hand.

“So.. How did I do?” He asks. “Did I perform well?”

You laugh, making him smile. “You definitely gave performance sheets a whole new meaning..” You tell him. “I’m going to need a day or two to recover.”

“I can just see the standing ovation..” He jokes, laughing again when he sees you roll your eyes.

[cheeseatlantic]

i made a fort, idc that im old. i love my fort!!!! so you guys should too 🤷

HOLD THE FORT DOWN

It started with a rainy day and too much downtime. You were curled up on the couch, engrossed in a book, when Johnny sauntered in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. That look was always trouble.

“You look bored,” he said, plopping down next to you, way too close for someone who clearly had an ulterior motive.

“I’m not,” you replied, not even glancing up.

“Well, I am,” he said, his accent thickening as he stood up with exaggerated flair. “We’re makin’ a fort.”

You blinked up at him. “What?”

“A fort,” he repeated, already grabbing cushions from the couch. “Ye know—blankets, pillows, the whole deal. Best way to pass the time.”

“Johnny, we’re not ten.”

He shot you a mock-offended look. “Speak for yerself. I happen to have the heart of a bairn.”

“And the attention span of one too,” you muttered, but he was already dragging the coffee table closer, tossing blankets over the top like a man on a mission.

Within minutes, the living room was transformed into a chaotic masterpiece of mismatched sheets, cushions, and a couple of chairs he’d commandeered from the kitchen. Johnny crawled inside, peeking his head out with a grin. “Well? Ye comin’ in or what?”

Sighing, you set your book down and crawled into the fort. It was surprisingly cozy, lit by the faint glow of a string of fairy lights he’d apparently swiped from somewhere. “Alright, I’ll admit it—this is kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” He scoffed, pulling a bag of snacks from who-knows-where. “This is a masterpiece. A marvel o’ modern engineering.”

You laughed, leaning back against a pile of pillows. “Alright, architect, what’s the plan now?”

“Movies, obviously.” He held up a tablet triumphantly. “And snacks. Oh, and absolutely no leavin’ the fort. It’s sacred ground now.”

“Sacred, huh?”

“Swear it on ma honour,” he said, completely serious—until a chip fell from his hand, and he scrambled to catch it like his life depended on it.

The two of you spent the rest of the day cocooned in your little fortress, watching ridiculous movies and laughing at Soap’s running commentary. By the time the rain stopped, you couldn’t even remember why you’d thought this was a silly idea in the first place.

“See?” he said, grinning as he popped another chip into his mouth. “Told ye this was genius.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky I like you, MacTavish.”

He grinned wider. “Aye, I know.”

give me characters to do random shit on! i love taking requests, literally abuse tf out of my inbox if you want :)

[fuschiarulerinthebluebox]

Honestly this is one of the things I like about Rook, they’re NOT qualified for any of the things they’re doing. Like yeah they’ve got some background qualifications but they’re pretty average, just a normal person thrown into trying to save the world. They’re just a little guy ™ who’s personable and pretty solid at planning and utilising the skill sets of people around them (and frankly that’s a deeply undervalued skill in itself, like if you’ve ever had a bad project manager YOU KNOW how big a difference it can make). And let’s be clear, if you’re only picking the generic dialogue options it’s obviously going to feel like Rook has no fucking clue, the faction/background options add so much flavor, I love the little moments where Rook gets to nerd out with the rest of the group. Some of them definitely feel more impactful (looking at you Mourn Watch) but they absolutely allow Rook to speak peer to peer and be competent. But it’s not like the professionals know what they’re doing all the time either, just look at Lucanis at Weisshaupt.

I’ve seen a lot of really interesting takes, my fav is from @fanfoolishness, that even though no one directly addresses Varric’s death with Rook, they’re supportive/ hold space in their own ways (eg. Neve at the Wall of Light, Emmrich in the gardens, Davrin just taking a walk, Bellara having Rook help her light the braziers for Cyrian, Lucanis having Rook help plan the funeral). And navigating a death that big is hard even if you know someone really well, I do wish they had spent a little more time processing that after Rook figures it out but I get why they didn’t as far as timeline. My first play through was MW and I definitely had a moment of “oh no, I haven’t done any rites for Varric”. I do really like the head cannon/ theory that Solas inadvertently tied a little piece of Varric to Rook when he did his little blood magic nonsense, and Rook really is seeing some echo of him.

Along those same lines, as much as I love petting Assan and playing rock paper scissors with Manfred, I wish they had let Rook interact with the party more at the lighthouse outside of the special conversations. Rook in a lot of ways does act like the group therapist, and I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. Can it be a little tedious as the player? Yeah, but for the characters it’s a natural progression of trusting what is essentially your coworker to becoming friends you rely on. Then there’s the twisted funhouse mirror of this same progression with Rook and Solas, going from almost-enemies to not-totally-truthful confidants and then unlikely-unsteady-forced-proximity allies.

I think at its core, Rook feels like a companion to all these “Main Characters” because Varric chose someone like him. Someone who is kind and helpful (see also: all those complaints you can play a mean/evil Rook), makes goofy jokes, listens to the people around them, and isn’t necessarily a hero but can make those hard choices if they need to. And yeah at a meta level it could just be poor writing or the game having been worked over by so many changes over a decade, but if we the player trust Varric we have to remember that Varric and Rook have been traveling together for more than a year and Varric trusts Rook. Rook is leading because Varric trusts them to do what’s right, not because they’re the absolute best at everything, not because they’re a hero. Trust.

This was probably way longer than it needed to be and rambled a little a lot , but I do think it’s a pretty solid game especially after so many revisions, and keeps the souls of a Dragon Age game.

What’s really jumping out at me on my second playthrough is that the writers of the first three games understood that your character was the main character. The Veilguard writers clearly thought that the main characters were their characters, the companions.

Every scene is about setting the companions up as cool or competent or sympathetic. Often, this is done at Rook’s expense. The companions get all the witty one-liners; Rook’s attempts at humor not only frequently fall flat, but are frequently called out for falling flat (even when they’re completely automatic and the player has no say in them).

The companions have all the knowledge and skills; Rook just brought them all together and gives them all pep talks so they can focus. I’m trying to edit out all of the comments where Rook is like “Um… what????” from my videos, and let me tell you, it takes WORK. There are A LOT of them. I can count on one hand the number of times when the Inquisitor or Hawke comes across as dumb, but it seems to be a built-in, unavoidable part of Rook’s character. I have not selected a single “purple” option in all of Act 1, and Rook is still coming across as the kid who tries to be the class clown to cover for the fact that he’s always confused. Rook’s role in most scenes is to say “Uhhh… what?” so that the companions look smart.

Rook is always the one offering sympathy and never the one getting it. No one actually comes to comfort you after Varric’s death. No one asks you how you’re feeling about having to lead the team now that Varric is gone. No one tries to reassure you or give you advice for dealing with the trickster god haunting your dreams. We’re told that Neve could keep Solas out of your head, but she never actually offers to do this for you. No one comforts a Shadow Dragon Rook when Minrathous is destroyed or a Grey Warden Rook when Weisshaupt is destroyed. Rook’s problems don’t matter. Only the problems of main characters matter.

Rook is a secondary character in their own story.

[aventurineswife]

Yooooooo self-aware HSR AU!!!

I would LOVE to know what some characters might think of Reader constantly battling the 50/50s (like how the HSR VAs get together and pull on the banners) with a side of the gacha seemingly favoring Bronya. 😅🤣

Off the top of my head, probably the worst one could be when Reader lost more than seven 50/50s in a row. (Based on past experience. 🫠) And not too long ago, they tried to pull for Sunday when his banner was running and when they saw the Harmony symbol—

—well…no points for guessing who showed up in his place. 😅

And then Reader ended up going all the way to max pity.

Reader: “IS THIS KARMA FOR RUNNING HIM OVER WITH THE ASTRAL EXPRESS!??!?!?!??!”

LMAOOO THIS IS GOLD. 😭😭

Okay, so here's how I think it would happen 🤭 (might not be accurate to the characters, plus idk much about pity and stuffs but I tried from the knowledge I got from yt shorts lol)

Bronya, being the gacha queen, might definitely notice how she keeps showing up in your pulls—especially when she’s not the one you’re aiming for. At first, she’d be gracious, “You’ve summoned me again. I can only assume it’s because you trust in my abilities to lead us to victory.”

But after, like, the fifth time, even she starts getting suspicious. “Is this… intentional? Or is this fate…? Regardless, I’ll fulfill my duties, as always.”

(Meanwhile, March is trying so hard not to laugh in the background: “Bronya AGAIN? You’re doomed!”)

Seven losses in a row, though? That’s when Himeko and Welt step in with some serious concern. “Seven? I’d say the odds are against you, but that’s… statistically impossible. Are you sure the stars aren’t just playing with you?”

“Perhaps this is a reflection of the balance you must maintain across dimensions… or you’re simply cursed.” (Thanks for the pep talk, Grandpa...)

Meanwhile, Silver Wolf is like, “You’re fighting against an algorithm. That’s your first mistake.” And then she offers to “fix” it for you (she can’t, but she enjoys messing with your hopes).

The Harmony symbol flashes, your heart soars, and then… Bronya. AGAIN. The absolute audacity.

Reader: “WHY WON’T YOU LET HIM COME HOME!?”

Bronya, oblivious to your suffering, “I will stand by your side, no matter the circumstances. Was this not what you intended?”

Everyone else is just dying. March is clutching her stomach “HAHAHA you were trying to pull for Sunday, and you got Bronya? AGAIN? Oh, I’m gonna cry—this is too good!” (she would definitely take pictures of you suffering.)

Dan Heng would try to be supportive, offering his trademark calm wisdom, “Perhaps it’s better to focus on what you do have. Bronya is an asset in any situation.” But even he can’t fully hide the slight twitch of amusement at your misfortune.

Now the real kicker: when you lose another 50/50 for Sunday and start yelling about karma for running him over with the Astral Express. EVERYONE stops.

Sunday, if he somehow hears this, “...You… WHAT?” (i kinda wanna hc that these characters aren't actually present during the fights/battle scenes.)

The Trailblazer looks at you like you (more like your screen) just committed war crimes.

Meanwhile, March is choking on her drink, “Wait, you RAN OVER HIM? Like, with the ACTUAL EXPRESS? And now he won’t come home? That’s… yeah, that’s fair, actually.”

Even Himeko raises a brow, “Well… actions do have consequences, as they say.”

You’d swear you hear Kafka’s voice somewhere in the distance, smirking, “Seems like fate is toying with you. What a fascinating little game you’ve got going.”

By the time you hit max pity, the entire Astral Express crew has started following your pulling rituals. March has a notepad, “Alright, you’ve hit 79 pity. This next pull is gonna be the one, I feel it—oh… wait. Nope. That’s another Bronya.”

Pom-Pom is pacing nervously in the background, muttering, “At this rate, the economy of our inventory is going to collapse.”

When you FINALLY pull Sunday, the whole group cheers like it’s a world event. Dan Heng, however, just calmly says, “Perhaps you’ve learned not to anger the stars. Or… the train.”

At the end of it all, Bronya might start feeling awkward about always showing up. If you mention your struggles, she’d quietly apologize, “If I’ve interfered with your plans… I am sorry. I only wanted to be of help to you. Perhaps the stars are telling us something we don’t yet understand.” (Translation: she’s just as confused as you are.)

This AU would honestly be too much fun. Every pull would feel like an event for the Astral Express, and I can already imagine March becoming your emotional support bestie through it all. 😭🙏