#drawn using feather and ink

[probably-just-a-cat]

[nyao-mi]

NOT MY ASTARION BRAIN ROT CONTINUING CUS LIKE i just got the scene where he literally says he misses seeing his face and that like he wishes he knew what he looked like and i??? WANTED SO BADLY FOR IT TO BE AN OPTION TO DRAW HIM

LIKE IMAGINE STARING AT HIM ACROSS THE BONFIRE, watching the way the light dances across his pale skin. youve been through hard times and one of the things you've learned to get through it was to draw

at first, you loathed the fact that you had to paint rich people for mere couple pieces of gold when you knew your art was worth more than that. you loathed even more that they'd upturn their posh noses at you and scoff when, truly, they knew what a treasure your art was.

now, seeing astarion, the way his white hair seemed to almost form a halo around his head, reflecting the moonbeams that graced his body, watching as he crossed his legs and meditated; you knew that you didn't regret a single second of the trials and tribulations that led you to this point.

you could finally put this agonizing skill to use. you could draw him.

and so you scrounged up some paper, an ink well, a quill; all things you'd pocketed during your adventures with the rather willful vampire.

you sat there, nib of the quill scratching against the parchment.

your art was nothing compared to the paintings you'd done before; these were mere lines and ink blots. you wished you could truly show him how beautiful he was through water color or pastels. instead, trapped in a land you barely knew, all you could do for him was this.

he had his eyes closed, of course, so you drew them from memory. strikingly red, like rubies, like blood. you didn't forget his crow's feet; you loved the way they wrinkled when he laughed. you shaped his lips, soft but rough from years of bite and chew, and formed it into his infamous mischievous grin.

his hair always seemed unruly but, drawing it now, it felt like drawing gorgeous chaos; there was an order to it, the way the bangs fell across his forehead, the way the sides feathered in front of his ears and curled behind them.

when you stopped, you realised you'd drawn him over and over, across several pieces of parchment.

the way he frowned and his fangs would glance across his lips. the way he'd look confused and his eyebrows would furrow. the way he'd look longingly at the stars, mind distant and eyes almost empty, like he'd made so many wishes that were never granted by the cosmos.

you never liked tooting your own horn but you felt like you truly captured him.

so, you took your pieces of paper, all drawings of him, dozens of them, small and sketchy; you took it all and you sat beside him and spread them out in front of you.

it took him a second to realise you were there. he'd been letting his guard down recently, especially when you were on watch duty, and it took you laying your head across his shoulder for his eyes to flutter open.

he opened his mouth, like there had almost been a retort slipping off his tongue, but the sight of your drawings stopped him.

he let out a ragged breath, eyes flickering across all of them. his clawed hands hovered in the air, trembling, as if taking a hold of the drawings would make them crumble under his touch.

and perhaps, in his head, he really believed they would.

'darling,' he'd call you, his voice wet with unshed tears 'what's all of this?'

of course he'd still joke. it was how he coped with things. he joked to hide how he truly felt and, of course, you were always there to understand.

'it's you,' you answered a matter-of-factly, as if you hadn't just turned this vampires world upside down 'its you the way i see you.'

and that's what makes him crack. because maybe, since you were the one that drew all of it, you hadn't noticed. but he noticed.

he noticed all the love and devotion you spilled across the page. every single detail, every single stroke, it was all from love.

and as someone who had never been on the receiving end of it, astarion cracked and he hid his face into your neck and he cried.

they were soft sobs, almost unnoticeable. but he cried nonetheless.

he cried for his past that he'd lost under his sadistic master, he cried for his difficult present that seemed impossible to escape, and he cried for this hopeful future you seemed to lay out in front of him.

he cried because he didn't realise that he had this much hope left inside of him. because he didn't know what else to do in the face of your devotion.

you just sat there, humming and rubbing his back, ignoring the way his arm wrapped around your waist, claws digging into your skin as if you'd disappear in front of him if he didn't hold on to you as tightly as possible.

[buckets-and-trees]

Naughty thought, buuut : tattoo artists Ari and Curtis loving to create on your body, but not all permanent tattoos. Instead they write on your body. Sweet things like "beautiful" or "ours". But also... Nasty things. 😈 "Cum here" or "Owned toy" or a count of how many times they filled you.

Worship In The Bedroom Characters/Pairings: Ari Levinson x curvy female!Reader x Curtis Everett Word Count: 3.3k

Content/Warnings: explicit smut (mfm threesome, kissing, vaginal fingering, anal play, nipple play, vaginal intercourse, anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cum play, cum eating, praise kink, dirty talk, light degradation, pet names (beautiful, sugar), body art

Author Notes: For the sixth week of Chris-mas... If you only care about the smut, go ahead and read - it can reasonably stand alone. If you want context and full resonance for the relationship, read the first two parts in the series.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

As the first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, you stir awake, your body pleasantly sore and your mind stirring with memories of the night before. The warmth of two bodies pressed against you brings a smile to your face before you even open your eyes.

You blink slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light. Curtis is on your left, his muscular arm draped over your waist, his face peaceful in sleep. Ari is on your right, propped up on one elbow, already awake and watching you with a tender smile.

"Good morning, beautiful," Ari murmurs, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“G’morning,” you murmur, smiling back. This is the third weekend you’ve spent with the men, but the first night you’ve stayed over.

You stretch languidly, careful not to disturb Curtis. As you do, you notice an odd sensation on your skin - a gentle tickle, almost like a feather being drawn across your flesh. You look down and gasp softly in wonder. Delicate lines of ink dance across your skin, intricate patterns and swirling designs covering your arms, chest, and stomach. The artwork is mesmerizing - a temporary masterpiece etched onto your body.

The soft tickle you felt was Ari, adding to the artwork with a fine-tipped marker. Ari chuckles at your reaction. "We got a bit carried away last night," he explains, his voice low and warm. "When you fell asleep, we just couldn't resist."

You trace a finger along one of the designs - a delicate spray of flowers blooming across your hip. As you follow the lines, you notice how they flow seamlessly from one design to the next, creating a cohesive tapestry across your body.

"It's beautiful," you whisper, awe evident in your voice.

Curtis stirs beside you, his ice-blue eyes blinking open slowly. He takes in the sight of you covered in intricate designs and a slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face.

"Morning, sugar," he rumbles, his voice husky with sleep. His hand traces one of the designs on your stomach, sending a shiver through you. "Like what we’ve done with you?"

You nod, still mesmerized by the artwork adorning your skin. "It's incredible," you breathe. "I can't believe you did all this while I was asleep."

Ari chuckles, continuing to add to the design on your arm. "You sleep deep. This isn’t the only thing we did to you."

You gasp and Curtis squeezes your hip and hums in satisfaction.

Then Curtis props himself up on one elbow, mirroring Ari's position. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every line and curve of the temporary tattoos. His fingers trace a particularly intricate design on your ribcage, intertwining with your nearly healed new tattoo.

"These aren't just any markers," Curtis explains, his voice low and gravelly from sleep. "We used special body art pens designed for long-lasting temporary tattoos. They're made with a unique, skin-safe ink that bonds with the top layer of your skin."

Ari picks up from there with, "The designs will stay vibrant for 10 to 12 days, gradually fading as your skin naturally exfoliates. It's like having a whole new set of tattoos, but without the commitment or healing time."

Your eyes widen in surprise and delight. The idea of carrying their artwork on your skin for nearly two weeks sends a thrill through you. You imagine going about your daily life with these intricate designs hidden beneath your clothes, a secret reminder of another incredible night. And them.

Curtis's hand slides up your torso, between your breasts, following the lines of ink. "We wanted to mark you," he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. "To leave our mark in a way that would last a little longer."

Ari nods in agreement, adding a few final touches to a design on your shoulder. "Plus," he adds with a mischievous grin, "we couldn't resist the opportunity to turn your entire body into our personal canvas."

You raise up on your elbows to gt a better look at the artwork on your stomach, over your hips, and down your legs. The designs are intricate and beautiful, a blend of both men's artistic styles covering vast expanses of your exposed skin. You gasp when you register the filthy words they’ve written in the prettiest script. Slut and Pretty Holes and Cockworshipper and Property of Curtis & Ari with the most elaborate ampersand you’ve ever seen.

Your cheeks flush at the implications and the memories of the night before, accompanied by a renewed awareness of the pleasant soreness between your thighs. Flashes of the night before fly through your mind - hands exploring, mouths devouring, bodies intertwining in ways you never thought possible. The intensity of it all makes you shiver with renewed desire.

Curtis notices your reaction and smirks, his ice-blue eyes darkening with hunger. "Remembering last night, sugar?" he murmurs, his hand sliding down your stomach to rest on your hip.

You nod, biting your lip as heat pools in your core. "It was unreal," you breathe.

Ari chuckles, setting aside the marker and running his hand along your thigh. "And we're not done with you yet," he purrs, his voice low and full of promise.

Your breath hitches at Ari's words, excitement and anticipation coursing through you. Despite the soreness, you find yourself craving more.

Curtis leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "What do you say, sugar? Ready for round... what are we on now? Five? Six?" His voice is low and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "I... yes," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling slightly with desire.

Ari grins, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "That's our girl," he purrs, his hand sliding up your inner thigh. "Always so eager for more."

Curtis captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing your gasp as Ari slips two fingers in your cunt.

You moan into Curtis's kiss as Ari's fingers expertly work your sensitive flesh. The dual sensations of Curtis's demanding lips and Ari's skilled touch quickly reignite the fire in your core. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction against Ari's hand.

Curtis breaks the kiss, his ice-blue eyes dark with desire. "So responsive," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. His hand cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple, causing it to harden into a tight peak.

Ari's fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes you see stars. "Still so wet for us," he purrs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "I bet you could take us both right now."

Your breath catches at Ari's words, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through you.

Curtis's eyes darken with hunger as he watches your reaction. His hand slides down your body, joining Ari's between your thighs. "Think you can handle it, sugar?" he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.

You moan as Curtis's fingers circle your clit, working in tandem with Ari's thrusting fingers. The dual stimulation has your hips bucking, seeking more friction.

"Yes, always want you," you manage to gasp out between pants of pleasure.

Ari grins, then nips at the inner flesh of your thigh, making you yelp. Curtis then smacks your clit, and you yelp again.

The sting of Curtis's slap on your sensitive clit sends a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, making you gasp and arch your back. Curtis takes advantage of your movement, his mouth latching onto your breast, tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking hard.

"Fuck," you moan, your hands tangling in their hair, not sure whether to pull them closer or push them away as the sensations overwhelm you.

Ari’s fingers continue to move in and out of your cunt, stretching you further as he adds a third digit.

"That's it, beautiful," Ari growls, his ice-blue eyes intense as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "Let us hear you."

Curtis releases your nipple with a wet pop. His blue eyes are dark with lust as he looms close to your face again and then licks a messy stripe up your neck and over your face. Then his lips brushing against your ear. "We're going to wreck you," he growls, his voice low and gravelly. "Fill you up completely."

Your body trembles with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation as Curtis and Ari continue their sensual assault. Their hands work in tandem, fingers probing and teasing the most sensitive areas of your body with practiced skill.

Ari's fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "You ready for us?" he purrs.

You whimper, your hips bucking against their hands. The thought of being so thoroughly filled by both of them sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. "Please," you gasp, your voice breathy with need.

Curtis and Ari exchange a heated look over your body, a silent communication passing between them. With practiced ease, they begin to maneuver you, their strong hands guiding your pliant form.

"On your side, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

They position you carefully, Curtis spooning behind you while Ari faces you. The warmth of their bodies envelops you, skin against skin. Ari’s hand traces the curve of your hip, following the delicate skull pattern inked there.

Curtis's hand slides down your thigh, lifting your leg and draping it over Ari's hip. This new position leaves you completely exposed, vulnerable, and aching with need. You can feel the heat of their erections pressing against you - Curtis's thick length nestled against your ass, while Ari's presses insistently against your lower belly.

Ari cups your face, drawing you into a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his hand slides up and down your side, fingers ghosting over skin, making your shiver. He pauses to murmur, "Eager cockslut," against your lips.

You moan into Ari's mouth at his words, a shot of arousal running through you. You feel Curtis shift behind you, his hand sliding between your legs from behind. His thick fingers probe your entrance, spreading your wetness.

"So fucking wet," Curtis growls in your ear. "Always so ready for us."

You gasp as you feel the blunt head of Curtis's cock pressing against your tightest entrance. He enters you slowly, stretching you deliciously. Your head falls back against his shoulder as he fills you.

"That's it, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his voice strained. "Take all of me."

The stretch is intense, bordering on too much after the night's activities, but the fullness feels incredible.

Ari watches your face intently as Curtis sinks into you inch by inch. When Curtis is fully seated, Ari captures your lips in another searing kiss, and his hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit again. He rubs slow circles as Curtis begins to move inside you with shallow thrusts. The dual sensations have you panting, pleasure building rapidly.

"Good girl," he murmurs against your mouth. "Now it's my turn."

Your eyes widen as you feel the blunt head of Ari's cock drag over your clit and then he guides the tip into your pussy. You groan as Ari begins to push inside you, stretching and stuffing you. The sensation of both men filling you completely is overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that has you trembling between them.

"Breathe, beautiful," Ari murmurs, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly sinks deeper. "That's it, take us both."

Curtis's arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady as Ari pushes in to the hilt. You feel so impossibly full, stretched to your limits in the most exquisite way. For a moment, nobody moves, allowing you to adjust to the intense sensation.

"Fuck, fuuuuck," Curtis curses in your ear, his voice strained.

Ari nods in agreement, his forehead resting against yours as he struggles to maintain control. "Perfect," he breathes. "You were fucking made to be used by us.” He squeezes your plush thigh, relishing the purchase his large hands have on your ample flesh.

Curtis nips at your earlobe, his breath hot against your neck. "So tight," he growls, his hips making small, shallow thrusts. "You feel incredible, sugar."

You whimper at the overwhelming sensations, feeling utterly filled and possessed by both men. The slight movement of Curtis's hips sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you gasp and clutch at Ari's shoulders.

"Please," you moan, not even sure what you're begging for. "Please, I need..."

Ari captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your pleas. "We know what you need, beautiful," he murmurs against your mouth. "We're going to give it to you."

With that, both men begin to move. They start slow, alternating their thrusts so that as one pulls back, the other pushes in. The drag of their cocks inside you, filling you so completely, has you seeing stars.

Curtis's hand slides up your body, cupping your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers. "Such a good and nasty girl," he growls in your ear. "So greedy. Taking both our fat cocks.”

"Oh god," you moan. "So full."

Ari picks up the pace of his thrusts and Curtis matches his rhythm, driving into you with increasing force.

"That's it, sugar," Curtis growls in your ear, his hand sliding down to grip your hip.

Their cocks stretching and filling you, their hands roaming your body, has pleasure building rapidly within you. You feel utterly possessed, caught between them as they use your body and assault your mind with their dirty talk.

"Look at you," Ari purrs, his blue eyes intense as they lock onto yours. "Our perfect little slut, stuffed full of cock and loving every second of it."

The praise sends a thrill through you, making you clench around both of them. Curtis groans in response, his hips snapping forward more forcefully. "That's it, sugar," he growls, his breath hot against your neck. "Squeeze us tight with your greedy holes."

You moan loudly, overwhelmed by the onslaught. Your body feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. The relentless stimulation of both men moving inside you has you teetering desperately on the edge of your orgasm.

"Oh god," you whimper, your hands clutching desperately at Ari's shoulders. "I'm so close."

Ari grins wickedly, his hips snapping forward with increased force, thumb still circling your puffy clit. "That's it," he growls. "Come for us. Show us how much you love being stuffed full of cock."

Curtis's hand slides between your bodies, his fingers finding one of your nipples. He pinches and twists the peaked nub as he continues to thrust into you from behind. "Come on, sugar," he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. "Let go!”

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body tensing and shaking between them as waves of pleasure course through you. You cry out, your voice hoarse and desperate as you clench tightly around both men.

"That's it, beautiful," Ari growls, his hips snapping forward with increased intensity. "Milk our cocks with those pretty holes."

Curtis groans in your ear, his arm tightening around your waist as he drives into you harder. "Fuck, sugar," he pants. "You feel so good when you come on our cocks."

Your body feels like a live wire, trembling uncontrollably as Curtis and Ari continue to thrust into you, prolonging your intense orgasm. The overstimulation borders on painful, yet you crave more, your body greedily clenching around their thick cocks.

As your orgasm begins to ebb, Curtis and Ari's thrusts become more erratic, their breathing ragged. You can feel them both swelling inside you, on the brink of their own release.

"Fuck, I'm close," Ari growls, his grip on your thigh tightening.

Curtis grunts in agreement, his thrusts becoming more forceful. "Me too," he pants against your neck.

You moan, overwhelmed by the sensation of both men using your body so thoroughly. "Please," you whimper.

"Where do you want it, beautiful?" Ari asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Tell us."

"Inside," you gasp out, your body clenching around them at the thought. "Fill me up. Please!"

Your words seem to push them over the edge, and they come one after the other, Curtis first, and Ari close behind.

Curtis and Ari slowly withdraw from your body, their cocks slipping free with lewd, wet sounds that makes you shudder. You feel utterly wrecked, but also deliciously used and satisfied as their combined release begins to trickle out of you.

Ari captures your lips in a deep, languid kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand caresses your face. The tenderness of the kiss contrasts beautifully with the intensity of what you've just experienced, grounding you in the aftermath of your shared passion.

Behind you, Curtis's large hands slide between your legs, his fingers probing gently at your thoroughly used holes. He spreads your wetness around, mixing his own release with Ari's and your abundant arousal. The slick, sticky mess coats his fingers as he rubs slow circles around your sensitive pussy, teases your ass. The sensation is both soothing and arousing, your body still hyper-sensitive from the intense experience.

A moment after Curtis takes his hand away from your messy holes, he tugs your chin away from Ari’s kiss and slips his fingers into your open mouth. Your tongue laps instinctively to taste the complex flavor coating his fingers. The taste is an intoxicating blend - the saltiness of Curtis's release, the slightly bitter tang of Ari's, and the sweet muskiness of your own arousal. It's a potent cocktail that floods your senses, making you moan softly around Curtis's fingers as you suckle them clean.

Curtis watches you intently, his ice-blue eyes dark with renewed hunger as you lap at his fingers. He slowly withdraws them from your mouth, dragging them along your bottom lip, leaving a glistening trail in their wake.

Before you can catch your breath, Curtis captures your mouth with his own hungry lips.

Curtis kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting the mingled flavors of your combined releases. His hand cups the back of your head, holding you in place as he devours you. When he finally breaks the kiss, you're breathless and dazed.

Ari chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over the artwork on your skin. "Insatiable," he murmurs, but his voice is fond.

Curtis breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless. His ice-blue eyes roam over your body, taking in the sight of you thoroughly debauched and marked by their artwork.

"You okay, sugar?" he asks.

You nod, unable to form words just yet. You feel utterly boneless, caught between their warm bodies, pleasantly sore and thoroughly satisfied. You melt under their intense gazes, feeling both exposed and cherished, but this pattern is nothing new with this pair of men who ply you with both the dirty and the delicate in a dizzying combination.

Ari shifts to his back, and you curl into him, resting over his chest. Curtis moves in behind you, nuzzles into you neck, and places a few kisses along your shoulder as the three of you succumb to Sunday morning snoozing.

The room is quiet save for the sound of your collective breathing slowly returning to normal. And as you drift back into sleep, you think of the new ink they’ve put on you. They may be temporary tattoos covering your skin, but they’ll be a tangible reminder of your connection to these two men, a secret mark of ownership that only the three of you know, with a balance of simplicity and complexity that you still need to sort out, but that’s novel and beautiful and only for the three of you to explore.

This is distraction smut. It was on the docket for my Countdown to Chris-mas, but not for this week, but I couldn't pull the headspace that I needed to work on the other story I had intended to debut. Hopefully this can just be a welcome indulgence for anyone who needs it.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[storiesoflilies]

metanoia

synopsis: a love story that blossoms over two students’ shared love of drinking green tea and talking about the stars. w.c: 17k.

pairing: college!toji fushiguro x f!reader

warnings: mostly fluff with angst at the end! NSFW so MDNI!

a/n: this fic is my darling baby that has been re-released (in case anybody was thinking it looks familiar)! there are no major changes from the original fic! to both new and old readers, i hope you enjoy <3

art / divider / playlist / ao3

there was nothing else to do or say about fate, other than it was fixed.

no matter how hard you might try to change it, she never believed it could be. life was a series of scrawling numbers and greek letters, written by the hands of angels and god.

life was never going to be a straight line. rather, it was a scattered mess of ever-changing parabolas, dipping and rising above the axis like surfers on the waves of the sea.

but sometimes, just sometimes, you can hear what has been written about you.

if she tuned into things really hard, and listened beyond the banal noises that came with the plane of existence all humans exist in, she could hear it.

the scratching of a pen on paper, or perhaps a feather quill on a scroll?

yes, that sounded more like it.

she could hear the angels solving the puzzle they had been given – to balance the equation of her life. things had to be solved in a certain series of formulas to become a proven, tangible equation. the angels were still trying to prove her life, it seemed, and it was quite simply astounding that they were working so hard to try and solve it for her.

but the irrational part of her couldn’t help but think the worst.

what if they were bored?

she could certainly understand; there were many times when she’d been made to solve trivial questions, like calculating the speed of an aircraft, and she’d wished she could be anywhere but there in that moment. did the angels think that about her equation? would they ever get bored and just give up on her?

with that, the cold, beautiful reality that is life becomes apparent.

none of it was really personal to them, but she had a duty to live it right up until the equation was balanced and the last drop of ink ran dry.

but for now, it was golden hour.

that time of the day when the sun’s light softened, casting long shadows of buildings and trees across the pavement. honeyed rays of light filtered in through the window, refracting through the clear plastic display that showcased the sweet traybakes of the day. the cafe was quiet now, just after the hustle and bustle of regular work hours. most of the patrons were university students, drawn to the cafe for its convenient location near the main campus, where they downed their coffees like it was a drug to be taken multiple times a day.

she couldn’t judge them.

after all, she was included in that typical student caliber too. but instead of drinking her weight in murky brown caffeine, she preferred it to be of the green kind. more specifically, a cup of green tea took her brainpower much farther and higher than its more popular, teeth-staining counterpart.

and the perks of working for the very same cafe?

every cup of it was free and unlimited use for her – something she took advantage of every single shift.

the job couldn’t be more perfect for her.

although her shifts were daily, they were always scheduled during these quiet golden hours that extended into the stretch of moonlight, accommodating her university hours.

because choosing to study a degree in physics was certainly no joke, and she was grateful for any spare moment of peace to work on her assignments and reports. her manager never minded, leaving her to riddle away at her numbers, which went straight over their head, trusting her to still serve any customers coming in and close up the shop.

it was absolutely fine.

a simple, predictable routine – an equation she was perfectly happy to solve every single day.

until it wasn’t so easy.

| Φ |

some time later that night, the delicate bell above the doorway tinkled merrily.

it was well after the sun had dipped below the horizon and the moon had finally peeked out from behind dusty clouds, and so it had snapped her straight out of her trance. she had been listening to the music of mathematical constants singing to her of defined, set values from the sheet of paper placed against the wooden clipboard of ‘speciality beverages’.

it was him.

toji fushiguro.

the dark haired boy she had seen around campus, although he probably hadn’t noticed her flitting about between lectures.

he was unusually quiet and unfairly attractive. the boy who obviously frequented the gym close by, and came here to her little cafe afterwards. that much was obvious from the way the wet strands of hair stuck to his forehead, the spicy smell of whatever body wash he used, and the all black attire he always wore.

the very same same boy who she’d curiously asked about, only to be told that he kept to himself and didn’t really speak to anybody.

and she believed it.

she had never seen him walking with anybody else, or even bringing anyone along to his daily study sessions at the cafe. the way he grimaced at loud, boisterous students, typical of their age group, told her enough. that toji fushiguro didn’t seem to like people very much, and was perfectly happy with not being liked in return.

“hello,” she meekly piped out, her voice barely above a squeak. “what would you like?”

it was a silly question, she knew he would order his usual.

green tea.

just like her.

but it was a question she asked regardless, just in case his routine equation had somehow changed. you never know, perhaps the angels had miscalculated or wrote down a wrong number – it happens to everyone.

“green tea, please,” he grunted, not quite meeting her eyes.

he then sauntered off to his usual table by the window, and began pulling out his study material from his canvas bag.

she was grateful for the simplicity of their routine. there was nothing worse than preparing an elaborate order in the quiet of the night and disturbing the peace. brewing green tea was something she knew like the back of her hand, easy and peaceful like breathing. she strained the herbs as she poured it into a delicate ceramic cup, which the cafe insisted on serving it in, and brought it over to him.

toji muttered a small thank you, and she politely smiled, even though he never once looked at her. she walked back to her spot behind the counter, and placed the clipboard on her crossed legs, and resumed her musings.

such was their routine.

the both of them in their respective worlds within the same plane that was the cafe, sipping their green tea and whittling away at their education.

strangely, she almost felt honored that of all the cafes open late into the night, this was the one he picked to come to. even if the bitter, realistic part of her insisted that it was only because it was conveniently close to the gym. still, their equations followed the exact same sequence of numbers at that time every day, and she found that positively wonderful.

it was nearing 10:30p.m when she finally finished solving her report, and she looked up to see toji was completely engrossed in whatever he was working on.

he should have noticed the time by now.

he would have normally packed up his things at this point, but not before ordering one last cup of tea before heading off wherever it was he went to in the dead of night. probably back to his accommodation, she assumed, because he just didn’t seem like the type to show up to late-night parties full of booze and sweat.

she didn’t know what to say, or even how to say it.

the logical part of her brain was overthinking everything.

this just wasn’t the norm for them.

toji was supposed to have tidied up after himself, leave just the exact amount of money on the counter, and walk out the door without another word. she almost considered not even saying anything at all, biding her time until he simply realized himself and walked out.

until her legs moved of their, seemingly of their own accord, straight towards him.

perhaps it was all a result of the numbers being messily rubbed away and rewritten. he never even heard her; his black wired earbuds were firmly in his ears, and she wondered what sort of music it was that toji fushiguro listened to. she quickly tapped his shoulder, withdrawing her hand back to her side as quickly as she could.

toji practically jumped out of his skin as he turned to acknowledge her.

“sorry,” she apologized, looking pointedly over at the clock on the wall above him. “but we’re closing soon.”

toji frowned, like he didn’t really believe her, until he glanced at the digital clock on his laptop and jumped into action. “sorry,” he said rather awkwardly, hurriedly packing up his things as she stood at a respectful distance away.

“it’s no problem at all. please, take your time,” she replied as politely and delicately as she possibly could, looking away as he messily scraped his papers and notebooks into his bag.

his chair scraped uncomfortably across the floor, and he heaved his bag over his shoulder as he shoved a hand into his pocket, fishing for the exact change he needed. for a second, she thought, hoped, that he would hand it to her. but no, he almost jogged over to the counter and placed it right next to the black mug of green tea beside her clipboard.

toji paused, momentarily staring at her mug. she felt a flush of embarrassment, as if even he knew she wasn’t supposed to be drinking it out of a large mug. but he said nothing and rushed outside.

everything fell back into place according to the laws of the world, and seemed to right again.

| Φ |

there was something inherently uncomfortable about contemplating the future.

as summer rapidly approached, with only about four months left of the semester, she found herself forced to confront equations she didn’t want to solve. it was always during the night, when she should have been fast asleep, that she really tried to listen in on the angels scribbling away at her numbers. it was cheating really, an easy way out to hear the answers of what she was supposed to do.

perhaps if the end of her final year wasn’t so dreadfully final, then it would have been easier to formulate her own answers.

well, they weren’t really her own, but anyway.

she was in her own little bubble tonight, absentmindedly sipping her tea and tapping her pen against the clipboard. she knew the answer to the problem at hand, some menial question about what angle a beam of light would reflect at, and so she could afford to daydream and listen to the music of the numbers singing in her head.

it was quite easy to imagine a picture being painted from the numbers. why bother calculating the angle when you could visualize the light bending instead?

that was what mattered in the end, not just the face value of the number itself, but the tangible reality they represented.

there was no point in scribbling away at the numbers if you couldn’t paint a picture in your mind of the light itself or feel the thumping of sound waves reverberating through the surrounding medium.

there was only her and toji in the cafe now. he’d breezed past her earlier on the way in straight to his seat, dumping his bag on the table with the air of a student who was beyond fed up with their lot. she knew what it looked like; she’d seen it too many times throughout the years and had been through that position herself.

she tried not to make it obvious she was looking at him, or admiring the way his arms moved in the tight compression shirt he wore.

or the way his wet hair was slightly slicked back today.

and the way his annoyance sparked a beautiful flame of green in his eyes.

he looked over at her.

dammit.

she heard his footsteps approaching her, but her embarrassment forced her not to even look at him. instead, she focused heavily on pretending to be stuck on the paper in front of her.

“hey, uh, can i get a green tea?” he asked, his voice deep and undeniably addictive. “please?”

“oh yes, of course!” she replied swiftly, putting on her best customer service voice to shield her embarrassment as best as she possibly could.

toji shifted his feet from side to side, his hands in his pockets, and mumbled, “could i possibly have it in a mug, or something? it’s just… the teacups are really small.”

a deviation in the curve, an unexpected variable.

she answered anyway, perhaps a little unsurely, “oh, sure, yeah. no problem at all. is this one fine?” she lifted her mug awkwardly off the table, and toji looked at it and nodded.

“yeah, that would be great. is it, uh, more expensive?”

the way he asked it made her heart ache, as if he was ashamed of having to in the first place.

oh.

i’m so sorry.

she waved her hand at him, playing it off like a silly unnecessary question. “oh no, not at all. don’t worry about it.”

toji seemed visibly gladdened at this, the tension in his face releasing as his eyes brightened. he stood there, swinging on the balls of his feet, and she was quite surprised he was waiting for her to finish brewing the tea instead of bringing it over to him. she had to steady the slight tremor in her hand as he watched her brew the tea with practiced precision. after what seemed like an eternity, she placed the mug on a small plate and carefully handed it to him.

“thanks,” he said quietly, his eyes fixated on the mug and the thin wisps of steam wafting from it. then, like an afterthought that was actually painfully thought out, he added, “appreciate it.”

she could have sworn the corner of his lip lifted, and she almost lost her footing as she sat back down on her stool. though she knew it was impossible, it seemed as if time had been stuck in that moment, the laws of physics crying out for some sense of normalcy to resume.

and so she cleared her throat, pulling free time from where its coat was stuck on the doorknob. “no worries. let me know if you need anything else.”

but he was already walking back to his seat.

firmly slotting back the numbers and variables into the places they were supposed to be.

newton’s first law of motion states that an object at rest or uniform motion will continue to stay that way unless acted upon by a net external force.

or the law of inertia, as it was also called, and she much preferred that instead. it was what she thought of every time she saw toji making his way to the door of the cafe from the window, taking large, purposeful strides like he knew where he always wanted to go at all times. he was that object in uniform motion, his life seemingly constant without any real deviations. she thought of it every time he walked out of the door too, and wondered if there would ever be anything significant enough to achieve a large enough force to change his trajectory.

so what large enough force had been applied to make him finally ask for a change to how he drank his tea?

maybe he had never considered it before, never realized there was any other option other than the abysmally tiny teacup he had used before. perhaps the fact that he had stopped and seen her mug the night before had opened up new possibilities for him.

whatever it was, it didn’t really matter, because he looked so much more at ease now that he wasn’t hanging on for dear life to a teacup too small for those hands of his.

those big, attractive hands, with good, strong veins running through them.

toji looked up at her from behind his laptop.

the tip-taps of her pen became just a notch louder, and she bit her lip, almost crossing her eyes as she focused a little too hard into the hole of the letter ‘a’ in the word ‘angle’.

dammit.

| Φ |

it was march, and the cherry blossoms that grew around campus were now blossoming in full swing.

what little free time she had between university work, endless laboratory reports, and working at the cafe, was spent walking around the town and parks. while hearing the songs of physics and numbers was her way of life, sometimes it was nice to wind down and appreciate the beauty of biology and chemistry.

to see how the rain that fell from the skies was soaked up by the weed flowers thriving in the cracks of the pavement. they were tiny little warriors, persevering in the face of the hundreds of people who surely walked this path, avoiding death by being crushed.

the air was cool, and it was late enough in the day to make it feel much cooler than it should have been. she rubbed her arms through her jacket and picked up the pace. it was a week break in the semester, and it was much busier than it should have been for that time of the day. her manager had offered her more hours to work during the break, and she had mistakenly accepted the offer instead of taking some time for herself to do what she liked.

she entered the cafe, the little bell chiming, and smiled at her colleague, who seemed rather grateful that they weren’t alone to deal with the swarm of students enjoying a relaxing coffee. it was rather different from the anxious energy that usually accompanied students in here, but it was a welcome change to see unburdened smiles before the exam season hit them all in full merciless force.

together, they took on the onslaught of orders from all the customers walking into their quaint little cafe in the middle of campus. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d made such complex teas, brewing flavor combinations she couldn’t even concoct in her wildest dreams.

by the end of the rush, with her colleague having finished their shift, she was left in a frazzled state of tea stains and sticky sugary syrup.

and that is precisely when toji fushiguro decided to walk through the door.

she almost froze, a mixture of shock and embarrassment washing over like a bucket of ice-cold water. why, she’d never seen him in the cafe while the sun was still in the sky, and he wasn’t even dressed in his usual fitness attire either. instead, it was a black jumper and jeans. this was most certainly not part of the equation at all; she had never even considered to calculate the probability of such an event occurring.

“hey,” he greeted, as casual as the jeans he was wearing, while fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

“hi,” she answered, dusting off some imaginary dust from her apron because she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. “the usual?”

toji seemed somewhat surprised at this. “yeah, please.”

she couldn’t lie; it was such a welcome relief to make something so simple amidst the chaos that was the ever-changing trends of beverages. had the universe written an additional formula just to provide her with just a moment’s respite?

or was it the law of attraction being employed?

no, that was surely wishful thinking.

there was no way that toji fushiguro had anything in common with her.

“are you sitting in or taking away?” she prompted, the extra words slipping through her lips.

he thought about it for a second before nodding his head, “uh, yeah, takeaway please.”

“no problem,” she replied smoothly, amazed at how well she was deviating from their usual interactions, and poured the tea into a disposable cup. “there you go.”

toji mumbled a ‘thank you’ as he carefully placed the coins on the counter, his hands completely enveloping what she would have once considered a large cup.

what compelled her to say the following words, she didn’t really know, but she called out in a hopefully not-so-loud voice as he turned to leave, “enjoy the blossoms!”

just why?

why would you say that?

she was even more mortified when toji simply walked out the door without sparing her a second glance. the universe was cruel for adding that into the equation, and she could have sworn, to add further insult to injury, that two girls had watched their exchange and were snickering.

enjoy the blossoms?

stupid, stupid, stupid!

| Φ |

for the rest of the day, she felt as if the second law of thermodynamics very much applied to her.

as she recounted her absolutely horrific exchange with toji, she felt the heat of the universe pressing down on her isolated being, causing her atoms inside of her to bounce of the walls that was her skin, sending her into a more and more disorganized chaotic state of existence. she actually hoped for once that the deviance of the otherwise constant line would continue to do so, and that toji wouldn’t come to the cafe later on that night.

then she could resume solving the equation as it was meant to be solved for the next night, and she could continue on as if nothing ever happened in the first place.

so when their routine did end up resuming its normalcy, and toji walked into the cafe with his dark wet hair and canvas bag, she was too mortified to even speak to him, despite him being the only customer in the shop. she got straight to work brewing him his tea, avoiding even looking anywhere near him as he set his things down at the table.

her lack of attention, for once, almost caused a head-on collision.

“hey, oh shit! sorry,” toji cussed, even though it was completely her fault, as he stopped whatever momentum he had in his body from crashing into her.

she hissed as the scalding tea splashed onto her fingers. “oh, no, i’m sorry! are you alright?”

“yeah, don’t worry about it.”

with a wobbly, quivering lip, she went around him and placed his mug on the table, being careful to avoid placing the wet bottom anywhere near his papers. it was there she caught a glimpse of some messily scrawled-out calculations on a piece of scratch paper, and her brain immediately started to sing.

no, don’t stare. it’s rude.

“sorry again,” she whispered, looking straight at the ground and being careful to not step in his way again.

toji never even made a sound, and she didn’t dare to look up to see if he was looking at her. she ran her finger under some cold water before taking her usual seat at the counter, and picked up where she left off on summarizing her lectures. it was perfectly quiet now, save for the scratching of her pen on paper and toji typing away on his keyboard. this was peaceful, easy, and– hold on. why could she hear the sound of the music?

“hey, sorry to interrupt,” toji interjected, making her jump. “do you have any sandwiches or something left?”

“oh! no, i’m sorry, what’s on display is what’s left,” she answered shakily, putting her pen down on the counter. “i, um- the protein balls are pretty decent, if you like that sort of thing.”

“oh, sure. yeah,” he murmured, looking at the several flavors that were available. “I’ll take the, uh, peanut flavor. that any good?”

she smiled softly, despite the throbbing sensation in her finger. “yeah, it’s not bad. you want two?” he nodded, and she wrapped them both up in a paper bag as he procured out coins from his pocket.

toji dug around some more, patting down his pockets to make sure there was definitely nothing lingering in there, and his stomach audibly growled. the air became a touch too awkward, and she stared at the sad-looking change on the counter.

she slid the bag over to him with quiet understanding, and gave him the kindest smile she possibly could.

“hey, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” she encouraged. “sorry, i should have said that from the beginning.”

toji shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “oh no, i couldn’t do that. sorry, i’ll just leave it. i thought i had enough change.”

she pushed the bag further towards him. “it’s fine, i insist. please.”

he slowly took the bag, as if he wasn’t sure that it was real, or that it was maybe going to bite him. “thanks,” he said quietly, and retreated back to his seat, packing up his things, while she sat there trying to will her atoms back into their rightful place.

“thanks again,” toji rumbled softly as he held the door halfway open. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“o-oh yeah! yeah, see you tomorrow,” she stuttered back.

with that, he closed the door behind him, the bell tingling a beautiful farewell for him, and she was left with the atoms of her thumping heart completely dispersing into the atmosphere as she frantically tried to claw them back down.

| Φ |

tomorrow came and went, and they had settled into a slightly different flow of their routine.

instead of waiting for her to bring over his tea, toji now waited at the counter for her to hand him a large, steaming mug of his fix. they never spoke anymore than what they did before, but there was something that had changed between them. something so subtle that it couldn’t be defined properly, but she knew it was there, and she hoped toji knew it too.

it was april now, and the flurry of students cramming for their exams in may were in full swing. when she wasn’t at the cafe, she was holed up in her shared accommodation, buried underneath a blanket that may as well have been a black hole swallowing her whole. there, she studied for the last set of exams she would ever have to sit at university, but she tried not to dwell on that fact.

not that she didn’t study at the cafe, but toji’s presence added an extra dynamic that made it difficult to focus as well as when she was alone.

despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but constantly glance at him when she was confident he wasn’t looking. right now, she could tell he was silently stressing over his exams too. spending so long in silence with another person meant she could tell the slight quirks in his face that signalled a changed in trajectory of emotion.

currently, the deep frown lines etched in his forehead meant that he was monumentally stuck on something. he’d been like that ever since he powered up his laptop and stared at the screen, the dim light casting an artificial, cold glow on his face.

once again, she didn’t know what compelled her to do what she did next.

maybe it was the fact she knew he had barely touched his tea, and it was surely cold by now. or maybe it was the desire to momentarily distract him from his frustration by bringing him a warm, fresh brew. whatever it was, her body was moving according some new formula the angels had applied, and she found herself simply walking over without saying anything and placing a piping hot mug next to his laptop.

“huh? oh, thanks,” toji said slowly, daze-like, as if he wasn’t sure she was real and doing this.

she smiled softly, quickly glancing at the scratch paper in front of him, and oh no – he wasn’t composing the music correctly at all.

“that isn’t the answer,” she stated simply, looking back up at him. he frowned again, momentarily confused, until she pointed at his paper and said, “you’ve calculated this wrong. that isn’t the right equation to use.”

toji looked back down at his paper, sighing softly, and rubbed his face as he seemed to sink deeper and deeper into his chair. she couldn’t understand it; there was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of in getting a question wrong. she’d done it before herself many times, and more than likely would continue to do so.

“sorry, i-uh, i’m not very good at mathematics,” he mumbled shyly, and her heart started to crumble like a biscuit.

she pulled her pen out of her pocket and clicked it once. “no need to be sorry. do you want me to show you how to do it?”

toji nodded wordlessly, and slid the paper over to her, angling the laptop so she could see the question displayed. it was about calculating the speed of an athlete's arm as they threw a ball through the air, but he hadn’t used the correct equation, nor the correct standard units. she quickly wrote out every step of how to solve it, did a final check that her mental calculations were correct against his gray calculator, and slid the paper back to him.

“there, be careful with your units and don’t forget to include them. most of my professors have strict marking against not writing the proper ones, i don’t know about yours, but it might be better to be safe than sorry,” she explained, her throat tightening as he intently looked at her working out.

it felt personal on another sort of level, and strangely intimate.

he seemed to be taking his time studying it, with a slightly blank look, as if what she had done was still going well over his head. “yeah, good point. thank you,” was all he mustered, and he tilted his head at the scratch paper.

“do you want me to explain anything?” she prompted, half expecting him to pretend that he understood everything. that would have been typical of a student at university - faking it until they somehow made it.

so she was pleasantly surprised, but not at all unwilling to explain it when toji nodded again, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. she tried to recall how her teachers in high school had taught her these concepts, trying to adapt their tone of voice: patient and understanding. she leaned over to be more at eye level at him, trying to seem less intimidating, and their close proximity was sending her brain into overdrive.

“i hope this makes more sense now,” she said as she wrapped up the explanation.

toji’s lips formed a small ‘o’ shape, and the scar gracing them resembled the greek letter phi, but with the line running over to the right side instead of the middle. if she didn’t need anymore proof that the boy sitting in front of her was perfect, then the angels had just thrown in the winning factor.

phi, the perfect golden constant, now belonged in her mind only to toji fushiguro.

“uh, yeah actually,” he hummed, seemingly appreciative, his eyes sparkling against the dim lighting of the cafe. “thanks so much.”

she couldn’t help it, but she grinned widely. “no problem at all.”

she started to walk away, biting her lip when she turned her back to him, already feeling the bitter sting of disappointment that things would probably be back to normal after yet another deviation. until toji called out, “you’re really good at this. what do you study?”

“physics,” she replied, hoping the shock wasn’t too evident in her voice. “what about you?”

“P.E.,” he answered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. she had to try very hard not to stare at how nice his biceps looked. “i stupidly decided to add a sports biomechanics module as my optional one. kinda regretting it now.”

toji chuckled halfheartedly, and she almost swooned, but opted to tilt her head to the side and say, “oh, but don’t you find it fascinating? it’s the numbers behind the real output of an athlete.”

“oh, well i never really thought about it that way.” he seemed to be genuinely pondering her outlook on the matter, staring hard at the numbers before him, and she felt the blood rising to her cheeks. toji looked back up at her and smiled a devastatingly handsome smile. “i suppose it makes sense for you to think like that.”

she didn’t really know how to reply to that except an, “i guess so,” and then added a polite follow-up of, “what sort of sport do you, then?”

“judo and jujutsu,” toji replied smoothly and completely casually. “i train at the gym before i come here.”

“oh yeah? that’s quite intense.”

“not so much if you enjoy it, really.”

“easy for you to say. you’re obviously in much better shape than the rest of us.”

she almost cringed externally at that.

obviously much better shape? why on earth would you say obviously, stupid?

but toji only chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “hard work, i guess.” he mumbled, staring back at his paper.

she glanced up at the time, noting that it was almost time to close. “well, i’m sorry, but you might have to practice it yourself at home.”

he looked panicked for a second, his eyes darting over to the clock. “oh, yeah. probably.” and started to slowly pack up his things.

she didn’t want to observe him anymore than she already had, so she busied herself by washing their mugs and quickly wiping down the counter for the morning shift, while toji was taking his time neatly packing away his things. was it wishful thinking that perhaps he was stalling. whether it was or wasn’t, she left him to it, switching off the lights everywhere except at the entrance. she swept her eyes over the cafe to make sure she hadn’t missed anything before heading out.

toji stood beside the door, his eyes flitting about anywhere but her, obviously waiting for her to finish locking up. she tried to ignore the fluttering in her chest and smiled awkwardly at him as he finally met her gaze. he shuffled outside before she did, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the nights sky, the silver moon shining between stringy wisps of clouds.

he looked like a scene straight from a movie – a movie where a beautiful boy was up against the weight of the world.

she could see it all clearly now: his scuffed up trainers, canvas bag with dirt stains scraping the bottom of it, the hole in his shirt near the hem. and yet, she knew he had real strength, the quiet sort of kind, that would completely surprise anybody that decided to come at him.

she locked the door behind her, the keys jangling, disturbing the relative quiet of the street. the distant whooping of boisterous students, no doubt drinking and partying away their stress, could be heard a little ways off into the distance. the bright light of the 7-11 across the streets flickered, and she briefly considered buying some cheap dinner before heading home.

she cleared her throat and gave him a small smile. “well, good luck studying.”

toji breathed out a half-hearted laugh. “thanks, i’ll need it.”

“if you’re still having trouble with your calculations, you can always ask me tomorrow,” she reassured, feeling bold enough to assume that his equation would continue to equate to hers.

he seemed to hesitate, as if debating something within his head, and replied, “yeah, sure.” but his tone left much to be desired, and she was already kicking herself for being so direct. “sounds good.”

she bit her lip and mumbled a weak ‘goodnight’ before walking straight into the 7-11 to escape.

| Φ |

the next night in the cafe, after quite a long day of punching numbers into her calculator and her eyes swimming with all sorts of symbols, she was contemplating the sheer power of a supernova explosion.

it was golden hour, and toji had arrived much earlier to study. his deviations from the norm weren't so jarring anymore, and she’d almost come to sort of expect them at this point. he’d actually met her eyes as she prepared his tea, and even offered her a smile and a ‘thank you’.

the time passed on quickly, and soon enough, it was just her, toji, and two other customers – fellow students – inhabiting the same area. it was around 9:17p.m., the usual time for it to be a sacred silence. so when four boys staggered through the door, the bell cried out aggressively from the force of them nearly ripping open the door, completely tearing her from whatever daydreams she had been lost in.

they were cruel, uncaring about her or the other patrons they were disturbing with their raised voices and boisterous behavior. she kept her cool, not letting their jeers and sly comments get to her as she prepared their orders, wanting to get them out of the cafe as soon as she possibly could. one of them was particular unnerving, staring at her more than the others did, a creepy smirk on his lips and dangerous glint in his eyes.

he was like a black hole, and she felt as if she was about to be swallowed alive.

she felt like she couldn’t breath.

as if her body didn’t remember the biomechanical process to allow her to expand her lungs and fill them with sweet air.

were the angels in serious danger of their calculations becoming completely wrong? was her equation to become something twisted and tragic by the end of the night?

when the group left, the evil boy had glanced over his shoulder to give her one last indecipherable look before he took off at a run after his friends. she exhaled shakily, willing her body to remember how to breath, and decided to distract herself by cleaning any and all random nooks and crannies she could find in an effort to distract herself.

oh how she hated them those stupid, idiotic boys – and that their words and manners had such an impact on her.

she’d worked herself into such a state that she hadn’t even noticed toji standing awkwardly at the counter until she turned to sip at her ice-cold tea, and almost yelped in surprise.

“hey,” toji greeted gently, delicate raindrops against a pane of glass. “it’s eleven.”

and so it was as she noted the time on the clock. she wiped her brow and discarded the now completely blackened cleaning cloth into the rubbish. “sorry, i’ll just get the keys now. you head on.”

“no, it’s okay,” he hummed. “take your time. i’ll be outside.”

when she finally finished the usual locking-up routine, toji had resumed that vision of perfection from the previous night, and it was almost impossible to even consider, but he was even more dreamy than before. toji had to have been carved by michealangelo; born of marble and beauty, and forced to to live in this plane of existence. in some rural countryside of japan, at a public university campus, surrounded by bog-standard students trying to scrape through life.

she felt he didn’t really belong here, as if he was already slipping through her fingers, even though he never really was between them to begin with.

“see you tomorrow,” she said in farewell, giving him a small wave and already walking away.

the loud thuds against the pavement reverberated the immediate vicinity, and toji huffed as he caught up to her, “hey, uh, whereabouts do you live?”

“not too far, about a ten-minute walk away,” she replied, almost floored at the fact that he had just run after her. “why?”

“just… you ok if i tag along? i could use the company.”

“…sure?”

they walked side by side in silence, and her mind was going into complete overdrive. she was trying so hard not to be completely floored that somehow, on a random April night, toji fushiguro was walking her home. it was obvious that he was lying about company – perhaps not an outright lie, but it definitely wasn’t the whole truth. time seemed to have passed quicker than it should have, and before she knew it, they had arrived at her accommodation. toji seemed to hover, looking over his shoulder, his body seemingly tense.

“well, this is me,” she announced, jingling her keys for good measure. “huh, are you okay?”

toji was glaring into the darkness, into the twisted labyrinth of twists and turns in between buildings, only really half-listening. “yeah,” he replied tersely, his fists clenching. “you’re staying at home tonight, right?”

she nodded nervously, suddenly hyperaware of the deep, foreboding inkiness of the night. “mhm.”

he turned to her, verdant eyes simmering with something nearly as dark as the sky. “good, i’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“bye, toji.”

but he was already striding off into the labyrinth, off to face the dirt and coal thrown at him, when he himself was made of marble and gold.

| Φ |

a week after toji had walked her home, she had her first final exam, during which the whole time her thoughts were consumed by him.

of toji fushiguro.

toji and his eyes of forests and jade. of his sculpted body, and all the angles and lines that made up his face. his scar that made him golden and perfect, her phi. of how she had seen him on campus the next morning after he walked her home, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, split knuckles raw and red against the marble of his skin. how he’d finally noticed her outside the cafe for the first time and actually smiled at her.

her friends – more so acquaintances who had happened to become close simply because they were on the same course –had noticed the exchange. when toji had walked well out of earshot, they had bombarded her with hushed whisper-yells of excited “oh my god!" and "how did you even get him to smile? i’ve never even heard him speak.”

and she’d shrugged them off, fending off their curiosity with, “oh, he comes to the cafe all the time, that’s all.”

she didn’t want to get into all the details of toji and her. well, just toji really – there was no 'and her'. their time together was a coveted treasure, and she was strangely possessive over it.

that night, as she handed toji his tea, she plucked up the courage to ask, “what happened to your hands?”

toji automatically looked down at them, flexing them as if even mentioning them made them burn with pain. “oh, nothing, just went a bit too hard at training.”

it didn’t occur to her not to believe him until she was staring blankly at the last question of her exam.

she thought of the evil boy in the cafe, of toji staring down into the darkness and looking over his shoulder as if demons were just behind them, and he was the only thing keeping them at bay. maybe he really was doing just that. maybe that’s why he had continued to walk her home every night, as their graphs continued to overlap even more closely together.

she came out of that exam feeling as if some sort of hidden revelation was waiting to be discovered, and by god, how much she loved to solve for a new equation.

toji was already waiting for her at the cafe when she arrived for her shift, an occurrence steadily getting earlier. he immediately took note of her coming in, and his eyes lit up. she smiled brightly at him, offering him two thumbs up, to which he grinned and pushed away his laptop before approached her.

“so, it went well then?” he prompted, the ghost of a smile still playing on his lips.

she poured them both two mugs of tea, and held hers out towards him. “yeah, it wasn’t too bad actually. cheers to that!”

toji chuckled and clinked his mug with hers, the both of them blowing on the tea before sipping it tentatively. he went back to his table, resuming whatever he had been doing, and leaving her to serve the customers. that was perhaps the only drawback of toji arriving earlier - that their time spent together was interrupted. but it also served as a tantalizing countdown to when it was just the two of them.

obviously, their dynamic had shifted dramatically in the past week, and they’d settled into an easy-flowing sequence – something that felt as if phi would be, so perfectly balanced and positively golden. toji seemed to want to unveil the mystery of his equation to her, but bit by bit, which she didn’t mind at all. she loved slowing figuring out the scale of his axes, plotting all his points together, and finally drawing the curve that connected them all.

toji fushiguro could only be described as steady, a mountain that would never bend or break, his roots so profoundly deep that she had to really dig to see them.

he loved his body, but not in a superficial way, but more that it was something he was in control of and could continually improve. she discovered that he drank green tea not just because it was healthy, but because it was cheap. how most of his gym wear had varying sizes of holes, and he carried around a tiny sewing kit in his bag at all times because he sometimes only noticed one when he was out and about.

most importantly, today he had divulged what he wanted for his future.

“i want to get out of this hellhole as soon as i can,” toji had sighed exaggeratedly, stretching his neck backwards. whenever the last customer had left the cafe, he’d drag a chair over to the edge of the counter. not so directly in front of it that he was blocking any customers, but just enough so that they were sitting across from each other.

she rolled her eyes playfully at him, nibbling at the cap of her pen. “oh, how original. you and every other student in this university.”

“well yeah, obviously, but not as much as me,” he retorted.

“what make you so different, then?”

“i’ve always wanted to leave, even before i got here. i want to to go and live in tokyo.”

“tokyo, huh? and what do you wanna do there?”

“well, eventually i want to open my own dojo and teach jujitsu, but i’d probably have to start out as an instructor.”

“oh wow, you’ve got a solid sort of plan. have you always wanted to do that?”

“yeah, i really hate it here.”

and he’d gone quiet, but she didn’t press him. instead, she focused on her textbook because there were still exams to be studied for, and waited for toji to come back to her. where he went in those moments, she didn’t know. there was something lurking in the shadow of the mountain, and he still seemed to be fighting against it even now.

she knew he’d come back to her when he’d lean in closer, cheek against his palm, and try to make sense of whatever diagrams appeared on the pages she was reading.

“that looks cool,” toji murmured, pointing at whatever had piqued his interest. “what is it?”

and she discovered, not that it was a real shock, that toji was so very curious. he wanted to know things, he liked to know how things worked, and he was really clever. she would explain as best as she could, and toji would follow along diligently, nodding his head every so often and asking the occasional question. many people probably underestimated just how smart he really was, but she never did.

“this is a diagram that sort of shows what einstein’s theory of general relativity is all about.”

“ah right, it’s pretty famous then isn’t it? cuz it’s einstein's.”

“haha, i suppose so, yeah.”

“what’s it about?”

she bit her lip and tilted her head, placing her finger as a makeshift bookmark and closed the book between her fingers. “it’s about… how really big objects like planets and stars cause gravity by bending space-time.”

“bending space-time is gravity?”

“it’s because the bigger object has caused smaller ones to be pulled closer to it, if that makes sense.”

toji nodded slowly and laughed. “it’s a bit over my head. how you perfectly understand it is beyond me though.”

“i wouldn’t say perfectly,” she replied bashfully. “but i think it’s a beautiful theory.”

“you think every theory is beautiful.”

“haha! no, well yes, but that’s besides the point!”

“well, what is the point?”

“that something has had such a profound impact, because it’s so big and larger than life that it’s impacting all the other small things around it and pulling them in closer to it.”

toji smiled, the kind of smile he had when he was more vulnerable and soft, when his barriers were down and forgotten about. the way he looked at her made her body jolt with thousands of little lightning bolts.

“yeah,” he mused thoughtfully. “yeah, that is kinda beautiful.”

| Φ |

five days.

that’s how long it had been since she’d seen toji, and she missed him more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

it wasn’t ideal, right smack in the middle of the exam season, to be so distracted by a boy, but toji fushiguro wasn’t just any boy. he was the boy who she spent every day with, and the past two weeks had been a rosy dream as they talked more and more. it was now the middle of may, and she was almost done with sitting all of her exams. she should have been thinking of her future, about a solid career plan, and where she wanted to live.

but no, all she could think of was the laws of physics and toji fushiguro, and counting down the days until she could see him again.

he was currently out on a placement excursion, teaching ten-year-old kids during their regular sports curriculum. it was almost comical, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself whenever she thought of toji surrounded by a bunch of wide-eyed children. he’d already been groaning about it before he left, about this and that, and how much he didn’t like silly kids and their silly faces.

“what are you smiling about?” one of her friends whispered suspiciously, leaning in closer to her so as not to disturb anybody else in the library.

she shook her head, and told a little lie, “oh, just about how close we are to finishing uni. it’s sort of unbelievable.”

her friend raised a brow, clearly not believing her. “sure, and it doesn’t have anything to do with fushiguro?”

“ugh, why do you keep bringing him up all the time? i told you there’s nothing going on there.”

“i’ll believe that when i stop seeing you smiling like an idiot in love. now, c’mon and focus on this.”

love?

no, no. it wasn’t love.

not quite yet, at least, but she knew it was getting there.

she felt a slight tremor in her chest, traveling all the way to the tips of her fingers and then the ends of her toes like an electric current across a wire. it was unfathomably scary to admit it, but it was nothing but the truth.

she was falling for toji fushiguro.

she ducked her head down, her pencil scratching against her notepad as she attempted yet another sample question, endeavouring to distract herself from all thoughts of him for the rest of the study session. as soon as she had to leave for the cafe, she practically shoved her things into her bag and almost ran towards it. toji should be back today, with it being friday and the school week coming to an end.

when she got there, her manager was behind the counter in the midst of serving a customer, and the cafe was reasonably busy. the overwhelming aroma of coffee wafted through her nose, warm and inviting, and familiar. she wondered if toji thought of her whenever he smelt coffee.

she certainly hoped that he did.

“great you’re here,” her manager beamed, handing her an apron to tie around her waist. “i was wondering if you would like to take some time off whenever you finish your exams? my nephew is coming to visit, and i’d like to put him to work instead of him lazing about all day.”

she was immediately hit with a sheer sense of panic. if she didn’t work, then how else was she supposed to see toji? it was so utterly embarrassing and pathetic, that she was so enamored with this boy that she was willing to work just to see him. but then she thought about what would happen after graduation, and how they realistically would not be seeing each other – perhaps ever again.

“sure, that’s alright with me,” is what she finally said after a moment's hesitation, but her manager obviously picked up on her hesitant tone.

“never have i ever seen a student who didn’t want time off work,” they chuckled, hand on their hip. “this has got to do with that dark haired boy, doesn’t it?”

heat creeped up into her cheeks, and she busied herself with pouring a cup of coffee for a customer, as her manager gazed at her in bemusement. “no,” she squeaked out.

“oh to be young again,” they said in a sing-song voice. “don’t worry about not working though, i’m sure that boy would follow you anywhere you go. i’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

she didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

when the moon had risen high into the sky and the shop was empty, she waited and waited for toji. he was late, and he should have been there by now. or maybe he wouldn’t come? she thought it might have been quite bold to assume he would have tonight. he was probably tired from a whole week of teaching, and maybe he had decided to just go home and rest. she couldn’t blame him for that.

but that didn’t stop the soul-crushing disappointment from tearing her in two.

the sky must have felt her distress, because soon enough the pitter-patter of rain falling against the roof ensued. maybe metaphysical pain was real, and maybe she would spend her whole life trying to prove her theory. what a tragic future, she thought, and sniffled as she locked the door behind her.

and then she turned around, and toji was standing there, his chest heaving.

for a moment, they just faced each other. he was all wet, black hoodie all soggy and weighed down, sticking to him like a second skin. his green eyes were alight, looking at her with a mixture of nerves and something else she couldn’t place. toji exhaled shakily, his lashes fluttering as he blinked fast.

“sorry,” he mumbled. “i tried to get here sooner, but there was an accident and my train was delayed.”

her heart melted; she felt as if she was one with the rain puddles in the dips of the pavement, one with the water pooling beneath toji’s feat. could it be love already? maybe her loved ones, wiser and older than her would have said it was, but she felt too young to know it.

and yet, here was a boy standing in front of her, who had run through the rain and labyrinth of buildings to get here.

“oh, toji,” she gushed, instinctively opening up her umbrella and shielding him from the torrent of the sky. “you’ll get sick.”

she didn’t realize just how close they were together, trapped underneath the tiny space, until toji was staring down at her. a water droplet dropped from his hair, over the ridge of his nose, caressing over his cupids bow and parted lips, all the way down to his chin and onto her lip.

she shivered, feeling as if their lips may as well have touched.

“it doesn’t matter,” toji whispered, in that deep, almost sad tone that belonged only to him, and she finally admitted internally just how much she missed his voice. “it’s only water.”

they stood there staring at each other for a heartbeat too long, until she broke the silence with, “let’s get out of here.”

and then they set off at a slow, shuffling pace, the backs of their hands and shoulders brushing against each other, and she thought a live spark might just ignite off her skin. the rain sounded like little stones tumbling off the top of the umbrella, and the smell of the wet pavement served as little momentary distractions against the all-consuming feeling of toji beside her.

she didn’t want it to end, and so when they reached the entrance to her accommodation, and turned to face him. “you can’t go home like this. do you want to come inside and dry off?”

toji’s eyebrows shot up, and he almost looked like a deer in the headlights. he was fighting within himself; she could see it in the way his hand flexed, his knuckle touching hers. “i’ll just make your floor wet though,” he muttered, looking down at the ground.

“it doesn’t matter,” she urged, and added a desperate. “please.”

that seemed to snap him out of whatever internal deliberation he was having, and toji nodded. “okay then.”

she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, almost immediately turning towards the door to hide most of it from him, taking out the keys from her pocket and fumbled with one hand to grab the correct one for her door. his proximity behind her was beyond distracting, her back felt like the south side of a magnet, and toji was her north. it would be too easy to fall back into him, and so she endeavored to root her feet into the ground and resist the urge.

she finally opened it and they passed through the unwelcoming vibes of the main lobby, toji’s shoes squelching loudly with every step he took. the student behind the desk glancing uninterestedly up at them, and then sharply looked back up, staring with saucer eyes at toji in tow behind her.

she once again fought with her keys, the sound echoing throughout the empty corridor, and pushed open the door to her shared dorm. it was compact but efficient for two people to live comfortably together. her flatmate was curled up on the sofa with her boyfriend, shui, in the main living area, only lit up by whatever was on the tv.

“roomie!” her roommate called out, oblivious to toji’s presence. “how was studying today?”

“yeah, great,” she answered, glancing back at toji awkwardly standing by the door. “you?”

“all goo- oh! oh. hello there!” her roommate finally registered toji’s presence as the door clicked shut behind him, immediately jumping out of shiu’s arms, who also looked back over his shoulder in intrigue.

“hey,” toji mumbled, a puddle of water now collecting over the white tiles.

shiu waved his hand at toji, who flicked his chin upwards in acknowledgment. she immediately turned to her roommate, “hey, you think you have something from shui’s he could borrow?”

her roommate sprung into action, scrambling off the sofa. “yeah, yeah! sorry! i’ll be right back.”

toji remained where he was, stationary as a rock, his emerald orbs flicking every which way. she wondered what he was thinking, but she was too consumed by the monumental event that he was really standing there in her living room to dwell on it.

her roommate burst out of her room, smiling brightly as she handled a bundle of clothes to toji. “there you go! the bathroom’s just to the left there.”

he strode straight to the bathroom, his eyes meeting hers just before he closed the door.

“girl,” her roommate excitedly whispered, vigorously grabbing her forearms. “what the- what is going on? i didn’t know you and fushiguro were together.”

“we’re not together,” she rebuked, biting her lip. “we’re just… friends.”

her roommate scoffed, nearly bouncing up and down in glee. “shiu, you know this is the first time she’d brought a boy home.”

shiu hummed quietly, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips. “that’s great, babe.”

her roommate scoffed, rolling her eyes at him, and her grip tightened just a fraction. “is he spending the night? oh my god, you both should stay and watch a movie with us.”

“oh, i don’t think he’ll stay…”

“girl, just go and get changed into something else, and i’ll talk to him when he comes out. you know people can’t say no to me.”

before she knew it, she was being pushed into her room, and the door was slammed behind her. she breathed out shakily, sliding against her wardrobe with her head in her hands. her heart was racing, and fuck fuck fuck, what the hell was she thinking bringing toji here?

she heard the bathroom door open, and the quiet baritone of toji’s voice mingled with her roommate's bubbly one. the words ‘pizza’ and ‘movie’ were mentioned, and she rushed to shimmy off her clothes and into her slightly better-looking loungewear, checking her hair was presentable enough. when she quietly opened her door, toji had his back towards her, wearing a black t-shirt that was a size too small and grey joggers that hugged his thick thighs.

he turned to face her, and the tense look on his face relaxed. her roommate piped up from the sofa, “hey! i was just saying that toji should stay and watch a movie with us while his clothes dry.”

she bit the inside of her cheek, and softly said to him, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

toji looked between her and her roommate, before replying with a low, “i’ll stay.”

her roommate clapped her hands together. “great! i’ll order the pizza.”

she walked over to the adjacent sofa to shiu, and hesitantly sat down on one edge of the sofa. toji followed and lowered himself onto the other empty side, leaving a space of everything and nothing between them. soon enough, her roommate returned and plonked herself right in between shiu’s spread legs, shuffling through the channels until she settled on a movie. the pizza arrived some time into the movie, and the four of them helped themselves. she couldn’t help but steal glances at toji, his face illuminated by the tv's glow as he brought a cheesy slice of pizza to his mouth, his expression blank and unreadable.

whatever way the angels must be solving her cosmic equation, they were obviously applying toji’s formula. their numbers were intertwining, creating a new constant, and she wondered what sort of symbol would represent the two of them.

toji met her gaze, and the corner of his lip curled upward.

after the movie had ended, her roommate had ushered a bemused shiu into her room and wiggled her fingers in an excited goodbye. “shh,” she’d giggled, while shiu rolled his eyes at her, tugging on the sleeve of her pyjama top. “don’t make too much noise, you two.”

and with that, she shut the door, leaving them alone.

together.

in her living room, on the same sofa.

“do you, uh, want to watch something else?” she murmured, her legs folded beneath her.

toji breathed out a quiet laugh. “please. i’m sorry, but that movie was actually so bad.”

she nearly snorted, clapping her hand over her mouth in an effort to contain her giggle. “yeah, it was pretty shit.”

the clock above the tv read 1:42 a.m., and she wondered if toji was tired. she assumed he would be after waking up so early to teach a bunch of energetic children. “you want some tea? i was just going to make some,” she asked, her ankles cracking as she rose from the sofa.

toji slapped his thighs, and steadily got up as well. “sure, but i should really get going soon. i don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“spend the night,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “none of us would mind, i promise.”

she then stupidly, pathetically even, held out her pinky towards him. toji frowned, clearly confused. “what are you doing?”

“a pinky promise.”

“oh right, yeah.”

he curled his pinky around hers, and a tiny electric shock sparked between them. she hissed and drew her hand back, but their eyes met, and they both erupted into a fit of hushed giggles, which only served to make them laugh harder.

“okay, you stick something on tv and i’ll make the tea,” she grinned, her bare feet softly padding on the floor as she went over to the kitchen.

as the kettle boiled, she watched toji flicking aimlessly through the channels, his face contorting when he came across something he didn’t like. he settled back onto the sofa, legs spread out as he reclined, mop of thick hair resting against the armrest. the shock of having him her in her home had faded now, and it felt almost natural for them to be around each other in this way. she brought over his mug filled with green tea, and he looked up at her gratefully as he took it from her. she sat down on the other sofa, stretching her legs out. toji’s eyes were slightly red, and he was yawning great big yawns, with the mug delicately balanced on his chest and one arm behind his head. the tv was on a low volume, and she wanted to pause time, even just for a while.

“hey, just lemme know when you wanna sleep. you can sleep in my room,” she murmured, hands grasping both sides of her mug, feet rubbing against each other.

toji looked over at her, a scowl playing on his features. “and where are you going to sleep, the sofa?”

“well, yeah.”

“no.”

“but you’re the guest!”

“shut up, no.”

“bu-”

“no.”

she huffed playfully, throwing a hand up in surrender, to which toji smirked at. they sat in comfortable silence, watching some silly competition show play on. despite the tea, she could feel herself becoming sleepier by the minute. she looked over at toji, who seemed perfectly content to lie there and watch the contestants make complete fools of themselves.

“bet that guy’s gonna fall off,” he mumbled, his arms folded over his chest. she only hummed in response, her cheek squished against a pillow, and toji grunted, “you the sleepy one now?”

she laughed, which interrupted her yawn. “maybe.”

“go to sleep then. don’t stay up for me.”

oh, how much he didn’t know about how long she would stay up for him, and how long she would really wait. but she couldn’t say anything except, “you sure?”

“yeah, yeah, i’m cool here.”

“hold on, lemme get you a blanket and pillow before i go.”

she returned promptly with them, kneeling down to place them on the floor beside him. when she looked up, she didn’t realize just how close his face was to hers. toji’s eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.

she gulped.

“good night,” he whispered.

“night,” was all she could muster before overcoming the magnetism between them and walking away.

| Φ |

the final stretch.

a flurry of pens on paper, pounding hearts, a tripwire of nerves, and then…

“time’s up! everyone please put down your pens. the exam is officially concluded.”

she leaned back in her seat, a sheer sense of awe crawling over her. this was it, she was done. her last university exam, all of it was finally over after three long years. her fellow students were of similar sentiment, with wide, nervous smiles, as if they all couldn’t really believe this was happening, as the smacks of numerous pats on the back reverberated through the hall.

the sun was shining on her face as she exited the exam hall, warm and inviting, promising that the hope for the future wasn’t unfounded. they were all high on life, with the thought that the world was their oyster, and they would all be lucky enough to find their own pearls.

“oh my god,” her friend groaned exaggeratedly, hands on her knees as if she’d just run a marathon. “it’s over.”

"yeah, it is," she hummed in agreement, basking in the sheer awe of the moment.

her friend barked out a laugh and clasped her hands together. “right then, i’m going to get ready for the party tonight. you are coming, right?”

“yeah of course,” she confirmed, shocking even herself that she would be going out. “we can only celebrate this once.”

her friend squealed, pulling her into a big hug before breaking away and trotting off. “bring fushiguro! maybe you both can get drunk and finally kiss,” she called out over her shoulder.

a few students looked over at her, and the embarrassment was almost crushing. she’d come to understand now that everyone on campus knew who toji fushiguro was. he was renowned for his adonis figure, the kind of handsome that only existed in fiction, and the fact he most certainly wasn’t associated with any girls or went to any parties.

until perhaps now, of course.

later that night at the cafe, as she fidgeted at her spot behind the counter, she plucked up the courage to ask toji, “so, you can totally say no if you don’t want to come, but there’s a party that’s happening in my building to celebrate the end of exams.”

toji looked up from reading her quantum mechanics textbook she had brought and grunted, “a party, huh. you going?”

“yeah, i’ll be heading over after closing up,” she replied, a bit deflated that he hadn’t seemed to notice she had dressed up quite a bit from her usual attire.

he hummed, nodded, and went back to reading. “i’ll see how i feel.”

that was no definitive reply, and she picked apart his usual baritone and analyzed in her mind as she went through a back-and-forth internal debate, trying to deduce some sort of meaning from it. she’d arrived to the party about an hour ago, and she was still thinking about it as she sipped away at some fruit-flavored punch that was far too delicious and dangerous for someone who didn't really drink. her lips were already numb, and the creeping giddiness was making her feel the joyousness of all that life is and would be.

her course mates had their arms around her shoulders, all of them loudly singing, more slurring really, in a circle to whatever song was thumping through the speakers. a part of her wanted to loose herself in the silliness of it all; it gave her courage and made her seem capable of things she would never have even dreamed of sober.

“oh my- don’t look, but fushiguro is actually here,” her friend slurred through her ear, nearly shouting and sending a ringing noise piercing through her eardrum.

she turned around, and sure enough, there was toji fushiguro pushing his way through the throng of students dancing in the cramped apartment they had decided to congregate in. his green eyes met hers, and relief ran over his features. it was cheesy, as well as completely impossible, but time seemed stretch and distort, slowing to a crawl the closer he got to her. her friend released her from the circle, giving her a calculated shove and sending her stumbling over her own feet.

straight into toji’s waiting arms.

“oh, fuck,” he shouted as he caught her, holding her forearms in a firm grip. “you okay?”

she stared up at him, the alcohol running through her blood making her lips spread into a big, dopey smile, and giggled, “yeah, you’re here.”

she could have sworn the tips of his ears turned pink, but the flashing, multicoloured lights made it too hard to make it out properly. it took her far too long to realize that toji still hadn’t let go of her arms, even as her punch had spilled on them both, and as even more people stared and bumped into them.

“you want a drink?” she shouted, standing up on her tiptoes to reach his ear.

toji grimaced. “no thanks, i don’t drink.”

“oh yeah, you’re a proper athlete and all,” she hiccuped, her body flushing with heat and the sound of the music.

he only laughed at that, his emerald eyes twinkling with possibilities.

| Φ |

“be careful,” toji hissed as he quickly moved to steady her as she tripped over the doorway into her dorm. “jesus, you’re a mess.”

“i-hiccup! no, no i’m a ss-shtar,” she wallowed, chuckling madly at her own antics. “ssstar! star.”

“yes, yes, a star, definitely,” toji mumbled, closing the door behind them, and maneuvering her securely along with him.

“hehe, am i youuuur star, toji?” she giggled, her legs giving out from underneath her, suddenly turning into jelly.

he snorted, using her strength to lift her off the floor and into his arms. “yes, you are. now c’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

her head rolled against his chest, her head swimming in a pool of red stars and blue moons, all of them circulating around a green sun. “go onnn, you have to say i’m yo-hiccup-ur star!”

“you’re my star. now c’mon, get into bed.”

as soon as he laid her underneath her duvet, her head started to pound and swirl the moment she closed her eyes. her stomach lurched like she was actually free-falling, and she groaned loudly. toji kneeled down in front of her, his face oh so very close to hers.

“what’s wrong? you wanna get sick?” he asked, forest eyes deep and ethereal as they took in her probably smeared makeup.

“i close my eyes and it feels bad,” she mumbled, feeling childish as her silliness became too much for even her not-so-sober state to listen to.

toji settled into a more comfortable sitting position, and she could feel his breath caressing her face. “tell me about something then, don’t think about it.”

“like-hiccup what?”

“anything. talk to me about stars, or whatever.”

“stars, really? okay… did you know, that there’s -hic- all different colors?”

“no, i didn’t actually. why’s there so many?”

“cuz they’re all different temperatures, that’s why.”

“that’s really cool. tell me about all the colors.”

“ohh, well there’s blue stars, those're the hottest one. and then there’s…”

| Φ |

she woke up to a throbbing headache and a burning stomach.

her eyes ached as light filtered through the opaque grey curtains of the window, and the white wall beside her bed was the first thing she saw when she finally peeked her eyes open. it was dreadfully plain and uninteresting, but rolling over to the other side to avoid it was another sort of unnecessarily difficult task.

she almost threw up when she saw toji lying there on the floor.

“toji?” she whispered urgently. “toji?! are you awake?”

he grunted in annoyance and rolled over to face her, his midnight hair all messy on a pillow he had procured from who knows where, although there was no blanket to be seen. the scarred side of his lip twitching as he flitted somewhere in between the realm of dreams and sleep.

oh how her heart was absolutely swooning at the sight.

she smiled to herself, quietly watching him sleep and quickly forgetting about how ill she felt, because none of that mattered. only that she could hear the scratching of quills, ruffling feathers, and the soft music playing, telling her that this was it.

she was in love with toji fushiguro.

there was no other way around it.

no more denying it to herself or anyone else – she loved him.

the boy who slept on a rock-hard floor beside her all night, listening to her drunk and probably terrible explanations about stars and who knows what else.

green orbs peeked out from hooded lids, and toji mumbled, “what’re you lookin at?”

she bit her lip, trying to contain her giddiness at her own sudden revelation, and reached over to poke his hand. “you. why didn’t you sleep on the sofa?”

toji's eyes fully opened, and he grabbed her finger and tugged gently. “cause, what if you needed to get sick and tripped in the dark? you might be a star, but you don’t actually shine, you know?”

“hah, you’re hilarious,” she retorted, letting him waggle her finger with his hand. “what else did i say, then?”

“that i’m the nicest person on earth for staying with you, and that i deserve free green tea from now on.”

“chancer, i definitely didn’t.”

“but how do you know you definitely didn’t?”

a loud knock at her door jolted them both out of their banter, and her roommate belted from the other side, “oi, lovebirds! we’re all going to get breakfast, want to come with?”

she looked expectantly at toji, who shrugged and mouthed ‘sure’, and answered back, “yeah, be out in a sec!”

“lovebirds, huh?” toji mumbled, as he intertwined their fingers, the corner of his lip curling upwards.

oh, angels in heaven above…

“shut up.”

| Φ |

the month of june was of blue skies and scorching pavements.

of far too many melted vanilla and matcha ice-creams dripping onto their clothes. of heat mirages and the cool, sweet relief of air-conditioned cafes and shopping malls. of lying on dried-out, yellowed grass at night, their sweaty hands firmly holding each other, while looking up at the midnight sky and divulging all their deepest secrets.

it was when she learned how toji got the scar on his lip.

he was twiddling with the hem of her baby pink t-shirt, not quite looking at her. “my cousins used to bully me when i was a kid,” he admitted quietly.

her gaze snapped over to him, soul aching for him. “toji, that’s awful.”

birds twittered loudly in a nearby tree.

then, it was quiet for a while.

she didn’t know what to say really, except, “did you tell anyone?”

toji shook his head, trailing a finger up and down her bare arm. “my parents kinda dismissed it like it wasn’t happening. i think they didn’t want to stir things within the family, even when the fuckers took it too far one day and caused this."

he paused, took a shaky breath, and with a voice tinged with bitterness he continued, “they held me down and threatened me with razor blades, and one of 'em accidentally slipped.”

“i’m so sorry,” she whispered, not knowing quite else to say, and rolled over onto her side to face him.

“it’s alright, i’m over it,” toji mumbled, returning to lying on his back, his arm behind his head. “but it’s why i've been studying so hard, so i can get the hell out of here. my family lives quite close by, you see.”

“right, and tokyo is about as far away as you can get.”

“yeah, pretty much.”

“and that’s why you didn’t speak to anyone at uni. you knew you'd just be moving on anyways, so there was no point making friends."

“mhm.”

she chewed the inside of her cheek. “so, what made me different?”

toji turned his head to face her, his gaze holding a gentleness she'd never seen before, “because… you’re you,” he said, as if that alone would explain everything.

she looked away, staring up at the sky again. it was silent for some time before she finally asked, “have i ever explained what quantum entanglement is to you before?”

“don’t think so, but go on.”

“it’s when two particles are so deeply connected, that it doesn’t matter even if they’re separated. the connection will always be there, and they’ll always affect each other. the distance between them doesn't matter either, because they still belong to each other.”

toji was quiet for a long time.

she wondered if he understood the deeper meaning behind what she was actually trying to say. she had never explicitly said to him that she loved him, and perhaps this was the only way she could say it - in the only way she knew how to. it was too late to turn back now anyway.

suddenly, toji pushed his upper body off the ground and sat upwards, his back turned to her.

he was breathing fast, too fast, and her heart started to beat frantically.

“toji?” she called out, fear lacing her words, her heart breaking in two at the mere thought of him rejecting all of this this – rejecting her.

toji turned to her, and whispered with glossy eyes, his words almost barely audible, “it’s you. it’s you. it’s you, and i love you.”

with that, he practically fell on top of her, their lips finally meeting in what seemed like an inevitable occurrence. like an eclipse or the death of a star, but none of that mattered. because here she was, with toji fushiguro.

and he loved her.

he loved her, as her lips parted for him and their tongues swirled together, and she thought he tasted of vanilla.

she loved him, as he tenderly held the back of her head, and she melted into him like the ice creams they savoured every day.

they loved each other, as their hands dipped underneath their shirts, exploring the dips and valleys of each other's bodies.

the universe was never more perfect than in that very moment.

| Φ |

the very next week, they went on their first official date.

“i’ll swing by your place at eight o’clock, is that okay?” toji asked her over the phone, as she lazed about in her bed in a dream-like, rosy trance.

she hummed, rolling onto her back and kicking her legs in the air. “sure. what are we doing?”

“never you mind your brilliant little head about it. just be ready, okay?”

“hehe, okay.”

“okay, i’ll see you later… i love you.”

“i love you too.”

with that, he ended the call, and she was left counting down the hours until she would see him. she got ready in good time, being careful to shave every bit of hair on her body, being meticulous as she plucked her brows perfectly. she hadn’t thought of sex since her subpar experience with it during her first year, and had since locked it out of her mind. not that she even thought they would be doing something like that.

at least, not until she had spied a box of condoms under the bathroom sink cabinet.

and now, it was all she could think about.

just after eight p.m., there was a prompt knock on the door, and she breathed out shakily before opening it. and there was her boy, her toji, holding a bouquet of half a dozen red roses, with a blush gracing his cheeks nearly as colorful as the blooms in his hands.

“hey,” he greeted with a handsome, crooked smile, his eyes sweeping up and down her figure. “you look beautiful. i hope you like italian food.”

and all her bundle of nerves dissipated. “yeah,” she replied breathlessly. “i do.”

toji took her to a small restaurant not too far from her dorm, roughly a fifteen-minute walk away. it was quirky, with cobblestone walls and a warm ambience, designed really for students with not much money in their pockets.

but it was just perfect.

it was natural, the way it was always meant to be. with her sitting there in a dainty summer dress, and toji in his usual black t-shirt and jeans, who was looking at her like she was his whole universe.

after they were done with their meal, he’d shooed her away from even trying to pay for the bill, which he took care of in battered notes and loose change. then, they walked hand in hand in the warm summer breeze back to her dorm. she prattled on excitedly about how she was looking for internships at various firms in tokyo, and toji was smiling as he listened to her finally start to figure out the answers to her future equation.

though, maybe not just her future.

they finally entered the safe space of her dorm, her roommates absence filling it with a sad eeriness. she looked at him shyly, fiddling with her fingers behind her back, and asked, “you want some tea?”

toji hummed, taking his shoes off at the door. “sure, thanks.”

she was grateful he said yes, it gave her something to do with her shaky hands. she reached upwards to the cabinet to grab their mugs. the two twin beige, somewhat grey, mugs that always sat beside each other. they clinked loudly against the counter, and she flicked the kettle switch on.

and then, toji’s warm hands were on her hips, and her mind went blank.

“i love you,” he mumbled, his lips soft and wet as they trailed against the curve of her neck. “you’re my star, and i love you.”

he was repeating ‘i love you’ like a mantra he couldn’t quite believe was true, and even a part of her was still amazed that it actually was. she turned to face him, tea well and truly forgotten about, and wrapped her arms around his neck to place her lips between his. toji hummed gently into her mouth, his hands sliding down to grip her behind, pulling her closer into him.

it was a nebula explosion after that.

a stumbling mess of them making their way to her bedroom with their lips interlocked, bodies pressed close together as they ripped their clothes off each other. giggling like naughty children when she struggled to tug her dress off.

“you’re hopeless,” toji groaned playfully, tapping her nose with his finger, before smoothly sliding her dress from her body.

she pouted, crossing her arms over her bare chest. “am not.”

he shushed her softly, pulling her into him once more in a fiery kiss, and they fell gently onto the bed. toji kneaded her breasts, eliciting a moan from her as his mouth traveled slowly from her lips, down to her neck and caressing her collarbone, flicking her hard nipple with his tongue.

“hmm, you feelin good, baby?” toji murmured, looking up at her with hooded lids, forest eyes blazing with desire reserved just for her. “not too much?”

"n-no," she stuttered, fisting his black locks between her fingers, scratching the back of his scalp and making him groan.

toji parted his lips, his breath blowing softly and tickling her nipple, and she shivered and slightly arched her back in anticipation. he teased her with his tongue, licking her hard bud with a featherlight touch, and she gasped, “toji, please.”

with that, he took her nipple in his mouth, steaming hot and so wet as his tongue swirled around it. she moaned loudly, arching herself into his body, and he placed a strong hand on the small of her back to pull her in.

she thought that if toji pulled her in any closer, they would surely melt into each other and become one.

her legs parted of their own accord, and her hips were pure instinct as she ground her slick pussy on his thigh, the ridges of the powerful muscle stimulating her perfectly and sending jolts of pleasure through her core. toji smiled against her nipple, giving it one last suck, letting it go with a dirty pop! and traveled back up to her face, his lips brushing hers.

“who knew,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses along the bridge of her nose. “that all this would happen from drinking green tea.”

she giggled, and held his face in her hands, bringing his lips back home to hers. “i need you, toji,” she breathed out, breaking their kiss. “can i have you?”

toji smiled, touched his forehead to hers and murmured, “you can always have me, sweetheart. tell me what you want.”

“i want you,” she begged, her arousal making her more mindlessly desperate by the second. “i’m yours, toji. make me yours.”

he snapped.

his lips captured hers once more in a searing kiss so molten hot, she was sure she would burn and be consumed by his fire. toji’s hands moved down to himself, freeing his hard cock from his boxers with a little slap noise as it hit against her lower stomach. he pressed his hips into her and settled in between her legs, his hard and flushed dick feeling a thousand times hotter against her skin than his lips did.

toji moved his hips, his cock wetting against her folds, the slick sounds lewd and utterly intoxicating, as he pushed further into her with every back and forth motion.

further.

and further.

she moaned loudly as he finally sunk deep into her wet walls, painfully slow and deliciously agonising.

“oh, fuck baby,” toji groaned, his face in her neck, as he buried himself to the hilt. “you’re -ah!- so fuckin beautiful. my beautiful girl.”

her nails dug into his shoulder, and toji bent her legs to fold them, rutting further into her. she whined at the deeper connection, feeling his cock flex inside her. he stilled with their chests pressed tightly together, and she could feel his heart pumping hard.

“t-toji,” she gasped, throwing her head back as she felt his balls against the curve of her ass.

the tip of his dick rubbing against that spongy spot that made her see stars behind her eyelids. he started shallowly thrusting, deliberately slow, holding her head so lovingly she felt she was going to burst.

this was heaven, she thought.

toji was heaven – her phi.

the golden ratio, found in all remarkable and beautiful things on the planet.

all her life, all the combinations of numbers, formulas, and sequences had to have been carefully calculated to lead up to him, to this moment.

toji sucked and kissed just below her ear, his muscled thighs flexing as he increased the pace just a fraction, and she clenched around him, feeling the veins of his cock rubbing exquisitely inside her. she tightly squeezed his bicep as the sounds of her squelching pussy and slapping of their bodies going plap! plap! plap! filled the room, and the smell of sex and toji wafted through her nose.

“look at us,” he cooed, stroking her cheek. “makin such a mess on your bed.”

she looked down to where their bodies met, and sure enough, there was a ring of white cream at the base of toji’s cock pumping in and out of her, dripping messily down onto a damp spot on the bedsheets beneath them. his toned abs had a thin sheen of sweat, and they flexed and rippled as he really started to pound into her.

her pussy clenched around him again at the thought of him chasing his pleasure high from her body, and she kissed him fervently. toji moaned into her mouth, his balls tightening more and more. her orgasm was exponentially building, like the pressure of boiling water molecules hitting against the walls of a sealed container.

“let go, baby” toji murmured huskily, his hips snapping at an even faster pace. “let go.”

and she did, throwing her head back and almost screaming, her legs shaking violently.

a supernova imploded somewhere at the other end of a distant universe. stars flew across the blackness behind her squeezed-shut eyelids, leaving behind a glittering trail of stardust. toji groaned into her neck, and she felt hot ropes of his cum spurt against her walls, his legs the only thing powering his body through his high.

she wrapped her arms around his neck as he stilled, half-hard cock still plugged inside her. they were huffing and panting into each other, their shared sweat making them stick to each other.

“i love you,” toji whispered, full of reverence, full of life.

she kissed him softly, rubbing their noses together. “i love you too.”

| Φ |

it was early july now; their exam results had been released, and graduations were finally right around the corner.

“you should go toji!” she exclaimed, cupping her mug of lukewarm tea with both hands, watching him intently from her spot on the sofa as he did some stretches. “you’ve worked so hard for this.”

he grunted, but from effort or annoyance, she couldn’t tell. “i can’t be bothered, seriously, and i’m not interested in standing on a stage and be the only person without parents cheering them on.”

she didn’t press it further after that.

instead, she cast one last longing look at his muscles rippling as he stretched, and resumed perusing through internship advertisements on her laptop.

they had settled into an oddly domestic routine for the past few weeks. she would work in the cafe during the day, while toji trained ever harder at the gym. he would swing by and pick her up as she finished her shift in the early hours of the afternoon, and they would cook dinner and hang around the dorm. the weather was getting far too hot for leisurely walks during the day, and so they had mostly passed the time by making love and talking about everything and anything at all.

toji kissed the top of her head, squatting behind her, quite clearly finished with his stretches as his eyes skimmed over the tab open on her laptop. “still nothin, baby?”

she sighed, rubbing his hand that was gently massaging her shoulders. “no.”

“you’ll find something, don’t worry. it’ll happen. let’s just focus on celebrating your graduation next week.”

her graduation.

she still couldn’t believe it.

next week, she would be graduating, and the week after that, saying goodbye to her accommodation – her home – for the last three years of her life. saying farewell to her manager and the little cafe that had been so good to her, and not just because it had brought her and toji together. the stress was mounting to find something, anything, in tokyo, because she refused to even entertain the idea of going backwards and returning home.

and because she absolutely could not bear to be so far away from toji either.

the thought alone was soul-crushing.

she heard the shower faucet running in the bathroom, and a wave of loneliness hit her. why exactly, she wasn’t sure, but she chased after toji into the bathroom.

he stared as she burst in, a thick brow raised in startled confusion, as soap suds trickled down his face and back. “what? you find somethin?”

clothes be damned, she stepped into the shower and kissed him with all the energy and emotion she could muster. toji was taken aback for a second, hesitatingly circling his arms around her, and then melting into her.

it was then that she decided.

she would rather her body combust, and all her atoms disperse into the atmosphere before even trying to live without toji fushiguro.

| Φ |

it was the night before her graduation, and she was a nervous wreck.

“oh, toji,” she gushed, dipping the razor she was holding into a bowl of soapy water and giving it a little shake. “i hate getting up in front of people. i might just not go. it doesn’t really matter anyway, does it?”

toji hummed, brows furrowed at her, but remained unable to respond unless he wanted to get soap in his mouth. she flicked away the excess water from the razor and carefully shaved underneath toji’s chin. he’d really let his stubble grow out, and since he was adamant about attending her graduation, it meant that the scruff would just have to go.

“nugh- y’re goin,” toji mumbled through pursed lips. “y’re too shmart t'not go.”

“and you’re too smart to have missed yours, but here we are,” she retorted, her tongue poking out from the side of her lip in concentration. “now stop talking, or you’ll get cut.”

toji grumbled and huffed from his nose, sending a soap sud flying onto her bare arm, and he snorted in amusement. she was sat on top of the kitchen counter next to the sink, with toji standing in between her legs, his hands kneading her plush thighs every so often. she was deep in thought, the only sound the gentle scratching of the blade, and started going through a mental checklist of everything she needed to prepare for tomorrow morning.

her light green kimono for the ceremony was already laid out on her roommate's old bed, zori shoes and tabi socks neatly placed beside it, but her hair pins and accessories still needed to be picked out. oh no, she hadn’t even decided on a-

“ow, fuck!”

she snapped out of her thoughts as toji hissed in pain, ruby-red pearls of blood already blooming from his lip.

oh no…

please god, no...

she’d cut his scar, reopening the top layer of delicate flesh.

“toji! fuck, i’m sorry,” she panicked, as he pulled away from her in a flash, his fingers pressing down on his lip. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to!

she slid off the counter, immediately trying to go over and help him, but toji practically growled, “don’t fucking touch me.”

her body froze, a cold shock of dread spreading from her head straight down to her stomach where it pooled uncomfortably. “toji?” she called out, her heart cracking and lip quivering. “it’s me. it’s only me.”

she’d never seen him like this before, backed up against the wall like an injured animal, his green eyes widened, breathing quickened, and nostrils flared, as if he was about to lash out at anything and everything. he held her worried gaze, but there was nothing except a cold emptiness behind him.

there was no trace of the boy she knew and loved.

“oh, toji. please,” she begged, fat droplets of tears running down the apples of her cheeks. "let me help you."

toji madly scrambled away, grabbing his shoes, and was out the door as if he’d never been there to begin with.

| Φ |

toji never came home that night.

she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, after calling him numerous times with no answer, waiting for him to walk back through the door until she couldn’t possibly keep her eyes open any longer. when she woke up groggily, her eyes still heavy from sleep and crying, she went about the arduous task of getting herself ready for graduation.

she hoped, no, prayed to the angels solving her equation to apply some sort of magic formula that would bring toji back to her. she had to believe he would show up to the ceremony; he just had to show. she didn’t even want to think about trying to calculate for the probability of him not showing up.

but the day went by in a hazy, slow blur of camera flashes, ostentatious flower bouquets, and toothy grins of parents and graduates. she played the part perfectly, a walking empty shell of a human, hugging and smiling with her loved ones. when her name was called to receive her diploma, nothing else mattered except trying to catch a glimpse of toji’s face in the audience.

but she couldn’t see him.

a foolish part of her hoped that he was standing right at the back of the auditorium, wearing that soft smile she loved so much whenever he looked at her.

that’s all it was though – foolish.

eventually, she returned back to her dorm in a numb daze, blinking slowly as her eyes swept over her soon-to-be-old home.

there was no trace of toji.

not his black sliders by the door.

not his toothbrush in the holder in the bathroom.

not his canvas bag or dirty gym clothes in the washing basket.

nothing at all.

she collapsed to the floor in a heap, her hands shakily procuring her phone from her clutch purse, and dialled toji’s number.

beep. beep. beep.

“sorry, but the number you have called does not exist. ple-”

she snapped her phone shut, and hoped that her angels could hear the gut-wrenching scream that clawed its way out of her throat and reverberated around the empty walls of the dorm.

| Φ |

the first law of thermodynamics states that energy can never be created or destroyed, only changing from one form to another.

that was all she think of as she curled into a fetal position on the cold, hard tiles of the apartment, teeth chattering as she repeated the law over and over again. the very marrow of her bones felt frozen solid, her fingernails harshly kissing crescent moons into her palm so hard that was she sure she must have bled by now.

but she didn’t care.

her heart was tearing itself apart, a war of raw muscle and heartstrings against the merciless, cruel force of love clashing inside of her chest.

her energy, what was it?

was it love?

for the numbers and greek letters she puzzled over for hours on end, contemplating all of the universe's workings and mysteries. or was it for toji fushiguro? for the dark-haired boy who had taught to her love something else other than her calculations and green tea. to love life and all the little joys that came along with it, and that she was worth infinitely more than what she thought of herself.

if her energy was love, then what would it change into?

hate, rage?

both?

maybe the angels could mercifully apply the catastrophic formula of death, and prove her life's equation to be null and false. her body would dissolve back into dust and atoms that would find their way back to toji, hovering tantalisingly closely to him, but never to touch him again. would his body know hers, even if he could never hope to see her? would he sense her and smile, as he remembered the quiet, young love they once shared?

she liked to imagine that he would smile.

her teeth clattered loudly, and her arms disappeared into the sleeves of her kimono.

how strange, the music is louder than its ever been.

scratching of quills.

a splash of ink and a teardrop.

and the scroll was flipped over to a blank side.

| Φ |

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

please tell me this manga/comic/show exists i do not wanna have to make it

okok I've posted about this before but I'm watching animation content on youtube again while getting work done and by GOD I WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS AGAIN

There's a specific concept I want to consume as content/art so badly but it came to me in a stupid dream. BUT. Sometimes, a dream means I DID see a hint of it somewhere and my brain accidentally plagiarized it which provides me with the teensiest sliver of hope that exists already and I don't have to work on it

It's a kind of a reverse isekai, right? But instead of an instant portal, it's time passing. And what I mean by that is that it's a Sun Wukong story, but the branch off is that after the main events of Journey to the West he gets either water temple'd or trapped in magic sleep again, not for a few hundred years but a few THOUSAND.

He wakes up to an incredibly far-flung China that remembers his myth and only his myth.

The art style that operated in this dream was sort of. Textured but 3D? Think nimona's buttery lighting but instead of emphasis on light and shapes to operate with the stained glass and solarpunk-medieval style the models are textured in a way that just invokes traditional brushwork and colour bleed even in a more cyberpunkish setting. Think like. Whenever there's a night scene the astigmatism glow of lamplight bleeds a little, like ink feathering on paper.

It's a little bit of a Steve Rogers treatment in a way, the world has moved past him, but also completely mythologized and capitalized on that mythology. Rather than treat that man out of time narrative as an aspect of backstory, it's the MAIN character narrative, because this ISN'T a world that needs him. This world is doing pretty okay, actually.

This a story about him.

Not about his feats or how cool his powers are or the 8 gajillion things the magic staff can do but just.

How ya doing, bud?

From the vaguely coherent notes that I could garner from my sleepily typed googledoc, it seems that I wanted this to be a love letter of sorts to the Asian diaspora experience? A specific sort of loneliness? Where the world you experience has a sort of disconnect in that it makes plain you belong there but you also don't, you never have, and there's no way to go "back" but going forward feels like groping blind through the muck. How much right to the past does he feel like he has? When it's been built into something he can't recognize and is clearly important to other people.

I want the pickup of the plot to gain him friends, family, maybe even a conflict or two but the stakes should never elevate vis a vis physical enemies to battle.

It'd be about 2/3 of this sort of narrative drawn story and the other 1/3 just hogwild worldbuilding and design

I've looked at a few other journey to the west adaptations but they mainly just use him as a funky lil action figure hero that's there to be cool as hell and save the day

99% likely this is just a thing my brain is made up and I'd need a several million budget and about 25 additional skills to start the ball rolling but hey, worth it to ask yall again

[sage-is-in-fact-very-tired]

you need some comfort today? heres a list of some soft / comfort-y / silly fable (or fable related) vods to watch <3

[Fable adjacent] -

-Any of the fable jackbox stream! both on heyhay's vod channel and beck's! They're always a good laugh if you need one of those right now (especially the afterdark one)

- I think any of the picerw streams (on heyhay's vod channel? I think thats where all of them are-?)

- fable stardew stream! I don't remember who streamed it (i know heyhay did, but i believe others did as well)

- The among us vods!! They're all so silly <3

- Survival games! They're so very silly

[Fable streams]

- Any breakfast stream

- Place of Rebirth

- Avian's Solace

- The Prince and The Potions

- No More Basements

- Bippidi Bobbidi Bork

- The Three Princes

- the first half of Discoveries and Truths is pretty silly

- Gold ink stains is pretty sweet if you ignore everything else

- The Wedding of the century

- Broters and Bastions

- Beach Camping!!

- Looping the beginning is mostly sweet

- The Pinky predicament

- Behind Closed eyes

- Drafts and drawn breath

- The Festival of light

- Down the Rabbit hole

- Operation Uppies

- Lets make out own

- Past stars

- Someone will Dye

- Any of the tattoo or Malitae episodes!!

- The charles stream

- Things unsaid

- moonlit snow

- Ruffled feathers

- Gos-sip session

- Festivities

- Berry on Top

- Luck of the sea

[thelunarsystemwrites]

Oops-

I accidentally became moots with a lot of cool undertale/UTMV artists-

*inhale*

@nobodys-reblogs Like, you were my first idol on here that I befriended 🥺 AND NOT BECAUSE YOU WERE MY IDOL- you legit just seemed cool, and I am very VERY grateful each time I see '#friend tag' with you!! I also love your style, it gives a sense of comfort because of the shades you normally use!! (<- psstt I also like your doors content!)

@inka-boi I love the way you draw chubby and plus sized people, literally helped with my own drawings of different body types! You're also super nice. And well, my mum—I love the purple yarn family, I live for the purple yarn ship, you're super sweet!

@zombiestar1934 Uhm, yeah—Yoink. Your art is very yoinkable, VERY HUGGABLE!! Looks like it was drawn in a library, where you had the peace of only hearing your drawing tablet make 'lil clicks! I love the hearts you add to blush, and the smiles you give them! Yet you're just as capable of making angst, and I love Angst :3

@absurdumsid I want to hug all, and I mean ALL your drawings. ESPECIALLY horrorpills, I love the clean look they all have, I love looking at your art, and I just- aghghgh your so cool!!

@italic-doing-random-shit man you're just very awesome, idk how the hell I manged being moots w/ you but I'm vibing with it, your art is like, yum. It gives me, hm... Oh! Okay it gives me animatic vibes, like you'd be a good animator! /pos!

@inkcat1987 AWE. JUST AWE—I love how sweet your style is, and I'm especially liking the middle school AU!! Once again, soft as angel wings!

@axinfinity there's just- there's something so HOLDABLE about your art! I just wanna pick it up and protect it!

@ant1quarian ah yes, a fellow UTMV enjoyer who collects a very specific sans, that being Dust in your case! /vpos. Your style, it's like moss. It has a natural feel, it looks like it'd smell like rain, like feathers and it's so... like this song, The Moss is how I feel when I look at your pfp!

@dzasterdumpterfire Stars. Your art looks like stars, I'm fairly sure the lighting comes from the stars. I dunno it's just kinda mystifying to look at!

@endless-emptyness Your art >>>> Very pleasant to look at. I really enjoy the facial expressions you do!!

@solusminds your art feels like it was crafted in the cozy darkness, illuminated only by a single lantern, while winter blazes outside. It's so nice and warm feeling!

@kiyo-void A lovely painting! All your works feel like they were painted, painted and set in a cool breeze to dry, especially your digital art, and I am LIVING for it! Plussssss Runetale is super cool!

@denieatsart HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE that's how I feel looking at what you make!! I love the kinda like, layered look your art gives!!

@largefound can't say a bad thing about ya, you're cool, your art gives cool feelings, cool vibes everywhere!

Annd... it's late, I can't think of anyone else BUT IF I DO I will ADD YOU to the list!!

UPDATED:

@rushin-safire. Yeah, your art? Feels like it was drawn with a cat in your lap while you've just come home from the Cafe, still sipping on your coffee. :3

@nashdoesstuff for the LIFE OF ME I can't figure out how the hell to search your art, hpw am I screwing it up?? But anyways it probably tastes like gummy bears. /pos.

@nightmarish-qeuwusha Your art tastes like cotton candy! I think that your art was woven from candy floss and glittered with stardust! ^^

@analexthatexists Containment! I feel like your art gives off SCP vibes, I feel like I'm some sort of entity when I look at it, and that, is, awesome!

@determinedfanartist okay but like, your art is "I drew this specifically bc I love my friends" and I cannot be convinced otherwise. /pos

@mrfellsans Ah, cartoony. Specifically with that dapper charm to it! I'm talking bendy and the ink machine, I'm talking swing, I'm talking pleasant to look at as you have a modern spin on it!

@the-second-reason your art is that chill older kid, the one that helps ou their younger peers figure out stuff. They're the super relaxed big sibling, your art has a mellow style, gives chill big sibling vibes. :]

@dustsansm1 I mean this in the best way possible, your art feels friendly but has anxiety. And that's okay! Your art gives me like, it wants to be friends w/ someone but too shy to do so. It has a sorta 'I'm trying my best' style, when it's already really good!

@spookuzm cover artist! I feel like you'd do well drawing the characters that you put on the cover of stuff, your art vibes me those vibes! Like it's the peak inside a new world! ^^ Hey side note this changed to comfort artist

@mellybabbles Reflections, your art makes me reflect on myself. What was behind it? Every line you etch into it makes me think, ponder, as if it were drawn from a mirror.

@wickjump ICON. Your art is SUCH an icon, you're RADIATING icon vibes. The colours you use seem to naturally give off a hue to it, giving it that pop! It's beautiful and clean and iconic! ✨️

@hialeisanimation I mean this in the most light hearted way possible—It's just happy. Like your art is the definition of :3 and I am VIBING w/ it, very lovely to look at!

@joonebugg your art has PERSONALITY, like they don't take shit from anyone. Like looking at it, feels like they'd be the decals for a 1970s diner and they're like the characters, they work too hard to take orders from ungrateful customers. THAT'S what your style looks like to me.

@milkybnnuy so your style (especially when you draw Fell!NM) is so dark and radiates that dark energy and pretty pretty please I need more angst- /pos (edit: dear cod I got that angst)

@bluu3berry - you really utilize shades of colour really well, I think you've done a wonderful job with Bluu!! /Gen! I think your style really reminds me of an older cartoon with their softer colours, like Charlie brown! And, I love Charlie brown!

@hiro-doodlez - Your art uses ALL of your canvas to your advantage! Like rarely have I ever seen you draw something and leave a blank space, which also helps you create a ton of interesting shading! I like how you draw over colours w/ other colours, so your base colours helps the top layer—Does that make sense? ^^ like, your style is very out there! Very you, very recognizable!

@dustbvnnyy Y2K INVADER ZIM like it's awesome, your artstyle gives me y2k alt vibes!! I love the soft saturated (is that a thing? ^^') colours that go into your pieces!!

@murder-clown-around-town fun!! I saw your pinned post and from what you drew IT LOOKS SO FUN!! Like a balloon animal!! I like how the lines overlap and create a structure!! :D

@miracle-negative soft and heavenly! Your art, even using a darker pallet is soft and smooth!!

@yellow-computer-mouse it's quite relaxed! I like the shading you did on that smoking Dust picture! ^^

@eco-systeme royal! You have a very royal, a very fancy looking style to me!! Like, someone paid you a good amount to draw it! I hope you forever remain creative, love your art!

@wishtale-blogs spring vibes!! Absolutely beautiful spring, butterflies, meadows and more!! I LOVE MONARCH I've literally never seen orange and pastels work well like yours does!!!

@swiftmitsu YOOO MY FIRST FRIEND MADE ON DISCORD!!! I'd like to say I'm a huge fan of your artstyle! It's a good mix between adorable, but can be taken seriously if the tone demands it! This is a hard skill to acquire, because a lot of adorable art can be hard to feel the wanted emotions conveyed — But you found just the right balance! I always look forward to you posting! ^^

@cocopebblez Detailed and stylish! I look at your art and go WOAH, I look at your sona and they're STUNNING, I look at you and I see cameras flashing as paparazzi tries to get your photo as you strut down the red carpet. So fame worthy is how I perceive your art!! And fame in the future I see!

@underfaithangelz welcome to the wall! I see your art has a very lantern vibe! Using this as my reference! I love how you can use low lighting and still make everything perfectly visual! It gives it a warm glow! I think your style is like fire, with all the intricate brush marks like flames! Beautiful and gorgeous just as your voice!

Also, we may not be moots—But honourary mention to @somegrumpynerd you're my comfort artist, I go searching for Dadmare if I'm down and I find your art—I love how it just looks like the embodiment of Marshmallows. I love how you draw each and every scene you've made, the emotions you convey even if it's supposed to just be a silly post! Just ahhhhhh I love looking at what you make!!

Have a good day, night, evening, morning, or whatever time it is for you guys!

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

Dwindling Creativity

Thomas groaned, putting his head in his hands. He’d been brainstorming and writing and editing and erasing and rewriting and researching and writing again.

“I feel like I’ve used up all the creativity I have,” Thomas grumbled, shoving aside his laptop.

This pause, reluctant as it was, was instigated by Janus. Patton took over from there, leading Thomas to flop on the couch with reruns of the Office to give his mind a chance to rest.

- - -

Roman did not stop working when Thomas did. This was Important to Thomas, and Roman had to get it right.

Thomas’s statement about using up his creativity was very nearly correct. As they had worked, Roman had dwindled away gradually, until now the quill he was holding was nearly as tall as he was. He had to hold it in a two-handed grip, kneeling on the parchment and balancing the unwieldy feather against his shoulder. At least he had a magic quill that didn’t run out of ink, so he didn’t have to keep getting up and down to re-dip it.

He ignored the click as the door to his room opened, but moments later the quill was snatched out of his grasp.

“Hey! Give that back, you- you ruffian!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Ruffian? I would’ve expected a more… creative insult.”

Roman glared at him, more tired and grumpy than truly angry. “Well—! Well…” his mind went blank.

Deceit let him flounder for a retort, twirling the quill in his gloved fingers.

All at once, his inability to come up with a properly applicable insult, a good rhyme, even a solid sentence, slammed into Roman. He crumpled onto the desk. “Just leave me alone, I’m useless.”

Deceit sat down in Roman’s chair. Roman wasn’t looking at him, and was surprised to be lifted by the back of his shirt. He let out a squeak, then decided he was too tired to flail or protest, and merely went limp.

“Useless?” Deceit drawled, his voice dripping with something like sympathy. Knowing him though, it could well be anything, or nothing. “My dear prince, you and I both know that’s far from the truth.”

He draped Roman over his other hand, resting on the table. Roman was laying on his stomach, across Deceit’s palm, his arms flopped over his pointer finger.

“I am useless.” Roman asserted. “I can’t even make a song. I’m supposed to be great at songs!”

Deceit stroked the feather over Roman’s back, the smooth, gentle pressure a pleasant sensation. “Or perhaps, you’re holding yourself to too high a standard considering the circumstances.”

Roman’s muscles loosened further as the feather continued stroking over his shirt. “It’s for Thomas’s mother’s birthday, if I can’t make something perfect for this, when else could it matter?”

“I’m sure you will make something perfect,” Deceit replied. “But it may take more time. Time which we have, the birthday is in three weeks.”

Roman dropped his head onto Deceit’s glove. It was cool, rather than warm as he might have expected a hand to be. The feather traced patterns over his shirt, almost like a back rub, melting away his protests.

“You need rest now. Distraction, to get your mind off of the song and give you time to return to your full strength.”

As Deceit said the word Distraction, the edge of the feather brushed over a small strip on skin on Roman’s side, where his shirt had ridden up. Tingles spread from that spot, making him shiver. It felt nice, nearly tickly.

Roman shifted to dispel the tingles, inconspicuously doing so in a way that made his shirt ride up slightly higher.

For a few moments, Deceit must not have noticed, still stroking the feather over his shirt, but then the tip of the feather was drawn across his lower back, crossing from his shirt to his bare skin. Roman muffled a small giggle, enjoying as tingly sensations ran over him again.

Deceit was saying something else, but Roman was becoming lost in the moment, relishing the soft, gentle strokes and the occasional sparks of tickles.

At some point, he had relaxed so thoroughly as to forget he was hiding his giggles, and let one fully slip out.

“Oh, so I have a ticklish little prince?” Deceit said fondly, smiling down at him with a glint in his eyes.

Roman’s first impulse was to protest, especially as Deceit was sure to grow condescendingly teasing, but his enjoyment of his situation battled that impulse, leaving him speechless and blushing.

His internal battle was interrupted by the feather slipping up the back of his shirt, wiggling over his whole back. Roman fell into giggles, kicking his feet gently. The stiff quill feather wasn’t the most effective tool for causing tickles at his current size, but his embarrassment had made him more sensitive than usual.

“Awwww,” Deceit cooed. “Enjoying yourself?”

Roman didn’t respond other than to blush a bit pinker, though he made no move to block the feather.

Deceit twirled the feather. The strange sensation of the spinning feather under his shirt startled a laugh out of Roman.

“It seems I’ve found quite a good distraction, haven’t I?” Deceit said smugly. “Take all your thoughts away and leave only giggles~”

Roman rolled over, trapping the feather underneath his back as he giggled. Deceit easily pulled it free and teased it over Roman’s front. Here his shirt was better covering him, but the feather coming at him, fluttering at his sides or his stomach or neck, and constantly changing spots had him caught in giggles. He batted at the feather playfully when it came within reach of his hands. Indeed, all his previous difficult thoughts had fled.

“A happy little darling,” Deceit murmured, his voice overwhelmingly fond.

Roman was sure his face was still pink, but he was losing the embarrassment, caught up in the fun and the non-judgemental affection. He shucked his shirt off, clicking his fingers to change the quill in Deceit’s hand to a longer feather with droopy, dangly vanes.

Deceit shook the feather over Roman, the little tips flickering over his skin. Roman curled up into a giggly ball, rolling back and forth in Deceit’s hand. So many little tickly points all over him. It was like being out in a summer rain, if every drop left tingles in its wake.

Roman soaked in the attention, the sensations, the love. His body filled with warmth and joy, releasing the excess with every laugh. His giggles were infectious, and Deceit chuckled at the adorable sight in his hand.

When Roman got breathless, he grabbed at the trailing ends of the feather to stop them. Deceit obligingly switched tactics to long slow strokes of the feather up and down over Roman. It was hardly tickly at all, returning to a relaxing massage-like experience, but Roman couldn’t seem to fully stop the remaining giggles.

Slowly, gradually, he melted into Deceit’s palm. After such a height of joy, tiredness draped over him like a blanket. His eyes slipped closed, and the giggles came further and further apart.

Roman didn’t notice the ever so gradual shift of the feather into a miniature fringed blanket. He barely noticed when it stopped moving and instead tucked around him. And by the time Deceit gently transferred him into his bed he was sound asleep.

[runninriot]

written for @subeddieweek

complete fic posted on ao3

Sweet Thing

rated: E | tags: Client Eddie Munson, Pro Dom Steve Harrington, restraints, sensation play (nipple clamps, pinwheel), 18+ content | snippet, complete fic and tag list on ao3

He shouldn’t have favourites. Shouldn’t feel drawn more to one than to others. They’re all equal, all deserve the best (worst) treatment. It’s a job, a very unusual one but a job nonetheless. He’s here to serve, to execute what he’s being paid for – to make secret fantasies come true and not to succumb to his own.

But ever since the curly haired angel stepped foot into his dungeon some months ago, Steve found it hard to keep it strictly professional.

There is something about that man, Eddie, that messes with Steve’s head in a way he can’t really explain.

He’s good-looking, with dark ink scattered all over his pale skin. Slender but with defined muscles in his shoulders and arms. Has strong thighs, an ass that looks much too biteable, and he has these big, round puppy dog eyes that are especially pretty when they’re red-rimmed and teary.

Eddie is really something to look at and maybe that is why Steve is so hung up on him.

Thankfully, he’s good at pretending.

Can hide the fact that – although not in a physical sense – each session with him is as fulfilling for Steve as it is for the beautiful man currently splayed out on top of the latex sheets.

It’s a real treat to watch him writhe and shiver, his muscles tense from the enormous effort it takes for Eddie to try to hold still.

He fails miserably, can’t keep his arms and legs from instinctively tugging at the restraints keeping him bound to the bed.

Steve leans in close to Eddie’s ear, lips purposely grazing the shell to let the vibration of his voice tickle his skin.

   “Didn’t I tell you not to move?”

   “Y-yes. ‘M sorry.”

Eddie strains his neck, obviously trying to bring some distance between himself and Steve’s mouth but he can’t get far.

   “Y-yes,” Steve mocks him as he repeats Eddie’s stuttering response. “Yes what? Think you forgot something there, sweet thing. Do I have to remind you of the rules?”

Steve grabs him by his throat, the press of his fingers tight enough to force a desperate gasp out of him.

With his other hand, he tightens the clamp on Eddie’s left nipple, turns the screw once, twice until a pathetic little whimper leaves Eddie’s shiny, parted lips.

   “Yes, Sir! I’m sorry, Sir. I- please, it hurts.”

    Good, Steve laughs to himself, satisfied with the way Eddie already has this trembling in his voice like he’s close to crying. And isn’t that a beautiful thought. Eddie is always so pretty when he cries.

   “You gonna behave now and stay still?”

Steve takes a moment to marvel at the view he’s presented with.

Eddie’s eyes are wet, a sheer layer of unshed tears glistening in the dim light of the candles shining down on them from the sideboard to their left.

He is tied down, arms and legs forming an x-shape where he’s spread out like a human sacrifice at the altar. His whole body is a gorgeous work of art. Not only because of the tattoos adorning his skin that is beautifully flushed from his face down to his chest.

His pinched nipples are bright pink from the clamps biting harshly into the sensitive buds.

The picture is perfected by the sight of Eddie’s hard cock straining against his stomach, so desperate to be touched.

Not yet, though. Eddie is Steve’s to play with for a little while longer, is his to be used. And he will drag this out for as long as he can, won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of relief until he is satisfied with his own work.

Steve reaches over to the sideboard, grabs the Wartenberg wheel that’s been waiting there patiently to come into action.

Eddie is a sucker for sensation play. He is so sensitive, reacts so wonderfully to any prickling, stinging, thudding feeling afflicted on his body. Whether it’s with the light, tickling touch of a feather or the quick, sharp burn of hot wax drizzling over his body; he’s so easy to please.

Steve starts on his left, presses the pinwheel against his skin, and lets it roll from his shackled ankle up over his calf. Eddie squirms and whines furiously when the prickling sensation reaches the back of his knee and not for the first time, Steve is glad not to be on the receiving end of things. Eddie’s trembling and twisting gets worse, the further Steve rolls the wheel up the inside of his thigh, playing with the degree of pressure he uses to prick Eddie’s sensitive skin.

He repeats the procedure on Eddie’s right, watches his skin break out in goose bumps while his cock twitches hard at the overwhelming sensation that’s crossing the line between slight discomfort and actual pain - just what Eddie wants.

Eddie gives up on trying to get away, finally accepting that he’s going nowhere. He’s entirely at Steve’s mercy, who keeps going, ruthlessly dragging the pinwheel across the underside of his arms and down his sides, spurred on by Eddie’s pathetic moans.

   “Please, Sir! ‘S too much!” He begs as if that could convince Steve to end his teasing torture.

Eddie knows what to do if he wants him to stop. And Steve knows what Eddie can take.

He always gets so whiny when Steve treats him right. He’s a dream to play with. So easily breakable, so willing to give up control and let Steve take him apart in whichever way he pleases.

So beautiful when he slowly loses his mind, pushed closer and closer to the edge until he’s free falling.

The only problem is that Steve has a hard time not to lose himself.

[glassrowboat]

Kiss Me (Kill Me). Dottore.

A Teaser

Warnings will be added on the proper chapter 1, but for now, just enjoy :>

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

Matthew 11:28-30

Pages were pinched between deft hands, crinkling them with ease as if the words printed out on them in a rushed, messy scrawl meant no more than a spider being crushed to death under a white tissue. All without so much as a hint of protest, for what could paper do against merciless hands?

It was merely a dead tree at the end of it all. Torn from its root, broken off and left to dry in the heat of a warm day, sapping it of all life, it had only to be dunked back into water. Boiled down to its most basic properties and pulped. All to be formed into something new: the base that starts a creation. From books, art, or scrawled secrets in a diary.

But the dead do not praise the almighty that snuffed it out, nor do any who go down into silence. So the plant it had once been withers away.

A page was torn, a sound that grated on his ears. Dottore almost recoiled on instinct, having gotten so used to the distinct rip of paper that was torn asunder after hours of work had been documented only to turn out fruitless. A waste of his time and effort as a trash bin would slowly fill and tip over.

A scowl grew on his lips.

Now just what was she doing?

In the matter of a few long strides, Dottore had moved from his spot, leaning against the doorframe to her, grabbing her wrist with ease. Capturing her attention. The woman he dared to whisper the name habibi to in the dark of the night between rumpled sheets and had long since dubbed Beauty jolted back, looking up at him in a manner he was well used to by now.

Her gaze was as analytical as always; from the very moment they first met to now in their silent reverie. Observing him in the very same way Dottore looked down at a subject below his eager fingers or a piece of Khaenri’ah's legacy left behind in fragments scattered across Teyvat; breaking them down and building them back up so he may understand every last piece. How it works, how it moves, how it falls, and watch it all come together again with a newfound piece of knowledge to utilize.

But contrary to those moments hidden away in his laboratory, there were no gloves separating Beauty from him like there always was with those who lay strapped down on a stainless steel vivisection table. Nay, there was only the warmth of skin against skin he had so greedily chosen to relish in for he was a man who has never tasted sweetness being drawn in by an apple, pointed teeth biting into it for the first time as its juices befouled his maw. Not even the snap of blue rubber against his wrists could save him from the heat of her touch.

That was something Dottore had learned long ago.

“This is the first time I've seen you out of bed in days, and it's to tear apart your work?” Dottore questioned.

At least, that's what he assumed it was. She hadn't even given him the proper chance to peek at the pages he was expecting to see littered with bullet points and breakdowns of this subject or that one all in glittery ink before her free hand was brushing it all away. Nearly knocking it off the desk as she formed a measly excuse of a stack. Ruffling could be heard, but that paled to how her fingers were splayed wide to block his prying eyes.

Only a few messy words had caught his attention, drawing him in before she ripped everything right out from under him. Sheets of paper a rug his feet weren't even planted on suddenly throwing him off balance.

Tilting his head back to thunk against something all with the gentle scoff, she huffed out. Not even looking up at him as “peeking now” was asked in an accusatory tone.

“Could you blame a scholar for being curious?”

“Yes, I can.”

He felt her swatting at his chest, touching as light as the gentle caress of a falling feather, as she tried to get Dottore to give her some space; if not an ample amount. It's just like she's been insisting on for days now. Endlessly. Assurances of how she's fine, that they're fine, and everything is simply peachy besides the fact she's simply been feeling a little under the weather as of late have been stuffed into his ears again and again like cotton swabs. Soon, no doubt, they would pierce the tympanic membrane and leave only blood in their wake. For today, it had reached the two week mark, and Beauty was still insisting she was fine.

It took no effort on Dottore's part to capture the offending limb.

His thumb ran over her wrist, over her racing pulse, until he was tracing the lines on her palm. Mapping out how they curved around them and shifted with each flex of her hand. “Someone's nervous.”

“You..” Beauty's voice trailed off, pushing down to a whisper only from one word. But still, he stared down at her, waiting for a proper answer on what this entire debacle had been about. “And you know I don't like you going over my work when it's incomplete.”

Dottore's fingers twitched, threatening to tighten his hold on her before he let her go.

“Then I suppose I should have come home at my usual hour then. That way, you would have had the time to hide this,” he gestured to the mess on the vanity, “away.”

Of course, she jumped, nearly throwing herself off a cliff in the process, at the chance to change the subject. “Actually, I was wondering why you're back early. You're usually so wrapped up in work.”

Which would usually end with Dottore trudging through their bedroom door after a long day, only to slip his coat off as silently as possible to drape it over a lone chair off to the side. A dull blue light would always fill the corner as he came back, flickering over his face and hers as Beauty laid in bed, illuminating the way her eyelids twitched in irritation at the sudden glow; still, she always pretended to be asleep anyway.

Never stirring from the covers.

Not even as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and slipped into the bathroom to get ready for the quiet night that awaited him; one of Dottore staring up at the ceiling while she slowly fell into the depths of the dream world he had once been so ecstatic about having access to when he first ripped the Akasha from his ear and called it what it truly was: a limitation. An inhibitor. A chain wrapped around the necks of human beings like they were dogs to be shackled by Celestia's will.

The very same irking feeling at the thought greeted Dottore tonight like an old friend, beckoning him as he made his way downstairs, pulling her along with him and away from her supposed work and the vanity so they could have dinner together.

Though she had first insisted on cleaning up, on getting rid of the “trash” she had “dared to pen down in the first place.” Her purple bound leather notebook with loose, torn pages sticking out of the sides was suddenly shoved into a nearby waste bin and quickly taken out to be dumped by one of the maids. All before, he could even make out the design stamped into the front.

It was so unlike her, but she always did have a way of confounding him.

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Miscellaneous Birds

So! This is the first in our six-week wind-down of Bestiaryposting, where we run through the Honorable Mentions that appear in the Aberdeen Bestiary but didn't get their own post here because the author of the Bestiary and I have different goals.

If you don't know what any of that means, you can find out at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

To see the entry our artists are working from, click here:

To see the entry people are drawing now, so that you can potentially join in, click here:

Art is below the cut, in roughly chronological order.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) decided to do Literally All of the birds. I am fascinated by the detail here; I particularly like the pose on the Hreakgleav, and the feathers on the Klethghrom. I would direct anyone trying to figure out which is which to the linked post, which contains a key and brief descriptions of each.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has also given us a tree full of birds. The explanation in the linked post of which is which and what they were inspired by is illuminating (pun not intended), so check that out. I especially enjoy the interpretations of the Klethghrom and the Lokfotreag. (And thank you for providing alt text.)

@wendievergreen (link to post here) has drawn three of the birds in their always-charming style. For explanations, close-ups, and individual treatments of each, please see the linked post. I really like the tail on the Hreakgleav and the... frankly insane look of the Klethghrom. (Also thank you for providing alt text.)

All right, we're going to identify these rapid-fire because there are a bunch of them and I'm not going to hand you a whole-ass essay here. Readers are encouraged to add their own commentary.

Tluftasong

The manuscript identifies this one as "night owl", but I've seen other sources refer to this entry as the "night heron". I'll leave that one to people who know birds more.

Lokfotreag

This is the hoopoe. Which, as listeners to the podcast know, you can trade to demons for perpetual access to great parties. The illustration is very cool, and seems to show the young birds rejuvenating their aging parent.

Hurrashbeg

Really love the Stylized Plant, of course. One of the things that really strikes me about medieval manuscript art is how particular things that Definitely Don't Exist keep cropping up in different manuscripts, looking pretty much the same. Like, unless this is by the same artist who did the Rutland Psalter, it shows an interestingly consistent artistic tradition -- I swear that's the exact same plant, and in a couple other places in the manuscript they have the exact same wyvern.

Anyway, those are clearly magpies. I don't know why they're being shot at.

Konchilkuk

This one didn't get an illustration, but it's the woodpecker.

Wobrahfmet

Yep, that sure is a raven. They actually have a really long entry, but it's mostly about what they symbolize.

Hrongnewit

This one is the kite. Yeah, that looks pretty believable.

Klomurgrae

This is... apparently the ibis. Also, from the context of the entry, I think it's intended to be standing on a snake. Neither of those look like the things they are supposed to be.

Zagsmenrok

This is the blackbird. I have no explanation for why it's brown. The illustrator clearly has access to black ink.

Hreakgleav

Yep, that's very clearly an owl.

Wahrembeag

It tickles me that these are right next to each other, because there's a moderately-well-known Middle English poem called "the Owl and the Nightingale". This is pure coincidence; they're not together in the bestiary, there are a few birds in between.

Oh yeah, this is the Nightingale.

Sarbrufeat

This is the heron. The illustration seems broadly correct, but do herons come in white? That's an egret, surely.

Keltrumram

This is the coot -- doesn't look like one to me, but maybe the artist and I are familiar with different species of coot. Readers may recall its cameo in the Eagle entry; its own is unfortunately rather shorter.

Grozfarwat

Meet the quail. I was initially confused, but apparently the plume thing I associate with quails is not actually common to all species of quail. So... yeah, good quail.

Mortelgeng

Very definitely a crow.

Burngraega

Also very identifiable, here's the swan. Head and beak seem a bit flatter and wider than I would expect, though.

Klethghrom

This was basically the poster child for "too obvious to get its own entry". Here's the peacock.

And that's it for this week, it's late. Talk amongst yourselves, or tell me what you think about all these birds.

[karniss-bg3]

Writing Prompt: seeing the sun again when the shadow curse is lifted? Maybe getting to see the (Spoiler?) fly across the sky? I imagine he’s light sensitive, but is he more in line with running from it or curious enough to watch it happen?

End of Act 2 spoilers.

Kar’niss wandered through the Shadowlands with moon lantern in hand, searching for more of his Queen’s followers. He paused when he noticed something soaring high above the barren tree line, a streak of radiant light that nearly split the sky in two. He squinted in confusion and took several hesitant steps forward to get a better view. Once his eyes adjusted to the sight he saw a flash of white, feathered wings that carried the beautiful figure on the wind, dressed top to toe in regal armor.

“What’s this, Majesty? One of your divine faithful?” Kar’niss hissed.

As the figure soared across the sky, Kar’niss noticed a shift in the air around him. The ground beneath his pointed legs shivered and cracked, lines drawn across the earth to make room for fresh seedlings to sprout. The drider’s face contorted while he staggered away from the new growth, his body turning around to bear witness to the forests steady transformation. Blackened trees groaned and swayed, their natural brown hues bleeding back into the bark like spilled ink over paper. Withered branches sprouted plump, vibrant green leaves that spread down the length bringing the once empty canopy back to life. The scents of death and decay were replaced with bright floral scents which hit Kar’niss’ nose violently, his head jerking back in response to the potent aroma.

“M-My Queen, what is happening? Please, speak to us!”

The dark clouds that had consumed the sky for so long began to part and fade away allowing the first rays of sunlight to kiss the landscape in what felt like an age. The moment his light sensitive eyes were exposed to such brilliance it made him recoil and hiss in anger. He backed up toward a cluster of revitalized trees, using their branches to offer him a form of shade. He clutched the moon lantern close to his breast, his body riddled with anxiety and a touch of fear. His ear twitched when he heard the sound of shadow creatures perishing nearby, their anguished screams enough to put him on high alert. Who was responsible for this? It must’ve been the Absolute, no one else could conquer such a curse in his mind.

Distracted as he was he didn’t catch the beating of wings nearby. His moving about had attracted the attention of the mysterious figure flying above, a stunning aasimar recently freed from captivity. Dame Aylin hovered inches above the ground, sword drawn and sights set on the baffled drider nearby. Kar’niss turned his head and caught sight of her, a lump forming in his throat.

“Majesty? Have you finally come to us?” His voice cracked, gaze focused on what he believed to be his Queen in the flesh.

She frowned at what she deemed a pathetic creature. “I will be your end, abomination.”

Kar’niss sucked in a sharp breath of air as if he’d taken a direct punch to the chest, his body turning to face her. “Wh—What? B-B-But my Queen, why?! We’ve served you faithfully, done all that you’ve asked. Please!”

Dame Aylin didn’t respond, her arm jutting to the side brandishing an intimidating blade of divine make. Her wings beat, carrying her toward the stunned creature with every intent to take his head. She swiped the blade in a fierce arc, the sharp metal cleaving across his chest straight through the chitin. This opened a painful wound and blood spilled free inciting a tormented screech from Kar’niss.

“Augh! Majesty, please! What have we done??” Kar’niss cried out as he tried to back away from the assault, his hand fumbling to reach for his sword.

Dame Aylin saw him reach for the blade and responded with a swift strike, the blades clanging together and with such force that it ripped his weapon from his hand. It spun out of his hand landing in the brush nearby, out of reach. Kar’niss’ lips quivered, his heart pounding in his chest cavity, his thoughts split between the burning slash in his chest and the heartbreak of losing the Absolute’s favor. He tried to retreat to put distance between the violence and himself but he wouldn’t be able to escape a foe as fierce as an aasimar.

She jumped into pursuit, flying over the hurried drider to land right in front of him. She swung once more landing a cut across the side of his face, narrowly missing the target of his neck. He skittered frantically until he backed up into a stone wall, a part of the many ruins peppered across the landscape. He was cornered and even though he could climb the wall he knew escape wasn’t possible. Perhaps he deserved this fate, surely he did something wrong to displease her, this was all his fault.

Kar’niss began to sob as he lowered his body to the ground, cupping his hands over his face in defeat. “Unworthy, we were...unworthy. Please forgive us, Majesty,” he wept.

Dame Aylin hovered above the distraught beast, her eyelids falling half mast, cold and uncaring to his plight. “This will be a mercy,” she began as she raised the sword above her head. “Not what you deserve, but what you shall get.”

He seemed ready to accept his face, terrified as he may have been. Neither heard the fast approach of footsteps, someone running with all of their might toward the confrontation. As Dame Aylin prepared to deliver the final blow someone slid to a stop in front of Kar’niss, their arms opened wide as if to protect him from the strike.

“Aylin, stop!” They cried.

The aasimar squinted but stayed her hand. “Tav, what are you doing? This beast is of the Absolute, he must be eliminated.”

Kar’niss panted, his fingers fanning out across his face to allow him a view of what was happening. He could scarcely believe what he witnessed, still tucked against the foundation of the building so tight it made his abdomen ache.

“He is, that’s true. But like many others he was abused and brainwashed by them. He’s endured endless suffering at the hands of so many. Under the protection of the artifact I think he could have a fighting chance to change. If you kill him then you’re punishing him for being a victim,” Tav explained.

She furrowed her brows beneath her helm, her wings steadily beating to keep her aloft. She’d sigh while lowering her blade, returning it to its sheath. “I do owe you for setting me free. If you wish to vouch for the drider then I will not argue. Just be wary, his mind appears volatile and unpredictable. Do not let your soft heart put you and your companions at risk.”

Tav nodded and lowered their arms. “Yes, I understand. Thank you, Aylin.”

She shifted her gaze between Tav and the cowering drider. “There is much left to do. I shall leave you with your new...ward.” Using her wings she ascended back into the sky, flying off and leaving the pair alone.

After she departed Tav breathed a sigh of relief. They turned to face Kar’niss who was in dire straights, trembling and visibly upset.

“Kar’niss, are you alright? You’re bleeding,” Tav said.

Kar’niss was unresponsive, his fingers curled into his face, his body tightly tucked against the wall. Moisture had collected over his face dripping from his chin, the heavy sound of his shaken breathing audible. Tav scowled and took a careful step closer.

“Let me help you. I promise you’re safe now. I’m sure you’re confused and I will explain everything soon. For now let’s focus on tending to those wounds.”

When Tav came close the drider whimpered and tried to back away although there was no room left to do so. “She...she has abandoned us. We were unworthy, an abomination, imperfect. We are nothing now.”

“You are not nothing. You are my friend, remember? The woman you saw was not the Absolute. She is an aasimar called Dame Aylin. She is on our side, but I realize you may not understand that yet.”

Kar’niss’ upper lip curled, his shaken hands sliding away from his face causing the blood on his cheek to smear. “What? She was not with our Queen?” He paused to let the information process. “Th-Then Majesty has not forsaken us?” Tav bit their lower lip. They knew it was a tender subject to tackle and a path they must tread carefully. They wanted to help Kar’niss and that meant giving in to his delusions, at least until they could form a stronger foothold elsewhere.

“No, She hasn’t forsaken you. Majesty wants you healthy so please, let me tend to you.”

The drider seemed to relax, many of his nerves tamed with the idea that he still had a purpose to serve. He’d issue a single nod to show it was alright to approach and Tav did exactly that. Rooting through their bag they retrieved supplies to tend to him, grabbing a rag and dousing it in water from their canteen. They dabbled it over the wound on his chest, wincing at how deep the cut appeared. They were just grateful Aylin hadn’t done more damage before they arrived.

He exhaled as Tav did their work, taking time to look around the changed woodland. Tall, healthy trees, vibrant flora, thick blades of grass, sparkling streams of water, the area was near unrecognizable now.

“The darkness has faded away, the land transformed. We no longer have need of Majesty’s gift.” He bowed his head, a pang of sorrow hanging in his words. “She no longer has need of us.”

Tav looked up at their forlorn companion, reaching to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Where one purpose ends a new one begins. Stay with me, Kar’niss. I promise you’ll have no shortage of things to do. We need you.”

He blinked quickly after such a statement. He felt something swell within his chest that out classed the throbbing from his injury. He didn’t know what to say, the very idea anyone needed him almost felt surreal to him. His pedipalps curled and gave the faintest wiggle of intrigue, his tongue swiping across his lips to combat the growing dryness.

A new purpose, a new beginning, a speck of hope all for himself? Perhaps dreams can come true.

[ebonystarfall]

Ink!Peng x a reader who was also part of the brotherhood?

Like reader had a similar experience as Macaque and just ran

But Peng was surprisingly attached to reader

So the scroll taunts you about that through Ink!Peng????

Idk this is weird and I’m sorry 😔

A Cursed Taunt

Ink!Peng x Ex-Brotherhood!Reader

Created by: Starlight (Owner 2)

Type of content: Oneshot

Pov: Second

Word count: 652

TW: Mentions of almost getting impaled, Ink!Peng is a fucking sour lemon towards you, taunting, reader doesn’t speak (I apologize).

A/N: I absolutely adore this idea, thanks to anon for suggesting it! Definitely feel like Ink!Peng would blame you endlessly, asking why you left them. Also @starbeamssovereign I know you said no angst...but dearest please give me the option to do so :(

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you clustered with the remainder of the crew. Yet, despite your apprehension, your gaze was drawn to the protective curse, its ink shifting and morphing into myriad fantastical creatures. You observed the pilgrims, their discontent and ire manifesting in heated words, glaring down at you all in disgust. Then, your eyes fell upon the Brotherhood. Yellowtusk, once a formidable demon with a gold heart, now bore a gaze that bespoke a fierce desire to strike you from where you stand. You had abandoned the Brotherhood during the assault on the Jade Emperor. Such a betrayal was unforgivable. You were branded a coward.

Yet, an all too familiar voice caught your attention, making you separated from the group. You stood paralyzed in astonishment as you confronted Peng. The birdlike demon emitted a bitter laugh, their glowing blue eyes fixing you with a malevolent glare. No, you could not succumb to this illusion. It was merely the scroll's curse, merely an ink demon, not...not your friend. You tried to seek out MK, or Mei, or anyone who might aid you. But in the newly revealed clearing, there was no one present save you from Peng...or rather, Ink Peng.

“Ah, if it isn’t the cowardly little y/n, even worse then Macaque. Unlike that pathetic rat, you didn’t even join the battle… were you already adamant on leaving the Brotherhood? On leaving me?”

They swung their ji at you, the blade narrowly missing as you leapt aside. They scoffed, using their talons to pin you down, mocking you with cruel laughter.

“Oh, I’m just quivering in fear by you, all mighty and powerful. You didn’t even feel the need to fight! Do you see yourself as better then us, darling?”

You felt the air constrict in your lungs as the ink demon pinned you down. Their talons, though appearing as liquid ink, felt unnervingly lifelike and sharp. You wished to retort but chose to hold your tongue as you looked up at Peng. The inky bird demon grumbled at your silence, releasing you and striking you with their wing.

“You must’ve really lost your power. So pathetic, I swear…” they had scoffed, poking you lightly with their ji.

You rolled your eyes in irritation, attempting to swat the weapon away, only for it to dissolve into ink and then rematerialize as Peng lunged to strike once more, halting a mere instant before impaling you. They laughed, seizing you by the chin and forcing you to look up at them. “You abandoned us to our fate, never once trying to save or free us. Free me. I believed you considered me your… 'best friend.' Clearly, you do not deserve that title at all, little bug.”

The ink demon version of your old comrade suddenly tightened their grip on your chin, then rested their inky yet feathered head against you, giggling mischievously. Their ji remained pointed directly at you. If they pressed just a little too hard…

“Oh, you don’t plan on fighting back? Hm. I should strike you where you stand, stupid worm, if only you hadn’t left me….”

You looked back with a mix of remorse and anger. You yearned to despise this distorted version of your comrade, to push them away and return to your new friends... but the strange warmth emanating from their inky feathers gave you pause. You allowed them to lean on you, even though you were perilously close to being impaled and killed.

This moment with Ink Peng was abruptly interrupted by a loud yell. You presumed it was Mei, slashing her way into the clearing with a new sword. You stared at her in astonishment, even more so when everyone else rushed toward you. But when you turned back to look at the bird demon... they had vanished, as if the protective curse from the scroll had never been near you at all…

[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

Inkwell

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Oops! Have another snippet c:

Contains: Blood as ink, captivity/gilded cage, intimate whump

~~~

The iridescent, glimmering golden feather dipped once again into the gaping wound between Elze’ith’s ribs.

The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but even that small disturbance was enough to send pain shooting deep into his core and pull a groan from his chest. He couldn’t remember how long he had lain here, his skin carefully parted to coax out the precious blood beneath. Realistically, it couldn’t have been long; he hadn’t needed to heal himself, even despite the severity of his wound. But he had lost track of the number of times that quill had dipped into him as carefully and casually as any inkwell, lost as he was in the haze of pain and the endless sound of deliberate and measured writing.

Having his blood used this way was nothing short of an honor, Lord Denholm had told him. Elze’ith wished he could believe that. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he knew what honor felt like anymore.

The sound of the scratching quill was the only distraction Elze’ith had. He wondered what Lord Denholm was writing. He wondered if he cared. It didn’t matter; chances were he wouldn’t get to read it anyway. No matter how curious he was, this thing that he bled for was almost certainly not meant for him to enjoy.

The sight of the golden quill approaching him again made his heart clench, even beyond the anticipation of more pain. He had only seen it once, but he knew that feather. He knew that feather he knew that feather he knew that feather—

But his fear couldn’t stop the descent of more pain, couldn’t stop the corruption of something so sacred and personal. It never could. Nothing could.

Eventually, the golden quill, tinged red with blood and no longer glowing, was placed down on the table, and Lord Denholm helped Elze’ith sit upright. Elze’ith wasted no time in trying to heal himself, and was wretchedly grateful that Lord Denholm didn’t stop him.

“Look, my light,” Lord Denholm murmured instead, and Elze’ith’s eyes were drawn down towards the desk, and the outcome of his suffering. “I thought it fitting that you have a chance to see yourself as I see you.”

It was a portrait, carefully drawn in deliberate, flowing lines of red. The expression on the face was almost serene, if not for the tinge of uncertainty and pain. Long, flowing hair seemed to be streaked with blood from the deep red lines that marked their presence. Twin drops of ink-blood on the neck were small, gaping wounds. Every detail was rendered with such care, and yet the blood seemed ready to spread and engulf the entire image. It was beautiful, and it was horrific. Elze’ith stared down at his own face, a face he hadn’t seen in months, and found he barely recognized what he saw.

[perdicinae-observer]

Title.

Urgh, how do people normally start this... Fancy greetings? Right, right. Hm...

Afternoon. (That was not fancy at all.)

This is Marshal Louis Nicolas Davout writing. Or...well, typing.

I've decided to finally excuse myself from my moping session solitude and venture into unknown territory that is this strange platform. (Which I have been...observing from a distance.)

Seeing as my late colleagues have been up to some...shenanigans on this platform, I might as well find something to amuse myself with the ample time I'm given and do some...[*grimaces*]...socialising.

[*sigh*] I'm going to regret this...

So, to whoever may see this and care; you are free to send me your questions, letters, and queries regarding whichever subject you wish. I will be reading through and answering them accordingly when I am not busy tending to domestic matters around the painfully quiet estate.

However, do be mindful of the things you send. Respect goes both ways and I do not like to squabble. Unless it's against certain b

Unsavoury comments regarding my hair will swiftly be ignored and used as fuel for the fireplace.

...Don't expect me to initiate interactions much.

Regards,

L Davout.

——————————•

!! This is a joke RP account run by @mbenguin, a guy who is in no way shape or form a bona fide historian-- just really enthusiastic about balding dead nerds and French history! This is in no way meant to be accurate, analytical, or faithful 100% to reality despite being based on actual historical facts to a certain degree. This is a fictionalised parody that is meant to be in-character as possible to my interpretation of the man himself and I'm doing it for shits and giggles !!

Handy list of folks participating in this madness (whose exchanges will be tagged separately!)

Events (chronological, sometimes) ──

[✓ — Finished , ✗ — Ongoing]

Birth of "Lenoir", Hell's cutest ink demon chick

Local Old Man Turned Cutest Owl Ever, More On Page 2

Princess of Eckmühl(?)

⇲ Swedish Home Invasion

⇲ Catgirl Madness (ft. The Ass Boys)

Arc: The Ginger Rescue Expedition

⇲ Lenoir took over correspondence!

⇲ Party ADCs in the house tonight

Epilogue (1,2)

He's back!

Swedish Home Invasion 2 Dinner?

Waterloo 2: Electric Boogaloo

The Gasconious Wedding

Eagle sitter

Pheasant insanity

Arc: Winter Has Come

⇲ October ( i, ... )

⇲ Brief escape (The Masquerade)

Tags ──

#correspondance de Savigny-sur-Orge -- The marshal's replies to his letters- sent straight from his humble, lonely manor. Could both be written and spoken answers.

#dépêches personnelles -- General responses/exchanges (hilarity ensues)

#proclamations du Prince d'Eckmühl -- Important announcements/event messages

#représentations par le petit gardien -- Drawn visual representation by the marshal's mysterious companion...whose text will be in purple!

#la réponse du petit gardien -- Said mysterious companion's answering his letters, if there are any directed towards him.

#galerie d'oiseaux -- Collection of bird images that 'ruffled his feathers.' With positive connotations.

Be careful when asking questions regarding Aimée or his family!

——————————•

[lavendernlilac]

Sending this here cause love making us mentioned lol

I wonder if, because Scar likes to draw and Grian likes being drawn, they’ve used drawing in the bedroom. Like specifically when one of them is struggling with their appearance or is just having a rough time?

For example: Grian is deep in his own mind, doubt clouding every thought about everything. Scar sits him down on the bed(maybe in front of the mirror) with a pen in hand and starts circling and marking some of his favorite parts of Grian’s body, whispering soft words and admirations as he goes. Some marks are simple doodles, old hickeys turned into flowers or a cluster of freckles a constellation. His hands sometimes drift into Grian’s feathers, petting them gently.

Maybe they make love, maybe not; either way it leaves Grian tingly and warm as Scar gently maps him out, and he’s chirping quietly the whole time. This can go on for hours until Grian is covered in ink. At some point he turns it on Scar, stealing the pen and sitting in his husband’s lap. Neither of them leave the scene without ink. They end the session soaking in their bath and curled close together, doubt cleared from their minds.

I’m so soft about this,,,

it ties in really well with a thought I had of scar sitting grian down in front of their mirror and making him watch as scar touches him. and scar narrates the entire thing, telling grian what he loves about each part of his body, why it’s still him. him doing that with a pen is so,,, mwah, top tier. he makes literal art on grian’s skin and whispers all these little praises and reasons why grian is so pretty and so just,,, himself

I don’t think it always leads to sex, but a good few times it does, especially with scar petting his wings. it definitely pushes grian near tears because of how overly gushy he feels and overwhelmed but in a good way

and he definitely turns it back on scar, making sure scar knows how lovely and pretty he is (not that scar really gets doubts about that). but he likes to return the favor, drawing little bits of art on scar and telling him what he loves about him since words aren’t something grian does very often