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[inkykeiji]

omg the idea of someone having the audacity to call *reader’s* phone multiple times while they’re in the moment though?? would kill to have touya-nii handle that for me >.<

omggg are you sure you want touya-nii to handle that for you? because, really, what fucker could possibly be contacting his baby sister at all, let alone several times in fucking succession??? touya’s going to answer in a growl, breathing ripped ragged from the rage instead of the lust as he spits into the receiver she’s fucking busy, can’t you tell? before tossing the phone right next to your head, device bouncing on the mattress from the impact, and pounding into you hard enough to jostle your entire body up the bed, mouth now directly next to your phone. his hips are snapping rapid and relentless and downright ruthless as his cockhead rams repeatedly against your cervix, fucking a stuttered stream of cries from your lips. they sound so gorgeous tangled with the snarls tearing up his throat, rough and raw as they pry past gritted teeth on the tails of heavy exhales, and he hopes whoever was fucking stupid enough to call you more than once thinks so, too <3

it’s only when he hears that droning dial tone that he snatches up the wretched device and squeezes it so hard the plastic case shatters, then hurls the stupid thing at the hardwood, the weight smothering his lungs finally disintegrating as the phone splinters to pieces. that’s better. he’s sure the person on the other line will think twice about persistently calling you next time you don’t answer on the first try.

[fushitoru]

chapter 6: the house party a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton (7.4k)

a/n thank you as always to the pooks @/sinn-clair for beta reading this <333 i'll see you after the chapter is over!

prev. the fall | next. the rebound

general masterlist | series masterlist

Gentle Reader,

One query occupies this Author's mind, be it ladies or mamas alike—what exactly are Miss Itadori and Lord Gojo up to in the countryside? Perhaps a trifling dalliance of hearts, or will the ton bear witness to a scandal uncovered when they arrive for the house party? After having arrived a week early—and positioned as the diamond of the season—one must guess that if all goes well and Miss Itadori plays her cards right, she will be showing off her new surely lavish diamond engagement ring. Yet, she must take great care, for to err in this delicate matter would be to jeopardize a most significant match with Lord Gojo. Only time shall tell the outcome of this intrigue.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Upon waking, the physician informed you that you had been unconscious for some days. Though no immediate danger threatened you, it had been long enough to send both families into a state of great disquiet. It seemed that even before you’d regained full awareness, a servant—who had gasped upon hearing your feeble request for water—had swiftly spread the news, for not a moment later Yuji burst into the room.

“SISTER!” he exclaims, hurtling his way towards you with heavy steps. You flinch in your position on the bed at the sound of his loud voice. “You are awake! Mama seemed like she would faint, Choso had almost popped a bloody vein, he looked like he was about to challenge Lord Gojo to a duel—”

“Yuji! My dear,” you had to shout, interrupting the boy’s ramblings, giving him an uneasy smile. “Lower your volume, please. I might faint back into unconsciousness due to the strain, and this time you will be the one dueling Choso.”

The pout Yuji adopts is akin to a chastened hound as he grabs a chair to sit next to you. You take this moment to surveil your surroundings, now with a clear headedness granted to you that hadn’t been granted before. There were fresh flowers adorning a vase on the table on your bedside, and you seemed to be wearing a shift, cleaned and changed out of your dirty and mud-ridden dress. There was a gauze surrounding your head, and you could feel some similar cloth on your ankle.

You turned to your brother. “Now then, what were you saying?”

He perks up. “Well, you’ve been in quite a state, dear sister! It’s not every day you’re injured before breaking fast. Choso practically spat his tea when he heard! And, of course, Duchess Gojo has been endlessly apologetic. Between Mama, Choso, and me, we’ve all been in quite a state. I daresay you’re hardly known for clumsiness—although you do have your moments on horseback.” At the memories seemingly pooling themselves in his mind, Yuji sniggers while you shoot him a look to not be testy. “And Gojo has been nothing short of attentive. No doubt the man’s come in to change your flowers more than the doctor’s visited you. He’s so caring, he even cares for a worm like you!” 

You ignore Yuji’s jab, instead forcing yourself not to be gripped by the fact that Gojo had been so…attentive to you. Of course, it was as an indirect result of his sheer vexing nature that you were bedridden in such a manner, so it should not set your heart aflutter like a foolish girl. But your traitorous heart seems to hate listening to reason. 

You begin to nod slowly. “And how many days have I been out? When is the house party?” Taking a gander at the windows in the room you were situated in, you could see the moon and star’s light filtering the curtains. You weren’t sure if it was the evening or night or completely early in the morning.

He looks up to the ceiling, as if calculating something, brows furrowed. “Today.”

Groaning, you put your head in your hands, playing with your hair as it falls through the gaps of your fingers. “Mother is going to kill me.”

“Oh, indeed,” Yuji replied with a hum, stretching his arms in a cat-like yawn. “Now, I must get back to my rest. The servants were gossiping near my door, so I thought I’d see for myself that you weren’t dead.” He kissed you on the cheek before heading to the door. “Sleep, sister, for I expect Mama will tire you endlessly come morning.”

Later, a gentle nudge at your arm and a few soft “Miss! Wake up!”’s roused you from sleep. You opened your eyes to find a maid hunched over you, relief clear in her expression as you met her gaze with a drowsy squint. “Miss, Lord Gojo requests your presence. May I allow him in?”

With a nod, you fought off your annoyance at having been disturbed. The maid, visibly flustered, hurried to admit Gojo, who soon approached with quiet footsteps. As you propped yourself up, arms crossed, you gave him a mildly reproachful look. “Gojo, you’ve roused me from my slumber. I trust this is a matter of utmost importance—-” you began, then trailed off as you took in his expression.

He was taut, as though his very sinews were wound tight. Standing rigidly, his jaw clenched, his gaze flitted everywhere but to you. Troubled, you tried, “Gojo?”

At the sound of his name, he looked sharply at you and seemed to gather himself. “Ah… forgive me.” He took a seat and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, artificial. “How is your recovery?” You eye him suspiciously. His leg is moving up and down anxiously, the action minute in a way that makes you think he’s not aware of doing it. The tight and strained smile on his face seems uncanny, his concern seeming out of place. “Well, as much as it can be for me bleeding out pints and pints of blood from my head,” at that, you note that he subtly flinches, “but all is well!” You spread out your arms and give him a dazzling smile, and his eyes follow. “I’m sure my mama and my maid are itching to rush in here to prepare me for the house party.” Giving him a playful glare, you continue, “And just for the pain you caused me, you ought to have two dances and a few pastries prepared tonight.”

At that, he looks at you for a quick glance before quickly turning away, seemingly collecting himself. In what you could observe in his previous expression, you were surprised to see yearning present in his blue eyes, filled with feelings that perplexed you. Gojo was acting very odd.

Then, he drew in a measured breath, his jaw clenched as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. He finally looked at you, a shadowed intensity in his gaze that made your heart beat faster—not in the way it used to when his eyes sparked with wit, but with a sense of foreboding.

"Miss Itadori," he began, his voice lower, lacking the familiar, teasing cadence. "I must apologize for the trouble I have brought upon you. I was… heedless, perhaps even reckless, and it seems I have caused you nothing but suffering."

You frowned, confusion beginning to bubble beneath the surface as he paused, clearly struggling to continue. He seemed almost pitiable, looking down at his hands, which were tightly woven together, his knuckles pale. But pity was not a feeling you had patience for. Not now. Not with Gojo of all people.

"Trouble?" you repeated, folding your arms. "I do believe that's an understatement, my lord. A mere misstep, surely?"

His eyes flicked back to yours, the corner of his mouth tugging in a grim semblance of a smile. "Understatement or not, it remains the truth," he replied, his voice nearly a murmur. "I cannot in good conscience continue this… attachment we have formed. The position of courtship our mamas have placed us in. For I fear it is you who stands to lose most dearly if I remain by your side."

You stiffened, his words crashing over you like a cold wave. "Attachment?" you said, bitterness coloring the word. "Do not dress it up with such kind words, Lord Gojo. An attachment is something formed with care, with respect—qualities you seem to find inconvenient."

He winced but did not break eye contact. "I will not argue with you," he said softly, voice steady in its regret. "Perhaps I am no master of attachments, nor have I ever claimed to be. But know that I had never wished to see you harmed—"

"Harmed?" you interrupted, your voice growing louder as anger swelled within you. "Is this some twisted apology, then? A show of remorse for the inconvenience of your whims?"

Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but you did not allow him the chance.

"How very noble of you, Lord Gojo," you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all this time, to simply say, 'Forgive me; I shall now remove myself from your life,' as if that makes up for the chaos you’ve brought upon me? As if I am but a pawn to be moved at your discretion?"

His face softened slightly, as if he were seeing something in you he hadn't fully expected—a quiet resolve beneath your anger, a dignity that refused to be bruised. "No, Miss Itadori," he said quietly. "I do not wish to see you as a pawn. After all, from what I understand is that you do not know what you desire—and I would only be exploiting that. I only… I only wish to relieve you of the burdens I seem to bring."

You laughed, the sound bitter and laced with fury. "Know what I want? As if you do, dropping pretenses with commoners and putting on your mask for the ton. And relieve me? I don’t think you understand what it is you’ve done, Gojo."

This conversation was dangerous. The emotions you hid under the air of nonchalance were steadily bubbling up, and it seemed that now, your sentiments were threatening to boil over at the sheer audacity of Gojo breaking off this arrangement, of what the ton would think today if he were to be avoiding you like the plague.

He flinched at the sound of his name on your lips, spoken with such venom. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he made no move to respond, simply watched as you gathered your thoughts, your gaze piercing.

"All this time," you said, each word sharper than the last, "I was led to believe there was something more to your attentions. And now, you simply wash your hands of it? You think yourself a gentleman for doing so?"

"Miss Itadori," he said, his voice strained. "I am—"

"You are a coward," you spat, and his eyes widened, the faintest hint of pain flashing in their depths. "Yes, that’s right. A coward, for trying to protect yourself under the guise of protecting me. All this talk of 'relieving me'—do not act as if your decision was made out of kindness." (a/n: OH NO SHE DIDNTTTTT)

"Do you not understand?" he interjected, a sudden fierceness in his voice, his composure beginning to slip. "This is not some petty whim, nor a game. My intentions… they were never meant to bring you harm, but they did. And I cannot bear to see it continue."

"Bear to see it continue?" you repeated incredulously. "Do you think I am some doll, some trifle to discard at your convenience?"

"That was never my intent!" he exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. "If you would but see reason—"

"Reason? From you?" you laughed bitterly, barely able to contain the fury welling up inside you. "Your idea of reason is nothing more than self-preservation, Lord Gojo. How convenient it must be to absolve yourself of guilt by deciding I am better off without you."

He fell silent, the anger in his face ebbing, replaced by a kind of desperation. "You do not understand," he said, quieter, almost pleading. "If I were to stay… if I were to court you in earnest, it would not be the life you think it to be."

"Then let that be my choice to make," you shot back, crossing your arms. "But no—this is not about my well-being, not truly. It is about you, Gojo. It has always been about you."

A tense silence stretched between you, filled only by the soft, uneven breaths that escaped both of you. For a moment, neither dared to speak, both caught in the tangled emotions that hung thick in the air.

Finally, Gojo looked down, his eyes shuttered, his voice weary. "Then hate me, if you must. But I am done with this charade."

"Hate you?" you repeated, the word tasting strange on your tongue. "No, Lord Gojo. Hatred would imply I care enough to feel anything toward you."

Your entire body seethed with fury, every muscle trembling with the strain of keeping yourself upright, sitting on your bed. You couldn't storm out—not with your wounded leg refusing to bear even a fraction of the anger swelling within you. Instead, you pushed yourself up on shaking arms, glaring at him with such venom that he instinctively stepped back.

"Get out," you spat, the words laced with ice, your voice rising as if to fill the entire room. "Out! Now, Gojo—leave me this instant!"

He froze, his shoulders tense as he looked at you with something unreadable, but he made no move toward the door.

"I said leave!" you shrieked—your voice shrill—the strain of it making you nearly lose balance, but you didn't care. Hot tears stung your eyes, and you bit them back, forcing yourself to breathe through the betrayal clawing at your chest. "Take your false apologies, your noble pretensions, and get out of my sight. Go, and never, ever darken my door again."

His mouth opened, as if he might say something—perhaps even something that might soothe the jagged edges of your heart. But your furious gaze dared him to try.

With a pained expression, he finally gave a nod, stepping back toward the door. He lingered for a moment, one last helpless look crossing his face before he turned away, leaving without another word.

The door clicked shut, and you were left alone, shaking with fury, your breath ragged. Your eyes were still on that door, your heart racing, as though expecting him to come back, to take it all back, to be the man you'd witnessed yesterday. But deep down, you knew he would not return.

The first glimmers of morning filtered through the heavy drapes as you stirred awake, still dazed from the events that had left you bedridden. The memories of Gojo’s departure settled heavily on your chest, like a stone dropped in a lake, rippling outward and disturbing any possibility of calm. Your mind drifted over the previous night’s argument, replaying words, and then, with a cringe, the heated moments where you felt every last ounce of self-restraint slip from your grasp.

A small part of you reasoned that you may have been rash—that your anger and hurt had overtaken good sense. After all, it was you who deemed your and Gojo’s match impossible. So why were you so hurt?

Before you could linger on these thoughts, there was a soft knock at your door. 

"Come in," you murmured, propping yourself up gingerly.

What followed soft footsteps was Choso, his gaze warm and steady as he entered, carrying the ease of familiarity that only he could. As he approached, he pulled a chair beside your bed and gave a faint smile.

Choso stepped in quietly, his face softened by a rare smile as he approached. “Awake at last,” he said gently, taking a seat beside you with the care one might afford a delicate flower. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire house party."

He reached out, his hand resting on the crown of your head, fingers slipping through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The fondness in his touch eased the last of the stiffness in your frame, a balm against the soreness both physical and emotional.

“You worry too much,” you muttered, allowing yourself to lean into the comfort he offered, your voice softening as his hand continued to gently scratch at your scalp.

“You look better today,” he said softly, continuing his familiar, soothing rhythm with his fingers. “Though, I’ll admit, you gave us all quite a scare.”

You managed a small smile, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly under his touch. “I suppose I was overdue for a bit of excitement,” you murmured, though the attempt at levity felt thin, even to your own ears.

Choso’s hand stilled momentarily, and his gaze grew searching as he looked at you. “What truly happened yesterday?” he asked, his voice low with concern. “There’s more here than an unfortunate fall, isn’t there?”

You stiffened slightly, glancing away from him. “It was nothing,” you replied, willing your tone to sound convincing. “Just… an ill-timed accident. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

But Choso was not so easily deterred. He watched you closely, his brow furrowing with worry. “You’ve always been a poor liar, sister,” he murmured. “If something happened, you know you can tell me. I only want to understand.”

The quiet earnestness in his tone gnawed at you, and for a moment, you considered confiding in him. But the idea of revisiting last night’s turmoil felt too raw, too immediate. “I’m fine, truly,” you insisted, meeting his gaze with as much steadiness as you could muster. “It was… nothing that can’t be mended with rest.”

Choso’s gaze lingered on you, his fingers resuming their gentle tracing along your scalp as if that alone could soothe whatever burden you were carrying. “Well,” he finally said, his tone filled with fond exasperation, “I won’t press you. But I trust you’ll speak of it when you feel you are ready.”

You gave a slight nod, grateful for his restraint. The quiet between you was comforting, grounding, as he continued his rhythmic motions, easing your thoughts in a way that words could not.

After a long moment, he broke the silence again, his tone lighter this time. “On a more cheerful note,” he began, a faint smile playing on his lips, “you’ll have another visitor tomorrow.”

“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a part of you already guessed who he meant.

“Yes,” he confirmed, a knowing glint in his eye. “Sukuna received word of your injury and set off at once. He’ll be here by morning.”

You let out a small breath, a mixture of relief and trepidation filling you. “Tomorrow, then,” you repeated, feeling a hint of warmth at the thought. “It seems my brothers cannot resist making a fuss.”

Choso chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s what we’re here for. And perhaps Sukuna’s presence will help you feel a bit more at ease during the house party. He’ll see to it that no one bothers you unduly.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, the thought of Sukuna’s reassuring, if overbearing, presence lifting your spirits slightly. “Well, at least there’s that to look forward to,” you murmured, and, with a soft sigh, leaned back against your pillows, letting Choso’s calming presence ease the lingering shadows of last night’s ordeal, even if temporary.

For you had a beast of a social gathering to deal with today, the same one where the ton would descend upon the outcome of your match, ready to laugh at you: the house party.

“He what?” 

You flinched, scowling as you clutched your ears. Nobara’s shrill voice was not helping your recovery, nor were her rough combs through your hair; but alas, beauty has a price, and it’s one you’re reluctantly willing to pay. You oh-so terribly wanted to politely decline the formal invitation, but it seemed that the moment you woke, your mother was dead set on getting you ready for what she thought was your engagement party. Little did she know that her not so future in law had gotten rid of you as if you were a stray animal latched onto him, but who were you to burst her bubble?

Perhaps you ought to dread the inevitable fallout from your mother when the truth emerged, but you consoled yourself with the thought of drowning your sorrows in champagne tonight, delaying her wrath for at least a little while. Besides, the prospect of Sukuna’s impending arrival tomorrow brought you some comfort; his unruly nature often served as a distraction from your own troubles.

You sighed heavily, meeting Nobara’s furious gaze in the mirror. “He merely said he wished to absolve me of any trouble he had caused.”

“Good riddance!” Nobara shrieked, her hand furiously waving around the hair brush in a way that made you wary, for it would not be pleasant for it to make contact with your already tender head.  “He was never the one for you to pursue, for he lacks the honor of a true gentleman! And yet—oh, heavens!” She gestured at you accusingly with the brush, her tone turning sharp. “Why, pray, do you appear so disheartened?”

You open your mouth immediately, indignant and expecting your wit, your usual ally, to conjure a response for you, only to be left open-mouthed when it came up short. Nobara seemed to sense your hesitance, opening her mouth to unleash yet another accusatory and reprimanding remark, but you quickly moved to fill your silence. “I suppose I am just…offended that he dare reject me, the diamond. The ton will seize upon this dissolution with glee. They shall revel in my supposed failure, for it will be indicative of my failure to the Queen.”

Nobara arched a brow, her skeptical silence speaking volumes. She clearly wasn’t convinced, and before she could level another charge against you, a knock sounded at the door.

“Sister, are you decent?”

“Enter, Choso,” you called out, hastily adjusting the neckline of your pale pink gown and straightening the strand of pearls around your neck.

Nobara opened the door, though she made no attempt to soften her posture. The hairbrush remained firmly in her grasp, poised like a weapon, and Choso cast it a wary glance as he stepped inside. His presence brought a sense of calm, even as his expression betrayed some inner turmoil. He hesitated for a moment before moving to sit at the edge of your vanity, his gaze flickering between you and Nobara.

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of his silence. “Well, brother? Out with it,” you urged, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.

He sighed, clearly reluctant. “Very well,” he began. “Pray, hear me out. You know I have never hidden my disapproval of Lord Gojo.” At the sound of that name, you flinched, though you quickly masked it with a curt nod. Choso continued nonetheless, his tone steady but earnest. “In light of recent events, I have taken it upon myself to form…a contingency plan of sorts.”

Your curiosity was piqued, though Nobara snapped at you to sit still as she continued combing through your hair. “Go on,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Choso leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as though to ensure Nobara wouldn’t interrupt. “I have had the pleasure of conversing at length with Duke Nanami.”

You arched a brow, intrigued despite yourself. “The Duke Nanami?”

“Yes,” Choso confirmed. “He is an esteemed gentleman of considerable character, and, as fortune would have it, he is not currently pursuing anyone this season.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. Choso’s intent was clear, and the weight of his proposition settled over you like an unexpected storm. Nobara, meanwhile, had stilled entirely, her hairbrush forgotten in her hand as she turned to gawk at your brother.

“Is this,” she began, her voice disbelieving, “your solution to Gojo’s appalling behavior? To thrust her into the path of another?”

Choso shrugged, unbothered by her skepticism. “A better match by far, I would argue. The Duke has no such inclinations to trifling or dishonor.”

You sighed, leaning back as the tension in the room thickened. “And what makes you so certain the Duke would even entertain such an arrangement?” you asked, your voice tinged with a weariness you hadn’t intended to show.

Choso gave you a small smile, his hand reaching out to pat your shoulder. “Leave that to me, dear sister. For now, focus on enduring tonight’s ordeal. Tomorrow, you may take comfort in Sukuna’s arrival—and in the knowledge that your prospects are not as grim as they seem.”

You exhaled, unsure whether to feel gratitude or exasperation, as Choso rose from his seat. Whatever plans he had in motion, they would unfold in time. For now, you could only prepare yourself for the chaos that awaited.

Gojo had outdone himself. Truly, magnificently outdone himself.

From the moment you entered the house, your hand resting lightly on Choso’s arm, the stares began. They weren’t the polite glances reserved for new arrivals at such gatherings—these were sharp, lingering, and accompanied by a cacophony of whispers that only heightened your unease.

You straightened your back, chin held high, determined not to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. But it was impossible to ignore the way every eye seemed to follow you, every head turned to observe as you passed. Whatever it was that had stirred this interest, you were certain Gojo was at the heart of it.

Feeling the oppressive smog of stares, you knew where you could find solace: the drinks table, where you could down a flute of champagne alongside your stress. And right as you excuse yourself from Choso’s hold, who is now looking in the general direction of some men—particularly a gaggle of men that included Lord Geto and Duke Nanami, who were looking at something in the direction of the dance floor with interest. As you walk, you take in the scene: a beautiful chandelier, and red drapings and coverings embellished with gold, a bloody alternative to the Gojo icy blue. You’re not sure why today’s ensemble of colors didn’t include blue, but you believe it is fitting for what’s going to happen to you after this party is over and your mother finds out about the elephant in the room. 

And as you glance longingly at the couples gliding across the floor, their movements synchronized with the lilting strains of the orchestra, your breath catches.

It is then that you see him.

Gojo Satoru is spinning a girl across the dance floor, his coat tails trailing like ribbons in the air. His lips move as he speaks, the tilt of his head paired with that too-familiar smirk. His partner laughs at something he’s said, a soft sound that reaches you even from this distance. You could almost identify her—there is no debutante in the ton you have not cataloged, no rival whose dossier you do not possess—but tonight, it does not matter. She is just a blur of chiffon and curls, another face in a sea of women enthralled by him.

Your chest tightens as you take in the scene, a memory unspooling unbidden.

Is this what your first dance with Gojo had looked like to others? Did you appear as enraptured as this girl, your steps as confident and sure beneath his lead? You remember his light touch at your back, his questions whispered so quietly you doubted even the orchestra could eavesdrop, his eyes full of a charm so practiced it felt like a spell cast just for you.

And yet now, the spell is broken.

He is steering her—steering everything—with such ease that it almost makes you laugh. Were he not so infuriating, you might have admired his grace, the way he seamlessly dominates both the conversation and the dance. His amusement is evident in the quirk of his brow, the corners of his mouth curling with every word she utters, no doubt answering his questions with meek enthusiasm.

She is simple. You can tell from the way he looks at her, the way he pauses before replying as if translating his own thoughts into something digestible for her. The way she beams at him—unaware of how deeply he calculates every move—is almost endearing. Almost.

He is drawing the same conclusions he did of you. Simple, lacking substance. 

The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

But then the girl laughs again, a little too loud, and Gojo’s expression flickers for just a second—long enough for you to notice. His smile tightens, his gaze sliding briefly across the room as though searching for something more stimulating. It is instinctual, this glance, and his head tilts in such a way that you know it will land on you if you linger a moment longer.

Your heart stutters in protest, your legs already moving.

Punch table. Right.

As you near it, you grab the closest drink and down it one sip, desperate for the cool of the liquid to calm both your throat and your heated mind, furious with thoughts and anxiety of those around you. And it was just as you begin to set down the cool glass that  in your periphery comes the man who soon tests your resolve.

“Miss Itadori,” a voice drawled behind you, the unmistakable lilt of smugness weaving through it.

You turned, and there stood Naoya Zen’in, his grin as unctuous as ever. He bowed slightly, though the gesture felt more like mockery than courtesy. “I must say, you are positively radiant tonight.”

You inclined your head ever so slightly, each movement deliberate. “Mr. Zen’in. How kind of you to say.”

He grinned, and the sight was unsettling, a serpent preparing to strike. “Radiant, yes. A pity Lord Gojo has finally come to his senses and moved on. I thought the two of you might actually prove interesting.”

Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression serene. “I fail to see how my affairs are of interest to you, Mr. Zen’in.”

“Oh, but they are,” he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering as though he were sharing a confidant’s secret. “Everyone is watching, you know. Wondering why Lord Gojo is…otherwise occupied tonight.” He tilted his head, motioning discreetly toward the mantle, a few meters away, where Gojo stood, entertaining and welcoming another lady.

Your eyes betrayed you, flicking briefly in that direction. Gojo’s figure remained in your periphery, still close enough to notice but far enough to be unattainable. You tore your gaze away, unwilling to feed Naoya’s glee.

Naoya leaned in, his tone growing more audacious. “Quite the spectacle, wouldn’t you agree? Though perhaps it’s for the best. You have much to offer, Miss Itadori—breeding hips, for one.”

The words hit you like a slap, your mind reeling in fury and disbelief. Your breath hitched, but before you could muster a scathing retort, something else caught your attention.

Gojo’s hand, resting casually against the column, tightened into a fist. The movement was subtle, but unmistakable—a barely contained tension that you might have missed if you weren’t already attuned to his every breath, his every twitch.

Still, you refused to look directly at him. Whatever he felt, it mattered not.

“Mr. Zen’in,” you began, voice icy and measured, though the rage burned beneath the surface, “your comments are as inappropriate as they are unwelcome. I suggest—”

“Sister.”

Choso’s voice interrupted like a lifeline thrown to a drowning sailor. You turned to see your older brother approaching, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they darted between you and Naoya. He came to your side, his imposing presence creating an impenetrable wall between you and the unwelcome intruder.

“Mr. Zen’in,” Choso greeted with a curt nod, his tone laced with a warning. “I trust you’ll excuse my sister. She and I were just about to take a turn about the room.”

Naoya’s grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, stepping back with a mocking bow. “Of course. Do enjoy your evening.”

Choso wasted no time, offering his arm to you. You took it gratefully, your legs unsteady as he guided you away from the scene and toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice gentle but firm, as though bracing himself for a truth he might not like.

You nodded, though the words escaped you. Your hands trembled slightly, and Choso placed his over yours, steadying you. “I saw the way you looked,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “At Lord Gojo.”

Your breath caught, but you said nothing, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of your brother’s steps.

“Whatever he’s done—or hasn’t done—you are worth far more than his regard,” Choso continued, his tone resolute. “Do not forget that.” A pause. “Are you all right, Sister?”

“I am fine,” you lied, though your trembling hands betrayed you.

The evening only worsened from there.

More and more, you felt the weight of curious glances, the whispers growing louder as the night wore on. The absence of Gojo’s attention did not go unnoticed—least of all by your mother, who approached you and Choso with a determined expression, her fan snapping shut with a sharp flick of her wrist.

The warmth of the ballroom’s lights could not thaw the ice that slipped down your spine as your mother approached. Her movements were poised as ever, but the tightness in her lips and the fury barely hidden in her eyes told you everything. She stopped just short of you, her fan snapping shut with a sharp click that made you flinch.

“Explain,” she hissed, her voice low enough to avoid drawing the attention of onlookers but sharp enough to carve into you.

Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced towards Choso for reinforcement, but his furrowed brow and subtle shake of his head told you he would not intervene—not yet.

“I… don’t understand, Mother,” you murmured, though the words tasted hollow even as you said them.

“Do not toy with me, child,” she snapped, her tone still hushed but more cutting. “The entire room is whispering. Where is Lord Gojo? Why has he not so much as glanced in your direction tonight? Why is he—” Her eyes darted to the waltz floor, where Gojo had just excused himself from yet another partner. “Why is he dancing with others while you stand here like a forgotten debutante?”

The words hit like a slap, and you flinched again, your gaze falling to your gloved hands. You wanted to speak, to explain, but the lump in your throat grew larger with every second.

Her voice softened but grew no less fierce. “What have you done?”

Your chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, you considered telling her everything—about the garden, about Gojo’s words, about how utterly humiliated you had felt. But then the heat of the ballroom pressed down on you, the glances from curious onlookers prickling your skin like needles.

You couldn’t. Not here.

So, you said nothing.

The silence between you stretched thin, your mother’s patience fraying with every passing moment. Finally, she straightened, her lips pressed into a pale line. “This is how you repay all that has been done for you?” she whispered, her voice trembling with restrained fury. “Do you even comprehend what this will do to your prospects? To this family? You have disgraced yourself, and worse—you have disgraced me.”

Her words left you hollow, the guilt settling into the spaces where indignation might have taken root. Still, you could not look up, nor could you summon any defense.

Your mother’s fan snapped open again with a sharp flick, the motion more violent than graceful. “We are leaving,” she declared, turning abruptly on her heel. “Now.”

Choso stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your elbow as if to steady you. You dared a glance at him, finding his gaze steady and quietly supportive. It was only his presence that kept your legs moving as you followed your mother toward the grand doors.

The weight of the room’s collective gaze bore down on you with every step. The music swelled in the background, mocking you with its cheerfulness. As you neared the exit, your feet faltered.

And then you saw him.

Gojo.

He stood near the edge of the dance floor, his posture uncharacteristically tense, his jaw clenched tightly, his usual easy confidence dimmed. His head tilted slightly, his eyes cutting through the crowd to meet yours.

Your breath hitched. In his gaze, you saw regret—yearning, even—and something else you couldn’t quite name.

But it didn’t matter.

You tore your eyes away, your jaw tightening as a steely resolve settled over you.

You would not break.

Not here. Not now. Not for him.

As you stepped into the cool night air, you drew in a deep breath, willing the ache in your chest to dissipate. Gojo Satoru had taken enough from you. Your heart, your dignity—no more.

If he thought you would crumble, he was mistaken.

He would regret this, you vowed silently.

And you would make certain of it.

The morning that came in a few days was no less disheartening than the night of the house party. The morning sun filtered weakly through the gauzy curtains of the drawing room, casting pale, lackluster patterns on the carpet. Even the sunlight seemed hesitant, as if it knew it had no place in the solemn atmosphere that hung over your family.

Even Yuji was solemn as you all sipped on your tea, the drawing room oddly quiet as you reflected in the aftermath of the past few days. The events of the house party still loomed over you. Your family’s hasty departure had been punctuated by the sight of your mother in whispered conversation with Duchess Gojo, their faces tight with the bitterness of dashed expectations. You had no doubt they had commiserated over your perceived recklessness and Gojo’s insolence, lamenting how the perfect match they had orchestrated had unraveled before their very eyes.

You had borne it all in silence.

But now, in the cold light of morning, your resolve felt brittle.

Your hands tightened around your teacup as you stared into the amber liquid, your reflection rippling with each shallow breath you took. Independence? That word felt hollow. You had fought for it, yes, but at what cost? The ton’s whispers had already begun. You could feel their weight pressing on you, suffocating in their judgment. The laughter and speculation at your expense would echo through parlors and ballrooms for weeks, if not months.

And yet, deep down, there was a spark of defiance. They thought this was your undoing. They thought you would crumble. But they had no idea.

"Why does it feel like we’re mourning?" Yuji muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, but the sarcasm was unmistakable. "It’s not as though anyone has died."

Your mother’s sigh this time was louder, sharper, and followed by a pointed glance in his direction. “Yuji, do not jest,” she snapped. "This is no laughing matter."

Choso, who had been reclining with one arm draped lazily over the armrest of his chair, sat up straighter. “Mother,” he said cautiously, his voice soft but steady, “I think it’s time we address what’s truly troubling you.”

Her handkerchief stilled in her lap. For a moment, the room was silent again, the tension thick enough to choke on.

“Troubling me?” she repeated, her tone icy. “You think I am troubled, Choso?”

“Everyone is troubled,” Choso replied, his gaze flicking briefly to you. "But perhaps if you said what’s on your mind, we could all breathe a little easier."

Your mother’s lips thinned as she sat up straighter, her shoulders stiff. “Very well,” she said sharply, “if you must know, I am ashamed.”

The word hit you like a slap, even though you had expected it. You gritted your teeth, staring down at your tea to hide the flush of anger and embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“Ashamed of what?” you asked quietly, your voice tighter than you intended.

“Of you,” she replied without hesitation. “Of the scandal you have brought upon this family. Do you think your actions have no consequences? Do you think the ton will simply overlook your…” She hesitated, clearly searching for the most cutting word. “Your antics with Lord Gojo?”

You felt Choso stiffen beside you, his protective instincts clearly flaring, but you held up a hand to stop him. You wouldn’t hide behind your brothers—not this time.

“I have done nothing wrong,” you said, your voice low but firm. “Gojo and I made a mutual decision that we were incompatible. We—”

“You humiliated yourself!” she interrupted, her voice rising. “And by extension, this family. Do you think people are speaking of him? No! It is you they ridicule. It is your name they sully.”

Your chest burned with anger and hurt, but before you could retort, Yuji shifted uncomfortably, muttering, “This is getting out of hand…”

“You think I care about their opinions?” you snapped, finally lifting your gaze to meet your mother’s. “The ton has always been cruel. They would find a reason to gossip no matter what I did. I refuse to live my life pandering to their expectations—”

“And look where that refusal has left you,” your mother interrupted, her voice shaking with fury. “Unmarried. Ruined. Who will have you now?”

You flinched, the words cutting deeper than you thought possible. Your lips parted, but no words came out. What could you possibly say to that?

The silence that followed was deafening.

Until a voice, smooth and amused, broke it.

“Now, now, Mother. I know you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, but let us not turn your theatrics onto our dearest sister.”

All heads turned toward the entrance, where a figure lounged against the doorway, his presence commanding without even trying. There he stood—Sukuna, your brother, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had kept you waiting for days. Both you and Yuji involuntarily gasped in excitement, while Choso only shook his head in amusement and crossed his arms.

He strode into the room with an air of nonchalance, his tailored attire immaculate, his smile one of mocking amusement. His gaze flicked to your mother, then to you, lingering for a moment as if to appraise the damage left in her wake.

“Good morning,” he said smoothly, the corners of his mouth curling. “I trust I’ve arrived in time to save you from a most tiresome sermon.”

Your mother bristled, but her voice faltered, her ire now redirected. “Sukuna, this is hardly the time for your irreverence—”

“And yet here I am,” he interrupted, dropping into a chair with the kind of ease that only Sukuna could muster. He leaned back, his sharp gaze softening just slightly as it fell on you. “I thought you might appreciate a reprieve. You seem to have had enough lectures for a lifetime.”

You could feel tears welling in your eyes. You had severely underestimated how much you missed your elder brother, seeing his presence stir a fondness and comfort you hadn’t felt ever since he left for Europe. And it seemed that your brothers shared your sentiment; Yuji was basically on his haunches, doing everything he could not to leave his chair to tackle Sukuna, and Choso barely holding in an amused smile. 

“Still causing chaos wherever you go, I see,” Choso said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.

Sukuna smirked. “Someone has to keep things interesting.”

Your mother huffed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she rose from her seat. “I refuse to be made a fool in my own home. Sukuna, do try not to corrupt your siblings further while I attend to matters of actual importance.” She swept out of the room with her usual imperious grace, leaving a silence in her wake.

As soon as she left, you left your chair to basically jumping on him, hugging him tightly as he reciprocated your hug with wrapping his big arms around yours with equal fervor. “Kuna,” you whispered, burying your face into his chest as the tears started flowing. His presence surrounded you, offering you a comfort and familiarity that the eventful weeks, ever since your debut, hadn’t offered

Sukuna looked down to you with a raised brow as he patted your head affectionately. “Well, that was entertaining. Now, who’s going to tell me what truly happened while I was gone?”

prev. the fall | next. the rebound

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n hi everyone!!! so i lied and said the update wasn't gonna take as long #womaninmalefields BUT thank you for your patience <3

so uh....we are now gonna enter the arc with DRAMAA. there will be yearning, there will be angst, and soon after, there will be fluff. idk if anyone needs to hear this, but, again, this series will have a happy ending. if anyone is sad, don't worry. i'm going to make gojo grovel <3

SUKUNA IS BACK SUKUNA IS BACK what do we think?! spoiler alert this is what sukuna will wanna do to gojo after reader spills the tea

THANK U FOR READING!!! rest assured reader a BADDIE there will be some showing ankles and lowering bustlines to start our reputation era and infuriate gojo but u didnt hear that from me !!!

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3

TAGLIST:

@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover

@kalulakunundrum @r0ckst4rjk @mo0sin @angelina7890 @jaeminaur

@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco

@fortunatelyfurrygiver @aurora-tiny @gojonegs @luna-v-roiya @xxemmarldxx

@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2

[aris-ink]

hiii, i hope you're doing well and just wanted to say that i absolutely looove your writing. 😭🤍 there aren't many fic writers that dive into the darker themes, so thank you a ton for sharing your work with us!! also; i'm not sure if you're accepting requests at the moment, but on the off-chance that your are, could you please maybe write a con/noncon or dubcon fic with yoongi?? thank you so much, have a great day!! <333

I love youuu 💕 tysm and yes baby, I hope you have a great day/night too <3

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: strangers to lovers

warnings: mentions of blood and violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, stalking, smoking, (consensual) drugging, con noncon, corruption (kink?), somnophilia, oral sex (f!receiving), implied multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, praise, possessiveness, some choking, slight spit kink, brief mentions of impact play, restraints (handcuffs), implied imprisonment and possible dub con at the end, bad metaphors (lmao), this is messed up but what's new

Yoongi hated clubs; but he was ever so grateful he let himself get dragged into one on the first night that he saw you. Even in the hazy, flickering lights and the beat of the music drumming through his chest, all his senses were focused on you. Palms sweaty, he watched you sip on your drink, your lipstick tainting the glass. He wished he could feel your mouth pressing into him like that, into the hollow of his throat and in between his thighs.

He wished he could say he did the decent thing, sat down beside you and asked for your name. Took you out on a date and made up some lame excuse about being cold to hold your hand as you walked down a dimly lit lane, dry orange and yellow leafs falling around you. He'd give you his jacket and kiss you goodnight, replay the moment on repeat in his head as he'd fall asleep.

Instead, he followed you home and left a pile of ashes on the cold pavement leading to your apartment complex, smoking one cigarette after another as dawn settled in. Call him a hopeless romantic, but there was a feeling he got when your eyes met his across the club that night. Like he had met you before. Like he knew you inside out. Like you were everything he's ever wanted, the missing piece he didn't even know he needed.

And the missing piece, to fit, had to be just as twisted and broken as the rest of him.

It was easy to learn your routines. Even easier to clean out the blood from his clothes when men tried to hit on you. On Saturday nights, he watched you through the shimmering colors and the smoke of the club, eye contact with him becoming your only source of communication. And yet, it was more than enough. Your eyes said a lot. Enticed him to come out of the shadows and get closer.

It took him three weeks.

Three weeks before he made his way through the crowd and slipped a small pill into your drink. It still bubbled and fizzed when you came back from the bathroom, catching your attention for a moment before your head snapped in his direction. The corner of his lips twitched.

You took a breath then lifted the glass, staring right at him as you gulped down its contents. At that moment it was his dick that twitched, his heartbeat picking up its pace. You were a dream. A dream he couldn't wait to hold.

He glanced at the watch wrapped around his wrist, then counted down the minutes, careful to keep an eye on you. Your safety was his responsibility now and he was not going to let anyone come near you unless they wanted their heads bashed into the bar.

When he saw you slump in your seat, your eyes fluttering in disorientation, he got up and pushed his way through the dancefloor. His strong arm snaked around your waist just as your knees gave out, pulling you into his side. You felt so warm, the smell of your perfume clouding his senses. He leaned down to press his lips against your ear, voice low as he muttered.

"You're a nasty little girl, huh? But don't worry, I got you."

You moaned softly, a sound that made him feel hot all over. He led you out of the club slowly, as not to arouse suspicion, blaming your broken state on too many shots to the bouncer. Snuggled into his side, you held on to him so tightly that it was almost too easy. It took him a mere moment to have you outside and then in the backseat of his car.

You lay down on your side, curling your knees up to your chest. The position exposed the smooth flesh of your thighs. Yoongi tried not to let his mind wander and checked up on you in the rearview mirror, familiar roads rushing by in the light of street lanterns.

"You okay?"

You made a small noise at the back of your throat. Yoongi looked back for a moment.

"It was a small dose. You good?"

You only nodded in response, your eyes falling closed. Yoongi couldn't help the heat twisting through his stomach; you were so vulnerable, all his to take. The fantasy of it haunted him for so long that parking in front of his place no longer felt real. He helped you out of the car like a gentleman, hands on your waist, squeezing it softly as he brought you into the warmth of his house. Through the dark corridor, then into his bedroom, where you landed on the mattress with him hovering above you.

His hot, shallow breaths caressed your face, one leg sneaking in between your thighs.

"This what you wanted?" He whispered. "To get fucked up so I can use that cute, little body all night?"

You squeezed his arm, your grip on it weak. Your hand immediately fell back down.

"No," you protested, barely a sigh.

Yoongi tilted his head.

"No? Then why did you drink the drugged shot, baby? Why did you let me take you home?"

You could barely keep your eyes open, fighting to make your lips move, your chest heaving under his.

"I..." You whispered, then bit your lip.

Yoongi hummed, slowly running his hand down your waist.

"You?" He mocked, amused. "Don't get shy on me now."

Inch by inch, he slid his hand up to your chest, settling it on your breast. He gave it a soft squeeze, placing a kiss right under your ear.

"You just wanted me to take care of you, yeah?" He cooed. "I'll take care of you, baby."

You let out a quiet moan. It was all he needed to twist your nipple through the cotton material of your dress, attaching his lips to your neck. He covered the sensitive skin there in slow, hot kisses. Your little mewls encouraged him to descend further down, brush against your collarbones before he lowered the front of your dress.

Beautiful.

He was already leaking and throbbing, fingers hooking into the soft cups of your bra to expose your breasts completely to his hungry eyes. With a grunt, he immediately wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and twirling his tongue as your back arched.

You tasted sweet, so sweet he could barely restrain himself from bruising you with his mouth. He was getting impatient, desperate to bury his cock inside you and fuck you. But the dark night outside his window was so still, clocks no longer ticking under its spell. There was no need to rush. And every wet, open mouthed kiss he trailed down your body seemed to be messing with the mechanisms more, engines failing and falling apart in Father Time's tower.

His breathing came out heavier when he reached your navel, pushing the hem of your dress up your thighs. His fingertips danced across your skin, his nose brushing against the inside of your thigh. The only sign of you still being conscious was a small whimper that escaped you, delightful and thrilling to his ears.

Slowly, he revealed the black lace that hugged your curves, his eyes taking in every inch before focusing on the big, wet spot formed right in the middle. His breath caught in his throat.

He had no idea you'd be this wet. Just aching to be filled; or touched, or kissed. The beauty of it all was that you had no choice but to take whatever he was willing to give you. He could stand up, fuck your face and come all over it, leaving you to keep dripping and whining, unsatisfied and cold. Lonely.

But he would never do that. He promised he'd take care of you, didn't he? He had made this promise to himself even before he ever spoke it aloud. All he wanted was to love you. Worship you like you deserved.

"Baby," he sighed, his lips hovering just above your cute, soaked, covered clit. "Is this all for me?"

You only mewled, your head lolling to the side. Yoongi smiled, delicate fingers coming into contact with your mound only to pull your panties aside.

His cock twitched inside his jeans at the sight of you, bare, swollen and so fucking ready to be taken. He could practically see your little, empty hole clenching in need, wondering how it would feel if it did that around his dick.

He was moving forward before he even realized it, pink tongue poking out to rub into your slit. Your hips almost bucked; it was the most reaction you have shown so far, your breaths growing unsteady.

Yoongi could have came right then and there. If he thought you tasted sweet before, there were no words to describe it now, his tongue coated in the slick as it instantly dived in to taste more.

A deep, raspy hum escaped him. He sucked on your clit softly, feeling your leg twitch in response. He detached his mouth from you only to look up, murmur words of comfort even if that meant he'd die of thirst.

"It's okay."

He lifted himself up to climb on top of you again, dark eyes taking in your dilated pupils and parted lips. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek.

"Don't fight it, baby. Let yourself float away. I'll be here when you get back down."

Your eyes fluttered shut. Yoongi licked his lips before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss on each of your eyelids, a promise of protection behind the closed curtains, before his lips moved to hover above your ear.

"You'll wake up with me still inside you."

The uneasy, sharp intake of breath made him want to laugh. You couldn't quite keep up with the changes in his demeanor. There was no mystery to it, though. Of course Yoongi was the devil; nothing more, nothing less. But what kind of a devil didn't protect what he owned? You were his prey, his victim and his god all at once.

He stroked your hair, watching sleep take over you, dragging you deep, deep into a mute darkness. He let his forehead rest in the crook of your neck for a moment, trying his best not to let impatience take over him now and ruin everything.

But who was he kidding? There was no way he could hold back, and there was no need for that either. Not when he had so much time.

With a quiet groan, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his jeans down just enough to free himself of their tight confines and grip his cock. He pressed the flushed tip in between your soaked folds, pushing forward no more than an inch before he paused. His brows furrowed, sweat breaking over his body.

You were so warm and tight. He could feel you pulsing and leaking around him, the silky heat trying to suck him in deeper.

He was a goner.

With a curse and one, smooth thrust forward, he plunged the rest of his thick cock deep inside you and immediately set a pace. Low groans filled up the room, followed by the slick sound of skin slapping on skin.

Something about the way you couldn't respond or even move made his stomach clench. Utter devotion. Complete surrender. He could do whatever he wanted to you, and the fact had his cock throbbing, pushing him closer to the edge. He could kiss you, leave his imprint on your soul, then slap you and leave another one on your cheek. He could play with you in any way he liked, defile any hole he wanted. The thought prompted him to fuck you harder, shivers crawling up his spine. You'd probably wake up so beautifully bruised from the force of his thrusts, aching-

His stomach dropped low. Fuck, he could kill you. The realization hit him like a freight train. You were so, so fucked up, and so perfect. You put your body and soul into his hands, to damage, to love, to own completely.

He came hard, his head dropping into your neck. You clenched around his cock so much, in the haze he briefly wondered if you were coming too. He moaned, rutting his hips into you desperately, fucking his cum into like you deserved. Because honestly, what a slut. What a fucking angel.

Perfection personified.

In the morning, you came to rather... slowly. The curtains were closed, but daylight still broke through, casting some light into the dim room. Yoongi was right there, kissing you awake. Still buried deep inside you like he promised, feeling your walls tighten around him as your eyes fluttered open. A soft moan slipped past your lips, a shiver following when you registered the finger circling your nipple, hard and wet with his spit. He groaned, his thrusts slow and deep, though a new kind of fire ignited inside him as your eyes locked. He's been waiting so patiently for you to wake up, feel his cock stretching you open. React. Realize just how much he ruined you for any other man. Tell him you loved him.

Your back arched under him. You tried to wrap your arms around his neck, but something immediately halted your movements, holding your arms back.

The clinking of metal made your head snap up.

Yoongi stilled, observing you take in the handcuffs restraining you to the headboard. Confusion - then panic. Wide eyes, a gasp, combined with a clench.

Groaning, he started trailing soft kisses across your neck, his free hand squeezing your ass.

"You good?"

He repeated the same question he had asked you last night. You whimpered, your muscles still too weak to aid you in any attempts at resistance.

He smirked, pressing the next kiss under your ear.

"Name's Yoongi," he murmured. "Scream it, moan it, whine it all you want, baby. I wanna hear you. Don't worry - no one else will."

You quivered beneath him and around him, your breath catching in your throat when his hips rolled into you again, returning to their steady rhythm.

"Y-yoongi-" it was a whine, and it was enthralling to hear, as was the shakiness in your voice. "What are you doing?"

He moaned into your ear.

"What do you mean, baby? Did you expect me to ever let you go?"

He lifted his head to lean his forehead on yours, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. He felt your pulse race beneath his fingers, though he didn't press hard. He felt your pussy fluttering, too, a fresh wave of arousal flooding his cock. There was no denying your desires or your true nature.

"Don't even pretend you want that, angel. I'm gonna keep you. Yeah? Is that okay with you, babygirl? Would you like that, slut?"

You cried out, your thighs shaking around him as you came. Yoongi picked up his pace and fucked you all the way through it. Your orgasm quickly tipped him over the edge too, breathy, mindless praises falling from his lips.

Yeah, yeah, fuck, you little- ngh- you're mine, mine, mine, I'm gonna- fuck, yeah, good little girl.

Sensitive and spent, with his chest pressed against yours, he tried to catch his breath. Your heart seemed to be pounding in sync with his, fear and excitement mixing together to create a heady cocktail.

He lifted himself up, eyes hooded and hair messy, only to look down at you and kiss you again. Sip, sip, sip. There was no getting sober from this kind of liquor.

His lips moved against yours tenderly, with meaning, with purpose. With messages he needed to deliver.

You're safe with me.

Nothing in the world would ever hurt you again, except him. But you craved that. And he'd give you anything you'd ask for.

You're beautiful.

Filthy, pure, fucked up, perfect. In every way.

You're mine.

He sincerely hoped you wrote a heartfelt goodbye note to your old life, friends and family; or what he liked to call collateral damage. No one who helped you break yourself to pieces deserved to be around anymore, let alone around you.

It was time to start anew.

"Do your wrists hurt?" He sighed into your lips, barely stopping himself from diving in for another kiss.

You nodded slightly, your eyes still closed. Yoongi purred, his heart tightening in his chest. He had absolutely zero qualms about setting you free. This was what you wanted; no matter how much internal conflict you might have to go through. This was what you needed; for someone to take the weight of the world off your shoulders and bear it instead.

He unlocked the handcuffs and placed a few kisses onto your hands. You wouldn't run away. It was clear in the way you lay beneath him, accepting his affection with a flush, even if you did shake a little. Besides...

"I have a gift for you," he whispered, looking up at you. "From last night."

You exhaled softly, then froze as he leaned in to speak the next words into your ear, voice low and lips quirked upwards.

"How about a movie night, baby?"

💌 taglist: @wonyuknow @baalsgurl1913 @glowunderthemoon @bucketofhiros @era-genius @imnotlauriane @sweetempathprunetree @silv3rswirls @iceprincessviviane @osakis-gf @httpsbts @kooktrash

[revalition]

OCT 12 - ESPRIT DE CORPS Connect to Station 41. Understand cop culture. (yes I know it's not the 12th anymore, shhhh)

Esprit de Corps! I love this little cop radio, even if his picture weirded me out a bit at first. I gave him the patrol cloak :) it's clearly very important to him. Unlikely I'll get suggestion out today but luckily! tomorrow is off day so I can catch up then!

As usual lots under the cut!

EdC doesn't talk much on their own, but there are still tons of cool quotes!

I was *so* sad to not get to check on kim my second playthrough (it's a challenging check and my psyche was 2...) it's very important

EdC does *not* approve. No cop radio for you.

you picking up non-cops like titus on cop radio is very important to me. titus is a cop in his heart!!

cuno too <3 it's not bad!!

Rare esprit de corps commentary, straight from the heart

of course. absolutely nothing odd about that

if EdC believes the headless faln rider was a cop then so do I

<333 my first playthrough I got this and was very very happy

hghh kimmm. EdC giving you this look into what he's doing.

lol

??? buddy. no!

if you get the kim callout on speedfreaks fm !

nooo

lol wonderful. it's okay harry, my skills give me useless answers like this too...

what does this mean? did kim have a dream about the hanged man?

<333

poor guy.

here are the other options too:

YOU - A firefighters uniform? ESPRIT DE CORPS - Exactomundo!

YOU - An animal control uniform? ESPRIT DE CORPS - The police of animals, yes!

YOU - A nurse's uniform? ESPRIT DE CORPS - Yes. Nurses, why not...

please he's doing his best :(((

him struggling terribly with deciding if jean's from your station or not is so funny. he picks up entire jean conversations throughout the game, including his full name and everything! maybe the sunglasses and wig are throwing him off...?

very important cop radio line!!

hehe. EdC always adds such great commentary from kim

kim insights! kim insights!

wow! thank you EdC we all really needed to know that

awh lonesome idiot harry...

poor guy just wants you to be a cop

hmm

big one but the EdC dialogues in here are great :) if you stop nodding early, he tells you that you should follow your brother into death itself

he knows how to portray you in a flattering light for sure

high reputation kim respect!!!

that's all 30. ily EdC.

[sunflowersandink]

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

awww man. this is legit an impossible question for me to answer, there are SO many I love for so many different reasons.

I think if I had to pick one artist it would be @silk-scarlet-ribbons - the way they capture movement and character and expression is just absolutely unparalleled to me, every work of hers just slots into its own little spot in my brain that I didn’t realize was empty.

A lot of my favorite works of theirs are discord exclusives that won’t make a lot of sense without an entire AU’s worth of context, but here’s a great one that lives rent-free in my head - featuring Jason dressing up in his old Robin outfit at the request of de-aged/clone baby Dickiebin. The sharp affection in Jason’s face? The absolutely cherubic energy Dickiebin is exuding? The way Dick’s little hands wrap around Jason’s wrist? The pixie boots? Perfect. Showstopping. Incredible. NO one is doing it like Scar is.

I also think I have to include @ky-landfill in here - there’s absolutely no way I can pick one favorite piece (true for every one of these artists tbh), because everything they draw makes my heart ache in the very best of ways, but I have a ton of love for this piece

I’m just so attached to Jason and Cass getting to be siblings. I love how small she is beside him, I love the way his hair curls and the scars on his cheek, I love that he looks like a battered young man and looks so soft at the same time, with his arms held awkwardly like he’s not sure how to respond to being hugged. It’s just so. *ugh.* you know? I could stare at this for hours

And finally I’ve gotta shout out @amorkuku. this was the first work of theirs that I remember seeing, and oh my god I have not stopped cackling about it since

everything about it just catches me right in the funny bone. Kon’s stupid little delighted face and Tim’s entire everything as he gets dropped on his ass. Both of their •_• faces as the adults in their lives stare at them in disappointment. The way Clark looks so concerned and Bruce manages to look so tired with minimal facial expression. It’s a piece of comedic genius, and everything else this artist has ever done, especially a lot of their recent Dami and Jason comics has been an absolute goddamn delight. If I could buy a collection of their works in a physical book like I did with Wayne Family Adventures I would do it in a heartbeat

God there are SO many more works that spark joy but if I keep going we will literally be here all day <333

[irestuffs]

Hi! I noticed you write in some posts "originally posted..." and it's always from some time ago. Did you posted this fanarts here on another blog or...?

Also, I love your art so much! Hope you have a great day! 🫴✨️

hi hi, thank you so much! I had an active art blog before this one since 2022 ( @iredoodles-i-moved-acc )

though there was a point where I got attacked by spam bots, constantly getting spam followers and a flooded inbox, even now. the worst was last year, where I ended up with around 40k+ spam bot followers

all in all, my blog is becoming more broken and is making me uncomfortable in general so I had to move out =v=

reposting some of my drawings here is just for the aesthetic of my blog, mostly. since I do love most of them wholeheartedly <333

and I will post new drawings here too! even outside tmnt. I have tons to share~

[tonberry-yoda]

LAST ONE I SWEAR: Hermes with the Love at first sight thingy? You are the best thank you omg🤍✨️

Love - Hermes (f!reader)

notes - I havent been feeling 10/10 SO HERE I AM WRITING FOR MY COMFORT CHARACTER IN ROR!!! How can I not?!??!?! It got a little self inserty, BUT I DONT CARE I LOVE HIM SM HOW CAN I NOT?!?!??!?! I'm kinda obsessed with his design tee hee. I had a ton of fun writing this, so thank you for the request!! ily and i hope you have an amazing day <333

word count - 717

You were just a human. A human that was bored of life.

You sighed and spent your time studying Greek Mythology. You seemed to be very fixated on it recently. It was so interesting, the way that the gods would live. And who knew, maybe they were wonderful people. You laughed at the thought. How stupid. If a god met you, you would probably be dead.

You were especially fixated on Hermes though. He was a god that never stopped showing up in every myth you read. He was fun to read about. He was always saying something witty or just being the most reasonable god. He was the most... human, you supposed.

You only wondered if these stories you escaped with were real at all. You wished that you could meet someone like Hermes.

Walks were close enough to your escape though, especially the woods by your house. They were full and green; very fantasy-esque. You loved them. Especially getting overdressed to go on a walk. A long dress and a pair of thin flats. You would read stories to deer and bunnies that weren't too far off from you and you would sometimes just take your shoes off and stick your feet in the mud.

It was freeing. And it was all you needed.

You didn't mind going there by yourself as often as you did. It was nice.

But it was off putting when you heard a voice for the first time.

"Can I ask why we're all the way out here?" A deep, yet smooth voice said.

You quickly hid behind a rock. You weren't used to hearing anyone out here, so you were definitely scared.

"Oh, come now, my boy," a raspier voice chuckled. "I like visiting the world down here every now and again! It's not like anyone's going to be out here!"

And right as the man thought that, your dumbass stepped on a stick that made a loud ass sound. Great.

"What was that?" The raspy voice said.

"I don't know," the smoother voice said, his tone slow and soft. "Let me go check it out. Stay here."

Your heart dropped and you panicked a bit. What were you supposed to do? You spent so much time thinking that you didn't move an inch, so a head peeked out from the rock.

You and him both seemed to be in shock as your eyes went wide as you looked at each other.

You stood up from your spot and muttered something that was supposed to be an apology, but more sounded like a bundle of words. You were blushing, dammit.

The man in front of you was handsome. Super handsome. He had jet black hair and bright red eyes. He was wearing a black tuxedo and you couldn't help but stare at him.

He did the same though, without your knowing. You in your dress, god, you looked like a fairy out here.

You both must've realized that you were staring for far too long and you both blushed, looking at the ground.

"I apologize, miss," the man bowed at you and looked back up at you with a small smile. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I didn't mean to scare you." You peeked out from behind the rock and saw that an old man was admiring a butterfly.

"You're beautiful... if you don't mind me saying."

You turned back to the man with shock. "W-Well, you're very handsome."

"Well, I don't want to doddle. I apologize for the scare," he pulled up you hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon your knuckles. "I do hope you have a lovely rest of your day, though."

You were sad to feel his touch leave, sighing. "Wait!" You called off as he went to walk back to the old man.

The man turned to you, his hair blowing in the light breeze that blew over. "Yes?"

"I never caught your name."

He hesitated for a moment, but smiled. "It's Hermes."

You froze and watched him leave. Oh my god, that was like a dream.

"What was that all about?" Zeus asked Hermes.

"Oh nothing. But love is a funny thing, don't you think, Lord Zeus?"

"Aphrodite can be an awful woman."

Hermes chuckled. "I suppose she can be."

~~~~~

ror masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[aevallare]

hi i don't know if this is too late but i just saw it and for the fic asks i would looooove to know 29, 76 (for kindred) and 77 (for gossamer) <333

it IS late, but i love to talk about myself :)

29. What’s your revision or editing process like?

imagine editing

i do a lot of it as i go. very much write a paragraph, edit, write another, etc. but when i'm writing fic, i don't edit too much. it's my day job. this is supposed to be my hobby. i don't want it to be work even though i do work hard.

76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [Fanfic Name]? 

oh, tons lmao. the kindred dump doc is almost 50k words. highlights include:

Cazador was the vampire who killed Auri's mom

Auri eats brains to feed Polly, who otherwise would have no choice but to eat Auri's brain matter

Amar joins the gang in the Crimson Palace

Auri's mom is one of the souls trapped in the House of Hope

Halsin and Viv sleep with the drow twins

77. Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from [Fanfic Name] story/chapter? 

oh far and away the scene where 38 asks astarion to kneel.

“And what would my most faithful servant ask of her master?” 38 raises an eyebrow. And she always does like to see just what he’ll let her get away with. “I do wonder what the great Vampire Ascendant looks like on his knees.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief; she expects him to refuse. 38’s leg is still slung up over the armrest of the throne he’d eviscerate anyone else for touching. He would refuse anyone else. But she’s not anyone else. 38 is the one he signed a contract with. She’s not his equal– But she’s the only person that even comes close.

[wolveria]

you are amazing!!!! I have reread your caesar fics more times than I should morally have lmao but whatevs its addicting! its so hard to find such quality well written works that are structured in such a way that you envision not just the story being told but the world it's placed in as well and finding this in smut fics is even rarer. also you write caesar so in character that it really feels like its him being projected in the fic. anywhos blessed author I just wanted to praise you and really hope you put out your other caesar story because I love slow burn! and I will read it tons of times! sending good vibes your way have a great day<333

You are so so incredibly sweet <333 Seriously, this made me so happy to read.

I've been very motivated to continue my Caesar/OC story. From what I'm hearing about the new PotA movie, the ape/human romance gospel is spreading.

Never did I imagine my 1997 crush on Cornelius from the original Planet of the Apes would lead me to this.

[raeii-of-sunshine]

Infodump about Will, please?

OMG ANON U HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY U JUST MADE ME. I PROMISE U MY FIRSTBORN FOR THIS GREAT OPPORTUNITY

okok so first of all he’s a gemini (05/31/1994) which is crazy cuz i don’t think this man is capable of wearing a mask. he wears everything right on his face even if he’s not yapping about it. not very gemini of him tbh

SECOND also getting basic info out of the way he’s puerto rican and he has a lot of tattoos to pay homage to his heritage!! including the frog (a coqui) and hibiscus (amapola) tattoo on his neck, as well as i BELIEVE the aztec-style mural on his back!!!!

before he got into harder music like lamb of god, white chapel, etc, he listened to pretty tame rock like AC/DC. he actually played the guitar and the saxophone! he was in band in hs!! fun fact, his parents were NOT excited about him going from his “normal person music” to deathcore and other metal genres. one time when he was first learning how to scream (in the shower), his mom knocked on the door to ask if he was okay lmaooo. nowadays they’re all very proud of him tho!!

he has a tattoo of a goblin with his curly pink hair and gauges on one of his legs, eating ramen out of a skull bc he fuckin LOVES ramen. he’s also really big into anime and manga

he appeared several times on the youtube channel “the charismatic voice” to discuss his and other people’s vocal techniques, AS WELL AS letting them put a camera up his nose and down his throat to record him while he did all of his insane vocal techniques!! ANDDDD also did another video with them where they put needles in his neck to get an even more accurate recording of everything!! i couldn’t watch that one bc i can’t do needles ‘:D but it was probably pretty fuckin cool.

he is a really big fan of opera and is friends with one of the people from the charismatic voice named elizabeth, who is a vocal specialist and (used to be(?)) an opera singer. he made a whole video reacting to one of her very old opera performances and said that he really likes opera bc it’s like deathcore in the sense that there are SOOOO many vocal techniques used in every performance, much like the best deathcore vocalists out there !

elizabeth said in the putting-a-camera-down-his-throat video that one of the first things that she noticed about him when they met in the airport was that his hair was super animated and kinda flips around on his head like it’s got a personality of its own!!

example:: (him playing ping pong with elizabeth)

getting back into music, he’s said that he actually doesn’t listen to a ton of deathcore or metal music anymore, he’s more of an indie guy!! if he wasn’t in a deathcore band, he’d apparently be making indie music. and one of the main reasons he doesn’t listen to a lot of metal is so that any ideas for songs that he comes up with won’t be accidentally pulling from other songs so they’re more original. he also doesn’t usually try to force lyrics out of himself, he just kind of writes down things whenever he thinks of them (and it works quite well!!)

his first gig was in an old vaulted church building in new jersey (BECAUSE OF COURSE THIS MAN IF FROM NEW JERSEY) that no longer hosts gigs, and the acoustics were TERRIBLE bc of all the reverb from the vaulted ceilings. his first gig was fucking NERVE WRECKING but nowadays after the first couple of days of tour the pre-show jitters just go away??

ALSO he brings tea and an entire tea set to every venue!! and says shit like and i quote, “where am i gonna set up my tea party today?” he’s VERY serious about his vocal care! he drinks his tea, he has a bunch of fancy serums and other vocal products, and has a handheld nebulizer that he swears up and down by. <333 better self care routine than any of us out here tbh

he’s apparently always late to rehearsal lol. and he’s a cat person!! he’s literally so perfect <3

that is all that i have rn!! thank you so much anon you seriously made my fuckin day!!!!

[inkykeiji]

seeing izana with his curly fluffy hair nearly put me in the hospital he’s so cute

[ringosmistress]

DAILY!!! REMINDER!!!!

i feel like these daily reminders are becoming a tradition of ours and that's actually everything to me :')

anywho i have come here to remind you of something of GREAT importance‼️ i love and cherish and appreciate you so sO MUCH and i NEED you to know that <333

you can't comprehend how much you mean to me my heart is overflowing with love and adoration for you ๑>◡<๑

i hope you have an incredible day because you deserve nothing less <33

I hope everyone in the life finds someone as kind, and with a personality like yours, as you. BUT I DON'T HAVE TO SETTLE FOR LESS BECAUSE I HAVE REAL DEAL RIGHT HERE!! 🤭❤️

I must say I love your asks and tags and I seem to be out of words now, because you've used them ALL. And now I can't even come up with something better to say, because you always beat me to it :( (not complaining 😍)

I hope you have good dreams at night (about me I hope) and may you see tons of cats today to cheer you up!! (Because I know they do to me!!)

(˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) (you & me right here)

[knoxoverstreet16]

I'm wishing you the happiest of birthdays!!! 🥳🥳🎂🎈🎁 🌿☀️ May you have a wonderful day full of joy, lovely memories and great moments with your family and friends and a fantastic and healthy year ahead, with fulfilled dreams and tons of fun! 🎉💚 Sending you many hugs and only good wishes! Hope you'll have nice weather and tasty cake! 🎂🫂

Oh my goodness, thank you so much Clara this is so lovely!! 🫶 I'm so glad to have amazing friends like you on here <333

[crushingcasanova]

HELLO HELLO HELLO THERE BEAUTIFUL !! hehe im baaaackkk .. rehearsals over <333 i can finally be on tumblr jeez .. my school wifi is teeerrible :,) ive been thinkin about you !! i hope your day was wonderful , and that no one gave you any trouble .. if they did , they’ll have a bone to pick with me Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) anyways …

i was wondering , what are your favorite musicals ?? i have a lot considering musical theatre is my biggest interest ever and i actually could go on for hours talking about it .. my number 1 would have to be tied with legally blonde the musical and epic …. omg omg omg i kid you not, i have been on the epic train for 4 years .. BEFORE jorge got famous heh heh .. >:) but seriously i love both shows so much , mention one around me i go ballistic (especially legally blonde it is such a favorite of mine) but i know and absolutely adore MANY MORE…

also , you and your beloveds are so freakin cute ffhshshddhshddjd i love reading your and their posts .. :3 (i am not a stalker la la la la)

UHM ANYWAYS … i just really appreciate you , hope you’ve been havin a wonderful day .. uh that it hehe

-🎭

I so get that, my school wifi was terrible too ... I was gonna answer this after my opening night last night but it never let me send stuff. SIGH. My day was good though! I had my first real show and people adored it, actually. I had a ton of people come up to me after and tell me I did well! It was so much fun, and we all went out to eat after, which was just awesome :D How was your day? I hope rehearsal went okay! Musical theater is a big interest for me too! I mean, 12 years of theater has to get you somewhere, haha. I really love Phantom of the Opera, The Great Gatsby, Newsies, and a bunch of other shows like Beetlejuice, Spamalot, Spongebob the Musical, Anastasia, Be More Chill, Heathers... I like a lot! Legally blonde is SOO good, what an awesome choice! And I've heard a lot about epic but I've never gotten into it, but it seems very fun! I really ought to, since I love that form of mythology, but I simply haven't had the time... what other ones do you like? I'd love to hear! I've been in productions of quite a few (like Anastasia, Newsies, and Heathers) so I'd love to discuss stuff about some of the shows if you happen to like any more :D Thanks for considering our dynamics cute <33 I pride myself on how much I show off my loves, so it means a lot to me! (I don't mind you stalking, hehe) I hope you have a wonderful day :) !!

[magical-girl-topic]

Possible most hated magical girl anime

Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt is a magical girl anime which many people have had a problem with the past couple of years. I'm not really on either side of the argument about this anime, but I would like to talk about it on here. <3 Both sides have great points, and I would really like to share it with you guys. Thanks for the support recently :3 I'll get on w/ it now.

Ever since its come out, I've heard a lot of mixed opinions on PASWG, and I can see why. I watched this anime in early 2020, due to getting A TON of cosplays of these two angel sisters on my tiktok fyp. x3

To get it out of the way, personally I do really like this anime, I think its very funny, the character design is awesome! And overall, its just fun to watch. I understand why so many people have a problem with it though

The first problem I've noticed, was racism.

One of the biggest controversies paswg has had with the magical girl, and overall just anime community, has been their many racist character designs. While this was made in the early 2010's (2012 to be exact), and it is based off of popular adult animation at the time, like South Park, and Family Guy, which also has had some very offensive characters in it, it doesn't really change the fact that the designs we're racist, and very offensive to a lot of viewers.

In PASWG, they used a lot of racist stereotypes against POC for their designs, a lot of people have only recently spoke out about this, and the anime, and fandom, has gotten a lot of backlash.

(When I say recently, I don't mean too recent, I'm kinda late on this subject, but I do still see a lot of people talking about it to this day. When I mainly started seeing people speaking out about this, it was late 2020- early 2021)

While that is obviously a problem for the anime, it's not completely bad, I mean don't get me wrong, the anime isn't the greatest, but personally, I don't think it deserves too much hate.

I think the artwork is incredible, the animation style and just the way everything moves is insanely gorgeous, the colors chosen for every single scene is pure eye candy.

There's loads of references in every episode, it has me so focused on every little thing to find every little easter egg possible its insane. xD Their pet, chuck, himself is an entire reference to Gir from invader zim. I've found a list of every reference in each episode, which I'll link here if you wanna look.

You should check that out its pretty cool <333

I'm not going to go full in depth of every problem and every plus there is to this anime because loads of people have done that, and I'm just writing this for fun and because it's what I enjoy. There's loads of other blogs and articles on paswg, which if this was of any interest to you, I advise looking into it <333

PASWG is a super cool, but pretty strange anime, and if you've got the time and wanna check it out yourself, theres only 14 episodes, so you totally should and let me know your opinion on paswg! <3 (And I'd love to hear urs if you've already watched it!! :-))

Thank you for reading this blog, it means a lot. :33 I love u guys sm, thx 4 the support, be ready 4 some more blogs and I'll cya soon! xoxo bye bye!

[cinnabonn12]

୨୧ Intro:

Disclaimer: I post way too much very regularly. This is because I currently have no life and enjoy escapism!! How exciting. Welcome other chronically online citizens :)

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧ ⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

[Im copying my friends format for this bc she’s seems like she knows what she’s doing lol. I mean if ur interested you can read further, but like, it’s up to you lmao]

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• So I’m in a lot of fandoms—sadly Im not an artist, but and I will gladly talk to anyone abt any of these in these if u would like :)

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Fandoms:

୨୧┇A ton of anime I watched in 2020-22

Hunter X Hunter • Death Note • Yuri On Ice • Sk8 the Infinity • My Hero Academia • Attack on Titan • Demon Slayer • Saiki K • Ouran High School Host Club • Given • Jujutsu Kaisen • Black Butler • Banana Fish • Violet Evergarden • Haikyuu • and a few more random obscure ones :)

୨୧┇MCU (Loki)

୨୧┇SuperWhoLock (lol)

୨୧┇Hannibal

୨୧┇Good Omens (Crowley)

୨୧┇Our Flag Means Death

୨୧┇The Arcana

୨୧┇Gravity Falls (Bill Cipher)

୨୧┇The Owl House

୨୧┇MXTX (TGCF, MDZS, & SVSSS)

୨୧┇GHOST :333

୨୧┇WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE (Cecil 💜)

୨୧┇Marauders

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*I’m too lazy to put gifs in here like most ppl do so pretend there r pretty little gifs throughout that align w whatever my aesthetic is (idk)

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Music:

*Also smt I post abt way too much

My main playlist if u like :)

୨୧┇Artists (in no particular order)

Ghost • The Sukis • Incubus • Interpol • The Smiths • The Cure • Depeche Mode • Mother Mother • Devin Townsend • Cigarettes After Sex • Linkin Park • Green Day • Smashing Pumpkins • Radiohead • Bo Burnham • Jack Stauber •The Beatles • The Police • America • Bring Me The Horizon • Atreyu • Drab Majesty • Beach House • and more I probably forgot

୨୧┇ Genres

I mean I’ll listen to whatever but I have my preferences—aka indie rock • dream pop • shoegaze • dark wave • new wave • gothic techno • prog/alt/folk/classic rock • symphonic/alt/prog metal • and theatre/broadway

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Imaginary pretty gif here ~

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Broadway Stuff:

• Les Miserables • Hamilton • Wicked • Phantom of The Opera • Hairspray • Cabaret • Harry Potter and The Cursed Child • Dear Evan Hansen • Come From Away • The Play That Goes Wrong • Beetlejuice • Six • My Fair Lady • Legally Blonde • Mean Girls • Hadestown • Little Shop of Horrors • Mamma Mia • The Great Comet of 1812 • Sweeney Todd • Back to the Future • The Notebook • The Great Gatsby, and more bc it would take too long to list them all

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make-believe pretty gif ~

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Closing:

• Im also into photography, writing (fanfic), and a sport I don’t want to talk about unless I do lol. So yeah!! Well that’s a hell of a lot of info.

• Omg I love oversharing!! If you read it, I’m concerned for you bc that was not attention grabbing at all and ur probably stalking me which as an internet stalker like myself yk what? Go for it bro.

(PS: sometimes I loose my grip on my sanity and it shows…so uh keep that in mind? Idk I feel like that needed a mention considering how I am)