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#in such a pleasant proud way
fiona-fififi · 2 months
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chelstory · 1 year
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Saw paramore live for the first time ever a few nights ago and I had the time of my LIFEEEEE
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thelesserdessert · 1 year
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The first chapter of my Drarry fic is posted!! Yippee! Here's the 'summary':
The trio exchanged glances, eyes wide. “Kreacher.” Harry breathed. The three of them immediately scrambled towards the sound. As they approached the kitchen the boy who Kreacher had kidnapped was cursing and kicking things. “Get off of me you filthy vermin!” and “Know your place!” Harry thought the voice sounded vaguely familiar, but ignored the prickling on his spine at the sound and pressed forward. Harry, who was at the front of the group, swung open the kitchen door and locked eyes with familiar icy grey eyes. Overwhelmed with shock Harry muttered “Malfoy?”
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kuromi-hoemie · 10 months
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heh i got a matching moonstone piece for my medusa 2 match my labret ૮ – ﻌ–ა good moonstone is so hard to find online !! i emailed the parlor i bought it from and as soon as they told me they had one in the shop i came thru immediately !! i like the bigger sized stuff :3c
they were so sweet to me too (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠) i just came in 2 buy jewelry real quick but got to talk to everyone who works there n said what's up 2 my piercer, got a lil gift bag to take home with me. one of them ran down the street for me bc they thought i dropped some jewelry but it wasn't mine 😹 thanks for running over for me though 🥺 heheh i can tell that person in particular thinks I'm cute they're sooo nicey to me when i come in 🙈 i see u ♡⁠
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tinta--branca--art · 1 year
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More art fight !! And more PoE because my love for it endures
This is @draw-you-coward's Watcher Rake having a Time™ with Berath
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kimbapisnotsushi · 2 years
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everyone give it up for my man hyakuzawa yuudai. nothing happened but i still can't fucking believe HE MADE IT ONTO JAPAN'S NATIONAL VOLLEYBALL TEAM
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nerves-nebula · 2 years
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its SOO funny to me that as an antisocial child I was always frustrated by small talk and would make jokes like "how could anyone ever think talking about the weather is a good conversational opener that's sooo boring" <- and i still kinda do this sometimes but
I just met with an editor over zoom and literally the FIRST thing we talked about was how hectic school is and how the weather has been weird lately cause its HOt and then it RAINs and then its HOT AND RAINY and it was just like. pleasant.
like wow my social skills are really getting better huh.
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dutybcrne · 5 months
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From a very young age, Kaeya held such a fondness for handholding. Whether it was his father clinging tightly to him to make sure he didn’t get lost, Adelinde’s gentle, grounding hand closed over his to comfort him whenever his nerves got the better of him, Crepus’s rough-palmed, firm yet comforting grip as he brought him back home, or, as it was most often of all, Diluc’s warm, yet at times uncomfortably tight hold as he dragged him anywhere, everywhere, determined to always keep Kaeya close and eagerly show him all there was to see, Kaeya treasured the gesture greatly.
Of course, being as shy as he was, initiating it himself was always the harder part. So much so, he would tend to hold pinkies, rather than outright take a person’s hand in his own. Eventually, it would become his most common way to go about the gesture of affection.
#hc; kaeya#//Handholding is one of his favorite ways of affection bc 1) it’s not too overwhelming when it comes to his touch aversion#//The sensation is all focused in one spot; and even then; it’s more grounding than uncomfortable bc of how firm people’s grasp tends to be#//He really took to holding pinkies bc he realized he could ‘test’ people that way#//If it was a bother to them; they wouldn’t blink twice before moving their hand from his hold. so rejection isn’t as BIG; more subtle#//And if they Liked it; they could either accept it as is or make him happier and take firmer hold of his hand#//Once he was more confident; he would go straight to more outright handholding. Klee ofc got that RIGHT from the getgo. Bc she is smol &#liked him from the start. Even if her Pyro energy did make him uncomfortable at first; but he got used to it. for her#//Luc made it easy to go right to it to—the kid would always seem to know when he wanted to hold hands for whatever reason and grabbed hold#before Kae could link pinkies. kae did like the fact that Luc would Pout the few times Kae did link pinkies instead of hold hands#//Pout; & snatch his hand firmly in his like ‘Why did you do that? THIS way’s better’. Love the image of bby!Kae grabbing bby!Luc’s sleeves#but lbr; they deffo held hands a lot as kiddos. Bc we all know just how (canonically) indulging Luc is with whatever Kae wants. Once Luc#//figured him out; it was a Very common sight; seeing Luc tromping around like the proud lil protector he was; & Kae scurrying after him#//Lil subtle delighted gleams in his eye compared to Luc’s more overt confidence and joy. So common a sight; it was no surprise that#Kae was Deffo distressed when Luc inevitably grew out of it. Adjusted; yeah; but the sudden Change was deffo NOT good for his nerves#//Clung to Addie a lot to make up for it; until he heard the maids tittering abt how childish he was being#//He quit that FAST; finding other ways to stave off his nerves and show his affection#//Sometimes when he’s drunk at Angel’s Share; he gets tempted to hold Luc’s hand—an old habit dredged back up bc he wants comfort#//But any sudden moves Luc makes; whether bc he noticed Kae reaching out or not; utterly scare the urge away every time#//He’s made his peace with Luc resenting him; but it still stings that the ONE person he felt closest to is now practically a Chasm away#//Not like he helps any with that; running away or lashing out every time Luc tries to bridge gaps or shows concern#//Sends him into fight or flight mode every time—who’s to say Kae won’t fuck it up and make a Luc regret trying?#//Might as well sabotage it all himself—at least THEN he knows with utmost certainty it will end failure. Whoops veered off topic#//The closer he is to someone; the more likely he ends up toying with their hands a bit—esp if Interested in them#//Likes playing with their fingers; linking; unlinking and slotting them together; tracing lines on their palms#//Cute shit like that. He likes seeing how they fit together; the differences in size and how they feel#//This was all bc I saw a detail from a show pointed out on the Twitter ndnfn. And thought the pinkie thing was SO cute. Anywho#//Hi. Shit happened irl & I am still not 100%. Not saying what bc it’s not a pleasant topic; but know I am ok#//Just a lil tired. But kinda wanna hcs for rn. I had a lil burst of energy earlier today. that was nice. Over a long dead show; no less#//But it helped lift my mood a bit. I still kinda wish I could drink rn tho. Think it’d help my brain rn
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SOME- S-
a ffriend. of mine who has not read the books said that they could imagine skug making the minecraft skeleton. jangle thing noise and sO MANY SCENES CAN BE MADE SO MUCH WORSW /pos BY THIS skug being tortured? JANGLE skug putting himself back together? JANGLE skug being a snarky bitch? JANGLE skug flirting with everyone and everything that one time? JANGLE skug beating the shit out of someone? JANGLE skug mourning the death of one of his friends or his family?
MOTHER. FUCKING. JANGLE.
I HAVE BEEN CACKLING FOR THE PAST FIVE MINUTES PLEASE HELP
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melonpond · 2 years
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I FINALLY CLEANED MY ROOM I FEEL SO ACCOMPLISHED
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inbabylontheywept · 28 days
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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.
adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.
right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.
it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.
still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.
i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.
i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.
so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.
coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."
and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.
still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.
i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.
so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went
...oh.
and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.
so i did.
i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.
i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.
it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:
*ptooie.* "that all you got?"
i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!
but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.
my coach did not.
i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.
"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"
and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said
"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."
which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.
and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.
fine.
but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.
and then he left.
and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."
but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.
and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.
he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.
and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.
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fvsm4x · 10 months
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#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru] part II
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SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.
— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , Geto Suguru x female reader , dark themes , no happy ending w gojo , no curses au.
— WORD COUNT: 5.1k+
— A/N: I was supposed to finish this next week but- oh well..I hope you like it.
PREV | NEXT
read part I for better understanding
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It has been several months since your breakup with Gojo, and you find yourself still living with Geto. Despite the change in your relationship status, your bad habits are still there. However, there is a silver lining to this situation - you no longer struggle as much as you have, because you no longer have the burden of paying the bills due time.
At first, you felt guilty about letting Geto pay the financial responsibility alone. You insisted on contributing your fair share. However, Geto, being the persuasive individual he is, somehow managed to convince you otherwise. He made a compelling argument, suggesting that it would be wiser for you to save up the money you earn through your work. By doing so, you would have the means to purchase necessary items for yourself in the future.
But in return geto wanted you to go grocery shopping and cook meals for him. It became a daily routine for you to venture out and purchase the necessary ingredients. Despite the repetitive nature of this task, you never complained. After all, Geto had provided you with a roof over your head and so much more. It was your way of expressing gratitude and repaying him for his generosity.
Living with Geto turned out to be a pleasant experience. He was not only caring but also incredibly kind. Whenever you found yourself in the midst of a mental breakdown, he was there to offer support. His comforting presence was like a soothing balm for your troubled mind. He would hold you close, whispering words of reassurance and understanding into your ear, doing whatever it took to make you feel okay again.
One incident that truly showcased Geto's empathy and understanding was when you were cutting yourself in the bathroom. Instead of scolding you or telling you to stop, he patiently waited behind the closed door until you had calmed down. Only then would he enter, carefully addressing your wounds with a gentle touch. It was evident that he understood the pain of depression and the toll it took on one's well-being.
After all - he had once also experienced depression.
Today, as usual, you found yourself needing to go shopping for fresh ingredients. With a shopping bag in hand, you left the room and made your way to the door that led outside.
Before stepping out, you reached for the jacket hanging near the door. It was Geto's jacket. Although you had your own jacket, Geto insisted that you wear his to protect yourself from the cold. It was that time of year when snowflakes gracefully fell from the sky and the air had a biting chill to it.
At first, Geto had wanted to buy you a new jacket, but you kindly declined, not wanting him to spend any more money on you. Instead, he offered you the option of wearing his jacket.
And so, you found yourself slipping into his jacket, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort as you prepared to face the wintry weather outside.
You stepped outside, and were greeted by a winter wonderland. The world around you was transformed into a picturesque scene straight out of a postcard. The ground was blanketed in a pristine layer of snow, untouched by footprints. The trees stood tall and proud, their branches adorned with delicate icicles that shimmered in the soft sunlight. The air was crisp and invigorating, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the promise of a magical day ahead.
As you made your way through the snowy landscape, you couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty that surrounded you. The snowflakes gently fell from the sky, dancing and twirling as they made their descent, creating a mesmerizing spectacle. Each flake was unique, with intricate patterns and delicate edges that seemed to defy the laws of nature.
The sound of your footsteps crunching in the snow echoed through the stillness, breaking the silence and adding a touch of life to the serene atmosphere. The cold air nipped at your cheeks.
The sight of children building snowmen and families engaged in friendly snowball fights filled your heart with a bittersweet mix of joy and longing. The laughter and playful shouts echoed through the air, creating an atmosphere of pure happiness. It reminded you of the times you had dreamt of a future with gojo, imagining what it would be like to have children of your own, to experience these simple joys as a family.
But reality hit you hard, like a cold gust of wind cutting through your thoughts. Gojo had moved on, finding happiness with someone else. It was a painful truth that you had to accept, even though it still stung deep within. The image of Gojo laughing and playing in the snow with that girl flashed in your mind, a reminder that he had chosen a different path, a different future.
You took a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts that threatened to dampen your spirits.
„Y/n?“ a voice spoke from behind. Your eyes widened as you saw him standing there, your ex, with his signature white hair, piercing sky blue eyes, and tall frame. It was Gojo, the person who had once held your heart in his hands.
He stood before you, his gaze scanning your form before settling on your face. The intensity of his stare made you feel both nervous and vulnerable. You instinctively took a step back, creating a physical distance between you. Gojo noticed your retreat and froze, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher your reaction. Your slightly closed eyes and the way you avoided his gaze spoke volumes, revealing the pain and longing that still lingered within you.
“Gojo…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nervously fidgeted with the collar of your jacket. The mention of his name caused Gojo’s eyes to drop, a mixture of guilt and regret washing over his features. He had always been used to being called by his first name, but hearing his last name from your lips felt like a painful reminder of the distance that now existed between you.
“How are you?” he asked, attempting to regain eye contact with you.
“I’m okay… I guess,” you replied, finally meeting his gaze. Gojo took a step forward, closing the physical gap between you. His hand gently rested on both of your shoulders, sending a wave of shivers down your spine. The touch was both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions within you. You felt nervous, almost scared, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected encounter.
“Listen, I’m sorry for… you know… that we fired you from work. It was really not my intention,” Gojo apologized. You interrupted him, trying to downplay the significance of his actions.
“It’s fine, I forgive you,” you said, your voice lacking conviction. You tried your best to ignore the warmth of his hands on your shoulders, focusing on maintaining your composure. Gojo’s eyes widened as he observed your dropped gaze, uncertain if you were truly okay with what had transpired.
“What?” he asked again, his fingers tightening around your shoulders. That’s when he noticed your jacket, a sense of familiarity washing over him. His fingers instinctively moved to the back of your neck, pulling down the collar to read the name written there.
Geto Suguru.
His best friend’s name was emblazoned on the collar of the jacket you were wearing. It suddenly dawned on him that this was not your jacket, but Geto’s. The scent of Geto’s cologne lingered faintly, intertwining with your own. Gojo’s eyebrows furrowed as a whirlwind of thoughts flooded his mind. Was this some sort of revenge? Did you pursue Geto to get back at him, to gain his attention? How did Geto even know about your breakup, despite Gojo never mentioning it to him?
He never expected you to move on so quickly. He knew you had your fair share of struggles, and he had always been the one to bring light into your life. He had believed that you would do anything for him. But the realization that you had seemingly moved on so swiftly ignited a pang of jealousy within him. He had a girlfriend now, he shouldn’t feel this way. His girlfriend was better for him than you, but the sight of you wearing Geto’s jacket still managed to stir something deep within him.
The way you shivered under his touch made him quickly withdraw his hands. “I said it’s okay, I forgive you,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.
“So, you and Suguru?” he asked, ignoring your response. You raised an eyebrow, ready to answer his question, but before you could speak, your phone began to ring. You quickly retrieved it from your pocket, glancing at the caller ID.
Suguru.
Gojo awkwardly stood there, his gaze shifting between you and the phone in your hand. He couldn’t help but notice that the phone you were holding was different from the one he had once bought you. The mark on the phone indicated that it was a cheaper model, a flip phone, unlike the expensive one he had gifted you. Confusion washed over him as he wondered why you would exchange a high-end phone for a cheaper alternative.
Little did he know that you had sold the phone he had given you out of necessity. You had run out of money and needed to pay the bills for the motel you were staying in. Desperate times had forced you to part with the precious gift, opting for a more affordable option.
After answering the call, you quickly excused yourself, explaining that you needed to go buy groceries. However, before you could make your way out, Gojo reached out and gently grabbed your arm, in which you hissed.
"Wait," he said, "Are you and Suguru dating?" His question hung in the air, his eyes searching yours for any hint of confirmation or denial.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the situation. "No, Gojo," you replied, your voice soft but firm. "I just live with him. We're roommates."
Gojo's grip on your arm loosened slightly, his expression shifting from confusion to relief. The relief was evident in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
"I see," he said, "I'm glad to hear that." There was a brief pause between the two of you as you tried to progress what he just said.
Why would Gojo be glad to hear that you and Geto weren't dating? As you tried to process his reaction, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, extending it towards you.
"Uh, since you live with Suguru, it must be bothersome for you," he stammered, struggling to find the right words. "Take this apartment key. It's for you, as an apology for getting you fired."
You hesitated, unsure of what to do. You didn't want anything from Gojo, especially not as a form of apology. "I'm fine being with Suguru. I don't need this key," you replied, pressing it back into his chest. You turned around, ready to walk away and put this painful encounter behind you.
But before you could take another step, Gojo's voice called out, desperation lacing his words. "Wait, please take it!" His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, causing you to flinch. The pain from the cuts on your arms intensified, and tears welled up in your eyes.
You quickly shrugged off his hand, wanting to escape the physical pain. As you looked up at Gojo, you saw his eyes downcast, filled with remorse. It hurt to see him like this, knowing that you still hadn't fully moved on from him. You wanted him to be happy, to see him smile, but it seemed like that was a distant dream.
"Okay, I'll take it. Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You reached out and took the key from his hand. With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, determined to focus on the task at hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy groceries."
"Right, uh... have a good day, Y/n!" Gojo called after you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked away,
"Suguru, I'm home," you called out, stepping into his house and slipping off your shoes and jacket. The familiar scent of Suguru's home enveloped you as you made your way to the living room, where Geto was lounging on the sofa, engrossed in a TV show.
"Welcome back," he greeted, turning his head to meet your gaze with a warm smile.
"I have some news," you announced, making your way to the kitchen to unload the groceries. Geto followed you, his curiosity piqued, and settled on a chair at the kitchen island, facing you.
As you began to unpack the grocery bag, placing items into the fridge, you tossed a bag of chips to Geto. He caught it effortlessly, his eyes lighting up with gratitude as he opened the bag and popped a chip into his mouth.
"So, what's the news?" he asked, his voice muffled by the chips.
"Well," you started, carefully choosing your words, "I found an apartment." You decided not to mention that it was Gojo who had bought it for you. The thought of Gojo's gesture still stirred up conflicting emotions within you.
Geto's eyebrows raised,"Where is it?"
You continued to organize the groceries, avoiding eye contact as you replied, "It's not too far from here, and it‘s quite big too, so if you want you can move in with me. You know, it‘s really nice to finally have someone who cares for me other than satoru.." you trailed off.
You mustered the courage to look back at Geto's face, and your heart skipped a beat at the wide-open eyes staring back at you. "You want me to move in with you...?" he asked,
"Yeah... I'm afraid I got attached to you... sorry," you muttered, your hands finding their way onto the counter as you looked down, unable to meet his gaze.
Geto was taken aback by your confession. He had always known about your deep love for Satoru, as you would often seek solace in his room after a nightmare, finding comfort in his presence. In those vulnerable moments, you would whisper Satoru's name as you fell asleep, leaving Geto to silently bear the weight of unrequited love.
From the moment he first laid eyes on you, fate seemed to have decided that he would fall in love with you. But to his surprise, you were already dating his best friend when you first crossed paths. He had initially dismissed you as one of Satoru's chicks, assuming that you would be discarded after a short while. But it turned out that your relationship with Satoru was serious, and his heart couldn't help but ache with jealousy.
He couldn't help but steal glances at the way you looked at Satoru, the admiration in your eyes and the way your lips curved into a smile whenever he was around. It made him envious, but he knew he had no right to feel that way towards his best friend. So he buried his own feelings and pretended to like you only as a friend, even though his heart yearned for more.
As time went on, Geto began to notice a change in Satoru's behavior. The manwhore tendencies he had abandoned when you and he started dating seemed to resurface. It was as if he had grown tired of the commitment and started seeking the attention of other women right in front of Geto's eyes.
The pain of witnessing Satoru's infidelity gnawed at Geto's heart. He wanted to protect you, to tell you about Satoru's behaviour, but he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you with those words. He knew how deeply attached you were to Satoru, how you would forgive him for every transgression, even something as devastating as cheating. You simply couldn't let him go.
Until one day, the inevitable happened. The two of you broke up.
The news hit Geto like a punch to the gut. On one hand, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief that you were no longer tied to Satoru's unfaithfulness. But on the other hand, he knew that your heart would be shattered, and he couldn't bear the thought of seeing you in pain.
You stood there in the kitchen, glare dropped as you mentioned your ex‘s name. Geto's heart ached for you. He wanted to offer comfort, to hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay. But he knew that the wounds were fresh, and he would have to tread carefully, waiting for the right moment to reveal his own feelings.
For now, all he could do was be there for you, offering a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear.
„Sure..I can move in with you if that‘s what you would like.“ he spoke, forcing a smile.
Your eyes immediately lightened up as you heard his words,“really?“ you asked.
Geto nodded, his smile growing wider as he saw the genuine happiness radiating from your face. "Yes, really," he replied,“I want to be there for you, to support you and care for you in ways that Satoru couldn't."
A wave of gratitude washed over you as you realized the depth of Geto's commitment. It was a stark contrast to the fleeting affection you had experienced with Satoru. You had always yearned for someone who would truly see you, who would cherish and prioritize your happiness above all else. And now, standing before you, was Geto, offering you just that.
A mixture of emotions swirled within you - excitement, relief, and a tinge of sadness for the end of your relationship with Satoru. You took a step closer to Geto, your eyes locked with his, as you whispered, "Thank you. Thank you for being here for me."
Geto's smile softened,"You don't have to thank me," he replied gently.
-
No.
No.
No. No. No..
What is this?
This is not what Gojo expected when he entered his apartment after being away for a week. The first thing he heard were moans coming from his and his girlfriend's bedroom, and immediately he made his way there to investigate. What he saw was something he never could have imagined. His girlfriend, completely naked, was on top of someone else, riding them on their shared bed where they used to make love. It was a scene that shattered his heart and left him feeling betrayed.
She was cheating on him.
Gojo stood frozen by the door, his eyes wide with shock, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and his once joyful smile replaced by a look of pain.
As he looked at the girl who had been his girlfriend just moments ago, Gojo couldn't help but draw parallels between her and you. The guilt he had felt then was nothing compared to the remorse that now gnawed at his soul.
In that moment, he couldn't fully comprehend the impact of his actions, but now, as he stood in that bedroom, he felt the weight of his betrayal crashing down upon him.
Gojo's gaze shifted from his ex-girlfriend to the guy who had been underneath her. A surge of jealousy and insecurity coursed through him, as he couldn't help but compare himself to this unknown person. Who was he? What did he possess that Gojo lacked? The comparison was inevitable, and it only added fuel to the fire of pain that already consumed him. Doubts gnawed at his mind, questioning his worthiness and wondering if he had failed to measure up, if he had been inadequate in some way.
The room felt suffocating. Gojo's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the shattered love and trust that lay in ruins.
Gojo stormed into the bedroom, his anger and hurt fueling his every step. The force with which he swung the door open was a reflection of the turmoil raging within him, a physical manifestation of the chaos that had erupted in his life. His eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and fury, locked onto the figure lying beneath his now ex-girlfriend.
"Satoru, wait!" the girl cried out, her voice laced with panic and fear, as she was pushed away from the person beneath her. But Gojo was beyond reason, consumed by a maelstrom of emotions that drowned out any pleas for mercy.
Gojo lunged forward, his hand shooting out to seize a handful of her hair. The pain of his grip was a stark contrast to the tenderness he had once shown her, a cruel reminder of the power he held over her in that moment. Their eyes locked, and in that intense gaze, he saw her pupils constrict, a sign of both fear and resignation. Her lower lip quivered, a silent plea for him to release her from his grasp.
But Gojo was deaf to her pleas, his grip on her hair only tightening as she desperately tried to free herself. The sound of her voice, trembling with vulnerability, fell upon deaf ears as he murmured a single word, "Why..." His voice was filled with a mix of confusion and betrayal, unmoved by the smaller hands that desperately attempted to pry his hold loose.
And then, like a dagger to his heart, she uttered the words that shattered his world. "I'm sorry! I found someone else—I love him... please, let go!" Her voice trembled with a mixture of guilt and desperation, her words echoing in the air like a painful confession.
The weight of those words crashed into Gojo's consciousness like a tidal wave, the impact reverberating through his entire being. Found someone else...? The realization hit him with a force that stole the breath from his lungs. These were the same words he had once spoken to you, the words that had torn your world apart.
As if struck by lightning, Gojo released his grip on her hair, his hand falling limply to his side. He stepped back, his eyes filled with a mix of shock and disbelief. The girl, now free from his hold, collapsed onto the bed, her body crumpling under the weight of the emotional turmoil that had unfolded before her.
Was this the same anguish you had felt when he had confessed he had found someone else? Did he truly forsake someone as remarkable as you for this girl? The weight of his actions settled heavily upon his shoulders, a burden he could no longer ignore.
As he turned away from the girl and the person she had been with, Gojo's mind became a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs. Memories of your time together flashed before his eyes, each one a painful reminder of what he had lost. The pain of his own betrayal and the pain he had inflicted upon you mingled within him, creating a storm of guilt and remorse.
Gojo found himself in the living room, his body sinking into the couch as he attempted to make sense of it all. The weight of betrayal pressed upon him, threatening to crush him beneath its burden. It was as if his entire world had crumbled in an instant, leaving him feeling adrift and broken.
His mind was swirling with regrets and unanswered questions, he couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to mend what had been irreparably broken. Could he ever earn back your trust? Could he ever make amends for the pain he had caused? The questions plagued his thoughts, but the answers remained elusive.
With a heavy heart weighing him down, Gojo rose from the comfort of the couch and made his way towards the front door. The weight of his emotions pushed him to leave, to escape the haunting memories that seemed to linger within the walls of the apartment. His mind was consumed by a single thought - he needed to find you, to apologize before it was too late. Perhaps, just maybe, you would find it in your heart to forgive him.
However, little did Gojo know that time was not on his side. As he hurriedly made his way to the apartment he had given you, a place that was meant to be his girlfriend’s sanctuary, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that he had entrusted you with the key instead. The thought of seeing you again, of having the chance to make things right, gave him a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded him.
Arriving at the apartment, Gojo rushed up the stairs, his mind filled with a whirlwind of thoughts about what he would say when he finally saw you. His hand instinctively reached into his pocket, grasping onto the spare keys that he had kept for emergencies. With a mix of anticipation and anxiety, he approached the door that was supposed to lead him to you. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly and opening the door.
However, instead of being greeted by an empty room, Gojo found himself standing in the midst of a completely transformed space. The apartment had undergone a complete renovation, a stark contrast to the memories he had held onto. But amidst the unfamiliar surroundings, his eyes were drawn to something that instantly caught his attention - clothes scattered across the floor. A shirt, two pairs of pants, and a bra lay haphazardly, creating a puzzle that Gojo couldn’t help but try to piece together.
Confusion furrowed his brow as he pondered the presence of the bra on the floor. If there was no sound of moaning or clapping, then it meant that you didn’t have anyone over, right? But the pants… they were definitely not yours. They were too wide, too different from your usual style. Gojo’s gaze swept the room, searching for answers, before he made his way through the apartment, his steps guided by an unexplainable instinct.
He stopped in front of a closed door, hesitating for a moment before gently pushing it open, revealing a sight that shattered his heart into a million pieces. His eyes widened in disbelief as they landed on Geto, his best friend, lying in bed with you cradled in his arms. The sight of Geto’s upper body, partially exposed, showcased his muscular chest and abs, while your figure rested against him, your shoulders and neck adorned with small, telltale bruises. Both of you were fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the presence of another person standing by the door.
A mixture of shock, betrayal, and anger coursed through Gojo’s veins as he tried to comprehend what he was witnessing. Why was Geto here? He had always been aware of Geto’s secret crush on you, but he had never expected his best friend to make a move, especially not with you. The pain in Gojo’s heart intensified as he saw you, the person he believed to be his and his alone, in someone else’s arms, covered in another person’s kisses and bruises.
Gojo stood there, his heart heavy with disbelief and heartbreak. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. Was it too late? Was there no way to fix what he had done?
Suddenly, a voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. It was his best friend, looking at him with a mix of concern and frustration. Gojo's eyes met his, and he could see the unspoken question in them.
"You gonna continue staring or what?" his best friend asked, his tone slightly teasing.
Gojo's emotions surged, and he couldn't hold back the words any longer. "You did it on purpose, didn't you? You waited for the moment she was vulnerable so you could swoop in and be her hero. All in the hope of leading her into bed."
His fists clenched, and he wiped away the tears with the back of his sleeve. His best friend remained calm, his gaze steady. "I'm merely doing what you couldn't. I'm here for her, offering support and care in ways you never could, Satoru."
Gojo's anger flared, and he shouted, "What do you mean?!" But his best friend cut him off, his voice firm but gentle.
"Don't shout, she's had a tough night and deserves some rest," he said, covering you with a blanket.
"You act like you're some kind of savior. What gives you the right to step in and play hero in her life?"
His best friend sighed, meeting Gojo's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I'm doing it because she deserves genuine care and someone who will love her just the way she does."
Gojo's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "I love her just the way she does!"
"If you did," his best friend calmly replied, "you wouldn't have cheated on her multiple times and then left her for someone else."
The accusation hung heavily in the air, shattering any pretense of composure between the two friends. Gojo felt the weight of his best friend's words, realizing the depth of the hurt he had caused. The room seemed to echo with the fractured friendship and the complex emotions entangled in this unexpected confrontation.
"I never wanted things to turn out like this," Gojo confessed, his voice filled with regret. "What do you expect me to do now?"
His best friend's gaze hardened, his voice firm. "Face the consequences of your actions, Satoru. But understand this: she doesn't want anything to do with you now. Give up and let her find the happiness she deserves elsewhere."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Gojo struggled to find a response, a knot forming in his stomach. His best friend continued, his voice softer this time.
"She moved on, Satoru," he said, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and deception. "You broke her trust, and she's found someone who treats her with the respect and love she deserves. Don't complicate her life any further."
Gojo's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists as the realization hit him. The person beneath the blanket, blissfully unaware of the turmoil surrounding them, remained a symbol of the consequences of his actions.
"I messed up, I know that," Gojo admitted, his voice filled with remorse. "But I can't just give up on her."
His best friend's expression hardened. "Giving up isn't about abandoning her; it's about respecting her choices. She doesn't want you in her life anymore. Accept that and move forward."
"You had your chance, Satoru. Now it's time to let her go," his best friend said, his voice filled with finality.
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azullumi · 6 months
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"once more to see you" ; aventurine
summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet
note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.
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“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down. 
you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind. 
(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)
“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.
he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”
“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.
“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.
“i’m sure he will.”
silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so. 
aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.
you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two. 
“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.
the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.
“do what?”
“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.
“why do you think so?”
“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave. 
“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”
he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”
“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”
he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.
“i love you.”
“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed? 
you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”
you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”
“i don’t know.” he whispers.
“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.
the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.
for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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emmyrosee · 11 months
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Geto doesn’t know how to respond to pet names.
It took him a long enough time to become used to the traditional “baby” and “love,” it was just recently when you started busting out these absurd nicknames for whatever thing you could be subjecting him too.
You were cooking once, and you called him “scnhookums” and asked him to pass the peppers. He dropped the tray.
Driving, you told your “stinky man” to take a left. He slammed on his brakes.
You’d been painting his nails and got some on his cuticle, and you asked your “little poop” to pass you some acetone. He just took his hands away.
It’s not that he doesn’t… like them, they’re just not quite what he expects. They’re so extreme, so left field that in a way, he feels as if you’re mocking him, making fun of him.
He doesn’t like that feeling.
But what he hates even more, is when you pause on giving him disgustingly sweet pet names. This, makes him feel like you no longer care, no longer wanting to take the time to come up with the gushy names that keep him in a shy state.
And you haven’t given him one in days.
He hasn’t been able to sleep. Nothing major, nightmares plaguing the dreams he thinks should be pleasant, 
“Shhh,” you soothe. “Stay asleep. I’ve got you.”
He merely nods and lets his head bury back into the pillows, your lips press against his temple before he lets his breathing even out once again.
As if your kiss soothed the monsters that dance, he’s able to sleep a few more hours, waking up disgustingly late and pouting to find your side of the bed cold.
He’s not proud of the pout okay, you’re just really good at scratching the affectionate itch that digs his brain. all he wants is his ‘pooky bear’ to cuddle their little ‘chickadee’ and let him fall back asleep in their arms.
He’s sure those names aren’t far in your arsenal of names.
When he finally does come to search you out, he’s not completely surprised to see you, stretched out on the couch and in a state of relaxation he finds envy in.
“What’re you watching?” He asks, shuffling into the living room. You smile up at him and say nothing, but instead pat your lap as an invitation for him to come and curl against you.
With a nod, he does just that, letting himself lay down on the couch with you, his head nestled in your thighs. Your fingers instantly start their magic on carding his loose hair, and his eyes slack slightly at the tingly feeling.
“Feel better?” You ask, and he hums contently. “I told you more sleep would help. You just never listen to me.”
He says nothing, merely letting his fingers gently trace the lines on your kneecap.
There’s a whirl of silence in the room, and he feels his eyes grow tired from your loving touch, the post warmth of his shower, and the cat that’s curled on his feet, keeping them warm under her rhythmic breathing.
“My handsome man,” you mumble, bending down to plant a kiss at his temple. his eyes widen as he cranes his head up to look at you, curved in surprise and a glimmer of love in his dark pools. “So pretty it hurts… my handsome, pretty man.”
That. That, he could get used to.
He smiles dopily and turns his head to nuzzle into your thigh, trying to hide the heating of his cheeks from you and your potential teasing by keeping his face buried.
But you don’t pick on him. Instead, you click your tongue adoringly and press another kiss to his temple. He feels your nose taking deep breaths of his scent, and your thumb strokes his cheek lovingly.
“Shut up”, Suguru says happily, as an acceptance, letting his sleepy eyes close and allowing your affections to swallow him whole.
Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s the fluttery feeling everyone talks about. The air filling his lungs and his head skipping beats just by the tone of which you call him handsome.
You call him your man.
Maybe pet names don’t always have to be sticky and sweet; but it just makes the most meaningful ones penetrate his heart that much more.
And this pet name, he hopes you decide to keep.
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cloudwisp · 4 months
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𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
contents: fluff. established relationship. found family. megumi takes up baking and it takes you back to your teenage years when a certain white-haired someone pined for you. 1.4k wc.
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Nine year old Megumi has a crush on someone. You were pleasantly surprised when he asked you to take him to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients, and you inquired if there was a special occasion or a school cooking project as you both walked along the aisle and collected the items on his list that he prepared beforehand.
Your heart melts when you learn that he was planning to gift the pretty girl in his class something homemade, and he decided on butter cookies because she mentioned in passing that it was one of her favorite snacks. You think it’s incredibly sweet that Megumi came up with the idea himself, and even more so that he wanted to set aside a weekend to create something completely from scratch with his own two hands when purchasing a square tin would’ve been much easier.
It certainly reminds you of an insufferable yet equally lovable sorcerer that’s way too tall for his own good with too bright blue eyes that make you forget everything around you if you stare into them a little too long. When you both were just two young teenagers pining after each other and he showed up with a white pastry box hidden behind his back on a summer day, with the strawberries in season and nurtured and harvested to perfection. You smile at the pleasant memory before forcing yourself back to reality.
When you are getting ready to pay for the things you and Megumi placed on the conveyor belt, he stops you and pulls out his Digimon wallet (courtesy of Gojo’s taste in presents) and explains he wants to purchase it with his own savings and be able to say that this gift is entirely by him without receiving any help from others.
You almost had to hold back a tear because when did this boy become so sweet? You suppose he always was this sweet and thoughtful, it just took a bit of time and some trust for him to fully warm up to you and Gojo despite the circumstances with his family and almost being sold off like a pawn to the Zenin clan. And now he has a home where him and his sister could feel like they belong and be surrounded with people that he could depend on because at the end of the day Megumi is just a boy much too young to be growing up too fast.
You announce your return home to Gojo and Tsumiki with the soft thud of the grocery bags being placed on the kitchen counter, and Megumi scurries into his bedroom to fetch the printed recipe he tucked away in a drawer. You carefully take out each item from the bags to place on the surface for him to get started, and white tufts of hair come into your peripherals and Gojo greets you with a cheeky grin.
“Angel, you’re back.” His hand falls on your hip and he softly pecks your lips when you turn your head toward him. He does a quick scan of the contents in front of you, and he decides you must be some kind of mind reader or his telepathic messages have finally reached you after several days now. “Aw baby~ Don’t tell me you’re baking something for me? How did you know I was craving—”
“Not me.” You shake your head and cut him off promptly. “Megumi.” And at the mention of his name, the young raven-haired boy enters the kitchen with a loose paper in his grip. You offer him a polite smile before addressing that everything he needs is on the counter and point to where the baking equipment are, and if he has any questions or concerns then you’ll be in the next room with Gojo as you drag your boyfriend by the arm to give Megumi his privacy.
“You see, Satoru, our Megumi here has a crush on someone. And he’s taken it upon himself to bake her cookies!” You say just above a whisper, a proud smile lining your lips and Gojo arches a curious brow. You catch a peek between the threshold that separates the kitchen and sitting area with Gojo looming behind you and find Megumi checking off the ingredients and looking over the instructions. He’s being thorough, that’s a good start.
“Megumi, eh? You know, I’m a little surprised he’s crushing at all. He’s quite the serious kid.”
You huff at him softly. “Well, serious or not, I think everyone is allowed to have crushes. Besides, doesn’t this remind you of something? Like that time you baked me a strawberry shortcake because strawberries were my favorite?” You look back up at him, and in your gaze there was always a sort of sweet and dreamy expression that never fails to make his heart swell three times too big.
“Ah.” Gojo chuckles, and his mind drifts back to the fond memories of his own youth, when he too used to try his hand at baking sweets in the hopes of impressing you. He remembered how long it took and how many attempts he made since he had no prior experience. There was a lot of flour and eggshells, and maybe he did set the oven on fire… but the moment he saw your face light up with your beautiful smile it was worth all the trouble and the mess. “That was the cake that changed it all for us, huh?” His arms move to your waist and he presses a kiss to your forehead.
You nod and hum affectionately, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck though with his height he had to bend down slightly. “That’s one way to put it. But as much as I appreciate the sweet gesture, I am so glad you left the baking to me since then.”
“You’re still teasing me about that to this day?” He playfully nips the sensitive spot on your neck causing you to giggle and lightly shove him away. “But hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. A little bird told me that maybe a homemade cake from me would be the thing to win your heart.”
“Well, I hope you know it was more than the cake that won my heart.”
“Yeah, I know it was my good looks and charm, you can’t get enough of me.” Gojo teases, peppering kisses over your shoulders and neck before pulling back just enough so his smirk comes into your view. “Enlighten me then. Since I still don’t have a clue why an Angel like you fell for a great catch such like myself.”
You playfully roll your eyes at his jokes, and you mull it over for a long moment to purposely keep him in anticipation. There are so many reasons that made you love Satoru Gojo back then, and every day you find new things to love about him. But for now the two qualities that come to mind should suffice for an answer. “Maybe it’s because I found you funny. And cute sometimes.”
“Sometimes? Cute most times, I think.” Gojo quips, and he gently pinches your cheeks. “And of course, my sense of humor is legendary. Who else can make you laugh like I do, hmm?”
“Alright, I think that’s enough flattery for you in one day. Any more and I’m afraid your enormous ego might burst.” There’s a teasing lilt in your voice, and suddenly the air around you feels sweeter as Gojo brings you closer to him and kisses your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours.
“But you know I love you, right?” He says in a much softer tone. “I might tease you a lot and act like an idiot sometimes, but I do appreciate you still being here with me through it all. Without you, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you. You make me a better person, you know that?” He tenderly cradles the side of your face and gazes lovingly into your eyes before there’s a flash of his dimples and a boyish giggle. “And the fact you think I’m cute is icing on the cake. Pun intended.”
You groan softly but the laughter that came shortly after is one of genuine affection. “I'm gonna go check on Megumi.” Before you turn on your heel, you plant a big smooch on his cheek then you’re gone the next second. He stands there, grinning from ear to ear as he rubs the spot you kissed like he still was (and he still is) the lovesick boy just a few years back.
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꒰ note ᰔ the idea where megumi takes after gojo in some ways really squeezes my heart and that’s what inspired this little piece. ꒱
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atoltia · 6 days
Text
A Feline Distraction
You head over to one of Sylus' villas in the suburbs only to find him... being yelled at by a cat?
In which Sylus got chosen by the cat distribution system.
Sylus x !femMC
Fluff, domestic fluff, a cat
-0-
You really didn't know why you came by so early.
When Sylus sent you the invitation to come to one of his villas - the same one where you sought out shelter from the rain that one time you had a mission in the suburbs - he didn't set any time, just the open message that he will be there and he does not have any work that day.
Which was his way of telling you that yes, he was aware that it is your day off and he wanted to spend the day with you. The invitation sounded innocent enough, if the man that you were thinking about wasn't Sylus. You knew very well that if you didn't go, he'd have gone to your apartment instead whether you liked it or not, and considering that Xavier just came back from one of his long missions - it might just be best if you indulged the man.
And besides, it wasn't like it was going to be unpleasant. It's a nice day out and you remember that house having a pool and a lovely garden. Maybe you could convince him to take a dip with you, clothes being optional.
And Sylus - well, it's been a few weeks since the two of you spent some time together and you do admit that you've missed the man. Besides his seemingly gruff persona, he's pleasant company to be around with (and you definitely didn't miss the way he would hold you, just keep you in his arms whenever the two of you were together. Definitely not).
So there you were, pushing through the gates of the villa while the early morning sun shone bright overhead, admiring the way the blossoms of the nearby flower bushes were blooming as the sunlight dappled through the trees.
You looked up, your lips curling into a smile when you saw him by the rose bushes, standing tall and proud with his arms folded over his chest, his face contorted into a frown -
Hm, what?
You stopped, blinked as you watched Sylus stand there beneath the shade of the nearby trees, long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as a kitten was trying - and failing - to climb his pants leg while an open can of tuna lay undisturbed by his feet on the cobblestone walkway.
It was a pretty little thing. White, wispy fur with a cute dark spot at the top of its head covered a tiny little baby about the size of your hand. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks old, maybe a month, by your estimate.
It was stubborn though, judging from the way it kept climbing Sylus' pant no matter how much it fell, and the loud shrills of its mews was very present in that lovely morning as it desperately demanded the man's attention.
"Sy." You smiled when he looked up, those ruby, ruby eyes that were swirling with frustration mere moments ago shifted, warmth blooming into them when his gaze landed on you. He didn't move to meet you as he decided to stand his ground as his leg kept getting barraged by one tiny cat, although his arm outstretched to grasp you the moment you were within his reach.
"Hi," he murmured into your hair, twirling a lock of it between his long fingers as he pressed you to his body, careful to not agitate the still climbing kitten.
"Who's this?" you asked as you looked down at the little rascal, now chirping at the both of you. It's gotten up to his waist now, claws fully dug into the leather of his belt.
Sylus sighed, and you could see his attempt to dig for patience. "She's been trying to climb me for the past half hour now," he grumbled, his fingers tapping into the length of your back. "Like a certain kitten that's insistent on her bedtime schedule."
You laughed, brightening his day almost immediately, as you leant slightly to cup the kitten within your hand. It didn't make a fuss, but it now directed it's insistent mewing at you.
"Aren't you a pretty baby?" It wasn't lost on you the way Sylus' eyes softened as you cooed, his head tilting to the side as he shifted his bodyweight to his other foot. You bent down to the ground to where the tuna was, nudging the baby so it could eat.
Before it immediately jumped back to climb Sylus' leg.
He turned towards you.
"Do you see the problem now?"
You inhaled from your nose sharply, his eyes narrowing when he saw you struggling to keep your composure. "Wow," you exhaled as you hid your smile with the back of your hand. "Such a problem, indeed."
He clicked his tongue before drilling a finger into your side, which resulted in you being unable to hide your glee of the situation anymore as you doubled over in delight.
So hilarious was your partner's plight that you just had to lean up, used his wide shoulders as support as you stood on the tips of your toes, to give him a noisy kiss on his jaw.
The kitten mewed between you.
"Yes, yes," you chided, picking the baby back up and holding her up to his eye level. "She wants you."
"Doesn't everyone?"
"The cops certainly do."
He snorted, once again folding his arms over his massive chest as stared at the cat in your hands. It took him a few moments, but you've spent enough time with him to know that there were hundreds of thoughts circulating in that man's head as he tried to figure out the best course of action.
Yet, he sighed in defeat.
"Come here." The kitten was dwarfed within his hands, her big eyes impossibly bright as he turned her over to be cradled in his arms. The incessant mewing stopped and was already replaced by purring that could rival his motorcycle engine.
You were ecstatic.
Now within the confines of the house, the kitten went absolutely feral over the tuna that it ignored for over half an hour, making a mess of its tiny face and his marble countertops.
"What are you naming her?" you asked, your fingers gently petting the top of the cat's head.
It wasn't often that you saw Sylus to look so affronted, but to see him like that over a cat was a hilarious experience.
"I'm not keeping it."
"Why not?"
He looked at you, one wonderfully sculpted brow arched at your direction. "Do you really expect me to keep a cat?"
You raised a brow in turn. "You have Mephisto."
"Sweetie," he said, digging for patience from his already lowered supply. "He's a mechanical bird."
"His battery died once in the middle of watching me and you freaked out and came to get him yourself."
"He's my eyes on you," he insisted. "I needed him fixed immediately."
Your brow stayed lifted. "I still have video of you cradling him like a baby," you said evenly. "Or did you forget that ever happened?"
He lifted a shoulder, shrugged. "I'm merely protective of what's mine."
"Great," you said as you clasped his hand, pumped it once. "You'd do great with Sofia."
"Excuse me."
"Nice dealing with you, love." Mirth flashed in your eyes as your lips quirked with laughter.
He tugged your hand, pulled you towards his chest. Frustration mixed with amusement danced in his eyes as he leaned down and nipped your lower lip. "If that's how you proceed with negotiations, I'm going to have to sit you down for lessons."
"If it works, it works." You kissed his throat, hummed, rocked him as you stood. "I'm gonna go for a swim. Make sure you get the tuna off her face." And with a slight push, you were off him, making your merry way to the pool.
"What am I going to do with the both of you?"
You laughed, and the last thing you saw was him standing, both hands on his hips as he watched the cat.
-0-
It didn't take long for the photos to come.
Sylus wasn't averse to taking photos, certainly when it came to you considering the last time you checked his phone there were hundreds of pictures of just you.
He sent you several pictures of little Sofia with the excuse of giving you "updates" but you know full well he was as smitten with the cat as you were.
It's hilarious, really. He was a terrifying man. The mere mention of his name could make even the hardened of space criminals second thoughts. You've seen this man in combat, and even utilized his skills to aid you with your work. To the common folk, Sylus was the boogeyman that wasn't meant to be messed with lest you wanted to die.
Cats adored him.
Or at least curious about him, even with the smarmy look he always has on his damned beautiful face. Since the very first time you've met him, he'd be sending you a photo or two of random cat interactions, most of which he never invited to happen.
You remembered that one time he sent you a photo of one of his sitting rooms and asked you to find a black kitten that managed to get into his manor without anyone knowing. You had to come over and help him scour for hours because, as you found out, finding a black kitten in a room with dark furniture was nearly impossible.
And there was that other time, in the same villa where you found him being scaled by little Sofia, you two had quite a close encounter with another kitten that was stuck in his basement.
Many dates, many vacations, and you could always recall him being stopped by at least one cat and the occasional bird along the way. It was adorable, and the fact that he didn't quite agree with your assessment made it even more so. So you weren't that surprised to find him being hounded by a one month old kitten.
It became part of your morning routine. Beginning the day with cat photos was certainly a strong starting point, elevating your mood considerably. Practiced and posed, elegant photos of a quickly growing kitten graced your eyes, preparing you for a day filled with Wanderers, no doubt.
But Sylus' texts weren't the only ones you look forward to.
The moment Sylus stepped foot inside the manor in the N109 Zone, Luke and Kieran immediately added you to a group chat where they sent you all the other... media that your partner vehemently refused to send you.
The first stream of texts were several photos and videos of Sylus using his evol to help him bathe the kitten, with the front of his shirt and his hair already soaked.
And another one, a few days later which you assumed was taken from outside his bedroom window, of Sylus with his eyes closed, fingers digging deep into his biceps as Sofia and Mephisto were seemingly having an intense argument (the last photo in that set was Sylus directly looking at the window while streaks of red and black were lashing alarmingly close to the camera).
Many more photos of Sylus asleep either on his office or living room couch, fast asleep in the way you know he liked, with a cat sprawled directly on his stomach happily dozing the day away.
Kieran sent a photo of Sofia wearing a frilled collar decked out with sparkling rubies. The caption read: this cost more than six months of my salary (¬_¬")
You stifled a laugh, sending a quick reply before Captain Jenna caught you using your phone in the middle of your work hours.
You mean your allowance?
We don't get an allowance!, came the indignant reply seconds later. You get an allowance.
You grinned before sending him a crow emoji.
Your favorite one, however, was of Sylus frowning over what Luke said to be a legal document, the insult of having to read such a mediocre piece of legality plastered openly on his face all the while having a fluffy cat laying belly down on top of his snowy hair. It quickly became your phone wallpaper.
Mm. It has been a week since you last visited, and Jenna has been not so subtly pestering you to take some leave (it wasn't your fault you were a workaholic, but Jenna didn't want to hear it).
So that was that.
-0-
The sun was setting when you reached the manor, a large bag of groceries in one hand and a parcel on the other. The twins made quick work with the groceries the moment you stepped in, most likely because they knew you bought that new candy bar from Linkon City that they've been raving about for weeks.
You tried to not be too loud, as you knew Sylus would be asleep during this time of day. Soft footsteps padded on the polished hardwood floor
You remembered the first time you were given free reign to explore the manor, the amount of times you got lost amongst its many rooms, its many corridors. It used to feel so cold to you, so vast and cavernous even with the plush furniture and expensive art. No matter how many hours you've spent in front of one of the fireplaces in the many sitting rooms, no matter how many plushies you added to the bedroom he designated for you, no matter how many times you tried to make it feel like home.
It wasn't until that one night, more than a year ago now, that you felt the frost slowly dissipating. It wasn't anything special, just the two of you in the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make for dinner as the chef called in sick.
You didn't figure him being the type to know how to cook, seeing as he commanded his own business empire, but he was more than adequate. Still, you weren't about to let him do all the work. You were eating, too.
It was a mess, mostly because you two kept bickering about the recipe - with you being too stubborn to yield and him thoroughly enjoying the look of competitive frustration on your face. It wasn't fair that his reach was longer than yours, and even with your training, you couldn't take the recipe book that he held up in the air.
Cursing your hunter's training for a lack of a decent vertical jump, you landed a little bit wrong, a little to farther back than you anticipated. You remembered the surprised look on both of your faces and the sudden swishes of the black and red of his evol. A lot of cursing, a lot of pulling, and suddenly both you and him were on the floor covered in flour.
You barely registered the snickers of two voices by the doorway, didn't register the clicks and shutters of multiple photos being taken, and definitely didn't register immediately that you were on him, straddling him as the bag of flour rested on the top of your head (and yes, you still do remember the way his large hands rested protectively on your hips, which explained why you were on his lap rather than having a broken tailbone with an impact with the floor).
You two dusted yourself quickly, still bickering but with less heat, you decided to just order pizza all the while the two of you trailed flour on the floor.
It's a nice memory, one that you've come back to whenever you arrive here. And you were sure Sylus thought of it often too, considering the fact that he gives you a teasing look whenever you were in proximity of a bag of flour.
You basked in that warmth as you threaded the corridors, taking your time to get to the west wing to get to his bedroom. Opening the door as quietly as you can, you peeked it, smiled when you were met with a small mew.
Sofia laid at the foot of the bed, her tiny head raised in greeting. You shuffled in, careful to not make any noise. The parcel you carried was placed on the sofa as you secured the curtains, knowing full well that Sylus would be annoyed to wake up to open curtains.
You turned, smiled as you watched your partner just doze on the massive bed, hair mussed and squished to one side. Gone was the look of tension that he often had, the stress he carried momentarily held at bay. Taking off your coat, you moved to the bed, careful to not nudge too hard.
With one hand you patted the tiny cat's head just before you crawled beneath the covers, sighing when a strong arm reached out to wrap around your waist.
You let yourself get pulled into his warmth, get pulled into the safe and comfortable. With the utmost tenderness, you placed soft kisses on his bare chest, on his neck before nuzzling in.
It was still pretty early, you thought as the sleep was slowly overtaking you. A few hours wouldn't hurt. So long as it was with him.
Sylus woke an hour later, ruby eyes still bleary, and yet he was pleased to find himself being sandwiched by the two kittens in his life. He smiled that rare smile that was only reserved for you and sighed.
Maybe keeping the cat was a boon after all.
---
Listen. Sylus' Tender Curve has me in shackles.
Check out my masterlist for more Sylus fluff!
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