#just some evening fluff

[technically-human]

St. Hilarion's ghost story

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

[lucabyte]

"So what's the weirdest possible first (second) impression Loop could make on the party in postcanon?" "Yeah, that, probably."

+ Bonus

theyre just standing there in direct party order while this happens. normal tuesday.

[kouibin]

me when im looking for a fic but all im getting is pure smut

[yuwuta]

olympics coming up…… athlete aus on the mind….. satoru as a swimmer….. unreasonably large wingspan…. huge hands..... thinks “official” competitions and tournaments are boring because he can’t use the goofy purple googly eyes goggles he likes to practice in…… practices at ungodly hours solely because he likes when the pool is empty because that means you’ll dip your feet in at the edge and be there to greet him with a kiss when he’s finished his laps….. they bring up the stats board and it’s just his name ten times before the next fastest person and he could still lap them, and even tho he’ll always put so much pressure on himself to be the best, it’s worth it to have you hold his face and tell him you’re proud of him... he’s gotten so much merch from events and sponsorships and he used to think they just created clutter but that all changes when you start to wear his clothes (esp the ones with his name on it… he’s not proud to admit that does Something to him)…. always looks up to the stands when he finishes a race and if he knows you’re not there, he looks right at the camera, draws an infinity sign with his fingers, and blows a kiss (which, some commentators routinely call “unsportsmanlike conduct” but he doesn’t care, and always, publicly says he’ll pay the fees if it means blowing a kiss to his girl at home)

[apoorhuman]

Mc: don't you just hate the fact that you already graduated and finished school, have a good and decent job, but suddenly you got sucked into hell and forced to go to school with most of the subjects you never even learned in your FUCKING ENTIRE LIFE?!

Lucifer: mc, we said we're sorry

Mc: I AM NOT GOING TO JUST LET MYSELF GET YELLED BY YOU JUST BECAUSE I CAN'T GET GOOD FUCKING GRADE IN A SUBJECT CALLED "BASIC STANDARD MAGIC"

Belphegor and Satan watching from afar: *snickers*

[ju-liczka]

When it comes to Morgott we all can agree he is just build... different✨ (that shoulders five times his head *shivers*) So there are some of my thoughts if u wanna read them because they kinda explain my take on him in this drawing lol

I was thinking recently more about his fur and how it looks on his body. It's patchy, It looks rough and uneven... Even his tail when you look closer, It's shape is more defined by the muscles rather than the hair on it. Every artist drawing him gives him much more fluff and I truly think it's well deserved. And from the game design/lore perspective it's completely understandable. He is made to look grotesque, deformed, aged and ugly even... That's all intended... BUT!

I was thinking... What if it's mostly just lack of... maintenance? Lack of care. Malnourishment and neglect of a kind? We know that the Erdtree has a kind of sickening effects on Omens as well. Mohg is for sure holding up much better and I kind of don't believe they would be so much different from eachother (the influence of Formless Mother on Mohgs looks is after all not entirely known). He has more pride in himself and so he carries himself better than his brother that is still loyal and so close to the Golden Order. Mohg took his chance at getting away from the Erdtree and I think it is obvious that this freedom did him some good. I personally belive that Morgott could also achive such change if it wasn't for his deep rooted loyality to the Order and crippling self-resentment.

So to sum my thoughts up... What if he's just not thriving?

Just imagine this kind of idealistic scenario when he can finally put his needs first. When he can take care of himself or let others care for him. He puts on some more weight, rounding up his already muscular body giving it softer, healthier look. His furr thickens and follows up to the rest of his body not just limbs (could be just as thick as the rest or more like a soft fuzz maybe idk). His posture straightens, as with healthy body comes healthy mind. Of course, he is still an old man at the end of it. The years made their mark on his features and some of them are irreversable. But he is healing~

And I personaly love imaginging him in this healing state that unfortuntly is impossible to get in game. But game is game and fan work is fan work. And in my tiny rotten brain I give him little forehead kisses and tell him how precious he is uwu

[sunnibits]

potentially hot take but this is a pet peeve of mine

[starlitsequins]

fiddlestan is so fun to write for me bc i dont even need to do anything and they start imploding on their own. all of their issues just compound on each other: the broken family bonds, the low self-worth, the emotional instability. they don't even need ford to be dysfunctional! and yet, simultaneously, it still works? i feel like im running a harvard experiment on two depressed mice in my google docs.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: (folded up and hunched over with chin in hands) (brooding)

Vaggie: "Someone's got a lovely long face today."

Charlie: (sighs) "Sorry..."

Vaggie: "Don't be, sweetie." (sits and hunches over too, hands clasped) "What's got you down?"

Charlie: "You, kinda."

Vaggie: "Me?" (terrified) "What did-"

Charlie: "And all this." (waves at vaggie next to her) "Specifically."

Vaggie: (edges away) "Is it the 'sweetie' thing? 'Cause I'll stop-"

Charlie: "No. No, I like it." (sighs again) "Vaggie, in the wonderful, amazing, dream-like over a YEAR we've known each other now, have you ever, like..."

Vaggie: (edging closer again) "...have I ever...?"

Charlie: "Killed anyone?"

Vaggie: "Wh- No!"

Charlie: "Not even a little?"

Vaggie: "What would 'killed them a little' even look like..? I mean, sure I've thought about maiming people, and probably would've a few times if you hadn't been there, but-"

Charlie: "What about when I wasn't looking? No... sneaking out for some midnight murder sprees?"

Vaggie: "Charlie- I can't even get up to use the bathroom without you tearing up half the bed with your claws looking for me. We've had to get new sheets three times this month. And last time I took a midnight shower, I found you curled up on the floor just outside the door afterwards. I almost STEPPED on you!"

Charlie: (pouting) "You were gone when I woke up."

Vaggie: "I was gone maybe ten minutes."

Charlie: "And I was missing you."

Vaggie: "Yeah. I figured." (smiles) "So how the fuck am I supposed to be sneaking out to kill people, when I'm best friends with the biggest cuddle bug in all creation?"

Charlie: "I don't know!" (frustrated) "NONE of this makes any SENSE!"

Vaggie: ".... now I feel like I'm missing something."

Charlie: "You're not though! That's why-" (GROWLS) (yanks at hair)

Vaggie: "Okay, hey- Charlie?" (takes her hand) "Talk to me?"

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "...why're you still here?"

Vaggie: "Do you... want me to move out?"

Charlie: "NO! Never! I, you- I don't even know how I'd-"

Vaggie: "So that's not the problem here. What is?"

Charlie: "The PROBLEM is- I want you here, but you shouldn't BE here! You're not a bad person! Whatever you did or used to do- you haven't been for a whole YEAR, and I'm just- just being stupid and selfish wanting you to stay, but you-"

Vaggie: "You're not-"

Charlie: "-aren’t doing anything bad! So WHY-"

Vaggie: "Charlie, hold on- no- you're not stupid or selfish. You've been alone, and that's not something you did anything to deserve, okay?"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "You can be sad without apologizing for it too, you know."

Charlie: (slumping) "Why are you still in hell, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: (wryly) "Not like I've got wings to flutter off with."

Charlie: "You deserve them."

Vaggie: "..... thanks for saying so, sweetie."

Charlie: "It's true."

Vaggie: “Pretty sure it’s not, since I don’t have them.”

Charlie: “You should. You should have them.”

Vaggie: “I’d rather have this.”

Vaggie: (lifts their hands)

Vaggie: “Who needs wings, when you’ve got the best cuddle bug ever. Right?”

Charlie: (holds tight) “…heaven’s probably better. Full of people you wouldn’t want to even maim. That’s where you belong, not down here in hell…”

Vaggie: “…with you?”

Charlie: “Oh I’d be fine!”

Vaggie: (lifts brow)

Charlie: “Really!” (looks away) “It’d be good. Knowing you’re up there in heaven, and, happy.”

Vaggie: “I wouldn’t be happy.”

Charlie: “Sure you would.” (miserable) “It’s heaven.”

Vaggie: “Hell’s better. It’s where you are.”

Charlie: “Vaggie…”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “Be serious? Please?”

Vaggie: “I am. But it's not gonna work if you don’t listen to it.”

Charlie: “Fine.”

Charlie: (deep breath) (looks vaggie in the eye)

Charlie: “Vaggie. Do you want me to try getting you into heaven?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: (voice crack) “Are you SURE?”

Vaggie: “I’m not going anywhere. I’d miss you too much.”

Charlie: “...okay.”

Charlie: (laughs wetly) “Okay. I’d. Same.”

Vaggie: “Yeah.”

Vaggie: (dabs away charlie’s tears)

Vaggie: “You’ve been feeling extra lonely haven' you, thinking about all that on your own.”

Charlie: “Maybe. A little.”

Vaggie: “…sorry I didn’t, you know. Make sure you knew sooner. ”

Charile: (laughs for real) “Don’t be. Not like I asked.”

Vaggie: (smiles) “Sorry for making you feel like you even had to ask.”

Charlie: “Um. Uh.” (clears throat) “You’re forgiven?”

Vaggie: (chuckles)

Charlie: “…and, you’ll tell me, if you change your mind? About the whole heaven thing?”

Vaggie: “I won’t change my mind, Charlie.”

Charlie: “But if you do, you’ll say so?”

Vaggie: “Mmm, kinda feels like you’re saying it like you think I will.”

Charlie: “No. I mean you can, I just… don’t wanna worry about it like this again.”

Vaggie: “Oh. Then I promise-”

Charlie: “Thank you.”

Vaggie: “-if you promise me you’ll let me know what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours.”

Charlie: “Pfft- More silly than brilliant. Didn’t wanna bother you.”

Vaggie: “Bother me? Now you're really sounding silly. You’re not the only one who’s been lonely.”

Charlie: “Huh? You? Why were you- Ohhh…”

Vaggie: “You’ve been a million miles away lately. Welcome back.”

Charlie: “Aww Vaggie! Were you missing me, even when I was right in front of you???”

Vaggie: “Don’t even.”

Charlie: “That’s so cuuuute~”

Vaggie: “Don't. You've been worse. You were impersonating a rug- You clung on so hard after I picked you up I couldn’t even get the blankets over us again.”

Charlie: “Lucky I make a good blanket!”

Vaggie: “The best. But you still gotta stop sleeping in front of the bathroom door.”

Charlie: “I can, try?”

Vaggie: “Is it really that hard to stay in a warm soft bed?”

Charlie: “It is when you’re not there!”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, please. I’ll be coming right back.”

Charlie: “…then I can wait.”

Vaggie: “Good.”

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: “Probably. I think I can probably wait.”

Vaggie: “Ugghh...”

Vaggie: (playfully bumps shoulders) (leans in as charlie hugs her instead)

[saturncoyote]

Compilation of gay ass little trolls part TWO (sleepy edition)

[craftnkittn]

.....where are the Bucchigiri?! fanfics....WHERE ARE THEY???!!!?!

[pixelatedraindrops]

One thing to keep in mind about me...

If I ever have a favorite character:

They WILL end up like this

in my head

CONSTANTLY

[fumifooms]

Raising my eyebrow

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Rebuilding

You all have been so kind <3 It isn't much but I figured we need a win :D Here is the win :D

There will probably come another drabble between this one and the last one about Dream dealing with all he learned but I wanted fluff so we going out of order again!

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

No edits or beta. We just having fun <3

*------------------*

Dream hums as he packs some snacks. He had been waiting impatiently for this day. Cross had texted him that the meeting would have to wait as it were the holidays with them in their universe.

But! Those have finally passed!

Which means…

Dream grins as he checks his own little present. He is excited to see Nightmare. See how his now little brother is doing.

It still hurts to not be the one to look after Nightmare. But Dream had managed to at least accept that for now.

Too much had happened between them for them to just pick things up as they were. And Dream will admit that he is a little afraid that he will end up letting the memories cloud his own judgement and behaviour concerning Nightmare.

So. They are taking small steps! Kind of like playdates.

Dream hadn’t minded the name much. It is cute. Even if he is still sad it is needed.

Dream takes a deep breath and hugs his bag close “Baby steps Dream. Just take small steps.”

For now he has a little brother to see and cuddle. Dream’s goal at the moment is to convince Nightmare that Dream does love him. Dream figured that is a good first step over trying to convince him that he had always loved him.

Dream texts the gang that he is going to the meeting spot before leaving the phone in his house. He knows people can track phones and stuff and he is not leading anyone to his little brother.

Dream concentrates his staff and powers and connects to the ride universe. He steps through and looks around.

It seems that this universe has a small town at least. Probably a locked universe than. As the gang doesn’t take risks. A locked one without knowledge about the multiverse, and probably far away from anyone who may have seen any skeletons.

Dream hums as he skips through the beautiful little winter wonderland town. The snow is nice and fluffy and the many coloured lights are beautiful. There are little stalls with some things for sale and Dream can see a little frozen lake in the distance. Oh! Maybe he and Nightmare can go ice skating?

Blue taught Dream all about it after Dream admitted that he never actually experienced winter. Which was weird to Blue as he grew up in a snowy town. They drag Ink along and had a lot of fun.

Dream snickers as he now knows why Blue had been so pushy about dragging Ink along too. But playing matchmaker is for later!

Dream looks around and grins as he spots the others. Seems like it is just Dust and Cross today with Nightmare. Dream rushes to their side and can’t help but think back to the first time he heard about their ‘child.’.

Back then Dream had still believed the worst of Nightmare. When the actual proof that Nightmare had always just been himself had been right in front of him.

Dream really needed to learn to look fully at situations before making decisions.

But that is for later. He happily goes over to Dust, Cross and Nightmare. Nightmare is sitting on Cross’s lap and seems to be people watching. He is wearing a large jacket, very thick looking pants and snow boats. Not to forget an adorable frog beanie.

No doubt to protect the scars on his skull and keep him warm.

Dream smiles “Hey guys!”

Dust looks at him bored and nods as greeting. Cross gives a small smile back “Hey Dream.”

Nightmare looks away from the people and shoots him a tiny smile “Hey…”

It was already so worth it. All the effort and work and careful steps. Because his brother finally smiled at him again. It may be after Gyftmas but Dream knows this is the best gift he could have gotten.

Dust gets up first and takes Nightmare over as Cross carefully rights himself.

Dream snickers to himself.

Cross looks confused as he gets up after one of his feet sliding a little bit “What?”

Dream shakes his skull before smiling “It is just… remember how the last time I met you guys with Nightmare you guys said he was yours?” he grins more “Apparently you were telling the truth after all.” Even if it is still hard to not have Nightmare with him. It is getting easier to accept the gang as his twins parents. It is just the obvious care they show. How to are so careful with him. It is hard to not see this as something good for his brother.

Cross sputters as he blushes slightly embarrassed.

Nightmare blinks and tilts his skull “I remember that.” He looks at Cross with a frown “You are not good at improv.”

Cross sputters again and looks with betrayal at Nightmare “Nightlight!”

That is another thing. Their nickname for his brother? Their little nightlight? Adorable. 10 out of 10. Dream will not let anyone interfere.

Dust chuckles and shoots Cross an amused look “Still ended up being right.” even more amused “Even about the relationship.”

Cross looks even more embarrassed as he looks to the side “If I had known I would get bullied I wouldn’t have come.”

Dust hums and shoots Nightmare a look. Nightmare looks back with a doubtful look and Dust nods “I agree Nightmare. He is bluffing.” More amused at Cross “You would have come either way.” Then Dust walks a bit closer and pulls Cross’s skull down a bit to enable him to easily kiss his cheek.

That is something Dream still needs to get used to. The four of them dating. It is just not something Dream had expected! Thought that is because of the fact that Dream only knew them when fighting. Who knows?! Maybe they had been dating for years and Dream just never knew- wait.

Dream gives them a strict look “You guys better keep it at handholding and kissing in front of Nightmare.”

Nightmare frowns at Dream “I know that kinda stuff!”

Dream sighs and gets a faraway look “How far I have fallen to let my little brother see those sinful things when he is just a baby.”

Nightmare pouts as he huffs “We fought before!”

Dust laughs and just nuzzles the grumpy baby. Cross grins amused as well “Yeah so sinful. Premarital handholding.” Which just causes Dust to snort again as Nightmare pouts.

Dream smiles and giggles “Sorry sorry.” He looks at Nightmare “It is great to see you again. How were your holidays?”

Nightmare keeps pouting and thinks for a moment before relaxing a bit “They were nice. We had food and did some stuff around town. Looking at things.” He looks back at Dream “How was Gyftmas?”

Dream makes a so-so motions “It was alright. There was this big party which I just visited to show my face. Afterwards I went back to Blue’s with Ink and the three of us and Blue’s brother had a bit of a more private celebration.” Which included Dream trying to push Blue and Ink under the mistletoe. He was kind of successful as Dream managed to get them under there. But Ink just stared at the little plant before proclaiming he had an idea for a drawing and he rushed off.

Dream and Blue drunk some whiskey after that together with Stretch.

Nightmare tilts his skull “I thought you liked the big parties?”

Dream shrugs as he walks with the family “They are okay. Mostly because it used to just give me a lot of energy thanks to all the positive emotions going around. Nowadays they are more of a hassle than anything.” He rolls his eye lights “People keep demanding I do the things nad stuff I used to do. Honestly some people never learn.”

Dust and Cross nod in agreement as Nightmare shrugs “Some people don’t want to learn. Can’t make them.”

Dream nods “Very true. But tell me how have you been!” and he looks hopeful.

Nightmare thinks for a moment before slowly starting to talk about how the winter hit and so there is a lot of snow. He mentions he doesn’t like the cold but the snow is pretty. And that his classes are going better.

Nightmare huffs unhappily “Math is still stupid.”

Cross looks amused “Just need to practise is Night. You will get it eventually.”

This actually surprises Dream a lot “But you had about a thousand calculations and stuff about the balance in your office.”

Nightmare makes some motions before sighing “It is different now…”

Dust actually speaks again “We think it is because he is a child again. The boost made him older using god magic. We wouldn’t be surprised if it changed him in some other things as well. Like how his magic had a different colour. It could have also assisted a lot with the way he thougth about things.”

Dream nods “Like an aid? Or a cheat sheet?”

Dust shrugs but nods.

Cross shrugs himself “We aren’t sure. It isn’t like we can test it and Nightmare thought that was just who he was.”

Nightmare nods “It felt like me. Not like I was still six. I felt like an adult… I think.”

Dream smiles “Well. It doesn’t matter now. We can just assume the magic aided you with everything.”

Nightmare shoots him a considering look before smiling a tiny bit again “Yeah.”

They get into town and Dream looks hopeful at Nightmare and Dust as he mutters “I was wondering… If I could… Could I please hold Nightmare again?”

Dust thinks for a moment and looks down at Nightmare. Nightmare gives him a nod. Which causes Dust to give him a nod and carefully hand Nightmare over.

Dream pulls Nightmare as close against him as he can while still being gentle. Nightmare is still healing. He almost died and got very hurt. Dream has to make sure he is careful.

Dream smiles as he nuzzles Nightmare softly “I am so happy to see you again. I love you.” I love you so much Nighty.

Nightmare hums and just hugs him back.

Their souls may no longer be in sync as they used to be but at least it seems that Dream’s hugs also mean something to Nightmare. Which may be all Dream gets but he will hold unto it greedily.

It just feels so good to have Nightmare near. To be able to hold and hug him.

They just let him hold his tiny twin. Enjoy the feeling of him close again. Dream never gets over this. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed his brother’s hugs until he finally got one again. He wonders if that is what starving feels like.

They sit down on a bench and Dream just asks his brother things. As long as Nightmare is open to it Dream is trying to get to know him again. Learn what he likes and dislikes. Which books he reads and which movies he watches.

Dream has heard so many facts about bats.

Nightmare tilts his skull “Gyftmas, or Christmas isn’t as much of a present holiday in our universe.” Their universe. The place the called home and settled. The very same that Error hid again and refuses to give the new coordinates to.

Dream frowns “So you didn’t get presents?”

Nightmare looks a bit shyer “I did get stuff!” then he looks embarrassed and crosses his arms “Dads are still used to giving gifts and stuff.”

Cross nods “We got him a few small things…” he rubs his neck “It was a special happening! A holiday! It seems criminal to not get him things!”

Dream laughs and nods “Oh I fully agree…” and he slowly rises his little present “I promise it isn’t a lot… just a present… Happy Gyftmas.” It is the first holiday where he has his brother with him again.

Nightmare stares with shock at the present before looking slightly panicked at Dust and Cross before muttering “I didn’t… I didn’t get anything… I didn’t know…”

Dream just hugs his little brother closer “I know. It is okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have surprised you…” or maybe he should have asked any of the four if this was okay?! He just wanted to surprise Nighty with something. “I just wanted to give you something okay? That is it.” he holds Nightmare close and smiles “You already gave me this chance Nighty… There isn’t anything else I want.”

Nightmare still looks unsure as he stares at the present. Cross rubs Nighty’s cheek “It is okay Nightlight. If you want we can check the stalls?”

Nightmare looks at the stalls and nods “yeah.” He holds his hands out to Cross and Cross takes him back. Dream is sad to let go of him but doesn’t fight it as Cross and Nightmare move towards the stalls.

Dream frowns at the present “I shouldn’t have surprised him.”

Dust snorts “You are fine. Nightmare just still has this idea that he owns people things when he gets stuff. We are still working on it.”

Dream blinks and thinks “Oh… is that why you guys gave him gifts for the last holiday?”

Dust nods “Yup. He is still learning to just be a kid again.”

Dream laughs and nods “I can’t imagine how hard that is…” For Nightmare to have to unlearn 500 years of trauma and responsibilities.

Dust shrugs “We are making progress.”

They sit in silence as they wait. Dust is very quiet and Dream rubs his hands. He is still not sued to Dust. He is just so eerily quiet and unmoving. Almost like a statue, and Dream can know as he used to be one.

The first few times Dream tried to fill the silence but nothing what he said seemed to be able to pull Dust into a conversation. Maybe Dust just doesn’t want to talk to him or maybe Dust is just quiet. Dream isn’t sure.

A memory enters his mind and Dream gets ready “I euh… had a question.”

Dust hums and waits.

Dream takes a deep breath “Have you guys been to Dreamtale? And… euh… have you seen any of us per chance?”

Dust thinks for a moment before nodding.

Dream shoots upright “Seriously?! Was Nightmare little at that point?” another nod.

Dream leans back and mutters “So I wasn’t going insane?”

Dust snorts and shoots him a look “Nightmare saw you through a window and he said you saw him too. Calling him ‘Nighty’ and he made a break for it.” and he looks back forwards.

Dream just leans back. Holy shit. All this time he thought it was somekind of magical hallucination or something. Nope. His actual brother. Dream can’t believe it. He went back to Dreamtale to get answers. And he got his answers but again he hadn’t considered what the sighting could mean.

At least Dream will excuse himself for just assuming it was a hallucination. Who would assume that it is your actual brother who was an adult the last time you knowingly saw him!?

Which is when Cross and Nightmare return to them. As soon as they get near Nightmare holds out a present. It is packed with the generic holiday wrapping paper and Dream happily takes the present after which he gives his own back to Nightmare.

Dream takes care to unwrap the gift and smiles at the small snowglobe. It has this town in it with the lake and Dream smiles happily at Nightmare “I love it.” and he isn’t even kidding. This place now holds a special place in his soul. A reminder is very nice to have. He will think of this moment each time he sees it.

Nightmare looks away embarrassed and shrugs as he opens the present only to stare.

Dream looks nervously at the small wooden bat he had tried to carve. He rubs his arm “I am still getting back into it… But well… You really like bats…” and they used to carve each other these statues…

Nightmare traces the carved wood and holds it close. A soft thanks is muttered and Dream feels himself relax. Nightmare always gets this shy about things he liked, even when they were kids together.

They end up relocating to the lake to get away from the other people. Only to see a small stall renting out ice skates and a few people skating.

Dream smiles at Nightmare “Want to learn how to skate? I can teach you!”

Nightmare frowns as he thinks it over. Dust and Cross share a look and seem to speak without making any sounds before both nodding. Apparently they are accepting of the idea! Great!

Nightmare looks up at his two dads and Cross smiles “I can’t skate myself.”

Dust rolls his eyes “I can. While Dream teaches you Night I will teach Cross.”

Dream looks confused at Dust “You can skate?”

Dust shrugs “Snowdin.”

Right. Of course. Duh.

They get four pair of skates and Dust helps Nightmare with his, and afterwards helps Cross with his as well. Cross looks deeply embarrassed as he mutters “Just never skated before…”

Dust shrugs “it is fine.”

They get to the lake and Dream is quick to focus all his attention on Nightmare. He helps him stand and find his balance and then a slowly helps him move a tiny bit.

It takes a while but soon enough Nightmare is smiling and having fun as they skate. Dream grins and happily shows off his moves to Nightmare when he has his balance.

Dream smiles as he just enjoys his day. And he hopes he will get many more just like this.

*------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Oh also. @spotaus haha almost forgot to add you that time!

[holeodemony]

Laughing crying choking on my tears why am I constantly haunted by the thoughts of all these tragic little gay men I just want then to be okay for once yet terrible things always happen why they just need to be in each others arms and in my arms I need to comfort them why because they're tragic little gay men and they're stuck in my head and consuming my every waking thought and I'm not okay because they're not okay.