#love love love the way they have the exact same move

[connorsui]

“ Irresistibly Drawn ”

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Satoru is usually unfazed by the world around him, but now he finds himself obsessed with you, torn between playful teasing and a deepening affection.

Genre/warnings: fluff is so soft, light Jealousy on gojos part, playful banter ,unspoken feelings, pining, gojos six eyes are constantly looking at you with hearts all over

Note: suguru lowkey would be a good bf

w.c: 1.5K

It was a peculiar thing, the way Satoru Gojo found himself inexorably drawn to you. A man of unparalleled talent, charisma, and presence, he was rarely one to be captivated by anything that did not directly challenge him. Yet here he was, seated in his usual spot in the back of Yaga's class, his cerulean eyes drifting toward you like the moon tugs at the tide.

You sat just a few rows ahead, head slightly tilted in concentration, your brow furrowed as you absorbed Yaga’s lesson. For the life of him, Satoru couldn’t tell you what the class was about. Not because he couldn’t, but because it didn’t matter. Nothing in that moment mattered except the way you were lost in thought. He felt a strange satisfaction in knowing you were this focused on something, but all he could think about was how lovely you looked—how the sunlight spilling through the window softly illuminated the curve of your cheek, the strands of your hair that framed your face.

He leaned back in his chair, one long leg casually crossing over the other, as if utterly indifferent to the world. Yet beneath the veneer of laid-back carelessness was a growing restlessness, an unfamiliar tension that knotted in his chest. Why were his eyes always drawn to you? Why did it bother him when Suguru leaned in close to offer you help, his warm laugh filling the room as you fumbled through the training exercises?

Satoru had never considered himself jealous. Jealousy was a weakness, and he was anything but weak. But when Suguru’s hand had brushed yours that day, when he'd caught you mid-stumble with an effortless grace, a smile playing on his lips, Satoru’s jaw had tightened. His fists had clenched at his sides, the itch to intervene almost unbearable. He hadn’t, of course. That wasn’t his style. But the irritation simmered beneath his calm exterior, the feeling foreign and unwelcome. That even his own six eyes grew in irritation.

She wouldn't choose suguru over us would she?

He's a certified pretty boy on both ends of the spectrum losing to him would feel worse than anything we have dealt with

Not unless we get to her first

Are we seeing the exact same thing?

Her heart is increasing

Let's just play it safe…for now ..

That evening, he’d found himself sprawled on his dorm bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the scene in his mind. Why did it bother him so much? Why was it Suguru’s grin, your laughter, the brief contact of your hands that haunted him?

When Yaga had offhandedly commented on Satoru’s distraction during class—teasingly suggesting that someone had “taken up residence in his mind”—it was like a light had flickered on in the darkest corners of his consciousness. The realization hit him all at once, as sudden and unavoidable as a torrent breaking a dam. It wasn’t jealousy he felt.

It was something much worse. He was smitten.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, the invincible prodigy, was utterly and hopelessly smitten with you. And it terrified him.

The next morning, he woke with a pounding heart, the memory of Yaga’s teasing and his own restless thoughts gnawing at him. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t think straight. Suguru’s knowing laughter had echoed in his ears after he’d confided in him, and though Satoru had laughed it off, the weight of it sat heavy in his chest. There was only one way to settle this.

So when he spotted you after class, your figure small and unassuming as you descended the steps, he found himself moving before he could think. His long strides carried him toward you, the steady thrum of his heart growing louder with each step. He felt like a fool. Satoru Gojo, who had never been nervous in his life, now felt his pulse racing, his stomach twisting with a kind of anticipation that was wholly unfamiliar.

When you finally came into view, your feet barely making a sound as you stepped lightly on the path, he stopped in his tracks. You looked up at him with those wide, curious eyes, a slight smile playing at your lips. It was the kind of smile that made something in him soften, that reminded him just how fragile this feeling was, how much power you unknowingly held over him.

“Satoru?” Your voice was gentle, laced with surprise, and it hung in the air between you both, soft like the afternoon breeze.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, words caught somewhere between his mind and lips. How could he, the one who always knew exactly what to say, find himself so completely undone in your presence?

What do we say?

Say something…

.. she's looking straight at us

For a brief moment, the idea of deflecting with one of his usual jokes crossed his mind—a laugh, a quip, something to brush this moment away. But the look in your eyes stopped him. There was a warmth, an openness, that seemed to unravel all of his carefully constructed bravado.

“I—” he began, hesitating, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

The confession felt startlingly simple, but its weight settled in the air between you, thick with unspoken meaning. You blinked, taken aback for a heartbeat…

That's the best we can come up with?

We have done better than this ..

before a smile tugged at the corners of your lips—a knowing smile, one that made his heart stutter in his chest.

“Is that so?” you asked, a light laugh escaping your lips as you tilted your head at him. “And what exactly am I supposed to make of that? Do you actually mean it, Satoru, or is this just another one of your games?”

His smirk silently returned, the familiar glint of humor and charisma flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I mean it. I don’t throw around compliments unless they’re deserved. And trust me, you’ve been distracting me all day.”

Your smile deepened, but your voice carried a playful edge as you crossed your arms. “Distracting you, huh? Should I feel honored? Or is this just your way of telling me you’ve been spacing out instead of actually ”

“Heyyyy,” he leaned in ever so slightly, the mischievous grin never leaving his face, “can you blame me thoughhh? You’re a lot easier on the eyes than whatever there is going on. Honestly, I think you’ve made my life more bearable to deal with.”

You rolled your eyes, but your expression softened in amusement. “Is that all I am to you? Just a way to pass the time?”

“Not at all,” Satoru said, and for a moment, his voice lost some of its teasing lilt. “If you must know, I’ve been thinking about you—quite a bit, actually.” His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the humor in his tone giving way to something more genuine.

I can't read to her …

Well read harder?

Her heart is steady

And her eyes are so direct to us

..Is she teasing?

There was a pause before you spoke again, the playful spark still dancing in your eyes. “Well, since you’ve been so preoccupied with me, what are you going to do about it?”

He blinked, a bit caught off guard, but quickly recovered with a low chuckle, brushing a hand through his hair as he leaned back with that signature ease. “I was thinking of taking you out far with me …something to ease up our little life into something far more exciting..maybe some fun in the city?”

“Hmm,” you mused, feigning thoughtfulness. “And what makes you think I’d accept such an offer?”

Satoru grinned, the confidence returning full force as he straightened up. “Cmoonn you really going to say no to me?, your favorite? —letting go of such an offer as my wallet in your hands?”

You shook your head, laughing softly at his audacity, but there was a flicker of excitement in your smile. “Alright then, why don’t you meet me outside the tech’s gates later? And we’ll see if you can keep me as entertained in person as you claim.”

Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features, but he quickly masked it with his usual bravado. “Wait, you mean today? ...Like, today today?”

You giggled, taking a step back, your laughter light as it filled the space between you. “Yes, today. If you really mean what you say, I’d love to see you try.”

This is working

How is this working?

Don't question it

He felt his heart skip, his usual mask slipping for a moment as something warmer, more real, surfaced beneath the swagger. “Then I guess I’ll have to bring my A-game. But don’t think I’ll let you win so easily. I’ve still got a reputation to uphold.”

You turned with a playful smile, your voice drifting back to him as you walked away. “Oh, don’t worry, Gojo. I’m expecting a challenge.”

He watched you leave, his grin widening as a thought flickered in his mind—perhaps, just this once, losing wouldn’t be so bad.

Listen I just want a smitten gojo who wants us internally ...mmhkay?

[moonstruckme]

Hi! My inbox is being evil again (it's trying to keep us apart!) and temporarily deleting the exact requests I want to find, so here's a copy+paste of the request I got and thank you so much anon :)

could you do a james x fem!reader where he helps her through a particularly bad panic attack and then just cuddles her and grounds her again? i get them all the time and the thought of the comfort just makes me feel better :,)

cw: modern au, panic attack

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 730 words

James knows it’d be no help to tell you how scared these attacks make him, but they do make him very scared. He imagines it’s not too different from your reasoning right now; he knows, ultimately, that you’ll be alright, but the thought doesn’t provide as much comfort as it should when he’s watching you with your breaths coming quick and short and your nails digging into your own palm like you can hurt yourself worse on the surface that whatever’s doing this to you. 

He starts there. Takes your hand and uncurls your fingers, threading them through his. 

“You’re okay,” he tells you, sitting on the coffee table with his knees touching yours. He shuts the computer on your lap, easing it out of your grip to move it away. “Take a breath, sweetheart.” 

If you can still hear him you show no sign of it. A tear forms in the corner of your eye, falling when you blink. He can feel your heartbeat jumping where the base of his palm rests over your wrist. 

“Can I give you a hug?” 

There, a slight nod. James curls towards you eagerly, if a bit awkwardly, his knees on either side of your thighs and sitting a bit taller than you while he rubs your back. He makes big, sweeping circles, hoping to lull you with the slow pattern. Tears slug down your cheeks in curved lines, his shirt collecting their damp masses. 

“It’ll pass, angel. It always does, yeah? I know it feels like it’s not going to get better, but it will. You’re doing so good. So, so good, my love.” 

Your breath wheezes slightly on the way in, evidence of your diligent efforts, and when it comes out a low, pained sound comes with it. James feels it deep in his throat. He increases his pressure on your back. 

“Is this okay?” he worries, then feels shitty. You’re hardly up for questioning right now. He tries to sound certain. “Focus on my hand, angel. You’re okay, I’ve got you. Take a big breath for me.” 

He feels you try, your little sob when it doesn’t go as deep as either of you want. 

“I can’t—” 

“You can, it’s alright. You’re already doing so much better, see? It’s going away.” 

This one is worse than some of the others James has sat through with you. It seems to take ages for your breathing to slow down, and a while after that until he feels your heart find a somewhat normal rhythm under his palm. 

He knows you’re with him, more present, when you move your legs to give him easier access to you. James adjusts eagerly, giving you a proper hug. Your crying is less stilted now. He never thought he’d be so relieved to hear you sniffle and weep on his shoulder. 

“There you are,” he sighs, holding you tight. “You did it, sweetheart.” 

“James,” you whimper. 

“I know, but you’re okay. Keep breathing nice and deep,” he reminds you, worried another one will start up. “You made it. Now all you have to do is take it easy for a while.” 

“Thank you.” Your voice is a soft, small thing. It encourages James back from you, though only far enough to see your face. One tear hangs from your bottom lashes like a dewdrop from a petal. When he kisses beneath your eye it transfers to his skin. 

“No thanks necessary.” He kisses you on your other cheek, just to make it even. “You did all the hard work yourself.” 

“Still,” you say, a bit wobbly, “thanks.” 

James frowns. He allows himself to stop rubbing that same endless circle on your back, brushes a piece of hair away from your face. “Anytime,” he tells you sincerely. 

The worst of your crying seems over, but the look you give him suggests you might start again. James likes to think of himself as a man unafraid of tears and strong emotions; he’ll let you cry all night if that’s what you need. Still, he’d prefer to avoid it. 

“How do you feel?” he asks quickly. “Do you want some water? We could go for a walk, it might help to be outside.” 

You don’t want to do either of those, but you do consent to another hug. Which, really, is a better outcome than he’d dared to hope for. 

[sturnsdarling]

teenage dirtbags, introduction

Skater!Matt needs help with his essay, and Overachiever!reader is the smartest girl on campus

vibe check: enemies(?) to lovers au, childhood acquaintances, no warnings this is just a blurb to set up the vibes.

1k words

A/N: This is just the intro to what I plan on being at least a five part series. I don't ship blair and dan but lowkey this is them (i've fallen down an edit rabbit hole and now i kinda ship them lol)

love and cigs, merc

You and Matt had never really liked each other, you were completely different people, and despite going through every grade together, and somehow ending up at the same college, you definitely wouldn't classify yourself as friends, or even acquaintances. Honestly, you couldn't stand him, with his boyish charm, eye watering smile and breezy attitude, he was insufferable.

Matt was interesting, to say the least. You never saw him without his head phones in and feet planted firmly on his skateboard. His wardrobe seemed to consist solely of dirty band tees, cargos that didn't fit him and beat up sneakers. He was the furthest thing from a scholar, his idea of an extra curricular activity being how many screws he could loosen in the Deans office before the man had a brain haemorrhage over his chair or desk falling apart every other day. Every grade he got was just above average, 'consistently uninspiring', as he called it, and despite the fact that he was actually quite smart, he never wanted to be anything other than exactly that, average.

You on the other hand, we're almost the exact opposite. Your grades were the highest in the entire college, the best they'd seen in years, actually. You ran multiple clubs, were the president of not one, but two societies; philosophy and classic literature; and tutored everyone from under to postgrads. You were clean cut and classic, pleated skirts with knee high socks and a collared shirt, tucked under a vintage sweater was your personal uniform; you looked as smart as you were. You were every schools dream, painfully smart and ridiculously driven, everyones favourite over achiever. From the bows in your hair, to the Plato or Dostoyevski tucked in your arms, all the way down to your vintage platform loafers, you were extraordinary.

The day it all started,

Your books were tucked neatly in size order against your chest, hair tucked behind your ears and knee socks tight against the bottom of your thighs as you headed to your second lecture of the day. The halls of the literature building were as busy as you'd expect it to be on a Wednesday, filled with people all going about their days and trying to sound as smart as possible in front of their new pretentious friends.

The sound of skateboard wheels against the brown linoleum echoed behind you, followed by the huffs and puffs of said pretentious people.

Matt rode through the halls, swerving through the students with ease as he tried to catch up with you, eyes trained on the way your hips moved in your pleated skirt. He called your name, and the sound of his voice made your eyes roll to the back of your head, so you kept walking.

Matt picked up his speed, pushing off with his leg to reach you. he called your name again, this time as he pulled up next to you, kicking his board up and holding it in his hand, jogging slightly to walk shoulder to shoulder with you.

"you walk way too fast" Matt said, only slightly breathless.

"people tend to do that when they have somewhere to be" you said, attitude thick in your voice as you kept your eyes trained on your destination.

Matt was looking at you, grinning at your consistency in hating him.

"where ya headed?" He said, stepping in front of you with a light jog, walking backwards and finally gaining your eye contact.

You huffed, a faux smile forming on your face in response to his cheesy grin.

"what do you want, Matt" you said, continuing your pace and slightly impressed at Matts ability to walk backwards without bumping into anyone.

"how do you know I want something?" Matt shrugged, squinting his eyes at you in bashful accusation.

"because we haven't had a conversation in... three years? and you look like you want something" You stopped walking, tilting your head to the side, "so what is it?" you looked him up and down quickly.

Matt pressed his tongue to his teeth with a smile, stopping in front of you, "I need your head"

Your face screwed up instantly, "I beg your pardon?" you scoffed.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, "not like that, I mean, I need your brain"

You cocked your eyes to the side, waiting for him to say words that actually made sense, "I'm gonna need a bit more clarity than that, Matt"

"I need your help with an essay" Matt said, biting his plump lip slightly with pleading eyes.

"no" you shook your head with a scoff, stepping out from his figure blocking your path and continuing your stride down the hall.

"come on, y/l/n, please?" He jogged after you, "I'm desperate", gently pressing his shoulder against yours.

"why would I ever help you?" you scoffed, looking straight ahead and ignoring the sentiment of him still calling you by your last name after all these years.

"cause I'm desperate" Matt was looking at your profile, repeating his earlier claim, "and we're friends"

you scoffed again, "we are not friends, Matt" you said, rolling your eyes.

Matt searched his brain for an example of your friendship but came up blank, "okay, fine, we're not friends" he grinned, "but we've known each other forever and.... it's nice to help people" it was the only thing he could think of.

You ignored him, shaking your head with an uncontrollable smile attempting to form on your face at his persistence. Matt continued to walk with you, begging, pleading and saying your last name over and over again like an irritating child, telling you that you're the smartest person he knows, and that he'll fail without your help.

"whats the essay on" you rolled your eyes, giving in and looking to him.

"existentialism" Matt said, his ears perking up at your interest.

You huffed, stopping once more. People continued to rush past you and Matt as you stood face to face in the centre of the hall.

"if I help you, you'll leave me alone?" You questioned.

"absolutely" Matt nodded

you rolled your tongue over your teeth, deadpanning at Matt.

"fine" you said, bluntly.

"yes!" Matt cheesed, "you are an angel sent from heaven, thank you"

"come to my dorm tonight, seven o'clock and we'll get started" blatantly ignoring his compliment.

"I'll be there" Matt said, placing his board on the floor.

"it's the franklin building, room three, if you cant find it then i'l-" The sound of Matts wheels rolling away cut you off.

"i'll just follow the smell of vanilla and academic overachievement, I'll find you" Matt said from over his shoulder, skating away from you down the hall.

You rolled your eyes as you watched him weave in and out of students, dropping out of sight as he rode his board down the flight of stairs to the exit.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour

[thegoogoomuckkk]

NOW PLAYING

LATE

Starring: Choso Kamo

Choso's a simple man with simple desires, & a morning meeting with Gojo & Yaga doesn't typically fit into those desires. . .not when he wakes up to you in his bed

Warnings! fem!reader, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, praise

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Choso’s biggest complaint about humans is that they’re all so complicated. He thinks he’s a simple guy, & he is. He eats the same thing for breakfast every morning, he tells Yuji the same thing before every mission (“Be safe, & be smart”), he gets ready in the exact same order everyday, & he loves his girlfriend. 

Truly, it’s that simple. He’s that simple. 

But when you tell him that you think you “wanna move in with you, Cho. Then we can be together everyday. When you come home from missions, or hanging out with Yuji, I’ll be there,” it throws him off. Not that he’s complaining, but it’s Thursday morning, he needs to leave in 10 minutes, & yet here he is, lying in bed with you still, tracing patterns on your shoulder, admiring your soft snores that you swear don’t exist, & he just can’t find it in himself to get up.

He never would’ve allowed anything to distract him from his job, from his purpose, so why can’t he get out of bed & start getting ready? Why can’t he seem to find the will to leave you? & furthermore, why on earth would he ever want to leave you? He doesn’t spend too much time pondering it; all these complicated questions leave his head spinning. He’s accepted the fact that he isn’t here to be a genius, he isn’t half-human to be the smartest guy around. As long as he’s fighting curses, protecting those he cares about, & loving his girlfriend the way she deserves, nothing else really matters, right? 

You’re just so vulnerable like this. Some deep, dark instinct in his brain is telling him to stay with his woman, protect her, make her happy. Of course, he doesn’t need caveman intellect to encourage these thoughts, Choso will do anything to make you happy. Even be late to a meeting with Gojo & Yaga. 

“Morning, pretty,” he murmurs against the nap of your neck, trying to be subtle in the way he grinds his crotch against your ass. But you'd sang this song & danced this dance more mornings than you could count. 

“Cho, you have to go to work.” Of course, you would decide to be reasonable right now, right when he needed you, needed to feel you, needed to taste you. He wasn’t trying to be a tease or a flirt, but you second guessed that when he trailed delicate kisses, with both his lips & his eyelashes from the bottom of your jaw to the base of your neck, to the valley between your breasts, to your navel, down your stomach until he reached the silk line of your panties. He looked up at you, begging for permission, & the answer you gave him was hooking your fingers under your panties & pulling them down to your ankles. He wastes no time in burying his face into your pretty pussy: kittenlicking your folds, pressing chaste kisses all over your upper thighs, finally providing you the stimulation your body is begging for by shoving his nose into your syrupy, sweet cunt. 

You’re losing coherency, trying & failing to get through to him in any way that “yo-you’re gonna be late, Cho,” & it’s barely a whisper, some form of a whine, & damn it, he’s thinking to himself, he must not be doing a good enough job of sucking on your swollen cunt if you’re still forming sentences. 

“Don’t care.” He doesn’t even spare you a glance, too entranced by the taste of you, the smell of your perfume mixed with your arousal. 

Choso was not the type of person to call out of work, but it was after your third date, when you’d taken him home, let him finger you & sat on his dick, that he was texting Yaga at 3:00am that morning after round four that he wasn’t going to make it in. You’d scolded him for that rash decision in the ten minutes it took his cock to get hard again, & lost all sense of rationality after that.

He was gonna get you there, he thought; sex-brained & dumb, ‘cause that’s how he liked you best. Of course, he loves his sharp-as-a-tack girlfriend, but he loves you even more when you’re like him: zeroed in on one thing. His one thing was almost always you. He knew you would never cheat on him, but the thought of you even thinking about another man—platonically, even—made him sick. 

You're clawing at his hair, still trying to talk sense to him, but the words are lodged in your throat, replaced with moans of his name, begging; as if you'd ever have to beg, when Choso's stream of conciousness consists of two words: "please her, please her, please her, please her—"

So he’s confident, when he slides two fingers into your weeping cunt, that he’ll have his way with you this morning, send an apology to the higher-ups, & make sure his girlfriend knows how much he loves her before he leaves. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

is it obvious that i'm in love with him. . .orrrr. . . ???????

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Azkaban

Words: 993

@wolfstarmicrofic

TW: suicidal ideation in a hyperbolic way

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

The first night that Sirius spent at Remus’ cottage after being ordered to ‘lie low’ there wasn’t ideal. Nobody wanted to wake up their ex-boyfriend with their night terrors. Nobody sane, anyway. Sirius wasn’t entirely sure which side of that line he fell on anymore, but when he woke up to Remus holding him to his chest and reminding him where he was, he hated himself.

By the time they moved to Grimmauld Place, it was established that Remus would tell Sirius a story about their time at Hogwarts as he fell asleep. This helped Sirius to remember, but it also helped with the night terrors, which they both suspected were some kind of lingering effect of the dementors.

Remus had his own room at Grimmauld Place, and he usually retreated to it once Sirius had fallen asleep, even though they’d shared a bed for months before that. It helped him to keep things separate. Telling Sirius stories about their teenage selves was hard at times. Remembering James and Lily, remembering Peter and remembering how in love they’d been. He didn’t know how much Sirius remembered of their relationship, but as most of his positive memories were taken, he probably remembered a lot of the last few months and not much else. He mostly stuck to stories about James and Sirius, or the four of them.

“Tell me about us.” Sirius had whispered after a few weeks, as Remus got comfortable next to him. “I know you’ve been avoiding those stories.”

“I didn’t know if you’d want to hear them,” Remus said. “Or what you remember.”

“I remember shouting at you in the shack and there was blood, but I don’t remember why.” Sirius said, “That seems like an important one but I can’t get to most of it. Tell me that one?”

Remus chuckled, knowing the exact memory he meant. “Alright. So, this was about a month after Lily agreed to go out with James.”

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

“Moony!” Sirius sounded frantic as Remus struggled to open his eyes. “Can you hear me?”

“Unfortunately.” Remus groaned. Sirius was shirtless, and covered in blood. He looked up at Sirius, panicked. “The fuck did I do? Are you ok?”

“I can’t stop your shoulder from bleeding. What do I do? James has gone to get Madam Pomfrey but you’re —”

“Oh, it’s mine? Just leave it.” Remus’ eyes shut again, “I’ll sleep it off. It’ll be alright.”

“You can’t sleep off blood loss you unbelievable prick. Wake up!” Sirius shook his uninjured shoulder slightly, pressing his shirt against the wound on the other.

“Sirius.” Remus growled, “Shake me again and you’ll wish you were dealing with the wolf.”

“Sit up!” Sirius ignored him. “You can’t go back to sleep.”

“It’s fine.” Remus’ eyes closed again.

Sirius snapped, “It’s not fucking fine, Remus! Sit up and open your eyes.” Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist and hauled him into a sitting position before reapplying pressure to his shoulder. He felt Remus smile against his shoulder.

“If you wanted to wrap your arms around me, all you had to do is ask, Padfoot.” He said, and Sirius swore that Remus’ teeth grazed his shoulder. “I think all you can do is apply pressure and hope for the best. I’ve got a lot of blood.”

“Moony, I love you, but when you’re not bleeding profusely in my arms, I’m going to be so fucking angry with you. ‘I’ve got a lot of blood’ is not— No, you don’t. You have the same amount of blood as anyone else, you wanker. Sometimes it’s like you don’t value your life.”

Remus, half-conscious as he was, felt very called out. “My life doesn’t have much value, to be fair.”

Sirius inhaled sharply, “No. Because you don’t have people around you that would do anything for you. You’re not a fucking wizard. Your life has no value.” He said sarcastically.

“Didn’t mean it like that, Pads.” He mumbled. “Don’t.”

“Then how did you mean it?” He shouted. He would have walked out if he didn’t know that Remus wouldn’t be able to hold the shirt on his shoulder.

“Well, I love you too, by the way.” Sirius almost dropped the shirt as Remus’ eyes closed again. “When you have no choice but to turn into a monster once a month and repeatedly take chunks out of yourself, you can judge the way I cope with it. I’m in a lot of fucking pain and I just want to sleep. Thank you for helping, as always, I appreciate it. I’m just so tired.”

“No.” Sirius poked his cheek until his eyes opened again. He looked mutinous. “You're going to stay awake. I think I can hear them in the passage. Once you’re patched up, you can sleep.”

“You’re going to make me talk about this later aren’t you?” His eyes almost closed again, but he managed to open them and blink a few times.

“Of course I am.” Sirius could feel his heart pounding in his head.

"You could just focus on the love part, and not the hyperbolically suicidal part, if you wanted.”

“We’ll see.” Sirius tried so hard not to smile. “If you tell me again when I’m not covered in your blood, I’ll think about it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Remus said as Madam Pomfrey burst through the door, followed by James, who took one look at Sirius and almost threw up.

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

“So when I got out of the hospital wing, I couldn’t wait, I pulled you behind a tapestry on the way to Charms and told you I loved you again. You were still pissed off, but I convinced you that I was pretty determined to stay alive.” He looked down at Sirius who was asleep. “You don’t know how much you’ve always helped with that.”

He considered going back to his room, but eventually slipped beneath Sirius’ duvet and curled up against his back, wrapping an arm around his waist.

[asteria7fics]

Style Alternate Universe ideas that you should write because I won't get around to it.

Kyle is a disgruntled modeling scout and Stan is a handsome young man from a small town that Kyle manages to sign... For work, and no other reason. Bonus if Cartman is Kyle's boss and they have to find a way out of his grasp so they can run off into the sunset together (gay).

Stan works as a mechanic. Kyle takes his car in one day for routine maintenance, then keeps making excuses to bring his car back in just so he can see/chat with/admire Stan. Bonus if Stan secretly keeps fucking Kyle's car up a little bit to get him back into the shop for the exact same reasons.

Kyle is a therapist with Stan as a client (for depression? Alcoholism? Hoarding? Take your pick), and slowly falls in love with him even though he knows it's horrible and wrong. Bonus if Stan ends their professional relationship before Kyle can and then turns around and asks Kyle to coffee. What a loser. Also I might actually write this one shhhh don't tell anybody.

Stan is the coach for the local high school's football team, and a new student joins the team; the eldest son of a recently divorced Kyle. Bonus points if Stan silently pines for Kyle, assuming he isn't into guys, but Kyle makes the first move.

...or something. I dunno.

[l0stfoster]

Hello!! I recently became obsessed with the Cursed Tulsa AU, I'm still new to it though. As a Two Bit fan, I was just wondering more about the details of his jumping I guess. Was Paul involved? If so, how did Darry feel when he found that out. (Sorry if I'm getting things confused or anything) so many accounts are posting stuff like that but could we please get some headcannons if you have time :) keep making more Tulsa cursed aus!

Hey! Glad you're enjoying the AU so far >:) You're not confusing anything, and I'd love to give you the little bits and details.

Details of Two's Jumping

- Two's jumping is fully based on the musical's depiction, so all of it is taken from there; I'd go far enough to say that you could look at my Justice for Tulsa animatic and re-work it with the Cursed. - To summarize, Two-Bit had just been walking home, I like to imagine he'd been called in for police questioning late in the day; which is why he'd been out and about around the time that the socs had chosen to gather to mourn Bob. He could've flown home if he'd gotten out sooner, but flying at night was something his mom had always nagged him for; so he'd tried avoiding it. The second the socs had their sights on him he did attempt to fly away, but wings big enough to hold your body weight are also long enough to grab. - The only thing that really changes in the jumping is that when they hold Two down, he's on his stomach; and, well, Bev decides a good way to get the message across that Bob's death won't be easily pushed aside is to target the exact thing that kept the greasers from being anything like the socs. She hadn't originally planned to take a lighter to his wing, but watching her cigarette singe the feathers at the middle of his back sparked a thought. Marcia and Paul were the only two who didn't take some kind of sick enjoyment in it, so at least some socs have morals? - Two didn't get to run away in comparison to the musical as well, the only reason his jumping ended was because Paul redirected their focus off of Two and onto attempting to find Johnny and Pony. If they hadn't let up, I wouldn't be surprised if Bev went for both wings- something I don't doubt would've been fatal for Two-Bit for multiple reasons. She wouldn't have been intending to kill or anything but at the same time, if a human can live without wings, couldn't a harpy? (The answer is no)

Was Paul involved?

- Paul was involved, yes, but didn't really do much physically when it came down to it. I've always imagined him to be more of the leader type; the kind of person who would sit back and allow others to get their hands dirty with rare exceptions for it; such as jumping Pony at the beginning of the musical. - He'd been the one who somewhat prompted the jumping, having pointed out that Two was walking home though not making any moves himself until after the other socs had gone ahead and gotten Two-Bit held down, and even that was just the declaration of 'war'. - I've said it before, but he hadn't been in on Bev burning and mutilating Two's wing in the way that she had. He’d only caught onto what she was doing when it was actively happening, and even he thought it was pretty fucked. His avoidance of engaging in that mutilation and his lack of active physical participation is honestly the only reason why he'd even been given a chance at redemption by the greasers, let alone a chance to develop a bond with them. It was a last-minute decision but I think it works so much better with his character. - He’s cursed too, whether he knows it or not while all this is going down, and so I think he’d have a subconscious aversion to directly harming the greasers in a way that involves their own curses— something that contrasts the other sods in how they’ve muzzled Soda before or how they end up fucking up Two’s wing. Even then, he’d had some real heavy denial about loving a fae at one point. - Keep in mind that I’m absolutely not defending his actions or behavior pre-redemption, he’s still a very flawed person who despite having societal pressures shoved down his throat still chose to behave as he did. I think it’s just important to clarify that to make it easy to understand how he’d been able to be redeemed and why he isn’t as villainized as Bev is during the jumping. Paul was remorseful, but Bev was not.

How does Darry react?

- Raw anger is almost good enough of a descriptor, but at the same time, even rage doesn't even begin to describe how Darry feels hearing about Two's jumping and Paul's involvement with it. He knew they left off on a bad note with a lot of tension, but to think that Paul would target someone that not only Darry had expressed a lot of care for but also one that Paul himself had been friendly with for a while was unbelievable. The only thing that stops Darry from acting on his anger automatically is that he can't do anything drastic with two kid brothers under his care. - Despite Two not telling anyone anything, they could easily guess who was involved when they saw select socs with Two's feathers. Paul being the leader type is a majority of the reason as to why Darry blames what happens to Two on him. - It's probably good to note that Darry had no idea Paul wasn't the one who burned him, as Two-Bit avoided sharing any details of it like the plague due to being so upset about his wing and how "ugly" it made him- but he'd assumed that the second he'd found out what happened due to their already negative relationship. It's simultaneously karma and unfortunate for Paul- cause yeah, he did prompt the jumping and was a total ass pre-rumble, but all of the anger was directed at just him instead of including any of the other socs that were there that night; save for Bev with Ace (and Two).

[thecircularlibrary]

helooooo

i love your writing!!

can u pls do a lyrason as parents one shot?

tyyy

aw thank you <3 here you go!!!!

oh darling don't you ever grow up

Grayson x Lyra

warnings: n/a

words: 1135

border credit: @strangergraphics-archive

Gianna Annelise Hawthorne was the most beautiful thing Grayson had ever laid eyes on. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of holding his daughter for the first time. Lyra was looking up at him, and no matter how much other people might say she was a mess, to him, she was glowing. He looked into Gianna’s brown eyes and he saw nothing but her mother in them, in every single way that mattered. Her tiny hand grabbed his finger and he lifted it and kissed it, promising her that he’d be there. Promising her that he’d care, that she’d never have to feel what he and his brothers had felt.

Lyra’s mom told the nurse to open the door and let in Grayson’s family. The sudden cacophony of sounds that entered the serene room should’ve been something Grayson anticipated, but he didn’t. Gigi, Avery, and Savannah went to Lyra’s side as his brothers went to his. Nash was the first to hold her. Jameson was the first to cry.

✠⚞☀⚟✠

“Sweetheart, you can sit on the counter while I make breakfast, but if you do, it has to be over there,” Grayson pointed to the actual counter, not the island where Gia had been seated 3 minutes ago. He was making waffles; past-tense. Present-tense, Grayson was covered in flour. His five-year-old daughter was giggling as he picked her up and moved her. 

“Grayson, have you seen my—Oh!” Lyra covered her face in a laugh before walking over to Gia. 

“Gia…what did you do?” Lyra was giggling the exact same laugh as their daughter. Meanwhile, Grayson was still covered in flour. He looked at her, completely deadpan.

“Oh, is something funny?”

Lyra covered her face with her hand, but Grayson could still see a smile in her eyes.

“Nope. Nothing funny here. In fact, this is very serious and I think it calls for an emergency DoorDash order,” Lyra was fighting to keep a straight face in her jeans and graphic tee—the pro of working as a Google software engineer was that she could dress functionally without needing to dress seriously. Grayson had to remind himself to stop thinking about her clothes by looking at the half-mixed waffle batter (which they no longer had enough flour to finish) and then looking at his daughter.

“Yes it does. In fact, it sounds like an emergency IHOP order. For two,” Grayson raised his eyebrows at his wife who was still trying to keep a straight face. They both avoided looking at their daughter who had gasped at Grayson’s words.

“Daddy, I want waffles too,” she said quietly. She was a very soft-spoken child and she rarely yelled. The softness of the statement made his heart melt. Even though Lyra was usually the first to cave, Grayson lost this battle.

✠⚞☀⚟✠

“You aren’t wearing that.”

When Grayson was old enough to have kids, he had told himself that he would just let them make their own decisions about what they wore to school. Especially because he already knew he was going to put them in Heights Country Day as soon as they were old enough (the ninth grade). And he really wanted to stand by that decision.

Until his daughter tried to go to her first day of eighth grade in a mini skirt. A Lululemon mini skirt. 

“But Dad, I have tennis after school today and it’s literally a tennis skirt. It saves me so much time if I don’t have to change,” said Gia. She looked exasperated and tired of her father.

“You also have ballet after school some days but I don’t see you wearing a leotard and tights to school on those days, now do I?” This time, it was Lyra that had spoken. “I’ve had long conversations with you about what you can wear to school versus what you should wear to school and I want you to guess where this one falls.”

“Ugh.”

“Answer, Gianna Annelise.”

“Under what I can and not what I should…” Gianna sighed.

“Exactly,” Grayson said. Before he could continue, Lyra shot him a look.

“Please change, Gia,” Lyra pleaded.

“Okay Mom.” Gia walked back upstairs and to her room.

“Mom? I’m the one who told her to change?” Grayson stood confused by the stairs.

“Girls tend to listen to their moms, Gray. It’s nothing personal, I promise,” Lyra said as she patted his cheek and went outside to start the car. He shook his head and questioned how he got lucky enough to have a daughter that was exactly like his wife.

✠⚞☀⚟✠

“Dad! I’m gonna be late if we don’t hurry! I have to get to the tryout clinic early so I can learn the routine early so I can teach it so they can consider me for captain!” Gianna was standing by the door in cheer shorts and a shirt, ready for her junior year cheer tryouts. Grayson was still getting his shoes on.

“I’ll be right there, Gia, it’ll be alright. You’re the best one there so I’m sure they’ll pick you anyways.”

“Thank you, Dad, but that isn’t true. Besides, even if it was, that’s not enough. I need to show leadership and commitment. And I can’t do that if I’m late!” Gianna lost her soft-spoken nature when she got older.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready, let’s go,” Grayson grabbed his keys and went to leave.

“Wait, Dad!”

Grayson whipped around.

“Yes, Gia?”

Gianna grinned.

“Can I drive?”

✠⚞☀⚟✠

Years later, when Grayson was making a senior video for Gianna’s final cheer banquet, he remembered her tiny hands on the day she was born. He remembered her curly hair that bounced as he moved her from counter to counter when he tried to make breakfast in the morning. He remembered her personality growing more and more like her mothers as she grew up. He also remembered things like her joy the first time she did a tumbling pass. Her face when she was fitted for her first pair of pointe shoes. The grin she had when she won her first doubles match. 

He remembered Gianna’s first homecoming and how her cousin Hannah had insisted on Lyra and Avery making them mums. He remembered, specifically, Lyra’s struggle and the way it had been worth it when he and Jameson got to take pictures of their daughters next to each other at their last homecoming. This time, Grayson cried first. 

When she cheered her last football game. When she danced her last Nutcracker with her ballet company. When she played her last doubles match, and won. These memories and their subsequent tears tore through Grayson’s mind. All of Gianna’s lasts. All the things she wouldn’t experience again.

So when he finished the slideshow and needed to pick a song, he knew exactly which one to pick.

[bourbon-ontherocks]

# Morgane & Céline x Downing other people's wine HPI: HAUT POTENTIEL INTELLECTUEL S02 E08 Serendipity / S03 E02: 18 Carats

[perilegs]

my sweet little baby man is no longer with us

[lessnowon]

anyways, i'm just dropping by to say fuck jk rowling and that snape being romantically in love with lily is really stupid when it would be more narratively and thematically consistent (and, frankly, more compelling) if his love for her was familial

[july-19th-club]

one thing that is so genius on a craft level with the broken earth books is that the derogatory for 'orogene' is - That Way - on 100% purpose. you're supposed to feel like it's not a word to say out loud, it's supposed to be uncomfortably similar to words you've already heard and know as cruel slurs in the real world. it's a direct fucking parallel designed to deliberately give the reader that crawling feeling and it works so well i dont even feel right typing it up for a post

[synchlora]

something to be said abt a foster pleading for anyone to adopt their extremely sweet and playful disabled tabby cat for over a year with absolute Crickets in response vs us making one post at 8pm with a frankly very poorly taken photo of a cute no-personality fluffy white kitten we have (who's not even been here 3 days!) and we have 45 comments within the hour and three of our adoption people with their phones blowing up

[apolohgy]

hello beautifuls, i got a job offer last week in [redacted] and i’m so grateful and excited to be… making money again! and to finally have my own place and fix it up to my taste and get 2 cats 🥹 there’s a job in [redacted] w the same exact salary range and i’m really hoping i get it bc it’s a much more desirable hot girl walkable city. my final interview for that job is next wednesday send hot girl city job offer vibes my way pls

[bitchthefuck1]

one thing about me is that I'm never not gonna be obsessed with soulmates as a horror concept