#obvs im like
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i knew that wkx is callous and cruel in guzhu mode but these past few days i spent time seeing it in slowmotion because im gathering material for my wip. combing through these scenes with wkx and the ghost valley women is really tough. hes so mean, hes such an asshole, hes such a jerk. and its so intriguing and gutpunching because these are moments when he starts out alone, drinking or being tended to by a servant, introspective. lqq or lfm or gu xiang join him, and theyre in an entirely different mood, and they need something from him in some way. theyre putting their own vulnerability on display, theyre reaching out a hand to him. and he ,, doesnt handle it well.
there is this scene with lfm when they share a moment of genuine connection and tell each other of their thoughts and intentions. and even though wkx is more open here, even though this is after he has been domesticated by being around his a-xu and looking after zcl, a ghost remembering being human, and even though hes telling lfm of his original plan for the jianghu in order to make her understand his growth, that he has seen the error of his ways, it still shakes her up, and his willingness to listen to her advise doesnt seem enough to smooth things over so fast.
i dont know where im going with this, just that wkx has this pattern in how he behaves around others who have the unfortunate luck to be listening to him, and it transitions from different shades of distrust and disbelief to open disgust and bitterness, and it always has him fall into cussing out the people in power who hurt him, and it never fails to take a toll on those listening. hes not emotionally available when like this, and you can see how hard it is for those around to reach him
#my thoughts#my fmv#wen kexing#women of ghost valley#liu qianqiao#gu xiang#luo fumeng#word of honor#obvs im like#skipping over stuff#wkx is a multifacetted creature and his#relationships with these women cant be#reduced to just this#that scene im mentioning with lfm has many different elements too#aside from what im remarking upon#its just that im seeing a parallel her#e#a thread that connects all these scenes with each other#its fascinating seeing it back to back#going through all these scenes directly one after another#(i could be completely wrong about why lfm is exiting the stage too#i didnt look at the dialogue im just going off body language here)
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ok i finally get why everyone fucking loves law it's cause every time the straw hats do literally anything they cut back to him making this EXACT face
#im going to throw up laughing its so funny i need to find a screenshot. EDIT SCREENSHOT NOW IN NOTES LOL#like obvs i knew he's a fan fave but this is actually extremely funny. guy who is the barometer of normal behavior compared to everyone els#but who is also fucked up and skewed in his own way#trafalgar law#one piece
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how seb and clora get together in my fic 💕bc what better time and place to confess and share your first kiss than around a bunch of inferi + the dead body of a man you just killed?? 🥰💖
#and they say romance is dead#i remember how excited i was when brainstorming this scene LOL im still so happy with it/how i wrote it and glad i finally drew it#when i got the idea of seb using the relic to make an inferi army and save her BAHHA like...i get it clora. i get it.😔✊#id ALSO confess on the spot after seeing that LMAO like it could have been ANY man at that point and id be like... marry me???#obvs i had to shorten it and cut out some stuff BUT i got the gist of the scene#sad i didnt manage to include some stuff but it would have ruined the flow.....c'est la vie#god they really just make out for the entire beginning of that chapter tho LMFAOO god i had so much fun writing and posting every week#those early fandom days........(sighs wistfully and stares out the window like an old man)#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x oc#hogwarts legacy sebastian#sebastian x mc#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#clora clemons#choccyart#victor rookwood
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i'm ready to try
#This drawing is kind of personal to me#I recently graduated (CUM LAUDE WOOOO!!!!) and its like. not to get depressing#but when i was younger i was never sure whether i would make it to this point#When i was going through what i consider to still be like. the worst time of my entire life#This fictional character was there for me and she was something for me to latch onto and cope with#eGem helped me a lot with being able to process my emotions at the time but also helped me to reflect on myself#which i think is a big reason as to why I'm really happy with where i am with myself right now#I'm going off to uni next school year to study astronomy!!! which!!!#Im also doing because of eGem!!! She ignited this kind of childlike wonder for space for me#I love doing math and physics and whilst Im still a bit scared because. honestly i don't know whether this is what i want to do with my lif#I think i'll be okay either way#either way i wanted to draw egem again even if i haven't done so in a while because its like#i think i wouldnt be who i am without her. i think i'd be a lot worse off#so like. thank you empires smp thank you geminitay thank you egem This drawing is me expressing my gratitude#AND THANK YOU AUTISM!#empires smp#empires smp s1#empiresblr#esmp#geminitay#art#fanart#alice.art#mcyt#mcytblr#song is andromeda by weyes blood... obv.. you guys know me by now :oP
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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.
#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3#i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother#i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u#but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it#and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child#im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#gojo fluff#geto fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#……… thats… a lot of tags.
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Fanfiction is great because I'm a greedy slut that wants it all. Nothing you could ever give me in a TV show would achieve the high I get when I've got 13 au's all on the go at once with bonus fanart on the side, like the most luxurious multiple course meal with wine pairings curated just to my taste
#fans do it best thats all im saying#obvs we need the source material but theres nothing like thousands of people on the same bandwagon of imagination#fanfiction#ao3#text
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LIKE ESP DURING THE CHANGELING PARTS OH MY GODDD
I just appreciate their dynamic oh so much and can go on about how much I adore em RAHHHHH I love girldad Chilchuck so much I'm so glad its canon
I need to draw them again oh my godddd I need them being each other's shitty wingmen as well holy shit lmfao
#i will not take criticism teehee#dunmeshi#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#chilchuck tims#chilchuck#marcille donato#marcille#hate to break it but i do not like them as a ship at all so#probs wanna dni if you do ship em if im bein honest#theyre just very father daughter coded to me#I OBV RESPECT OTHER INTERPRETATIONS#but yknow#haysprite
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So like, y'all know that popular Star Wars fic trope of Time Traveling Obi-Wan Kenobi where he dies and then wakes up in his 11ish year old body back in the Jedi Temple? You know how usually he wakes up, has a few minutes/hours of confusion, and then goes about trying to act like he was at age 11 while slowly fixing everything wrong with the Jedi Order? Personally I think he would not do that.
I think that Ben "Lived As A Wizard Hermit For Two Decades On Tattooine, Left, And Then Died Immediately" Kenobi would wake up as an eleven-year-old, have a panic attack, attack the nearest adult Jedi while accusing them of Doing Weird Sith Shit To His Brain, fucking flee, only then realize he has time traveled, steal someone's ship, go flying out of the temple to god knows where, continue panicking, crash into a random moon while distracted, nearly die, build a survival camp out of his broken ass ship and eat whatever bugs he can find, get kidnapped by pirates, overthrow said pirates, steal their ship, and then very calmly return to the Jedi temple like nothing happened.
Then and only then do I think he would start trying to act like a normal human person (while also dodging questions such as "what the fuck was that" and "where were you" and "is that a pirate's ship?"), except he'd be bad at it due to having lived as an Insane Wizard Desert Hermit for the past twenty years who has experienced enough trauma and time that he doesn't super well remember the details of his childhood, what with all of the wars and death and wars and such.
His acting convinces nobody, but nobody is sure what exactly to do about All Of That so he's for the most part left alone (after very vehemently refusing sptherapy), all the way up until he catches a glimpse of palpatine out of the corner of his eye and then its On Sight
#mads posts#star wars#obi-wan kenobi#specifically i see fics where he gets blasted back to the past and he genuinely acts like he's 11 or whatever age again#and im like NO thats some fuckin weirdo inhabiting the body of an eleven year old#thats a fiftyish year old dude who looks eighty and thinks the best way to train Newly Discovered Force-Sensitive Luke is to blindfold and#shoot at him#he spent twenty years fucking around in a desert and left the planet one (1) time to go rescue leia#he cannot in any way act like a normal child are you kidding me#he was only ever 'normal' during the clone wars because he was standing next to Anakin 'hey watch this' skywalker#actually i think if obi wan were to try to act like a normal kid of the age he appears he would either wildly over or undershoot#he'd be like. huge eyes and babytalk and innocent expressions OR he'd forget he doesn't alr know the nuances of the Alderaanian government#but he couldnt pull off 'totally normal guy dont mind me'#obi wan doesnt manage to oneshot palpatine btw. that would be too boring#he steals the nearest available lightsaber and Goes For It and obv is stopped due to being shaped like a baby and having the strength of on#and then again refuses to answer any questions
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Hello you had a dc era? I need more of your Batfamily they’re so delicious! Also happy birthday
i'm always in my dc era deep down, but my absolute Peak batfam/dc phase was when batgirl of burnside and grayson were running so in honour of tweenage me, Them:
(commission info // tip jar!)
#ONCE AGAIN IM SORRY IM ONLY ANSWERING THIS LIKE A MONTH AFTER MY BIRTHDAY THANK YOU BTW!!#basically young justice had an absolute CHOKEHOLD on me (robin/nightwing was obvs my fave) n then i got to comic buying age and yh#batgirl of burnside is like one of THE most formative pieces of media ever for me i don't think i'd be making comics if i'd never read it#anyway yeah im always in my dc era if someone says batfam or the flash (OR HAL/BARRY HIII) i am THERE i am SAT i am SEATED#dick grayson#batgirl#barbara gordon#agent grayson#dc#my doods#thanks for the ask!#askbox closed#batfam
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pelican town, ‘72
#stardew valley#stardew valley spoilers#sdv#sdv spoilers#grandpa#mister qi#mr. qi#idk how dates work in stardew universe im just bullshittin#i love qi’s huge fucking eyebrows you dont notice them at first but theyre there#(gives our collective grandpa a ponytail) i think he had one. whatever#’why isnt mister qi blue’ my hc is he is blue from long-term iridium supplementation#and was originally just a regular person#but also it’s nice to see ur fav be like a normal human color#if u read tag essays tho consider this:#qi discovers secret to immortality (consuming iridium in a specific manner)#wants to share discovery with his farmer (player’s grandpa) and in that way. they will have all the time in the world to build#a perfect farming/business empire whose legacy will last forever and ever and theyll be 2gether forever#but it turns out. like a lot of normal people would. his farmer does not want to live forever#and obv he doesn’t#in an attempt to try not to ever lose the thing that means more to him than anything else in the world. qi inadvertantly ensures he will#because his farmer is dead. and he’s going to live forever#but. it’s kind of ok. because he has infinite money and was able to figure out how to talk to his dead bf#and now YOU help them fulfill their joint goal of making the farm’s legacy last forever#smile. heart#sobbing
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very pickuppable yes yes
its very easy to demand attention when u can physically remove ur object of affection away from their work. whos going to stop you from being a spoiledt brat?
bonus: being bossy has its perks
#superbat#clark kent#superman#bruce wayne#batman#clark waking up in a cold sweat: 'im not being CODDLED rn!!!!!!!!!!!'#he is obv more composed about it. hes a grown man#but he is a man who has unlimited power and speed at his disposal. and he will do whatever it takes to get what he wants#it doesnt take much convincing. like. ever#bruce can be swayed very very easily and he has very little shame about it#unrelated to allat#but clark is 6' even he just looks so small next to bruce and diana#EDIT: i did NOT like how small the image was so i tweaked it and removed the readmore#incase someone saw this before the tweak and wanted to be nosy about what changed LOL
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it is not even funny how down bad i am for her. it is so dire
#a bestie gave me a copy of violet they weren't using anymore#obvs smitten by rika too like everyone bc im a bisexual with eyeballs#pokemon#pokemon sv#champion geeta#art
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nothing like some rest and relaxation after a long day of travelling 😇💕 ((from my oneshot! ao3/wattpad))
#im just imagining when these two check into an inn the innkeeper is like....😒😒 cuz bro KNOWS whats coming just by looking at them#its palpable...bc theyre both way too hot and also im sure seb is just vibrating to get to their room for the night and its VERY obvs BAHAH#u aint slick bruh#yes heres your room..... its the most soundproof one🤺🤺🤺#i just rly wanted to do a smut scene where seb was still clothed esp in his damn trench coat ok!! this oneshot is so self indulgent LMAO😇#rest in peace clora#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x oc#clora clemons#choccyart
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HELL YEAH PRI(D(EMO)N)TH
#yea lydias goth not emo but a guy can dream#hiiiiiii im love them#finals are next week as soon as thats over we are BALLING.#get ready for ALL THE ART. AT LEAST UNTIL WORK STARTS FUCKING ME OVER.#my art#digital art#beetlejuice#beetlejuice the musical#bjtmtmtm#bjtm#bjtm lydia#lydia deetz#PRIDE MONTH#beetlejuice is agender + pan (and poly obv)#lydia is trans + a lesbian (still workin it out)#i wanted to do this like. a week after i posted the last one. but its pride month now#NOT beetlebabes if you tag it with that i will stab you with brain knives#pansexual#agender#lesbian#transgender
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1 like = 1 beating the triangle to death for fucking up whatever unhinged coworker/roommate/unspecified relationship these two had going on
#chappel roan casual to me#theyre t4t to me btw#gravity falls#fiddleford mcgucket#stanford pines#fiddauthor#fordsquared#fidd is transmasc to me and i think estrogen wouldve saved ford but thats just me lol#i think fidd was lowkey fords trans awakening like#fidd obvs couldnt rlly tell people but trusted ford enough to tell him his identity and then ford was like#wait you can do that? facinating im very deeply interested in this on an anthropological way (egg cracking sound)#NONBINARY BE UPON YE 🏳️⚧️🏳️⚧️🏳️⚧️🏳️⚧️🏳️⚧️🏳️⚧️🏳️⚧️#anyways. yall know my thing is giving characters shrimp genders so
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by "real" use whatever criteria you think appropriate. "i think they had feelings for each other but never acted on it" "they had a casual thing/situationship" "they were together but broke up" "they were secretly married in canada and have 6 kids together and their wives are beards". or maybe "they gave each other handjobs but platonically or something" or "one-sided unreciprocated feelings" wouldn't count as "real" by your judgement.
feel free to say your ship/opinions if you reblog. or dont idc im not your mom.
#like for example my main rpf ship is obvs mclennon and i would consider myself a tinhat insofar as that i think there was mutual feelings#involved though i'm conflicted on whether they acted on it or not#but most rpf-y stuff im into in any way is just for jokes#like i wouldnt say i actually think jam reiderson fucked yknow
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