#or at least if they do have them be fun enough that it's fine

[bambisnc]

𝖷𝖮 ♡ use me, i'll be your genie

                  ❪ ➴ ❫───엔하이픈; asking them to teach you how to kiss

ft. bsf!OT7 % hcs + 1.5k (180+ per member) && w. kiss talk ˖ ✧

♡ [ 1-800-XO HOTLINE ] : new layout #bless ++ no one talk to me ab this for 3 business days. but i do personally LOVE how this turned out icl

                  🔗. 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝘍i𝖫𝖤 ᰈ̠ 𝖭𝘈𝖵𝗂𝖦𝘈𝖳𝖤 ✮

이희승 — ❪ LEE HEESEUNG ❫  

౨ৎ as soon as he hears you casually bring up the question—a simple “so will you do it?”—heeseung responds with a flat out refusal. nope. no way. nuh-uh. 

it’s not like he particularly hates the idea of kissing you, hell, he’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind a few (or slightly more than that) times. 

but … past experiences have made it plenty clear that the thin line between friendship and something more is delicate. one wrong move, one wrong act, and the entire dynamic could crumble.

when you huffily tell him to forget about it, wanting to keep some face, he immediately protests. 

“no wait! just... don’t ask anyone else to do it. if—if it has to be someone, i’d rather it be me.”

before the sentence is even finished, he’s closing the gap between you; hands cautious, touch careful.

heeseung’s lips brush against your jaw first, dipping slightly to the plane of your neck before tracing their way back up. if he has to do this he’ll do it right.

your breath catches and he pulls back, just barely, before looking at you to ask if you really want this. you can only hope the way your hands rest on his shoulder are enough to convey your yes.

zero palpable hesitation, his kiss drips with confidence. like he has a point to prove. like he’s decided that if you are crossing this line, it might just have been waiting for you both all along.

          ⋅ ˚ ଳ ₊ ‧ others utc

박종성 — ❪ JAY PARK ❫  

౨ৎ with one too many jabs about your "inability to pull bitches" and your "lack of rizz" from him, you will definitely be regretting your question within 10 minutes, tops. 

because of course jay’s first reaction would be to make fun of the fact that you actually have to stoop to the level of asking him for help. 

you try to huffily leave the rooftop at least thrice but he just laughs and tugs you right back to him by your sleeve.

before you know it, almost as if he hadn’t spent the last half an hour now teasing you unrelentingly, he casually leans in. 

shifting closer so imperceptibly that you don’t even notice at first, eyes skimming over your features, unreadable smirk ever present as he angles your chin towards him—mumbling a quick “no time like the present, yeah?”—and then he kisses you. 

no warning. no build up. just his mouth on yours, his touch patient but deliberate, with him simply choosing to allow his gentle actions to ease you into it. 

somehow, the silence letting you get lost in the moment is worse.

심재윤 — ❪ JAKE SIM ❫  

౨ৎ when what jake had originally imagined to be an ordinary study session at the library, ends up with you having him pressed up against one of the shelves, he really can’t be blamed for his flustered reaction. 

okay, so sure, maybe blushing and bursting into laughter right in your face at you asking him to teach you how to kiss wasn’t the most appropriate response. so, sue him.

and fine, maybe you didn’t mean to let it escalate this much. he’s now visibly bothered, ears pink, and hands twitching awkwardly by his sides. “y-you’re serious about this? really? i just thought—”

you weren’t serious. you swear it. you really only meant to tease him. but then his wide eyes fluttered down to your lips once, twice, and... really how could you be expected to stop after that?

“d'you still find this funny?” you can’t help but murmur, voice barely more than a whisper.

he just stares at you, mouth slightly parted, like he has something to say. you see the exact moment he decides to lean in—tentative, a movement laced with anticipation. 

and that’s exactly when you pull back.

“guess you’ll have to take this more seriously next time.” 

and then you’re walking off, leaving him standing there—flushed, stunned, and definitely no longer laughing.

박성훈 — ❪ PARK SUNGHOON ❫  

౨ৎ winner of the most nonchalant award !! you need help practicing how to kiss? sure. what else are best friends for?

he promises he’ll only be slightly cocky about it. “if you wanted to kiss me all you had to do was ask.”

“i don’t,” you’d shoot back, but the way he has to hide how the corner of his mouth quirks up, shows that he clearly doesn’t believe a word.

you ramble on a little about how this is just to familiarize yourself with the entire process, how it’s overrated and not even that deep—like why does a “first” kiss even matter? it’s literally just a kiss.

all sunghoon responds with is an easy “sure.” like you asked him the time. “c’mere.”

no teasing, no embarrassment. his hands are comforting at your waist and the kiss is slower than you expect. more cautious. when he pulls back, his voice is low, even. too even.

“there you go. you’re not half bad.”

he seems nonchalant, sure, yet... the faint red on his features tells a completely different story.

김선우 — ❪ KIM SUNWOO ❫  

౨ৎ “you’re joking, right? Right?.”

sunoo stands up—he did always have a thing for dramatics—like he needs to have free range of motion to be able to process what you just said. 

“you,” his fingers points accusingly like you’ve committed a grave sin, “want me,” finger pointing back at his own now pacing figure, “to teach you how to kiss?!”

his conviction is so strong that you almost believe in the sacrilege yourself.

you eventually interrupt him with an airy mention of just "dropping it" because you can always ask someone else.

“do you even know,” he gasps at that, “how easily people could literally take advantage of you if you walk up to them and say that??” 

you snort, brushing him off. you’re confident, positive that you can handle yourself. 

but when he moves next you hardly expect him to crowd into your space, pinning you against the bed you’d been lazily lounging against.

his lips ghost over yours, not touching but close enough that you can feel the words he says next before you hear them. “confident huh? i guess we’ll see how well you handle this, then.”

safe to say … lesson learnt. (maybe.)

양정원 — ❪ YANG JUNGWON ❫  

౨ৎ finding yourself alone on classroom cleaning duty is usually plenty boring. it’s only natural you’d have … some interesting thoughts to distract you from the mundanity of the chore.

but thankfully, your best friend happens to be suffering on duty with you too! what better way to pass time than a quick chat with him?

so when you half jokingly bring up the idea you don’t really expect anything to come out of it. 

and the surprisingly positive response you get is, if nothing else, a tad bit unexpected. jungwon almost seems to be a little too thrilled at the prospect. “so,” his face is carefully neutral, but years of knowing him have made you rather familiar to that knowing sparkle in his gaze, “this would purely be for educational purposes?”

you nod, still half thinking this is just hypothetical. he nods back in response. 

he moves slowly, like he has all the time in the world, like this is something he doesn’t even have to think twice about.

you find your face cupped in both his hands and all your follow up questions silenced as he presses kiss after kiss to your lips, unorganized desks remaining forgotten.

"i'd hate to get in the way of proper learning, after all." is his only explanation as he lets you up for air (much) later.

西村 力 — ❪ NISHIMURA RIKI ❫  

౨ৎ it’s actually him who jokingly brings it up.

some offhand comment about first kisses tasting like lemons. when you admit you wouldn’t know, considering you haven’t had yours, he pauses. almost as if considering the logistics of what he’s about to say. 

to fill the silence, you add a “you could teach me, you know.” not meaning anything by it at all.

but you can only blink when in a tone that is way too assured he says, “i could.”

“…huh?”

ni-ki has the gall to shrug at that, eyes glued to whatever 2000’s cheesy romcom you’d picked out earlier that evening. he insists you should get some ‘real experience’ and that it’d be a disservice to society (i.e., all the boys you could potentially date in the future) not to help you out.

one would think he's doing you a public service by how much he talks it up.

you roll your eyes, deciding to play along. if he wants to take the joke this far, you might as well get some fun out of it.

naturally, his only way to deal with your unserious attitude is to prove his point. 

one short kiss melts into two, three, four—you end up losing count. and frankly, you couldn’t be bothered one bit about it.

his thumb brushes against your slightly swollen lips, stopping you when you chase after his own again, and you almost hate how he seems so composed.

“don’t overthink it.” he says, sealing the words with one last kiss to your forehead, a complete contrast to the earlier rushed ones, “i’ve got you.”

𐙚 . regulars : @chrrific @jessxxxfwd @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @weedatthegasstattion @flipitkickit @douqhnxtss @soona-huh @amoressb @nicholasluvbot @manariee @rinrinninnin @ddeonuswife @douqhnxtss @lovenha7 @amatabelle @i-am-not-dal @liyahhhh620 @elleetlalune @eunwonji @s0shroe @wensurr ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[sturnsblogs]

Babysitter

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

Word count- 1400

Warnings- Mattitude.

The office smells like stale coffee and stress. You shift uncomfortably in the chair across from the principal’s desk, still unsure why you were called in. You try to replay the last week in your head—no skipped classes, no fights, no dress code violations (this time).

“You’re one of our more socially engaged students,” Principal Martin says with a smile that immediately makes you suspicious. “You’re outgoing. Involved. Well-liked by your peers.”

Your eyes narrow. “Are you buttering me up for something?”

They chuckle, opening a folder and sliding a paper closer to them. “We have a student who’s… struggling. Matthew Sturniolo.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Matt?

“You mean the guy who ignores every group project, wears his hoodie over his head all day, and basically growls at anyone who looks at him?”

Principal Martin gives a patient smile. “He’s been disengaged. He’s failing most of his core classes. Teachers say he won’t participate. Won’t speak. He needs a… nudge.”

You stare. “And you want me to be the nudge?”

“We’d like you to… connect with him. Check in. Sit near him when you can. Maybe offer to work together in class. Just… be friendly. Help him come out of his shell.”

Your laugh comes out sharp. “You want me to babysit him.”

“We’re calling it ‘peer support.’ He needs someone approachable, and frankly—he’s not going to respond to a lecture or another meeting with a guidance counselor.”

You slump back in the chair. “He doesn’t even like people.”

“Which is exactly why we think you might be the right person. You’re persistent.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. A glowing recommendation for your file would shut your parents up for at least a week.

“Fine,” you mutter. “But if he tells me to leave him alone, I’m blaming you.”

Principal Martin chuckles. “Noted.”

You’re about to stand up and leave when the door clicks open behind you.

“Ah—Matt,” Principal Martin says, standing a little too quickly. “Thanks for coming down.”

You turn, and there he is.

Matt Sturniolo.

Same messy curls, same headphones hanging around his neck, same silver chains catching the light when he steps in. He doesn’t make eye contact. Doesn’t say a word. Just slides into the chair as if it physically pains him to be here.

You watch him glance your way—just once—and then immediately look away like your presence offended him. His jaw tightens. His legs bounce. He slouches deep into the chair and picks at the rip in his jeans, ignoring the principal entirely.

“Matt,” Martin says slowly, like he’s speaking to a bomb, “this is Y/N. She’s agreed to help you out in a few of your classes. Group work, study support. Just someone to check in with.”

Matt scoffs under his breath. Loud enough for you to hear.

Your eyes snap to him. “Problem?”

He doesn’t look at you. Just tilts his head, eyes flickering toward your bold eyeshadow and glossy lips before he smirks—barely.

“Didn’t know this was a charity case,” he mutters.

You raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t know being rude was a personality.”

He shrugs. Doesn’t respond.

Principal Martin clears their throat, trying to salvage the awkward silence.

“Let’s give this a chance. Matt, you’re capable of a lot more than your grades show. Y/N is just here to help you—if you let her.”

Matt leans back in the chair and finally meets your eyes. Cold. Guarded. Judging.

“I don’t need help,” he says flatly. “Especially not from someone who looks like they came out of a makeup aisle fight.”

Your stomach twists—but you smile, because that’s what you’re trained to do.

“Awesome. This is going to be so fun,” you deadpan.

Martin forces another smile, clearly praying this doesn’t turn into a war.

“I’m sure once you two get to know each other, this will be a productive partnership.”

You and Matt exchange another look.

You’re both thinking the same thing:

No, it won’t.

You’re already planning how you’re going to avoid this kid as much as possible—pretend to help, fake your way through a few “study sessions,” and keep your life intact.

But of course, Principal Martin just has to make it worse.

“We’re going to help this arrangement run as smoothly as possible,” he says, smiling like they didn’t just trap you in a nightmare. “So I’ve spoken to your guidance counselor, and we’re working on adjusting your schedule to match Matt’s. That way, you’ll be in all the same classes and can sit together consistently.”

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

“What?”

“We’re switching a few of your periods,” Martin says, like it’s no big deal. “You’ll still meet your credit requirements, don’t worry. And we’ll make sure your extracurriculars aren’t affected—”

“No,” you cut in, shaking your head. “No, no, no. I have classes with all my friends. I’m in advanced lit. Honors chem. You can’t just move me around like that.”

Your voice cracks slightly, and you hate that it does.

Matt, still slouched in his seat, glances sideways at you. His expression doesn’t change much, but his mouth twitches into something cruel.

“They’re all fake anyway,” he says under his breath, just loud enough to make sure you hear it.

You whip your head toward him. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs, eyes still trained on the floor.

“Your friends. Your little fan club. Bet half of them talk about you the second you leave the room.”

Your stomach drops, anger mixing with something else—something closer to hurt. Because deep down, you’ve thought the same thing before.

Still, you fold your arms and scoff. “At least I have friends.”

He finally looks at you again. His eyes are sharp, unreadable. “Must be exhausting.”

Principal Martin clears his throat, breaking the tension before it explodes.

“I know this is a lot, but it’s temporary. Just until midterms. Think of it as… a challenge. A leadership opportunity.”

You sink back in the chair, jaw tight, throat burning. You want to scream. Or cry. Or both.

Instead, you stare at the wall and say nothing.

Matt’s already put his headphones on.

You hold the new schedule in your hand like it’s a death certificate.

Period 1: English 12 – Room 108

Period 2: Pre-Calc – Room 203

Period 3: History – Room 115

…and so on.

Every single class—every one—now matches Matt Sturniolo’s.

You feel your stomach twist again as the bell rings for passing period. The hallway floods with voices, slamming lockers, and the faint scent of Axe body spray and cafeteria chicken nuggets.

You step out of the office just as Matt does. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t wait—just tugs his hoodie over his head, headphones back on, and starts walking toward first period like you don’t exist.

You stare at his back for a beat.

And then something in you snaps.

You lunge forward, grab his arm just before he disappears into the crowd. He stiffens immediately, twisting back like he’s ready to yank away—until he actually looks at you.

“Don’t walk in front of me like I’m not here,” you say, voice low but sharp. “I’m stuck doing this, so are you. You don’t have to like me, but you’re not gonna treat me like I’m nothing.”

His expression flickers—just for a second. He’s clearly surprised. You can tell. People don’t usually grab Matt. Or talk to him like that.

He blinks, lips parting slightly like he’s searching for a comeback. But you don’t give him time.

“Now let’s go,” you add, letting go of his sleeve. “We’re already late.”

You walk ahead a few steps, fully expecting him to ignore you again.

But he doesn’t.

After a pause, Matt adjusts the strap of his backpack and matches your pace—not beside you exactly, but not ahead either. Side-eyeing you every few seconds like he’s trying to figure out what your deal is.

Neither of you speaks on the walk to Room 108.

But when you reach the classroom and step inside, you hear him mutter—

“Didn’t think you’d actually have a spine.”

You slide into the seat next to his with a forced smile.

“Yeah? Didn’t think you’d be so damn dramatic.”

He snorts—quiet, but it’s there. The first crack in his wall.

The teacher starts class, but you can feel Matt still glancing at you every so often. Like you just became a glitch in the system he thought he had figured out.

A/N- I like the way i’m going with this.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn @ivysturnss @ilovemenwithlonghairr @whore4-chrissturniolo

[sirfrogsworth]

I'm sorry this post is getting so long, but I wrote another post about this post and looking back I feel it belongs here. I think I was finally able to clarify my thoughts a little better. So if you have already read this, feel free to skip it.

Also, I'm not looking at the replies for the moment. I'm waiting until I feel better so I don't have emotional reactions I regret.

-----------------------

I am at the peak of a very intense episode of post-exertional malaise after helping clean my house for 3 days. I am in pain and tired and my emotional defenses are nonexistent. I can't tell the difference between logical lucid thoughts and emotionally out-of-my-gourd thoughts.

And I decided to talk about AI and argue with people about it.

Just… bad timing.

I feel like I was within my logical framework. I hope I made sense.

But some of the things people were saying felt really hurtful and ableist and I don't know if that is just because I am so raw or if I am justified in feeling that way.

The eye tracking thing really bugged me. Like, "here's an expensive alternative but you have to wiggle your eyes for hours." That just sounds... exhausting. And painful. I literally tried using my eyes to draw and it was... unpleasant.

I think I am just traumatized by the millions of unhelpful or laborious suggestions I've received over the years. And maybe that technology can work at some point. But the funny thing is, when I researched it, some of the ideas were to take someone's eye squiggles and then use AI to interpret them into an image. So... same thing with extra steps.

It just felt like people were being so morally rigid they couldn't carve out a tiny empathetic exception for people like my friend. And beyond that, they had to let me know his creative output was meaningless and invalid.

To relate things back to guns, there is a tough pill to swallow here.

Guns are fun. They are fun to shoot. Fun to collect. Fun to modify. Fun to geek out over.

And the fact that they are fun and bring people so much joy and catharsis and sense of community is one of the reasons they are so hard to legislate. Gun people use 2A and self defense as their "legit" argument, but deep down they just like their shooty shoots. They choose this fun over societal safety and it is frustrating as hell sometimes.

Gen AI is fun. I had fun trying it. I made one of those action figure memes. It gave me a little creative high trying to get it right. It was easy to forget I just used 200 gallons of water to cool a computer at some server farm.

Fun things are fun. Fun is therapeutic. Fun can be scarce when you are disabled. And when you find something easy enough to let you have fun and it doesn't require some huge personal consequence, your mind will do all sorts of things to justify it.

If people don't want to admit that this can be in any way fun and helpful and creative, that's fine. If they want to say all of it is ugly and none of it looks cool. Fine. But that is the same frustrating denial that my friend is putting out there with his bogus justifications.

I wish my friend would just say he knows this hurts artists and the environment but it helps him and it keeps him in this world so it is the least bad option for his needs.

I feel the same way about Amazon Prime and Grubhub and streaming services. Video streams use a sizeable energy foot print that keeps growing just like AI. They also screw artists in all sorts of unique and terrible ways. And I still subscribe to a bunch of them because I need my shows to keep my sanity.

Eating meat. Oof. I love animals so much but cheap vegan diabetic diets aren't really a thing.

So I absorb that guilt to keep surviving.

And I hope that I can fight to make some of those things a little less terrible.

Falling into the AI vortex.

Before I deeply criticize something, I try to understand it more than surface level.

With guns, I went into deep research mode and learned as much as I could about the actual guns so I could be more effective in my gun control advocacy.

I learned things like... silencers are not silent. They are mainly for hearing protection and not assassinations. It's actually small caliber subsonic ammo that is a concern for covert shooting. A suppressor can aid with that goal, but its benefits as hearing protection outweigh that very rare circumstance.

AR15s... not that powerful. They use a tiny bullet. Originally it could not even be used against thick animal hides. It was classified as a "varmint hunting" gun. There are other factors that make it more dangerous like lightweight ammo, magazine capacity, medium range accuracy, and being able to penetrate things because the tiny bullets go faster. But in most mass shooting situations where the shooting distance is less than 20 feet, they really aren't more effective than a handgun. They are just popular for that purpose. Dare I say... a mass shooting fad or cliche. But there are several handguns that could be more powerful and deadly—capable of one bullet kills if shot anywhere near the chest. And easier to conceal and operate in close quarters like a school hallway.

This deeper understanding tells me that banning one type of gun may not be the solution people are hoping for. And that if you don't approach gun control holistically (all guns vs one gun), you may only get marginal benefits from great effort and resources.

Now I'm starting the same process with AI tools.

Everyone is stuck in "AI is bad" mode. And I understand why. But I worry there is nuance we are missing with this reactionary approach. Plus, "AI is bad" isn't a solution to the problem. It may be bad, but it is here and we need to figure out realistic approaches to mitigate the damage.

So I have been using AI tools. I am trying to understand how they work, what they are good for, and what problems we should be most worried about.

I've been at this for nearly a month and this may not be what everyone wants to hear, but I have had some surprising interactions with AI. Good interactions. Helpful interactions. I was even able to use it to help me keep from an anxiety thought spiral. It was genuinely therapeutic. And I am still processing that experience and am not sure what to say about it yet.

If I am able to write an essay on my findings and thoughts, I hope people will understand why I went into the belly of the beast. I hope they won't see me as an AI traitor.

A big part of my motivation to do this was because of a friend of mine. He was hit by a drunk driver many years ago. He is a quadriplegic. He has limited use of his arms and hands and his head movement is constrained.

When people say, "just pick up a pencil and learn to draw" I always cringe at his expense. He was an artist. He already learned how to pick up a pencil and draw. That was taken away from him. (And please don't say he can stick a pencil in his mouth. Some quads have that ability—he does not. It is not a thing all of them can do.) But now he has a tool that allows him to be creative again. And it has noticeably changed his life. It is a kind of art therapy that has had massive positive effects on his depression.

We have had a couple of tense arguments about the ethics of AI. He is all-in because of his circumstances. And it is difficult to express my opinions when faced with that. But he asked and I answered. He tried to defend it and did a poor job. Which, considering how smart he is, was hard to watch.

But I love my friend and I feel I'd like to at least know what I'm talking about. I want to try and experience the benefits he is seeing. And I'd like to see if there is a way for this technology to exist where it doesn't hurt more than it helps.

I don't know when I will be done with my experiment. My health is improving but I am still struggling and I will need to cut my dose again soon. But for now I am just collecting information and learning.

I guess I just wanted to prepare people for what I'm doing.

And ask they keep an open mind with my findings. Not all of them will be "AI is bad."

[airandyeah]

Footballplayer!Sukuna X Toughgirl!Reader Who Do You Think I Am? Pt.5

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

You’re halfway through your morning coffee—cheap, lukewarm, and aggressively bitter—when the hallway drama begins again.

It’s always the same: squeals, perfume clouds, and the faint tremble of excitement when certain footsteps echo down the hall. You don’t have to turn around to know who’s behind you. The sudden hush followed by the swarm tells you everything you need.

And yet, despite the usual chaos, the only thing on your mind is the chipped polish on your thumbnail.

Bright. Pink. Blinding. Like Tiffany’s voice.

You’re not thinking about him. You’re not thinking about the heat of his gaze the day before, or the way he picked up your bag like it was his job. You’re not thinking about how warm his hand was when it brushed yours by accident.

You’re not thinking about him.

“God, do they ever shut up?” you mutter as you yank open your locker. The metal groans like it agrees with you.

Tiffany bounces next to you, completely unaware that your patience is on its last thread. “You saw it, right? How he ignored Yorozu? Like, full-on didn’t even blink. She looked like she got hit by a truck!”

You hum, noncommittal.

“Oh my god, you liked it. You totally liked it!”

“I liked that she ate dirt. There’s a difference.”

You don’t see the eyes watching you from down the hall—sharp and red, tracking your every move like a bad habit he can’t break. He doesn’t ask. He just takes the bag. You glare at him every time, arms crossed while he hoists it over his shoulder like it's nothing. Like it's his. Like you are. “Put it down, jackass,” you mutter the second day in a row. “Don’t wanna,” he shrugs, barely glancing at you as he adjusts the strap. “Your bag’s heavy. Bad for your back.” “It’s my back.” “Exactly,” he says, like that’s the end of the conversation. It’s not chivalry. It’s possession. He’s made that perfectly clear. And the worst part? You let him. You and Tiffany plop down under the shade of a quiet tree, skipping out on the cafeteria madness for something less... overwhelming. You toss a chip at her, and she catches it in her mouth with a grin. “Okay,” she says, mouth half-full, “so are you gonna tell me what’s going on or do I have to keep pretending you’re not literally letting Sukuna Ryomen carry your bag like you’re his wife?” You groan, dropping onto your back with a dramatic sigh. “I hate that everyone’s talking about it.” “Well, you’re talking about it.” “I am complaining about it.” Tiffany hums. “You’re blushing about it.” You sit up, pointing at her. “First of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all... okay. Maybe. I don’t hate the attention. From him. All the way. Just a little.” Tiffany gasps so hard she chokes on her water bottle. “I said maybe!” you snap. “God. He’s just—he’s annoying. Loud. Full of himself.” “And hot. Strong. Smells like woodsmoke and locker room sin,” she lists. You shove her shoulder with a groan. “I can’t stand you.” “Admit it.” “I might have a small, microscopic, almost imaginary feeling for him.” She beams like she’s won the lottery.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you warn.

“Like what?” she says all innocent, twisting the cap back on her drink.

“Like you’re about to say something stupid.”

She hums, then shrugs. “Okay, so—party. Tonight.”

You squint at her.

“You need to loosen up!” she pushes, grabbing your wrist. “Let your hair down, wear something hot, have a drink. Maybe even let someone flirt with you that isn’t Ryomen ‘I’m obsessed with you’ Sukuna.”

Your expression sours, but she’s not backing down. She never does.

“You’ve been all twisted up since you got here. Don’t you think it’s time you have a little fun?” she adds gently. “Just one party.”

You sigh.

Maybe a drink would sort the feelings out. Or at least drown them in tequila long enough to pretend they aren’t real.

“…Fine.”

Tiffany squeals like she’s won a bet. “Yes! You’re gonna look so hot. Sukuna won’t even know what hit him.”

“I thought this was about someone else flirting with me.”

She shrugs, already planning your outfit in her head. “Details, details.” ~~~ Tiffany’s dorm is chaos.

There’s glitter in the carpet, music pulsing low from a speaker, and a half-dozen girls sprawled across beds and floor cushions, half-dressed and passing around makeup brushes like they’re weapons.

You’re sitting on the edge of Tiffany’s unmade bed, already regretting your decision.

And then she holds it up.

The dress.

Short. Sparkly. Crimson. It glints in the light like sin itself.

“Absolutely not,” you say flatly.

Tiffany gasps like you just kicked her puppy. “Absolutely yes. You are wearing this. You are going to be the hottest person at that party, and you’re going to thank me when you get free drinks and neck pain from all the heads turning.”

“It’s tight,” you protest.

“Exactly.”

“It’s short.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s not me.”

“It’s who you’re going to be for one night,” she grins, shoving the hanger into your arms. “Now get dressed, you glorious grumpy bitch.”

You roll your eyes but stand anyway. The girls cheer when you come out of the bathroom, freshly changed and visibly uncomfortable in your own skin.

But then you catch your reflection.

The dress clings in all the right places, the sparkles catching the light like embers. It hugs your waist, your hips, your thighs—everything. Your legs look longer, your figure more dangerous.

It’s not you.

But it’s not bad.

Tiffany whistles low and hands you a tube of red gloss. “Sukuna’s going to combust.”

“I thought we weren’t doing this for him,” you mutter, dabbing the gloss on anyway.

“We’re not. But watching him squirm will be a bonus.”

Tiffany is relentless.

After the dress comes the shoes—tall, black, strappy heels that make your legs look like art and threaten your balance with every step.

“Beauty is pain,” Tiffany says like it’s scripture, tightening the last strap around your ankle.

Then comes the hair.

She brushes, twists, and pins with the grace of a girl who’s done this a thousand times in bathroom mirrors before blurry nights. “You’ve got great hair,” she murmurs as she works. “You never do anything with it.”

“I like not looking like a doll.”

She scoffs. “Tonight, you’re Barbie with a grudge.”

When she’s done, she spins you toward the mirror.

You barely recognize yourself.

Your hair is soft and styled, your lips slick with red gloss, your eyes lined just enough to smolder. The sparkly crimson dress hugs every inch of you like it was sewn onto your body, and the heels make you stand tall—commanding. Dangerous.

You look like someone who could ruin a man.

Or maybe just one in particular.

“You good?” Tiffany asks, holding out a tiny matching clutch for you to carry. “You look like you’re either going to faint or murder someone.”

“Can I do both?”

She grins. “Hell yeah. Now let’s go make memories you’ll deny in the morning.”

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Tiffany arrive.

Music pulses through the walls, the bass thudding against your ribs like a second heartbeat. The lights are dim, tinted with deep reds and golds, and bodies sway and laugh in tight circles of noise and sweat.

The door swings open—and you step through.

It’s almost cinematic, the way the crowd seems to part for you. Maybe it’s the heels. Maybe it’s the dress. Maybe it’s the fire in your eyes. But the second you walk in, the air shifts.

And he feels it.

Across the room, Sukuna Ryomen—football king, locker room menace, shameless bag thief—turns his head.

And stops breathing.

You don’t see it, but Tiffany does. She nudges you with a smug little hum as you make a beeline for the drink table, hips swaying, chin high. Your confidence is stitched into every step like the thread holding your dress together.

Sukuna watches you like a man struck by lightning.

Gone is the gruff swagger, the arrogant scowl. In its place is a stunned, slack-jawed flush that crawls up his neck and sets his ears burning red.

Gojo cackles beside him. “Oh, you’re so fucked.”

Sukuna doesn’t answer. He’s too busy trying not to fall in love.

You reach the drink table, grab a solo cup, and sip coolly, acting like you don’t feel every pair of eyes on you. Especially his.

You don’t look over. You don’t need to.

He’s already watching like you hung the goddamn stars.

You barely have time to finish your first sip when a figure steps into your space like he belongs there.

Tall. Dark hair tied up in a loose bun. Dressed in a black button-down rolled to his forearms and a cocky little smile like he’s never been told no in his life.

“Did it hurt?” he asks smoothly, eyes raking over you with slow, deliberate interest.

You blink up at him, unimpressed. “When I fell from heaven?”

“No,” he grins. “When you walked in and shattered Ryomen’s ego.”

You glance toward the corner, just for a second. Sure enough—Sukuna is glaring. One hand clenched into a fist. The other crushing his red cup with a slow, crinkling squeeze.

You turn back to the stranger. “And you are?”

“Geto. Suguru, if you say it nicely.” He holds out a hand, all practiced charm. “You’re new.”

“Observant.”

“I like that,” he hums. “You’re different. Confident. You don’t look at Sukuna like he’s a god, which is already more interesting than half the girls in this room.”

“I don’t look at anyone like a god,” you reply, cool and steady. “They’d have to earn it.”

His smile widens. “And what does a guy have to do to earn that look?”

“Start by not being annoying.”

“Ouch.”

From across the room, Sukuna is two seconds from combusting.

His jaw ticks. Gojo tries to hold him back with a hand to the chest. “Bro. Chill. You’re gonna break the drywall.”

“He’s touching her,” Sukuna growls, watching Suguru lean in a little too close as you sip your drink with feigned indifference.

“I swear, if you punch Geto, I’m not bailing you out this time.”

Sukuna’s already moving.

Geto clocks Sukuna's approach before you do.

The shift in the air is subtle—less noise, less movement, like the party is holding its breath. Suguru’s eyes flick behind you and his grin only grows sharper.

“Well,” he says, voice smooth and amused, “I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

You raise an eyebrow just as he takes a deliberate step back, both hands raised in mock surrender. “I’ll catch you later—if your bodyguard here doesn’t bite my head off first.”

You turn—and there he is.

Sukuna Ryomen, in all his pissed-off glory.

He’s flushed, jaw clenched tight, and his red eyes are locked on you like you’re the only person in the room. He stops just short of you, his presence hot and overwhelming and buzzing with something dangerous under the surface.

You sip your drink slowly, gaze unbothered. “What? Come to growl at me again?”

He doesn’t speak at first.

His eyes trail down the length of your dress—slow, burning, hungry. He’s never seen you like this, not even close. You look like every dream he’s ever had twisted into a challenge.

He swallows hard.

“You look—” His voice catches. “—really fucking good.”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “That so?”

He nods once, sharp and tense. “Too good.”

You let the silence stretch just a little too long before you smirk.

“Don’t make it weird, Ryomen. It’s just a dress.”

But you both know it isn’t just anything.

Sukuna smirks—slow, crooked, sharp like the curve of a blade. It’s the first real crack in his usual scowl, and he takes a step closer, enough that you can smell the heat of cologne and sweat from earlier practice.

“You called me Ryomen,” he says, voice dropping just enough to make it feel pointed.

You blink at him, unimpressed. “Yeah, and?”

He grins like he’s won something. “Means I’m growing on you.”

You bark a laugh. “No, it means your name has fewer syllables than ‘annoying football gremlin.’”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling—and god help you, it’s a good look on him.

“Oh, c’mon. You like me.”

You take a step back, just enough to regain airspace, your lip curled into a smirk. “If you’re growing on me, it’s because you’re a parasite.”

That makes his grin falter, just for a second—before he laughs, low and unbothered.

“A parasite, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, swirling your drink. “Persistent. Loud. Hard to get rid of.”

He watches you over the rim of his cup, eyes gleaming. “Guess you’ll just have to live with me then.”

You don’t respond.

You just smirk, turn, and walk away—hips swaying, glitter catching the low lights—leaving him stunned and speechless in your wake.

From the other side of the party, Geto leans against the wall, sipping his drink with a smug look.

“Totally fucked,” he mutters into his cup.

The music’s pounding behind you, the crowd thick and tipsy and blissfully unaware—but in the quieter hallway off the main floor, it’s just you.

And them.

You hear the giggle first. High-pitched. Fake.

“Hey, slut.”

You barely turn before something shoves your shoulder—hard. You stumble, heels skidding on the tile.

Yorozu steps out from the shadows of the hallway like a queen with a crown made of venom, followed by two of her lackeys—painted and perfect and predatory.

“Well, well,” she drawls, eyes glinting as she circles you. “Glitter dress and everything. You must think you’re so special.”

“I think you should back off,” you snap, squaring your shoulders. “I’m not in the mood.”

But they don’t back off.

They crowd closer instead, like wolves catching the scent of blood.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” Yorozu hisses, voice suddenly sharp. “But that attention from him? That was supposed to be mine.”

You scoff. “So take it up with him.”

Wrong move.

One of the girls grabs your wrist. Another jabs a hand into your shoulder. You twist, trying to yank free—but someone’s fist finds your ribs and you choke on the breath you didn’t have time to brace for.

Your back hits the wall. Hard.

“You think a little makeup and a tight dress means you can just walk in and steal everything?” Yorozu growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair, nails raking your scalp. “You’re nothing.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re done.”

She raises a hand—but doesn’t get the chance to swing.

“Let. Her. Go.”

The hallway freezes.

Sukuna’s voice is low and deadly, each word soaked in rage. He’s standing at the end of the corridor, fists clenched, eyes burning.

The girls hesitate. Yorozu turns, trying to save face with a scoff. “It’s not what it looks like—”

“I said let her go.”

The girl holding your wrist recoils like she touched fire.

Yorozu sneers, masking her fear. “You’re really going to throw me away for her?”

“I never fucking had you.”

Then he’s moving—quick, rough, terrifying—and you barely register how fast the girls scatter. Yorozu snarls something under her breath as she storms off, mascara smudged and pride cracked.

And then it’s quiet.

Sukuna steps closer, eyes raking over you—your disheveled hair, the bruise blooming on your arm, the ripped strap of your dress.

“Are you hurt?”

You glare up at him, breathing hard. “Why the fuck do you care?”

He swallows, jaw clenched. “Because I do.”

You don’t say anything.

You can’t.

Not when your knees are shaking and your throat’s tight and the scent of jealousy still hangs in the air.

But when he carefully shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, you don’t pull away.

Not this time.

He doesn’t touch you beyond helping you up.

Not a word, not a sound, just his jacket slipping gently around your shoulders and his arm hovering near your back—not quite touching, but ready if you need him.

You’re still shaking.

Not from pain. Not even from fear.

From the heat of rage curling in your chest, from the humiliation licking up your spine like a slow burn, from the weight of everyone looking but no one seeing what just happened.

Except him.

He walks you down the driveway, the party fading behind you into nothing more than music and meaningless chatter.

Tiffany’s car is parked haphazardly along the curb. She’s leaning against it, scrolling on her phone, still glittering from the party.

When she looks up and sees you, her smile drops.

“Oh my god— what the hell happened?!”

Sukuna’s voice is calm, quiet. “She needs to go home.”

“She—wait, did someone—?!”

“Take her home, Tiffany.” He looks at you—just for a second. His eyes are steady. “Please.”

There’s no arrogance. No teasing smirk. Just that one word, raw and real in a way that silences even Tiffany.

She opens the door immediately. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

You slide in without protest. Your hands are still clenched in your lap, his jacket draped heavy around your shoulders. The warmth of it clings to you.

Sukuna leans in just enough to say something—but stops.

Whatever words he might’ve said, he swallows them down like they’d hurt to say wrong.

And then he steps back.

Tiffany drives in silence for a while before she dares to whisper, “He looked like he was gonna kill someone…”

You don’t respond.

You’re too busy gripping the jacket like it’s armor.

Too busy wondering why the boy you hated most now feels like the only safe thing in your world.

Tag list is always open! Okay but, restraining order.... Tags: @nina6708 , @sherrieblossoms , @charlie-xo , @iloveredwineee , @kyo-kyo1 , @clp-84 , @book0fdr3ams , @enhasrii , @sanzuhoe , @strangelovedream Perm tags: @thenightperson , @makingtimemine , @nina-from-317

[sweetdispatch]

Hi could I get 7 pieces of baklava with pineapple and maple syrup please

I love your writing and hope your leg heals up real soon

Lake house - M. Rempe

v' bakery pairing: Matt Rempe x fem!reader summary: You and Matt had complicated relationship but this changed when you were forced by your friends to live in the same room during a weekend in a lake house warning: NSFW, graphic sex (+18), oral (f receiving), fingering, swear words note: thank you so much love, it means a world to me❤️hope you like it!

Since you met Matt, you didn’t like him. No matter how hard you tried, there was something in him that was pushing you away. You tried to act normal around him but he could sense that you’re not a fan of his. He made a small joke about it but you felt offended. You threw a drink on him and left the club. 

In summer, you were stuck together because of your friends. Matt didn’t make your life easier and since that situation in a club, he was picking on you. You were always fighting back with him because you didn’t want to be seen as a poor girl who can’t defend yourself. It was your reality that you’ve been arguing with him at least once when you were going out. 

Your friend came up with a great idea to rent a lake house and go there for a weekend. Everyone instantly agreed and felt excitement. This feeling quickly disappeared from your and Matt's faces when your friends told you that you have a room together. You knew that they made it on purpose to have fun of your suffering and because they really wanted you two to work things out. 

“I can’t believe that they did it” You said when you walked into the room with Matt behind you. 

“But honestly, are you surprised?” Matt asked you and you shook your head in no gesture. 

“Not a fucking chance” You said out of blue. “There’s only one bed” All you heard was Matt’ laugh. 

“I guess we’re stuck together even in sleep” Matt told you but you only looked at him to drop it. 

“I prefer to sleep on the floor then next to you” You scoffed. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. This bed is big enough for both of us. You won’t be sleeping there” Matt said and from his tone, you could tell that he wasn't joking

The first night was tough. You and Matt were colliding with each other's bodies all the time. You were sure that he’s doing this on purpose just to get you mad. After an hour you lost your patience and kicked him to wake him up. 

“What the hell?” Matt said with a raspy voice.

“Stop moving around the bed. I can feel your body on me” You told him. 

“I’m not doing anything” Matt told you and you sighed. You knew that this would be the longest three days of your life. Out of nowhere, Matt asked you. “Why don’t you like me?” 

“You’re annoying and since your dumb joke about my presence I can’t stand you” You told him truthfully. 

“I just wanted to break the ice between us” Matt said. 

“I don’t know what part of it if you won’t stop making this face, you’ll become ugly was funny for you” Matt could sense the disgust in your voice when you repeated those words. 

“I’m sorry. It was a bad call from me. My intention wasn’t to offend you, just wanted to see you smiling but I get why you’re mad” You were taken aback. You didn’t expect him to apologise to you. 

“Apology accepted but since we’re having a honest conversation, what’s your reason that you don’t like me?” You asked him curiously of his reason. 

���I honestly don’t have any reason but since you didn’t like me, I decided to match your energy” Matt laughed.

“So I was the bad one?” You giggled. “I’m sorry for it” 

“It’s fine, I deserve it” Matt said and you laughed.

The next morning, the atmosphere in your room was clean. There were no hard feelings between you and Matt. You explained everything to yourself and had a new start. Your friends were surprised when they saw both of you laughing and not arguing but none of you told them that you’re fine now. You wanted to mess with them. 

In the evening, all of you decided to sit by the bonfire and just enjoy the quiet time. To everyone's shock, you were sitting on Matt’ laps. You two were in a bubble. Two of you were drinking and laughing at all the stories. You were happy that you cleared the atmosphere with him because you noticed what a great guy he is. 

When everyone stayed outside, you and Matt got back to the room. Last 20 minutes you spent on talking about a movie that he never saw. That’s why both of you decided to get back and watch a movie. You laid comfortably in the bed and he sat next to you. During the movie, you weren’t talking much but you could feel his hand roaming your thigh. 

It would be a lie if you say that Matt wasn’t hot. He was and he had insane hands. Your focus was on them rather than on that movie and he noticed this. He squeezed your thigh lightly and you felt your cheeks burning. He was going higher with his hand until he reached the end of your shorts. 

Matt was bold in his moves. He saw the effect he has on you and wanted to see how far he can go until you stop him. You spread your legs a little bit further to give him better access and he laughed softly. His finger brushed your panties under the shorts and he could feel how wet you were. 

“Please” You whispered. “Do something” 

Movie was long forgotten. Matt positioned himself in between your legs. In a quick move, he took your shorts and panties. His fingers were brushing your clit. You moaned quietly and the next thing you felt was his tongue on your pussy. By instinct you hands went to his hair and you pushed him closer. 

Matt was eating you out like a starving man. He looked at you and saw how you threw your head from the pleasure. He smiled to himself at the view. His two fingers entered your pussy and you moaned at the sensation. He had long fingers and they perfectly were hitting your g spot. 

You felt that you’re close. Matt was the best guy who ever went down at you. Your orgasm hit you hard. You felt embarrassed by how fast you cum but he was great in what he was doing. You tried to catch your breath and looked at him. He licked his fingers clean and this made you wet again. 

“I didn’t know it’s so easy to tame you” Matt laughed and laid next to you. “All you needed was an orgasm”

“So you just did it for what? For your entertainment?” You felt used by him at that moment. You stood up and started picking up your clothes. 

“No, come back to bed, please” Matt pulled his arm to grab your wrist. “It was a joke. I’m sorry” 

“You’re insufferable” You told him and got back to the bed. 

“I like you too” Matt said and pulled you closer to his body. He kissed your cheek and you smiled. All the negative emotions you had towards him went out of the window and you started seeing him as a normal guy and not as an annoying one.

[mari-lair]

Super curious cause I kinda did this for my swap AU but if Akane wasn’t childhood friends with Aoi, but met her in school (since they’re the same age), then would they still have their whole point system / crush thing going on or 🤔

Cause in my AU, he’s clearly not her childhood friend cause she’s busy being an exorcist and thus never really meets him, or at least doesn’t spend much time with him like canon but still, he crushes on her in middle school and tries to impress her (which leads to him kinda stunting everything about himself because he wants to be exactly like the people she likes without realizing him being himself is fine to her) but the question is, if the crush happens later, then would the same love confessions slash point system slash their whole thing even work?

Those kind of questions are so hard to answer since being 'childhood friends' is a core part of their dynamic but I'll do my best.

I doubt the point system would still happen because of how personal and incredibly childish it feels. There was a lot of circunstances involved to get where they were now.

Take the new timeline for exemple: The engagement made it so the point system was transfered to Teru, it isn't a way to show how impressed/in love Aoi is, it's a way to show how well Teru did on his fake dates.

This happened because Akane no longer confesses to her (Aoi was shocked when he got on his knees at the dinner, his confession clearly wasn't a daily occurence) so there is no way to make a game out of it.

I bring the new timeline to say that HOW Aoi grew up now that Akane is absent from her childhood would deeply shape her.

Her growing up with Teru made her more connected with the supernatural world, and made her more bold and shamelessness compared to old Aoi. Just compare how new Aoi went out of her way to crash what she assumed was a nene and Akane date and the old one hid in her room for a week at the idea.

So depending if she was completely alone during her childhood or if she had another childhood friend in her clan that isn't Akane, it would already reeeeeeeeeeeeallly alter her reaction. No friends means she would be completely alone as a kid and have to learn to defent herself from all the people that harasses her, that wouldn't be a problem to exorcist aoi, who is used to fighting mosters, but it would means she has a bias agaist boys. If they aren't that close, to the point she wouldn't consider them friends, she would just say "I am not interested" instead of keeping it vague.

Even if she think 'akane is nice for a boy' or have any kind of possitive view on him she would not like if he first approached her with a crush.

As for Akane I don't think he would be even half as desperate. Just like he doesn't confess to his engaged childhood friend in the new timeline I can't see him insisting on confessing to a girl that had said point blank she has no interest. And if they ARE close enough for Aoi to not reject him point blank, she have to consider him a very precious friend, and I feel like Akane would focus much much much more on worrying about his friend's exorcist life and how dangerous it is than focus on confessing to her.

That's his main thing, half of the manga is him bending himself to keep her safe. Chapter 69 reveled he looked after her even BEFORE he got a crush, when all Akane saw her as was 'someone weird who is unbothered by bullying'

only after a while of this would he go "wow you actually cares a lot! I am in love"

And even them, keeping her safe is a constant in his mind. Clock keeper contract? Keep her safe from a truck acident. Stalking her? Keep her safe from harrasment (we have zero hints new timeline Akane stalks her so i really doubt akane would stalk an exorcist aoi that can protect herself, unless he stalks her in her job? oooh that would be fun actu- anyways i am getting sidetracked)

I just can't see Akane prioritize impressing her when she is constantly in danger (specially if she is alone). And if they are not that close I would have to ask WHAT made Akane fall in love in high school with Aoi, what was the event? Cause there got to be something she did to catch his attention. Akane does appreciate beauty but he needs more than a pretty face to fall, he acknowladge but don't really care about Teru's beauty, he looked down on Nene for obcessing over looks, and when Kou talk about his old crush on Nene he expect more than just her having a cute face. He also befriended Aoi first instead of getting a insta crush like all the other boys, so on so on.

So there have to be something that made him smitten. I doubt it would be her crying over a fight since they are not that close/ Aoi is tougher and cant handle bullies herself/ she is likely more closed off as an exorcist too. Depending what this event is (maybe she got hurt rescuing him from a supernatural? He was very touched when Aoi fought in chapter 121... Though that would only work if they are close enough for her to care so idk.)

Even if not quite like this, of one thing i'm sure: making Aoi an exorcist and making Akane not be her childhood friend would make their dynamic extremely different from canon, regadless if Aoi has a childhood friend that isn't Akane or not. The circustances that lead aoikane to their weird relationship with points and daily confessions were extremely specific, like, is not just them being childhood friends that got them to this:

Without the clock keepers contract there wouldn't be such a big distance between them, and without said distance Akane wouldn't assume he isn't doing enough and become increasingly more obnoxious in his displays of love in the first place.

[vicedmuses]

not everything had to be a competition. especially when he was with someone that he genuinely enjoyed being around. although it was fun to hear that he could exceed expectations every now and then. "that's just because i know you so well." he brought his hand back so that it was resting in between the two of them. his claws were extracted once more and slightly grazing the warlock's chest. he was tracking small circles and x's around his torso. hugs and kisses. all the while he continued to return the kisses too every now and then. "i'm always thinking about the next step." he moved his mouth down, trailing those kisses over to xavier's neck. then up his ear and over to his jaw. "although no more snowy mountains. i'm going to take you to a sunny island next time." warmth would be all around them. not just the magical warmth that the two of them could conjure up. paul wondered if the hot tub was going to be their favorite place in the cabin. although there were many rooms left to explore still. "trust me, i've since come to realize that you're not a fan of the cold or snow. at least we're not trapped here by heavy rainfall. how could your balenciagas ever handle that?" now a teasing smirk had formed over his features. almost like he was teasing the other man. each spark, each kiss, each thrusting of their hips, sent another wave of pleasure through the dragonkin's body. enough to draw out a couple of moans and groans from him. "i haven't fallen behind yet, have i? i think i've been keeping up just fine." his left hand moved up, wrapping around xavier's neck to pull him in for another kiss. then he pulled his own head backwards, leaning away. "do you want to stay here or go somewhere else?" he figured they weren't going to get off each other any time soon.

         xavier grinned into paul's mouth, that little moan still echoing in his mind. scored another point for team warlock. "you do have a way of exceeding expectations, don’t you?" he was losing track of himself amidst paul’s hands, the insistent slide of skin on skin, the delicious ache of wanting. his thoughts fuzzed at the edges, surrendering to sensation, to the beautiful relief of letting go. maybe this trip wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. maybe letting paul have his way was going to make xavier’s own worthwhile in the end. "it's a good thing i seem to have all the time in the world to play this game with you, but hope you're already thinking about the next trip," he smirked, teasing but cautious. he considered the way paul hungrily closed the spaces between them, as if xavier might disappear. he knew his own tendencies, how fast he could burn through things and people. how the glittering distractions of the city pulled at him in a way no magic ever could, but paul kept holding on, kept surprising him with the heat and intensity of a flame that didn't flicker. "because i'm not sure i can handle another round of roughing it without guarantees of hot cocoa." he settled against paul, expressed his approval physically by continuing to move his hips slowly, meeting their touch. their greediness earned paul a playful bite to the neck, then a soothing sweep of tongue, unable to deny what was being so generously offered. "keeping me means you have to learn how to keep up, you know." his hands moved again, tracing more elaborate shapes across paul's skin, just because he could, flicking more sparks at paul's chest, this time watching a few settle on the surface of the water.

[criscura]

I want to get to the good part of this blastvoid thing I'm writing but i do NOT want to write the part before it and I'm procrastinating so fucking hard

Like i know what i want and it'll be satisfying but it's like the reverse of eating beef jerky, where this is the tough gross part you just need to swallow before getting to the fucking SPPIUCCE

[sieglinde-freud]

i want to keep playing black eagles but everytime i open three houses i open it to the gautier inheritance and by god that map is just so. terrible. and then i turn off the game. unfortunately linhardt and lysithea have not learned warp yet so i just have to play it. the worst map ever. who ever designed this, 5000 curses upon ye. FUCK YOU

[buttercupshands]

just some LoV sitting in the long lost bar in Ultra Impact in clothes that they didn't wear yet

[theprincessandthepie]

LOOK AT HERRRRRRR <3333333

[asgardian--angels]

....idk in a fandom this gigantic how are people already coalescing onto a handful of popular headcanons and scenarios that just become the baseline now, when the source material gives us literally limitless possibilities to work with

[hirazuki]

Day 1 down!

The weather was gorgeous and we got to enjoy the sunlight for a good bit in the park, and I snagged myself some goodies:

(shoutout to @estramor for spotting the Mordor bag... I tried walking away and I couldn't XD Definitely will be the bag I use whenever I cosplay Mairon). And our kitchen is slowly morphing into having soot sprites everywhere -- soot sprite oven mitts, soot sprite apron, soot sprite bookends for the cook books XDD We've been meaning to get a kitchen towel, and this was just too perfect.

Also, after cosplaying for almost ten years, I have finally figured out a way to make raised hairstyles on non-lace front wigs work for me: BALD CAPS! I can't believe I didn't try this sooner, I would have saved myself so much grief (and money lmao). Still not as good as a lace front, obviously, but when the color you need is impossible to find on a lace front, this is a decent alternative. First time I'm actually happy with raised bangs on a blunt hairline wig!

I didn't take photos of the application process but, just for fun, I'm including photos of the removal process under the cut ^^

[running-in-the-dark]

kinda disappointed with how this weekend went. I mean, it wasn't bad! but it was our first weekend in the new apartment, and I/we wanted to get a lot done. I already did a lot during the week (a lot for me, not a lot for most people I guess), but there's lots of things that I can't do/can't do on my own, either because I'm too short or not strong enough or I need someone else to hold something or whatever. which realistically just won't get done during the week because my husband works full time, so. it sort of sucks that only one very small, unimportant thing got done. 😔

[messybouquetoflilies]

im so delusional what is wrong with meeeee

[orcelito]

Planning out my outfit for my concert shit. I think I've got good pants for it, maybe got shoes for it. Gonna look for a blouse tomorrow + possibly some new shoes. Bc the maybe-shoes are those shoes I got for the suit that I HATE. They gave me such terrible blisters. And I think the pants I have would look better with some kind of heel. But if I don't find anything good I can just use those flats. And for the blouse, it's gotta be black and long sleeve and also have enough flexibility to not restrict my playing. Flexible Clothes. All the better to play a funky little tune in.

On top of that tho I've got several assignments I gotta do this week. Gotta make a wireframe prototype for my web app for web programming class. Tonight, really. Bc the official thing is due Sunday but I gotta get it reviewed by classmate(s) (and also review someone else's, too), so better to have that done sooner rather than later. There's also a lab for my C programming class due on Friday, which I need to have done before the end of lab so I can get it checked off. Gonna try to get most of it done tomorrow night, if not all of it, so that I can just go into lab and get it checked off and then LEAVE. Bc if I stay the full lab I will have less than an hour b4 I gotta be at the venue for sound check. And I really would prefer to have more time before that. Tbh the lab probably won't take TOO much work, since it's just using recursion to make a lil maze solver thing. Not too many lines of code, since the recursion does a lot of that. The tricky part is actually figuring out the logic for it properly. But I took good notes on it when my professor talked about it in class so MAYBE I didn't attend the last 2 labs and MAYBE I haven't even started the thing. But it's ok. Fuck it we ball. And ON TOP OF THAT... the assignments, the orchestra prep, etc... I also wanna clean my apartment some, probably on Friday morning, bc nonzero chance of visitors after the concert. Not for long if they do come in. But Still.... #Embarrassed. It's not as bad as it was b4 bc thankfully I did manage to do my dishes. But there's still some things I should get cleaned up.

AND THEN...!!!!!!!!!!

Well I mentioned the prototype thing. I gotta review someone else's prototype, and I also need to update my own prototype depending on what people say about mine. Tbh I'm kinda planning on doing a lower-effort version to start with (instead of trying to make it perfect from the start) so that it'll hopefully be easier to adjust the prototype to whatever the advice is & make it seem like an actual improvement. There's also a presentation over this thing, which thankfully I'm presenting on... Wednesday, I think? But I gotta have the slides submitted I Think Sunday night (when the prototype itself is due). So I gotta prep the presentation alongside prepping the prototype. AND I have a lab for this same class due on Sunday too, so I'm a busy bee!!

And ON TOP OF ALL THAT, I have a midterm exam in-class on Wednesday for my C programming class (same day as the web programming presentation, ugh 🙄), a presentation for my quality engineering in IT class on Thursday (over ISO 9001 quality standard), AND a paper for that presentation's content due on..Friday, I think? It's a group presentation/paper, same group I worked with last time, which Thankfully they can pull their own weight. It's just more to do lol.

God. I'm being worked to the bone, actually. Feels like everything is happening all at once. But then I remember that it's midterms time and I have spring break the week after next. And I'm like. OK, that makes sense.

Just gotta survive the next week and a half... lol...