#tall bean speaks

[liltallbean]

Get to see my momma in Colorado in less than two weeks!! Gonna be one hell of a birthday weekend for herrrrr!!!!😘💕💜

[liltallbean]

I’m about to put my stoner engineering to work!

i just want a paci that also is a dab pen so i can hit it without my paci having to leave my mouth :(

[karliahs]

it's spring and the plants are growing and the sun is shining and the benj is slumbering

[starch1ldz]

Realizing I'm not that much bigger than JJ so Spencer could in fact pick me up... Kinda mad cause I wanna pick him up but he's a big boy :(

[oreo-creampie]

𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐬

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭: Your friendship with Kenjaku, Satoru, and Suguru gains some benefits.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: train/passing you around, size kink, collar/leash, praise/degradation/mocking/teasing, pain kink, sweet mean dom!geto, sweet sadistic dom!kenjaku, sweet mean dom!gojo, hints of jealousy, choking w and without the with leash, spanking, spitting, dacryphilia double stuffing the same hole, triple penetration, hints of cock warming, begging, overstimulation, mindbreak, friends with benefits, possessive kenjaku with talk of a punishment, squirting, vibrator, creampies

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 15 minutes / 4.3k

oreo: @arminsumi you have me the nugget of encouragement I needed thank you and that last post I reblogged from you had me thinking which is how gojo found his way into his post and into your pussy (don't look at my shame, ignore the posting date i'm sorrryyyyy)

Kenjaku bends over in front of you, blocking the Tv, dangling your spiked collar in front of your face. The leash coiled around his other hand. Smirking at you, “Our lil princess grew up into a beautiful slut.” Grabbing the back of the sofa, towering over you.

“What? You gonna do something about it?” Trying to snatch it from Kenjaku, standing up and holding your collar above his head. Standing up on the sofa, yanking it from him. He wraps an arm around your waist, swinging you around.

Wrapping your legs around his waist. "Do you want me to?" He had always been so tall, but never this thick. Clinging to Kenjaku it's impossible to ignore his brawny arms, fat pecs, and sculpted abs. He's gotten so muscular in the five years you've spent apart.

"Yes." Slipping your finger into his soft dark hair. Grown to his shoulders and buzzed on the side. Showing a beautifully done tattoo of spiders crawling out of his skull. Sliding your hand down his pec, glancing over at Suguru stretched out on your sofa,

Satoru comes up behind you, slipping the collar from your fingers. “Aw is it just him ya want?" Wrapping the collar around your neck, fastening it. "Wanna slut your pretty ass out for Sug and I too?" Looking up, Satoru is close, towering over you.

"Anytime anywhere, my safe word is beans." Grabbing the back of head Satoru's head, lightly dragging your nails over his undercut. He leans in for a rough kiss, parting your lips for his tongue.

Kenjaku bites your shoulder, groaning, sinking in his teeth until you're crying into Satoru's rough, needy kiss. Cupping your ass. tugging on the leash. Being sandwiched between Kenjaku's and Satoru's hard, muscular chests has you soaking through your underwear.

Suguru gets up from the sofa, slipping his black sweater off. "It will be easier to triple-stuff our whore on her bed." Satoru breaks away, and Kenjaku slaps your ass, squeezing a handful. Crying from the sweet stinging pain. His thick fingers massaging your ass doing little to soothe the burning.

Biting Kenjaku's neck, he moans, it's breathy and going straight between your legs. He croons, "Is that the hardest you can bite, how cute." Biting down harder, your wet cunt clenching around nothing when Kenjaku whines.

Tugging on his inky black hair. "That's it, bite me harder n' mark me." Your fingers glide out of Satoru's hair when he pulls away. Wrapping your arm around Kenjaku's shoulders. Kissing the red bite mark, sinking in your teeth right above, sucking on his skin.

He trails behind Satoru and Suguru heading towards your headroom. "At least I won't have to hear you endlessly gush about how badly you want to fuck her when we get home." Kenjaku gently rubs your cunt through your shorts. Having his fingers so close yet not being able to feel him is torture.

Satoru nudges your bedroom door open, turning on your overhead light. Looking at Suguru with a large grin. "Oh you think this is going to shut me up. You should know me better than that." He makes quick work of his clothes alongside Suguru.

Breaking away from Kenjaku's neck, "Speaking of home how much longer do I get the pleasure of seeing all of you." Gently laying you on your back, letting go of the leash letting it pool next to you.

Your chest aches and your wet cunt throbs. "I missed ya'll so much seeing everyone on my phone isn't enough." Looking into Kenjaku's dark chocolate eyes, they have gotten so cold over the years. Seeing them warm up with a needy, hungry passion your heartbeat in your cunt.

"We know, we missed ya too that's why we moving into a place here together." Kenjaku grabs your shorts, easily tugging them off, momentarily lifting your hips off the bed. Tossing it onto the floor.

Your bed dips underneath Suguru and Satoru's weight when they climb on, kneeling on either side of you. Your eyes widen, "You did! That's not fair, all of you are living together without me!" Satoru and Suguru grab an arm lifting you upright. Shifting onto your knees, holding your arms up.

Satoru drops the leash through the collar of your shirt. "Our slut wants to see us walk around in our underwear, hear our rough sleepy voices, and climb into our beds at night." Those two words ring over in your head in Satoru's smooth playful voice.

Their slut.

Kenjaku slips his long-sleeved shirt off. Shifting closer towards the edge of the bed. Unbuttoning his ripped jeans, biting in between his v lines. Roughly yanking them down with his underwear.

The answer is easy to give. "You'll never be able to get rid of me." Pushing his pants down for him to step out of, kicking aside. You take a moment to take in the body-length piece depicting a war between angels and demons.

Kenjaku confesses, "We've been your's from the beginning." Following the trail of carnage from his pecs along his hard slim waist. "Listening to you rant about mediocre men who have failed to get you off has been infuriating." Passing by his cock, wrapping your fingers around Kenjaku. Swiping your thumb over his cock, leaning over to spit on his cock. Smearing it with a swirl of your hand.

Spreading your legs when Satoru grabs your ass, jiggling it before giving you a harsh smack. "Knowing that in three minutes between your legs n' I can have you calling me God. You say you aren't letting you go, I'll baby trap you givin' the first chance." Nudging his finger into your wet cunt fucking his long thick finger into you.

Kenjaku grabs the leash, coiling some of it around his hand. "We are picking out another collar, I want you to wear it everywhere." Your cunt is soaking, dripping down your thighs aching with a throbbing need to cum.

You're blaming it on how cunt throbbingly beautiful Satoru, Suguru, and Kenjaku are with their mouthwatering pretty cocks. "I thought I got over ya'll. This isn't fair." Satoru bites your ass, and you moan from the sweet pain.

Grabbing Suguru's fat cock, taking him in your mouth, pumping your hand along Kenjaku's cock. He suggests, "I could look for a place with two extra rooms. One for you to sleep in, the other to fuck you in." Groaning when you pump your fist faster.

"Fuck I've been wanting to do this for too many years." Biting your ass, groaning, curling his fingers. your cunt flutters when he grazes your sweet spot. Satoru glides in a second finger, clenching him.

"Such a sexy little cunt, she's going to be gapping and dripping cum when we're done." Replacing his long thick fingers with his tongue with a loud groan. You push your hips back, trying to sit on Satoru's face.

He reaches around stroking your sensitive clit. "Dirty slut getting off on taking three cocks. One isn't enough for a pretty greedy cunt like yours huh?" Slapping your sore ass, groaning around Suguru's cock, your steady pace faltering. He grabs your head stuffing his cock in deep. Your nose touching his short dark hair above.

Kenjaku insists, "We can get her on her back so we can all get a taste of her pretty cunt." Suguru glides his cock out of your mouth. Satoru bites your thigh, stuffing two fingers into your cunt. Curling them messaging your g-spot until Kenjaku yanks on your leash, pulling you out of Satoru's grasp.

Whimpering when Satoru tugs on your thigh, not letting go easily. "Nn that felt too good." Suguru slaps your ass. "Smacking me around more, make my slutty ass sore n' use my sloppy wet cunt." Kenjaku climbs onto the bed, yanking you onto your bag and dragging you towards the top of your bed.

Suguru props the pillows up, grabbing underneath your shoulders, sitting you up. Spreading your legs, Satoru leans in for a sloppy kiss you can taste yourself on. Sliding your fingers over his short soft undercut into his fluffy hair.

Wrapping your fist around Suguru's cock, slide your fist down. Getting off on how hard yet soft feeling of his heavy cock. His puffy veins occasionally pulse making his head slightly twitch.

Kenjaku lays down on the bed, biting your thigh, stroking your clit with his large thumb. Whining into Satoru's kiss, getting sloppier, rougher, fondling your breasts. Tugging on your nipple's barbell, making your clit tingle too.

Letting you go, slapping your beautiful wet cunt. Gliding two fingers into your cunt with a loud squelch, sucking on your sensitive clit. Ripping through the sweet stinging pain with toe-curling pleasure. He doesn't take long to find your g-spot.

Suguru groans, rutting his hips, his thighs trembling. "Nnn keep stroking my cock like that." Satoru pulls away standing up and covers your face with his balls. Shallowly stroking his cockhead, coxing thick white pre-cum out.

Opening your mouth sucking Satoru's balls, the pace of your hand swirling along Suguru's fat, heavy cock. "Cock hungry whore, nnnfuuuck I can't get enough suckin' on my balls like that. It would feel even better to fuck your pretty mouth sore." Sticking your tongue out when he lifts his balls off your face.

Tilting your head back, looking up at Satoru. With a quick smooth stroke stuffing his cock deep into your mouth. His jaw-dropping with a loud moan. "Wanna take a picture of your pretty lips wrapped around my cock." Quickening his pace with his deep strokes, gagging you easily without even giving you all of his long cock.

Kenjaku pumps his fingers faster, his tongue's bar stroking your clit perfectly. Your hand falters around Suguru's cock. He grabs your wrist to hold your hand still for him to glide his cock through.

You aren't doing anything. Getting off on how they are helping themselves to your mouth, hand, and sloppy wet cunt. Creaming on Kenjaku's fingers, your sensitive cunt spasming around him. He doesn't break the steady pace of his thick fingers, focusing on your sensitive spot.

Biting your thigh when you try to twist your hips away. "Stay still whore I'm not done." Stroking your clit with his pierced tongue at a steady slow pace. Gliding in a third finger, pumping them into you with loud lewd squelches.

Groaning around Satoru's cock he stops forcing you to take all of him. Suguru states, "That's one, I want you to keep count of how many times we get your pretty little cock sleeve to cum." Satoru glides his cock out with a soft pop, moving aside.

Pathetically whining when Satoru bites your tit, flicking your nipple with his tongue. "I can't get over how they're pierced, gonna get you some pretty chains to tug on." Rubbing your other pierced nipple, hooking his fingers around the bar tugging. Then gently stroking small slow circles.

Twisting your hips away crying, Kenjaku is relentless with a pierced tongue and thick fingers. Fucking your past your high, sucking on your clit with loud groans. Biting your thigh, sitting up wrapping the chain of your leash around your neck.

"I'll tighten it every time you try to pull away until you're too weak to move." Kissing your forehead, switching places with Satoru. On his knees admiring your soft, beautiful body. Dipping his head between your legs, grinding his hips into the bed.

Squeezing Satoru's head with your thighs. Your clit is too sensitive for the steady quick strokes of his soft tongue. His thick fingers nudge your soaking wet cunt, gliding in, curling stroking your cunt. It doesn't take him long to find your sweet spot.

Kenjaku tugs on the leash tightening it around your neck. Grabbing your hand, spitting in your palm then guiding you to his cock. Smearing your spit with slow swirling strokes.

Suguru lets your hand go, letting you stroke him. Grabbing your thigh, pulling it into his lap. Kenjaku does the same with his other leg. Together they are keeping your legs spread apart for Satoru to suck on your clit and fuck two thick, long fingers into you.

Suguru grabs your chin, turning and tilting your head up. Leaning in for a kiss. Parting your lips for his pierced tongue. His kiss starts off slow and soft. Groping your chest, gently rubbing your nipple. Groaning into your mouth.

Kenjaku shifts in his seat, grabbing your wrist and gliding it off his cock. "What am I sitting on?" Reaching not far underneath the pillow pulling out a vibrator. Smiling, "Here Toru use this."

Satoru pulls away with a soft pop, gliding his fingers out. Taking the toy from Kenjaku. Biting the nipple Suguru isn't playing with. Groaning when you writhe. Pulling away slapping your cunt to make you jerk back.

Kenjaku tightens the chains around your neck. Satoru glides his fingers around it. Admiring how it's painfully digging into your skin beneath the collar proclaiming you their slut. "I'm staying, Look me in my adorable face after this and kick me out. I bet you cuddles that you can't."

Satoru gets off the bed toy in hand to grab his pants and slips his phone out. Kenjaku nudges three fingers into your cunt. Your hand around his cock going limp. You're too weak to move from the lack of air.

Taking a picture of Suguru making out with you. With Kenjaku fucking his thick fingers into your sloppy cunt. You're soaking your sheets. "Send it in the group chat." Tossing his phone aside onto the bed, holding the toy to your clit. Turning it onto its strongest setting.

Suguru breaks away, Kenjaku glides his thick fingers out holding them to your lips. You barely have the strength to open your mouth. Roughly stuffing fingers into your mouth. You can't suck, too limp and tingly, dark spots dancing in your vision.

Kenjaku unwraps the chain around your neck. Gliding his fingers along the indent left behind. Loudly breathing it, soothing burning lungs. You can feel the rapid pounding of your heart in your dripping wet cunt.

Steadying your breathy, your voice is raspy and breathy when you whine, "Fuck fuck fuck." The intensity of pulsing is too much for you. Curling your toes, your thighs trembling, cunt clenching, slick dripping soaking into your bedsheet.

Suguru stands up putting his cock in your face. Stuffing his thick, veiny cock into your mouth in a quick thrust. Gagging you with short, deep strokes until you're crying. "This is the only time I want to see you sobbing. You're so damn sexy choking on my fat cock." Gliding his cock out, smacking your cheeks, stuffing himself back into your hot wet mouth.

Admiring how your lips look gliding along his cock with a deep moan. Holding your head still by a fistful of hair. Steadily fucking your mouth, making you cry with spit dripping down your chin, smearing onto his balls.

Satoru swirls the toy on your soft clit. Spreading your lips apart with his fingers to record how your cunt spasms around nothing. Sinking two fingers, massaging your sweet spot. Groaning around Suguru's cock.

Kenjaku holds your hand out flat, spitting into it. Wrapping your soft fingers around his thick veiny cock. You swirl your hand down, his heavy cock drooping to the side on top of your wrist. Your cunt flutters around Satoru's fingers when Kenjaku groans.

Adding a third long thick fingers, your sloppy wet hot tight cunt squelches with each pump. "Squirt for me mama, lemme see your pretty super soaker gush. Show me goof I'm makin' her feel." Biting your thigh, sucking and swirling the toy on your clit.

Suguru glides his cock out. Grabbing his cock, lifting his head up to kiss him. "Fuck like my cock that much." Trailing soft kisses along a puffy vein. Sucking on his soft balls. Pumping your hand along Kenjaku's thick, veiny cock faster.

Swiping your finger over his thick head, smearing pre-cum. "Go ahead and make a pretty mess for us beautiful." Licking up Suguru's cock, wrapping your lips around his fat head. Softly licking his head, tasting him.

Rutting his hip, stuffing his cock deep into your mouth. Gagging you till fresh tears spill down your cheeks. Groaning, stuffing the last inch of his cock into your mouth. Grabbing your headboard, holding onto the back of your head.

"You look so fuckin' sexy with my cock stuffed so deep." Gliding his tongue till the tip is about to slip out. Groaning when you swipe his head with his tongue. "I wonder how your beautiful cunt looks taking my fat cock." Roughly fucking your mouth, his balls hitting your chin.

You're creaming on Satoru's fingers, he doesn't stop. The peak's intensity becomes overwhelming as it grows. You can't remember to stroke Kenjaku's cock. He pumps your hand around his cock.

Satoru croons, "We can double stuff our lil slut, use her like a cock sleeve till we bust a nut. Ya got tighter around my fingers. Want Sug and I to double stuff your cunt. Whoever cums second it gonna fuck the first deeper into you." Squirting on Satoru's fingers, he stills the toy on your clit.

Steadily pumping his fingers, fucking you through your high. Gliding his fingers out, dipping his tongue in to taste you with a groan. Yanking your hips back, he swirls the toy on your oversensitive clit.

Pleasure boarders on painful. You're quivering tears trickle down your cheeks. Satoru lazily pumps his tongue, groaning. Stretching his long, muscular body out on your bed. Grinding his cock on your soft sheets. Suguru glides his cock out of your mouth. Sitting down next to you.

Satoru grabs your hair pulling you onto your knees. Forcing Kenjaku to let go of your hand. Slapping your ass as Satoru pulls your shorter soft beautiful body on top of his. Getting on his knees, getting next to your head. Grabbing your hair, pulling your head back, and slapping your face.

"Stupid sluts like you get triple stuffed." Sticking out your tongue looking into Knejaku's beautiful face. Satoru grabs your jaw making you face him.

"You can have her mouth in a minute. I'm recording what expression our beautiful slut's face makes when we stuff our cocks in." Satoru picks up his phone, capturing your beautiful face on screen.

His cock is trapped with your sensitive clit and soft lips. Grinding your hips, smearing your slit on Satoru's cock. Biting your lip, your soft clit drags along a thick vein. You can feel his pulse. Lifting your hips for him to reach between grabbing his cock and lifting it for you to sink your soaking wet cunt down on.

Taking Satoru's warm cock head when he grabs your hip planting his feet and slamming you down. Moaning, your jaw drops, clenching his side with your thighs.

Kenjaku grabs his cock jerking himself off next to your face. "I'll have to screenshot something for my phone's background." Pinching your nipple, softening when you whine. His gentle strokes soothe some of the ache.

Satoru croons, "You sound hot cryin' like that." Enjoying how deep he's reaching, stroking your sweet spot before touching your cervix. Suguru nudges your stuffed cunt with his cock, getting just his fat head in. Admiring how your cunt stretches, his cock vanishing inside you.

Your warm, soft soaking wet cunt is so tight, pressing him against Satoru's longer cock. Slimmer than his own he's stretching you out more. His head stopped just below Satoru's. Your tight cunt makes Satoru's cockhead overlap.

"Fuck the pretty faces you made taking our cocks is gonna make me bust too quickly." Satoru ends the video tossing his phone aside. Letting Kenjaku grab your hair twisting your head forcing you to look up at him. Sptting on your cheek, smearing it with his cock before stuffing your mouth.

Suguru and Satoru time their thrust, stroking your sweet spot with Satoru's head hitting your cervix. Not giving you another moment to get used to them. Suguru's soft breathy moans mix with Satoru's needy whines.

Kenjaku's fat cock muffles your cries. "Pretty little crybaby slut." Dropping your leash, pushing his hair out of his face with a swipe of his hand. Clenching Suguru and Satoru's cocks.

"Three cocks enough for ya? One of us is bound to be free when your greedy little cock sleeve needs to be filled." His large balls smack your spit-covered chin. "Touch anyone else and you're not sitting down right for days. I'll make you count every hit to your sweet ass." Fucking your mouth rougher, grabbing his thigh.

Digging your nails into Kenjaku's muscular thigh." That's it my pretty slut cry for me." Smiling down at you, "I'll edge you till I cum then leave you wanting till the next day. Won't even let you cum during aftercare, and if you touch yourself, you're not getting my cock for a month." Gliding his cock out of your mouth with a soft pop.

Using however long you got to catch your breath. Moaning when Kenjaku smacks you roughly across your face. Satoru groans "What dumbass our cock drunk lil slut is getting off being smacked around in bed? What other fucked up things would you let us do?" Rutting his hips faster, messing up the pace he's kept with Suguru.

Kenjaku stuffs your mouth full of his thick cock, roughly pumping his hips. Keeping a steady pace. "We should rent a place in the middle of the woods and find out. It won't matter where we fuck her."

Satoru slides his large warm hands up your sides. "I could pin you against a tree and fuck my cum into you after skinny dipping." Cupping your breasts, swirling his thumb over your nipples.

Suguru grabs your wrists twisting your arms behind your back with one hand. Smacking your ass repeatedly till you're jerking your hips away trembling. "Is six all you can handle? Pathetic." Slapping your stinging cheek two more times before massaging your soft sore cheek.

"We can raise her pain tolerance make her our perfectly trained painslut who begs for our cocks." Kenjaku groans, his hips shuttering. "Keep cryin' like that and I'll have to cum in your mouth." Fucking your mouth faster, tightening his grasp on your hair when his legs tremble.

Satoru grabs your sides, digging his nails in. Whining beneath you, his pace getting sloppy. Thick warm cum spurts deep in your tight, sloppy wet cunt. Satoru's thrusts flatter. He lifts up biting down on your shoulder.

Suguru fucks you harder, faster, stuffing Satoru's cum deeper into you, stroking his cock. Getting off on your soft cunt squeezing him tighter and the warmth of Satoru's cum. He lets your wrists go, grabbing your leash, and tugging on your collar.

Kenjaku's firm grasp keeps your head from moving. Steadily fucking your mouth not caring about your need for air. Causing your body to become tingly and limp, your head foggy. There is no need to think about anything. You just need to feel their warm hard cocks fucking into you until they cum.

Cumming on Suguru's cock pushing him over the edge. He sloppily fucks his cum into you. "Cum in her cunt." Kenjaku glides his cock out of your mouth, pumping his cock. Suguru lifts you off Satoru's cock, holding you up with your legs spread, pulling his cock out.

Satoru moves out of the way, getting off the bed and heading into your bathroom. Turning on the water.

Kenjaku moves in front of you, lining himself up and giving you his fat cock in one quick rough thrust. Jolting, your eyes widening and your toes curling. Wrapping your arm around his broad shoulders slipping your fingers into his soft hair. Tugging on it, pulling him in for a rough, passionate kiss.

Parting your lips for his pierced tongue. Laying you down when Suguru gets off the bed, his heavyweight pressing you into the bed. Digging your nails into his back, giving him several thin pink lines that will be there for days.

Pulling away, grabbing the toy on the bed, turning it on, holding it to your clit. "You're my dirty lil slut n' you're gonna take my cum like a good whore aren't you?" Swirling the toy on your puffy, sensitive clit. It's too much, you're trembling.

"Please cum please cum please cum! Sir please. daddy sir Kenjaku please cummmm." Clenching his cock, trying to push him over the edge quicker. "It's too much nnnn can't, can't, want to feel you cum. Please!" Smiling when you feel his a quick pulse in the veins of his fat cock.

Spasming around him cumming too quickly from his thick cock splitting your sensitive cunt open fucking Satoru's and Suguru's cum deeper into you. "NNn fuck that's it sexy mama needed to feel her cumming on my cock to get me off." Thick warm cum trickle from his cock. Smearing with every steady stroke.

Kenjaku takes the toy off your clit, turning it off and setting it aside. "Beautiful princess I'm proud of how well you did for your first time with us. What do you want for your reward?" Leaning down gently kissing your forehead.

"Cuddle pile? Don't take you cock out just yet." Smiling softly at you, your cheeks heat up from the admiration in Kenjaku's brown eyes. Lifting you off the bed, hiding your face in his neck.

He keeps his cock in, holding onto you, arranging the pillows before turning around. Sitting with you straddling his hips, he gently strokes your back.

Suguru comes back with a clean wet hand towel. "Look at me beautiful, let's get your pretty face clean." Satoru climbs onto the bed next to Kenjaku and you. You can't look any of them in the eyes. Kenjaku undoes the clasp of your collar and you pull away. Sliding your hands down his thick pecs, keeping your attention on his hard abs.

Satoru croons, "Aw what this did we fuck our princess into being shy again? Do we need to fuck it outta ya?"

oreo creampie's m.list

[missmeinyourbones]

AURORA BOREALIS GREEN

cw: non sorcerer au, college au, enemies to lovers (?) neighbors to lovers, miscommunication trope if you squint (I AM SORRY), reader e to as she/her once, reader wears heels, some light sexual content (dry humping nation rise)

wc: 10k+

There's something wrong with your upstairs neighbors. 

You've never met them, not face to face at least, but between the times you've hit your ceiling with the end of your broom and the audacity they have to continue to be as rowdy as they are, something isn't right with them. You're sure of it. 

And you're not naive to the fact that your apartment building is filled with young people, either currently in college or just freshly graduated. You're no prude to the dulled sound of late-night party playlists or squeaky bed frames muffled by plaster. 

But your neighbors aren't guilty of these typical noise complaints. No, they're borderline much worse.

The majority of their crimes take place in the day, believe it or not, which makes it all the more frustrating when you actually have shit to do. When it's not boyish yells of victory and frustration, it's footsteps that sound like a herd of elephants (how many people can live in an apartment floor plan for two?). They're relentless upstairs neighbors to have, and though you couldn't pick their faces out of a crowd if you tried, you're sure their lack of etiquette spans across other areas of their lives. 

The tiny clock at the top of your computer blinks a mocking 11:38 AM as you try to study through the sounds of excited stomping and rowdy gibberish. 

You don't know what makes today so different, whether it's the burnt coffee beans you can taste lingering in your usual order from the cafe across the street or the organic chemistry study guide practically laughing at you as you review your hieroglyphic notes for tomorrow's test.

Whatever is in the water has you feeling braver than usual, and instead of reaching for the conveniently placed broom in the corner of your kitchen, you find yourself stomping your way down the hall and up the staircase.

The sixth floor is identical to the fifth — you don't know why it wouldn't be, but you've never put much thought into it — so it's no surprise that your feet find no trouble in naturally bringing you to a door equivalent to yours just a floor below. 

Your knuckles wrap against the wood with three unfriendly knocks, and the joyous buzzing from inside the apartment instantly comes to a lull. You think you hear panicked whispers from the other side, almost as if the culprits are debating on answering or not. You take their choice away when you knock three more times. 

After a moment, you hear the clicking of the lock and the fiddling of the doorknob. You take a deep breath to ground yourself, put on your best customer service voice, and prepare to calmly tell these entitled frat boys to shut the fuck up when—

You're ironically met with the prettiest green eyes you think you've ever seen.

A tall brunette stands before you, about your age, and wearing a look that's both confused and embarrassed. Your eyes quickly flicker across his face in the span of mere seconds, logical thoughts going out the window and now replaced with amazement at how stupidly attractive he is. 

Though you knocked on his door, he speaks first.

"Hi...?" He clears his throat, looking behind you in the hallway, almost as if you have the wrong room. 

His confusion annoys you, and you suddenly remember why you're here in the first place. 

"Look, I really don't wanna be a bitch," you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "but what could you possibly be doing in this apartment that sounds like an actual full-out brawl on a Wednesday morning?"

Obliviously handsome neighbor's face goes a bit pink and his jaw slacks as he stutters, looking for either a shitty excuse or a polite explanation of the truth.

He opens the door a bit more, gesturing to the living room behind him. You spare a glance to where another guilty suspect stares back at you with big brown eyes and a smirk. There's some video game paused on the screen, ridden with animated blood and a scoped weapon's perspective.

Your attention is brought back to the one holding the door when he mumbles, "I think it's our game."

A bit dumbfounded at his lame answer, you blankly stare at him.

"Your... game?"

Brown Eyes yells from the couch, "Call of Duty!"

As if on instinct, Green Eyes closes the door a bit, shielding you from his roommate and shaking his head in exasperation. He clears his throat awkwardly, "Sorry, are you—?"

You're suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you've been staring at how long his fucking eyelashes are. He's anything but sore on the eyes, but again, you try to remind yourself that he and his roommate make your life difficult at least five out of seven days of the week.

"I live below you," you huff behind a swallow, "and you really don't make it easy." 

He nods dumbly, finally realizing the connection behind your visit. "Oh, right."

You scoff and nod your head. For someone as pretty as him, he's a bit thick in the head. 

Biting your cheek, you begin to walk away from the door without completely ending the conversation. As you're turning to leave, he hears you call out from down the corridor. 

"If you could just — not play video games like eleven-year-old boys," your tone is filled with annoyance, "that'd be great." 

You don't need to turn around to know that the stranger at the door is apologetic and nodding in compliance. Before he can fully shut the door, you hear a quip from his counterpart on the couch.

"She told you, bro."

As the door shuts, you hear the muffled hiss from the other. "You're the one making noise, dipshi—"

…..

Your threatening conversation must have worked to some degree, because it's been almost two days without any sort of annoyance from your upstairs neighbors. You think you almost take it for granted, the way you can study without headphones and enjoy a movie in the living room rather than in your bed with the speaker on high.

The walk back from your class is usually about twenty minutes, but it's closer to fifteen today as you're quicker when it comes to getting out of the cold.

Your chemistry test went alright — maybe not your best work but okay enough that you passed. And that's all you care about as you make your way back to your apartment, intending to crash in your bed and not move for the next few hours.

The winter air leaves a chill up your spine as you swipe into your building and press the elevator button. Your nose runs a bit from the cold as it sits against your knit scarf. Bag on your arm and half-consumed coffee, you can't wait to enjoy a day or two without thinking about covalent bonds and isomers.

You close your eyes and release a sigh as the elevator door begins to close, but before it gets the chance to do so successfully, quick footsteps and a hand jammed between the closing space prompt the doors to reopen.

Not really paying attention to the stranger joining your 30-second elevator ride, you simply step to the side to make more room for them.

It's not until they make eye contact with you that you realize it's your neighbor, the same one you'd borderline terrorized a few days ago for being irritating.

He's out of breath from catching the lift last minute, lungs still adjusting from the crisp air from outside. His jacket is zipped all the way up to his collar and his hair pokes out in spiky tuffs from beneath his hat.

He mumbles out a weak "sorry" before his eyes find the floor and the rickety door shuts, leaving the two of you alone in the suddenly very small space.

You'd cuss beneath your breath if you weren't close enough for him to hear it.

What's the acceptable thing to do in this scenario? You mentally weigh out your options. Sit in an awkward silence? Introduce yourself as if your encounter never even happened? Address the fact that you banged on his door a few days ago and insulted him as a first impression?

You choose the silence. If anything, you silently pray that behind your winter apparel and the lack of eye contact, he doesn't even recognize you.

But that thought goes to shit when you see that he's already pressed the fifth-floor button for you.

You swear the ride to your floor has never been this slow. Seconds feel like hours as you watch the digital number rise like paint drying on a wall. The elevator almost laughs at you as it stops on the third floor and opens itself to find no one there; you curse whoever decided to press the button before changing their mind and taking the stairs.

After what seems like forever, your floor finally flashes on the pixelated screen, and as you feel the elevator come to a stop—

The doors don't open.

You think it's just your dramatic prolonged sense of time until it's been about ten seconds and still, nothing. Just the two of you in a stopped elevator with doors that won't unlock.

You've never been one to believe in karma, but you can't help but think this is the universe punishing you for standing up for yourself. You are quite literally on your floor, a mere sliding door away from the embarrassing situation you got yourself in, but still, nothing happens.

He presses the button meant to prompt open the doors a few times with slight force.

"It does this, sometimes," he weakly coughs out in an attempt to make conversation. "It's uh—a shitty building."

You try pressing the button for yourself, "It's never done this for me."

Green Eyes sighs, slouching against his side of the wall and letting his head fall to rest on his shoulder, "Consider yourself lucky."

You huff, giving up on the button and turning to face him.

Your eyes didn't deceive you the first time you saw him — he is just as pretty as you'd initially thought. Not a great conversationalist, but nice to look at. He avoids eye contact until you speak up.

"It's happened to you before?" you gesture to the doors that won't open.

He catches your eye before nodding defeatedly, "This is the fourth time."

You can't help but bitterly laugh at the situation you're in.

"Maybe it's just you, then," you joke, looking up at the digital five mocking you in the corner.

Though you don't catch it, his eyes soften a bit as they fall on you. The corner of his mouth slightly quirks up when he chimes, "Could be."

You let yourself count another ten seconds before tossing your hands by your sides in aggravation and sighing, "So, what now? Hit the help button or—"

And like a blessing, or maybe a curse, you can't decide, the elevator chimes, signaling its arrival. The doors open swiftly as if there was nothing wrong with them in the first place, revealing your destination floor to you.

You whip your head to your upstairs neighbor, confused and almost asking for his permission to exit the elevator. You don't know why you do so, and you don't know why you only depart after he nods his head and waves his hand for you to continue.

Next time you leave your apartment, you find yourself taking the stairs to be safe.

…..

Your peaceful living is unsurprisingly short-lived. After a few enjoyable days, you'd given your neighbors too much credit as they now return to their usual noisiness. You find yourself rapping on their door once again.

This time, Brown Eyes answers.

Even before opening his mouth, he's instantly friendlier than his counterpart based on body language alone, completely opening the door all the way wide and leaning against the frame in his palm.

He's taller than you, but not as tall as the former who greeted you last time. With light rose-colored hair, he's all smiles and giggles. You'd think he were high if you could smell anything on him.

Oh, he's also shirtless.

"Hey, it's our friend again," he smiles at you before craning his neck backward, and you can make an educated guess on who exactly he's talking to.

You're quick to steer clear, "We aren't friends."

He laughs at your words, completely unfazed by the unwelcoming attitude. He casually sips on an energy drink that looks borderline lethal when he asks, "Were we being loud? You comin' to yell at us again?"

His lack of care for the situation surprisingly doesn't rub you the wrong way. Inconvenient? Yes, but not necessarily malicious, from what you can tell.

"I wouldn't be here for any other reason."

"Sorry," he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "We don't really have inside voices around here."

You can't help but roll your eyes at the childish excuse. "You should find some."

"Will do," he nods like a child being reprimanded in class, "sorry again."

He salutes you with a metal can in his left hand. Before you can turn your back to him and towards the elevator, you hear the same voice call out to you.

"Hey—!"

You stop midstride, slowly turning around to face the door again. He stands in the same position, leaning against the door frame as he points out the obvious.

"We didn't get your name last time."

You blink at him a few times, not caring enough to connect the dots and extend the nicety, but the friendly one persists. He places a palm on his (bare) chest as he gestures to himself, "I'm Itadori."

You nod with raised brows, "And I'm calling our landlord if you piss me off again."

You hear a soft chuckle from the inside of the apartment. The two of you turn at the sound of the noise, where Green Eyes hides his smile behind the strings of his sweatshirt and quickly returns his attention to his phone.

Itadori, apparently, looks back at you and nods to his friend, "That's Fushiguro."

You breathe out your own name and quickly make your way back towards your apartment. On the ride down to your floor, you find yourself repeating the name — Fushiguro. It tastes weird on your lips, and you hate the way you don't hate it.

..…

His name is Megumi. 

You learn this when a letter shows up at your door addressed to a Fushiguro Megumi. Mail mix-ups are common in the apartment complex, but you can't help but laugh at the coincidence - his name but your apartment number clearly displayed in black ink.

You examine the piece of paper closely. The cream-colored envelope covered in poorly drawn hearts and tacky puppy stickers placed randomly across its front found itself wedged into your door's mailbox. Flipping it over, the return address is a mere surname of Gojo underlined with a smiley face. 

A love letter, you realize. You're not sure why the shift in narrative suddenly fills your stomach with an uneasy weight of disappointment.

You're going out anyways, you tell yourself as you slip on your scarf and shimmy into your shoes. Between stopping at the grocery store for a few small things and dropping off overdue assignments at your professor's office, it's not like you're going out of your way to return the letter to its intended recipient. You're doing the right thing, being a good samaritan, your mind repeats. 

The single flight up the stairs is easy enough and a good excuse for exercise. Approaching the door that mimics your own floor below, the same one you've already visited two times too many, you feel weirdly nervous. Just slide it beneath his door and call it a day.  

As you bend to slip the paper beneath the door, it swings open. 

You quickly stand up straight and back away from the opening, as the shadow in your peripheral startles from your presence and does the same. 

"Shit, sorry—"

Looking up, you lock eyes with the one and only whose letter lies in your hand. Fuck. 

He hesitates a bit when he realizes it's you, doing a double take and immediately assuming he's in trouble again. 

"We—" Megumi, you now know him to be, turns his back to you, quickly surveying his empty apartment to show you, "aren't playing? Yuuji's not even home, so—”

You're not sure why you're the slightest bit hurt by his more than reasonable accusation. The only two times you've been at his door were to reprimand him, so of course he's not wrong to assume this time was no different. Still, it has you feeling guilty as you dryly swallow and raise your arm.   

"I was sticking this under your door," you sigh, handing him the ridiculous-looking envelope. "Got sent to my place accidentally."

His eyes flicker to your extended hand, and when he sees the writing on the envelope between your fingers, his body instantly goes hot with embarrassment.

"Of course it did," he groans beneath his breath, almost annoyed. 

A bit abruptly, he grabs the letter from you and places his hand behind his back, telling himself that if it's out of sight, you'll forget it ever happened entirely.

His uneasiness and slight frustration have you taking a small step back as he snatches the envelope. He senses your hesitation and immediately mourns how he acted out of instinct, sighing and slowly moving the letter from behind him to rest by his side.

He softens and clears his scratchy throat, something you've come to notice he does a lot. "Thanks."

Feeling a bit brave, you raise your eyebrows, amused at his odd behavior. Your words are taunting yet friendly when you nod to the note at his arm.

"You should probably tell your girlfriend that you're in #603, not #503."

Megumi's face is often stoic and downturned, aside from a slight pull of a smile that can rarely be seen on occasion. But at these words, you watch in regret as Megumi's expression mimics one of disgust mixed with pure mortification. 

"Oh, this—" his eyes fall to the envelope he thinks might be the cause of his death, "this isn't from a girlfriend. It's actually a lot worse than that." 

"Worse?" you push.

"It's... from a family friend," he weakly reveals. "Kinda like a dad, I guess." 

You find yourself smiling at the meek yet sweet confession, nodding along and biting back a good-hearted laugh at his timidness. 

"Right, I just assumed with the hearts and the cute stickers that—" you trail off, gesturing to the letter that clearly presents itself as something else. 

He laughs a bit humorlessly and itches the back of his neck shyly.

"That would make a lot more sense and be a lot less humiliating, yeah."

You take a moment to take in his shyness. He's harmless, you decide at that very moment. You make a mental note to remind yourself to weigh the sides of the subject at hand. 

Cons: awkward, obvlvious, bad neighbor, a tad unfriendly at times

Pros: annoyingly attractive, nice enough in actual conversation, respectful in passing, girlfriend-less 

You shake those points from your head, taking a breath and slowly moving towards the elevator. "It could've been worse. The stickers could've been puppies and kittens," you tease. 

You expect that to be all, because that's all it should be, right? An awkward yet friendly coincidence between two strangers who got off on the wrong foot. You're locked in on entering the elevator when you hear his voice from behind you. 

"Sorry—" he shortly blurts out. 

You turn, expecting him to elaborate on the outburst. The look on his face almost reads as if he wasn't planning to until seeing your reaction, where he explains, "That we're loud sometimes. I really do try to tell Yuuji to shut up, but he's just... a lot."

You don't know why your heart swells at the apology. 

"It's fine," you nod softly. Turning your back, you call out to him as you enter the elevator. "You've actually been pretty tolerable this week, but don't let that go to your head."

As the elevator closes, you see Megumi smile before returning inside and closing his door. This time, you don't stop the thoughts that flow through your head.

Pro: cute

.….

You suppose it was only a matter of time before the tables you'd set managed to turn on you, but you just didn't expect it so soon. Because the next time you run into your neighbors, it's them knocking on your door for a change.

The sharp winter wind shakes the sides of your building with rage — the kind that results in creaky panels and systems outages in certain sectors of your building.

After waking to take a shower early this morning and being greeted with piercing cold water that refused to warm up, no matter how long you ran the faucet, you knew today would be a long one.

Clad in layers of fuzzy socks and bulky hoodies, you rise from the couch to answer the banging outside. After opening the door to see who's on the other side, it takes less than a second for the visitor to make himself at home.

"You out of hot water, too?" Yuuji casually brushes past you, walking into your home and stopping in the center of the living room. He looks around the space in awe — as if his own place just a singular level above doesn't mimic the exact same floor plan.

Still in the hallway but keeping an eye on his friend's questionable behavior, Megumi waits in the hallway. He's on the phone with someone, his cell wedged between his elbow and ear. When he begins asking about the building's backup generator, you mentally thank him for being the only proactive one here.

You sigh and turn to Yuuji, who's admiring your wall art and the fact that you have an actual television stand, "I'm out of heat in general."

"Damn," he blurts out without a thought, "that sucks."

You overhear Megumi wrapping up his conversation in the background when your lips are pulled downward in confusion.

"Are you guys not?"

"Oh no, we are," Yuuji continues admiring your apartment with a child-like curiosity, "but we have a space heater that's doing the job for now. How are you so good at decorating?"

You ignore his question, turning to Megumi who now stands on the threshold of your doorway. He makes a face, one of tight lips and sympathy, almost as if he's wordlessly apologizing for both the unfortunate scenario and his roommate's lack of social etiquette.

You further wrap yourself in your own little warmth, crossing your arms inwards. "That's actually really smart of you guys," you manage to croak out.

"You can come up and chill if you want," Yuuji mindlessly offers, eyes scanning over the magnets on your fridge. He can't stop himself from fiddling with a cherry-shaped one that holds up a baby picture of you from kindergarten.

The shock on your face must be obvious because you swear you hear Megumi swallow a chuckle at your reaction.

"You came down here… to ask me to chill?" Your voice octaves up towards the end, almost as if repeating the offer will reveal itself to be a track or joke.

While Yuuji nods eagerly, you can hear Megumi muttering from behind the neckline of his sweatshirt.

"Sue us for extending a neighborly olive branch."

As Yuuji continues to outwardly snoop around your kitchen, his eyes land on your oven-top clock and he whines.

"I actually have class in twenty and need to catch the shuttle to campus, but you're welcome to not freeze to death with Fushiguro, if you want."

You check your phone, confirming the time when you question, "Didn't the last shuttle of the hour leave already?"

You watch the gears turn in Itadori's mind for a second before he smacks a palm to his head, quickly brushing past you and out the door.

"Fuck me, see you guys later then—" he hurries, the only sound following him being the swishing of his winter coat and clunky booted footsteps jostling down the stairs.

And with Megumi still standing in your doorway and the sound of the main staircase gate slamming behind Yuuji's path, you could hear a pin drop between the two of you if it weren't for the howling wind outside (which you find yourself suddenly grateful for rather than loathing it).

Megumi shifts his weight on the balls of his feet as he stands. He clears his throat in a way he hopes is subtle.

"You can still come up," he gestures to the hallway with a nod of his head, before cautiously adding, "if you want."

Instinctively, you feel your body curl further in on itself. Megumi must notice it too, as his eyes quickly flicker to your raw hands tucked beneath your arms.

"It's not that bad in here," you weakly dismiss.

He deadpans, "I can almost see your breath."

A sigh leaves your chilled body and you look up at Megumi. Now it's your turn to silently communicate with him — eyebrows raising and wavering between your options, you chew on your cheek in thought.

"You don't have to," he softly adds, hands burrowing themselves in the pocket of his hoodie. "Just wanted to see if you needed anything, I guess."

"What did the landlord say?" your words are muffled from your teeth in your cheek.

Megumi's eyes light up a bit before they find his scuffed Converse again.

"He's sending his guys over, but it's gonna take an hour, at least."

After another minute that feels like twenty, you softly speak up.

"…Do you really have a space heater?"

As he fights off a smile, Megumi gently nods.

.….

You'll admit, the apartment looks better than you'd imagined. Not that your standards weren't too high to begin with, but you're pleasantly surprised.

Megumi unlocks the front door, gesturing for you to enter as he slowly closes it behind him, shivering a bit from the draft weaving through the hallway.

It's clean, relatively. The design of the rooms and open areas are identical to your layout below, but between the decor (or lack thereof) and the overhanging presence of the space, it feels so different.

Their television, the one you know to be responsible for their rowdiness, balances on what looks to be a bedside table. Far too small for the proportions of the TV but just enough to carry the width of the screen's base, it looks silly but does the job.

"You can just…" Megumi waves his hand to the living room, awkwardly trailing off as he insists. "Sit. Wherever you want."

Your seating choices include a felt futon in scrappy condition, two lopsided beanbags, and a busted recliner. You take your chances with the futon.

Surveying the apartment, it's not terrible — truthfully, you'd been expecting worse from college guys. You give them props; aside from a few half-drank plastic water bottles and withering plants on their window sill, there's nothing that outwardly goes against any health violations or suitable living standards. No empty beer cans or pizza boxes, no trashy flags or posters hung on the walls. It's decent.

And the space heater working overtime in the corner outlet is a major plus. Feeling the angle of its warmth blasting on your legs, you exhale at the heat and rub your fuzzy slippers together on instinct.

"Do you want anything?" Megumi stands a few feet away, nervous for someone in the comfort of his own home, "Water or a drink, or something?"

It's sweet how respectful he's being — you think back to whoever sent him that letter, imagining they raised him right.

You shake your head curtly, "I don't take drinks from strange men."

His face drops instantly.

"Oh—right," he swallows harshly, fumbling with his sparse words. "I didn't mean it like that or anything, but that makes sense. I just meant—”

The stoic expression you were attempting to upkeep fails and you can't fight off the smile that pulls at your cheeks. Exhaling a laugh and looking over at him, you apologize, "I'm just kidding, Megumi."

He feels his stomach instantly solidify like cement at your words — Megumi. He doesn't recall you ever referring to him by any name, let alone his first. He feels a wandering heat itching up his neck when he coughs up a chuckle.

He shakes his head, sitting on the opposite end of the futon and leaving the middle cushion between the two of you unoccupied.

"Fuck off," he scratches his jaw to busy his shaky hands. In doing so, you catch a glimpse of a few silver rings wrapping around his knuckles.

As the warmth of the space heater (solely the space heater, you remind yourself) gradually dissolves the chill that's been stuck up your spine for the last few hours, you slightly settle further into your seat.

"So this is the scene of the crime, huh?" you motion to the gaming console propped up on the floor beside the makeshift television stand.

Megumi amuses an exhale through his nose and nods along, "Yeah. I mean, you've kinda seen it from the hallway before."

"Yeah, but this is the real thing, first-person point of view. It's just missing me downstairs hitting the ceiling with my broom twenty times."

The next few minutes are stolen by a whole lot of small talk that holds no weight. Beginning to panic at how the hell you're gonna make it through this entire hour with little to talk about, your eyes fall on the television once more.

"So," you curl into the futon. "Show me something worth screaming over."

Without warning, Megumi chokes on his own saliva as he swallows.

"Huh?"

"A game," you quickly correct, not realizing how your words sounded and nodding to the television before you. "I meant, show me a game that justifies how loud you two get."

The game is fine, nothing revolutionary but admit that you could see how it could be entertaining for some. A standard battle royal concept, Megumi hands you his second controller and walks you through the instructions on how to play.

You mimic the way his fingers hold the controller, how they flex and bend to hit certain buttons for special uses. Throughout the tutorial of trial and error, the two of you naturally close the gap of the middle cushion, now much closer as you copy his movements and use his hands for reference. He even goes as far as reaching over to point out certain buttons to you, skimming your fingers hesitantly as he pulls away.

It's safe to say you don't win, don't even come close, but he's a good sport all the same. He laughs when you're hit by enemies and revives you with little to no mocking. He whispers an encouraging "there you go" whenever you manage to land a hit on someone, followed by an "I got you" when he's covering for your character. It's fun — you freeze a bit when you realize that you like spending time with him, even doing the very thing that caused this entire debacle in the first place.

You don't realize how much time has passed until Megumi's phone vibrates from the coffee table. His eyes quickly glance over the unsaved number, almost as if recognizes the contact and is debating on answering or not.

Your eyes narrow teasingly when you taunt, "You gonna take that?"

Snapped out of his thoughts, Megumi nods, swipes his screen, and holds his phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

The conversation is short, maybe thirty seconds in total. Though you can't make out any specific words, you can hear the rumbling of another deep voice on the other end of the call. Megumi listens half-heartedly, nodding along and chiming in here and there to acknowledge the caller.

"Hey, yeah. That was me. Right, okay. Okay, nice. Thanks, appreciate it."

The call ends and Megumi puts his phone down on the coffee table once more. You swear you can hear a small sense of disappointment in his voice when he breathes.

"That was the maintenance guy," he breathes softly. "Heat's back on."

You feel your own body getting sour with misfortune. Why are you so bitter about the thought of going back downstairs to your own apartment?

Nodding at his words, you slowly stand and do your best to sound relieved. "Thank god," you joke, "I was beginning to think I might have to sleep on this gross futon."

Megumi sneers, rolling his eyes and rising to walk you to the door. Before you step into the hallway, you turn to face him.

"Thanks," your tone is spineless, one he's unable to recognize from you before you elaborate, "for letting me leech off of your heat."

"No problem," he shoots you a genuine look. "Consider it reparations for all of the times we've annoyed you."

"All of the times?" you shoot him a harmless glare.

Unlike most who cower and scowl at your sarcastic quips, Megumi seems to bloom beneath your daggered attempts at pushing him away.

"Fine," he exaggerates a groan, "maybe not all. But it's a start, right?"

A start. The insinuation tickles all air out of your lungs like a feather. Though you pretend to be annoyed and kiss your teeth at his words, you nod all the same.

Leaving his door, Megumi seems lighter than he did when you first entered.

"Sorry you just kinda watched me play video games for almost two hours," he calls out to you as you depart, hands returning to his pockets.

"Don't be," you honestly tell him as your head cranes back to look at him. "It was nice to be up here for reasons other than wanting to strangle you."

.….

A day and a half later when the universe has realigned itself and it's you knocking on their door again, they half expect you to be followed by your stuffy landlord holding an eviction notice.

Much to their surprise, you're alone, rather skittish — and holding a tupperware container of… cookies?

It's Megumi who opens the door initially, but Yuuji is quick to squeeze his way into the opening at the sight of your familiar face and mysterious delivery in hand.

"Ooooooh, what are these?" he inquires, unashamed as he pokes his nose into your space in an attempt to get a better look at the baked goods.

Pulling a bit away from his antics, you swallow back any potential wisecracks.

"Thank you for being neighborly and not letting me die of hypothermia cookies," you keep your voice neutral.

"Are they poisoned?" Megumi pipes in.

You shoot him a scowl, one he's learned is innocent enough, and his eyes crinkle in amusement.

"Shit, can't remember if I added vanilla or vitriol?" your head cocks to the side in faux thought.

Your eyes flicker to him as he chews on his cheek in a half-assed attempt to cover up his entertainment at your quickness.

Yuuji, focused on nothing but having a minimum of five cookies for good measure, snatches the container from your hands and carries it to the kitchen counter.

He's already opening the dish and helping himself as he chews, "I don't even know what that is, so I'm gonna take my chances."

Megumi gives a quick thank you for the cookies, and Yuuji chimes in behind a satiated mouth and crumby lips. You brush off their graces, reminding them it's just you returning the favor for the heating situation.

Just as you're about to see yourself out of their entryway, you hear an authentic offer from the kitchen.

"Hey," Yuuji wipes his lips with the back of his hand, and something about it feels oddly youthful to you, "wanna come over this weekend?"

You look at the two of them for a moment, waiting to see if there's a punchline to come, before carefully treading, "Why?"

"We're havin' some friends over," Yuuji reveals casually before going to take another large bite, "and I guess you're funny enough to hang out with us."

The hesitation in your response must be more apparent than you think because he's quick to chuckle and elaborate on the offer.

"It's not an orgy," he teases at your stiffness before grabbing at another cookie and shrugging. "We get take out, chill, drink a little, kick ass in Mario Kart."

You nod as you listen to his words. He's kind, they both are, and you know the offer to be a genuine one. Still, the situation makes your stomach ache with uncertainty at the thought of mingling with strangers for the sake of your mere — acquaintances? Neighbors? Friends?

"As fun as that sounds," you breathe, clearly trying but failing to convince them of your apologetic tone, "I don't really wanna intrude on you and your friends.

"It's not intruding if you're invited," Megumi interjects for the first time in the conversation.

Looking at where he stands against the counter, his eyes are on you. They're careful, but hopeful in a gentle kind of way. He wants you to say yes — but he'd rather swallow a knife than his own pride and admit it himself.

Your words are unconvincing when you sigh, "Not really in the hangout mood. Next time, okay?"

The two men deflate a bit, one more dramatic and obvious than the other, but they nod at your rejection. Wiping his hands off on his shorts, Yuuji walks you to the door, thanking you again for the sweets and joking about you getting home safe on your long journey back downstairs.

You can't help but giggle at his theatrics, insisting that, "If you need me this weekend, I'll be rotting away on my couch with a bottle of wine and a week's worth of Love Island to catch up on."

Yuuji laughs wholeheartedly, "Your loss, see ya."

Megumi weakly waves as his best friend swings the door shut. Once closed, Yuuji turns to him with a cheeky smile he knows can mean nothing good.

Megumi grimaces at his enthusiasm, "What?"

Yuuji nods to the door, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "Think I'm gonna ask her out."

Megumi's quick to react poorly.

"What?" he borderline knocks over the water bottle next to him on the counter. He catches it, embarrassed by his obvious care for the situation as he tries to cover it up with a nonchalant scoff, "Why?"

Yuuji stares at him for a minute in disbelief before stating what he believes to be the obvious.

"'Cause she's hot and yells at us all the time?"

Megumi scoffs in distaste again. He fiddles with the rings on his right hand, pretending to be careless about a situation he's anything but careful about.

Sensing his roommate's off response, Itadori's quick to add. "Unless you wanna call dibs before I do?"

"Dibs?" Megumi groans.

"Yeah, like claiming—"

"I know what dibs means," he interrupts before Yuuji can dig his own grave any further. He slumps into the palm of his hand as his elbow rests atop the kitchen counter, "I just think that's shitty."

Yuuji, knowing Megumi well enough to sense that he's hit a sour spot, nods and backs off. He joins him at the counter again, oblivious as he grabs another cookie to chomp on. With cautious eyes and a mouth filled with chocolate, he speaks up.

"…So you don't wanna call dibs?"

.….

It's Saturday, almost Sunday, according to the cat clock on your wall.

You'd kept your word. Beneath a few blankets and practically one with your couch cushions, you're spending your weekend doing exactly what you'd anticipated.

The television continues to play the stream of episodes you're catching up on. With your second glass of red in hand, you tune in and out of the segments when the good parts catch your attention. It feels good to relax, to do nothing and to be nothing behind tipsy and fatigued eyes.

A sudden knock on your door puts a minor wedge in your plans. Sitting up with a groan, you whimper beneath your breath but move to answer it regardless.

Maybe you forgot to tip your delivery driver when he dropped off your takeout a few hours ago and he's back for revenge. Maybe it's your drunk friends, showing up to ruin your night and attempting to persuade you to join them on their foolish escapades. Maybe it's someone with the wrong address.

Locking eyes with the visitor at your door, it's Megumi. Maybe you're drunker than you thought.

His delicate eyes match yours when he scarcely smiles, "Hi."

Your eyes go to the items in his hands — a few beer bottles, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels, and a deck of cards.

Giggling to yourself, you stare at him, "I think you got off a floor too early."

Megumi laughs, and when you're able to get a good look at him, you can tell he's a bit tipsy, too. His shoulders aren't as tense as they usually are, he's still broad, but a lot looser now. His eyes are glossed over with a haze you're sure yours mimic. He scratches his nose awkwardly before opening his mouth.

"I—" he cuts himself off, eyes darting to the items in his arms before returning to you, "wanted to see you."

"Me?" you're unable to stop yourself from nearly gawking.

He laughs again, not obnoxiously but easy and natural. "Yes, you. Does someone else live here?"

"Don't you have plans with your friends?" you question, still not letting him inside.

"They're upstairs," he nods, "and no, I'm not here to force you to come up."

At his words, he can see your visible relief. Opening the door fully and letting him come inside, you relish in reassurance, "Good, I really didn't wanna be fake nice right now."

A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as he sets his belongings on your coffee table. "Fake nice?" he prompts.

"I mean, not that it's fake, it's just like—customer servicey. Y'know? Being kind to people in a way that's not ingenuine but—"

"Exhausting?" he finishes for you, and he's weirdly more talkative with a bit of alcohol in his veins. "Yeah, I feel that."

You sprawl onto your couch and he takes the seat next to you but refrains from leaning back as far. He watches you graze on your glass of wine, your legs crossed childishly as you gaze up at him.

"Are you like that with me?" he puts on a brave face. "Fake nice?"

He releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding when you shake your head. After a hearty sip from your drink, you talk dramatically with your hands.

"Am I even real nice to you? I've kinda been a bitch since the day I banged on your door."

Megumi shakes his head as he laughs, which in return allows you to do the same. He relaxes a bit further into the warmth of your cushions, lolling his head to look at you as he opens himself a beer.

"I don't think so," he shrugs. "You're not wrong for complaining about us being understandably annoying."

Things lighten up as time passes. The night gets a bit blurry but it's fun, carefree. The two of you sit on your tiny couch, passing a bag of pretzels back and forth, and playing stupid card games that bring out your competitive sides and don't have real rules.

Minutes bleed into hours and you're not sure what time it is when it's late enough for Megumi to start yawning. Enjoying a comfortable silence between the two of you, his voice is temperate when he asks.

"Why didn't you want to hang out with us?"

He almost seems mournful, and a part of you feels guilty as his eyes blink heavily down on you. You exhale, readjusting your legs and throwing your head back.

"Seemed like a friend group thing," is what eventually crawls up from your throat. "Felt weird being the only one who didn't know everyone, y'know?"

He considers before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. But I would've been with you."

His stare feels sharp, like he can see right through your facade and into parts of you you've buried deep a long time ago. You hate it and love it, want to drown yourself in it and voluntarily inhale until your own demise.

Unable to hold his stare, you look into your almost empty glass, swishing around the bleeding wine and ice that remains at the bottom.

"Well, you're here with me now, anyway."

Megumi continues to admire you without words. Pointing an accusatory finger back at him, you nudge his leg with your foot. "So, why aren't you up there?"

"Cause you didn't show up," he doesn't hesitate to respond. Almost as if he regrets his eagerness but still stands by the sentiment, he clears his throat before adding, "Was weirdly hoping you would, but—"

He doesn't finish his sentence, trailing off with a lame shrug.

His eyes look greener when they're a bit more watery. Fuck it.

Slowly, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time to assess his reactions, you move to crawl into his lap. You sense a difference in his breathing pattern, but other than that, he makes no move to pull away from you. He lets you carefully straddle his legs before getting comfortable atop him, when he places his hands on the plush between your hips and thighs.

Leaning in, giving him any chance to reject you, stop you, hate you, you continue to keep his eye as your lips just barely brush against his. He does the same, refusing to look away from you as if he'll never get this opportunity again. As if he wants to take a picture and relish it forever.

"Stop me," you bite through a hushed whisper, daring him to put an end to this before it begins.

His breath is lulled against your own when he whispers, "No."

You kiss him, and he kisses you back. It starts simple, like you're learning all about one another's creases and folds. Between shaky inhales and nervous hands, you lean into one another's touch, savoring every taste and sound you can manage.

Megumi feels brave, and on one particular gasp from you, he prudently skims his tongue across your lower lip before slipping it inside. Rubbing against your own with a fervent need, you open your jaw further for him to have whatever he wants. Between your increased breathing, soft moans, and greedy hands, the two of you slowly become messy and desperate for one another.

Hips wantonly moving against his thighs, he flexes instinctually as you begin to grind yourself down on him. He meets your movements, half hard as he presses into you, both of you whimpering at the new-found friction. The two of you reduce to whiney teenagers, practically swallowing one another whole and dry-humping fully clothed before you open your eyes to look at him.

Megumi, eyes shut and whimpering into your neck, is too good for this — deserves more than this. He's kind, respectful, funny (though you'd never tell him that to his face), and you're both drunk. It feels so fucking good, but it isn't right. It's not supposed to happen like this.

Slowing your movements, you pull back to see his face. Dazed, he opens his pretty green eyes to look up at you like you hold the stars and sun in your hands.

"We shouldn't," you pant, brushing your bangs back and catching your breath. "We should stop."

Megumi, confused and hurt, but instantly moving you off of his lap with a gentle hold, nods in agreement. "Right, right, we're — we're drunk," he whispers, almost ashamed of everything that just happened.

Before you can say anything, he's readjusting himself and standing up. A bit more sober than he was a few minutes ago, he's straightening himself out and making his way to your door.

"Sorry—" he keeps repeating himself, "I'm… I'm so sorry."

He's gone before you can reassure him that there's nothing to apologize for.

.....

You don't hear from him the next morning — or afternoon. 

When night falls, you've given up that there's any hope of saving whatever it was the two of you had going. 

Wanting to drown yourself in your own sorrows, you stare at the text from your friend before you and weigh your options. 

Stay in, cry yourself to a babbling mess, and finish your show

Answer their text and agree to go to this party with them

Thinking back to last night and how badly you fucked that one up, you decide the first choice is off-limits. Hoping you don't regret your decision, it's not long before you're looking decent enough to lock your door behind you and start the commute to your friends. 

The walk isn't terrible, being ten minutes to your friend's place and an additional fifteen to whoever's party you're attending. On the west side of campus, you can hear the muffled music and drunken squeals of the attendees from down the street. 

The party itself is fine, nothing special. The lime seltzer in your hand is still half full when you stray away from your friends in search of the bathroom. 

There's a line formed down the hallway of drunk girls laughing, couples swallowing one another's faces, and a single guy slumped against the wall in his own world. Taking a second glance at the end of the line, you recognize the lone drunk as Yuuji. 

Gently tapping his shoulder, his eyes blink open and he's nearly crushing you to death when wrapping his arms around you in excitement. He lets his animation get the best of him, lifting you in the air and spinning you once before he realizes he can't handle another. Leaning on the wall to steady both you and him, you're smiling at his sloppy yet endearing enthusiasm. 

"What are you doing here!?" he beams, swaying back and forth and reeking of cheap booze. 

"My friends dragged me out of the house," you tease before noticing truly how incoherent he is. Your nose crinkles with worry, "You fucked up?"

He can barely stand up straight, eyes unable to focus in one spot for too long as he blearily looks at you before skimming his body against the wall again. He's talking in slow gibberish, something about having one too many and wanting to talk to this pretty girl from his linguistics lecture before she leaves.

"Hey," you gently grab his jaw to steady his gaze. "Did you come here alone?"

Yuuji doesn't answer, or rather he does but it's nonsensical and impossible to go off of. You sigh, quickly scanning the suddenly overwhelming crowd around you before grabbing his arm and speaking kindly, yet reflective of a mother. 

"Let me take you back to our building, okay?" you prompt him to stand up straight and follow your lead. "I'm going back anyways, I'll walk with you."

Yuuji's eyes light up with excitement at the thought of a journey with his neighbor friend, and it's not long before he's dragging his feet over one another and using your hand as a guide to the door. 

On your walk home, you ache for the comfort of your warm bed, the feeling of taking these god-forsaken heels off, and Megumi's forgiveness. You wonder if you'll see him when dropping off Yuuji at his door — you pathetically hope so. 

However, Yuuji didn't show up to this party alone.

Megumi, who had been grabbing him a drink and caught a glimpse of you two, saw the entire thing without context — Yuuji's hands around your waist, you caressing his jaw, the two of you leaving abruptly together. 

He downs both his and Yuuji's drinks with ease. 

..…

Megumi wasn't home.

Disappointed but relieved to see Yuuji safe in the comfort of his apartment, you help him collapse on his couch.

Turning him on his side and making him drink at least two cups of water before throwing a blanket over him and leaving a note, you close the door behind you with a heavy heart.

A few minutes later, you're a bit more at ease. Feet now ridden of silly high heels and skin against the soft cotton of your bed, you find yourself flooded with thoughts of Megumi.

You wake up to a constant thud on your front door. Picking up your phone, it's almost two in the morning and you're not even sure you're not dreaming when you're feet carry you to the blistering noise of a fist on your door.

Swinging it open with half-closed eyes, you're more than prepared to fight a murder charge to get whoever the hell this is to leave you alone. But before you can curse them with everything in you, you realize it's Megumi.

"Hi," he whispers. It's a start contrast from the violent banging on your door he was responsible for two seconds ago, but you can't find it in yourself to care.

"Hi," you respond, suddenly more than awake and just as breathless. "You okay?"

"Are you sleeping with Yuuji?"

Your heart skips exactly two beats before you can accurately comprehend his question. It's then when you notice that he's drunk, disgustingly so. You're not sure how it wasn't the first thing you noticed - but looking at his green eyes again, you give yourself some grace.

"… What?" is all you can pathetically muster.

"Itadori," he slurs. His face is pale with hurt and the collar of his shirt is all wrinkled.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "Yeah, I know who Yuuji is, but why the hell are you asking me that?"

"Because you shouldn't be," he declares through a heavy tongue and spinning head. You think you hear his voice crack with emotion when he continues, "I don't want you to sleep with him."

You're sure you're still dreaming as you take in his words. Since the moment you knocked on the door one floor above you, sleeping with Yuuji has never crossed your mind. You've been far too busy focusing on thinking about the man in front of you, who's wasted beyond belief and accusing you of something that not only doesn't make sense but hurts a bit.

He fumbles on his words, swallowing dryly and spiraling.

"You shouldn't sleep with him just because he walks around shirtless and invites you to hang out with us."

Your eyebrows pull downwards with what Megumi knows is hurt. He can't stop himself from talking or spewing nonsensical things just because he can.

Your voice is shaky when you plea, "Megumi, what?"

"I mean—he's my best friend, he's great," he throws his hands up to surrender the truth. "But we played video games and—and we kissed. And you're always looking at me with those eyes and—"

"Megumi," your voice comes tired now, cold. "You're drunk."

"You left with him. And you were whispering in his ear and touching his arm." He frowns, feeling sick just thinking about it again. He shakes the nightmare from his head when repeating his prior question.

"Are you sleeping with him?" he asks again, more accusatory this time around.

He watches your eyes fill with water, but it's not long-lived before you're blinking away any sign of weakness and cementing your walls up again.

"If you didn't notice," you spit with venom, "your friend is drunk off of his ass. I walked him home since he could barely stand on his own."

As if you're speaking another language, Megumi dumbly gapes at your confession.

"You—what?"

You press with ice in your words, "Walked him home. He's passed out on your couch right now."

"Oh." Megumi hadn't returned to his apartment before coming to yours. He'd walked home from the shitty party with one destination in mind, immediately talking the elevator to the fifth floor and finding your familiar floor.

He feels stupid, nauseous with guilt, and god, does his head hurt. His heart hurts too when you scoff and cross your arms in defense.

"Wanna go back to the part where you were practically calling me a slut?"

He cringes, "No, no god no, that's not what I was trying to—"

You don't give him the luxury of explaining himself. Turning your back and slamming the door, you take away his chance of redemption.

You sound unrecognizable when you tell him, "Go to fucking bed, Fushiguro."

.….

The birds outside of your window remind you that it's Sunday, and the open book on your desk reminds you that not only do you have class tomorrow, but you have an assignment due before midnight.

Memories of last night's conversation — if you could even call it that — with Megumi make you feel queazy. Nothing happened in the way you'd wanted. It all just spiraled out of control, like water slipping through a cracked ceiling, you'd just watched it leak without remorse.

The continued chirping outside reminds you that it's quiet, something you should use to your advantage. A light in this mess of a pathetic story.

You'll study, you decide. You'll grab a quick coffee from the cafe across the street and get some actual work done. Something you should've done a long time ago, something you’d ignored that ended up with this this heartbreak.

Not even ten minutes later, you're decent enough to slide your shoes on and grab your house keys. Opening the door into the hallway, you're met with familiar eyes.

Megumi looks disheveled, sitting with his knees up against the wall of your hallway. At your abrupt opening of the front door, he's quick to stand up and dust his pants off from the grime of the hallway carpet. You notice he has a paper bouquet of pinks and blues in his hand and an exhausted frown on his face.

When he looks at you, he can almost feel the air leaving your lungs as your stomach drops.

The first words you say to him are softer than he expects, than he thinks he deserves, but still carried by a look of disapproval.

"Were you here all night?" your lip turns with disgust.

"No—" he spews too quickly. Seeing your expression that clearly reads disbelief, he slows himself down. Taking a deep breath, he repeats himself with a bit more certainty. "No, I've been here since like, seven maybe?"

"Why?"

His hand trembles in a way he hopes you have the respect to ignore as he moves to give you the bouquet. "Because I'm sorry," his voice is steady, like he's been practicing in the mirror.

Choosing to make him work for it, your eyes flicker to the flowers unimpressed before finding his face again.

"For?" you cruelly push him further.

But Megumi's determined to meet your forces just as equally. His voice gains confidence as he speaks clearly, "For panicking and assuming the worst last night. I was drunk, but that's not an excuse. It was a douchebag thing to do."

Admiring how your face softens at his apology but still carries creased lines of worry, Megumi half expects your response.

"And?"

This is the part he's a bit unprepared for.

"And for leaving that night," his volume dips with the confession, eyes wanting to find comfort in the floor so badly but refusing to leave your own as he tries and tries and tries to fix this, "I..."

His lips move before he can think twice about his words, "I thought it was what you wanted."

His confession cracks something inside of you, like nails digging crescents into raw skin. Slowly, you gesture for him to come inside. He hesitates but follows when you move towards the couch, the same couch you'd straddled him on two nights prior. It looks different in the daylight.

Megumi's careful with each step, as if he's walking on eggshells, when he slowly sits beside you on the couch. Placing the bouquet on your table, he moves as if you're a predator, as if he'll make one wrong move and you'll snap, lurching at him and sinking your talons into his neck. You hate how it makes you feel.

Your words surprise the both of you when they eventually come. "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I wanted you to stay I just—felt bad."

Felt bad? Megumi's mind goes numb at the realization. Felt bad for him? Like when you do a good deed to cancel out a bad one? Did you kiss him that night because you pitied him?

Before his mind runs itself further into the worst-case scenario, he's brought back to reality as you continue.

"We were drunk, and I didn't want that to be how it happened y'know?"

He starts at you blankly, "It?" He lamely asks.

This time, it's your voice that weakens with shame. He watches you fiddle with your fingers, the same ones he remembers feeling in his hair and on his skin. The ones he wants to feel again.

"Felt like I was coming onto you, and you deserved better than that," you eventually reveal softly, correcting yourself with certainty. "Deserve better than that."

And he feels stupid. God, does Megumi feel stupid. All this time, he'd been thinking you regretted the why of the situation, kissing him like you did. He'd never stopped to think about the fact of how you did it. Never thought you'd be so inclined to consider his wishes.

You think he regrets it, and that is the last thing he wants you to believe.

Taking a risk, Megumi lays a gentle palm on your thigh. He does so slowly, giving you a chance to revolt and bite his hand clean off the bone. You don't so he relaxes his hand.

It's not sexual, not desperate and needy like how it was the other night. It's calm. comforting. Another way for him to say I'm still here, aren't I?

"I'm not great with words," he starts, "but I was very much into it. I need you to know that. You didn't—do anything I didn't want."

Softly and ignoring the criticism from the voice in your head for once, you nod.

You recognize the familiar pull of his lips when he softly grins. "Think it's pretty obvious now, but in case it's not," he leans into this whole communicating thing, "I really like being around you."

He thinks his heart grows a size when you weakly smile back at him, "You like being around me?"

He shrugs, laughing at your sarcasm. "Around you, with you. I guess I just like you, really."

You raise your eyebrows, challenging his statement, "Are you still drunk?"

"Fuck no."

You hum shortly. "Hungover?"

"Disgustingly so," he grimaces at the reminder of how nauseous he is.

"Thinking clearly?"

"Never really around you, but clear as I can be."

It's soft and sweet, and this is how you wanted it to be. Naturally, as if you're both magnets being pulled to one another, Megumi is carefully guiding you into his lap as you're naturally making yourself at home in his hold.

The position almost exactly mimics the one you'd found yourself in on Friday night, but this time, it's different. It feels different — golden instead of red and light with a newfound meaning.

With gentle eyes and slight nods from each of you, you kiss once more. His mouth moves the same, eager yet graceful as he leans into you. No wandering hands or drunken hiccups, you feel one another smile into the kiss until it is all giggles and teeth.

"Y'know, if you wanted to ask me out," you pull away from him, accusatory with an underlying teasing, "you should've just asked like a normal person instead of accusing me of sleeping with your friend."

Megumi groans in embarrassment, hiding his face in your neck. You feel the heat of his cheeks when he sighs.

"Yeah, that wasn't my finest moment."

Kisses are stolen and silence is shared until he yawns you remember how awful he must still feel from drinking so much. Crawling off of his lap, you ignore the butterflies in your stomach whines he whines at the loss of your weight.

"Want anything?" you call out as you walk towards the kitchenette. "I have Advil and a bagel with your name on it."

Megumi hums at the thought, not confirming or denying the offer, as his eyes remain locked in on you in a blissful comfort.

Your voice becomes more distant as you turn the corner, "I'll even give you those eyes I know you like so much."

A muffled sound of humiliation can be heard from the couch, "God, please forget I said that."

Putting the bagel in the toaster and reaching up to the medicine cabinet, you laugh carelessly.

"Never."

…..

Yuuji wakes up with a throbbing headache and an acidic burning in the back of his throat.

He groans, turning on his side before realizing that — he's not in his bed. With blurry vision and sweaty hands fumbling to survey the environment around him, he feels for his phone. The screen is far too bright and completely overridden of missed calls and texts, reading a mocking 2:14 PM when he groans.

When yelling Megumi's name a handful of times doesn't work (it usually does), he opens his Find My Friends app and tracks his roommate. Seeing his icon appear right next to his own while ironically hearing your echoing laughter ring from upstairs, he laughs.

Before he closes his eyes again and deals with a hangover from hell, he sends Megumi a text before tossing his phone across the room.

Ur welcome for not actually calling dibs.

[maybeanartist02]

i love how jamie porter subverts expectations like. you telling me the tall, quiet, winter-coded guy is actually Really Expressive, Smug, and an Enabler For Chaos? He's the last to speak, if he speaks. He's an extrovert. He's a tease. He likes puns and is sarcastic and a smartass. he tries to solve mystery novels' mysteries before the books over. he checks percys math homework for fun. he buys flowers for the vases percy buys. hes FULLY ON BOARD with a house made of only bean bags for sitting. hes got more manners than the average 22 year old man but he also says a dick joke.

im obsessed with him

[amememightywarrior]

Food in Dawntrail

Gonna go ahead and share my thoughts on it as posted on twitter, excuse the format!

I found the prevalence of food in DT's MSQ very interesting. In a lot of cultures, food and food-sharing are acts of love both familial and neighborly. It also symbolized a desire to reach out and understand one another, from xibruq pibil to tacos to ice cream to weird grapes.

Our first encounter with food in DT is when Wuk Lamat wants to give us some tacos, but then BJJ smashes them carelessly, a sign that he is rejecting sharing and love

During the lay of repast, which is ALL about food, we learn a lot about the symbolism of meals and food and culture. It's great. 

Zoraal Ja and Bakool Ja Ja are teamed up and shown to not understand or care about food and sharing despite the BLATANT emphasis on it in the trial.

More subtle stuff that isn't called out is the way food is raised - like the Crystarium, where wandering around can reveal the importance, if you wander around DT you can find an example of what's called the three sisters method of farming.

For those unfamiliar with this system, it's actually a very culturally important method of farming in the americas where 3 staple crops, maize, squash, and beans, are grown together in a harmonious fashion. and i mean TOGETHER.

The maize, which grows tall and strong, provides support for the beanstalks which curl around it and provide stabilization both physically and nutritionally. At their feet grows the ground-covering squash which shades the soil, keeping it moist and preventing weeds.

The next major time we learn of food and agriculture is in heritage found, where we see people preserving real food as an act of culture more than anything else, showing the resilience of culture and the spirit of sharing in even the most lightning riddled situations.

After that it gets interesting. The concept of food in S9 is abstracted into the absurd (the grapes??? help), but they still share the food. More than that, it's a SPECTATOR sport, seeing WoL and Wuk Lamat eat. If you've ever been to a dinner with a family of a different culture, you will know the experience of tasting a new cuisine for the first time, and people asking you what you think of it. They share their culture with you and hope you approve. It's the sharing of joy, and it's the same as when you eat in S9.

Then we're REALLY challenged. We enter living memory and find the inhabitants feasting on the mere idea of food. They share with us as well, giving us popcorn. Did you lie and say it was great? Did you speak the truth of your tastebuds and reject the popcorn?

The food in living memory is tasteless to us, the only real ones in the place. But the act of sharing, that was the real important part. And so perhaps if WoL lied, it was not to spare feelings, but to show that yes, they were sharing in joy and culture.

Thus introduced, we are hit with that ice cream. We know it tastes of nothing, but we give it to Krile and her parents to share. Krile knows it doesn't taste like anything, and she struggles. But G'raha zips in with his own, to make her laugh and help her understand the joy.

The way each character reacts to food within DT is symbolic and shows a bit of their own perspectives. Someone who's very out on the edges, Estinien, is also someone who has embraced food very heavily after being freed from Nidhogg. He runs around eating everything in sight now.

And of course we also have the cornservant, who wants to feed everyone. I haven't actually done that quest line yet but I can already tell you what's at the heart of it XD

A lot of this we all know, I'm just calling it out specifically because it was beautifully done in DT.

Oh, before I forget: Otis and Gulool Ja

Otis, despite being, er...mechanical, has been feeding Gulool Ja. It is a familial act, feeding and helping this child grow despite zero relation.

is it just another fetch quest? Another shared meal of many shared meals in the field? Or is it asking us to look at this meal in the context of all that came before it?

What does it mean to love and care for one another? Otis shows it by being there and feeding Gulool Ja.

It contrasts with two other parties: Cahciuna's group, and Zoraal Ja.

Zoraal Ja does nothing. He does not feed his child. Abandoned him outright. ZJ rejects family, love, and sharing.

Cahciuna's group is trying really hard to take care of him, and he does allow it because they keep finding and taking him home. But why does he run away to eat with Otis? Cahciuna's response to realizing he WANTS to leave is to allow it instead of insisting.

I find that rather mysterious but I think it shows Gulool Ja prefers organic sharing, not S9 where everything is simply handed to him. Hopefully we see more of him in the future so we can learn wtf is up with this little blue-scaled cutie.

Food takes a background role in a lot of stories but DT took it, explained it, and then challenged our understanding by taking away the most talked about component, stripping away flavor to ask us what the point of food-sharing really is and how it reflects ourselves & our culture.

We've seen a lot of these themes before - ARR used to have a whole thing about feeding the soldiers before the assault on the garlean strongholds, SHB had the infamous rhon ron food stand scene, etc

we just got it called out repeatedly and the concept gently deconstructed for us in DT. 

So. what does the act of food-sharing mean to you? What does it mean to your WoL? How did you see the Lay of Repast? What did you think of the popcorn?

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, can I request young Bot Buddy being Lost Light Ultra Magnus apprentice.

Buddy is a bubbly and friendly bot so after a few month of Buddy joining the Lost Light Ultra Magnus started showing a soft spot (likr accepting a nickname) and favoritism towards Buddy (in a fatherly way) which caused Rodimus to start complaining about it.

Sorry if my request is not that clear, thank you!

Another apprentice I see, lets do this.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy being Ultra Magnus's apprentice

SFW, Platonic, Slight Familial, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Buddy was one of the newest bots to join the crew.

Having been around during the final years of the war, they didn’t see much action and was instead put to organize and file important documents.

Seeing a chance to go off world and explore, they didn’t think twice in turning in the application.

Rodimus, Megatron and Ultra Magnus walking to the room. Rodimus: “It says here they are just to bots you’re looking for organizing your files.” Megatron: “And hopefully read your Primus awful penmanship.” Rodimus: “Hey!” Magnus opens the door letting them in. All three mechs do a double take. A youngling was sitting there swishing their pedes back and forth and happily waved at them. They stand up and shake each of their servos. Buddy: “Hi! I’m Buddy! I’m your newest recruit and will be handling all data organization and lettering!” Magnus: “You’re…” Buddy: “Young? I get that a lot, but I promise sir it will not interfere—” Rodimus: “How did you even get in through the scanner? It would have stopped at your age. You’re practically a sparkling!” Buddy: “Sir, I’m not a sparkling and there is an answer to that.” Megatron: “What is it?” Buddy pulls out a data pad. Buddy: “There was a glitch in the system. When the system put me in, it placed the age of the bot before me.” Buddy turns off the data pad and pulls out a crate. Buddy: “I took the liberty of reorganizing the rest of your applications in alphabetical, numerical, color coded, and least likely to appear as Prowl—” Rodimus: “You’re practically Magnus’s child. Welcome aboard!”

The news of a youngling being on the ship spread around quickly.

Some already meeting the youngling already feeling obligated to keep this little ray of sunshine away from some crewmembers.

Crewmembers who have also tried keeping the little bean from ‘unusual bots’.

Swerve notices Buddy blinking sleepily. Swerve: “Magnus and Meg’s working you up the wall?” Buddy: “Nah, just tired. Might call it a night.” Swerve: “I can get a fellow bot to walk ya back to your habsuite.” Buddy: “Thanks Swerve but I’ll be—EEPP!” Whirl had picked them up from under their arms and put them under his arm like a football. Whirl: “Make way! The sparkling has stayed up past their bedtime!” Buddy: “I’m not a sparkling!” Whirl: “Tell me that when you drink engex and not get Magnus angry kid.”

Speaking of Magnus, the tall mech clearly had a soft spot for them.

And thinks he is concealing well… which is the biggest lie in the ship.

It is as clear as First Aid’s obsession with Wrecker badges.

Here are two prime examples.

Exhibit A.

The nickname.

It was well known that Magnus HATED nicknames.

Even a shorten version of his name was enough to trigger a speech about the importance of using one’s proper name, even in casual conversation.

That was not the case with Buddy.

At Swerve’s… Magnus and Rodimus walk in. Buddy is sitting with Tailgate and Cyclonus. They spot Magnus and walk over to him. Buddy: “I already have your orders ready.” Magnus: “Drinks or the reports?” Buddy: “both.” Magnus gives a small smile. Magnus: “Good work.” Buddy smiles. Buddy: “See you around Mag’s!” Rodimus, Tailgate, Cyclonus and several bots who heard the conversation freeze prepared to see Buddy get a speech. It didn’t happen. Rodimus: “They—what just—Mag’s?” Magnus: “Don’t call me that.” Rodimus: “They just--!”

Many bots brushed it off as Magnus not hearing what Buddy said.

Others were sure their audials malfunctioned because there was no way Buddy said that to his face and did not go unpunished.

Final, Exhibit B.

Ship accidents.

Living on the Lost Light meant living through unpredictable incidents and accidents.

Magnus was especially aware of them when he noticed that he started having a soft spot for the youngling.

He wanted to make sure that Buddy was safe and knew what to do in case they were not near him.

Rodimus: “You know, I never thought you’d have favorites Magnus.” Magnus: “I do not have favorites Rodimus.” Drift: “There was an explosion near the lab.” Magnus: “Is Buddy, okay?” Rodimus and Drift: “…” Magnus now noticed what he just said. Magnus: “I mean… I meant…” Rodimus sighs and pats his shoulder. Drift: “It was a glitter bomb. Any bot near it is going to be shiny for the next couple of days. No one got hurt.” Buddy comes running in looking like a party threw up on them. Buddy: “Who was going to tell me glitter exists!?”

[liltallbean]

I have a new pack of diapers coming in today that are sooooo damn cute and are gonna make me feel so damn small…I’m blushing just thinking about them rn 🙈

[queenendless]

💗 Cafe Time 💗

A/n: Imma count this as an April Fool's prank cause it's kinda nonsense.

AU centric where JJK cast here are chibis, as is everyone else in this world, and you are the sole normal sized human there.

Cute fluffy filled crack nonsense that is short as hell and cause I've wanted to write chibi stuff for a long time.

Itafushi, NobaMaki, and HaiNana crumbs here and there but SatoSugu x GN!Reader in the end.

DON'T REPOST, PLAGARIZE, COPY, EDIT, TRANSLATE AND/OR STEAL MY FANFIC CONTENT. IF YOU ENJOY MY CONTENT THEN REBLOG, LIKE, COMMENT & FOLLOW PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

AND HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S! 💌

The tale of a regular sized normie getting teleported to a Japan where everyone but themselves is chibi sized.

Their resisting negation to cursed energy that in the strongest in the country leads to your immediate discovery and recruitment into a place to stay as well as work by a burly mid aged bearded man with shades.

Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College Cafe.

Your newfound workplace and home. Where you met some regulars that quickly became your favorites.

“L/n-san~!” Dear Yuji lifted the cookie atop him, smothered in whipped cream with a bright smile and a wave reserved for you. “Eat me~! Just kidding~!”

Your pinky finger gently ruffled his salmon haired head. “Your teasing is very much warranted, you precious boi.”

In the parfait cup filled with ice cream, whipped cream and berries, a storm cloud raged atop Megumi's brooding head. “Get me outta here or I will shatter this glass.”

Yuji's face became pale with doom, hissing at you conspiratory. “He ain't kidding.”

You reached down and pulled out said grumpy Megumi who took the shinigami dog shaped candy, bashfully thanked you, and shyly pecked you on the cheek, compelling you to smooch him right on the nose. “Favorite tsundere here.”

You dropped him down on table level for Yuji to smother his boi in a good old bear hug; his infectious smile causing his emo bae to blush and ease into it and smile back.

“Maki-san~! Nibble on me~!” Nobara sung suggested cozied smack dabbed in her macaron.

“You idiot. Why did you have to admit that out loud? Here of all places?” Maki murmured, bashfully blushing, looking away amiss her red bean filled pancake sandwich.

“Maki-san! I love you~!” An unashamed Nobara rushed outta her macaron to tackle Maki into a bean pasted draped hug.

“Here.” You lifted off their pancake cover before handing a decent sized handkerchief to the girls as you passed by, earning winks of thanks from the pair before their stained faces grew messier as they commended a make out session under said hankie.

“Konbu! Tsuna Tsuna! Mentaiko!” The orange topped Toge waves eagerly at you from his perched spot on his own cupcake.

“I see you my boi and I've missed you too.” Your offered finger was taken by the rice ball speaking boi, swinging him to land before Panda lounging in the middle of a smore treat.

“Give me a hand, little buddy, tall buddy.”

“Takana!” Toge's mini hand and your long finger were more than enough to pull the fuzzy cursed doll out, though the chocolate sauce and marshmallows stuck to his fur.

You magically pulled out a wet rag to clean him up, humming at the now pristine baby. “My gift to you, my precious Panda.”

“L/n-san! Lift off please and thank you~!”

You picked up Yu's back collar to place him atop his fruit sandwich for him to slide down the creamy path, bumping right into Nanami. “Sandwich slide, hazah~!”

“Why must you condone this nonsense?” Kento commented through a mouthful of his subway sandwich, lightly bopping Haibara on his noggin as an attempted scolding.

“He's your partner. You tell me.” Your sassiness made the stern Nanami purse his lips at you in defiance but had Haibara chortling to his further annoyance, firmly tugging on his cheeks to gargle those noises, only amusing his partner more, finally doing here and now to kiss him just to keep him quiet.

Haibara's face glowed all smitten like. “Aw I love you too – !”

“Hush you and eat.” Nanami couldn't suppress a grin as he ate his subway with his favorite boi.

“Job well done, fellow yaoi buddy.” Shoko snorted at what she just saw, lounging in her lemon tea sponge cake, raising her small palm for you to give a carefully slow high five indeed.

“Keep your hands to yourself, assassin.” Riko narrowed dagger eyes at the scarred man across the room, cherry atop her head as she floated in a literal ice cream soda float.

“Riko-sama, be cautious, now.” Misato cautioned her, doing her best to stay blended within her fruity spread.

“I think he's retired from that lifestyle now.” You assured the pair, settling their nerves down when you handed them a plush doll with two eyes, eight legs and horns for them to cuddle and ride on.

“Suguru~ They're so pretty~!” Satoru plopped red bean paste sweetness into his mouth as he watched you move to and fro throughout the cafe.

Suguru munched on the cherry that sat atop with him on the cupcake. “Despite the major height difference, I will admit they look docile.”

“In that case – !” Gojo got down on one knee. “Marry us please~!”

Geto nearly choked. “Toru, we're still dating!”

Gojo got up to kiss him fully on the lips. “Well, we've practically been wedded since day one so …”

Geto's eyes crinkled with tender mirth, humming as he kissed back. “Can't argue with that logic.”

Grabbing his hand, the albino of the two floated them both on up high to reach you. “Plus, a poly ship is very sexy~”

The fact that the iconic strongest pair landed on either shoulder to kiss you simultaneously on your cheeks touched your heart.

“Aw, I – MMPH!”

The super human chibi that is Toji threw his bagel like a Frisbee disk right into your mouth. “Oi. You. This donut ain't cuttin’ it for me. Get me some beer, huh?”

“Dad!” Megumi snapped on your behalf.

“He is a beast.” Yuji anxiously sweated at the alarmingly impressive feat.

“I wanna duel him even more now.” Maki, a fellow non-cursed fighter, got fired up after peaking outside to witness his simple yet stellar stunt.

“Eh!? We already called dibs!” Gojo flared up, steam coming outta his ears.

“Hands off, monkey.” Geto emanated pure unfiltered hatred for the brute killer.

All three men had their eyes cast in shadow as literal sparks of agitation flew between them, ruining the cozy vibe of the cafe.

Able to chew and swallow that bagel up, you could speak again. “Knock yourself out, you beast.” Whisking out a jug of booze outta the blue, you knew the superhuman killer could take it, his smug self already chugging it down with one hand.

“Physically gifted,” Yuji and Maki breathed out in amazement.

“As I was gonna say,” you cupped your hands out for GoGe to sit on, your e/c eyes sparkling down at them, “Of course I'll marry you two. Size and all.”

A giggling Satoru and an amused Suguru are over the moon with your acceptance, bringing them close enough for them to smooch your lips in unison.

However later, you got an earful of “Goddamn” from your chibi sized boss at giving someone alcohol at his fine establishment.

But, you could tolerate it.

All these cuties make it all worth it.

Especially your new beaus.

[viaviv124]

Homicipher incorrect quotes

Mc: speaking of surprises, Crawly

Crawling: yea?

Mc: i've got something up my sleeve

Crawling: is it... A banana?

Mc: nO! It's an automated gun torrent! :D

Crawling: we're going to a candy store!?

Silvair: what? No! Candy stores are closed!

Gap: WE'RE GONNA ROB A CANDY STORE!? :D

Chopped: omagod u so tall you look like a giraffe :D

Scarletella: that's why you dead built like a baked bean

Chopped: a ba- A BAKED BEAN!? *bites his foot* BAKE BEAN THAT. BEAK BEAN THAT!

Mc: you're under arrest! Scarletella! Scar-face! Scar-poopy-poopy-butt!

Scarletella: you may be the- dont you ever fucking call me that again

Mc: what would you do if i was kidnapped?

Crawling: obviously come find yo-

Hood: nothing

Silvair: wait 20 minutes until they let you go voluntarily

Machete: i killed your entire family

Mc: huh? But i live alone-

Machete: huh? Then who were these people in your house-

Mc: there's people in my house!?

Machete: well not anymore! Dumb bitch! You could've died! You're welcome!

Mc: Crawly am i ugly?

Crawling: nonsense, you're the most beautiful girl in the world, i see you right now!

Hooded Child: Hood am i ugly :D

Hood: very much.

Mc: hold on, the phone's calling. Hello?

Telephone Guy: how do you say uh corn in cantonese?

Mc: sok mai?

Telephone Guy: HAHA SOK MAI NUTS *hangs up*

Mc: ... Well they're not my friend anymore.

Scarletella to MC: so i send u a lil smiley face

So you send back a lil smiley face

So i write hey

And you write back hey

And i say hey what

And you say you said hey first?

And then i say okay

Crossaint emoji

Fuck u

Chopped: smile :D

Bride: sweet :D

Nurse: sister :D

Silvair: sadistic :D

Gap: surprise :D

Crawling: service :D

Stitch: CRAWLING IS A BITCHASS MOTHERFUCKER

*cue music*

Mc: name a country that starts with V!

Silvair: venezuela!

Machete: FINLAND! FINLAND

Silvair: OH MY DAYS. LOW IT. YOU SAID WHAT???

Machete: finland?

Silvair: DON'T CHAT TO ME. YOU'RE JOKING

Silvair: SHE SAID F MAN

Machete: what did u say

Mc: V?

Silvair: v.

Machete: VENUS

Silvair: ARGHHH

Mc: you wanna take things up to the bedroom?

Human: sure. ...what's up there?

Mc: btw did you bring protection

Human: WHY WHATS UP THERE!?

Chopped: i am very small. And i have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress that i am under.

Scarletella: and without looking up at me Hood said "You have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair"

Machete: am i boring? Sure. Social skills? None. But i'm loyal if you feed me and i will never leave you because, well, i need the food.

Crawling: i wouldnt wish that on my worst enemy-

Hood: i would. I would wish it on my worst enemy and then a whole list of other people that dont even qualify as my worst enemy. I'm not "above things" and at this point i'm existing out of spite

Gap: Your uber instincts cant handle my uber autism. Observe.

[insert him being in the fucking textbox an yoinking mc through it, escaping scar]

MC: You enter the dungeon, and on the far end of the room, you see... a door!

Masque: Can I seduce the door?

MC: No you cannot.

Stitch: Can I seduce the door?

MC: ALSO NO.

Crawling: Can I punch Stitch?

MC: ... Uh Stitch you take 4 damage

Stitch: Well I transform into a beaver.

MC: You... do that.

Stitch: Now can I seduce the door?

MC: STILL, NO

Crawling: I punch Stitch again.

MC: 3 more damage.

Machete: Can I fight the door?

MC: No!

Wheelchair: I also would like to fight the door!

MC: NO ONE CAN FIGHT THE DOOR.

Machete: I FIGHT. THE DOOR.

MC: You lose!

Machete: I fight you.

MC: Machete, take a walk!

Scarletella: Is the door dead or alive?

MC: ITS A DOOR?

Scarletella: Can I enslave its soul?

MC: How would you- No!

Chopped: Can I build a better door?

MC: ... Do you want to build a better door?

Chopped: I acquire lumber from the surrounding forest!

MC: Okay you do that.

Silvair: ... Is the door locked?

MC: No it isnt!

Silvair: I open the door.

MC: You do so! Inside is one small treasure chest!

Masque: I seduce the treaure chest~

MC: NO.

[doodle-pops]

The Ainur | With A Short Reader

Request: Can I make a request for headcanons for how the Ainur would be with a short human reader? Around 5 foot tall? Like an elf of about 6 feet would only reach up to some of their chest or lower still, considering they’re like 7-9 foot tall. Would they be cute, teasing, protective, frustrated by the height difference? P.s. I love the way you characterise all the Ainur, it really feels like their personality, you do a fantastic job. - anon

A/N: Happy to fulfil this request and learn that you enjoy my characterisations of them anon. I tend to envision the Ainur as nothing less than nine feet since they are deities and display their power through their heights. So you’re going to appear super short next to them. Nonetheless, Enjoy!

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Manwë

The bird was too stunned to speak. Are you a child or dwarf, certainly that could not be your final height at the end of your growth? Unfortunately, it is your complete height which makes you appear as a little bird before the great King. Now his nickname ‘little bird’ makes more sense.

He cannot fathom how you can be the same size as a bean and packed with all that sass whenever he mentions how tiny you are. You require a ladder if you ever reach his head for a ‘level-headed’ talk.

Has no issue picking you up with one hand and carrying you around like his personal comfort toy when he’s having a bad day. Anyone commenting or teasing gets a look that speaks about them receiving a bolt of lightning.

Let us not forget his avian side which is going to fawn over how adorable you are. You’re tiny and squishy, perfect for belonging in his nest where he can shower you in affection all day long.

The size difference is outstanding. Just picture a baby lying in their parents' bed, looking like a little nugget among the pillows…that’s what you appear like anytime you snuggle in his bed. On numerous occasions, he didn’t see you and almost squished you under the sheets.

With your size, it means wearing his robes and marching around his room or Ilmarin pretending to be him while he silently watches from afar. You are drowning in his robes, don’t even wear his shirt, it’s a gown on you.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Irmo

Your size doesn’t change the way he’s going to shower you with ultimate love and affection. Apart from the minor teasing he’ll conduct for the fun of the situation, Irmo loves you the same way if you are tall.

A gentleman who enjoys using the opportunities when granted to lift you over puddles or streams so he can fawn over how you fit in his arms. He (and the others) can lift you with his pinkie and has done it before.

You are authorised to always sleep on his chest—you look like a kitten sleeping on his chest in his eyes—mainly because you like to roll and so does he and nothing good has arisen from you both rolling together.

Gets lost in crowds and he panics. He’ll be walking around asking if anyone has seen his little lover and he will give descriptions. “They’re about 5 feet, this short and very tiny. They look like an elfling…”

Saw children’s clothing on a walk with you in a boutique, did not know they were for children and excitedly stated, “Oh look! I believe these would look lovely on you! They even have your colours.”

Do not be upset with him, he didn’t know that it was children’s clothing. Irmo only wished to share the moment of shopping with you. But worry not, he gathers the best seamstresses and tailors to fashion you the finest wear that looks nothing like children’s clothes.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Námo

Has a smile on his face anytime you take the lead and walk in front of him, hence his reason for always telling you to lead the way. He’s a simple Vala, he wants to watch as you waddle like a duck with your short legs as you take him to Eru knows where.

Pretends to complain when you ‘borrow’ his robes because you missed him, but gushes mentally at the sight of how you’re drowning in his forever monochromatic black robes.

His viridian eyes were soft at the sight of you walking around, dragging his robes all over. The idea of complaining about getting them dirty has disappeared, and all he is thinking about is how you look like a penguin.

Your feet running across his halls are the equivalent of tiny pitter-patter and it’s how he can easily distinguish your presence; just listen for the tiny footsteps. But it never works out well when you’re among elves and lost in a crowd.

The first time you met his brother, Irmo mistook you for a child Námo adopted and congratulated his brother on softening up to the idea of children. To make matters worse, you played along—much to Námo’s annoyance—and clung to his arm, calling him ‘atar/daddy’.

Irmo was elated, you were dying of laughter and Námo was contemplating his life. He couldn’t believe this was the humour he signed up for the moment he fell in love with someone shorter than most individuals.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Ulmo

Mistook you for the child wandering the shores the first time he saw you in the distance and scolded you for playing in the deep waters without parental supervision. That was until he learned you weren’t a child and your permanent height for a lifetime.

‘Pebble’ was the most suitable nickname he gifted you since pebbles were small and cute…like you. Plus, he brings you pebbles, seashells and pearls from the ocean floor as a token of affection.

Because you’re smaller, your strokes as you swim alongside him are slower, so he’ll call the seals, dolphins or whales to swim alongside you for assistance. You’re even allowed to ride them anytime you two are swimming out in the depths.

Since Ulmo’s true form is staggering, he opts to appear around the same height as you are anytime he has to walk the earth. His favourite place to have walks would be the beach obviously.

Hand holding while watching the sunset and he’s quietly staring at your short fingers holding his larger hand. He loves holding your hand to fawn over the size. He would even slip on a cute ring with a pearl one day.

Because Ulmo is known for having no resting place as he wanders the waters of the world, he enjoys visiting your home. It’s even better if you live near a lake for him to have easier access to seeing you frequently. Cue Ulmo marvels at how small your household items are as he picks them up.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Oromë

Congratulations, you are the perfect size to sit on all of his creatures (and him) to ride through the forest with him. He cannot get over your tiny figure because he knows that you’re about the same size as an elfling and all his creatures are larger than you.

Roughhousing is a thing that occurs between you both and he gets caught up in the experience to forget how easily he can send you on a trip to Estë for healing…because it has happened multiple times.

Picks you up like a sack of potatoes and slings you over his shoulder when he has to carry you somewhere and you’re being troublesome, or he wants to randomly surprise you. You’re as light as a feather as he runs with you through the forest.

Swinging from his muscular arms anytime he flexes his muscles for you? Yes, yes you do, and he loves it. Fuels his ego to know that he’s strong and his lover can climb him like a tree. Clinging to his muscular physique and probably biting him? Yes, you do that he calls you a tiny beast who needs to be tamed.

Not the type to underestimate the size of a creature you can ride because of your size but is also cautious at the same time. Wanted to gift you a Shetland pony because you were small enough to ride one, but back out last minute knowing that he would receive an earful. Gave you a giant-sized tiger or dog as a companion.

You wear his pelts and pretend to act like him, attempting to wield his bow—sweetheart, you couldn’t even draw the strings—as though you were hunting.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tulkas

No different from Oromë and will playfight with you using the strength in his pinkie finger and you’d still have to bandage some body parts because accidents happen all the time. No worries though, he praises your injuries and makes you feel as though you fought a great battle with him.

He has no doubts, dismisses your strengths and associates them with your size having seen many great warriors display outstanding strengths and feats despite their size. Instead, he encourages you to take pride in your size and all the greatness you can accomplish.

You got a workout buddy, or rather he got a new dumbbell to lift or someone to sit on his back for push-ups. Your weight is inconsequential, but it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the fun in the moment.

Also picks you up like a sack of potatoes and carries you around the place, introducing you to all his close friends and elves. Anytime you need to speak ‘eye-level’ with him, instead of going to lengths to climb tables or a tree, he’ll kneel to your level.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Melkor

Getting called dwarf, child, or both the first time you meet will result in him changing the names and calling you a critter if you attempt to attack him for calling you short. Probably ‘ankle biter’ might be your new name because he denoted that small things have the most rage.

You’re a ferocious ankle-biter in his eyes whose nerves he enjoys getting on because your responses are hilarious. It’s all in jest…or maybe not.

Nothing of his will ever fit you, that also means trying to wear his crown with the Silmarils. It’s currently sitting on your neck as we speak. All you can do is make versions of his outfits tailored to your size.

You’re smaller, so his hands can cover your entire face. Know what that means? Squish your cheeks as you speak to admire how soft and dough-like they are. “Hm, ankle biter, you have remarkably soft cheeks,” he says while squishing your face.

There’s nothing you can climb on to meet his height because he makes sure that there isn’t anything around. He wants you to break your neck looking up at him (bite his ankles and he’ll reach your height).

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Eönwë

“You’re like a hummingbird minus the speed,” he chuckled upon the first sight of your tiny figure. You were lucky he didn’t consider you a lost child who wandered before him in search of help because he was ready to call you ‘child’.

I have to say, Eӧnwё is the best person to try the same ‘daddy’ prank on when you’re walking through the streets of Valimar but clinging to him and acting like a child for the elves to fawn over how adorable the interaction is. There is always an elf who inquires for you to look them in the eye and say, “This is my atya!”

His avian side adores your tininess; and makes you all the more delicate and squishable. You are never again going to leave the nest…just joking, but his protective side goes up a notch because you are TINY.

I mean, he loses you in a crowd easily and you can’t even jump high enough to show your location. You can climb a table or chair but still have to get past the sea of heads before Eӧnwё spots you.

Gets you the smaller version of everything so you don’t have to struggle with holding the larger objects. He once watched as you climbed a chair as if it were a mountain or fought with a glass of wine because the glass was too big to hold.

At least going on flights doesn’t change whether you’re extra small or bigger. Visits in the morning and takes you to watch the sunrise over the mountain from a bird’s eye view.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Tilion

Doesn’t matter if you’re tiny or tall, you still look the same from his view in the sky as he guides the moon. But he does melt at the sight of you looking up at the moon.

You are forever his ‘little deer’ even though you’re probably feisty and love to bite or nibble on his arms all the time. Similar to Oromë, carries you around like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder, but more for the fun of watching your short legs dangle.

Doesn’t alter the size of any furniture so he can observe your legs dangling over the edges and sway, or the size difference between you and the table designed for a nine-foot entity.

Roughhousing is a constant must-have between you both because he adores pinning your smaller body under his and making you fight back. Tilion just wants to watch you struggle and wiggle like a worm. Bite him.

Puts you to sleep on top of him because it is the safest option unless you want to be crushed under a giant nine-foot Maia, and you look like a tiny kitten curled up on his chest. The only thing he hasn’t done is pick you up by your scruff.

He’s such a tease when it comes to you both riding through the forest. Tilion will purposefully place you behind him so you can’t see a thing and then tease you about being too small. But it’s all in jest because he’ll have you ride an elk or reindeer or even a pony that was handpicked to match your size.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Mairon

He also assumed you’re an ankle biter as well because he called you short and you were ready to attack. Please, do not release him from your tyranny because he will make fun of your height and pat your head or rest his arm atop your head when he’s resting. Again, bite him.

Complains about your short legs and how slow you are when you’re walking side-by-side but comes to you later to ask for assistance because some tool of his fell into a small hole and you’re tiny enough to get it.

Tells you that he’ll feed you to his wolves if you don’t stop clinging to him when in truth, he loves it. You’re small enough to not be a distraction as he moves about his forge or the fortress, but it’s just Mairon being a tsundere.

Doesn’t see you lying in his bed because his bed is huge and you’re extra small, so he almost lies atop your body. It’s turned into a staring match like how children stare you down without blinking.

Has a tendency to carry you around, for funsies, by holding onto your belt or grabbing the back of your clothes so you dangle as he powers through the corridors until he arrives at his Lord holding you like a briefcase.

Deep down, as much as he teases your size, he enjoys the differences. Watching you fight to lift an object made for his size or dress in his clothes—if you’re brave enough to try this—is entertaining.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Any enemies to lovers future AU Sterek fics? At first they annoy each other just as much as they used to, but ofc that changes. Thanks, ur awesome

Oh definitely.

magical protection at the hands of a snarky spark by sychia_rin

(1? I 341 I General)

Stiles stormed his way through the room. The ward he literally just made felt broken.

He eyed the tall man standing on the balcony as he turned to face him, he quirked up an eyebrow looking as shocked as that grumpy face could get him. He must be some newbie guard.

"I just put that ward there shitface. Shoo," Stiles motioned for him to move. The guard stood in place, watching Stiles as he stomped closer.

....

Where an overworked Stiles works for the (royalish?) Hale family doing magical tasks. Vaguely Merlin inspired if you squint.

royal blue fits better with Derek by 08JustLizeth80

(1/1 I 3,129 I Mature)

Where Derek Hale is the prince of England and Stiles is the (extremely) ineloquent and mouthy first son of the United States.

Or

Where Stiles thinks royalty is such an archaic concept it shouldn’t even exist (which has nothing to do with his inadequate and totally not existing crush on the prince).

Knot Your Typical College Romance by stilesanderek (minxxx)

(1/1 I 51,546 I Explicit)

In which Stiles loves studying at Beacon Hills Supernatural University and even though he loves his group of friends, he just wishes that Derek wasn't included in it. Stiles hates the guy fiercely, and he knows it's completely mutual, and what he also knows it's completely mutual is the hate boner they both have going on for each other. What happens after they finally hookup after years of tension, though, isn't something Stiles ever signed up for.

“Shut the fuck up, Stilinski,” Derek hisses, their foreheads less than half a dozen of inches apart.

“Oh yeah, big guy?” Stiles says, stuffing his chest in defiance, licking his mouth once and then finally saying, “Make me.”

all you have is your fire by hansuckss

(7/? I 20,624 I Mature)

“Why wouldn’t I? I mean, if it’s a matter of saving someone’s life. You know,” Derek smirked. “There are lots of things I can do for an hour.”

Everyone knows they can count on Stiles Stilinski, the most composed paramedic at the fire station, and he takes pride in his work. At least until a new firefighter shows up. The newest firefighter-in-training, Derek Hale, is a former football player with a huge hero complex and limitless energy. And until fate brings them together, Stiles can put up with the man's presence. Sparks fly—not in a positive way. The fact that Derek is hotter than the fires he puts out and annoyingly charming doesn't help.

Help Wanted (But Not Really) by reillyblack

(9/9 I 26,096 I Mature)

"Stiles, I'll clear up your confusion about the position. Derek here needs someone to live with him. He's a difficult person to live with, so I won't sugarcoat that. But his responsibilities at the company right now make it impossible for him to actually take care of himself and his home. That would be your job," Laura explained.

Both Stiles and Derek objected at the same time.

Five Times Detective Stilinski and Fire Captain Hale Had Sex In Public, and One Time They Did It In A Bed by bleep0bleep

(7/7 I 32,853 I Explicit)

"Did you say--" Stiles starts.

"What?" Derek growls.

"We're not a couple!" they both retort in unison.

"We're not together," Stiles insists.

Lydia coughs pointedly. "An incident report filed by 87th Precinct Captain Erica Reyes. March twenty-fifth, eight p.m. Came back to the precinct to grab my coat, only to hear Stilinski banging his new boyfriend in the holding cell."

Words Cannot Espresso How Much You Bean to Me by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 68,366 I Teen)

“You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

“You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”

Like it or Not by Halevetica

(56/56 I 80,902 I Not Rated)

Stiles works as the editorial assistant at Vogue. He loves everything about his job except for his boss, Derek Hale. Derek Hale is the worst and Stiles hates him. But when Derek drags him to the yearly awards dinner within the company, he is forced to play boyfriend for the night to make Derek's ex jealous. Things couldn't get much worse...or so Stiles thought.

(Fuck you they said) As they threw their threads from their wedding bed by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

(9/9 I 96,199 I Mature)

First Son Stiles Stilinski just accidentally caused an international incident. And apparently the only way to save human-werewolf relations is to marry him off to Prince Derek of Triskele. Stiles is going to need all of his acting skills to make the marriage look real, because the Prince is kind of a fucking asshole.

Enemy Lines by qhuinn (tekla)

(17/17 I 149,179 I Explicit)

This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.

Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.

Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.

The Final Pack by Kedreeva

(33/33 I 428,148 I Mature)

Humankind is fighting its way back from near extinction against the supernatural beings that fed upon the remaining humans in the aftermath of the 2012 apocalypse. On the front lines, Stiles' best friend gets bitten by a werewolf and Stiles must strike a bargain with wolves in order to save him.

[fairilia]

୧ ‧₊˚ ☕️ Sweet Spills ⋅ ☆

𐙚 Pairing: wonbin x f!reader

𐙚 Genre: fluff fluff fluff

𐙚 Warning: slight jealousy?? lmao

𐙚 Summary: In a cozy café, a clumsy coffee spill brings you and a good looking man together. Bonding over your love for Haruki Murakami, weekly meetings turn into a budding romance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The cozy café on the corner of Gangnam Street is your favorite retreat. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans, the gentle hum of soft jazz, and the warm, inviting ambiance make it the perfect place to lose yourself in a good book. Every week, you nestle into your favorite armchair by the window, a novel in hand, savoring the tranquility.

One rainy afternoon, as you reach for the creamer on the counter, your elbow knocks into someone passing by. Hot coffee splashes across a white shirt, and you gasp in horror. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

The victim of your clumsiness, a tall man with an endearing smile and kind eyes, looks down at the stain before chuckling. "It's alright. Accidents happen."

Flustered, you grab a handful of napkins and start dabbing at the spill. "Really, I'm so sorry. Let me buy you another coffee to make up for it."

He accepts your offer, and you end up sharing a table. His name is Wonbin, and as you talk, you discover a shared love for Haruki Murakami. Your conversation flows effortlessly, delving into your favorite novels and characters. What begins as an awkward mishap turns into a delightful exchange, and soon, you find yourselves meeting every week to discuss your latest reads.

⠀ 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Over time, your feelings for Wonbin grow. His passion for literature mirrors your own, and his presence becomes something you look forward to with increasing anticipation. Each meeting is a highlight of your week, and you cherish the moments you spend together.

One day, as you enter the café, your heart sinks. Wonbin is sitting at your usual table, but he isn't alone. A beautiful woman sits across from him, laughing at something he has said. They look close, and you feel a pang of jealousy and sadness.

You force yourself to approach them, putting on a brave face. "Aha…hi, Wonbin."

Wonbin looks up, his smile widening when he sees you. "Hey! Come join us. This is my sister, Minji. Minji, this is the friend I was telling you about."

Relief washes over you, and you can't help but smile back. "It's nice to meet you, Minji."

Minji grins. "I've heard so much about you. Wonbin talks about you all the time."

You blush, glancing at Wonbin who seems a bit embarrassed. "Really? All good things, I hope."

"Absolutely," Minji says with a wink before standing up. "I'll leave you two to your book talk. It was nice meeting you!"

As Minji leaves, you take your usual seat, your heart fluttering with newfound hope. You resume your discussion, but you can't help but feel a sense of nervous excitement.

After your usual chat about Murakami's latest novel, Wonbin takes a deep breath, looking a bit nervous himself. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you."

Your heart skips a beat. "What is it?"

Instead of answering right away, Wonbin reaches into his bag and pulls out a beautifully wrapped book. "I got this for you," he says softly. "It's a first edition of 'Norwegian Wood,' one of your favorites."

Your eyes widen in surprise and delight. "Wonbin, this is incredible. Thank you so much."

He smiles, looking a bit more confident now. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted to give you something special because... because you've become very special to me."

Your heart races as he takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I really enjoy our time together. More than just our shared love for books, I think I've developed feelings for you," he confesses, his eyes earnest and sincere. "I'd love to spend more time with you, not just here at the café, but outside as well. Would you be open to that?"

As he speaks, his other hand gently caresses your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. The gesture is tender, and you can feel your heart melting.

A wide smile spreads across your face as your heart soars. "Yes, Wonbin, I'd love that."

With that, a new chapter begins. Your weekly meetings continue, but now with the promise of something more. You explore your city together, sharing experiences and creating memories that go beyond the pages of your beloved books. And as you grow closer, you realize that the café where you met will always hold a special place in your heart—a place where a spilled coffee leads to something beautiful.

—

💌: first oneshot for riize! will do eunseok next < 3

[ruinix]

Quinn is such a hardworking lil canuck. Look at him go, maintaining the puck, holding his stick, skating-slash-zooming on ice.

They were celebrating here but alas, quinn looked so done coz he blinked. 🤣🤧 Silly quinn. That can't be helped. He gotta blink when he gotta.

For some reason, everyone is suddenly three-apples-tall when myers is there. He's such a tall bean stalk (/positive /lighthearted). Also, Quinn appears to be the same height as everyone else. What is this sorcery? Jk it's the perspective (or whatever it's called).

I know I already posted this, but let's talk about this. Quinn with his eyebrow arched and Millsy near him. It's like a small kid telling on his dad that he has been wronged. Like someone took away his fave toy or his food. Poor lil canuck, go, speak your peace with Millsy.

Side note, I want someone to be mic'd up. That someone being Quinn Hughes coz he is speaking (as he should as a captain) even though his lips hurt.

Lastly, this picture. Oh my goodness. Two captains in one shot. The level of skill they have. Both are well rounded players. Quinn is an absolute unit as a offensive defenseman. Sasha is a great two-way player (good offense and defense; isnt he considered a defensive offense? Not sure. But for me, yes. Pls correct me?). I love these two so much.

Full pictures:

From getty (Derek Cain and Jeff Vinnick)

(Florida Panthers @ Vancouver Canucks, December 12, 2024)