#there's a special place in my heart that is just for you and it's full of light and love
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yourjinworld · 1 day ago
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Always and forever in my <3 ...
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'‱.¾♡ JONGHYUN♡¾.‱' ✩ ♬ ₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧ Always Love You ♡
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insidekatmind · 3 days ago
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The Sweetness of Coming Home ~ Jobe Bellingham
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Jobe was exhausted as he headed home after an especially grueling day of training. His muscles burned, and he felt the weight of long hours spent on the field. But he couldnïżœïżœt wait to get home and find you, to take refuge in your arms. His mind was focused solely on you, on the longing to feel close to you, to feel safe.
When Jobe opened the door, there you were, standing in the hallway, waiting for him. He stood on the doormat, his training bag still slung over his left shoulder. The air was filled with the scent of sweat and effort, but his eyes shone with deep emotion. Without a word, he dropped his bag and ran to you.
“Hi, my love!” Jobe exclaimed, his smile tired but radiant as he pulled you into a tight hug, as though he never wanted to let you go.
You barely had time to react before his arms wrapped around you. “Hi, my love,” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion as you hugged him back. “I’ve been waiting all day to have you back here.”
Jobe wasted no time. Without saying another word, he leaned down just enough to kiss you. The kiss was long and deep, pouring all the love and gratitude he felt in that moment. “I need you,” he said, still kissing you between words. “Today was hell.”
You smiled against his lips, lifting a hand to touch his sweaty face. “You’re here now,” you replied, trying to soothe him. “You’re home.”
Jobe rested his chin on your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. “Thank you for waiting for me,” he murmured, his voice full of gratitude and affection.
“It wasn’t hard,” you answered, lifting his face so you could look into his eyes. “You were all I thought about.”
A soft smile spread across Jobe’s face. “You’re my home,” he said before leaning in to kiss you again, this time gently on the lips. “No matter how hard today was, coming back to you makes everything better.”
“I love you, Jobe,” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you kissed him again.
Jobe returned the kiss tenderly, then rested his head on your shoulder, holding you even tighter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, his voice laced with emotion.
“Don’t think about that,” you replied, wrapping your arms even more tightly around him. “You’re here with me, and that’s all that matters.”
Slowly, Jobe lifted his head, taking your hands in his and placing them on his cheeks as he looked at you intensely. “You’re my strength, you know?” he said, his gaze filled with love. “Every time I’m tired, it’s you I think about.”
“And I’ll always be here for you,” you responded, trying to convey all your love with one look. “Today, tomorrow, and always.”
Jobe didn’t respond with words, but with another kiss. A kiss that spoke of hope, of support, of a life shared together. It was as if every kiss was a silent promise of eternal love, an embrace that overcame all exhaustion and difficulty.
“Did you make something special for me?” he asked in a slightly playful tone, trying to distract himself from his fatigue.
You laughed and gently nudged him toward the kitchen. “Of course I did! I made your favorite dish,” you replied, taking his hand in yours as you led him toward the kitchen.
Jobe paused for a moment, turned you toward him, and kissed you again. “You’re too good to me,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “I feel like I don’t deserve all this.”
“You deserve all of this and more, Jobe,” you replied, holding him tightly. “Now come on, let’s eat something and enjoy some peace together.”
That evening, Jobe and you sat on the couch, eating and chatting, as though nothing else in the world mattered. Every hug, every kiss, every sweet word was a refuge from the world, a reminder of your love that made everything more bearable. Jobe knew that no matter how tough the day had been, coming home to you was always the best part of it. And with you by his side, everything felt easier.
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chanelnumbermine · 2 days ago
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2024 f2 boys when someone else compliments you | f2 grid picks x gn!reader
since u liked the previous part so much, i decided to write a little more and added franquito! he has a special place in my heart after this season (mentally i’m still in imola sprint). i’m very open to learn about more drivers and add them to the list! have a nice read!
pairing(s): ollie bearman x gn!reader, kimi antonelli x gn!reader, zane maloney x gn!reader, paul aron x gn!reader, pepe marti x gn!reader, luke browning x gn!reader, franco colapinto x gn!reader;
warning(s): itty bitty possessive behaviour, mostly cuteness!!
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ollie bearman | prema —> haas f1
squeezes your hand and smiled politely
"thank you. they really do light up every room."
he says dryly and tries to shrug off this weird feeling in his chest
becomes a little stiff and after a while he asks
“do random people compliment you like that often?”
you shrug and smirk, seeing he’s a little jealous
“they were right, you look stunning. i should say that more often”
andrea kimi antonelli | prema —> mercedes amg pertronas
he’s already a little flustered because you came over to see his family
you click with them instantly
"uh, thanks mom. i say it every day."
to him you’re the sweetest prettiest person ever and he sometimes forgets that other people can also see that
it’s just hard to remember about the whole world when he’s in your presence
you’re his and he’s fully yours, and he’ll spend the rest of the day clinging to you
he’s nott that good with words, but very good at making you feel loved
paul aron | hitech —> bwt alpine reserve driver
i bet it was one of your friends who complimented you
and paul? tries to outdo the other person with compliments
"you're not just radiant, darling, you look literally ethereal. you know, your eyes ere like the moon. so big and shiny."
thinks he's smooth
he's not
but he's adorable as hell, grinning like and idiot and spewing nonsense just to make you laugh
you'd have to kiss him to shut him up
“i was supposed to make you blush, not the other way around
”
zane maloney | rodin —> formula e
awkward as hell
could be even a little insecure
why would anyone dare compliment you? do they think they have a chance with you?
he tries not to show it, but is not good at it
"aww, are you pouting?" you teased him
he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck nervously
"what, me? you're seeing things"
please reassure him!! he’s the sweetest bunny
pepe marti | campos, red bull academy
"yeah, of course my baby looks beautiful tonight."
goes full on protective mode
could become sarcastic, maybe even passive-aggressive
"i knew this day would come. i have to fend off other admirers."
you laugh and poke his arm
"must be so hard having a beautiful partner, huh?"
huffs playfully and kisses your forehead
luke browning | hitech —> f2
he was joking around with his friends when one of them made an innocent cute comment about your looks
“i know, right? they make me look better just standing next to me”
tries to divert the attention from you
on the outside he seems quite normal, but inside he’s seething with jealousy
like, why would anyone feel the need to point out the obvious???
sneaks his arm around your waist
peppers your face with kisses when you have a little time alone
franco colapinto | mp —> williams racing
whatever the circumstances, he goes into full yapping mode
franco takes seizes every opportunity to brag about who he managed to pull
"right!! you see, mom, they bake the best cookies. one time, when we were in madrid, we ate those cinnamon buns i like so much and..."
he just wants everyone to know you're the best person he's ever had the privilege to meet
he wants to share all the best memories with his family! and has no filter
"no, sis, we weren’t drunk that much
 oh, you’re totally right amor, we were, sorry”
the compliments are flowing from both sides, its very natural and franqui doesn’t get worked up at all
masterlist
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onlyhereforthestories · 2 days ago
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Ours (Alessia Russo x Reader)
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Day 20! My first Russo fic? This was another cheesy one to write, I think this time of the year gets me in my feels. Not long to go!
The glow of the Christmas tree lights filled the living room with a soft, warm ambiance as you placed a tray of paints and brushes onto the coffee table. The soft hum of holiday music played in the background, blending with the occasional crackle from the fireplace. Alessia, who had just returned from the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate, raised an eyebrow when she saw the collection of art supplies you’d gathered.
“What’s all this?” she asked, handing you a mug and taking a seat on the floor beside you.
You grinned, reaching for one of the plain, round ceramic ornaments from the box. “I thought we could make some decorations together. Something special for us to hang on the tree every year.”
Her lips curled into a soft smile, and she took one of the ornaments from the box, examining it thoughtfully as if planning what she could do with it. “You mean, something for us to laugh at in five years when we remember how bad we were at this?”
“Speak for yourself,” you teased, grabbing a brush and dipping it into the paint. “I’ve got big plans for mine.”
Alexia chuckled, leaning closer to inspect your work. “Oh? Big plans like what? Scribbling our initials on it?”
“Very funny,” you shot back, though you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “Watch and learn, Alessia Russo.” You said as you turned your back to her slightly.
You began painting in earnest, starting with a simple heart shape in bright red at the centre of your ornament. Alessia, meanwhile, selected her paints with a surprising level of focus from someone who laughed this idea off a second previously, furrowing her brows as she considered which colours to use.
“What are you going for?” you asked, glancing over at her.
She smirked, tilting the ornament in her hand to show you the start of her design. “A masterpiece, obviously.”
The “masterpiece” in question was a series of uneven lines and smudges of green and gold, but the pride in her expression made you smile.
“You’re so modest,” you quipped, nudging her shoulder playfully.
As the evening went on, the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, dipping brushes into paint and laughing over your attempts to create something meaningful and cute. Alessia’s focus wavered quickly; every time she made a mistake, she would throw her head back and laugh, claiming it added “character.” At one point, she accidentally dipped her sleeve in the paint, leaving a streak of gold across the table.
“Oops,” she said, holding up her arm with a sheepish grin.
You couldn’t help but laugh, grabbing a cloth to wipe up the spill. “At this rate, you’ll have more paint on yourselves than the ornaments you are making.”
She shrugged, grabbing a smaller brush and adding a blob of white to her design. “It’s abstract. I’m an artist. Don’t all artists get covered in their artwork.”
Your evening continued like this for the next 30 minutes, you and Alessia exchanging playful comments or sharing your attempts at art on the decorations you were making. All your ornaments slowly took shape, bright, cheerful designs, one for which featured the date of your first Christmas together and a little snowflake on the back as created by yourself. Alessia, on the other hand, had abandoned any pretence of a cohesive design. Her ornaments had become a chaos of colours and swirls, one was all green with a tiny football painted near the top.
“You’re going to hang that on the tree?” you teased, gesturing to her mess of a creation.
“Of course,” she replied, holding it up proudly. “It’s a reflection of my soul: messy, colourful, and full of love.”
You laughed, reaching over to add a little star to the edge of her ornament. “It’s perfect,” you admitted.
When both of you finished your next ornaments, you set them aside to dry and reached for the next blank ones. Alessia surprised you by grabbing your hand, stopping you mid-motion.
“Wait,” she said softly, her expression suddenly serious.
You raised an eyebrow, wondering what had shifted. “What is it?”
Alessia hesitated for a moment before taking one of the blank ornaments and handing it to you. “Let’s make one together,” she suggested.
“Together?”
“Yeah. Like you know, both of us working on one. Something that’s really ours.”
Your heart warmed at the suggestion, and you nodded, a smile spreading across your face. “I love that idea.”
You scooted closer to her, holding the ornament between you as you decided on the design together. It started with a big, bold heart in the centre, with your initials inside. Around the edges, you added tiny stars while Alessia painted little footballs and a small Christmas tree. Every few minutes, your hands would brush, sending sparks of warmth through you.
At one point, Alessia paused, holding up her brush with a mischievous grin. “Hold still,” she said.
“What? Why?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she swiped a quick streak of red paint across the tip of your nose.
“Alessia!” you exclaimed, laughing as you grabbed a brush of your own.
A quick, playful battle ensued, with streaks of paint finding their way onto your cheeks and Alessia’s chin. By the time you called a truce, both of you were a mess, your faces streaked with colour and your hands covered in smudges. You had placed your shared ornament down on the table before you retaliated so that it wasn’t part of the faux war.
“Okay, okay,” you said, still laughing as you leaned back. “I think the ornament’s supposed to get painted, not us.”
Alessia chuckled, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “It’s a work of art either way.”
When the shared ornament was finally complete, the two of you held it up to admire your handiwork. It wasn’t perfect in its own way, the lines were a little uneven, and the colours had smudged in a few places, but it was undeniably yours.
“I love it,” Alessia said softly, her voice filled with genuine affection.
“Me too,” you agreed, setting it gently on the table to dry.
You spent the rest of the evening cleaning up the mess you’d made, trading kisses and light hearted jokes as you worked. When the ornaments were dry, you carefully hung them on the tree together, stepping back to admire how they looked amidst the twinkling lights.
Alessia slipped her arms around your waist from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. “These are going to be my favourite decorations each year.” she murmured.
You leaned into her, your heart full. “Ours,” you corrected gently.
She smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Ours,” she agreed.
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chosok-amo · 1 day ago
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HEART SPIKES AND HEATENS
(✜) summary. it was supposed to be your date with the boyfriends, but it’s raining and none of you want to spend time being cold and wet. . . so, you three decided to spend the day at the apartment, drawings doodles on sukuna’s tattoos and gojo’s arm, getting all high and stupid.
featuring. gojo satoru, ryomen sukuna (college au)
warning. established relationship, poly! suku-go, fluff, crack, lots and lots of name-calling, petname(s), suggestive words/conversation(s), smoke jƍint(s), high/drunk,
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it’s 3 pm, and the rain hasn’t let up for hours, falling harshly against the windows of the apartment and turning the sky a dull, heavy gray. the soft patter of the downpour fills the living room, mixing with the faint sound of lo-fi music playing through the speakers. the three of you had planned a date today—something special—but the rain decided otherwise. still, none of you seem to mind too much. instead of heading out, you’ve all settled into a quiet, lazy afternoon together.
you’re still dressed in your intended date outfit: a crisp white cropped shirt that hugs your shoulders and arms perfectly, paired with a pleated black pinstripe skirt that sits snugly on your waist. your hair falls naturally, slightly tousled now, framing your face as you lay on your stomach across the soft carpet in the living room. your bare legs stretch out behind you, toes curling occasionally as you focus on your task.
in front of you lies sukuna, sprawled lazily on his back like he owns the place. his dark green oversized jeans hang low on his hips, the fabric bunched at his ankles where his bare feet peek out. he wears a black sleeveless shirt that clings to his toned torso, showing off the intricate black ink of his tattoos that trail up his arm and over his shoulder. one arm rests in front of you, muscles relaxed, his hand stretched open to give you full access to his skin. his other hand, however, holds a joint lazily between two fingers, the faint wisps of smoke curling toward the ceiling. sukuna looks half-lidded, eyes fluttering closed now and then as he exhales with a content sigh, clearly enjoying the stillness of the day.
gojo is lying nearby, parallel to sukuna, with his arms tucked lazily behind his head. he’s dressed comfortably too—black baggy jeans with a loose black t-shirt layered under a dark brown jacket that lay boneless on the floor not far away. the soft fabric is slightly crumpled, evidence that he’s been lounging for a while. gojo’s white hair flops over his forehead, a contrast to the dark palette of his outfit. he’s watching you, an easy grin tugging at his lips every time you focus just a little too hard on coloring sukuna’s tattoos.
“what are you even doing?” gojo finally asks, the teasing lilt in his voice breaking the calm. he cranes his neck up slightly, his bright blue eyes twinkling as they settle on the small pile of colored markers scattered around you.
you don’t look up, chewing on your bottom lip as you carefully drag a bright pink marker across one of the roses etched into sukuna’s forearm. “i’m fixing him.”
sukuna lazily opens one eye, shifting his arm ever-so-slightly to keep his muscles relaxed for you. “fixin’ me, huh?” he repeats, voice low and rough. he takes a deep inhale of the joint, his chest rising and falling with the exhale, before he turns his gaze to gojo.
gojo grins wider in response, clearly amused by your antics. “you don’t think i’m pretty enough already?” sukuna teases, his eyes narrowing mischievously. sukuna watches idly as you continue to add color to his skin, your concentration unwavering. “i thought you loved my ink, doll,” he adds, his expression turning slightly smug. he takes another draw of the joint before holding it out to you lazily.
gojo chuckles at his remark, his gaze flickering between you and sukuna before his eyes are fixed on you, watching every small movement you make in fascination. “you’re both plenty pretty,” you say with a small huff, not looking up from your task. sukuna chuckles, a deep rumble from his chest, while gojo lets out a soft snort of amusement.
you continue coloring, your fingers wrapping around sukuna’s arm to steady it. you can feel his muscles under the skin, tense but at ease, and you take silent pride in the fact that he’s allowing you to do this. sukuna hums low in his throat, the vibrations running through his chest and into your fingertips. “yeah, baby?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of mockery. despite the playful tones, his muscles are relaxed under your hands, allowing you to continue your work without any resistance from him.
gojo, ever observant, watches the small interaction with a hint of an amused smile, his blue eyes tracking the way your fingertips move across sukuna’s skin. he keeps his mouth shut, letting you two have your moment. you pause for just a second, sukuna’s words rolling through the air with that deep, teasing hum of his, and the corners of your lips twitch up. your hand stills, fingertips resting lightly against the inked designs on his forearm. then, without missing a beat, you tilt your head, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes and a perfectly exaggerated mockery of his tone.
“yeah, baby?” you mimic, dragging out the words with as much sarcasm as you can muster, your voice high and mocking as you flutter your lashes dramatically. the look you shoot him is equal parts playful and smug, daring him to say something else.
sukuna’s lip curls into an amused smirk, the vibrations of his chuckle reverberating under your fingertips. “watch it,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite to his words—just that lazy, teasing drawl he always uses when you push back.
without missing a beat, you pull the cap off a bright yellow marker with a quiet pop and switch focus, a devious glint in your eyes. “you know what? you don’t have enough stars.” you lean closer to his arm, the tip of the pen pressing carefully against the space between his intricate tattoos. little bursts of yellow start to appear—stars scattered randomly, as if you’re adding your own personal constellation to his skin.
“seriously?” sukuna mutters, his brow arching as he tilts his head just enough to watch what you’re doing. “this is what we’re doing now?”
“oh, absolutely,” you shoot back, grinning as you carefully dot a smaller star next to a skull. “it’s called enhancing the art, baby. i’m making you look heavenly.”
gojo, who’s been silently watching this exchange like a spectator at a comedy show, finally snorts, the sound breaking through the rain and the low music. “heavenly? yeah, right. sukuna’s more like the villain who got glitter bombed by accident.”
you don’t even pause, your focus still on the yellow stars you’re meticulously adding to sukuna’s tattoos. the marker glides across his skin as you hum softly, a noncommittal sound that borders on mock innocence. without looking up—without even missing a beat—you deliver your response, deadpan and smooth as ever.
“yeah. a hot one.”
sukuna’s smirk widens at your words, his sharp gaze flickering to your face as you remain focused, completely unbothered. there’s a beat of silence, filled only by the steady scratch of the marker and the quiet patter of rain outside. then, without warning, he shifts—just enough to lean closer, his movement lazy and fluid, like a predator that doesn’t need to rush.
before you can react, he presses a kiss against your cheek, the warmth of it brief but deliberate, his lips lingering just long enough to catch you off guard. “cute,” he murmurs, the word low and teasing as it rumbles against your skin. there’s no mockery in his tone now—just something undeniably smug and pleased, as if he’s won a game you didn’t even realize you were playing.
gojo lets out another amused snort from his position nearby, watching the two of you interact. “yeah, cute,” he mutters, his voice filled with an affectionate annoyance that borders on fond. he sits up slightly, leaning back on one elbow as he takes a hit from the joint after he steal from sukuna’s fingers. the smoke curls from his lips as he exhales, his gaze wandering over your form, still laying on the carpet, the colorful markers surrounding you.
you don’t look up, the soft hum escaping your lips acting as both acknowledgment and dismissal—a subtle, wordless response that says you’ve heard them but refuse to give them the satisfaction of a full reaction.
yet despite your calm facade, a small, barely-there smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. it’s the kind of smile that lingers, slow and unintentional, betraying the fact that sukuna’s kiss and gojo’s teasing have amused you more than you’d care to admit.
your focus remains on sukuna’s arm, the yellow stars you’re carefully adding between his tattoos growing brighter under your meticulous work. the soft patter of rain fills the space again, the atmosphere warm and still as if the three of you exist in your own little world.
sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly as he caught the faint curve of your lips forming a small smile. though he didn’t comment, his sharp gaze lingered on you with quiet intensity. beneath your fingers, his muscles remained loose and unbothered, but the subtle shift in his posture betrayed a certain vigilance—as if he was waiting for something unseen.
gojo, on the other hand, let out a low scoff, clearly amused by your expression. his smirk grew as he tilted his head back lazily, taking a slow drag from the joint between his fingers. even as the smoke curled upward, his sharp blue eyes stayed trained on you, brimming with mischief. meanwhile, sukuna’s focus didn’t waver, though his eyelids grew heavier, the warm glow of the room and the haze of the joint casting a languid spell over him. the faintest hint of a grin tugged at his lips, though it was difficult to tell if it was from amusement or pure contentment.
gojo stretched out with an exaggerated groan, sprawling across the carpet floor with his arms spread wide. “mmm,” he sighed, his voice low and drawling as he stared at the ceiling. the soft scratching of the marker against sukuna’s arm was the only sound filling the cozy quiet, accompanied by the rhythmic patter of rain against the windows.
sukuna let you continue your work on his skin, utterly unbothered, while gojo suddenly broke the tranquility. “hey,” he muttered, lets out a soft sigh, his eyes still glued to the ceiling as he mutters in a mock-whine, “can i be next?”
you hum softly, the sound nonchalant yet sweet, as you give a small nod of your head without glancing up from sukuna’s arm. “don’t worry,” you say, your tone light but teasing as your marker continues its gentle path over his skin, adding the finishing touches to another star before changing color for another tattoo. “you’re next.”
an exaggerated grin spreading across gojo’s lips at your words, head tilted towards you. “yeah? what are you thinking for me? something cool, right?” looking up for a second, you meet gojo’s expectant gaze with a deadpan expression that doesn’t match the devious glint in your eyes before drowning in a task in hand. “how about pink hearts?”
sukuna lets out a snort, his arm trembling with suppressed laughter as your words register. his amusement is subtle but unmistakable, his crimson eyes gleaming with unspoken humor. gojo, on the other hand, roll his eyes. “pink hearts?” he echoes, his tone teetering between mock outrage and barely concealed amusement. “you’d decorate me like a damn valentine’s day card?”
your laughter spills out in response, soft and warm, resonating through the cozy atmosphere of the room. your gaze finally lifts to meet gojo’s fully, a playful sparkle dancing in your eyes. “it’s cool,” you quip, dragging the word out with exaggerated teasing as you snap the yellow marker’s cap back into place with a satisfying click. “it’s edgy. you’ll look like everyone’s valentine at the same time.”
gojo props himself up on his elbows, his brows furrowing in mock indignation as he glares between the two of you. “edgy? hearts aren’t edgy—they’re soft and cute. i’m cool and edgy.”
you roll your eyes, grinning as you grab a pink marker and hold it up like a trophy. “oh, don’t worry. i’ll make them edgy. spiky hearts with little sparkles. super intimidating.”
gojo lets out another groan, collapsing back onto the carpet dramatically as he throws one arm over his face. “this is emotional sabotage,” he mutters, though the smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrays him. “i trusted you, and you’re turning me into a walking valentine’s day ad.”
“you’ll love it,” you shoot back, uncapping the pink marker with a flourish and holding it up like it’s some kind of divine weapon. your grin is wicked, your tone dripping with smug confidence as you add, “you always do.”
gojo peeks at you from under his arm, his lips twitching like he’s trying to fight back a smile. “i do not.”
“oh, but you do,” you counter smoothly, already leaning toward him with the marker poised. “you’ll look so cool.” you exaggerate the word, drawing it out as if you’re promising him something legendary. “spiky hearts, sparkles, and a little blue? the edgiest valentine alive.”
sukuna hums low in his throat, clearly enjoying the exchange as his head turns just enough to watch. “gojo, just give up already. she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”
“i do not—” gojo starts to protest, but his words are cut off as you swipe the marker across his arm in one smooth motion, the first spiky heart taking shape before he can move. he stares at it, stunned for half a second, before groaning dramatically. “oh, great. this is how my legacy ends.”
“a masterpiece,” you declare proudly, biting back a laugh as you start to add sparkles around the heart. “you’re welcome, by the way.”
sukuna watches, his expression still lazy and content as he lets out an amused huff. he’s enjoying the spectacle, his eyes flickering between gojo's dramatic reactions and your smug expression.
gojo, meanwhile, continues to lament his apparent downfall. “my reputation,” he moans, dramatically flinging his free arm across his face. “ruined. all because of some pink hearts.” he glances up at you, a mixture of mock irritation and genuine affection in his gaze. “i am not wrapped around your finger,” he protests, his tone still half-hearted as he watches you work.
you chuckle softly, shaking your head as you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to gojo’s arm—right above one of the freshly drawn spiky hearts. “i know,” you murmur, the corners of your lips curling into a warm smile as you meet his gaze. despite the teasing, there’s a flicker of affection in your voice, soft enough to ease his dramatic pout.
gojo blinks at you, stunned for just a beat, before the faintest dusting of pink colors his cheeks. he clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure as he mutters, “well, good. as long as you know.”
without missing a beat, you pick up a blue marker, uncapping it with an exaggerated flourish as you lean back to examine your “canvas.” “come on, stop pouting,” you tease, nudging his side lightly with your elbow. “i used another color too. balance, baby. artistic integrity.”
“artistic integrity, my ass,” he grumbles, though his lips twitch into a grin as he peeks down at his arm, now adorned with spiky pink hearts and tiny blue accents. “you’re lucky i’m this handsome—i can pull anything off.”
from his spot, sukuna snorts, the sound deep and full of amusement. “keep telling yourself that, pretty boy.”
gojo shoots him a glare, half-serious but softened by the lingering pink on his cheeks. you just shake your head, smiling as you add another finishing touch to the design—because if nothing else, you’re thorough with your work.
you frown dramatically, a playful pout forming on your lips as you glance at sukuna. “so rudeee,” you draw out the words, the mock hurt in your tone exaggerated as you giggle. “’m over here, pouring my artistic soul into you two, and this is the thanks i get?”
sukuna chuckles, clearly amused by your exaggerated protest. he tilts his head, the movement lazy and slow, his eyes fixed on yours as he smirks. “my apologies,” he says, the words rumbling deep in his chest. “your sacrifice shall not be forgotten, doll.” gojo rolls his eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches the exchange. he props himself up on one elbow, his gaze flickering between the two of you. “i take it back. your art sucksss.”
you let out a dramatic sigh, exaggerating the weight of it, though you keep working with focus. your playful pout is still in place, but you don’t say anything further. you just continue adding tiny details, not letting their teasing faze you.
the room falls quiet for a moment, but you can feel both of their eyes on you while they busy passing the joint to each other, their gazes softened, watching every movement with something akin to admiration. your hair falls across your face and shoulder, the stray strands brushing against your cheek, and one of the markers put a home in your ear, leaves a faint pink smudge on your ear and cheek, both that you are unaware of. you continue your work with the cap of the marker wedged between your teeth, your focus purely on the task at hand.
sukuna watches silently, his eyes tracking every move you make, his expression softer than before. from his angle, he can see every detail—the way your hair falls across your face, the smudged marker on your cheek, the concentrated expression on your face as you work. his muscles are relaxed, but there’s a hint of tension there too, as if he’s holding back from reaching out.
gojo, meanwhile, just grins, his eyes flickering between your face and the masterpiece taking shape on his arm. “cute,” he murmurs, the word more affectionate than mocking.
sukuna’s eye flick to gojo for a moment, silently watching the affectionate look on his face, before looking back at you. there’s another moment of quiet, the only sound being your steady breathing and the soft sound of the marker on skin. gojo, apparently feeling sukuna’s gaze, turns his head, their eyes meeting for a moment. there’s a brief, unspoken exchange there, a silent understanding.
sukuna’s lips curl into a small smirk, his eyes flickering back to you, his expression still oddly soft. the pink-haired man tears a scoff, rolling his eyes away from you and a halo of smoke swirls out of his lips, “brat,” a mutter could be heard for you.
your eyes flicker briefly to him at the sound of his mutter, your concentration breaking for a moment. “i heard that,” you say, the corner of your lips curling up in a slight smile.
gojo, meanwhile, chuckles softly at the exchange, clearly enjoying the banter. he raises his arm, examining the now complete design you had worked on, his gaze flickering back to you. “i gotta hand it to you, doll—spiky hearts look even better than i imagined.”
you don’t even look up, still absorbed in your task, your hand moving with precision as you add a few final touches. the pink marker glides smoothly over the skin, and you carefully add a few little blue stars, scattering them around the design like tiny accents.
“i know you’ll appreciate it eventually,” you say nonchalantly, the teasing tone in your voice clear, though you don't let your focus waver for a second. with the last stroke of your marker, you pull his arm away, leaning back slightly to examine your work. you give a small nod to yourself, satisfied. “done,” you say, your smile a mixture of smugness and quiet pride.
you glance up at gojo then, finally meeting his gaze. “not bad, right baby? spiky hearts and all.”
gojo grins as he looks down at his arm, admiring the final results. “not bad? doll, these are art masterpieces. i feel like i should frame my arm and put it in a damn museum or something.” he raises his arm, letting out a dramatic gasp, “oh, the sacrifices i make for beauty. i bet even paris of troy would shed a tear at this sight.”
sukuna, despite his lazy exterior, actually lets out a low chuckle at gojo’s exaggerated reaction, his lip curling up in a sly smirk. you let out a squeal of excitement, your voice high-pitched and bubbly as you mirror gojo’s over-the-top enthusiasm. “i know, right?!” your excitement is contagious, practically bouncing with energy as you grab sukuna’s arm and drape it over gojo’s, positioning them side by side like they’re two precious pieces of art.
sitting on your legs, with your calves resting comfortably on the back of your thighs, you expertly slide your hand into gojo’s pocket, pulling out his phone with practiced ease. the mischievous glint in your eyes intensifies as you quickly open the camera app, positioning the two arms just right to capture the perfect shot.
“this is going to be legendary,” you announce, snapping the picture with dramatic flair. you pause for a moment, inspecting the shot with a critical eye, before giving a nod of approval. “yup, this is museum-quality stuff right here.”
you can feel their eyes on you as you settle between them, your body nestled between sukuna and gojo on the carpet. with the phone in hand, you zoom in on the picture, your focus drawn to the vibrant pink hearts and tiny blue stars scattered across their arms. you can’t help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all.
“you two look so silly,” you comment, your playful grin widening as you swipe through the photo to get a better view. “seriously, this is peak art... but also kind of ridiculous.”
gojo, ever the charismatic showman, shoots you an exaggerated pout, his tone dripping with mock betrayal. “silly? ridiculous? you wound me, doll. we look badass!” sukuna’s quiet chuckle rumbles in response to gojo’s theatrics, the corner of his mouth twitching with faint amusement. yet, beneath his sharp smirk lies a flicker of something softer, almost imperceptible—a rare glimpse of tenderness he doesn’t often show.
you, however, are entirely engrossed in the photo, oblivious to the dynamic between the two men. your fingers pinch and spread the screen, zooming in on the pink hearts and smudges adorning their arms. gojo takes the opportunity to lean in, his chin resting on your shoulder as his eyes follow your movements, a sly smirk playing on his lips.
humming softly, you finally lower the phone, a playful grin spreading across your face as you lift your hands to inspect them in the air. your skin is streaked with colorful smudges—bright pink, soft blue, and a few haphazard lines of purple—and the sight makes you smile. “looks like i got in on the action too,” you muse, your voice light with amusement.
your small chuckle fills the room as you continue to admire your handiwork, completely unaware of the way gojo’s gaze softens as he watches you. his eyes follow the movements of your hands, his smile widening at the colorful chaos you’ve created. even sukuna, in his understated way, glances at you with a rare sense of contentment.
gojo’s eyes slide from the photo to your hands, zeroing in on the rainbow of smudges decorating your skin like some kind of art experiment gone wrong. his lips twitch upward into a mischievous grin as he chuckles. “look at you, doll,” he starts, his tone laced with teasing affection. “you look like you’re about to host a daycare finger-painting for toddlers 101.”
sukuna, lounging nearby, rolls his eyes and lets out a derisive scoff. “daycare?” he mutters, his voice dry and just loud enough for you to hear. “more like an after-school program for disasters.”
your gaze shifts from your mess-covered hands to sukuna’s long, relaxed fingers, honing in on the joint he’s casually holding like it’s calling your name. without even a hint of warning, you dart forward like a caffeine-fueled gremlin, snatching it straight from his grasp with a swipe so quick it could’ve been a magic trick.
sukuna’s brows shoot up in surprise before settling into an amused arch, his lips curving into the faintest smirk. “bold move,” he remarks, clearly entertained by your antics.
ignoring him entirely, you bring the joint to your lips, taking the slowest, most dramatic drag in the history of bad decisions. exhaling a plume of smoke like you’re starring in a rebellious indie film, you lean back with a smug grin. “i’mma good teacher, y’know,” you declare, your voice tinged with mock self-importance.
gojo, who’s been silently observing this entire circus, finally loses it. he bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach as he leans back. “oh, yeah, top-tier educator right here!” he chokes out between wheezes. “if the subject is how to steal people’s vices and look ridiculously proud of it, you’re a genius!”
sukuna’s lips curl into a crooked smirk, his sharp eyes fixed on you with a mix of intrigue and bemusement. he lets out a low, gravelly chuckle, the sound rich with amusement. “oh yeah?” he drawls, his voice dripping with lazy confidence. “think you’ve got what it takes to teach me something?”
gojo, on the other hand, is already grinning like a kid watching chaos unfold. his gaze flickers between you and sukuna, fully aware of the game you’re playing and absolutely loving every moment of it. leaning back with a casual air, he watches you take another slow drag, the smoke curling lazily in the air as a mischievous smirk spreads across your lips. the sheer audacity of the scene only fuels his entertainment, his eyes twinkling with delight.
you exhale the smoke with a slow, deliberate grin, your gaze locking on sukuna as you tilt your head, feigning innocence. “well, for starters,” you say smoothly, “you can stop being such a greedy ass and learn to share the good stuff with your partners.”
sukuna’s smirk widens, his sharp gaze narrowing in mock offense as he tilts his head, clearly unbothered. “greedy? me? nah, doll,” he drawls, voice dripping with sarcastic charm. “i’m just a connoisseur of life’s finer pleasures. no crime in appreciating quality.”
gojo snorts so hard he nearly chokes, his laughter spilling out like he’s just heard the joke of the century. “finer pleasures? you mean hogging everything good like a dragon on a pile of gold?” he quips, his grin so wide it looks borderline painful.
sukuna rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of his head. he is glaring at gojo with an expression that screams try me, clown. “oh, shut up,” he fires back, feigning annoyance as he snatches the joint from you, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays his amusement. “i’ll share when i feel like it—maybe.”
gojo leans back, sprawling like he owns the entire room, his smirk practically radiating smugness. “sure, sukuna. we all know your idea of sharing is letting us watch you enjoy it. greedy bastard.”
you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous exchange, shaking your head as you hand the joint back to sukuna. “seriously, you’re both like kids fighting over the last slice of pizza,” you deadpan, a grin tugging at your lips. “greedy asses, the both of you.”
sukuna snatches the joint back with that signature smirk, his tone dripping with fake irritation. “hey, don’t lump me in with him,” he grumbles, flicking his wrist toward gojo like he’s flicking off a fly. gojo’s jaw drops, and he presses a hand to his chest as though sukuna just insulted his entire bloodline. “hey, what’s that supposed to mean? i’m a saint compared to you, jackass.”
sukuna rolls his eyes so hard they might fall out of his head, his voice dry as sandpaper. “yeah, sure, you’re a saint. and i’m mother theresa, motherfucker.”
gojo practically cackles, leaning back like he’s heard the greatest joke of the century. “oh, please. i have far more angelic behavior than you do. i’m practically a saint compared to mr. grouchy over here.”
you glance between the two of them, raising an eyebrow as you hold back a snicker. “wow,” you interject, voice dripping with sarcasm. “what a holy duo we’ve got here. should i start calling you ‘saint gojo’ and ‘pope sukuna’ or just skip straight to planning your canonization?”
gojo lights up like it’s christmas morning. “saint gojo does have a nice ring to it!” sukuna groans, dragging a hand down his face. “great. now he’s never gonna shut up about it.” you roll your eyes at their bickering, a playful sigh escaping your lips. “idiot,” you mutter, shifting your position with ease. you rest your head on sukuna’s stomach, your hair spilling over him, while your legs casually drape over gojo’s waist, trapping him in place.
“comfy?” sukuna drawls, his smirk lingering as he glances down at you, though he makes no move to push you off. he passes the joint to gojo with an almost lazy flick of his fingers.
gojo takes it with a dramatic flourish, holding it like it’s a prized treasure. “oh, look at that,” he says, his voice dripping with mock reverence. “sukuna finally shares. truly a miracle for the ages.” you chuckle softly, a little smirk makes its way to your lips, tugging the edge softly. “don’t let it get to your head, baby. one good deed doesn’t make him a saint.”
sukuna lets out a low scoff, his expression feigning offense. “oh, please,” he says, “i’m plenty saintly, doll,” he replies, his tone filled with mock irritation. “and i don’t need a single good deed to prove my sainthood. you’re both just jealous of my undeniable benevolence.”
gojo takes a slow drag, his eyes flickering down to you sprawled across his lap. a smirk dances on his lips as he watches you get comfortable. “oh, please,” he quips, ’you’re the least saintly person i know. you’re the devil incarnate, you know that?”
you roll your eyes, the sarcasm practically dripping from your voice as you retort, “oh, absolutely. sukuna’s a shining beacon of morality and grace. i mean, saints everywhere must be quaking in their halos knowing he’s out here setting the standard.”
sukuna snorts, his lips twitching into a smirk as he lazily tilts his head to look at you. “glad you finally see the truth, doll.” without missing a beat, you glance at gojo, pointing a finger at him as you continue, “and you’re no better, satoru. calling someone the devil while sitting there with that smug, ‘holier-than-thou’ face? talk about irony.”
sukuna let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by your banter. “yeah, doll, glad you finally get it.”
gojo, meanwhile, feigns a look of mock offense, his hand moving in the air in dramatic fashion. “me, smug? holier-than-thou? i’m just stating facts, doll. it’s not my fault that i’m so damn perfect. and clearly, it’s not my fault you’re both a pair of heathens.” he takes a slow drag of the joint, his eyes trained on you as he blows out a stream of smoke. “and you’re one to talk, doll. you’re no saint yourself.”
you scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically as you look at gojo, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “what the fuck do you mean, ‘i’m no saint’?” you throw your hands up in mock frustration. “i’m a perfect picture of a saint compared to you two. i’m sure as hell a better person than the two of you combined.”
you reach for the joint in gojo’s hand, taking a slow drag before blowing the smoke out with a satisfied grin. “the only bad thing about me,” you add, the words laced with playful mockery, “is because of you two bad influence. so, really, you should be thanking me for not being worse.” your fingers that holding the joint swing around as you pointing at your two boyfriends.
sukuna and gojo’s reactions to your sarcastic outburst were priceless. their faces twisted in mock outrage, and it was clear they were both enjoying the show. sukuna’s lip curled into a sly, almost mischievous grin as he chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, doll, you’re a saint alright. a saintly brat.”
meanwhile, gojo put on his best dramatic scoff like he’d just been hit with the most devastating betrayal. “thank you? thank you?! as if you’re not just as bad as us. in fact, you’re damn worse than us.”
before you could even react, gojo snatched the joint back from your hand with a smug smirk. his eyes locked onto yours with that signature playful intensity, narrowing in that way that always made you feel like he was about to pull some ridiculous stunt. “we influence you? yeah, right. you’re just as bad, if not worse. you don’t need our influence to be a little hellion. you’re naturally devilish, doll.” his voice oozed with mock teasing, every word dripping with exaggerated amusement.
you can’t help but roll your eyes at their simultaneous reactions. gojo, with his exaggerated expressions, and sukuna, with his sly grin. it’s almost comical how they both manage to be so different, yet so irritating at the same time.
“please,” you scoff, a hint of challenge in your eyes as you respond. “i’m only this bad because of you two. i mean, look at yourselves. you’re not exactly paradigms of virtue."
gojo’s eyes widened in mock horror, his posture exaggerated as if you had just delivered the ultimate, unbelievable audacity. “oh, doll, you wound me!” he exclaimed dramatically, his voice rising with faux indignation. “are you saying we’re not the picture of innocence? how could you?” his expression was a mix of feigned hurt and playful sarcasm, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
sukuna, however, didn’t even bother with such theatrics. he just let out a low, amused snort, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. “yeah, we’re practically angels compared to you.” his tone was effortless, as though he were used to this kind of banter by now, and nothing could rattle him.
with a languid stretch of his arm, sukuna reached over, his fingers brushing lightly against gojo’s as he nonchalantly snatched the joint from his hand, not even sparing a glance at him. he brought it to his lips with an almost bored expression, taking a long, lazy drag as though the whole situation was beneath him. after a moment, he exhaled the smoke slowly, his eyes gleaming with that characteristic wickedness. “but you’re right. we’re far from virtuous. guess you’re just stuck with a pair of heathens for boyfriends, huh?” he said with a raised brow, his voice dripping with amusement.
you hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider his words with exaggerated seriousness. then, with a sly grin curling at the edges of your lips, you reached out, your fingers grazing sukuna’s wrist with purpose. you gently guided his hand, bringing the joint to your lips with a delicate movement, taking a slow, deliberate drag. you let the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling it lazily, watching the tendrils of smoke swirl in the air like a fleeting, ephemeral thing.
“sadly.” you let the word hang in the air, your voice soft but tinged with mock sorrow. with a playful tilt of your head, you added, “nobody wants you two heathens... so i guess i had to pick you up, huh?” your tone was laced with teasing, and you gave them both a look that was part challenge, part amusement, knowing full well how much you enjoyed throwing their own words back at them.
gojo’s handsome face contorting with mock devastation, as if your words had pierced him to the core. his fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his semi-wrinkled shirt, pulling it as though he were trying to keep his very soul from escaping. “oh, the pain! the absolute betrayal!” he gasped, his voice carrying a note of exaggerated agony, the air around him charged with over-the-top theatrics.
sukuna, however, simply chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a smug smile that only heightened his arrogance. “oh yeah, doll? you had to pick us up? you think you did us a favor? we’re the best damn thing that’s happened to you.” his voice was rich with self-assurance, the words dripping with his usual brand of ruthless confidence, as though he were the undeniable prize in this game.
you couldn’t help it—your snort of laughter slipped out before you could even contain it. it was a sound that surprised you, but you quickly smothered it with an amused glance at sukuna, your gaze lingering just long enough to catch the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. then, you shifted your attention to gojo, your toes lightly grazing over his stomach, tracing the fabric of his shirt in a soft, teasing motion as you allowed a chuckle to escape your lips. “glad to know delusion is free, huh?”
you leaned back slightly, lifting your leg with deliberate care, letting your smirk speak volumes. “but hey, keep thinking you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. you’re both good for entertainment, at least.” your voice had the right amount of mock affection, as though you were toying with them, enjoying the very idea of their inflated egos.
gojo raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk that matched the mischief in his eyes. “delusion is free?” he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery, his expression a mixture of challenge and amusement. “please, doll, don’t be so quick to dismiss our greatness.”
sukuna scoffed lowly, the sound rich with feigned irritation. his expression flickered for a moment with mock annoyance, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on a sharper edge. “entertainment, huh? is that all we are to you? just a couple of jesters here to amuse your highness?” the words were laced with sarcasm, a subtle challenge hanging in the air as he regarded you with an air of exaggerated exasperation.
you can’t help but smile at their reactions, clearly enjoying the banter. “oh, don’t be so dramatic,” you say with a feigned innocence. “you’re not just jesters. you’re my favorite jesters.”
you take another pull on the joint, your gaze flickering between your two boyfriends as you blow out a stream of smoke. “and i appreciate the entertainment, don’t get me wrong, but really, you’re lucky i’ve decided to put up with your obnoxiousness.” you look down to gojo, poking his side with your toes before added, “especially you.”
gojo’s breath hitched in a dramatized gasp, his hand flying to clutch his chest with such intensity that it seemed as if he had just been struck by an invisible arrow— apparently, that’s his go-to expression, dramatic ass. “lucky? lucky that you’ve decided to put up with us? please, doll, we’re the ones who should be thanking our lucky stars that we found you,” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with exaggerated reverence, as though your very presence was some rare gift bestowed upon them.
sukuna, on the other hand, barely spared him a glance. his eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and mild annoyance as he rolled them at gojo’s theatrics. “oh, calm down, dumbass,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp, laced with a touch of irritation. “you’re giving me a headache with all that whining.”
gojo, not one to back down easily, pouted dramatically, his lower lip jutted out in a perfect display of mock hurt. “i’m not whining. i’m just expressing how lucky we are to have the privilege of your presence.” his tone dripped with sarcasm, and his eyes flickered back to you, his smirk playing at the edges of his lips, daring you to challenge him.
sukuna scoffed once more, his expression now tinged with a faint but unmistakable irritation. “you’re lucky you’re cute, satoru, or else i’d be tempted to smack that look off your face. you’re insufferable.” the words were delivered with an edge of genuine annoyance, though his eyes softened slightly at the sight of gojo’s pout.
you snort, unable to hold back your amusement as you watch the back-and-forth between the two. you take another slow drag from the joint before casually passing it back to sukuna, your eyes never leaving gojo’s exaggerated pout.
“lucky you’re cute, huh?” you repeat with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at gojo’s dramatic expression. “that’s the only thing saving you right now, huh? pretty boy gets away with everything.” you roll your eyes but can’t help the playful grin spreading across your face as you lean back, resting your head against sukuna’s side.
the hours slip by as the three of you remain sprawled out on the floor, the conversation flowing between playful teasing and lazy banter. the sky outside slowly deepens into twilight, casting the room in soft shadows. the air grows thicker with the lingering scent of weed, the haze hanging in the air as sukuna’s joints grow fewer and fewer.
you lay between gojo and sukuna, your head still resting against sukuna’s chest while you lazily pass the joint between the three of you before sukuna take the last hit without either you nor gojo realized. the warmth of the room and the heavy, calming buzz settle over you, your body relaxed and content despite the chaos of the banter. every so often, gojo lets out a loud, exaggerated laugh, while sukuna just shakes his head, taking another drag as he passes the joint back to you.
the room is quiet for a moment, save for the sound of slow exhalations and the occasional chuckle. you lean your head back to look at the two of them, eyes half-lidded, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “y’know,” you say lazily, “this isn’t so bad. could get used to it.”
gojo, sprawled out lazily on the other side of you, lets out a soft, knowing chuckle, his eyes locking with yours in a way that sends a little thrill through the air. “oh, getting used to it, are we? finally admitting that we’re not so bad?” he teased, his voice dripping with a sense of mock triumph, as if he’d just scored a small but satisfying victory over you.
sukuna, on the other hand, let out a slow, almost theatrical sigh, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. his fingers, restless, began to stroke your hair in a tender motion, the simple gesture feeling strangely intimate amidst the teasing. “careful now, doll,” he warned, his tone rich with a playful edge. “too much time with us and you might start liking us a little too much.” his words were a mixture of amusement and dark amusement, as though he were both cautioning and daring you to embrace whatever was growing between the three of you.
you let out a lazy, indifferent “meh” sound, rolling your eyes playfully as you surveyed the two of them, caught in their ridiculous back-and-forth. glancing between them, you couldn’t help but tease, your grin wide and full of mischief. “eh, not really my type,” you muttered, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm, clearly enjoying the banter as it unfolded before you.
gojo lets out an exaggerated gasp, his hand flying to his chest in mock disbelief. “not your type? how dare you?” he exclaims with a blend of feigned hurt and over-the-top offense, his voice rising dramatically, as though your words were an unforgivable insult.
sukuna rolls his eyes at gojo’s antics, a trace of amusement flickering in his gaze. “oh, please, satoru,” he drawls, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a sly grin. “don’t take it too personally. she clearly has no taste.” his voice is laced with mockery, every word dripping with playful derision. you smirk, the tip of your finger tracing slow, deliberate patterns across sukuna’s thigh, the action sending a subtle jolt of electricity through the air. “not my fault if your overinflated egos can’t handle the truth,” you reply, your tone dripping with sass and amusement.
gojo pouts dramatically at your response, his lower lip thrusting out in exaggerated mock hurt. “overinflated egos, she says. please, doll, we have every right to be confident. we’re the best damn thing that's happened to you.” his eyes narrow, daring you to challenge him, the playful arrogance hanging in the air between you like an unspoken dare.
sukuna snorts in response, his expression turning even more smug as a sly smile curls onto his lips. “yeah, doll. and you’re just proving our point. you’ve got a thing for cocky, arrogant jerks like us.” his voice carries an edge of amusement, as though he’s reveling in the truth of the statement, not the least bit bothered by the accusation.
you roll your eyes, the movement exaggerated as you continue to trace circles on sukuna’s thigh with a casual, almost bored air. “please,” you scoff, the sarcasm in your voice unmistakable. “i’ve got standards, you know.” you raise an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth, but unwilling to give either of them the satisfaction of admitting their point.
gojo scoffs, his eyes narrowing with playful challenge as he leans in slightly, his voice laced with teasing mockery. “oh yeah? standards, huh? and what are those, exactly?” the words are edged with curiosity, like he’s dying to know what could possibly be your “type.”
you grin, the smirk on your face widening as you continue your lazy assault on sukuna’s thigh, your toes nudging at gojo’s side with a teasing prod. “definitely not whitehead and bitch face,” you retort smoothly, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you jab your toes into gojo’s ribs for emphasis, then poke sukuna’s side with a playful flick of your finger. the taunting gesture is accompanied by a light laugh, daring them both to rise to the challenge.
gojo feigns a dramatic gasp, his hand clutching his side as if mortally wounded. “whitehead and bitch face?” he echoes, his voice dripping with exaggerated hurt. “please, doll, you wound me. and here i thought we were friends.” his expression shifts between mock betrayal and playful amusement, eyes wide as if you had committed the gravest of sins.
sukuna, on the other hand, lets out a low, throaty chuckle, the sound rich with amusement as he watches your mock irritation. your finger’s lazy tracing on his thigh seems to soothe him, even as his smug smile never falters. “yeah, doll,” he drawls, his voice laced with a playful challenge. “friends, huh? that’s one way to put it,” he muses, his eyes locked on your hand as it continues its delicate dance across his skin.
you gasp theatrically, your eyes widening in mock horror as if gojo’s words had struck at the very core of your being. “friends? friends?” you echo back, your tone dripping with exaggerated disbelief and mock outrage. “oh, fuck off, you prick,” you snap playfully, your feet pressing against his side with a soft shove, your lips curling into a sly grin.
gojo stumbles back in exaggerated fashion, clutching his side with a mock wince as though your light shove had caused him untold pain. “ouch, doll, that hurt,” he laments dramatically, his face contorted in mock agony, his tone dripping with faux sorrow.
sukuna, clearly entertained by the spectacle, lets out a quiet chuckle, his hand lazily stroking your hair as he watches you both. “oh, woe is you, satoru,” he drawls, his voice rich with sarcasm. “how will you ever recover from that devastating blow?” his lips quirk into a smirk, clearly amused by the banter.
you sit up, pushing gojo away with your feet, and your eyes narrow, suddenly fixating on sukuna’s hands. you tilt your head in mock accusation, raising an eyebrow as you study him intently. “did you finish it?” you ask, your voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
sukuna grins unapologetically, a lazy, unbothered look in his eyes as he holds up the now-empty joint between his fingers. “caught red-handed,” he admits with a cocky tilt of his head, clearly unfazed by your gaze.
gojo’s pout deepens as he eyes the empty joint in sukuna’s hand with feigned disappointment. “ugh, really, man? you couldn’t save some for the rest of us?” he grumbles, his expression thoroughly put out as if this betrayal is a grave offense.
you hum indifferently, your gaze flicking between the two of them as if you couldn’t care less about sukuna’s confession. but your eyes tell a different story; they dart around the room, scanning every corner with sharp suspicion. first the table, then the couch cushions, and finally, a brief glance down to sukuna’s lap, where you eye him intently, your features betraying no sign of the suspicion swirling within.
sukuna, noticing your subtle movements, raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your obvious search. “looking for something, doll?” he asks, his smirk deepening, his voice laced with a teasing challenge.
gojo, blissfully unaware of your internal investigation, tilts his head in mock confusion. “yeah, doll,” he adds with a chuckle. “what’s with the scavenger hunt? lost something?”
you ignore their teasing entirely, focusing instead on sukuna, your eyes narrowing with increasing suspicion. without a word, you slide your hand under him, your fingers brushing against the back pocket of his pants. sukuna stiffens slightly, his smirk faltering just enough to reveal his surprise.
“what are you—” he starts, but you cut him off, your hand triumphantly retrieving his cigarette case. you pop it open with a snap, your eyes lighting up as you spot two perfectly rolled joints nestled inside.
“ahah!” you exclaim with a victorious snort, lifting the case high as if you’ve just uncovered a long-lost treasure. “thought you could hide these from me? think again, prick.”
sukuna groans, an exaggerated sigh escaping his lips as he leans back into the couch, the picture of reluctant surrender. “you’re like a damn bloodhound, doll,” he mutters, though the amusement in his eyes betrays any trace of annoyance. “can’t hide anything from you, can i?”
gojo, on the other hand, bursts into laughter, pointing at you with glee as if you’ve just pulled off some mischievous heist. “look at you,” he laughs, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “beaming like a kid who just found the candy stash!” he shakes his head with a grin that could rival the most devious of smirks. “you’re such an addict, doll. next thing we know, you’ll be rolling your own joints like some wannabe stoner.” his teasing tone fills the room, the light-hearted mockery echoing as the playful banter continues to dance between the three of you.
you shoot gojo a glare, flipping him off without missing a beat. “shut up, satoru. at least i’m not whining over someone else finishing the stash like a little bitch.”
without giving gojo a chance to respond, you shift your attention to sukuna, moving to straddle his waist. he groans in protest, clearly more annoyed by your audacity than your weight, but he doesn’t push you off. instead, he sighs dramatically, his expression a mix of exasperation and reluctant compliance.
“you’re such a pain in the ass, doll,” he mutters under his breath, though his actions betray his words as he lazily flicks the lighter to life for you. the warm glow of the flame reflects in his crimson eyes, and despite his grumbling, there’s a faint trace of amusement lingering in his smirk as he holds it steady for you before you lean forward and a little halo of smoke sneak past your lips.
gojo leans back, a mock expression of offense painted on his features. gojo’s jaw drops, his hand dramatically flying to his chest. “me? whining? i don’t whine, doll. i express valid concerns like the mature adult i am,” he retorts, though his pout says otherwise.
sukuna, meanwhile, lets out a sigh as you settle yourself in his lap, his hands instinctively moving to rest on your waist. he keeps up his feigned annoyance, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the sliver of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. as you lean forward and take the first pull, he watches you the smoke filling your lungs as you exhale slowly, the tension easing from your body, his gaze lingering on your lips, watching the tendrils of smoke curl away.
sukuna watches you from his position, his fingers still tracing light patterns on your waist, but his focus seems to shift to the way you handle the joint. his gaze lingers on your lips as you take the drag, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. as you inhale the smoke, he lets out a low hum.
rolling your eyes at gojo’s dramatics, you stretch your arm out, holding the joint toward him with a smirk. “here, take it and stop whining, satoru,” you say, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. “maybe a little smoke will help you with all that ‘mature adult’ energy you’re putting out.”
gojo, still pouting, takes the joint from your hand, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he brings it to his lips. “oh, ha ha, very funny, doll. just you wait, i’ll show you who’s the mature adult around here,” he mutters, taking a deep drag. he holds the smoke in for a moment before exhaling it in a slow, steady stream.
you mutter under your breath, just loud enough for gojo to hear, “what an idiot,” your tone dripping with sarcasm. gojo lets out a scoff at your muttered comment, his eyes narrowing playfully. “oh, you’re one to talk, doll. calling me an idiot when you’re the one straddling sukuna’s lap like a desperate teenager,” he teases, a smirk playing on his features.
sukuna, meanwhile, remains silent for a moment, his gaze still fixated on you. the intensity of his stare makes you smirk, your fingers running lightly over his chest, teasing the fabric of his shirt. his expression remains neutral, but a flash of desire flickers in his eyes as he feels your fingers trailing across his chest.
rolling your eyes, you glance down, only to find sukuna’s gaze still fixed on you. you tilt your head slightly, raising an eyebrow as you ask with a smirk, “what?” he raises an eyebrow at your question, his voice low and mocking as he responds. with an indifferent shrug, his eyes not leaving yours as he replies, “just admiring the view, that’s all.”
you hum softly, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you glance at gojo for a moment, amusement dancing in your eyes. you then turn your attention back to sukuna, the teasing tone in your voice unmistakable. “i’m no teenager, but i’ll admit... i am desperate,” you say, your voice low and playful.
without giving sukuna a chance to respond, you lean down slightly, your already short skirt riding up further as you move closer to him. you let the space between you both shrink, your lips capturing his in a kiss, slow and deliberate, as if to emphasize your words.
when your lips meet his, sukuna lets out a low sound, his fingers gripping your hips a little tighter as he leans into the kiss. he responds with a quiet hunger, his tongue flickering over your bottom lip as he deepens the kiss. gojo, meanwhile, still leaning back on the floor beside, watches the scene unfolding before him. his eyes flicker between you and sukuna, his own smirk widening as he takes another drag from the joint.
you hum softly against sukuna's lips, the sound reverberates between you two, the tension building. you pull back just enough to bite his lower lip gently, tugging it between your teeth before leaning back in, kissing him again with more intensity. the kiss deepens, each movement a reflection of the growing desire between you both, while gojo watches, amused but clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him.
sukuna reacts to the sharp bite with a low, rumbling growl, his fingers slipping beneath the loose fabric of your shirt as if claiming you. his touch is deliberate, tracing the soft, exposed skin beneath, sending an electrifying shiver down your spine. he presses you even closer, his body a solid heat against yours, as his tongue dances into your mouth, exploring with teasing precision, tasting every inch of you.
meanwhile, gojo remains sprawled on the floor, his eyes dark and hungry, flicking over every curve of your body. he watches sukuna’s hands move beneath your shirt with a slow, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. the joint in his fingers burns slowly, forgotten for the moment as he becomes absorbed in the raw intensity of the scene playing out before him.
sukuna’s hands continue their exploration with an almost possessive hunger, each stroke sending waves of pleasure and heat spiraling through you, leaving you breathless and acutely aware of his overwhelming desire for you. his lips abandon your mouth, trailing down the line of your jaw and moving lower, planting soft, heated kisses along your neck that send a thrill of anticipation rushing through you.
gojo watches this silent, unspoken dance unfold with a predatory gleam in his eyes. the joint, once a small comfort in his hand, is forgotten, dropped to the side as he becomes completely enraptured by the sight of you and sukuna. a low hum escapes him, his voice thick with both intrigue and unrestrained desire. “god, you two are something else,” he murmurs, his words laced with a dark satisfaction.
you pull away from sukuna, your breath shallow and quick, trying to regain some sense of control. your cheeks are flushed a deep red, whether from the kiss, the lack of oxygen, or the effects of the weed, it's hard to tell. you let out a heavy sigh, your eyes half-lidded as you glance between sukuna and gojo, your voice soft and slightly breathless.
“i think i’m high,” you murmur, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. the effects of the weed mix with the lingering tension in the air, and you feel a little light-headed, but there's no denying the buzz.
sukuna chuckles at your declaration, his thumb brushing against your flushed cheek as he grins, amused by your hazy expression. “you think?” he muses, his voice gruff. “more like you’re gone, doll. you’re practically floating right now. and here i thought you had a higher tolerance than that.”
gojo, meanwhile, lets out a loud bark of laughter, his own eyes fluttering slightly to keep you in focus. “she’s blitzed,” he teases, his lips curling into a smirk.
you roll your eyes at their teasing, your tone sharp yet playful. “shut up, both of you,” you mutter, reaching for the joint in gojo's hand with a quick, determined movement. you take another drag, inhaling deeply, your eyes briefly closing as the smoke fills your lungs. as you exhale slowly, you pass the joint to sukuna, your gaze lingering on him for a moment.
“your turn, asshole,” you say with a smirk, leaning back slightly as you let the haze settle around you.
sukuna takes the joint from your hand with a slow, deliberate motion, his thumb grazing against your fingers as his eyes lock onto yours. a smirk curls at the corner of his lips, his gaze never leaving you as he brings the joint to his mouth. he inhales deeply, savoring the smoke, holding it in for a moment as the weight of the moment stretches between you. then, with a controlled exhale, the smoke billows from his mouth in a steady, thick stream, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
gojo, still chuckling at your earlier comment, watches the exchange between you and sukuna with a sharp, calculating interest. his eyes flick between the two of you, a playful spark igniting behind them, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.
“damn, y/n,” he teases, his voice light but carrying an edge of amusement. “you really can’t hold your weed, can you?” he chuckles, leaning back as his gaze flickers with further delight at your reaction.
you shift on sukuna’s lap, leaning back just enough to let the weight of the moment settle in, your head tilting upwards to the ceiling as the haze of the weed wraps around you. a deep, contented sigh slips from your lips, the foggy warmth in your chest making everything feel just right. slowly, you let out a soft laugh, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. “this is better than going out for a date,” you murmur, a lazy grin spreading across your face.
your mind, cloudy and buzzing, wanders back to the date the three of you had planned earlier, the thought floating through your haze. gojo lets out a laugh, eyes flicking between you and sukuna, his amusement glinting brighter. “damn, doll, you’d rather get high than go on a date with us? who are we, chopped liver?” his voice is thick with mock offense, but the mischief dancing in his eyes is impossible to miss.
sukuna, never one to let a moment of teasing slip away, chuckles darkly, his hands drifting lazily over your thighs, tracing invisible patterns. “nah,” he drawls with a smirk, “she’s just too stoned to appreciate anything else right now.” his grin widens, clearly enjoying every bit of your sluggish reaction.
you let out a low, breathy chuckle, your head swaying slightly as the world around you blurs and ripples like a mirage. the ceiling above seems to stretch and shift, and you blink slowly, trying to focus on the warping edges of your vision. everything feels off-kilter, a delicious spin in your mind, before you lower your gaze and lock eyes with both sukuna and gojo.
“yeah,” you murmur, a lazy grin tugging at your lips, your voice heavy and slow, the words slurring just a little. “i’m definitely too stoned.” the realization hits you in a way that only adds to the dreamlike amusement of the moment, and you let out another soft, dreamy laugh, the sound floating lazily into the air.
gojo lets out a sharp snort, his amusement barely contained as he watches you in your clearly altered state. “doll, you’re not just stoned, you’re practically on the moon right now,” he quips, his voice dripping with playful mockery as he chuckles low in his chest.
sukuna’s gaze, however, sharpens as he watches you intently, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. he takes in the dazed, almost ethereal look in your eyes and the soft, blissful smile on your lips. a flash of something darker, something possessive, flickers across his face. “you look completely out of it, doll,” sukuna murmurs, his voice husky and filled with low amusement, as his eyes lock onto yours. “are you even aware of what you’re saying right now?”
gojo leans forward, eyes glinting with intrigue, clearly enjoying the way you’re unraveling before him. “yeah, you’re totally baked,” he teases, a knowing smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “didn’t know you were such a lightweight.”
you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes at their relentless teasing, your fingers absently toying with the hem of your shirt. “of course, i’m aware,” you mumble, your voice a tad slow, but steady enough to keep their attention. “don’t treat me like i’m completely gone.”
your gaze flicks between sukuna and gojo, lingering on sukuna just a beat longer before flicking to gojo. a sly, playful grin curls on your lips as you lean back just slightly. “but since we’re talking about awareness,” you begin, your voice taking on a teasing, almost mischievous tone. “do either of you know what i’m aware of more than anything right now?”
sukuna raises an eyebrow, his expression a curious mixture of intrigue and caution. he knows you too well to not sense the playful mischief behind your words, but the exact nature of it eludes him for now.
gojo, however, leans in even closer, his interest piqued by the hint of something more beneath your words. “what are you aware of, doll?” he asks, his tone laced with curiosity, eyes flickering between you and sukuna. he silently acknowledges the possibility that you might just drop a bombshell.
sukuna can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, caught off guard by your unexpected shift in tone. gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes exaggeratedly before breaking into a chuckle of his own. “oh yeah? we’re dicks, huh?” gojo retorts, his voice dripping with mock offense, but the gleam in his eyes betrays the amusement bubbling beneath his words. “please, elaborate. i’d love to hear why you think we’re such terrible boyfriends.”
sukuna joins in with a chuckle, his face a perfect mix of amusement and exaggerated outrage. “yeah, doll,” he adds, his tone filled with feigned indignation. “don’t be shy now. go ahead and tell us all about our apparent dickishness.”
you hum softly, your amusement lacing the sound as you take another languid drag from the joint. your eyes half-lidded, a dreamy smile spreading across your lips as the high wraps around you. you don’t bother responding to their mock outrage, your laughter bubbling up effortlessly as you lazily pass the joint to sukuna.
sukuna accepts it with a shake of his head, his lips curling into a knowing smirk as he watches you with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “she’s in her own world,” he mutters, clearly entertained, before taking a slow drag from the joint himself.
gojo snorts as he observes you sprawled across sukuna’s lap, completely unbothered, as if the world around you had faded into a background blur. “look at you,” he teases, affection dripping from his words as he gazes at you with playful exasperation. “completely out of it. doll, you’re a walking PSA for why not to share weed with your boyfriends.”
he takes the joint back from sukuna, inhaling deeply, and blows a cloud of smoke into the air before his attention returns to you. “so,” he says, voice mockingly casual as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, “while you’re floating up there in space, any fun observations to share with us mere mortals stuck down here?”
you blink slowly, your gaze drifting lazily between sukuna and gojo before you lean back slightly and flash them a lazy grin. “fun observation?” you repeat, tilting your head in exaggerated thoughtfulness. “yeah, i’ve got one.”
sukuna and gojo exchange a quick glance, their curiosity piqued. sukuna’s smirk widens in anticipation, bracing himself for whatever absurdity you’re about to deliver. gojo leans forward, clearly eager for whatever nonsense you might have to offer. both of them regard you with arched eyebrows, their expressions a mixture of amusement and eager curiosity.
“alright, doll,” gojo encourages with a light, teasing tone. “let’s hear this fun observation of yours.” sukuna’s smirk deepens as he watches you, his arm instinctively curling around your waist to steady you, as if he knows you might topple over from the sheer weight of the haze surrounding you.
you shift slightly on sukuna’s lap, adjusting your position as his arm instinctively tightens around your waist to steady you. a lazy grin spreads across your lips as you gesture dramatically with your hands, drawing a large, exaggerated circle in the air.
“up here,” you say, your voice light and airy, “there’s this stupid orbit.” you pause, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and glance between sukuna and gojo. gojo leans forward, intrigued. “oh? and what’s in this ‘orbit,’ doll?” his tone is playful, though there's a spark of curiosity hidden beneath it.
you let out a soft chuckle, your fingers completing another exaggerated circle in the air before you deadpan, “it looks just like your whitehead—” you flick your gaze to gojo with a teasing smirk, “—and his bitch face.” your eyes dart to sukuna, your giggle bubbling up as you savor their reactions.
gojo’s smirk falters, his eyes narrowing at your unexpected retort. sukuna, however, erupts into a fit of roaring laughter, unable to stifle his amusement. he even gives you a playful pat on the ass as he laughs louder.
“oh, damn, doll,” sukuna chuckles, clearly entertained. “you're so out of it that you're talking out of your ass right now, huh? that's the funniest thing you've said all night,” sukuna laughs, his hand tightening its grip around your waist as if to keep you from slipping away.
gojo scoffs, feigning offense as he rolls his eyes. “oh, yeah? well, your orbit in this universe looks like a bunch of fuzzy, incoherent nonsense, doll.” you roll your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you mutter under your breath, “talking about nonsense
 rich coming from someone who’s always obnoxiously nonsense.”
you didn’t think they’d hear you, but both sukuna and gojo freeze for a moment, exchanging knowing looks before their eyes snap back to you. “oh, really?” gojo drawls, leaning in closer, his smirk sharpening into something far more challenging. “care to elaborate on what kind of ‘nonsense’ i’m spouting, doll?”
sukuna, still laughing, shakes his head, his grip on your waist tightening slightly, as if to keep you from slipping away. “nah, let her keep going,” he says, clearly relishing in the unfolding drama. “i wanna hear this too.”
you blink, realizing you’ve been caught. your cheeks flush—not from embarrassment, but from the combination of the weed haze and the realization you’ve just made a verbal slip-up. you let out a soft laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “nothing.”
gojo and sukuna exchange a knowing glance, their amusement growing as they watch you try to backtrack. sukuna lets out another chuckle, his hand still resting possessively on your waist as he grins. “oh, hell no, doll,” he says with a smirk. “you don’t get to back out now.”
gojo tilts his head, the devilish gleam in his eyes growing sharper as he leans closer to you. “yeah, doll, spill it. what did you mean when you called me obnoxious nonsense?”
you let out a soft laugh, the sound hazy and almost dreamlike as you shake your head. “nothing,” you murmur dismissively, waving a hand in the air before leaning forward and pressing your cheek against sukuna’s chest. his warmth is grounding, and you let yourself sink into the feeling as your body relaxes completely against him.
you hum softly, your eyes fluttering closed as you mutter, “damn, my head is spinning.” your words are barely audible, almost lost in the soft fabric of sukuna’s shirt. sukuna’s arms tighten around you, his chest rumbling with a low laugh as he notices how your body practically melts into his. he leans in, his voice soft but steady.
“you’re so out of it right now,” he murmurs, his hand gently running through your hair.
meanwhile, gojo chuckles, clearly entertained by the whole scene. “yeah, doll, you’re orbiting pretty hard up there in space right now,” he teases, reclining on his hands as he watches the situation unfold with glittering amusement.
you let out a heavy sigh, your entire body going limp as you allow yourself to sink further into sukuna’s chest. your weight presses against him completely, your arms falling limply to the floor on either side of his waist, your fingers brushing the carpet as though they’ve forgotten how to move.
your eyes remain closed, your face nuzzled into the fabric of sukuna’s shirt, his warmth wrapping around you like a heavy, comforting blanket. “mmm,” you mumble, your voice muffled, but content. sukuna’s soft chuckle vibrates through his chest, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. he continues gently running his fingers through your hair, grounding you with his steady touch.
gojo watches the scene with a smirk, his eyes flickering with a playful glint. “you’re practically a ragdoll right now, doll,” he teases, a hint of affection threading through his words. “looks like you’re gonna pass out any second.”
you mumble softly, your voice barely audible, “i might be...” your words trail off as your head sinks further into sukuna’s chest, your body lax in his embrace, just as gojo had jokingly predicted.
sukuna hums in acknowledgment, the vibrations from his chest soothing against your cheek. he leans down, pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if sealing an unspoken promise. “listen, doll,” he says, his voice low and serious, though the playful undertone still lingers. “you better never smoke without me or gojo around. i don’t want anyone trying to take advantage of you like this— useless and unaware.”
gojo nods in agreement with sukuna’s statement, his expression hardening for a moment as he contemplates the possibility. the idea of someone taking advantage of you, defenseless and lost in your high, clearly doesn't sit well with either of them.
“yeah, baby,” gojo adds, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “we don’t want anyone messing with you when you can’t even process what's going on. you're off limits when you’re like this, got it?”
gojo moves closer, shifting onto his side next to you. he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips brushing gently against your skin. his voice is barely above a whisper as he murmurs, “do you hear us, baby?”
you softly nod, your eyes still closed, the haze of the high clouding your senses. the steady warmth of sukuna’s body beneath you and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest provide a sense of security that lulls you into a deep sense of contentment. their words wrap around you like a protective cocoon, keeping you safe in their embrace.
sukuna lets out a low hum, feeling your nod, the knowledge that you understand their words settles over him like a heavy blanket. his fingers continue to stroke through your hair, the motion almost methodical, as he speaks again.
“good,” he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “you’re always off limits to anyone except us, but even more so when you’re in this state.” sukuna and gojo exchange a glance, a silent connection passing between them as they both watch you, boneless and disoriented on top of sukuna. it’s a sight that is both intriguing and worrisome, to witness you so completely undone by a mere drug.
sukuna’s hand continues to gently tangle in your hair, his touch soft yet firm, as if seeking to keep you grounded amidst the haze. gojo, meanwhile, leans forward and brushes his fingertips against your cheek, the touch barely a whisper. “baby,” he murmurs, his voice tender and concerned, “do you even know where you are right now?”
you let out a long, heavy sigh, the weight of everything pressing down on you like an insurmountable burden. the dizziness is overwhelming, a fog settling in your mind, clouding your thoughts and stealing your clarity. your eyelids flutter, but you fight the urge to succumb to the haze. instead of responding, you tighten your eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the spiraling confusion swirling inside your head. you try to cling to something solid, to anchor yourself amidst the storm of disorienting sensations.
yet, even through the thick fog, you can feel sukuna’s fingers gently carding through your hair, his touch steady and grounding. and gojo’s hand, warm and reassuring, rests lightly on your cheek, a subtle presence that brings you some semblance of comfort. still, the haze is suffocating, and focusing feels like an impossible task.
your body, like lead, refuses to obey your commands, sinking deeper into the disorienting daze. but in the midst of the confusion, the warmth of sukuna and gojo’s presence feels like a lighthouse in a storm, their proximity offering you a safe harbor, even if the world around you feels too far away. with your eyes closed, drifting between the fog of your mind and the warmth of their touch, you sense the soft exchange of glances between them. their faces, usually brimming with confidence and amusement, now carry a trace of concern, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
sukuna’s hand, still in your hair, moves with the same rhythmic precision, massaging your scalp with a soothing pressure that, against the weight of your dizzying thoughts, brings a small measure of clarity. the steady movement lulls you, pulling you from the disorienting fog, but it’s still hard to grasp onto anything concrete.
“doll,” sukuna’s voice cuts through the haze, deep and low, a soothing lullaby in the chaos of your mind. “open your eyes for us, will you? we need to see those beautiful eyes of yours.”
you try to comply, but it takes longer than expected. your response is sluggish, a slow nod that feels like an eternity to produce. finally, after what seems like a small eternity, your eyes crack open, just slightly, the world around you blurry, unfocused. you blink up at them, barely registering their expressions, the room around you spinning in a slow circle.
sukuna’s gaze softens when he sees you struggling to stay grounded, though his grip on you remains firm, a protective presence keeping you from slipping away. gojo lets out a breath, a soft sigh of relief escaping his lips as he watches your eyes flutter open, still glazed with the remnants of the fog in your mind.
“there you are,” gojo murmurs, his voice a gentle caress as his fingers trace the contours of your face, his touch light but deliberate, as if committing every feature to memory. his expression softens with a rare tenderness, but there’s still that playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, as if trying to lighten the atmosphere despite the obvious concern in his eyes.
sukuna continues his slow, steady motion through your hair, his touch almost tender now, his large hand providing a comforting pressure against your scalp. it’s as though he’s trying to pull you back to the surface, to anchor you to the present, but even his steady presence can’t erase the fog lingering in your mind.
“doll,” sukuna’s voice takes on a more serious tone now, yet still carries a certain warmth, “we need you to answer a question for us. just a simple question. think you can do that for us?” his words are firm, but there’s an undercurrent of reassurance in his voice, as though he's giving you the space to collect yourself.
you hum softly, the sound barely audible, but enough for them to hear. your response is slow, your thoughts clouded, but you’re still trying. you’re still there.
gojo and sukuna exchange another look, this one laced with an unspoken agreement. sukuna’s hand continues to glide through your hair, but now it’s even more deliberate, grounding you further, a steadying force in the midst of your dazed state.
“good,” gojo says, his tone carrying a touch of approval. “now, doll, listen closely. we’re going to ask you something, alright? it’s really simple, just one word, nothing complicated.” his voice is calm, though a faint hint of something more serious lingers beneath the playfulness. sukuna’s hand doesn’t falter, its rhythm steady as ever, anchoring you as gojo prepares to ask the question.
gojo takes a moment, a slight smirk playing at his lips, but his eyes reveal something deeper—a rare sincerity that surfaces when it’s just the three of you, alone in this moment.
“do you know where you are right now?” he asks, his voice still teasing, yet there’s a thread of concern woven in. his gaze never leaves you, as if watching for the smallest sign that you’re beginning to find your bearings again.
their eyes meet once more, their gazes a mixture of protectiveness and tenderness, but there's no mistaking the underlying urgency—wanting to be sure that you’re truly okay, that you’re not lost in the fog.
you scoff, the sound barely audible as you shift slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. if you were fully sober, you’d probably curse them out and smack them for treating you like you couldn't function on your own.
instead, you mutter, “fuck off,” your voice weak and hoarse, as you weakly push gojo’s shoulder with little force, too tired to even put any real effort into it. your body still feels like it’s floating, but the familiarity of their touch and their concern lingers, and for now, it’s enough to make you feel safe.
sukuna and gojo burst into laughter at your attempt to sass them, amused by your weak, half-hearted response. despite being under the influence, your sharp tongue and fiery attitude refuse to fade, a testament to your usual feistiness.
“oh, there’s our spitfire doll,” gojo chuckles, his voice full of affection and amusement, the sparkle in his eyes betraying his enjoyment. “even in the middle of a high, you can't seem to help yourself, can you?” leaning down with that characteristic grin, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his touch a gentle contrast to the tension in the room.
sukuna, still tenderly running his fingers through your hair, lets out a low chuckle. his touch, though playful, holds a subtle trace of affection as he murmurs, “i suppose that answers the question, though.” you let out a soft sigh, the exhaustion from the drug coursing through your body, making everything feel heavier. still cradled against sukuna, you fold your arms tighter around yourself, your body seeking the warmth and comfort that he offers. your eyes, still heavy with the haze of the high, close again as you murmur, “can we move to the bed now?” the soft pleading in your voice is clear, even though the comfort of sukuna’s arms makes it hard to summon the energy to move.
sukuna and gojo share a knowing look—unspoken communication passes between them, the depth of their concern evident in their eyes. the fog of your drugged state is apparent, and they both recognize that it’s time to move you to the bed.
“yeah, baby,” sukuna responds, his voice a soft mix of authority and care, “we’ll move you. just hold on for a second, alright?” with deliberate care, he shifts, lifting you gently as he rises from the floor. gojo trails behind, his gaze never leaving you, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that speaks volumes. he watches your every move, filled with a mix of concern and deep affection as he follows sukuna’s lead.
once at the bed, sukuna lays you down on the soft sheets, adjusting the pillows beneath your head to ensure you’re comfortable. gojo settles at the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning your face, lingering on the softness of your features, still filled with a quiet intensity.
sukuna chuckles again, this time low and with a hint of amusement, as he undresses, slipping off his clothes until only his boxers remain. his gaze lingers on you, watching the way your face has softened, relaxed in the aftermath of the high. a wry smirk plays at his lips as he mutters under his breath, “dumbass,” with affectionate exasperation. “look at her, completely out of it
 such a brat.” his words carry both humor and a layer of fondness, his teasing only highlighting his affection.
gojo, on the other hand, takes a moment to watch sukuna, a low whistle escaping his lips as his eyes roam over sukuna’s form before his attention snaps back to you. he leans in, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and delicate as though you might shatter if he wasn’t careful.
“she’s quite the dumbass right now, isn’t she?” gojo muses, his voice filled with playful amusement as a smirk tugs at his lips. he proceeds to gently remove the jewelry from your wrists and neck, placing each piece carefully on the nightstand before tenderly taking off your clothes, ensuring he’s gentle with every motion. his hands move with deliberate care, and once you’re only in your underwear, he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls the blanket up around you. his movements are tender and deliberate, as though trying to cocoon you in warmth and safety.
glancing toward the window, gojo observes the relentless rain, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. a quiet sigh escapes him as he watches the storm rage outside, his voice barely a whisper, “hell of a storm.” the low hum of rain becomes a background to the otherwise still room as he slowly undresses, ready to settle beside you.
meanwhile, sukuna reaches over to switch off the lights, plunging the room into darkness, save for the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. the room feels peaceful in contrast to the chaos outside, the distant thunder muffled by the closed windows and thick curtains. the silver moonlight casts a calming glow, the only source of light as they prepare to settle in.
with the room now dark, sukuna climbs into bed beside you, his warm body pressing gently against your side, his hand finding yours under the blanket. his fingers brush over your palm, tracing the lines of your hand as though trying to steady you, grounding you in the present.
gojo, having finished undressing, slides into the bed on your other side. the two of them sandwich you between them, their bodies close, limbs intertwined in an intimate, protective embrace. it’s a cocoon of warmth, of security, a stark contrast to the vulnerability you’re feeling from the high. despite your state, they’re hyper-aware of your every breath, your every movement.
sukuna, still holding your hand, presses his head gently against your shoulder, his voice low and soothing as he mutters, “there we go, all nice and comfortable, doll.” his words are a lullaby, grounding you further in the moment.
gojo, propped up on his elbow, studies your face intently, the faintest trace of concern mingling with the amusement still in his eyes. his touch is careful as he brushes another strand of hair from your face, a tenderness that speaks volumes in its simplicity.
“you’re gonna be one hell of a headache tomorrow,” he muses with a soft chuckle, a playful hint to his voice. “such a little idiot, letting yourself get so out of it.” sukuna’s chuckle rumbles against your back, the vibrations reverberating through your skin. “yeah, doll,” he agrees, his voice a deep rumble. “you’ll be feeling it tomorrow. but for now... we’ll just keep you right here, safe and sound.”
both sukuna and gojo tighten their hold on you, their arms encircling you like a protective barrier, refusing to let you slip out of reach even an inch. they’re both hyper-aware that you have no control over your body right now, and they’re fiercely protective over your vulnerability.
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disabirbity · 1 hour ago
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I've been on abilify and it singlehandedly was the medication that made me lose faith in trying more meds. I'd tried many before with many side effects and not much use, but that one? Fuck no. If that thing can fuck me up that bad, I'm not risking it anymore.
Things it did:
Caused what I call "sleep paralysis dreams". Not full sleep paralysis as in "I've opened my eyes and am hallucinating, and I cannot move". A recurring dream in which we could be anywhere, unable to move, and crushed with this all encompassing fear that we couldn't even fix while lucid (which we often were). The dream was basically a repeating line. I can't move what the fuck > This is that dream again > I know it's a dream why is it so scared > I need to wake up so bad > Finally wake up in actual physical pain. We had it almost every night, and the psychologist insisted that it wasn't the medication because it's not a listed side effect. But we stop the med and now we just... Don't dream at all--which is better! We actually don't dread sleeping anymore!
Caused heart palpitations! Multiple times a day, bad enough we got put on medication for them. They're gone since stopping abilify. We told the psych the meds were giving us symptoms and he said that it's definitely not the abilify. Uh huh.
Made me stop being depressed (yay!) but also unable to feel happy (not yay!). Literally couldn't feel anything on that med and we didn't even notice it, is the scary part.
Made me sleep for upwards of 14 hours a day. Chronic exhaustion, feeling so fucking tired and falling asleep everywhere. Horrible paired with those dreams that made us want to stay awake for a week.
Made me so hungry. That paired with undiagnosed hypothyroidism? Horrible combination--unless of course the abilify caused that too.
Didn't even make me stop hallucinating! Or stop the paranoia! It didn't do what it was even meant to in the first place!
So yeah... We hate the shit. Sorry to dump on your post but the solidarity in the notes was great and we wanted to share our piece. No shame if it helps you, it just definitely destroyed our life for a while. We still have heart palpitations on occasion, and we can't take naps because that makes it much more likely we get another of those dreams due to us drifting in and out of sleep a lot when we try to nap.
Is there... Something special about abilify that makes it suck to so many people? There's no other medication we've seen so consistently hated. We've been on other antipsychotics and they've been nowhere near as bad, and we don't see hate for others as much as this one either. What exactly makes it so horrible so often? Genuinely wondering why, if there's even a reason besides "psych system sucks and wants you sedated so you're not 'crazy' lol".
anti drug awareness campaign but it's "just say no to abilify" and directed at psychiatric patients
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ikkyfics · 2 days ago
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Beyond Words
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Remus Lupin x fem!reader
Summary: “Tough day?” Remus asked, turning slightly to watch you more closely. You shrugged. “Kind of. Just
 a lot of noise. I needed a little peace.” “Well, you came to the right place.”
Warnings: none
Masterlist
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The night at Hogwarts was peaceful, except for the distant sound of conversations and laughter coming from the Gryffindor Common Room. After a particularly busy day, all you wanted was a moment of peace, away from the noise and distractions. So, you climbed the stairs toward the Astronomy Tower, where you knew you could find the silence you longed for.
When you opened the heavy door, the first thing you saw was a familiar silhouette sitting on one of the stone benches under the faint light of the stars. Remus Lupin. He was bent over a book, his brown hair falling softly over his forehead as his eyes scanned the pages. You paused for a moment, hesitating.
“If you’re going back to the noise down there, don’t even think about it,” he said without looking up from the book, but there was a playful smile in his voice.
You sighed lightly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to. I know you,” he replied, carefully closing the book and finally lifting his gaze to you. That warm, curious brown stare made your heart race every time. He smiled, the kind of smile that seemed reserved only for you. “Come here.”
Remus slid over to make room on the stone bench for you to sit. Despite your initial reluctance, you walked over to him, sitting down with a heavy sigh.
“Tough day?” he asked, turning slightly to watch you more closely.
You shrugged. “Kind of. Just
 a lot of noise. I needed a little peace.”
“Well, you came to the right place,” he said softly, pulling something from his robe pocket. He held out his hand and, without saying anything, handed you a small piece of chocolate.
You raised an eyebrow, taking the treat. “You carry chocolate everywhere?”
“Of course,” he answered casually. “You never know when someone might need a little comfort.”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head, but accepted the chocolate gratefully. The sweet and comforting taste was exactly what you needed. Silence fell over you both again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was the kind of silence that only someone like Remus could make possible—a silence where you could simply exist.
He opened the book again, but his attention clearly wasn’t on the pages. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, as if studying you.
“You’re staring at me,” you commented without taking your eyes off the starry sky.
“It’s because you’re beautiful,” he said without hesitation.
You turned your face toward him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “You never get tired of saying that, do you?”
“To tell the truth? No,” he replied, smiling with that calm way of his that made it impossible to stay mad at him.
You shook your head, trying to hide how fast your heart was beating. He had this way of making even the simplest moments feel special, like they were just for the two of you.
After a while, Remus closed the book again and set it aside. He turned completely toward you, resting his elbow on his knee while propping his chin in his hand.
“Did you know that this is my favorite thing about you?”
You blinked, surprised. “What?”
“This,” he said, pointing slightly at you. “The way you can turn any place into something peaceful. Even if the day was a mess, even if I’m exhausted
 you make everything seem easier.”
“Me?” you asked, incredulous.
“You,” he confirmed, his brown eyes shining with sincerity. “Even the silence with you feels special.”
For a moment, you couldn’t say anything. Not because you didn’t know how to respond, but because it seemed impossible to put into words how much he meant to you. He was everything—a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, a constant in a world full of uncertainties.
“I
 I like you too,” you finally said, your voice softer than you intended.
He smiled, the kind of smile that made the world seem lighter. “Well, that’s convenient, considering we’re dating.”
You huffed, trying to keep up the air of indignation, but the heat rising in your face and the corner of your mouth betraying a smile didn’t help at all. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I hear that a lot,” he replied, tilting his head slightly, the playful tone softening his expression.
For a moment, you just stared at each other, the kind of silence that felt full of unspoken things, but things that didn’t need to be said. Then, before you could censor yourself, you let slip: “It’s just that you make everything seem so
 easy.”
Remus raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Easy? Me?”
“Yes, you,” you repeated, feeling your face heat up even more. “You have this
 thing. This way of making everything seem like it’s going to be fine. Even when it shouldn’t. It’s annoying.”
He laughed, that low, cozy laugh that seemed to fill the entire space. “I think that was the strangest compliment I’ve ever received.”
“It was sincere,” you shot back, looking at the sky to avoid his gaze. “And don’t get used to it. I don’t do this all the time.”
Remus didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned a little closer until you finally turned to face him again. His brown eyes were shining, a mix of affection and something deeper that made your heart stumble.
“You know I adore you, right?” he said softly, the tone so sincere it almost hurt.
You tried to laugh, but the intensity of his words caught you off guard. “Are you sure about that?”
“I am,” he said without hesitation. “And I’ll keep saying it until you truly believe it.”
Without thinking, you leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his lips. It was brief, but sweet, the kind of gesture that said more than any words could. When you pulled back, you saw he was smiling again—that smile that was all his, soft and charming.
“Was that an argument?” he asked, the playful tone returning.
“Maybe,” you replied, trying to hide how nervous you were, but the smile on his face told you he knew.
He extended his hand, his fingers gently brushing against yours before holding them. The scars on his skin were rough, but the touch was gentle, almost reverent. You knew he didn’t like drawing attention to the marks, but to you, they were just another part of him—another thing to admire.
“You’re beautiful, you know?” he said, his eyes fixed on yours.
“Remus,” you murmured, feeling your face heat up again.
“I’m serious,” he insisted, intertwining his fingers with yours. “It’s not just the way you look at me, or how you can understand everything without me having to say anything. It’s how you pay attention to everything, like now. I see the way you look at me, and that
 means more than you think.”
You swallowed hard, feeling a lump in your throat. “I
 I just
 really like you. A lot.”
He tilted his head, curious. “How much?”
You sighed, knowing you couldn’t escape. “Enough to think you deserve more than just this.”
Before he could respond, you moved closer again, holding his face in your hands. You ran your thumbs gently over the scars on his cheeks, looking at him with all the intensity you usually hid. “I really do adore you, Remus Lupin. Even the little, silly details.”
The surprise in his eyes lasted only a moment before it melted into something even softer. He held your hands, lightly kissing the palm of one of them. “Then we’re even.”
You laughed, but before you could say anything, he leaned in, kissing you with a sweetness that seemed to take all the air from your lungs. It wasn’t rushed or intense, but filled with a tenderness that said everything he felt.
When you pulled apart, he was still close, his forehead resting against yours. “You know there’s no turning back now, right? You’re stuck with me.”
“Am I?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, but you couldn’t stop the smile that escaped.
“Completely,” he replied, his smile matching yours.
And as you stayed there, tangled up in each other under the starlight, the world felt quieter, simpler—like nothing else mattered but the two of you.
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purpleangiie · 5 months ago
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Found this on Pinterest but there was no name. If you wrote it please tell me because I have to give credit for this because it's just too perfect and uh... the feels!
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setevulpo · 6 months ago
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feeling very green and yellow light in this dungeon tonight
angĂșstia, florbela espanca (translated by me)
interview with the vampire, s02e05: "don't be afraid, just start the tape"
i lock you in an american sonnet that is part prison, terrance hayes
island of the sequined love nun, christopher moore
beautiful short loser, ocean vuong
kinnporsche, s01e11
red doc>, anne carson
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sunb0ts · 1 month ago
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I LOVE AA4!!!!! APOLLO JUSTICE ACE ATTORNEY I LOVE YOU YOU ARE SO FILLED WITH CARE THAT IT IS EARTH SHATTERING TO ME AND YOU ARE SO DEAR TO MY HEART
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herewegobebe · 9 months ago
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·͙âș˚*â€ąÌ©Ì©Í™âœ©â€ąÌ©Ì©Í™*˚âșHappy Birthday Beautiful Boyâș˚*â€ąÌ©Ì©Í™âœ©â€ąÌ©Ì©Í™*˚âș‧ ♄ℒᔒᔛᔉᔧₒᔀ♄
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insidekatmind · 3 days ago
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"Under the Parisian Sky"- Trent Alexander Arnold
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The sun was gently setting behind the majestic silhouette of the Eiffel Tower, painting the sky with shades of pink, orange, and purple. Paris, with its timeless beauty, seemed to have stepped out of a love fairy tale. The streets were crowded with tourists and Parisians, but at that moment, everything seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you.
"Do you like it, my love?" asked Trent Alexander-Arnold, his English accent making you melt every time. His brown eyes, as deep as molten chocolate, shone with a special light as he gazed at you with infinite tenderness. His warm hand wrapped around yours with such gentleness, as if the entire world was held within that simple gesture.
"It's perfect, Trent," you replied, letting your gaze get lost in the wonder of the view. "I couldn't have imagined a better place to be with you."
"I knew you'd like it," he said with a sweet, knowing smile. "But it's not over yet, my love."
You tilted your head to the side, curious. "Oh yeah? What else do you have in mind, Mr. Alexander-Arnold?" you asked with a mischievous, playful smile.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You'll find out soon, my princess. For now, just trust me."
You continued walking along the cobblestone streets, hand in hand. Every so often, Trent would stop in front of a flower stall or a street artist, his sincere curiosity for the little things in the city on full display. That was just like him — always attentive to details, just like on the football pitch. And it was this very way of being that made you fall in love with him more each day.
"Shall we go there?" he suggested, pointing to a small pier overlooking the Seine. It was a secluded spot, away from the bustle, with a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, which now glowed with thousands of golden lights like a jewel in the heart of Paris's night.
"It's beautiful," you said, stopping beside him. The cool air caressed your skin, and the scent of the Seine's water mixed with that of wildflowers. It was as if nature itself wanted to bless this moment.
"Yeah, it is," he replied, but his gaze wasn't on the Eiffel Tower. It was on you.
You turned toward him, your heart beginning to beat faster. There was something different in his eyes, a light you had never seen before. His smile was tender, but also serious.
"What's wrong?" you asked, suddenly aware of the silence between you.
"I want to tell you something," he said, taking a deep breath. His fingers fidgeted nervously with the edge of his jacket. "Actually, I want to ask you something."
You frowned, your heart now racing wildly in your chest. "Trent, are you okay?" you asked, a hint of concern in your voice.
He laughed, but there was a note of sweet nervousness in his voice. "Yeah, I'm okay. I’m just
 I’m just a little emotional." Then he took a step back and slid a hand into his pocket. When his hand reemerged, he was holding a small blue velvet box. Your breath caught in your throat.
"No
" you whispered, bringing a hand to your mouth. "Trent, I don't believe it
"
He got down on one knee, pressing his knee against the cold surface of the pier. Around you, the world seemed to freeze. Every sound of the city softened, and the only thing you could hear was the frantic pounding of your heart.
"My love," he began, lifting his eyes to meet yours. His eyes glowed with emotion. "Since you came into my life, everything changed. You made every day brighter, every moment more special. I can't imagine my future without you by my side."
Your vision blurred from the tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn’t speak, your throat tight with emotion.
"I want to be there for you — in every joyful moment and every challenge. I want to be the man who makes you smile, who supports you, who loves you more and more every day." He opened the box, revealing a ring with a diamond that sparkled like the stars above you. "Will you marry me?"
A tear slid down your cheek, followed by another, and another still. A wave of overwhelming emotion swept over you. Your voice came out trembling but firm.
"Yes, Trent. Yes, I want to marry you!" you exclaimed, letting the tears stream freely down your face.
He laughed with joy, getting to his feet and pulling you into a tight embrace, spinning you around. His arms wrapped around you with such strength, and your hands clung to his shoulders as if to make sure you’d never let him go.
"I love you," he whispered against your ear, his voice full of emotion.
"I love you too, Trent. I love you more than words can explain," you replied, burying your face in his neck, the scent of his skin bringing you comfort and peace.
Paris, the city of love, had now become the symbol of your promise. And under the golden lights of the Eiffel Tower, you both vowed to love each other forever.
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aintmyjewelry · 11 months ago
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hey guys wdym star wars the force awakens is gonna be 9 years old
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quietlyblooms · 3 months ago
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the serotonin levels are OFF THE CHARTS!!!
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wtftaylr · 3 months ago
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ULYSSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!! !!! !!!!!!! ! ! ! đŸ©·đŸ©·đŸ©·đŸ©·đŸ©·
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mercurymacaroons · 5 months ago
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woagh 2 posts in one day
#sketch#listen your honor i love him#im unsure if i wanna tag yosuke in this bc theyre like 15 min sketches so i think imma leave it like this and let the lord decide#i know hes not a like the fan fave in persona but somehow the trash boy has grown on me and is now like top 4 for the whole damn franchise#like mold or smth#you just gotta like reimagine him as a very tired repressed bi 16 yr old in a closet made of glass and he immediately becomes more likeable#like bro he works retail and is 16 thats why hes like that#also like the scene from the group date in pq where he goes “all right now we can be partners for all eternity!!!!”#that lives in my head rent free#listen he lives with teddie and works retail#as someone who also worked retail i promise you most of his not kanji related outbursts are justified#the kanji stuff is bad fr fr but like hes also 16 in 2011#let the 1st 16yr old who was not an asshole and uninformed cast the first stone#sorry i have a lot of feelings for 1 yosuke hanamura and i needed to tell all of you in this my diary#which reminds me#most of yall came from me posting about dr which ndrv3 has a very special place in my heart and on my walls#but alas p4 kicked saihara to the curb so idk if ill be making anymore??????? maybe i might in the future but idk im old and tired#and dr is and always will be full of 13 yr olds which is fine but i dont wanna interact with them bc im old#and tired of the same discourse every 6 months#maybe when the not actually but totally is dr4 that kodaka is cooking up drops ill make dr art again but unlikely for rn#once i figure out how p4 protag chan's bowl cut works ill draw boys kissing#i do need to figure out how to draw boys kissing#since it will also lead to figuring out how to draw girls kissing which is almost dare i say more important#anywho thank you for coming to my newest diary entry#i will never stop yapping in the tags#this is a promise#yall gotta know all my thoughts in as many characters and tags tumblr will let me have
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