#untoldwithin

[cursedfell]

starter for @untoldwithin

" suguruuuuu. stop ignoring me, i already apologized, like, a thousand times for cutting your hair! it's not my fault you don't like it! "

[satorusms]

HE  DOESN'T  SMOKE  BUT  HE  CARRIES  A  PACK  WITH  HIM  EVERYWHERE  HE  GOES.  He  hates  cigarette  stench  but  loves  the  bitter  smell  as  it  lingers  on  his  best  friend.  He  wishes  @untoldwithin  didn't  smoke  --  it's  bad  for  his  health  but  so  is  the  job  and  as  much  as  Satoru  hates  to  admit  there's  higher  chance  the  curses  will  get  to  Getō  faster  than  any  illness  could.

suguru is outside in his pajamas with a jacket thrown on, seemingly just for a walk, but it's 3am.

Seeing  him  outside  his  window  in  the  faint  glow  of  schoolyard's  lamps  Satoru  is  quick  to  follow,  throwing  a  jacket  on  and  slipping  on  his  untied  boots,  jogging  towards  a  familiar  sillhouette,  paper  pack  of  coffin  nails  held  tightly  in  his  pocket.

Fresh  snow  crunches  under  Satoru's  feet  as  he  approaches  Suguru,  catching  up  and  resting  a  hand  on  his  best  friend's  shoulder.  “Hey,”  he  greets  unusually  softly,  quieter.  Maybe  it's  because  it's  three  am  --  but  Satoru  never  cared  for  that,  did  he?  --  or  maybe  it's  because  it's  cold.  Puff  of  air  turns  into  a  cloud  and  it's  like  they're  already  exhaling  smoke.

Snowflakes  adorn  Suguru's  raven  black  hair  like  sparkling  hairpins  so  pretty  on  the  contrasting  canvas,  so  pretty  in  the  golden  glow.  Upon  noticing,  Satoru's  eyes  go  just  a  tad  bit  wide  and  a  faint  flush  spreads  across  his  cheeks  --  but  it  can  be  blamed  on  the  night's  cold.  Getō  looks  like  some  god  or  other  heavenly  creature.  It  takes  Gojō's  breath  away  so  he  plays  it  cool  as  always.

“You  look  lonely,”  the  strongest  one  grins,  elbowing  the  other  playfully,  “I  can  fix  that.”

Suguru  looks  lonely.  Day  after  day,  worse  and  worse.  Circles  under  his  eyes  are  almost  as  dark  as  his  hair  and  he  lost  so  much  weight  Satoru  doesn't  what  to  do.  As  heartbreaking  as  it  is  Gojō  is  unable  to  fix  that  in  the  long  run  but  maybe...  Maybe  his  presence  will  be  enough  even  if  just  for  the  night.

[psielapki]

@untoldwithin's   megumi   fushiguro   &   the   fate   /   unprompted   (   inspired   by   this   )

megumi slow dances with unmei in his flat's living room. just let him try and don't mention wolves or fursuits p l e a s e

                    𝘯𝘦𝘸,   𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯,   𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯   —   𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳,   𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦,   𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵   ;   not   a   hand   in   hers,   but   her   hand   in   his,   steps   guided   with   precision,   feet   free   of   pain   as   nobody's   stepped   on   them   yet   (   &   won't,   there   are   very   little   things   so   sure   in   life,   but   this   one   is   one   of   them   ).

                    quiet   music,   shuffle   of   slippers   and   socks   against   wood   ;   summer   dress   and   a   comfy   sweatsuit,   deep   ocean   blue   and   icy   cold   grey   almost   locked   —   if   the   hollow   chamber   didn't   track   the   movement   of   her   own   legs   with   utmost   focus,   if   the   other   didn't   look   at   her   with   the   most   affection.

                    did   anything   change?   perhaps   —   it   feels   like   she   lets   him   lead   for   the   first   time,   lets   him   decide   for   the   first   time,   lets   him   take   control   for   the   first   time   ;   without   meticulously   planning   &   criticizing,   goes   with   the   flow,   trusts   so   deeply   to   have   her   movements   directed   without   a   word.

                    silly.

                    isn't   it?

                    to...   let   go,   like   that,   finally   —   in   something   so   painfully   insignificant   like   a   dance.   clear   -   headed,   safe,   with   her   life   once   in   pieces   now   glued   together.   she'll   move   in,   soon,   she   thinks,   and   have   this   place   decorated   ;   she   never   stopped,   even   for   a   second,   to   make   sure   a   house   feels   like   home   —   why   would   she,   if   there   was   no   guarantee   of   coming   back,   either   by   changing   cities,   countries,   continents   or   simply   —   dying?

                    there's   something   to   miss,   worth   coming   back   to,   worth   putting   work   into.

                    realization   makes   her   cry,   and   it's   then   when   unmei   steps   on   megumi's   feet,   without   care   for   rhythm   ;   her   face   presses   onto   his   chest,   hands   grip   his   sweatshirt   like   it's   the   lifeline.

                    tears   flow   with   that   little   moment   of   vulnerability,   and   fushiguro   doesn't   hush   her,   doesn't   question   —   pulls   her   closer,   holds   her,   rocks   them   both   to   the   song,   and   she's   sobbing   all   the   accumulated   anger   and   sorrow   she's   been   collecting   for   years.

                    and   she   feels   good,   by   his   side   —   for   the   whole   night   today,   and   for   the   rest   of   her   life   —   if   he   only   wanted.

                    because   she   wants   to.

[bolinity]

@untoldwithin asked:

it's a crisp day, with powdery snow that crunches under steps. ideal conditions, both to observe his daughter's thinly veiled sorrow, and the young man whose introduction had for a moment lifted it. he makes her happy, doesn't he? in the phone calls prior to their arrival, tonraq had learnt of what amon had done to his daughter, but no mention of this companion. " hm. bolin. " tonraq repeats, taking his hand in a firm clasp. " so you're the one who's been getting my daughter into all sorts of trouble? " he lets the tease linger, but doesn't want to torment the poor young thing too severely. he had accepted him the moment he saw his daughter look at him. a laugh rumbles in his chest and he pulls bolin in for a hug worthy of a polarbear-dog. " welcome, bolin. be at home. "

He had heard from Korra that her father was a big guy, but actually standing next to Tonraq was a whole different story. Bolin wondered if the feeling he was having in the moment was along the same line as what Korra might have felt seeing the skyscrapers of Republic City as he tried not to — and failed — to not look so surprised as he gazed up at the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. In reality, the earthbender's hands were only a little smaller than Tonraq's, but in their handshake his was consumed with his warmth, a stark contrast with the snap of the cold air even through their gloves. Even the rumble in the way Tonraq initially said his name could rival the most frightening storm he had experienced while living houseless on the streets.

Bolin was already at a loss of words as his brain tried to take in the sheer presence of this man, but the moment Tonraq asked if he was the one who had got Korra into all sort of trouble, his mind practically blue screened.

"I- Uh- Wh- N- Well, you see-..." Sounds tumbled out of his mouth along with his visible breath in a poor attempt to deny it, but also he wasn't going to put the blame on Korra for being the one who got them into situations (she's was the Avatar — she had to solve problems and in order to do that, she had to see and encounter those problems!)

But before he could try to formulate some sort of cohesive answer to the question, laughter rang through his ears and Bolin was pulled into an embrace. He tensed up immediately out of surprise, but it seemed that the warmth from the handshake was merely just a sampling of how warm a hug from Tonraq could be. Soon enough he relaxed before awkwardly wrapping his own arms around the chief's large frame to return the gesture.

"Uh, th-thank you, mister Tonraq, sir," he finally managed to say without stuttering to much after that roller coaster of emotions. He wasn't sure if he should loosen his hold first or not so he just kept hugging him back. If someone was able to see his face peeking from behind Tonraq's shoulder, they would have a clear view of how flushed and flustered he was.

[bendingmuses]

@untoldwithin sent: " I can't tell you how glad I am to see you unbroken. you always were strong. " 一 zaheer to ghazan

"I'm an earthbender. We're as hard to break as earth itself," Ghazan replied with a self-satisfied smirk. "Besides, I had a feeling we'd see each other again. Call it stubbornness, or whatever you like, but I knew the White Lotus couldn't keep us all locked up forever. They'd run out of time eventually."

[thedoctornumber11]

Starter for untoldwithin

((OOC: This is a starter for @untoldwithin ))

The Doctor was headed towards a new destination. He was headed towards the planet marked as Planet 3135 by universal destination. It had no actual name, as the people of the universe were too afraid to visit it. There were all sorts of rumors about what was on the planet, many of which focused around people who could manipulate the elements.

Of course, when there was a place most people avoided, that just made the Doctor want to visit it more. So he landed the TARDIS and walked outside into what looked like a large city. The Doctor saw a woman dressed in blue staring at him. "Hello," he smiled at her and waved, "I'm the Doctor. What's your name?"

[flameslegacy]

" if you want to talk about political business, you should go to izumi about them. " he hummed softly, before sliding a cup of tea toward his guest. " but a friend is always welcome. " -> @untoldwithin

[irohthesecond]

" hey, iroh! good to see you again, I hope -- I could do with a day with no alarming reports coming in. "　一　 avatar korra to general iroh!

Avatar Korra was certainly a familiar sight around Air Temple Island even after completing her airbending training under Master Tenzin, injecting a little energy into the tranquil atmosphere wherever she went. "Always a pleasure and an honor, Avatar," he said, raising his teacup as if to toast her. "No alarming reports from me; this is where I come to get away from all that."

[cursedfell]

customer-something, trespassing-something. the chef will be delighted to meet an old friend, won't he? " wow, sukuboo, you have a nice thing afoot here, " praises the sunglass-shaded smile. the well-stocked playground is clearly a marvel, but not enough to gawk with bare eyes. " sooo, wanna come teach at my school? or are you still stuck here chasing another michelin star? " 一 gojo to sukuna in some weirdass chef au. i know nothing, just that i've seen chef sukuna on your blog and im here with this abomination

sukuna  crosses  his  arms,  a  smirk  curling  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth  as  he  leans  back  against  the  counter,  eyeing  gojo  with  a  mix  of  amusement  and  disdain.  “ah,  if  it  isn’t  the  self-proclaimed  culinary  expert,”  he  replies,  his  voice  dripping  with  sarcasm.  “you  must  have  mistaken  this  place  for  a  school.  i  hardly  have  time  to  babysit  your  wannabe  chefs  when  i’m  busy  crafting  masterpieces  that  even  your  oversized  ego  couldn’t  fathom.”

he  takes  a  moment  to  scan  the  bustling  kitchen,  the  sounds  of  sizzling  pans  and  clattering  utensils  a  symphony  of  chaos  that  feels  like  home.  the  energy  here  is  alive,  electric,  and  it’s  where  he  thrives.  “and  as  for  chasing  michelin  stars,  let’s  just  say  i’m  more  interested  in  making  real  food  than  pandering  to  critics  who  wouldn’t  know  a  perfectly  cooked  steak  from  a  rock.  the  culinary  world  is  full  of  pretenders,  and  i  have  no  intention  of  joining  their  ranks.”

with  a  flick  of  his  wrist,  he  gestures  to  the  vibrant  dishes  being  plated  around  him,  colors  bursting  forth  like  an  artist’s  palette.  “you  see  all  this?  this  is  passion,  gojo.  this  is  what  cooking  is  about—creating  experiences  that  linger  long  after  the  last  bite.  it’s  not  about  some  shiny  accolade  that  holds  no  meaning  in  the  hands  of  fools.”

sukuna  leans  in  slightly,  his  piercing  eyes  narrowing  playfully  as  he  studies  gojo’s  reaction.  “but  i  appreciate  the  offer,  really.  teaching  at  your  school  would  be  an  insult  to  my  talents.  i  prefer  kitchens  that  challenge  me,  not  some  glorified  daycare  for  wannabe  cooks.”

he  straightens  up,  his  confident  demeanor  radiating  a  sense  of  superiority.  “now,  if  you  want  to  learn  something  worthwhile,  you’d  do  well  to  watch  and  take  notes.  just  don’t  expect  me  to  go  easy  on  you.  after  all,  i  only  deal  in  the  best—and  you  have  a  long  way  to  go  before  you  can  even  consider  standing  in  my  shadow.”

[satorusms]

SO  MANY  TIMES  SATORU  HAS  DECIDED  IT  IS  NOT  THE  RIGHT  TIME  --  not  because  he  was  afraid  of  kissing  his  best  friend  or  ruining  what  they  have  but  because  he  genuinely  wanted  it  to  be  special,  and  no  time  as  of  late  really  was  any  special  whatsoever,  routine  consuming  them  both,  chewing  and  swallowing  whole  without  any  warnings.

Summers  are  always  draining  like  that  --  mission  after  mission  with  little  time  to  yourself,  heat  and  curses,  little  to  no  sleep,  infinity  on  and  off,  academic  learning  and  somewhere  in  between  it  all,  a  can  of  sprite  or  coke  with  @untoldwithin  and  Shōko,  squeezed  as  well  deserved  breather,  but  not  happening  nearly  often  enough.  Satoru  is  aware  --  they  deserve  more.  His  moral  dilemma  is  not  really  a  dilemma;  he  doesn't  care  one  bit  about  humans  but  will  follow  his  best  friend's  beliefs  and  won't  pick  any  fights  over  it  --  with  very  little  time  ⅋  energy  they  already  have  for  normal  conversations  it's  pointless  to  waste  it  over  differing  opinions  that  voiced  aloud  won't  change  a  damn  thing.

Gojō  is  sadly  painfully  aware  of  how  different  it  used  to  be  for  Getō:  that  during  summer  high  schoolers  had  it  easier  and  easier  the  warmer  it  was  outside;  the  longer  sun  shone  above  their  heads,  the  longer  the  days  were,  the  stress  ⅋  weight  of  the  schoolyear  gradually  eased.  Not  in  Jujutsu  Tech  --  but  they  get  their  break  and  it  only  frustrates  the  older  more  --  because  it's  goodbye  for  few  weeks  and  he  still  haven't  confessed  or  at  least  kissed  Getō  like  he  wanted!  No  wonder  he's  grumpy  and  snappy  --  not  used  to  not  getting  what  he  wants  right  away.

Suguru  deserves  better  than  to  be  kissed  in  between�� exorcising  ⅋  absorbing  curses.

Jujutsu  Society's  prodigy  clenches  his  fists.

Holidays.

Holidays  Getō  and Shōko  will  spend  with  their  families  whilst  he's  trapped  within  the  school  grounds  with  nothing  to  come  back  to,  his  family's  lands  not  unwelcoming  but  unfamiliar.  It's  all  so  friggin'  unfair  he  pouts  as  they  exchange  their  goodbyes,  usual  smile  dimmed  and  gone  whenever  Suguru's  eyes  turn  another  direction.

“Sooo...  Yeah.”  Hands  stuffed  in  his  pockets,  Satoru  rocks  on  his  feet,  swaying  forwards  and  backwards,  gaze  averted. “Have  fun  at  home  or  whatever.”

It's  not  like  he  doesn't  want  Suguru  to  have  fun  but  he  doesn't  want  Suguru  to  have  more  fun  without  him.  On  top  of  that  Gojō  knows  he'll  be  lonely  without  these  two,  especially  without  Getō  and  because  of  that  he  sounds  way  less  friendly  than  usually.

Suguru's  train  will  be  there  any  minute  now  and  the  inevitable  separation  gnaws  at  the  older  boy's  heart  making  it  ache.  He'll  be  lonely.

Familiar  sound  of  wheels  on  rails  announces  upcoming  departure.  With  nothing  else  to  offer  Satoru  extends  his  hand  for  a  handshake.  He'll  miss Getō's  presence  so  much  it  hurts  already  but  then  something  he  couldn't  predict  happens  and  he's  speechless  with  his  eyes  wide  open,  stopping  mid-breath.

suguru pulls him in for a kiss. their first kiss.

“H-hey!”  Satoru  utters  the  moment  their  lips  part,  greatly  offended  --  and  with  a  flush  spreading  across  his  face.  “It  was  me--  I  was  supposed  to  do  that!”

[psielapki]

" ya like jazz? "

❝   i'm   sorry.   you're   talking.   you're   talking!   ❞

[bolinity]

for the munday meme: 4, 7, 13, 16!

❖ || ♡ Munday Meme ♡

4. Favourite thing about roleplaying?

already answered here but i'll talk about another thing i love about roleplaying! the people. it's fun to chat about characters we're passionate about to each other. tbh i'm really bad with, like, making predictions for media when they're airing, but i really enjoy talking more so about why things have happened, why characters did things that already happened over what they're about to do. i love geeking out about that with other people because the shared passion is so fun and energizing and aaaa love community and seeing what other people see when consuming media and how they take those ideas and put them into their portrayals.

7. NOTP for your muse?

im sorry but do not ship eska and bolin wheeze. i'm sure there's room to explore their dynamic, but i personally don't feel like pursuing it in a romantic sense, at least not for my bolin.

bonus story: i remember when they started dropping concept art for eska and desna before book 2 aired + announced that eska was a potential love interest for bolin and someone created a blog for rping eska. they wrote her as a very demure and soft spoken princess and asked if i was interested in shipping. i very politely declined saying i didn't feel comfortable writing with a character that technically hasn't been aired yet. they were very nice about it but also hoo boy haha

13. What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know?

answered here but have another one! i still want to rp this out but bolin has so much hesitation with driving lmao. there's so much going on and so much to pay attention to and you can only do so much but also everyone else on the road is another factor on top of that — even just thinking about that overwhelms him lmao. he does want to learn though.

16. Favourite trope?

i'm such a big sucker for found family and friends to lovers. huuuuuuge sucker for those two tropes so much. ugh. bolin is such a perfect vehicle for both.

[kasumies]

Surreal, all of it, like a film come to life. Airy strands swaying against his skin, soft grass beneath his bare feet ; Kokichi sits outside in the night, his first night out of the infirmary after surviving the fight with Mahito. His attention is diverted by approaching steps, and Miwa's pale hair, such a deep blue in the warm night, gives her away. His cheeks burn, and it feels so strange -- similar to the prickly sensation he's known all his life, but so pleasant.

" Oh. Miwa. I thought you'd be sleeping already, since it's really late. "

一　Kokichi to Miwa

the night is warm, a beckoning hand wrapped tight against shoulders that tremble out of instinct ( kasumi has always been very good at feeling what she is expected to feel, regardless of if her experience fits the truth of the world ). she cannot sleep 一　she has forgotten how. the shape of it escapes her. she cannot imagine many of them are sleeping ; those that have managed to steal away an hour or two will no doubt wake with a guilty fright. the tragedy of shibuya has reached this place : though no one will say it to her face, her cowardice is a shining scar across her very soul. she ran. she has not told the others about mechamaru's voice in her ear, fading and small, a whisper and a plea ( even if he lives, he does so as a traitor, and she does not wish to hand them more ammunition : besides, that moment together deserves to be kept private, at least for now ).

when she cannot sleep, she wanders. utahime - sensei despises this. it's not safe, she reminds, over and over again, as if the well - worn nature of the plea will somehow make it holy. or, at least, make it heard. though kasumi has been good at following orders all her life, this is the one act of rebellion she allows herself. she wanders. of course it's not long before she runs into him ( perhaps she has been hoping for this 一　hope is not a feeling she grants herself easily, not like misery or worry, but it has come to light inside of her seemingly without her permission ). " it's really late, " she agrees. there is a long pause where she stands apart from him, a little too far for comfortable conversation. her hands are folded in front of her, a gesture her mother had always called polite. utahime - sensei teased her often and said it made her look like an old lady. " does anyone know you're outside? "

[sangreprince]

“As far as I’m concerned, this business is tough enough on your own, you have to take any advantage you can.”　一　 Artemis to Zagreus

An Assortment of Dialog Prompts | Accepting | @untoldwithin

❝ Artemis. ❞ Exasperation is masked with amusement. Of his cousins, he perhaps got along with the reclusive hunter the best. Dionysus was a good friend all around but hard to hold a serious conversation with. Hermes was busy. But Artemis he could talk to. It was something that he deeply appreciated. Their shared love for the hunt helped the common ground between the ever-impatient Prince and the lone Huntress.

❝ You're not about to get me to smear myself in mud to mask my scent. I don't— ❞ Zagreus takes a moment to pause. Raise his arm, bringing the crook of his elbow to his nose. ❝ — I'm not that obvious, surely? ❞ Said the man reeking of Satyr blood.

[cursedfell]

[ slow motion ]　一　suguru to satoru even more teehee

[ slow motion ] a kiss in slow motion, accentuating every moment and sensation

satoru  doesn’t  expect  it,  the  sudden  tug  that  halts  his  retreat,  suguru’s  fingers  curling  around  his  wrist  with  a  firm,  unyielding  grip.  the  touch  sends  a  shock  through  him,  an  electric  thrill  that  courses  down  his  spine.  suguru’s  hand  is  warm  against  his  skin,  too  real  and  close  for  comfort,  and  it  takes  satoru  a  heartbeat  to  realize  that  his  infinity  is  off—he  had  let  it  down  without  thinking,  let  suguru  reach  him.

before  he  can  question  himself,  before  he  can  understand  why  he  left  himself  exposed  like  that,  suguru  pulls  him  back,  and  in  an  instant,  he’s  there—closer  than  he’s  ever  been.  satoru’s  breath  hitches  as  suguru’s  lips  find  his,  and  the  world  around  them  fades,  the  moment  stretching  into  eternity  as  though  time  itself  has  slowed  to  a  crawl.

the  kiss  is  a  collision,  a  meeting  of  fire  and  ice.  satoru’s  mind  blanks  as  he  feels  the  press  of  suguru’s  mouth,  the  way  it  moves  over  his  with  a  purpose  that’s  both  gentle  and  insistent.  there’s  an  ache  that  starts  in  his  chest,  spreading  outwards  with  every  slow,  deliberate  brush  of  suguru’s  lips,  as  though  he’s  trying  to  memorize  every  contour,  every  taste,  every  stolen  second.  it’s  filled  with  all  the  tension  that’s  always  crackled  between  them—years  of  unspoken  words,  of  anger  and  longing,  of  being  enemies  when  once  they  were  everything  to  each  other.

satoru  leans  in  despite  himself,  his  hands  finding  their  way  to  suguru’s  shoulders,  grasping  at  his  coat  as  if  to  pull  him  closer,  to  feel  more  of  him.  his  heart  is  pounding  in  his  ears,  and  the  slow  motion  of  the  kiss  only  heightens  every  sensation:  the  heat  of  suguru’s  breath,  the  subtle  tilt  of  his  head,  the  way  his  fingers  tighten  just  slightly  around  satoru’s  wrist,  like  he  doesn’t  want  to  let  him  go.  there’s  a  quiet  desperation  in  the  way  satoru  kisses  him  back,  a  need  that  burns  in  his  veins,  a  hunger  that’s  impossible  to  satisfy.

he  hates  himself  for  wanting  this,  for  wanting  suguru  when  he’s  sworn  to  stop  him.  but  in  this  moment,  nothing  else  matters—neither  the  war  they’re  fighting  nor  the  fate  of  the  world  that  hangs  in  the  balance.  all  that  exists  is  suguru’s  mouth  against  his,  the  slide  of  their  lips,  the  heat  that  builds  slowly,  inevitably,  as  satoru’s  tongue  tentatively  brushes  against  suguru’s  lower  lip,  seeking  entrance.

suguru  grants  it,  and  the  kiss  deepens,  becoming  something  darker,  something  raw  and  untamed.  satoru  can  taste  the  bitterness  on  suguru’s  tongue,  the  taste  of  a  man  who’s  chosen  destruction,  but  he  drinks  it  in  anyway,  craves  it  like  a  dying  man  craves  air.  he  pours  everything  into  that  kiss—his  frustration,  his  longing,  the  unspoken  plea  that  maybe,  just  maybe,  there’s  still  something  worth  saving  in  suguru.

it  feels  like  it  lasts  forever  and  not  nearly  long  enough  when  suguru  finally  pulls  back,  his  breathing  ragged,  his  grip  on  satoru’s  wrist  loosening.  satoru’s  lips  part  slightly  as  though  to  chase  after  him,  as  though  to  ask  for  more,  but  the  words  die  in  his  throat.  his  chest  is  heaving,  his  whole  body  thrumming  with  the  aftershocks  of  what  just  happened,  and  all  he  can  do  is  stare  into  suguru’s  eyes,  dark  and  unreadable,  as  though  searching  for  some  kind  of  answer.

"why  now?"  satoru’s  voice  is  barely  a  whisper,  a  crack  in  the  silence  that  surrounds  them.  he  doesn’t  know  what  he’s  asking—why  suguru  kissed  him,  why  he  let  it  happen,  why  the  two  of  them  are  standing  here  as  though  the  world  isn’t  breaking  apart  at  the  seams  because  of  them.

suguru  doesn’t  respond,  just  lets  his  hand  slip  from  satoru’s  wrist  and  turns  to  walk  away,  leaving  satoru  standing  there,  his  lips  still  tingling  from  the  kiss,  his  heart  still  aching  with  the  burn  of  wanting  someone  he  can  never  truly  have.

someone  he'll  never  reach.

[satorusms]

" another bikini model? "　suguru glares at his friend's phone, totally approving and not a little heartbroken.

“Isn't she hot?”