#we just really didn't have the energy to try and post

[the-shape-shifting-system]

New kintype time! Well, new. It really isn't, we're just kind of confused. So yeah, we figured a while ago that we are a phoenix (phoenixes? Since we're plural, I really don't know). Yay :3

[freaky-flawless]

Could we celebrate any other character's birthday....

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[thethingything]

I'm fatigued, my back hurts, I accidentally spent like 3 hours sat downstairs in a chair that made our back feel worse because our executive dysfunction prevented me getting up and going back upstairs even though I only went down there to get one thing, and now I really need to lay down but if I accidentally fall asleep again I feel like I'll wake up, realise I fell asleep and also that I feel like I wasted a big chunk of the day, and I'll end up feeling even worse again

[eterniityblooms]

updated my rules to include shipping info + a bit more about my monster muses specifically, since shipping with at LEAST one muse on this account is probably inevitable at some point

[chuluoyi]

✎ heaven's fury

- gojo satoru x reader

sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again

genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭

note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”

“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”

“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”

Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.

The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.

Apparently not.

“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”

Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.

. . .

“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”

At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.

“Satoru...?”

And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—

“Satoru, are you—?”

“Just fucking shut it!”

And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.

“Huh…?”

Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?

If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”

Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.

There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.

But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.

Damn it. Damn it all!

In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.

Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.

You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.

Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.

After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.

“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”

“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.

“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.

“…” This shithead. That's it.

“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”

“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”

Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.

“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.

“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”

Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.

You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.

“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”

He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.

And after a while...

“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”

The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.

“Mm-hmm, I know.”

“Really.”

“Mmm, really, really.”

He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”

Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.

“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”

And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.

“They're just some paranoid old fools—”

“Mm-hmm.”

“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”

“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”

“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”

...oh.

And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.

First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.

And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.

It made something inside you flutter.

“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”

“Huh?”

“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”

Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.

But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—

“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”

The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.

The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.

“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”

You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.

Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.

“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—

But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.

And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.

“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”

And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.

“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.

“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”

“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”

At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.

“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”

Epilogue

Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.

"Satoru... what are you...?"

He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."

However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.

"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."

When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.

"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"

"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."

Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered over your baby—

"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"

...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.

[der-schweizer]

There's my portal

As i said on @bet-on-me-13 'Where is my portal' post, here is my short about their idea. please enjoy.

Danny sipped his coffee, slowly shuffling towards his lab. It had been a long time since he had a ‘run on two coffees and some ecto’ weekend but here he was, Monday morning, on his way to work.

He really wanted to be in bed but he had bills to pay.

Quietly he shuffled into his lab, which he found oddly drafty and oddly bright, considering he hadn’t turned on the lights yet. After flicking them on he moved on towards his desk, passing a big gaping hole in the wall and—

Danny paused, shuffled backwards a bit and then looked at the place where his portal used to be. For a long moment he just looked, then did a slow blink and took another sip of coffee.

After making sure that his portal, including parts of the wall, were really gone, he let out a sigh and held his face. “Who the fuck stole my door?”

With a sigh he pushed his bangs out of his face and walked to his PC, to check the security footage of his Cameras. For once it wasn’t Vlad who stole his shit, Vlad at least had the courtesy to leave a note that he ‘borrowed’ something. It was safe to say that he was surprised to find the footage gone. There weren't many people that could hack through Tucker's programing.

Danny sat there, looking at the black screen of his PC for a long moment before thinking aloud. “Okay, we have one or more people who can; One, break through Tuckers firewalls. Two, physically move a portal weighing around ten tons and, Three, knows their way around Arcane Runes so as to not cause a mass ghost invasion.”

He thought about it for a minute before throwing his hands up. “Fuck this, I’m just going to use the other side to find it.” He got out of his chair before transforming. 

Danny focused his power into one of his fingers before poking the air in front of him, the tip of it pierced the fabric of space which he then used to rip it open. He quickly flew through the tear before it sealed again. Despite Wulf teaching him how to do it he still sucked at it, which was the main reason he built his portal.

Once in the Zone he looked around for it. He found it after over two hours of searching, which only served to piss him off to the point where he began muttering curses under his breath.

Standing in front of it, he gave it a quick inspection. After inspecting the Runes, Danny had to admit that, whoever had stolen it, knew his way around them. They pretty much locked out anyone not authorized and or approved by the Caster. Too bad for them, Danny had the ‘Masterkey’ and went through anyway.

John Constantine was holding his face, quietly counting to ten. Neither smoking nor drinking would help in this situation. After reaching fifty he ran his hands over his head, looking at the assembled brigade of idiots in front of him.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” He started, “You,” he pointed at Batman, “found an ‘unknown energy signature’ and went to investigate. Then you found a high security lab with had an active portal to ‘who knows where’ and your first decision was to fucking steal it?!?!”

Superman moved forward, opening his mouth to counter but Constantine didn't let him. “AND you moron helped him steal it, not to mention you!” he pointed at flash, “Help install it here, in the watchtower, without telling anyone from JLD about it?”

Flash looked a bit sheepish at him. “Well, in my defense I didn’t know it was stolen.”

Constantine wanted to bash his head against the next closest bulkhead, maybe that would help.

“Okay, okay.” Constantine facepalmed, trying to stop the aneurysm from building up more.

A deep chill suddenly filled the air and sent goosebumps all over his back, “Oh this is just getting better and better.” Constantine reached into his pocket for a warding charm, before turning around and swearing. He stopped swearing when he saw who had come through. “Oh, hey Phantom.”

“Constantine, why the fuck did you steal my portal?” Danny wasn’t even pissed anymore. He knew the English drunktard too well to blame him. Granted he was obnoxious, didn’t pay back his debt and came whenever it suited him, but Danny liked the man. He didn’t exasperate problems and always did what was necessary.

“Look, I didn’t.” He then threw a thumb over his shoulder, “Those morons did.”

“Constantine, do you know this entity?” Batman already looked on high alert.

“Excuse you! I have a name. And that is my Portal. Explain why it isn't where it is supposed to be.”

“The sensors of the Watchtower found an unknown energy signature, upon investigation we found an unsecured pathway to a different dimension, so we secured it.”

Danny stared at Batman for a solid minute, then simply said, “Oh I'm going to sue your ass so hard your grandkids will feel it.”

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[bi-writes]

whats wrong with ai?? genuinely curious <3

okay let's break it down. i'm an engineer, so i'm going to come at you from a perspective that may be different than someone else's.

i don't hate ai in every aspect. in theory, there are a lot of instances where, in fact, ai can help us do things a lot better without. here's a few examples:

ai detecting cancer

ai sorting recycling

some practical housekeeping that gemini (google ai) can do

all of the above examples are ways in which ai works with humans to do things in parallel with us. it's not overstepping--it's sorting, using pixels at a micro-level to detect abnormalities that we as humans can not, fixing a list. these are all really small, helpful ways that ai can work with us.

everything else about ai works against us. in general, ai is a huge consumer of natural resources. every prompt that you put into character.ai, chatgpt? this wastes water + energy. it's not free. a machine somewhere in the world has to swallow your prompt, call on a model to feed data into it and process more data, and then has to generate an answer for you all in a relatively short amount of time.

that is crazy expensive. someone is paying for that, and if it isn't you with your own money, it's the strain on the power grid, the water that cools the computers, the A/C that cools the data centers. and you aren't the only person using ai. chatgpt alone gets millions of users every single day, with probably thousands of prompts per second, so multiply your personal consumption by millions, and you can start to see how the picture is becoming overwhelming.

that is energy consumption alone. we haven't even talked about how problematic ai is ethically. there is currently no regulation in the united states about how ai should be developed, deployed, or used.

what does this mean for you?

it means that anything you post online is subject to data mining by an ai model (because why would they need to ask if there's no laws to stop them? wtf does it matter what it means to you to some idiot software engineer in the back room of an office making 3x your salary?). oh, that little fic you posted to wattpad that got a lot of attention? well now it's being used to teach ai how to write. oh, that sketch you made using adobe that you want to sell? adobe didn't tell you that anything you save to the cloud is now subject to being used for their ai models, so now your art is being replicated to generate ai images in photoshop, without crediting you (they have since said they don't do this...but privacy policies were never made to be human-readable, and i can't imagine they are the only company to sneakily try this). oh, your apartment just installed a new system that will use facial recognition to let their residents inside? oh, they didn't train their model with anyone but white people, so now all the black people living in that apartment building can't get into their homes. oh, you want to apply for a new job? the ai model that scans resumes learned from historical data that more men work that role than women (so the model basically thinks men are better than women), so now your resume is getting thrown out because you're a woman.

ai learns from data. and data is flawed. data is human. and as humans, we are racist, homophobic, misogynistic, transphobic, divided. so the ai models we train will learn from this. ai learns from people's creative works--their personal and artistic property. and now it's scrambling them all up to spit out generated images and written works that no one would ever want to read (because it's no longer a labor of love), and they're using that to make money. they're profiting off of people, and there's no one to stop them. they're also using generated images as marketing tools, to trick idiots on facebook, to make it so hard to be media literate that we have to question every single thing we see because now we don't know what's real and what's not.

the problem with ai is that it's doing more harm than good. and we as a society aren't doing our due diligence to understand the unintended consequences of it all. we aren't angry enough. we're too scared of stifling innovation that we're letting it regulate itself (aka letting companies decide), which has never been a good idea. we see it do one cool thing, and somehow that makes up for all the rest of the bullshit?

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight

contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.

author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎

7:58 PM

satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.

but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.

dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.

now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.

no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.

you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.

you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.

which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.

"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"

he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."

you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."

at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.

"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"

"satoru." 

"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.

10:34 PM

"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.

it's been like this every night.

"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"

"is it about the blindfold?"

"obviously."

he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."

"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"

he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."

you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."

"then why'd you as-"

"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.

satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."

"you seriously think i'd do that?"

"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 

"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"

"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."

he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.

so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"

"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 

"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."

satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 

but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 

how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.

a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 

but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.

so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.

somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.

a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 

"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"

satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."

he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.

to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.

"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"

"satoru, you look the same."

he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.

"yep."

"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."

"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."

"ah, i believe it was only six days."

"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"

satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."

he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 

but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.

[the-maddened-hatter]

Alright so I pretty much said all of this verbatim on a reblog of someone else's post, but I wanted to put it here on my blog too.

As I've mentioned before, I would *very* much like to see Peri canonically having a disability that causes him to use his wand/cane and not just have it be an accessory, and so I analyzed the episodes he's in that I've been able to see so far and came up with a few observations:

As much as I'd be unopposed to seeing it portrayed, leg issues don't really seem like a major deal to fairies in general given as Cosmo misplaced his for most of an episode and a pair of sticks were a good enough replacement for him to have fun at the arcade in human form (without even drawing human attention)

And Peri can apparently use his powers as listed above without his cane since he doesn't always immediately have it on his person (especially since Dev & Hazel took his cane in Lost in Fairy World and he didn't have any power or mobility problems)

But!

I *could* easily see him having some kind of magical fatigue issue or magical equivalent of hypotonia or balance disorder, since he's shown to be

very tired after a morning spent magically creating cupcakes (a probably small but very repetitive task that leaves him running low on energy)

When his stationary float is disrupted he remains seated instead of floating back up again

3. A minor contact/startle reflex is enough to disrupt his hover and cause him to immediately fall pretty hard if not very far

4. speaking of distance, he is shown to sometimes float a bit lower than his parents, which, while not consistent and likely just an animation choice, could tie in with the other points to support the diagnosis theory

However, pain may admittedly be more of a factor than the above images suggest,

he may not just be tired from shape shifting like I'd thought since right before that he was walking (albeit in horse form) and afterwards (low) cloud float is apparently easier and faster for him than just quickly trotting past his parents

He also didn't really seem to be having too much of a problem at all before he hit the ground

Where it goes to a definitely tired and possibly more pained look.

Maybe he didn't want to tell Dev that it was painful either out of pride or because he didn't want to potentially upset him and just went with "tired" because that was what he assumed. It'd be interesting to see if it happens again in a different form.

Personally I think it'd be cool to see both and have it be a chronic condition (directly magical or otherwise) that he already had before the series began (diagnosed or not).

If he's the first fairy kid born in a long time he probably would have been monitored very closely, but it may have taken a while for doctors to notice a problem since there was little reference for comparison and may have even caused some potentially serious problems that gave Comso & Wanda a bad scare, which could tie in pretty well with their developing a high amount of over protectiveness of him, and that in turn leading him to try and behave too far in the other direction (not seeking help when he really does need it, pushing himself way too hard and suffering the fallout which he then tries to hide, ect)

If he's undiagnosed but having the problems it could be interesting to see sort of an inversion of the "character must learn to accept their disability" storyline wherein he's more connecting certain events & symptoms and we get to see him adapting to accommodations and letting himself try different approaches moreso than to having new symptoms (though we as the audience may see these symptoms more or behaviors contextualized as symptoms where they weren't necessarily before).

Idk either way I just think it would be cool (and I've probably put away more analysis into this than will ever pay off lol)

also to everyone who draws him as a disabled mobility device user: ILY please draw more of it it feeds my soul

[rabid-dog-steve-horn]

Listen up you ignorant sheep.

He lies about everything is the point of me posting this.

He didn't have the power himself to ban fracking cause the state and federal government have control of the land involved and the laws and the regulations they passed due to democrat climate change agenda which Joe Biden is a democrat and said he agrees with climate change many numerous times himself. Look that up. Strange how only democrat areas banned fracking, eh?

He didn't stop them, he didn't try to find any way to reach any compromises, he left them go ahead and push their agenda forward. Why? That's what democrats do.

Look online, I posted a few things to prove you jerks wrong and nobody said a word cause there's the proof. There's tons of stuff online about it across the country, but I'm from Pennsylvania so I found a few examples close to home. Believe me there's a shitload online. I only picked a few cause I shouldn't have to waste time looking shit up cause nobody else is willing to cause they're too busy posting TikTok videos of silly animals and crying on Facebook they had a bad hair day.

We were energy independent, we weren't relying on other countries for oil or fossil fuels of any kind until Joe Biden came in passing executive orders that reversed every single fucking thing Trump put into effect to better our country. And that's why Trump jokingly said he'd be a dictator on day one cause sleepy Joe did that exact same fucking thing to him & our entire fucking country.

You assholes must like paying more for gas and helping terrorist countries earn money to buy weapons to murder people. Where are we getting our oil from you idiots? Joe depleted our oil reserves and prevented the pipelines on American soil from being completed while letting Russia finish theirs. Then rejoined that Paris Agreement that Trump took us out of to be more energy independent and free from environmental climate regulation nonsense.

You like funding China so they gain power? They can frack & mine for minerals to build your fucking electric car batteries and cell phone batteries which we could be doing ourselves if not for the democrats.

You might wanna look online to learn gas and fossil fuels are used in a lot of everyday products not just to make your cars drivable and heat your homes.

Perhaps if you'd look things up and do some fucking research instead of playing candy crush and gambling online you'd realize how wrong the democrats really are.

[whitefeathers]

perv!butcher who gets handsy with you but of course he can, hes the leader!

mdni. DARK CONTENT WARNING, READ MY PINNED POST BEFORE CONTINUING. cw: manipulation, dubiously consensual/non con touching but reader is into it, abuse of power. Choking, somnophilia. Daddy kink. Massive daddy issues and butcher is a father figure to u in this, heavy on the taboo and age diff. <3 im down to make a part 2 to this if ppl are interested too ! w/c: 1.2k

Butcher isn't a nice man. He's ruthless, does what he wants, whenever he wants - he's definitely got some sort of conscience in there, but it's drowned out by the primary emotion that drives him. Lust. It's usually for blood, but this time, it's for you.

A pretty young thing, definitely not dumb but definitely inexperienced. Sometimes you don't know when to shut your mouth, too excitable and bubbly, too full of energy. You mean well, you do. But when Butcher already has a headache, your begging to take temp V is driving him mad.

"I'll be okay, it won't hurt me, I could just have cool powers like you, and it'll be all over the next day! It could really help, we don't know what I'd be able to do and it could be something helpful!"

You're sat next to Butcher on the deflated couch in the pawn shop basement, only the pair of you there. You're sat with your legs crossed facing him, gesturing with your words, while Butcher is sat with his legs spread wide, pinching the bridge of his nose, facing directly ahead at the TV. He sighs, turning his head to look at you.

"Fucccck no. You ain't havin' any, end of story. Give 'ers a bit of peace and quiet, will ya? Me 'ead is banging, yer yapping isn't helping."

"I'm not yapping, I'm trying to help..." You murmur, dejected. You turn to face away from Butcher, frustrated and feeling like he doesn't trust you. He watches as the dull light from the TV illuminates your face, trying so hard to look calm and collected. Butcher sees right through you. He knows you need his approval like air.

Butcher sighs again. He's a horrible, fucked up man. He's about thirty years your senior. Fuck it, he'll blame the V for how he's acting if anyone pulls him up on it. If anyone dares. He's the leader, he can do what he likes.

"Look, c'mere. Ya wanna help? Sit,"

"Sit...?" You meet his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. Butcher is unwavering, and he looks scary. His eye contact is intense, and you choose to look down at his chain and his sweater instead.

"Yeah. Sit. Didn't stutter, did I? C'mere," your gaze follows his hand (so large that it's practically a paw) as he pats his strong upper thigh. Your head and your heart race, and you stay still.

"Isn't that... um... inappropriate?" You've always seen him as a mentor, a leader, a father figure. Of course you've had some thoughts, but you've shoved them down deep enough to silence them. He's practically your dad - and old enough to be, too. This is wrong.

Like a dam breaking, all those thoughts suddenly surface. Flickers of Butcher's strong, veiny hands, his rough lips, his even rougher voice calling you a good girl. Fuck, this is bad.

"Surely is. Stop ya whinin' though and give me what I want, yeah?"

You shakily stand up, nodding. You always want to make him proud, and deep down you know you want this - whatever this is. It could be anything from a cuddle to a punch in the gut. Butcher is a live wire.

You settle yourself in his lap, hovering by putting most of your weight on your white-socked feet still planted on the ground. Up this close, Butcher is all you can smell. Heady, masculine, intense. Like testosterone, sweat, and leather. You know it should gross you out but it doesn't.

Butcher's large arm manhandling you so your back is to his chest makes you gasp. He's overpowering and rough, too strong for his own good, too arrogant and self-serving. His hand wraps around to suddenly grip your throat, feeling your pulse but not choking you. Just holding. Your heart jumps into your throat. He might actually just kill you right here.

"You're nervous. Scared I'm gonna hurt ya, sweetheart? Scared I'm gonna make ya cry?" Your eyes flutter closed, and you nod, terrified. He's whispering into your ear, a dark growl. You can feel his warm breath against your neck, smelling like cigarette smoke and mint. His other arm is around your waist, keeping you close to him. Making it so you can't get away.

"Not gonna hurt ya. You want this too," Butcher takes a deep inhale, nostils flaring and eyes fluttering shut. The V has given him an increased sense of smell, and with your legs slightly spread, he can smell exactly what you've been desperate to hide.

"Yeah, you want this too. Can smell ya dripping. This little cunt want daddy, yeah?" Butcher laughs cruelly when his words make your breath stutter and a new gush of wetness to soak your panties, intensifying the smell of pussy that is driving him mad. He takes another deep inhale, and you try to shut your legs, only for Butcher to force them back open with a heavy palm, slapping the soft jiggle of your thigh through your cargos. Mean.

"No, no. No, no, baby, nuh uh. Nope. Don't fuck me about. You're on my team, and you're mine. You want a daddy? I'll be your daddy," you shake your head no, and Butcher coos.

"No? Don't want a daddy?"

"Don' want any daddy, want you," you whisper. "'S always been you."

He groans and adjusts you in his lap so you're even closer to him, and his lips are on your neck by his fingers, just resting. You can feel him now, hard against your ass. Fuck, either he's carrying a gun in his pants, or he's huge.

"Thaaat's right. Always been me. Picked ya up off the street, ya own dad ain't know how to treat ya. I do though. Know what brats like you need," his hand on your throat tightens, cutting off the circulation to your head and making you go dizzy. His lips move up, his tongue softly licking that spot where your neck meets your jaw.

"Need an older man to look after you. Need a good stuffin' to stop you gettin' all gobby. You've been giving me such a headache, princess. Gonna fuck that mouth outta ya. Just gotta have you passed out for it, yeah?"

You struggle to breathe, panicking. Passed out? Why? Your eyes start to flutter closed and Butcher's voice starts to echo in your head, feeling both a million miles away and right inside the pulse of your clit at the same time.

"Stupid lil cunt for daddy. Ya won't be able to take me when you're awake, so I just gotta force it while you're out... sleep now, sweetheart. Shhh." he coos as your vision goes spotty, and you go limp in his lap. Once he's sure you're out cold, he lays you down on the couch, and gets to work using you just how he's always wanted.

He's a deeply fucked up man, but it's not his fault you make such a perfect daddy's girl.

[hotpotatopotat]

Why I don't think Shigaraki or his legacy is over.

I don't normally do canon delves but I am compelled as a Tomura fan to dissect the final battle. This isn't a post on whether it's good or bad, but observations on what's been told.

Shigaraki's crux has always been that he feels like no one can possibly understand what he is trying to accomplish, that his message and suffering is pushed under the rug, and that society is so rotten there's nothing to be done. Deku's goal is to try and understand this.

When Deku breaks through in mha417, Tomura challenges him on this. What would even change if you saw what happened to me? What would you even DO about it? Deku declares to the one person that needs it most: To reach out and give you peace, and "that is why...I am here"

But... When given the chance to go back to a time when he was happy, Tenko chooses not to. "Nah." he says. I think this is often overlooked, but Tomura didn't WANT to leave behind everything he's done.

Tomura says, even if you got rid of my hatred, even if you succeed in "saving me", it doesn't change the fact that I still believe in the future I'm fighting for, to destroy. The villains need a hero, the suffering needs to end, and things need to change.

Hang on to that for a moment. All for One shows up. He mocks him, his dream, his goals, claiming that they weren't real, that they weren't his, that his heart doesn't matter, that none of it does. He's evil.

All for One does kill Tomura here... or at least he would have....

With Deku's final blow, he ignites any remaining embers, Shigaraki, included. They land the final blow to All for One. Without that spark, and without Nana having saved Tomura from fading away, he wouldn't have been able to do this. Tomura would have died before.

Tomura's vestige is still decaying away, and he laments the fact that maybe...he wasn't more than the crying kid Deku said he was. He couldn't do anything. He didn't even destroy Deku's hands. His dreams are over.

Izuku says that he wanted to stop the cycle of grief and suffering. Tomura gives him a soft "hah..." This is such a cathartic moment for them, because I believe that Tomura finally feels understood. He's actually quite relieved.

Strangely, Tomura is soft here. He's not decaying away anymore, he's solid, he's wearing his old shirt. He's NOT the same. He declares how he wants to be remembered, as the one who never stopped fighting to change the world. Izuku says, it's already been...but...

In mha424, Tomura instantly challenges this. With a giant smirk, he tells Deku that he better do his damn best to make sure that things change. It depends on the choices that he continues to make, not the conclusion of one battle.

424 feels like a giant wink wink nudge nudge for the reader. Deku is dissatisfied with not getting that instant gratification of "saving" Tenko, just like after a final battle, he won't get the instant gratification of changing the world. We don't get the gratification either.

But honestly, I really do believe that Deku will carry on Shigaraki's legacy and internalize it just like All Might's.

One final thing... You see his hair change textures. Left to right, It's decaying like in the final form, it's defined and stringy like in his early days, and it's airy and blocked like in his liberation days. This is such guardian angel energy, I swear.

I don't think this is the last we will see of him. And if it is, at least physically the last we see of him, I'm happy Deku will carry on what was truly in Tomura's heart.

[pomefioredove]

if you're still taking requests for the event could i request floyd with "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" ? ty !

hehe ofc ofc!

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: fic characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, pre book 3, kissing, yuu is very much canon yuu here lol a part of this event

Riddle's noble efforts to warn you about Floyd Leech had fallen on deaf ears.

"And stay out of trouble!" were his exact words, if you remembered correctly.

You'd almost scoffed.

You had already been at NRC for months; you'd fought monsters, solved mysteries, and come out of all of it in one piece.

You could handle a history of magic project.

Sure, this is your first mixed-year assignment; and yes, the project itself makes up a great portion of your semester grade...

...but if anyone had asked you, you'd say that a measly school presentation is nothing compared to what you've already been through.

"Remember not to play along with his antics; it only encourages him,"

Riddle had wasted no time lecturing you about your mysterious project partner the second his name left your lips.

You'd come to him to ask if he knew the guy, not his entire life story.

"Stay focused... and stay out of trouble!"

Trouble. Ha. Every second at NRC since you'd arrived had been trouble.

You walk into the library; like usual, it's mostly empty.

Floyd Leech, Floyd Leech... now, where would...?

"Hey, you!"

You turn on your heels to face the source of the shout; leaning against a bookshelf behind you is the tallest boy you've ever seen.

He even gives off the vague impression of towering over you, making you feel small regardless...

"Man, I almost didn't see 'ya, you're so tiny," he grins, baring a row of sharp teeth. "I'm gonna call you Shrimpy. Now, come onnn, I've been waiting forever!"

You're early. Before you can say as much, he grabs you by the forearm and drags you off to a table.

"Alright, Shrimpy," he says, taking a seat across from you. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Uhh..." you're still slightly dazed. He's got some energy, that's for sure.

Riddle's words flash through your mind.

"...Well, I was thinking we could find our material first, then outline..."

"Reading?" Floyd asks, slumping in his seat as if he'd just received terrible news.

You blink. "...Well, we're going to have to read a little,"

He groans, loudly. A few people in the library turn to stare before awkwardly shuffling away.

"...Nah, I'm not in the mood. Let me do 'somethin else,"

What had Riddle said yesterday? "He changes his mind at the drop of a hat. Arguing is no good,"

"...Okay," you say, tentatively reading his expression. "I'll start with the outline. Do you want to look for pictures instead?"

He's quiet, as if seriously considering the pros and cons of the offer, and then he shrugs.

You sigh. Riddle was just being overdramatic. This is fine!

Floyd becomes lost in his assigned job, leafing through an atlas in search of a map from the time period you're researching, leaving you to your reading.

It'd be an easier job with two people, but...

"You're real quiet, Shrimpy,"

You look up from your encyclopedia. He'd shoved the atlas aside, his eyes fixed on you instead.

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm reading...?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you're the serious type?" a loud, dramatic sigh follows. "I was hoping we could have some fun. I was really looking forward to meeting you and all..."

You have to remind yourself that you have a reputation here. Great...

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm a pretty boring person. Normal,"

Floyd's brow furrows. "Nah, I don't buy that. You wanna know what I think?"

You don't like this. The way he's looking at you, like he sees something you don't...

"...I think you only act normal 'cause you're afraid of being judged. You try way too hard to be a good student and stuff 'cause you wanna fit in here,"

Ouch. You blink, momentarily stunned to silence. He could tell all that just from watching you read?

"I'm just 'sayin," he gives you another sharp smile. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped acting all serious around me. You're way too tense."

"...Tense? I am not tense,"

Your denial only encourages him. A wide grin creeps across his face.

"Yeah, you know. You could feel the stress in this place from a mile away...

...Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

Riddle had drilled you for hours; Floyd stealing your things, making you chase him, getting bored and leaving, a thousand possible situations that could come out of a simple study session...

...This was not one of them.

Floyd grins again, wider this time. "Ahah, never mind. You're way too boring and normal for something like that, right?"

You suddenly feel hot; he's putting you on the spot, and he knows it. He seems to be living for your agitation.

"Hey, that's not fair-"

"Fair schmair," he cuts in. "I gave you a dare, and you can't do it. Happens all the time to you, I bet. It's-"

Riddle had warned you, several times, quite clearly, not to play along.

But... in your defense...

Floyd giggles against your lips, the delighted little noise giving away a hint of surprise. His hands, cold and clammy but nice nonetheless, grab hold of your face, drawing you closer into the kiss. He's threatening to pull you across the table at this point...

...It's a good thing you chose a time when the library would be empty.

After a minute or two, he lets go, leaving you breathless with another smile.

"I knew you had it in 'ya," he says, reaching across the table to pull the encyclopedia back towards him.

"My turn to read, okay? I was getting bored of the pictures,"

[ahqkas]

♯ STARMAN ; remus lupin

PAIRING! young!remus lupin x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! during a snowy holiday at the potter residence, remus finds himself caught between the matchmaking ideas of his two best friends and his growing feelings for you

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, idiots to lovers, kissing, james & sirius play the matchmakers, cursing + lmk

WORDS COUNT! 3k

NOTES! i posted this back on my old blog in 2022 / 2023 so if you’ve read this before no u didn’t❕ peter is absent in this ff , he’s spending the christmas with his own family

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

JAMES POTTER AND SIRIUS BLACK.

Good lads, great company, and even better matchmakers. Who wouldn't want to spend time with them? The two boys were always full of energy, their laughter infectious, and jokes just rolled from their tongues as naturally as breathing. You could be certain that boredom was a foreign concept in their presence.

That's what everyone thought.

Remus Lupin, however, isn't everyone.

To Remus, James and Sirius were more than just pranksters and school celebrities. They were his closest friends, brothers in all but blood, and the kids behind some of the most outlandish escapades Hogwarts had ever seen. Remus saw behind the facade of their shared humor and carefree attitudes. He understood the deeper layers of their cores — the loyalty that bound them together, the masked fears and insecurities, and the stupidity and courage that defined their actions.

James Potter, with his tousled hair and round glasses, had a heart as big as the Quidditch pitch. Sirius Black, with his roguish good looks and devil-may-care attitude, possessed a sharp intellect that clashed perfectly with his rebellious nature.

Yes, to the outside observers, James and Sirius appeared to be the life of the party (which they were) but to Remus, they were the definition of family.

Even though they certainly knew how to fuck things up.

ONE

"Just listen to us, Moony! This one will work out, me and James planned it for . . . one week, is it? Just trust us!"

Sirius Black's voice was brimming with enthusiasm, his gray eyes twinkling with the unspoken promise of yet another grand scheme. As these words left his mouth, Remus felt a surge of frustration well up inside him. His hands itched to do something else than the dishes — but he resisted the urge to punch the oldest Black brother. The sheer absurdity of the situation was almost laughable. This wasn't the first time his best friends came up with a plan to help him with one of his many problems. Some of their previous attempts had actually worked out quite well. But there were also unsolved problems that Remus had learned to live with, issues he simply couldn't — or wouldn't — allow them to meddle with. Like this one.

"Exactly, mate! We're not doing this just for fun, you know. We're doing it just for you, because as you can see, we know you don't have the courage to tell [Name] how you feel. And we wouldn't be suggesting this if we didn't think it had a real chance of working."

Remus nearly dropped the plate he was washing onto James' head. Did they really have to put their noses into his personal matters? It wasn't that he lacked the courage — he told himself that repeatedly — but the timing just wasn't right. And he had came over to James' house to enjoy the Christmas holiday in peace, not to snog off his best friend's face.

But once an idea comes into a marauder's head, it won't leave until it's out for the world to see.

Just Remus' luck.

The warm, soapy water cascaded over his hands as he resumed scrubbing the plate, trying to focus on the boring task before him rather than the frustration rushing through his system. Sirius's words carried in the air again.

"It was originally planned for Evans, but she wouldn't be as cool with it as [Name]. You know how they both are! Evans would try to hex James' ugly face first, then mine. And [Name]? Well, it seems like you just have to find out, mate."

You just have to find out, my arse.

"Look, why can't you just keep this thing as it was first planned? I'm sure Lily would appreciate the opportunity to snog James' stupid face," Remus said, his voice tinged with the frustration he felt. James made a noice that sounded suspiciously like a gasp and opened his mouth to protest, but Remus ignored him and kept going. "Okay, maybe not for the next ten years, but one day she surely would."

“For the record, my face is unbelievably handsome, thank you!”

The oldest Black brother crossed his arms across his chest, the rag he used to clean the dishes dangling from his hand and making a puddle of water beside him. James glared daggers at it. "You see, even if you politely declined our offer to bring some spice into your already boring life, we can't take no for an answer. We spent our free time searching up a single spell in the library. A bloody library, Moony! So, no. If you and [Name] don't kiss by the end of the Christmas, this prank will be considered unsuccessful, which is something the Marauders don't do."

Sirius' eyes held the same look of determination they had when Peter confidently told the rest of the group that he, Sirius Black, was going to win the snogging bet they made in their fourth year. Remus hadn't liked that gaze then, and he certainly didn't like it now, because he knew what it meant. Peter had won that bet. Which just means . . .

Remus saw his short life flash before his own eyes. This was not going to end up in the way he would like to. A bad, no wait, a horrible idea. But before he could do something to save himself from the coming catastrophe, the whole point of the prank entered the kitchen with a lopsided smile on your face. The boy always thought you were pretty. A pair of eyes that seemed to brighten up whenever your favourite topic is being talked about. A warm smile that makes Remus feel the comfort you gave to him. He wouldn't need to drink Veritaserum to admit that he fancied you.

"I just finished unpacking my stuff, so if you want to do something together . . ." you trailed off, looking into their eyes with an inviting gaze. Remus awkwardly moved his gaze away, heart pumping against rib cage.

James, being the little shit he is, nudged Sirius with a knowing smirk and nodded his head in the direction of his room. "Well, it looks like our job is finished here, doesn't it, Padfoot? We should help Moony here to unpack his trunk. Come on."

Before the werewolf could do anything to stop his two best mates, James grabbed Sirius by the crook of his elbow and ran into his room, leaving the pair of obvious friends alone in the Potters' kitchen.

You looked around, a little surprised by the sudden reaction of James and Sirius. Remus stood next to the sink, drying his hands on a rag. "That was new."

"Yeah, it was."

You leaned over the table, a playful glint was dancing in your eyes. "So, they left to unpack your trunk, huh? I wouldn't let them do it if I were in your place, because I know how much of a messy person James Potter can be. Sirius does look like one too. I've seen your dorm," you let out a laugh that Remus quickly joined.

"You're not wrong. Last time they helped me unpack, I couldn't find half my things for a week. They think it's hilarious to hide my socks in the most ridiculous places."

A playful twinkle sparkled in your eyes at the sudden memory. "Well, at least you know where to find them when something goes missing. I once found a pair of James' socks in the Astronomy Tower. Still haven't figured out how they got there."

"You know," the boy started, but his dark eyes caught the green and white blur above your head, and his breath hitched in the back of his throat. They really had the guts to do it! A spring of mistletoe hung precariously above you, clearly placed by James and Sirius.

Thinking quickly, Remus took your palm in his and met your gaze again. "You could help me unpack my things, so I know where they are and all that stuff you need to know about unpacking."

With a nod, you let him took the lead. "Okay, Remus. I'll save you from them."

Remus was going to kill these two.

TWO

The weather seemed to understand the friend group's wishes for snow, much to their excitement, prompting them all go out and mess around in the white blanket of cold snow. They couldn't charm snowballs yet, and the ice on the lake next to the Potter residence was a bit thin for their liking, but it was fun either way. Laughter and shouts of excitement filled the crisp air as they chased each other, fell into snowdrifts, and made the most of the wintry day.

When they returned home, it was already dark outside, and four mugs of hot chocolate were waiting for them, accompanied by Mrs Potter's cheerful face. The warmth and aroma of the sweet liquid welcomed them inside, melting away the chill from the frost.

James and Sirius, their energy finally exhausted, soon trudged off to bed after they finished their cups, leaving Remus and you to linger a bit longer. The house was quiet now, the only sounds the gentle cracking of fire and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors.

If only it could be like this every day, Remus thought to himself as he sat on the couch beside the fireplace. The flames radiated warmth, and with the mug in his hands, everything felt nice again. No stressing over studying, no thoughts for the upcoming war. He was in his own bubble, praying it wouldn't break at any given moment.

In his lap lay an opened annotated copy of a book you had given him as a Christmas present in your fourth year. He had read the book many times, and each time he found something new that caught his interest. It was like a never-ending story he never planned to finish.

"Hey, Remus."

The sudden sound of your voice and the feeling of your frame settling next to him, a knee brushing against his tight, made him shut the book with unnecessary force. The boy could feel your eyes on the side of his face so, he turned to meet your gaze, brown meeting [eye colour].

Remus had really pretty eyes. The rich brown seemed to melt in the warm room like the sweetest chocolate you had ever put on your tongue, with hazel sparks dancing in them. His eyes held something you couldn't quite put your finger on — a mystery, just like his person. But there was one thing you knew for sure: you would find comfort in them no matter the situation.

As you looked closer, you noticed faint freckles dusting his cheeks. Had they always been there? The gentle smattering of the constellation added to the roughness around his scars, making him appear even more breathtakingly beautiful. You found yourself mesmerized by the little details of his face, each one telling a story of its own.

Remus decided to talk first. "What are you doing here? Not that I mind, I'm just wondering. It's pretty late, you know," after those words left his mouth, Remus felt like a total fool. Merlin, talking with you was getting more difficult since he realized he liked you more than a friend should.

But when he saw your lips curving into a smile, he knew he hadn't messed up. "Can't sleep. It's hard to do so when you have to sleep on a different bed."

"Yeah, I can understand."

Once the comfortable silence fell upon the two of you, Remus wanted to stay like this as long as possible. Life with you in it, even after Hogwarts, would be like a dream come true. You could adopt a cat or a dog together. Remus had always wanted a pet . . . The thought of a future with you filled him with a warm, hopeful feeling.

Suddenly, you were standing on your feet in front of Remus, the book no longer in his lap. Instead, you were holding it open, reading the first words he had written on the front pages. He could feel his neck and ears start to warm up, and he was sure it wasn't from the unfinished hot chocolate.

"Nice book you got here. Must have been a nice present, don't you think?" You were teasing him, he knew it from the glint in your eyes, and you seemed to be enjoying it, too. So, he played along.

"Oh, I don't know, would you be surprised if your friends bought you a book when they see you every morning reading them?"

"This one must be your favourite, as the front is starting to lose its colour."

At the further mention of the book, Remus forgot about the teasing at took it from your hands. "You should read it, [Name], it's a really . . . ," he trailed off again, like he did yesterday, and it started to confuse you more and more. His eyes were looking at something above your head, too. Was the moving photo of little James framed behind you that interesting?

When you started to turn and look, Remus quickly turned you to face the direction of the kitchen and pushed the half filled mug with warm liquid into your palms. "I want more of that. Could you help me make it? Thanks, [Name]."

Remus was ready to push James and Sirius onto the thin ice tomorrow.

THREE

Remus didn't like packing. First, he needed to pack at least a day or two before leaving so he could sleep without overthinking, but he did overthink it anyway. Did I pack everything? I think I had more stuff when I got here . . . He usually spends half of the train ride worrying about things like this; the rest was joking around with his friends and saying goodbye for the summer. And second, he didn't like leaving. The places he went to — whether it was Hogwarts or the Potters' — had a special place in the depths of his heart. The only comforting thought in his head about it all was that he would come back.

With a sigh, he started to pick up his jumpers from the Gryffindor-themed rug James had in his room. They had spent their first Christmas together when they were twelve, and the boys slept in separated bedrooms to Mrs Potter's wishes. She wanted them to have their own privacy (they shared a dorm at school, after all), but as time went on and she realised her boys wanted to be together, the witch let them do as they wanted. You got your own room as this was your first holiday here.

As much as Remus thought about the task being annoying and gloomy, it was kind of relaxing to his mind into something else. James and Sirius hadn't tried anything on you two in the last few days, which worried the werewolf a bit. What were they planning? It wasn't like them, giving up on something they were so determined about.

At a knock on the door, Remus put his just-finished folded socks into his trunk and went to open the it. It couldn't be James and Sirius, and the adult Potters had gone for a walk into the village, which just leaves . . . you.

Oh.

Remus opened the door and revealed, in fact, your glowing face. His eyes took a look at you, and he found himself thinking how pretty you looked.

Your nose and cheeks looked like they were freezing, but it somehow made your face glow. Your beanie covered half of your forehead, and there was a huge spot of unmelted snow on it, probably thrown at you by one of the Marauders. But your eyes still caught his attention first. They showed your real emotions, and you were happy right now, which made Remus feel happy too.

Your smiled reached the corners of your eyes. Remus liked your smile. "Hi! Knew I would find you here. As you can probably see, we are having a snowball fight and I was wondering if you wanted to join me? James is being a git . . .”

Remus couldn't help but chuckle at your enthusiastic invitation. The idea of being outside with you, engaging in a playful snowball fight against his brothers, sounded far more appealing than packing his things. He also knew that if James was being a git, he'd have to intervene to keep the playing field fair.

He listened to you, he really did, but his attention was drawn by the green plant, dangling from the doorframe above your heads. However, this time you followed his gaze and saw what he was always searching for.

"Oh."

Before he could regret what he was about to do, his hands found your cheeks, and his eyes focused on yours, not bothered by the cold that started to reach his palms. "Can I kiss you?"

Your eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The heartfelt laughter of James and Sirius outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in that small, shared moment. A soft smile played on your lips as you voiced your inner desires.

"Yes, Remus, you can."

You placed your hands on the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape, and gently pulled him towards you. Your slightly cold lips met his warm ones, and the contrast sent shivers through both of you. The sensation was intoxicating, a rush of emotions and sensations that made your heart race. The warmth from his mouth spread through you, melting away any lingering cold from outside.

Remus's hands slid from your cheeks to cradle the back of your head, his fingers doing the same thing as yours, threading through your hair. You could feel the slightest tremble in them, a sign that he was just as affected by the kiss as you were.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, and you took a moment to catch your breath. Your eyelids fluttered open, and the look you shared was one of pure emotion. His brown eyes, now darker with desire and something deeper, gazed into yours with a mix of awe and admiration.

It felt like a core memory of your new found relationship was forming, one that will be forever treasured and reminded with nothing but adoration.

Remus was glad about the whole mistletoe prank but the boys will not hear a word from him about it. They were right, the Marauders won't let a prank go unfinished.