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lovedbath · 3 days

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CRIMSON FILM

TW: NONCON, actually disgusting stuff, murder, CRUEL Sukuna, kinda yandere, Sukuna is a BAD person, you got tricked

WC: 3k

Sukuna x Reader

Experiencing financial struggles is undoubtedly one of the most challenging situations a person can face. The desperation to earn money, to provide for oneself, and to secure a comfortable shelter becomes overwhelming, you know it well.

In your case, you had a phone so ancient that it even had a built-in radio feature, which could only be accessed through wired earphones.

You tirelessly attempted every job imaginable, from waitressing to dog sitting, and even caretaking. However, it seemed that no one was willing to give a chance to a homeless girl like yourself.

Then, just when you thought all hope was lost, you stumbled upon an advertisement for a homemade movie. It felt like a glimmer of opportunity, perhaps your last chance to turn things around.

You were youthful and attractive, or at least you believed so, and in need of cash. Rejection didn't scare you.

Here you were, seated in front of a garage, puffing on a cigarette with only 5 dollars in your pocket. Your hair was concealed beneath a hat, hands buried in an old, tattered hoodie, the tremble of your hands hidden from view. Winter was in full swing, the biting cold causing your body to shiver.

This location matched the address in the advertisement. It seemed sketchy as hell, and you were convinced it was some sort of human trafficking scheme, but you dismissed those suspicions. Those things were uncommon, right? Besides, you needed the money.

As the clock struck 4 am, the streets were deserted except for a few cars passing by at a snail's pace. The dimly lit garage flickered with its lights, while the sound of melting snow echoed through the air. You had expected to see some familiar faces, but to your surprise, it was just you standing there alone.

In that moment, a thought crossed your mind- Wasn't porn something everyone did nowadays? Or did people just stick to OnlyFans now?

Shaking off the thought, you chuckled to yourself, realizing that those in the industry didn't make 20k from a single scene.

Just as you were about to light another cigarette, the garage door creaked open, breaking the silence.

Some old man and a big, devilishly handsome guy started walking towards you.

The guy was one of the most attractive people you've ever seen in your life. With plump lips for a guy, and a beautiful face, accompanied with a killer body, near the old man, he was like a gift from God.

The man smiled and said, "You're here for the movie, right?"

You got up and looked at them both, "Yeah, I am here for the movie." You looked around. "Why in the hell am I the only one here?"

The elderly gentleman grinned, "After their test shoots, they refused to continue. You see, we do some rough scenes which were specified in the ad." He glanced at the muscular man. "It's unfortunate that some people don't bother to read the entire thing."

But you, on the other hand, read every word. You couldn't deny that it frightened you. However, the idea of getting paid 20k to be roughed up sounded absolutely perfect, and it still does, even in this sketchy place.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's just go inside, I'm freezing my ass off."

You began walking towards the door, relieved to finally be indoors. The dim, flickering lights were already providing some warmth.

As the door closed, the static sounds filled the air. The garage was massive, with numerous leather couches reflecting the glow of the many lights.

Just your typical casting couch with its typical cheap lights.

"So, what do I do?" You looked at the guy, "He’s going to fuck me or what?"

As you gazed at the man sitting on the chair, clad in a blue hoodie, you couldn't help but notice his carefree demeanor. One hand held a cigarette, while the other lazily lit it, his eyes fixed on you.

"Yes, he will. His name is Sukuna, you'll be doing a scene where he dominates you."

Nodding, you turned your attention to the bald old man. "Sure, but you haven't asked for my name, and I don't know yours."

Adjusting the camera in front of the large black couch, he replied, "Darling, a name holds no significance if you choose not to continue. Do you understand?" Once the camera was set, he began adjusting the spotlights.

Sukuna chuckled, his deep voice resonating in the room.

"That's true. But, I still want her to tell me. I’m gonna be fucking her after all."

You nervously smiled at him, he was looking right in your eye with a smirk.

"It's _, I hope we both enjoy the um, scene."

"Oh, I will enjoy it. As for you, well, we'll see," he said, taking a long drag from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Do you like dick, baby? Or you're just a dumb girl who's that desperate for money that you’ll fuck any guy?"

He stood up and walked towards you, tilting his head and saying "Hmm?"

"Uh, yes I do.”

He let out a low chuckle and placed the cigarette gently between your lips.

"Relax, you look like you're about to drop dead. No one's gonna harm you," he reassured you.

You took a drag from the cigarette and locked eyes with him. His smile seemed sinister, and you couldn't help but feel uneasy.

"Come on, we don't have all day," the old man urged impatiently.

As you made your way towards the couch, undressing along the way, you glanced at the old man.

"Shouldn't you be getting our consent on record or something?" you questioned, to which Sukuna let out a quiet laugh. He was already completely naked.

You could not look away, not because he was handsome, which he was, he had scars all over his arms, and torso. His dick was huge just like his body.

"No, just strip. C'mon."

You took your clothes off slowly. unaffected by the chill in the air. The flickering lights emitted crackling sounds, causing beads of perspiration to form on your forehead you felt like you were on ecstasy.

"Rolling now, don't worry, Sukuna will lead the scene."

As he drew closer, his hands began to explore your exposed skin. You felt vulnerable, weakened by hunger and substance abuse.

His gaze locked with yours, a faint smile playing on his lips. His captivating eyes sparkled in the glow of the surrounding lights.

Without warning, he pressed his lips against yours with force. His teeth grazed your lips and even your tongue, causing you to bleed. The sounds he emitted indicated his pleasure in the taste of your blood.

He yanked your head back, his fingers gripping your hair tightly, and he struck you across the face.

Shocked, you looked at him.

"Aww, don't be scared baby. Here, I'll comfort you."

Forcing you onto your knees, he continued to tug at your hair while gently caressing your cheek.

Abruptly, he yanked your hair forcefully, making you meet his gaze as he began to slap you relentlessly.

You whimpered and cried out in pain, still locking eyes with him, silently begging for mercy.

Spitting on you, he delivered a swift kick to your stomach, causing you to collapse to the ground.

Your mind was in a whirl, crimson droplets cascading onto the pristine floor, causing it to glisten with your blood.

As you attempted to inch away from him, uncertainty filled your mind. In this "rough scene," you had no idea what to anticipate, but being unexpectedly kicked in the stomach was definitely not on your radar.

"Oh God, fucking stop. Shouldn't we have a safeword?"

You glanced at the elderly man, yet he continued to film without a care in the world.

Sukuna yanked your hair, forcing you to kneel before him. His hands trembled, his eyes dilated. All you could do was meet his gaze.

"Shut the fuck up." he commanded, beginning to stroke himself inches from your face.

You fought against his grip, crying out and pleading for him to cease. This bastard was reveling in your distress.

The harder you resisted, the nearer he brought you to his weeping dick.

"Do you want to suck my cock, baby?" He shook your tear soaked face. "Huh, do you?"

He withdrew his hand from his cock and pushed them into your mouth. You could savor his taste along with the metallic tang of your own blood, trickling from your lips.

He was facefucking you with his fingers, touching your throat with them, making you taste every filthy thing on his hand.

His long nails were scraping your throat, the rough handling eventually made you throw up.

He started slapping you again, harder this time. It was just too much.

You tried to speak through his fingers. "Fuck, please. I'll do whatever you say."

He took his hands out of your mouth, letting you breathe. He was looking at the mess on the floor and his hands, which was blood, puke and spit.

"Yeah you fucking will. You beautiful, beautiful girl." He caressed your hair. "Just be a good bitch."

The moment his words escaped his lips, he forcefully pressed your face against his thighs, catching you off guard and causing you to involuntarily deepthroat him.

In order to avoid provoking him further, you attempted to suppress your discomfort by gagging a few times, hoping that he would cum soon and bring this to an end.

His growls filled the air as he tightened his grip around your face, his intense gaze locked onto your eyes, intensifying the unsettling nature of the situation.

Seated comfortably on the couch, he guided you to sit between his legs, as you continued to suck his dick like your life depended on it.

He was too aggressive, moving too quickly. Your head throbbed from the force and his rough handling of your hair.

"Fuck, my little whore. You're so desperate it turns me on so much."

As he continued to tug at your hair, he manipulated your head as if it were a puppet on a string. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans blending with the crackling static emitted by the flickering lights.

You could sense his movements and the sound of him rummaging through something nearby, but you couldn't quite make out what he was taking until the distinct sound of a cigarette being lit reached your ears.

You shifted your gaze to catch a glimpse of him, it was your purse, your cigarette.

A mischievous smile danced across his face as he brought the lit cigarette to his lips.

One after another, he smoked your cigarettes, extinguishing each cigarette on various parts of your body. Your arms, your shoulders, your hands all became the unfortunate recipients of his fiery ashes.

He was moaning loudly, his dick throbbing over your tongue, suddenly he came down your throat, filling your mouth in the process.

He locked eyes with you, commanding, "Swallow." With a final puff of his cigarette, he exhaled satisfaction.

You swallowed and heard him laugh. "Good fucking girl, how'd it taste?"

You were desperate to grab your money and escape this place, but you couldn't control your anger.

"Fuck you, you fucking bastard." You angrily spat at him, and his laughter filled the air.

In an instant, his hand gripped your face, prying your mouth open. You vigorously shook your head, knowing all too well what was about to happen.

"Uh no, baby. C'mon, tongue out. Smile at me and put your tongue out."

As you attempted to rise to your feet, he swiftly struck you, the cigarette firmly held between his lips.

Meeting his gaze, you refused to comply, prompting another forceful slap across your face.

Blood trickled down, exhaustion weighed heavily upon you, and all you yearned for was an end to this torment.

Sticking out your tongue, your face flushed and tears streaming down your cheeks, you hoped to appease him.

He shook his head and commanded, "Smile."

With a forced smile, he relished in building anticipation, gradually inching the cigarette closer to your quivering tongue.

Now sobbing uncontrollably, you pleaded with him, desperate for mercy.

"Aw, no my love. Don't cry. Here, I'll give you a gift." he said, and spat on your tongue.

In an instant, he extinguished the cigarette on your tongue, exactly where he had spat. Your screams filled the room, but he quickly removed the cigarette and planted a kiss on your lips.

"You did so good, baby." he whispered as he directed your gaze towards the camera. The old man behind it zoomed in on your face.

"Smile." he instructed.

And so you did.

After the shoot ended, Sukuna rose to his feet and left you sprawled on the floor. The mixture of emotions overwhelmed you, leaving you feeling both empty and relieved that it was finally over.

Your body throbbed with pain, particularly your tongue, which felt as though it had been set ablaze. It was a momentary sensation, but it left a lasting impact.

Slowly, you managed to get up and approached the elderly man who was nonchalantly switching off some lights without even acknowledging your presence.

"Give me my damn money so I can get out of here, you bastard," you managed to utter, barely recognizing your own voice as it pained you to speak.

He glanced at you and replied, "No, sweetheart. The shoot isn't finished yet."

Your trembling intensified as he continued with whatever he was doing.

"Yes, it damn well is! Give me the money now. I'll call the police if I have to."

"I think you need to relax. Go to that room over there, Sukuna will give you something to calm down," he suggested.

Frantically, you searched for your purse, a telephone, any means of escape, but he caught on to your desperation.

"Don't even think about it. Your phone, purse, clothes, everything is gone, and all the doors are locked," you noticed Sukuna standing in a nearby hallway, observing you.

"Just complete the shoot, and you'll leave with your money," the old man stated, turning his attention to Sukuna.

"Sukuna, give this woman something to calm her down. She's getting on my nerves."

Sukuna simply replied, "Sure," and began approaching you with a purse in hand.

He withdrew a syringe and began preparing the drug methodically. You were unable to move or speak, only able to watch him in silence.

He tapped on the nearby couch and instructed you to sit down. Following his command, you complied.

With warm eyes and a smile on his face, he looked at you.

"I don't want it," you pleaded. "Please, just don't."

He glanced at the old man, then back at you. "Do whatever you want, Sukuna, but if she starts freaking out, I won't be there to help you."

Sukuna pretended to ponder for a moment, then turned his gaze towards you.

"What should I do, my beautiful girl? I want you to be calm and submissive."

You shook your head, knowing that those drugs would render you.

"Beg me not to drug you. If I like it, I'll consider it."

"You asshole, what more do you want from me?" you said, you knew it would get him mad but seeing his smiling face made you sick.

"OK, suit yourself, baby. It seems like you need this."

He swiftly caught your wrist before you could escape, plunging the needle into your skin. Your cry of pain prompted him to gently instruct you to stay calm.

"Take it easy, I don't want you to injure yourself."

The injection was administered rapidly, overwhelming you. As you gazed into his eyes, everything faded to black.

As you slowly regained consciousness, the sounds of chatter and laughter filled the room. Disoriented, you realized you were on the floor, your arms painfully bound behind your back. Three individuals were now present, including the old man and Sukuna. Another man, with blonde hair and a strong physique, stood among them.

You groaned and managed to sit up, feeling the ache in your arm from the rough injection. The old man was busy arranging a mattress on the floor, while Sukuna engaged in conversation with the other man.

"She's awake," the man announced. "Come on, I can't wait to have my way with her."

As his words sank in, fear gripped you, prompting you to crawl away. However, the man swiftly grabbed hold of you and dragged you towards the mattress.

Your gaze met Sukuna's, who was smoking and observing you intently. Though anger flickered in his eyes, a faint smirk remained on his face.

"Please, Sukuna," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "I-I don't want him." Sukuna extinguished his cigarette, his gaze never leaving you. "Don't make me go through this."

The man laughed mockingly. "Yeah, right," he sneered. "Like he'll listen to you."

Sukuna glared at the man, a clear disdain evident in his expression. Perhaps he despised him too, as his smirk vanished.

"Shut up. Your voice disgusts me," Sukuna spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

The man shrugged dismissively. "Whatever," he muttered, proceeding to undress.

Sukuna approached you, offering a helping hand to sit up. The bright lights overwhelmed your senses, and his proximity felt suffocating. Overwhelmed, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and began sobbing uncontrollably.

He caressed your hair softly as he whispered soothing words to you.

"Are you ready to beg now, baby?" I'll help you, I'll do whatever you say." His eyes gleamed with desire.

"Just beg me."

And you did, you begged him. Like a fool, you begged him.

He continued to stroke your hair as you cried, then he tenderly kissed you, causing you to fall silent and gaze at him with tear-filled eyes.

"Alright, darling. He won't harm you. I'll guarantee that."

He grinned at you before walking away.

"Lay down so we can get started, I'm tired of waiting."

The guy looked at him and said "So she's going to be on top, huh? Where is the fun in that?" He looked around.

"Lay the fuck down, before your dick gets soft."

He chuckled and advanced towards you, causing you to scramble to the edge of the mattress as he settled in.

As the elderly man uttered "Rolling," Sukuna positioned you on top of the man, while you fought to free yourself.

The gleam in his eyes transformed into one of desire.

Uncertain of your role in this unsettling scenario, fear gripped you even tighter.

Avoiding his gaze, you shut your eyes, perspiration beading on your forehead as you trembled, desperate to escape.

"Look at me," Sukuna's voice commanded. "Just look at me."

Reaching beneath the pillow, he flashed a grin at you. "Watch."

His disheveled hair and flushed face, glistening with sweat, gave him a primal, menacing appearance.

He brandished a knife, swift and merciless, plunging it into the man's throat before you could utter a single word.

Over and over, the gruesome scene played out...

His entire body became drenched in a sea of crimson, his hair and face stained with the deep red hue.

Despite the deep gash in the man's throat, his eyes remained wide open, staring into the void.

As you attempted to escape, Sukuna seized you by the hair, dragging you closer to his bloodied victim.

The poor soul choked on his own lifeblood, his eyes turning white as he convulsed and fought for air.

The knife remained embedded in the wound, and as you met eye level with the gruesome sight, Sukuna removed the blade, forcefully pressing your face into the gaping wound.

Your screams echoed through the air, the taste of blood filling your mouth, the metallic scent overwhelming your senses.

Trapped with your arms bound and his hands entangled in your hair, escape seemed impossible.

Amidst Sukuna’s laughter, you began to choke on his blood, your own life hanging by a thread.

He pulled you back when you went limp, his lips descending upon yours in a twisted display of affection.

"You are so beautiful. fuck. No one can harm you now, can they?" he taunted, awaiting your response.

Silence greeted his words, prompting him to resume his savage assault on the guy’s throat, his hair pulled taut in his grip.

After a while, his head was severed from his body, a macabre end to his reign of terror.

He carelessly discarded his head like a lifeless doll, fixing his gaze upon you, like you were his next victim.

"Huh? He can't now, right? Fucking thank me."

As you opened your mouth to speak, the scene that unfolded before you was beyond horrifying. It was a sight that shook you to your core, causing you to recoil and become sick to your stomach.

In that moment of despair, he gently pushed the body away from the mattress and embraced you tightly. "Oh my baby, calm down. I'm here for you," he reassured you, his voice filled with fake concern.

To your surprise, he began to lick your entire body, as if trying to cleanse away the blood and filth that surrounded you. The sensation was overwhelming, and when he proceeded to eat you out, you couldn't help but let out a scream.

"Shh. I'll make everything better," he whispered soothingly, determined to bring you a sense of comfort amidst the chaos.

As you glanced down at his hair, now matted with dried blood, you desperately tried to ignore the stench of death that lingered in the air. He continued to pleasure you until it became almost unbearable, pushing you to the brink of unconsciousness.

You weren't even sure if you had reached climax when he finally stopped, but the twisted satisfaction on his face was undeniable. "You did incredibly well, my baby," he praised, forcing you to look into the camera.

Amidst the haunting silence, you heard the sound of the camera zooming in, and his voice echoed through the room. "Now, give me a smile."

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #yandere sukuna #darkfic #tw.noncon #jjk smut #sukuna smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere jjk

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a-doubleh-x · 1 day

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Fashionably Late Review: TADC Episode 2

Hi everyone! Welcome to Fashionably Late Reviews, where I write my thoughts on media days and days later, not because I've been in frequent dental pain, no, no, no. It's because I care for writing the most detailed, most thought through analysis you're ever gonna see!

Episode 1 started us with a general introduction as well as a mini arc for Pomni. Episode 2 resumes that with a proper self contained adventure while still breaking the mold in the process.

While this episode was shorter than the pilot, the writing was so good and the emotional beats so well played, I barely took notice. It felt like a very strong second step for the series, plus it gave every character at least a small moment to shine, which was very nice.

The theme of existential dread returns once more and this time we're treated to a showcase of how characters deal with it, prominently in this case Pomni, Ragatha and Jax. Interestingly, I noticed each of these has an NPC counterpart they get along with who reflects their personality in some way.

For the rest of this review, I'm going to run one by one following their perspectives and episode arcs in order to showcase the episode's narrative.

Pomni represents existential shock and subsequent apathy. After the first episode, we see her in a cathatonic state of depression, even while Ragatha tries to wake her up from that funk. Because her entire world has been shattered, she doesn't recognize herself anymore. She feels alone because nothing has meaning anymore.

The small distraction Ragatha offers her at the beginning, the adventure of the day, is rejected because she knows it's "fake". It's a sad substitute of all the experiences in the outside eorld she' been robbed of.

This is mirrored by Gummigoo, who undergoes a similar existential crisis when he learns he's an artificial construct with no agency. At that point, everything loses meaning for him as well, but just looking at someone in the same circusmtances as her fills Pomni with empathy, momentarily taking her out of her existential dread with a connection and purpose.

She knows getting out of the out of bounds area is not going to save them on the long term, but she still wants to do it because something has meaning for her again: Gummigoo, who may still be "fake" but holds enough humanity to feel "real" to her.

And then, Gummi dies, proving how fickle life is in front of an uncaring universe XD

It's still too early to say how much of an impact this will have on Pomni in the long run as well as how much of a trend it sets, so we'll see.

Ragatha represents coping through trivial distractions as as well as codependent altruism fueled by denial. We learnt the reason she goes along with the adventures is to keep herself and everyone else busy. This way everyone has something to do and don't go crazy: even if adventures are just trite entertainment.

She clearly puts others above herself, especially newbies like Pomni, in order to keep peace in the group (although I have a feeling she secretly hopes the others took care of her the same way).

Her counterpart is Princess Loolilaloo, whom she simply gets along with swimmingly. Princess Loo is presented as a sweet, kind and well meaning individual who unfortunately is blind to the circumstances surrounding her. This comes into play when she trusts the "heros" come out of nowhere with the key, which Jax holds for his own chaotic mischief.

Similarly, while Ragatha's intentions towards Pomni are benevolent, she fails to acknowledge her perspective and connect with her and instead annoys her with her toxic positivity. Fortunately, Kinger is there to teach her a valuable lesson, which is respecting others' boundaries and have patience.

Jax represents destructive revelry and rejection of morals. Because he believes nothing the crew does during their adventures matter, he spends the whole time stirring the pot in order to cause as much trouble as possible, not quite caring who gets affected as long as it's not himself.

It's interesting to note despite Jax's nihilistic tendencies, he seems to value self preservation, suggesting there are things he holds onto, after all. He's happy as long as he can see "funny things happen to people", but he's still not quite the master of his own world as he's still not satisfied if things go out of his control.

His counterpart is the Fudge, a haunting and deeply unsettling potrait of a sociopathic being. They're called a monster and they accepts that label willingly, as they were designed to be a monster. They claim to "hear the voices of the candy people, calling [them]". Tragically, their destructiveness is only in their nature.

Jax, however, causes pain deliberately and at the end we get a little hint of why. When the circus crew prepares Kauffmo's funeral, he looks sad for a moment, then angry. I think this is a subtle telling that Jax not that deep down *does* care for his fellow players, but he also rejects the pain of losing them, which is why he purposely pushes them off to avoid making connections.

At the end of the episode we're presented with a hopeful message, which is that even with the notion of existential dread, our connections are what keeps us alive in the face of non-existence. Although it seems there is no escape from the fate of abstraction yet, it seems that Pomni has gained a substantial comfort by seeing the humanity of the circus crew, represented by them grabbing her by the hand in her imaginary sequence.

All in all, a beautiful piece, although I dread what's still ahead of us XD As a writer, I've learnt to expect the unexpected, so I can only expect that we're going to have our hearts twisted and folded in ways we're absolutely *not* ready for. But it's all part of the fun! Right?

By the way, I just started writing a little fanfic for TADC. It's a Pomni x Ragatha story because I could use a little levity and I think everyone else as well. Expect that as well as more post like these in the upcoming future.

I'll see you fashionably late! 👋🎉🐊

#the amazing digital circus #pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #gummigoo #princess loolilalu #the fudge #analysis

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tainebot01 · 4 months

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A little portrait of my sona I made in December last year.

#my art #my sona #self sona #idk how accurate this is to how I look irl #but I hope it’s reflective of my personality at least

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puppyeared · 10 months

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personal character design headcanons + brainrot

Note: the re-bound!au does NOT belong to me, it belongs to @chipper-smol I’m just not normal about it lol

#I SAY PERSONAL BC ITS MY OWN SPIN ON IT. NOT CHIPPERS CANON UNLESS THEY DECIDE TO OR NOT YOU HEAR ME /LH #I made a banner and everything this time. PLWEASE send them your questions not me JAJFHDSF #I thought it would be cool if macaque has two separate forms as a shadow and inside a mindscape. like I wanted his shadow form to reflect #him in his prime and then the mindscape form as what he looked like when he died. or a more vulnerable state at least #based on LBD appearing to MK as the ivory lady when she died in the S3 special. I don’t know exactly what it was but my first thought seein #the white void was she was appearing to MK in his mindscape to talk to him. so I built on that #I wanted to give him a more ‘Smokey’ look as a shadow just based on how he manipulates them in the show like in shadow play. I hope this #makes it look cool and immaterial. and then his mindscape form would be more battered up and tangible #the last couple images are chippers ideas though since they said the monkeys are drawn to MK when macaque is possessing him lol #and the fact that macaque doesn’t have any senses unless he’s possessing someone + literally sniffing out wukong in the scroll 🤨📸#I also have a vivid image of macaque moving from the mindscape to physical form like umm. kind of like when he passes the boundary between #physical and spirit/mind(?) it’s like the shadow covers him like ink. or pulling Saran Wrap over your face and it clings to your skin #so it kind of makes the shadow seem like a sort of shell or covering.. and I love the idea of MK meeting macaque in the mindscape for the #first time too. like the moment mac rescues him from LBD and MK sees him all battered and tired looking brooooooo #I’m not even sure if that would count as a mindscape but it rattles around in my brain like loose marbles #god I fucking love this au. gives me imagination fuel swear to god #my art #doodles #lmk #Lego Monkie kid #Monkie kid #lmk au #re-bound!au #rebound au #lmk sun wukong #lmk swk #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #lmk mk #lmk xiaotian

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clownprince · 11 months

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alright i was already intrigued by the premise of knight terrors: the joker but i'm SO fucking hyped now you're telling me rosenberg is elaborating on the divorce arc??? also dark workplace comedy is exactly where i hoped they'd go with this

#scared to get my hopes up bc rosenberg hasn't done much with the batman/joker dynamic so idk his take on it #i think he has a solid understanding of joker as a character #and i'm beyond thrilled at the possibility that they're not just ignoring endgame and joker war and all that shit #joker trying to do his own thing and be his own person without batman is the logical next step #and i'm glad rosenberg managed to salvage something out of the raging dumpster fire that was tynion's take on joker #also mildly concerned about where this might go bc personally i like it when joker has no identity or purpose outside of batman #to me that's what defines joker. his lack of a stable identity and willingness to change to be what he thinks batman needs him to be #and idk if rosenberg is talking about in the nightmare or irl but my assumption is the nightmare will be reflected in the main narrative #rosenberg is also like. genuinely funny. to me at least. so i'm excited. just a bit nervous for what this might mean for the batman/joker #dynamic moving forward. idk #uhhh #batjokes #joker #knight terrors: the joker

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bisexualseraphim · 2 months

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Alright fine I’m gonna speak my mind.

My cis followers, listen up:

Being attracted to trans people is not inherently a fetish. The way you speak about trans people CAN be fetishistic, but 99% of the time when I see cis people calling out trans fetishism it’s literally just. Someone being really horny for a trans person. That’s not inherently fetishistic.

Sorry but it actually hurts me a little when I see cis people claim that a content creator is being fetishistic for drawing a trans guy with tits and a pussy, or for writing smut where a trans guy really enjoys using his pussy for sex, or God forbid said trans guy is fem. Trans people like that exist, you know. I myself have a pussy and fuck yes do I want people I’m in a relationship with to be attracted to it. And the same goes for many transfemmes who keep their natal parts, especially butch transfemmes.

Trans people are not a monolith. We don’t all hate our bodies or experience dysphoria or express our genders the same way. I swear to God cis people are all “allies” until a trans man is fem or a trans woman is butch or an enby isn’t androgynous or we actually enjoy our bodies or we have a kink or sexual fetish you don’t like.

Cis people: I know your hearts are in the right place and I appreciate that, but spouting “oh this content is fetishistic and Bad because trans men NEVER like their vaginas and are NEVER feminine” (or something equal to other trans people) is seriously not the allyship you think it is.

There is absolutely a conversation to be had about fetishising trans people — chasers in particular — but it’s quite a bit less black and white than hating certain FICTIONAL portrayals of trans people because these types of trans people exist in real life and we can see what you say about us.

I love my dick and my pussy (because I have both — are you aware we can have both?) but I saw a post today by someone I really like that actually made me feel kind of shit about myself because it was a cis person essentially saying that smut that describes my genitals in any particularly horny light is fetishistic and that really kind of hurt me. It made me feel like people think I’m undesirable due to my body only it was said in some backwards attempt to be an ally which is almost worse than deliberate transphobia lol.

I guess my point is: not all trans people’s feelings and experiences are universal. Call out obvious transphobia when you see it, yes, but please stop speaking for us about complex situations you just can’t fully understand unless you’re trans. Trans identities and experiences can be so much more complicated than what mainstream celebrities and articles will tell you and I just really need cis people to stop behaving as though the issues we face are a quick and easy fix. It never is. Sometimes the best allyship is to listen to how WE feel and take it into consideration instead of saying whatever you think we want you to say — because a lot of the time, we don’t.

#Sorry for popping off but that really upset me and I had to say something #I don’t usually speak up about things like this because so many cis people just can’t take a criticism to save their lives #Also I know some trans people WOULD find the things I mentioned fetishistic but that’s part of my point #Is that we all experience and feel different things and don’t all have the same beliefs #And implying it’s inherently fetishistic to be attracted to us harms way more trans people than not #Also transmeds and truscum please stay away from me you’re part of the problem 💜#Hope at least one cis person sees this and does some reflection #long post #text post #trans #transgender #transphobia #trans nsft #trans ally #trans discourse #trans men are men #trans women are women #enby #nonbinary #intersex #gender essentialism #bioessentialism #gender roles #gnc #gender nonconforming #rant #vent #nsft

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krbkss · 10 months

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mha 395

has anyone brought this up yet </3

#toga and the league are the dearest thing to me and i hate how it’s just words now #love togachako but also fuck all that shit ! she couldn’t live the way she wanted so she decided to have control on her death at least #dying the way she wanted. do you have any idea how dark and fucked up that. sacrificing herself for the only person who ever accepted her #because the world never did. i wanted so much better for her #except for the league who accepted her ofc but as i said they suddenly matter very little ? :/#like she was supposed to live for herself and for jin not do the same exact thing he did #i hope this isn’t the end but i also hope h*wks isn’t involved in giving her his blood n shit #they need to talk it’s about fckn time actually but he needs to stay 20 ft away from her #he can learn from his hero enji and from ochako NOT sacrifice himself or give blood and call it day. live and learn and atone and practice #self reflection for once #and toga’s FRIENDS can give her their blood. oh that would mean so much for her !!#anyways yeah i’m pointing and laughing at whoever yelled at people who understandably took what the last ch was building up to with a grain #of salt. see what happens? i thought we all knew by now that lesbians can’t have shit #but yeaaaa i want toga and the league friendship. please don’t let this be it i can’t believe mhui is the only thing feeding me rn #league of villains #my post #mha leaks #mha spoilers

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saetoru · 2 years

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hope you guys break up tbh lool

u have a very cruel heart tbh

#say what u want about me but #i would never want someone to break up w someone they love no matter how much i hate them #bc #that’s honestly rly painful and i think everyone should have at least that happiness #and i especially wouldn’t wish this to ppl on the internet who i know virtually nothing about on the personal level #u may think u have me figured out enough to form assumptions on my character to dislike me passionately #but rly u know nothing about me or anyone on here #so i highly encourage you to reflect on ur character before saying things like this to ppl bc #internet or not #u owe ppl compassion to some level as basic decency #that’s all i’ll leave it at but #i hope u have satisfied urself from hitting someone at a low point

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boyruggeroii · 10 months

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Oh boy

#fucked this one badly #over the span of five months #and I knew it come come #holy shit #I hope I haven't messed up too bad because I actually like this person #and it would be a pity if I had ruined what little friendship we have #but. mh. how can I say. it's completely on me #it's just that I don't know how much they'll care. like. I wouldn't care much but I would be a bit sad or confused at least #and think things that aren't true #but literally what explanation is there for I haven't contacted you in five months that doesn't sound #incredibly weak and stupid or doesn't sound exactly how it is. which does not reflect well on my interest at all #jesus #personal #I knew it was coming but I never know what to do to hang out with people #and sure now I'm thinking of stuff I could have sent. but writing hey I'm in this city actually and will be for the foreseeable #future fyi sounds deranged #I need to sound deranged more if that's what it takes. I really do #oh shit and I fucked up with her once already this year #fuck fuck fuck

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bloggirl8842 · 8 months

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Makes me so so sad that my first relationship was bad for me even though nothing explicitly bad happened. I see all these things about first loves or firsts in general and how fun it is but all I felt was obsessive, scared, confused, very rarely good. I only had fun when I was drunk (and he always made sure I was safe when I was drunk ofc) but the rest of it-- and even that-- was so tense and fraught, like trying to make unoiled gears turn

#i HATE that i now associate this w him because that was a friend and now i dont trust him in the slightest and i cant think of him too long #without developing all these unsubstantiated worries. i said i want to be friends again at some point but i really dont know if i can do it #i want to because i miss what was there before but like he as a person is now a trigger for me. its odd because we spoke once since the #breakup and it was good for me at least. it felt good. it felt relieving like having that friend back but if his absence inspires so much #worry (not worry for him but worry about him (who is he really? am i safe around him? is he safe around me? I don't feel safe)) then no.#i need so so so much time to even understand what happened and why it feels so bad and i need an ''after'' to play out to get a real #picture of who anybody involved actually is.#i dont trust him at all even though i want to. what sucks too is i have a great intuition around these things so i know intellectually ther #'s likely nothing that off about him but that he as he currently is is just very bad for me as i currently am. and vice versa. but that fee #like world ending panic if i think about it too much. god i cant wait for september to be over. if he brings up trying to be friends again #(which I hope he won't) I'll have to show him this or some other thing I've written during our time apart so he gets just how much time i #need bc in the moment ill be so relieved to be talking again that ill forget this feeling #we’re working on a show tgt about the devil and in those panic moments that triggers me a bit bc ive had sparse and easy to shut down but #still scary moments where i reflect on very very specific instances and think oh yeah the devil possessed him in that moment. and then im #like girl nooooo it fucking didnt what happened was actually [X] but the fact that my mind even goes there is INSANE #not unprecedented unfortunately. but insane. i was telling my mom some of these things and she was like ‘’that poor kid’’ and i was crying #like ‘’I KNOW he thought he got someone normal and he got ME’’#its so funny hes sad about the breakup in like a normal way meanwhile im like i dont care about the breakup but i think ive committed some #cardinal sins i think there is evil in the water and i may be exhibiting mild psychotic symptoms that ive been suppressing for many years.#i did really leave bc i was just not into it though #this is all like side effects. honestly issues ive been having for years and years but which were triggered and which id been suppressing #since like may/june #i just was not into it and i wanted to be but i wasnt and i got confused #this’ll be a fun memory that i sort of can’t talk about one day

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arolesbianism · 9 months

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If nothing else Im just begging dst to not do the easy but lame idea of adding the fleece of the lamb and making it increase follower time. I get it. It makes sense. It's simple to implement. But it's also boring and useless. In begging yall add a fleece that does smth cool

#rat rambles #my personal pick would be fleece of the fates but I think its also one of the least likely #Id have it basically give random buffs during combat while wearing it based on the different cotl cards #a fun lil gamble #I think more realistically theyd probably do the god of death fleece or like ssid above the default fleece #I could see them doing both tho #the god of death fleece would probably either do recoil damage to reflect the diseased hearts it gives you or have some gimic with killing #enemies like regaining durability on kills or gaining temporary buffs depending on ur dps or smth #like Id hope theyd try to make smth at least usable yknow? I rly dont care how faithful it is as long as I could reasonably use it #like the eyemask and eyesheild in dst are just the devs pulling shit out of their ass but they still have smth unique #and they can be worth using if you feel you can remember to feed them #theyre quite simple but still worth picking up yknow?#I feel like thats my bar with any hypothetical items from this colab too #just like. worth picking up even if it will kinda fall off late game.#that again assuming this colab will add new items but Im chosing to trust that it will

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hoshigray · 3 months

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𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~

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“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”

“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”

“They’re…still going at it.”

“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”

It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.

Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).

Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote.

Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now.

That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project.

“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”

Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.

Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off.

But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right?

“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!”

Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”

Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”

The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?”

Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”

Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”

Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.”

“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?”

“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”

“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment.

Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall.

You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment.

You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“

“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch.

Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”

“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh. God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…

“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off.

“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”

Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”

He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.”

You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.

You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”

“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress.

“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.

The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.

You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.

For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy.

Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat.

“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”

And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you.

One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face.

Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.

He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute.

And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him.

That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.

This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.

The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.

“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.”

It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”

You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe twenty minutes?”

“Just watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”

He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”

“What about your manga?”

“Got bored of that, too.”

“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”

“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”

Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at.

“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”

He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”

You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”

His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”

You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face.

“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”

He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”

The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again.

Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra.

You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly.

“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”

“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze.

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”

“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”

“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out.

With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”

You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”

Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air.

Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”

“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”

“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!

“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip.

“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…”

You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him.

Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more.

Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud.

Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more.

“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!”

But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.”

You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.”

“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”

“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts.

You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs.

You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on.

With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.

“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit.

Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second.

“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!

You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.

You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!”

He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough.

“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”

“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”

And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm.

Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.

When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly.

However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you.

He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?”

You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”

“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips.

As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you.

But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”

Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.

Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi.

You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”

“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders.

But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.

However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness.

The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two.

However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”

You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”

“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him.

Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.”

“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!”

The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”

But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.

You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”

Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.

None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other.

The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”

Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves.

You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.

The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”

You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”

You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”

“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you.

Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”

The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”

“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”

Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.

“And your point is?”

“Well, it seems — to me, at least — there might be something going on with you and Y/n?”

Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”

“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”

“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”

“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”

“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”

“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy.

“But it’s true!”

Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.

And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“

“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”

“So…Are you two….a thing?”

Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.

And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”

Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.

Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“

However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“

“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.

“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“

“SATORU GOJO!”

Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?

The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.

Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said.

Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you.

And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.

This was strike one.

He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.

Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“

“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”

“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.

Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“

“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.

No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two.

Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.

And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.

SLAP!

Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome.

Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.

“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”

He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.

Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him.

“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”

And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter.

The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry.

Oh, fuck.

He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living.

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.

All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.

He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

“What…the fuck…”

3K notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 15 days

Note

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

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raksh-writes · 1 year

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<beware, self reflection post incoming>

So. This year has been a tough one.

Feels like it has been tougher than all of those before, ngl, but it's hard to tell how much of it is skeved memory and how much just how strong those feelings are today. But it has been an awful year -- the first half was kind of alright, but the second? Yeah, everything went downhill there.

I slid into one of the worst depression holes ever. I quit my job two months ago, because it has been contributing strongly to that, but remained unemployed and stressed out of my mind because of that and feeling completely listless since. Unmoored. With no purpose whatsoever. It's... not a good place to be. On top of that, I got real sick with covid this week and barely started feeling somewhat better today. Guess it's a suficiently shitty end to an awful year, huh? What hurts, too, is the heart breaking writer's block I got in that second half of the year too.

I wrote barely anything this year, posted even less. Got very disconnected from that part of myself that carried me through the rough times of the previous years -- and maybe that's why it feels worse than ever now, when I had at least that joy back then but it feels like it's been taken from me. It's... rough.

I've always been in the middle of something before too. Always going back to classes, to uni, got a job last year, but now? Well...

I did start taking steps to crawl back to life. Trying to at least. Baby steps.

So, I wanna make a list of those baby steps. The ones Ive already started taking, the ones Im gonna soon, the ones I wanna try to make. Make a path out of them, maybe. So:

Im back to therapy, that's good. Working through new and old stuff, it's definitely helping, but... there's a lot more to work through than I imagined. It's okay, though. I can already tell some of it helped, it's been a good helping hand in digging myself out of this hole - or at least starting to dig myself out.

Im also starting an internship at the job office on monday (hopefully most of my symptoms are gonna be gone by then 🤞). It's a 6 months one, not as well paid as a full job, of course, but it's experience, it's a start, and I can always search for smth different in the meantime. And it's stability a dearly need.

I want to go back to studying too. I found I miss it a lot, having that goal, broadening my mind, etc. I wanna sign for some post-diploma library studies classes in the city where I intern, near where I live. It might not open up, but if it doesn’t, I think I'll try going back for actual Masters. It's something Im actually sort of looking forward too, even if it makes me a lil' anxious.

Been idly thinking about maybe going back to the city. Trying to live on my own again. Study, find a job to pay for it. Might not be quite possible, though, with prices of pretty much everything going up to 3x what they were and still going up. It's an idea for the later part of the year, though, if Id actually try going for it.

Maybe the most obvious one -- I want to write again. And post, too. I miss interacting with readers. Seeing that someone Gets it. That it brings people joy. I miss it a lot. These last months, even if I managed to write a little, I didn't even had the drive to post. No drive for anything, really. Feels like death to a creative soul 😔 So I want to write. And I want to share it. Im still thinking of my Beauty and the Beast Voiles AU -- I have a couple chapters of it done, maybe I could start posting and see where it goes, even if I dont manage to finish it? Then I got obsessed with VegasPete, an amazing ship I recommend to all that like Voiles or just enemies to lovers! I even managed to write some lil bits of them, some I Could post even, but I can’t get myself to... maybe it's a goal for the near future. To break through that block and engage with new fandom beyond just reading and commenting, but trying to contribute some of my own. It's scary, but it might do me good? It'd be nice..

I want to try and do more typesetting this year too, and properly, since Ive been thinking I could maybe do it part time in the future, do a project here and there, but for that I'd have to polish up my skills. Maybe do some smaller projects, that wont take me months to finish like the fics I did lately.

Have my eyes peeled for opportunities and have the courage to reach for them. I want to do library studies and Id love to work in a library one day, but its hard to get into one, so I gotta have my eyes open for any possibility. Or working in a book store, Id love that too. Anything with books, tbh. So, be on the look out. And work on having the courage to reach for it and battling down my anxiety.

Go out and meet with friends I haven't seen in a long time. I think Ive isolated myself a bit too much this year and it definitely hasn’t helped. So I need to try more to get out of the easy, lazy way and go out to meet people.

And that's it, for now, I think. Goals for the new year? Maybe, but being in the place I am, baby steps feel better. Im sure Im not the only one that had an awful year and if you're reading this, feeling the same, I see you. Can’t promise it's gonna get better, but we gotta have hope and try taking those baby steps towards making it better. So, Im not gonna go into elaborate wishes, Im just gonna be simple.

I wish you all good health, because it's so important and yet we don’t appreciate it enough, and also wish all of us courage, especially those struggling. To reach for what we want. To reach for what we fear. To get out of our comfort zones, one baby step at a time. To put ourselves out there. To win over our anxieties. To live.

Im slowly, very slowly, trying to take those baby steps. To crawl back to life. It's hard. And slow. But I hope it's gonna be worth it. It's gotta be better than the misery of last months. So, that's what I hope for in the next year. Taking the baby steps to a better future.

Happy New Year, everyone, and I hope y'all have a lovely last day of 2022 💗

#personal #Raksh posts #encouragement #I think there’s some here #but this is a very personal post #self reflection #baby steps #note to self #putting it all in writing in hopes it'll help me follow them or somethinf #Im still feeling quite sick and the worst is I have no appetite and everything sticks inside my mouth #so Im probably not eating that well and that's not helping 😔#but Im trying what I can get myself to swallow and hopefully that'll be enough #Im also thinking of maybe trying to post that one patt of the fic I managed to write down a couple months ago?#I meant to only do it when I finish the second part but since Im stuck in this limbo maybe it'd actually help?#its scary and it might actually not gain any reaction and maybe today its not a good day for it but #maybe for me it would be #to finish the year on at least one happier note in this depressing day #Ive been thinking smth similar for weeks with posting that one part and didnt find it in myself #but maybe I should push and try and it'd be nice...#this post is probably full of typos too but I have no energy to reread it too closely sorry #its mostly for myself anyway #but if any of you read all the way through to here -- thank you 💗 and I wish you all the best for the new year 💗💗

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safetypinxtales · 5 months

Text

Lonely with you | Azriel

summary: it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely.

words: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, feelings of loneliness, thirsting over our boy az and his thighs, kind of just a drawn out drabble, some angst, generally just softness, Azriel with a book needs a warning in and of itself, very slight jealousy, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, PINING

notes: haven't written in years, and never befor for Azriel, or anyone from acotar, so bare with me. Not sure what I think of this, nor what the future might hold, but I had some time off uni and this idea that I just couldn't seem to get out of my head. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

part 2

You knew what picture was waiting for you in the living room of the House before you even rounded that corner. The distinct sound of pages turning, the hint of whiskey in the air, and him.

That scent that was just so distinctly Azriel it almost made you forget that echoing emptiness in your chest.

The sight that greeted you as you entered the room belonged in a museum, or at the very least at the front of some Day Court scribe’s lecture hall, being studied by the brightest minds in Prythian. You wanted to commission Feyre to paint it from your memories so it could be immortalized, even if just for your eyes. Because by the Gods, it was mesmerizing.

Azriel sat – no, sprawled across one of the couches, those thick, muscled, sweatpant-clad thighs so deliciously, invitingly, teasingly spread apart. The book in his hand was not one you recognized, but then his taste in literature was slightly more… sophisticated than yours. But that just made it all so much more enticing didn’t it? The thought of this gorgeously dark, winged male consuming deep, meaningful art? It would make any sane person fall to their knees.

The hazel of his eyes didn’t show any sign of surprise as his gaze met yours. He knew you were coming, most likely courtesy of the shadows leisurely curling around his shoulders. Cauldron, was he a sight…

… And your friend. Unfortunately.

“Are you just going to stand there all night or will you eventually move?” Right, right. How long had your feet been rooted to the floor? Judging by the humorous tone of his voice and that boyish sparkle in his eyes, probably a tad too long.

Forcing your body to take a step, and another, you tried to think of something – anything to say.

“Sorry, I–... I just didn’t expect you to be here is all,” liar, “I guess you caught me by surprise”. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world, but with the situation at hand it could have been a lot worse. Like, a lot. Besides, it’s not like you could have told him the truth.

Sorry Azriel, it’s just that I have been desperately yearning for you for the last couple of years and seeing you like this, looking all boyfriend-y, has me nearly swallowing my own tongue because of how perfect you look. I am just humiliatingly obsessed with every single little thing you do, as well as horrifyingly lonely to a default. In a non creepy way, of course.

… You would rather free-dive off the dining room balcony before ever admitting that to him.

His brows furrowed as he observed you, like he could see the lie written across your face, before humming lightly, almost as to himself. He reached a hand out to the glass resting on the coffee table and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid inside. Your eyes were trained on his mouth as he lowered the glass. Trained on the candlelight reflected in the alcohol wetting his lips. Those shiny, pouty, full–

His tongue slipped out and delicately swiped across his lower lip, licking off the remnants of the whiskey from the glass in his hand, and it took everything in you to not whimper at the sight.

Cauldron boil you.

Needing something to ground yourself, you made your way over to pour yourself a glass of whatever Azriel was drinking and collapsed beside him on the couch, trying to roll that stubborn stiffness out of your shoulders.

”Can’t sleep either?” He asked you on a slight chuckle.

“No, not with them going at it like bunnies,” you sighed, “how is it even possible for Cassian to… you know? I mean, not only is it day after day, but all night, non-stop? You need– I mean not you specifically, I don’t know anything about your sexual habits, just– just males in general,” oh Gods, “you– you need to rest, at some point – right?”

Azriel took in your flustered state, and pursed his lips as if to keep from laughing. His amusement did not help your case at all, only making the heat crawl further up your neck, your ears positively aflame.

“I guess the mating bond has its perks,” he surmised, and you couldn’t escape the huff that exited your nose.

That damned mating bond. The very one the Mother seemed to be handing out left to right lately, to everyone except you. And Azriel. But unlike you, he was a damn catch and could have anyone he’d like.

“Am I an absolute wench for being jealous of Nesta? And Elain? And Feyre?” You whined as you threw your head back on the couch.

“Not at all,” Azriel’s raspy voice comforted you, easing the tightness in your stomach. You still felt like one though; Nesta was your best friend and you were happy for her, but still–

“It’s just so unfair! They were born like, yesterday! I have been suffering through a mostly miserable existence for over five centuries now and I have never even come close to a connection like they have,” you rolled your neck, “I am over the moon for them, don’t get me wrong, and I hate to make their happiness about me–“

“But being alone around people who… aren’t, can be very lonely,” Azriel finished and your heart clenched as you looked at him. Beautiful, kind, caring Azriel. One of your best friends, and the male you were hopelessly, devastatingly in love with.

Knowing he, too, was hurting was painful in itself, but also slightly comforting. Knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness.

“You’re in pain,” he mumbled, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t really a question was it? “Your shoulders,” he noted, “they’re tense.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really. Nothing to worry about, just a small kink,” you tried to brush it off, but he looked at you with such intensity it made your whole body tingle.

“No it’s not,” it was like he could see right through you, “No, you have been worrying your neck ever since you sat down.” He pondered a moment before he sat up a little straighter beckoning for you to move closer. “Come on, let me help you with that.”

Your mouth fell open.

Was he insinuating he wanted to rub your back? Your half naked, barely-nightgown-clad back. With his hands. Those magical, beautiful hands. Oh Gods.

Your attempt of a protest died in your throat at the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was not to argue with.

He marked the page he was on and placed his book down on the table in front of you, his eyes not straying from you once. Like he was afraid you would bolt if he looked away, even just for a second.

In his defense, you very well might have.

A shaky breath released from your lungs as you put your glass down and readjusted your position on the couch until you were situated between his legs. With your back facing him, you carefully pulled your hair over one shoulder to give him better access, trying to block out the thoughts of how incredibly warm those bite-able thighs of his were.

The warm calluses of his hands on your skin set you ablaze, and as he carefully started to massage out the knots in your upper back you swore you could have melted, then and there.

You couldn’t help leaning in to his skillful touch. You also couldn’t help the breathy groan that escaped you as he started to work on a particularly tense area.

Or how your heart rate picked up as you heard what you swore was Azriel’s breath hitching in response.

You basked in the intimacy of the moment, fully enjoying all of his undivided attention.

The gesture, the moment, it all felt so domestic and comforting that the constant emptiness in your chest started to close over. Even if just for now. Even if it was all borrowed; a lovely, elusive fantasy – you let yourself feel whole.

You barely registered his hands slowing to a stop, or the new found looseness in your shoulders. Barely registered as his hands slid down your arms and slowly tugged you back towards his chest.

Not until you were engulfed in his warmth, his arms wrapped around you did you realize how well you fit together.

Like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Be lonely with me tonight,” his breath tickled your ear, “please.”

You knew it probably wasn’t wise. That tomorrow, when all of this would be gone, the hurt would resurface. The loneliness even heavier than before. But you couldn’t get yourself to care. To tell him no. Tell yourself no.

Instead you burrowed deeper in his embrace, closed your eyes, and even if just for tonight, you let his warmth fill the void in your chest.

Until that void had been replaced by a vibrating, golden, glow.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #lonely with you

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