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#drin k
calware · 7 months
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dirkjake is like sometimes i feel like you're the only one who knows me. i think you know me better than i want to know myself. i can't bear to be around you. i would die for you because there is no living without you. i want to perform an autopsy on you and dissect you from the inside out. i don't want you to ever look at me again. the world is too terrifying to bear unless i'm with you. the thought of loving you is the scariest thing i've ever known. i hope you kill me. i love you. my battery is low and it's getting dark. there is no sign of land. i hope you die i hope we both die
jakehal is like i have no idea how these two got together but it nuked the entire friend group in the process. 8 dead 24 injured. and it's objectively the funniest pairing out there
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servobotz · 11 months
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some random pics cause chowder aged up :D
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stonedbaaabe · 3 months
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Walking is overrated tbh, you should have more 😈
Truuuue
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oathofkaslana · 18 days
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btw that post w the cat lying face down was born from me reading through albedo's character stories and that line that was like "sm sm most of his energy would be allocated to cleaning up klee's messes instead [of his work]"
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fstbmp-a · 1 year
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@timelocker​ sent:
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" TAXES !!!!!!! "
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“TH’ FUCK DOES TH--” He’s gotten sucker-punched. 
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mabelsguidetolife · 2 years
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i want to play bideo game on ps4 but it barely works anymore…..
i still have my switch but i don’t have as many games on there
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dvdnvk · 1 year
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the gang goes west
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Hach ihr zwei
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roulettedares · 1 year
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i need to make ceramics or else
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clown4cowboy · 1 year
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attacking and killing and biting everyone who comes into my workplace today
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i need a better drawing device...my ipad is way too laggy and today it just shut down after i pressed save and when i came back...all progress gone. i was only drawing for 30 mins but...it sucks.
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jujutsutrash · 6 months
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gimme danger. 01
modern!AU set in my Devilock AU thing, same as my other Geto fic. I wanted this to be shorter, oh well. The return of bartender Geto. Summary. Suguru is a bartender with things in his past he’d rather keep hidden. But then you come along, his favorite patron, always smiling, always joking, always flirting with him. Now he can feel his heart melting, and that doesn’t bode well for his original plan. Pairing: Geto x reader Word count: 6.2 k Warning: alcohol consumption, a mention of murder and jail time
The heavy droning noises of the bass coming from the stage at the back of the bar felt like something meditative to Suguru’s ears. Or they would, if not for the harsh drums and hoarse voice of the singer overlaid on top. When he had just started working at the Devilock, the live music days were the ones he hated the most. They always felt too loud, too intense, too much.
Suguru was a man accustomed to moderate noise. Controlled chaos. So getting used to the loud bands on stage twice a week was not an easy task. He was sure he was getting hearing damage because of that. But now, now he didn’t really care. A part of him actually enjoyed it - there was a communal experience in seeing live music that had been missing from his life for a while. Even if he was still getting hearing damage.
At least he liked the band playing today. And since it was a weekday show, the house wasn’t full. Without a crowd, he was free to work without hush, and he didn’t need to be constantly on the lookout for trouble. Still, his eyes scanned the surroundings of the bar every so often, out of sheer habit. Though, this time, instead of spotting trouble, he spotted you.
He could say you were a kind of trouble for him, but he didn’t want to recognize that right now.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite patron,” Suguru said in a laugh, finishing cleaning the glasses as you sat on one of the stalls at the bar counter.
“I could bet you say that to any pretty woman that shows up, Suguru,” you respond with a teasing smile, leaning forward, arms resting on the counter.
“Nah,” Suguru shakes his head, giving you a playful look of his own, “you’re special. The usual?”
He asks, and you nod in response, watching as he starts gathering the bottles to prepare the drink. As Suguru gets busy making your cocktail, you feel your eyes taking the chance to drink in his form. You swore you tried to keep your interest controlled and respectful - this was his place of work, after all - but you just couldn’t help but stare. At least a little.
Honestly, it was a crime how handsome this man was. His pale skin reflected the warm glow of the bar lights beautifully, long silky black hair tied in a messy bun. The metallic rings on his deft fingers shine as he works, large hands looking so enticing. He was stupidly hot, and you had to catch yourself before you started drooling at the sight.
“Is it Choso’s band tonight? Thought it was supposed to be another one,” you ask, looking at the band on the stage, trying to keep yourself from staring too much. 
“It was,” he responds, and his husky tone make you turn back to the bar, eyes roaming his handsome face and finding the most enticing part, that goddamn tongue piercing. “But they bailed. Choso took the last minute opening.”
“Showing up on short notice? Talk about hard work.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s a guy you can count on,” he nods, closing the shaker in his hands before he started mixing the drink. “Guy was always the reliable type, even when he was younger,” Suguru adds with a nod and a chuckle, brown eyes looking at the stage with a soft gaze.
“Wait, you never told me you knew him before you came to the bar.”
“Huh? It’s not that important,” he shrugs, opening the shaker and pouring the drink on the glass.
“Oh, sure, sure. There you go, playing up that mysterious air again,” you comment with a chuckle, watching as he finishes the drink.
“Mysterious? Me? Not at all,” Suguru shakes his head and smiles, large hand sliding your drink forward so it sits right before you. “There you go, New York Sour.”
“Come on, Suguru. You got that mysterious, cool bad boy vibe going,” you tease, not resisting the urge to shoot him a flirtatious smile. “I’m pretty sure you do that on purpose.”
Suguru laughs at your words, turning his head down to the sink as he cleans his shaker, hoping that the dim light of the bar won’t show the redness he can feel rising to his face. It wasn’t the first time you’d flirted with him - and knowing your personality, it wouldn’t be the last. But you were gorgeous, and he was still just a man, flesh and blood, of course your flirting would affect him.
With a chuckle, he looks back up, eyes glancing at you just as you brought the drink to your lips. A drop of the red wine on the top of the cocktail slips down your plump bottom lip, trailing down the curve until just above your chin, before you swipe it with a thumb. Shit, he was staring.
“Mysterious, cool bad boy? I think you are mistaking me for the manager,” he laughs.
“Well, I could say you two are quite a pair. Don’t tell Aki though, but I think you are the more handsome one.”
You give him a teasing smile and Suguru shivers. You’d made that same comment when he first met you, with the same damn smile as he looked on from his side of the bar. The only thing that changed was that he was even weaker to it now. If you knew how bad you affected him, you wouldn’t find him cool at all.
But he tries to keep his composure, adamant not to let you notice how warm his face felt right now. Your flirting was nice, a fun distraction from his boring routine, but not much more than that. It couldn’t move past just fun. He knew it. But damn, you were tempting, and it was entertaining. Some days he ignored your flirting, but on others he let himself play this game. Just a little fun, no harm playing along for one night or another.
“When you talk like this, you make the bar seem like a shady place full of dangerous types,” he laughs lowly, looking at you from under heavy lashes.
“Only the cute ones,” you chuckle and wink as you bring the glass to your lips again, making Suguru smile and shake his head.
“The cute ones are still dangerous, doll, that’s a dumb game. Maybe you should find someone nice to flirt with for a change.”
Suguru smirks teasingly, but deep inside he knows he is only half joking. As much as he enjoys the attention you give him, there is still a guilt that settles deep inside his stomach every time he plays along. And yet, he can’t resist you, so he lets you do as you like, even if it tortures him.
“Ouch, you are rejecting my flirting,” you give a mocking cry, bringing one hand to your heart theatrically as the other holds your glass.
“Oh, the drama,” he rolls his eyes and mutters, only barely audible above the heavy music.
“But hey, I can take care of myself,” you look at him with a frown, eyebrows drawn together. Sure, he believes in you, but there is a limit to everything, and it’s always better to be safe than sorry. “And I don’t think anyone who calls themselves ‘nice’ would want to be around a girl who likes getting drunk and screaming punk songs on a week night,” you point out with a nonchalant shrug.
“I see your point,” he responds with a laugh, putting away the bottles and tools.
“Besides,” you pause, sipping from your drink as your eyes follow his movements, “I think you are plenty of nice.”
“Huh?” Suguru looks back, just in time to see you shrug again, as if waving away his protest. “You said yourself, mysterious cool bad boy type.”
Shaking his head, Suguru repeats your words with a laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He tries to busy himself with something, anything, but he can hear your chuckles from behind your glass. They sound soft, and god, it’s always the softness that breaks him. Against his better judgment, he looks up again, finding you leaning on the counter, propping your head in one hand, a genuine smile painted on your face.
“Suguru, I’ve seen how you treat the drunk college kids, and the barbacks too. Even that weird blond kid who attracts trouble. You are just so kind, way nicer than most ‘nice people’ I’ve met.”
Suguru stops for a moment, breath frozen in his lungs as he gets lost in your sweet smile. Blinking twice, he swallows hard, looking to the side with a choked laugh. He still isn’t quite so used to compliments. And he feels he doesn’t deserve them right now - like there was still more he needed to do to conquer that right.
“You give me too much credit,” he laughs, hands anxiously reaching to adjust the sleeves of his shirt as he feels the fabric bunching closer to his elbows, his eyes avert you for a second before he looks up again and smirks. “Or maybe you are just into the bad boy types, so you can’t see the red flags.”
It’s your time to laugh and shake your head at him, your soft smile shifting into a playful one. You sip from your glass again, and Suguru can’t help the way his eyes trail towards your lips.
“Maybe, but most nice, upstanding people are boring judgmental assholes anyway. So I might just like people who enjoy living life a little rowdy, a little strange,” you pause and shrug, looking at him through your eyelashes as you sip from your drink. “And you know, maybe you just don’t give yourself enough credit.”
Suguru laughs as he looks at you, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as the other fidgets with the mixing spoon. For a moment, he considers that maybe you could as well be right? That’s the same thing both his manager and his boss keep on repeating to him every so often. But what if you are wrong?
“Well, you are right on the boring, judgmental assholes thing, I know that for a fact,” he tips his head from side to side, a smirk on his face as he watches you drink before his eyes cast down to his hands. “But still, I wouldn’t be calling myself nice, I just try to treat people with kindness. I have,” he pauses for a beat and chuckles, but even he can tell it sounds sad, “lived enough shit to know that life ain’t easy. So I try not to make it harder.”
Suguru looks up again and finds your eyes on his. There is a pause for a second, and it seems almost quiet, despite the loud music in the bar. Your gaze holds him strong, and Suguru just shrugs, trying to shake off the sensation of being under the spotlight. He could have sworn someone turned out the air-conditioning in the bar because suddenly he feels sweat running down his neck.
“Suguru,” you giggle, as if baffled by his words, and it feels stupid how much he likes the sound of his name on your voice, “you know that already makes you a good person, right?” You pause, looking at him like he is a mad man and, god, he is blushing again. “Better than most. Besides, yeah, some of us go through rough lives, but that happens. I’m pretty sure that if you ever had a mean bone in your body, it’s broken by now.”
And there it is again, that beautiful smile of yours. The one that disarms him every time. Suguru had gotten good at keeping people away, for his own comfort. There were things about his past that he knew he’d be judged for - and rightfully so. Things he didn’t want to explain. Things he regretted having done. So it was best keeping people away. Better to stave off loneliness than to have a tough conversation.
But god, you’d found your way under his skin, and now he could feel the creeping loneliness that he’d been ignoring for a while.
“Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, doll.”
You watch him chuckle as he starts to speak, a warm smile tugging at his lips, voice softening ever so slightly. If you weren’t paying attention, you might not even notice the way his eyes linger solemnly on his work bench before they shift back to you, moving up slowly as if dragging a weight.  It’s all gorgeous and serene - almost too much for the place you are in - but something in that feels painfully vulnerable too.
“Oh, is the bad boy softening up on me?” 
You tease him with a laugh, trying to break the tension that you can almost feel emanating from his shoulders. Suguru had always kept you at an arms length - which Aki had once noted was less than he kept most people, and the only ones in the bar he knew who could get closer than this were himself and the owner. Though, the distance meant you knew close to nothing about him, and you could only imagine what went on in his head. If you had known he’d tense up like this, you’d have changed the conversation a while back.
Still, you couldn’t deny there was something weirdly attractive in how mysterious he could be.
“But for real, I like this weird ass bar, even the times when I find the manager beating someone up when I go outside,” I continue, chuckling as I turn my gaze back to Aki on his corner of the counter, Suguru’s eyes following my own with a smile. “The Devilock may be a shady house of misfits, but it’s my favorite one.”
Suguru laughs, a husky, hearty sound that feels nice and light on your ears. You see the way his broad shoulders shake, catching a glimpse of that tongue piercing reflecting the light when he opens his mouth. It’s a nice sight. It warms you more than the alcohol in your cocktail as you finish it.
“I mean, you can’t say this place doesn’t have personality. Never a dull night,” he says with a playful smile.
“Anyway,” you giggle, lifting your empty glass and trying not to smile like a little girl at how handsome he looks, “can I ask for another drink?”
“I’d find it strange if you didn’t,” he leans in closer, still smiling as he takes the glass from your hands, fingers brushing gently against yours before he moves away. “Same thing?”
“Nah, bring me something different. Whatever you recommend, just make it strong.”
You smirk and wiggle your eyebrows, and Suguru laughs again, brown eyes shining under the bar lights. If he won’t give you the space to truly understand what’s going on in his head, at least he gives you the space to make him laugh. And when he has such a beautiful laugh, that’s already good enough.
“Oh my, let me see,” he pauses for a moment to think, hand reaching for his shaker again. “I can make you the Devilock Bomb. It earns its name, been a while since I got to make it,” he leans his weight on his work station as he looks at you, inquisitive eyes almost making you shiver, that teasing smile not leaving his face.
“Bring it up!”
You lean on the counter as you respond, watching him as he goes about gathering what he needs. With the black clothes he wears, Suguru almost blends into the background of the dark bar. But his pale skin reflects a contrast that draws your eye to the shape of his face, his large and strong hands, the almost hypnotic way they move. It’s like magic, and you are lucky you catch yourself staring before he turns around again. 
There are a couple minutes of silence between the two of you as you cast your eyes to the stage - trying to busy yourself with anything so you wouldn’t stare at him too much. When you turn back again, you catch him finishing your drink, a soft smile on his lips as he puts the blueberry garnish on your glass. Shit, you had forgotten how much that one looked like a godforsaken chemical weapon.
“And here you go,” Suguru smirks, catching the slight twitch in your eye and laughing.
“Thank you. Haven’t seen this weird thing in a good while, was it always so damn purple?” You ask with a laugh and Suguru shrugs, laughing along as you take the glass to your lips, taking a long sip. “Oh yes, the sweet burn of alcohol.”
Suguru’s eyes widen slightly, and then you drink again, gulping the purple monstrosity. Now he is left wondering if you just don’t have taste buds, and worried about you getting too drunk, too soon. Last thing he wants is to have to threaten someone with a knife again.
“Hey, careful there, it’s way stronger than you think.”
“Alright, alright there, officer, it’s not my fault it’s so tasty, blame the bartender,” you chuckle, lips still touching the rim of the glass with a teasing smile, then you take another sip, a smaller one at least. “You look cute when you are concerned.”
“Yeah, smartass, you just watch yourself,” Suguru laughs, trying to hide the burn in his face as he watches you eat one of the blueberries from the wooden pick.
“Shall do, shall do, last thing I want is to piss you off. What if you decide to start making me mocktails?” 
You respond with a chuckle, but he still notices you’ve already managed to down your drink halfway. When Suguru first tried that thing, he was pretty sure it tasted like a gut punch, with a smudge of blueberry. A purple tinted act of violence, but you don’t even seem to care. Maybe you were stronger than he took you for.
“With the speed you drink, I should start thinking about watering down your stuff,” he shakes his head with a smile.
“Now, now, Suguru, that would be just cruel,” you pout and bring your glass closer to yourself, as if protecting it from him.
“I warned you I’m not a nice person,” he laughs, watching you roll your eyes as you drink.
He watches you for a minute, lost in the way the lights reflect in your eyes as you watch the stage. He has to try hard not to stare when your tongue pulls the second blueberry off of the pick - and he has to try even harder to ignore the tightness in his pants at the sight. You say something with a laugh, and Suguru just laughs along, too busy thinking about things he shouldn’t to actually hear what you said.
You turn back to him with a warm smile, holding the glass to your lips, and it’s like everything else goes silent. Suguru is pretty sure he could stare at you for an eternity. But just then someone else shows up to the counter with a request, and he is fast reminded that no matter how slow the night, he has a job to do.
And as he goes back to his duties, you finish your drink, sliding the glass back and waving. You motion to the space before the stage and tell him you are going to check the band. He just nods and smiles, looking up from the drink he is making to joke about how you can’t leave the bar before your third cocktail, so you have to come back to the counter later.
A few minutes go by and he is free again, the movement at the counter slowing down enough that out of the three bartenders, only one is working. Suguru relaxes, leaning on the cabinet at the back of the bar for a moment before his eyes scan the crowd, spotting you with ease. That’s when he hears a snicker from his side. Looking from the corner of his eyes, Suguru sees his manager, the usual scowl replaced with a mocking smirk.
“She got you that bad, huh?”
“You seeing things, Aki,” Suguru responds, not even looking in the direction of the shorter man as he hears another snicker and a laugh.
“Yeah, and you aren’t smiling,” Aki shoots back with a malicious smirk, voice almost sounding like poison.
Suguru feels himself fighting whatever power has been tugging his lips upwards since he spotted you again, the smile having slipped its way to his face without him knowing. There is a moment of pause as he gathers himself, fingers tapping his metallic rings to the wooden cabinet anxiously. He finally glances back to his manager - and if he was honest, by this point, friend - with a scowl. 
“Fuck off,” it’s weak, he knows that, but it’s all he can muster now.
“Either stop smiling like an idiot or just give it a damn chance and I will.”
Aki shrugs nonchalantly, and Suguru watches as his pale hands pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. The man says that like it’s easy, to Suguru it sounds almost insane. Though, he knows Aki is pretty damn sane and well aware of what he is saying. The man is one of the only two people in the bar who know about his past, the other is the owner - they had to know, they hired him. And while it wasn’t by choice, it felt good not having to hide his past, at least from a couple of people.
Which is what made the implied seriousness in Aki’s nonchalant tone sound even more insane to Suguru.
“A chance?” The question comes low, almost choked in his voice as Suguru’s hands reach to tug on his sleeves, pulling them down to his hands, as if the poor fabric were to blame for his past. “And how well do you think that would work?”
“Maybe about as well as this job has been working for ya,” the man shrugs again, eyes meeting Suguru’s. “You won’t know unless you try. Anyway, I’m going on my smoke break,” he adds, already walking away, leaving the counter and heading to the back door.
“Fuck, right when I needed a smoke,” Suguru retorts with a groan.
“Not my problem, save it for later.”
Suguru watches Aki disappear through the door that leads to the narrow alleyway behind the bar. Yeah, sure, the guy with a long term girlfriend butting into his non-existent love life. If only things were that easy. Dragging a hand over his face, Suguru sighs. He needs a breather now, way too many thoughts swimming in his head.
With a nod and a call to one of the barbacks, he heads to the employee bathroom, his hands gripping the handle too tight when he closes the door. Fuck, it’s bad enough being aware of how shitty his situation is. It’s worse that there is still a part of him that wants to believe there is hope. Foolish, you are successful and beautiful, and pleasant to be around too. Way above the league of a guy who’d just spend most of the last decade in a jail cell.
Turning on the faucet, Suguru washes his face, the cold water doing very little to pull him out of his thoughts. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, a dark, judgmental gaze meeting him. How long has it been already? Almost two years since he was set free. Sometimes it feels like more, sometimes like less. On some days, he can pretend it never happened. Pretend he lies on the floor when sleep evades him because he chooses it, not because he is used to sleeping on hard surfaces.
But that’s not the truth, and the reflection in the mirror knows it too. The truth is engraved on his skin - like a book telling the story of his life choices. The dark eyes in the mirror glance at his sleeves and Suguru pulls one up, dragging it above his elbow, fabric bunching around his bicep and revealing the tattoos wrapping his arm. It’s just a small piece of a much larger thing, a colorful reminder of his time in the yakuza. It’s funny how they barely even faded - you don’t get much sun time in jail.
And yet, even before the physical representation of why this wouldn’t work, he can still feel a piece of his heart that wants to hold out hope. What a fucking foolish thought. To have a heart that still holds out hope for love when between him and any type of relationship is a conversation about how he did eight years of jail time for gang related murder. And Suguru should count himself lucky it was only eight, if they’d found evidence of the other crimes he’d still be rotting behind bars.
No use thinking about that now. Like the monk who used to council on his cell block always said, no use being hung up on what you can’t change.
Sighing, Suguru pulls the sleeve down with a forceful tug. He splashes water on his face again, hoping it will do something - anything - to get him out of his head. Whatever, he has to work anyway. He closes the faucet and gives his reflection one last look. This time, the eyes that look back at him are soft and tired.
He returns to his position and the night moves as usual. There is music, there are drinks, and there is a troublesome patron getting aggressively chastised by an angry manager. The usual. Which is good, it’s routine, and Suguru likes routines - life behind bars is just a long continuous routine. It calms him down enough to get him out of his head.
Every now and then, his eyes fall back to you, either on the crowd or when you come to the counter to get a beer. It’s at the last music of the band’s set that you come back and sit down again, laughing about something as you call for him. You tell him you are taking that third cocktail, that it’s your time to go. You look only slightly tipsy, so he doesn’t worry about it.
Suguru smiles and makes you something light when you tell him to pick the drink himself. You joke, you laugh, you flirt with him - and that too is routine, at least when it comes to you, and despite all the warning signs in his head, he enjoys it. He tries not to think too much on that, he tells himself to live in the now - just like that monk used to say too. When you finish your drink, you slide the glass back to him, your fingers brushing his when he picks it up.
“Well, it’s my time to go, Suguru,” you say with a pout, it betrays your lightly tipsy state, but it’s cute. “Thanks for everything, it was nice seeing you again, as always.”
You climb out of the stool as you speak, smiling at him as you lean into the counter for a second. He hesitates for a half moment before putting his things away and cleaning his hands quickly, readying himself to leave the counter. He’s gonna tell himself he is only doing this to make sure you are safe. Tell himself his next move is just because he worries, not because he likes your presence.
He knows it’s a lie.
“Oh, hey… I was actually going to take a smoke break,” he pauses, looking between you and his manager, who just nods in response. “Do you want me to accompany you out?”
Suguru tries to keep his cool - but from his side, he feels like he is begging. His hands tug his sleeves down back to his wrists, finger nervously pinching the fabric for a moment. Then he reaches for his pant’s pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, giving you his best casual smile. 
“Sure! I gotta call a cab anyway, the wait is always a hassle at this hour.”
You smile at him and something stirs in his stomach as you begin to walk to the door. But Suguru quickly pushes it down when he hears a recognizable laugh coming from behind him in the counter. He doesn’t even dignify a glance behind. With a head shake, Suguru is fast to leave, fingers pulling a lighter from his pocket as he makes his way after you through the people.
The night was cold when you two stepped outside, the chill air making Suguru suddenly aware of how late it was. The empty streets were silent, save for whatever little noise escaped the bar walls. Tugging on his sleeves, Suguru turned to look at you just in time to see you shiver. Part of him wanted to put his arm around your shoulders, share his body warmth with yours - but he quickly thought that would be pushing it.
You two stop a few steps away from the bar’s entrance, resting your backs against the cold concrete walls, a warm streetlamp lighting you both from above. Suguru can’t help but notice how, even in its weird yellow glow, you still looked pretty. Like a soft light in the gray night around.
“You know you don’t need to keep accompanying me when I leave, right?”
Away from the loud noise of the bar, your question comes in an almost whisper. You glance up at him with a soft smile for a second before looking down as you pull your phone up. Suguru shrugs as he takes a cigarette out of the pack, deft fingers holding it just above his lips as he speaks.
“Don’t want a repeat from that creep from a while ago. Dude was still hanging around the bar after you left,” his response comes in a low voice, almost a grunt, as he pulls up his lighter and takes a drag from his cigarette, there is a beat of silence before he blows out the smoke. “Besides, still had a smoke break.”
“He hasn’t shown up again, I think I’m safe,” you respond with a soft laugh, eyes cast to your phone, Suguru watching the curl of your lips intently as he takes another drag, smoke filling his lungs.
“Better safe than sorry,” he shoots back nonchalantly, exhaling the milky smoke as he speaks. “And you drank some tonight. Fuck, I have no idea how you didn’t get wasted with that purple monstrosity. Careful that it doesn’t bring you a hangover as revenge.”
You watch him smile, brown eyes looking into yours before they turn back to the night sky, his long fingers bringing the cigarette back to his lips. Sure, the smoke never really smells nice, but the way it makes his voice huskier makes up for it. You laugh at his words, turning your head to the side to face him as he closes his eyes. It’s rare to see him this up close, your gaze following the way his lips wrap around the cigarette before you will yourself to stop staring.
“Oh, still worried. So cute,” you chuckle and look up again, nudging him with your shoulder, a teasing smile on your lips as you catch him looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “Thanks Suguru, but I’m sure I’ll be fine… I think.”
He turns away from you to blow out the smoke, and you watch it dance around him before he turns his face to you again, his head resting against the wall in a position mirroring yours. Suguru rolls his eyes and huffs out a breath, staring directly into your own gaze for a moment. It feels almost like time is freezing, like he feels as pulled towards you as you do to him. You hear him grunt lowly, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t quite know what.
“I appreciate it,” you are the one to break the silence, “really.”
The gentle touch of your voice has his throat tightening, it pulls the air from his lungs for a second before breathing life into him again. Suguru can feel the warmth of your body as your shoulder presses against his arm, he can smell your sweet perfume, it’s almost overwhelming. And the worst part is that he feels caught in the undertow of your eyes, being pulled by a current he can’t fight against.
And now that he notices it, when did your faces start drifting closer?
“Just watching out for you,” he responds, voice coming softer than he imagined, like a whisper between you two. “Least I could do.”
You chuckle and Suguru shrugs, leaning into you subconsciously, eyes catching in the way your lips curl. You give him a warm smile, it’s inviting, flirtatious and sweet all at the same time. He wants to kiss you so badly. He knows he shouldn’t, but, fuck, he doesn’t remember wanting something so intensely since he got his freedom back.
“What a valiant knight,” you murmur back to him, moving closer, and now Suguru can even feel the warmth of your breath in the cold night.
His eyes move from your lips to your powerful gaze, the cigarette between his fingers long forgotten by now. You are so close, soft skin just within reach. Part of him wants to back off, mind screaming he shouldn’t be doing this. But another part reminds him that you two are so close now, it would be more awkward if he moved away. Besides, by this point, it’s not really like he has the strength to. So he leans in closer, nose almost brushing against yours.
It’s you who bridges the gap, braving those last few inches and touching your soft lips to his own. The kiss is warm and gentle at first, but it only takes a moment of your mouths touching for it to turn passionate. Suguru feels the cigarette slipping from his fingers to the floor, but he doesn’t mind, bringing his hand to hold your face as his tongue ventures into your mouth. 
You still taste of the damn Devilock Bomb - but he could acquire a taste for the purple monstrosity if he kept on finding it in your mouth. And it’s not like he can say anything when he is a smoker. But all thoughts vanish from his head when he feels your hands on his chest, fingers tugging the fabric of his shirt as you pull him in. The smell of your perfume, the wetness of your mouth, the feeling of your body. Suguru is pretty sure this is what nirvana must feel like.
The kiss feels almost infinite, his thumb caressing your face as your lips stay locked together for a moment that stretches into forever. But then it’s gone. Just as sudden as it came. And Suguru realizes that it was way too short, time slipping through his fingers like sand as your car arrives. You reluctantly let go of each other, sharing a last soft touch, his hands hesitating to let go when yours feel so good caressing his neck. But you have to leave.
Suguru watches you get into the car, making sure you are safe inside before he closes the door for you, giving the driver a stern look just to be safe. For a moment there, he regrets not having your number - just so he could be sure you’d arrive home safe, he tells himself. The car quickly leaves and he is alone again. Nothing but the empty night surrounding him.
Walking back, he puts his forehead to the wall, groaning in frustration as his hands come to his hair, tugging at the roots and messing it up. Shit, he really shouldn’t have done this. He fucked up, fucked up big time. So why the hell did it have to feel so damn good?
He is heaving, closing his eyes tight before opening them up again, gaze cast to the ground where he finds his dropped cigarette just by the tip of his boot. Suguru sighs, rubbing his face with one hand as he bends down and picks it up. His hands struggle with the cheap plastic lighter before he manages to get a flame going. He dusts off the cigarette, then puts it to his lips, lighting it up again.
Breathing in slowly, Suguru inhales the smoke, feeling it burn as it passes down his throat, the well-known sting a welcomed friend. Fuck, why did your lips have to taste so good? He knows damn well this can go nowhere and yet, here he is, a grown man with butterflies in his stomach. Breathing out the smoke, he groans, fingers tapping anxiously against the wall.
He can feel his body yearning for your touch again. Worse, he can feel his heart stuttering, as if it ever had any chance to begin with. The damn thing refuses to acknowledge the reality of its situation. Well, no use in thinking over what’s done now. So Suguru smokes away the rest of his break, and tries to put on his best normal face before going back in.
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blankberries · 3 months
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i drin k gaso line for f un
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alwaysklako · 3 months
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magst du noch frage 9 und 10 beantworten?
deine antworten fand ich richtig spannend zu lesen bisher :D <3
Aww ❤️ das freut mich, dass es noch nicht langweilig wird 🥹☺️ vielen Dank für die weiteren Fragen ❤️
9. What fic meant the most to you to write?
Da würde ich mich wohl für den Pakt entscheiden. Einfach weil da so viel Herzblut drin steckt, es mich immer wieder an meine Grenzen geführt hat und mir so einen besonderen, schicksalshaften Moment beschert hat, den ich bis heute kaum fassen kann. Deswegen bedeutet mir diese Geschichte schon mit am meisten in diesem Jahr ❤️
Und auch deswegen, weil einfach so viele Menschen mit dabei sind, die mich so sehr an ihren Gedanken dazu teilhaben lassen und der Austausch ist so wertvoll und besonders, auch deswegen hat der Pakt einen ganz besonderen Stellenwert. ❤️
10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?
Ich denke, hier würde ich mich für „Of Snow Flakes and Christmas Surprises“ entscheiden. Einfach, weil ich da alles an Fluff loswerden konnte, was sich das ganze Jahr so aufgestaut hat und ich habe wieder einmal festgestellt, wie viel Freude es mir bereitet und wie glücklich es mich macht, über schöne, herzerfüllende Momente zu schreiben als über schmerzhafte ❤️
Aus diesem Grund und auch, weil Geburtstags-Fics für @k-wie-kismet für mich immer besonders sind, hat mich auch „Home“ sehr glücklich gemacht ❤️
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Seven (and a half) Minutes in Heaven
It started, like most of their bad ideas did, with a note slipped under the door of their shared housing assignment. God he was so fucked.
Correction.
Mav was the one who was so fucked and by the rules of friendship, Goose was also in deep shit.
Links under the cut
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postsofbabel · 5 months
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