#soulmates i swear. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

70% of Tumblr users say the Dashboard is their favorite place to spend time online.

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months

Text

i’ve always loved the way you eat ; suguru geto

synopsis; suguru is a morning person. he likes the serenity of it all; the quiet of the early hours, the expensive feel of his coffee pot. more than anything, he likes bringing you breakfast in bed.

word count; 4.9k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, just comfy morning vibes, fluff fluff fluff!!, suguru being a good soon-to-be husband, lots of petnames, reader is whipped (and so am i) but suguru is even worse, i need him biblically.

a/n; this is my personal essay on why suguru geto is the perfect man and wife. bon appetit !!

something smells good.

as your eyelids flutter open, and you gradually slip out of sleep’s fuzzy embrace, you are engulfed by that one thought. that one sensation.

there’s a sweet fragrance in the air, an unnamed something you can’t place. a force of love.

soft sunrays flit in through the haphazardly closed window blinds of your bedroom, cascading across the floorboards and bouncing off the walls. splotches of sunshine envelop you in a hazy kind of glow; gentle and coaxing, stirring you awake. it feels good on your skin.

indulging in a few more slow blinks, you shift to lie on your back, halfheartedly attempting to chase the sleepiness away. tangled up in silken sheets and fluffy blankets, you stare at the ceiling — but even such a mundane task feels so nice. just wallowing in the tantalizing scent drifting through the bedroom, the flurry of little kisses that the sun smothers you with.

it’s still early, and you’re still sleepy. outside the walls of your apartment, the sun is rising to its feet, dyeing the world in warm colours; violets and blues melting into pinks and oranges, like an egg cracked open on the canvas of the sky. everything is quiet, not a sound to be heard except for the very distant chirping of cicadas from the trees outside your window. utter peace. like time isn’t even passing.

in the midst of such a precious moment, all you want is to laze around. it’s just that kind of pleasant, mellow morning; the kind that makes you wish the sun would never fully rise.

a satisfied little sigh slips from your lips. content to soak in the heavenly feeling until it passes, your eyes flutter shut — you’re just so sleepy, and the sun just feels so warm. soothing you, making it even harder to stay awake, cradling you in its hazy embrace. sunlit and saccharine.

with the morning fatigue clouding your senses, you don’t even notice the other presence in the room.

suguru smiles, from his spot by the door — leaning against the wall and gazing at your relaxed expression, an immense fondness reflected in his eyes. taking a moment to silently admire you.

you look so content. tangled up in blankets and pillows, with your limbs outstretched and starfished across the mattress. your hair is a little messy, and you’re drooling just a smidge, wearing his shirt; it’s a couple sizes too big for you, slipping off your shoulder and exposing your sunkissed skin. as suguru’s eyes trail over your features, the fond smile on his face only grows, shifting into something honeyed and giddy.

you’re perfect, he thinks. absolutely perfect.

a moment passes. then another. suguru continues to stare, as if trying to etch the image of you into his memory. trying to prolong the moment for as long as he can.

until, finally, he’s had his fill. simply admiring you from afar isn’t enough — he needs to see you up close, needs to hear the sleepy little tilt of your voice. so he opts to make his presence known, voice gravelly and sweet, echoing softly throughout the room.

“good morning, sweetheart.”

softly, your eyes flicker open. the familiar voice sends a tremor of something running through your chest — and suddenly, it feels as if some of the sleep clinging to your skin has been washed away. it’s a little easier to make yourself move, shifting to your side to get a better look at the source of the sound.

and the warmth that blossoms in your chest when your eyes meet suguru’s is almost overwhelming.

(god, he’s pretty.)

suguru looks perfect, in the morning. he looks like the rest of your life. hair a little messy, tied up into a lazy half-done bun, silky black strands cascading down his neck. and wearing a pair of comfy sweatpants that hang a little low on his hips, but no shirt — showing off the curve of his tiny waist, the slight twitch of his arms when he indulges in an idle stretch.

you try to restrain yourself from ogling his bare chest and arms too much, but it’s tough. frighteningly so. with the sunlight embracing his skin, muscles on full display, he looks a bit like a sculpture. a little too good to be real.

but he is. and he’s yours. and he’s smirking at you, lazily, affectionately — eyes half-lidded as he balances the tray that’s making the room smell so sweet. just standing there, looking so unfairly gorgeous. waiting for you to muster up the energy to respond to his greeting, more than happy to watch the way your eyes soften as they trail across his features in the meantime.

“morning,” is all you can rasp, eyes closing as your cheek sinks deeper into the mattress. a bit too tired to talk to him properly, and a bit too unguarded to look at him without feeling as if your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting.

you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.

suguru doesn’t seem to mind. he only chuckles, voice deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine. his lips quirk up into a smooth kind of smile, and he’s quick to make his way to your side; crouching down to meet you at eye level after placing the tray on the nightstand.

a hand comes to caress your cheek. the rough pads of his fingers smooth down your jaw, gentle and doting, as if coaxing you out of hiding. as if you’re made of porcelain. suguru always treats you like you’re fragile, like you’re the most precious thing he has.

(because you are, he thinks. more precious than the expensive vanilla extract he used to make the waffles on the tray, more precious than the diamond-clad ring he’s hidden away in a drawer of the guest room. more precious than anything this world has to offer.)

a blissful little sigh slips from your lips, as you nuzzle into his palm. suguru leans forward to smear a kiss against your forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on your skin.

the sensation strikes you as just a little heavenly. his touch is so tender, every caress so full of love. instinctual, the way his love bleeds into his touch, trickles down his veins to the tips of his fingers — smoothing along your skin. such a heavy thing, but he just makes it feel so light.

“still sleepy?” he hums, a little teasing. eyes crinkling, voice bordering on a coo.

and it’s infuriating. the amusement that flickers through his eyes, the way you can tell he’s itching to tease you for being so groggy and tired.

between the two of you, suguru’s always been the one to get out of bed first, to your grave annoyance. and he’s so smug about it. you want to tell him that waking up so early on a saturday isn’t normal, that he’s the weird one for not being sleepy —

but when he’s cupping your cheek so gently, all you manage is a meek little murmur of mm. one that has suguru stifling a coo, lips curling up into an adoring smile.

look at you. his sleepy little baby, dyed in sunrays and tiny specks of dust. so effortlessly pretty, tangled up in fluffy blankets, an image so precious he almost feels like he shouldn’t be looking at it. yet he continues to do so, mesmerized.

(suguru doesn’t mind being a little greedy, when it comes to you.)

“i made you breakfast,” he continues, as you melt into his touch. an absentminded action, but almost brimming with trust; the trust you have in him to treat you well. one he’ll always, always affirm. “your favorite. wanna eat with me?”

breakfast.

something in your brain visibly reacts to the sound of the word, shooing away a little of the morning fatigue still clouding your senses. before you know it, you’ve forced yourself into a sitting position, with groggy movements and a soft groan. rubbing the skin beneath your eyes and kicking the blanket off your legs, a little clumsily.

suguru breathes out a soft bout of laughter, low and amused, as you lazily stretch and indulge in slow blinks. his hand goes to ruffle your hair, and all you do is lean into it.

“i’ll take that as a yes,” he teases, eyes full of fondness. you crack a sleepy smile at his amused tone of voice.

suguru’s hands are big, and a little rough, but still so very soft. you could spend hours tracing them — from the tips of his fingers down to the veins of his wrist, across his knuckles littered with small scratches and barely visible scars. stories of his childhood, that he loves telling you about, almost as much as you love hearing them.

you love his hands. they’re so pretty. so warm and grounding, as they smooth down your hair, unmistakably caring. the weight of them is a comfort, as his fingers card through your bedhead, scratching softly at your scalp. a sensation that makes you feel all fuzzy inside.

suguru is just so good to you.

and you’re only further reminded of that fact when your gaze trails over to the assortment of breakfast foods he’s prepared, neatly stacked on the nightstand. all your favorites, made with so much love; and it’s so evident, even just in the presentation. the freshness of the strawberry slices, the perfect amount of syrup spread over the waffles. the cup of coffee made just the way you like it.

maybe it’s the morning fatigue, or just the softness of the moment. the intimacy, so palpable you can almost reach out and touch it. or maybe it’s something else entirely — whatever the cause, you feel your eyes get somewhat glassy.

a meek little sniffle leaves your lips, and it catches even you off guard.

suguru blinks. suddenly alert, his morning-fatigued brain trying to comprehend the sight of your teary eyes. brain spinning in circles, not sure if it should be telling him to panic just yet. something in him constricts, twists and turns, a desperate kind of yearning to protect you.

but before he can even reach out to wipe away the wetness with his thumb, you’ve latched yourself onto him.

arms snug around his waist, face tucked under his chin. fitting into him like a puzzle piece. breathing in the remnants of the cologne on his neck; a nice bergamot mix that you like, so he sprays on a little extra just for you. so close to him that you can feel the patter of his heart against you, as you soak in his body warmth.

and his arms find their way around your form just as naturally, without him even having to think. like every bone in his body was born with a desire to cradle you close. like he was crafted in the image of someone made to soothe you.

being in suguru’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.

”what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.

”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. ”you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”

a pause.

then, a chuckle bubbles up from suguru’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.

(you’re so ridiculous, he thinks.)

but you only nuzzle further into his neck, all sleepy and affectionate — and it stirs his heartstrings in a way that makes him feel rather helpless. crumbling beneath your touch. gazing at you with soft eyes, a happy little hum buzzing in his throat.

he takes you in, in all your clingy glory; so impossibly sweet. maybe he should have sprinkled some sugar on the strawberry slices, just to see if the taste could ever measure up.

”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. ”i’m sorry, baby. i should be the one saying that to you, though.”

but you just shake your head, arms tightening around his midriff. as if offended that he’d have the audacity to brush off your objectively correct statement, to even think to deny how perfect he is.

and suguru raises a brow at you, in tandem, a mild protest resting on the tip of his tongue — offended at your blatant disrespect, shaking your head at his factually correct words, as if disagreeing with your own evident perfection.

but before he can even begin to fight you on the topic, you part your lips to speak.

”thanks for breakfast, sugu,” you sleepily murmur, biting back a yawn. still a little meek, but oh so loving. ”i would die for you.”

he stills, once more. then another soft bout of laughter escapes his lungs, rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm. it makes you feel so terribly safe.

“there’s no need for that,” he assures you. ”don’t you wanna eat instead?”

to his surprise, he’s met with another soft shake of your head. so snug in his embrace that you could practically live there, only clinging to him a little tighter with a huff.

”just wanna hug you first…” you yawn, arms squeezing at his waist affectionately. shifting in his hold until your lips find their way to his neck.

”i love you,” you mumble, kissing down his jaw and collarbone. sleepy, open mouthed pecks, trailing over the expanse of his pretty skin. ”so much.”

it tickles, a little. suguru digs his teeth into his cheek, ever so slightly, just to hold back the giggle that threatens to break out from his throat.

and it’s maybe just a little too sweet, the sensation that blossoms in his chest, something honeyed and flowery; fluttering deep within his ribcage, like a dragonfly buzzing and trying to break free. it gets him a little weak in the knees.

to distract himself from the voice in his head urging him to go get the ring in the guest room drawer right this instant, suguru scoops you up. cradling you close, as he plops down on the mattress, legs crossed to give you space on his lap.

you don’t protest, only snuggling a little closer — as if yearning to tuck yourself away within his ribcage.

and suguru chuckles, the deep tremor of his voice reverberating through his chest, echoing in your head as you listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart. rubbing your back with a teasing smile, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head.

“i should make breakfast more often if it’ll get you like this,” he grins, basking in the warmth of your body against his.

a little whine falls from your lips. muffled into the curve of his shoulder, against his bare skin. “it’s not about the breakfast,” you pout, looping your arms around his neck. “it’s everything you do…”

a heat rises to your cheeks, a little embarrassed at the sappiness you’re exuding. but the sun feels so nice on your skin, and the bedroom smells so good, and the whole world feels so kind.

inhaling the fragrance of bergamot and coffee, you can only fall apart at the intimacy of the moment.

“i’m really grateful…” you murmur, resting your lips against his skin. buzzing with a warmth that has him shuddering. “‘m just bad at expressing it.”

suguru’s eyes soften. melting into a tender hue, like that of a creamsicle sunrise sky. a dreamy look smoothes over his features, and a fond hum buzzes in his throat.

“nah, you’re fine,” he drawls, squeezing at your hips affectionately. pulling away ever so slightly, just to plant a kiss on your forehead, brushing your bangs away with a certain bleeding tenderness. “you don’t need to say it out loud. i know, anyway.”

and he does. suguru understands you better than anyone; a point of immense pride, for him. knowing you so deeply that he can practically hear your thoughts before you speak them, knowing what you need at a single glance. just from a certain furrow of your brows, or the slight tilt of a smile you’re trying to hide.

always one step ahead, folding your laundry on days you’re feeling particularly stressed out, or giving your hand a comforting squeeze when he notices that you’re nervous. always so attentive. it’s a little overwhelming, but also so comforting — to be so thoroughly understood.

his eyes are warm. full of pure affection, a devotion so heavy it makes your heart stutter in your chest. all you can do is glance down, shyly, slumping your forehead against his bare chest.

your voice comes out a little strangled, still raspy. a little wobbly in the wake of your adoration.

“i wanna appreciate you…” is muffled against his skin, your lips curled down into a soft pout. and suguru breathes out a flustered little breath, amused — somewhat delighted.

“you can appreciate me by eating a hearty breakfast,” he suggests, a teasing tilt to his husky voice. cradling you just a little closer, as if even the miniscule distance between you is unbearable. as if he needs your hearts pressed together to keep himself intact. “how about that, hm? or would you rather give me a kiss?”

a moment passes, and a sleepy hum slips from your tongue. he feels your lips touch the soft skin of his neck, once more; then you muster up the strength to pull back from his embrace, slumping against his shoulder with your back against the headboard. it takes concentrated effort.

and suguru chuckles, again. odd, how a man who’s normally so put-together can’t seem to ever hide his joy whenever you’re around. but suguru is just a little too weak for you — he can’t help but let you strum his heartstrings along, however you want. any kind of melody you desire.

(it just so happens that no melody sounds prettier than a joyous one, when it’s falling from his lips.)

a lovesick smile painted on his face, suguru watches as you finally dig in. and he thinks it’s precious, the strawberry juice smearing your lips, the contentment in your features as your eyelids flutter shut. a mellow kind of pride swells in his chest with every satisfied hum that you grace him with, every giddy declaration of how delicious it all is.

there’s something about it he can’t quite explain, can’t put his finger on. something almost otherworldly, in how fulfilled it makes him feel, like he’s lived his entire life just for this moment. just for the sake of making you breakfast and watching you wolf it all down.

suguru doesn’t think there's a single better way to show his love for you than this; cooking for you, putting every last drop of his love into everything he makes. from beverages to pastries, each of them carefully chosen to suit your tastes.

there’s an intensity to the labour, something that brings him great joy. the care and excitement in something as small as the flick of his wrist when he pours sugar into your coffee, or the weight he puts on the kitchen knife while cutting the fresh strawberries he spent four minutes picking out at the market.

there’s something about it that’s just so, so tender. that earnest wish to see you happy and healthy, to make sure you never go hungry. taking care of you. it's pure, domestic, love incarnate. he’s so weak for it, so sappy, but he just can’t help it — suguru loves watching you eat his cooking more than anything.

that, and your blissful little expression is a sight to behold. sunkissed by the morning rays flitting in through the window blinds, suguru thinks you look something like an angel, soft and fleeting and so beautiful it makes his heart squeeze painfully inside his chest. heavy thumps of blood; warmth trickling from his heart to his wrists to the pads of his fingers, as he rubs absentminded circles into the skin of your thighs.

and he thinks to himself that all the happiness he needs is right here in front of him. in this moment, with you tiredly munching on the breakfast he made, sipping slowly from your cup of coffee and savouring every last drop. smiling at him so sweetly, so positively precious that he simply can't resist leaning down to taste the caffeine off your lips.

everything feels so wonderful, so completely and utterly right. the world feels so kind, like this. a world where all that exists is you, and him, and the sun. heaven on earth.

all of it sends a tremor running through his heart, every slight change of the scene reflected in his eyes. the soft smile on your lips, the way you lean your head against his shoulder and bite back a yawn, the expectant look in your eyes as you feed him pieces of your food with a giddy grin —

suguru thinks to himself that he’d sooner die than give it up.

as much as he loves sleeping in, loves indulging in your warmth until the sun sits comfortably on the blue canvas of the sky, he loves this even more. loves dragging himself out of bed before the sun even has a chance to peek out beneath the horizon painted pink and purple, tired and groggy, and so disgruntled at the warmth that leaves him when he pulls away from your skin. loves making his way to the kitchen almost in a daze, moving around the open space so very naturally; fingers curling around the lid of the espresso machine, and the crinkled paper bag of pastries, and the carton of orange juice he bought just for you.

just watching the world wake up, basking in the peace and domesticity of it all. basking in the thought of you — you, with your messy bedhead and droopy eyes, always blinking up at him so sleepily when he returns to you in the morning. he loves it all.

the soft little frown that sometimes tugs at your lips when you’re still lost in dreamland, blindly and subconsciously reaching for the empty side of the bed when he gets up to stretch. the weight of your arms around his waist, hugging his back on the somewhat rare occasion that you make your way to him before he makes his way to you. the grumbles against his skin about how he always abandons you on your days off, even if he only does it so he can make you both coffee.

you, in all your glory — now resting against his shoulder as you plop the last strawberry into your mouth, closing your eyes with a blissful little sigh.

and suguru feels so lucky. so very honoured, to be the one you chose. the one and only person who gets to see you like this, when your voice is still raspy and your hair is still messy, and you have crumbs sticking to your soft lips that you're too sleepy to wipe away.

he does so, himself, with an amused little huff that’s really more of a sigh laced with adoration. thumb smoothing over your skin gently, a silent i love you hanging on the tip of his tongue. his fingers find their way to your skin so effortlessly. like they belong there, like they exist solely to trace the softness of your jaw and to cradle your cheek.

”thank you,” you beam up at him, grinning sweetly.

and suguru knows that you mean it. he knows that you’re grateful, knows not a moment goes by when you don’t notice his affections, no matter how subtle. he thinks you're a little bit silly for worrying that he doesn't. but he thinks you're even sillier for not realizing that you deserve all of it and more, that just that sweet smile of yours alone is more than enough to make up for it.

more than anything, he hopes from the bottom of his heart that you know the opposite is true as well. that he appreciates every single thing you do, notices everything you do for him, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to you.

you're so good to him. always have been. how could he ever bear to not repay you in tenfold?

”you’re welcome,” he smiles, soft and saccharine and genuine. his lips brush against your forehead with a soft peck, one that has your body melting into his just a little more.

breakfast passes you both by in a flurry of warmth, splotches of sunlight and content hums, until you’re lying side by side beneath the blankets once again. curled up close to each other, with you resting on suguru’s chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart. his arm rests on your back, cradling you closer.

”that was delicious,” you chirp, something soft buzzing in your voice as you bite back a yawn. stretching your limbs out lazily, a honeyed smile on your face. ”as always.”

suguru’s a little too tired to fully hide the soft grin that crawls up to rest on his lips, almost smug. awfully happy with himself, and your words of earnest praise.

“yeah? ’m glad,” he hums, looking at you with affection swimming in his eyes. ”i haven’t lost my touch yet, then.”

”of course not,” you exhale, somewhere in between a huff and a chirp. “you could start a whole breakfast diner with your skills!”

the words are teasing, a little much, but laced with a syrupy sweet sincerity that has suguru’s heart doing laps in his chest. thump, thump, thump — strumming his heartstrings along as you please, conducting the orchestra inside his ribcage. but he’d much prefer to think of you as his muse.

a low chuckle rumbles through his body, akin to a purr. buzzing right by your ear, as his fingers curl around yours, his thumb rubbing soft circles into the skin of your hand. ”you think so?”

an eager nod, as you gaze up at him happily. the sight makes his lips twitch upward, and he can only hope you don’t catch the way his heart skips a beat.

smoothing a large palm over your head, he tousles your hair fondly. ”yeah?” he chuckles, again. “you'll be my first customer, then.”

the smile on your face widens. ”will i get a discount?” you ask, a fuzzy contentment in the way your eyes glimmer. ”since i’m your favorite.”

suguru grins. a husky puff of laughter seeps out of his throat, filling the air with a palpable fondness. it’s almost overwhelming, the affection that simmers in his chest, a cup overflowing. he wants to reach over and smother you in kisses, wants to coo at you. wants to tell you how irresistable you are, like this; so cute and sleepy that he thinks you could probably coax him into giving you every star in the sky.

but that can all wait for another time. he doesn’t want to break the peace of the mellow moment, the subtle intimacy that lingers in the air. the playfulness in your words.

”of course,” he simply says, indulging you with a sweet smile. ”you’ll get all the discounts you want, baby. nothing less for my favorite customer.”

suguru’s eyes crinkle, brimming with love when he hears the happy little giggle that tumbles from your pretty lips. so pretty that he can’t resist pulling you a little closer, to give you another kiss — relishing in the way you soften against him. like you could fall asleep just like this, so safe and comfortable. breathing him in.

sunlight shines in through the window blinds, engulfing you in that familiar heavenly hue. your bedroom almost seems to glow, like a hazy polaroid, a moment that feels too precious to put into words.

you look stunning, he thinks, with your droopy eyes and sleepy yawns. absolutely breathtaking. soaked in a brightness rivaling that of the sun herself, the most precious thing this world has to offer.

and suguru thinks to himself that this might just be it. that this might be all that he needs, all that he’ll ever need — but he already knew that.

he thinks of sunrises. of soft embraces and fluffy blankets, of expensive coffee pots and diamond rings, of the way your lips curl up every time he kisses you. he thinks of the light of morning, how it always seems to devour everything else. how it makes every sliver of darkness seem so inconsequential.

he thinks of how your presence always seems to do the same.

when suguru looks down, pulled out of his lovesick stupor by the sound of a little snore, you’ve fallen back asleep. cheek squished against his bare chest, drooling a smidge as you dream so prettily, your chest rising up and down in a rhythmic serenity.

his heart flutters. fleeting and giddy, a little dove trapped in his chest. with a sweet coo, he reaches over to caress your skin with the back of his hand, careful not to wake you — so gentle that he holds his breath, as if afraid that even a single exhale could disrupt your well-deserved rest.

butterflies dance in his stomach, when he sees the way that makes you smile. a whirlwind of them, wings fluttering eagerly, as if attempting to fly out of his throat. he gulps them down again, but he can still feel them. just like he could when you first met.

butterflies that still haven't gone away, despite how long you’ve been together. butterflies that never will go away, as long as there are plates to fill and breakfasts to be made.

in other words, they're there to stay — forever and ever.

(suguru’s gaze falls on your ring finger. he thinks of the secret in the bottom of the drawer, and wonders what kind of breakfast he should make for you when it’s time to bring it out.)

#im normal abt him!! i swear i am!!!!!#smth about extremely devoted malewives with black hair just do it for me #suguru geto n aki hayakawa are like this🤞in my brain #i think suguru was like. crafted specifically to look good in the morning #like that deep voice……. his hair in a messy bun………. wearing sweatpants w no shirt……………….. i am on my hands n knees #this ended up almost as a parallel to my gojo fic…. it wasnt even intentional blame stsgs soulmatism #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #geto fluff #geto suguru x you #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk

2K notes · View notes

krashlite · 16 days

Text

Actually can we talk more about how Secret Soulmates were two fucked up guys running from their problems but dooming each other and their soulmates in the process. Especially because they decided to Cheat instead of actually leave their soulmates

Can we talk more about how much they romanticized cheating and how they thought their hidden relationship was healthier when it wasn’t- they just thought it was because they were in the Honeymoon stage and couldn’t see the problems with it

Then they’re Forced to confront said problems when Grian accidentally fucking kills BigB

#I swear to god this arc reads like a Shakespearean play #trafficblr #secret soulmates #trafficshipping #again I Guess on the trafficshipping

537 notes · View notes

minty364 · 3 months

Text

DPXDC Prompt #128 part 1

Danny wasn’t sure what exactly happened, but one moment he was hiding out in an alley trying his best to wrap the bandages around his torso and the next he found himself in front of a clown. His thoughts began to blur further as he began to panic. His first instinct was to tighten his fists and move into a defensive position but when he tightened his fist something happened. The clown that had been right in front of them was there and then he wasn’t. The gun he was sure he wasn’t holding before fired and sent the clown away from Danny.

Shock began to set in as he looked down on what he had done. Everything had moved so fast he couldn’t even comprehend it, he didn’t even get a good look at the one he so swiftly ended. The force of the gun caused him to fall back, breathing heavily he stared at the gun before quickly setting it down on the ground making sure the safety was on, he wasn’t risking another death. With the weapon safely placed on the ground he finally decided to take in some of his surroundings.

His soulmate was wearing a helmet and what looked to be some armor, they were in a warehouse of some sort. Danny had forgotten what it felt like to be human and he’d pay a lot more attention if the panic from murder wasn’t setting in. The clown wasn’t moving, they layed there a heap on the floor… Danny really murdered someone. Okay, he could deal with this.

…

Who was he kidding what the hell was he supposed to do? It was then that he saw movement from the corner of his eyes and he truly knew he was fucked. Someone was right by his soulmate while he had his gun pointed at the clown, did his soulmate want the clown dead? His mind was still racing incoherently as he tried to piece together what exactly just happened.

A minute passed or what felt like one, Danny swore Clockwork messed with his sense of time sometimes. He slowly raised his hands after he realized the other wasn’t going to speak, he slowly turned to see the absolute worst person to help in this scenario.

Batman, Danny was pretty sure he was fucked. He was so entirely fucked and it was then that he realized how truly he messed up. His head snapped back over to the clown and yep that’s the Joker, oh he just killed the Joker in front of Batman in his soulmate's body. Did that mean his soulmate knew Batman? Danny was absolutely stunned into silence, he had nothing he could say, who knew his soulmate would have a life probably just as messed up as his.

“Jason…” Batman’s gravelly voice broke Danny out of his thoughts, oh his soulmate's name was Jason.

Danny who finally finds his voice says, “My soulmate's name is Jason?” The voice modulator startled him and it was then that all hell broke loose.

Voices started crackling into his ear with several different people starting to speak at once.

“Did he just say soulmate?”

“Jason this better not be a prank”

“Wait, who pulled the trigger?? I heard that gunshot”

“Enough, keep coms clear” Batman commanded and everything went silent he then turned to address Danny, “come with me, we’ll need to find Jason so you and him will be alone to switch back. We’ll talk about that after.” He didn’t motion with his hands or jerk his head or anything but Danny knew exactly what he meant.

He swallowed harshly and then followed.

—————

Jason found himself no longer holding his guns, no longer in front of the damn clown, and his armor and helmet were gone. He was wearing clothes closer to rags than street clothes and his entire body seemed to ache. This must have been his soulmate's body and they were having a way worse time than Jason was at the moment. There seemed to be hastily done bandages around his waist and he honestly felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He was in an alley thankfully although that also meant he triggered the switch. Everyone knew when you got close enough to your soulmate you switched bodies.

Jason had to get to the closest safe house and hopefully he could do some proper first aid on his soulmate. He stumbled to get on his feet and began to make his way out of the alley.

Im going to update the original post as the master post and you’ll be able to find all future parts there.

Master Post:

#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #poor danny #vivisection #tw vivisection #soulmates au #Batman saw Danny kill the Joker but thought he was Jason #part 1 #tw swearing #prompt fill #even if I fill my own prompts I still encourage people to write their own #A lot of my prompts are ambiguous on purpose #my asks are open #all my prompts are free to use

434 notes · View notes

biscuitboba · 3 months

Text

No but seeing some people obsessing over the idea of zoro turning his back against luffy at the end of one piece is so CRAZYY to me, i can't even tell if they are being serious or not- like are we reading/watching the same thing? Are we talking about the same roronoa zoro??

THE RORONOA ZORO???

Roronoa zoro who is willing to die and sacrifice his ambition (even throwing away his precious possessions) for his captain?

Roronoa zoro who is prideful but willing to bow/get down on his knees, throw aside his pride and BEG for his captain's sake??

Roronoa zoro who is (always) willing to follow his captain's orders... "if my captain gives the order, i'll just follow" ???

Roronoa zoro who is willing to follow his dear captain to hell? The one who always worries about his captain even though his captain is very strong, the one who always watches over his captain, stands by his side and protects him????

Roronoa zoro whose more than 70% of his smiles and laughters are caused by his captain?? The one who's dream have already merged with his captain's- so deep, to the point of it's already inseparable?????

I legitimately can't imagine zoro betraying luffy at the end of one piece like the idea's so unthinkable? Soo unfathomable that i think zoro'd rather commit harakiri than betray his own captain. I think that would also betray his characterization?? Oda might as well say that someone possessed zoro or he was replaced by another character.

(Also if u want zoro lowkey betraying/abandoning/leaving(?) his captain, we already have One Piece: The Cursed Holy Sword???)

#zolu #luzo #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #one piece #zoro and luffy are soulmate pls dont make them fight #evil zoro/zoro as the final villain ideas pls poof away #like twitter is something else i swear #op fans there with their ideas are so craazyyy at times that i cant even comprehend them #delete later? idk but a girl gotta vent!

176 notes · View notes

forbescaroline · 8 months

Text

235 FAVORITE SHIPS OF ALL TIME (ranked by my followers) 134. yousef acar and sana bakkoush - skam

#yousana #skamedit #yousanaedit #dailyskams #yousef acar #sana bakkoush #skam #otp: i swear that we're soulmates #**#235ships #mine: skam #mine: yousef and sana #4x03 #4x07 #4x01 #4x09 #4x08 #4x04

240 notes · View notes

beanghostprincess · 3 months

Note

Roger really DOES have mad girldad energy and I am feral.

Welcome to my walls btw, it's hot af in Florida, so lmk if you need a popsicle/hj

Just. Omfg imagine Toki and Buggy bonding SO MUCH and Toki is the one who helps Buggy find Her Style and Her Confidence. Oden also has Big Himbo Dad Emergy too, so I bet he'd just be like ":000 a GIRL! WONDERFUL!!! I shall have TWO daughters!"

Roger ofc takes big offense to that and it becomes a shipwide brawl over who gets to be her dad, and Buggy is just laughing, crying, pickpocketing everyone. Only like. Three fellas even have the driving NEED to call her their daughter, they just love the chaos. Shanks is just left GAPING bc ofc he loves Buggy, he always has, always will, but the way she was smiling, the way she's just beaming at the acceptance, no matter how dramatic it is - by Davy Jones, it steals his breath away.

Whatever you do tho, don't imagine Toki dressing Buggy up in traditional Wano attire. Don't imagine Toki taking on the role of aunt or big sister and sharing this culture with Buggy. Teaching her the ways of warriors from her homeland, the codes and dress and recipes. Don't imagine Toki telling Buggy "family secrets" like recipes, fighting styles, etc. Don't imagine Toki just easily saying that of course Buggy needs to know these things! Blood is but the fluid of life, and love is what makes a family - and Buggy has so much love to give, so much to receive, and Toki calls her a child of Wano in heart and soul, in all the ways that matter should Buggy want that.

And Buggy, who has only ever wanted to BELONG, oh she accepts without hesitation.

Leaving Toki behind was hard, but she gifts Buggy an heirloom of sorts, a hair piece that she keeps either tucked under her beanie or safe in a chest, anchored to the floor of her room ((or hidden carefully with Devil Fruit powers)).

The day Toki manages to make/get a suitably sized kimono for Buggy, maybe for a party on the ship, maybe a birthday celebration ((and here I insert my Wano Culture Headcanons, that there's a birthday where children transition to young adults, and it's similar to a quinceñera but different, partially because it's done at 13, and then a second one at 18, a five year period of growth, life compared to butterflies, and so Toki convinces the crew to do these for the Cabin Kids-))

Buggy comes out, hair done, kimono flawless and bright and bold and so very her, a quiet joy on her face, and the crew is FLABBERGASTED.

Roger is sobbing.

Rayleigh has suddenly aged 20 years because oh shit oh gods she's going to be beautiful as an adult, oh damn it all he's gonna have to beat men off of her-

Shanks is caught between swooning, wanting to tackle her, and remembering just how the heck breathing works.

((Roger, Rayleigh, Crocus and Oden do rock paper scissors to get the first dance with her, and it dissolves into a fist fight somehow. Shanks gets involved and bites them. Toki takes the first dance.))

I have. So many emotions about transfem Buggy, bestie, send help it's all my brain can think about.

It's okay, I miss hot weather because here in Spain I am freezing and I am a spring child. My spiritual flower is a sunflower. I need the SUN. I NEED TO GO INTO THE FLAMES. So I'll stay there happily.

Please, Toki would so adopt Buggy. And Oden would be THRILLED. He'll see them getting along and he'd instantly say they look like mother and daughter. Buggy would be shy about it but Toki would probably laugh and say "Oh! Do we really? What do you think, Bugs?" and it's just,, So sweet,, Oden loves her a lot and he can't wait to see his Hiyori grow up too. Roger would be FURIOUS when he hears that because he "found her first" which, you know, true, but it's a weird way of saying that's his daughter. Anyway- Rayleigh would be so fucking done with everything. They'd fight about it and Buggy would actually have the time of her life because she feels important and flashy for once in a long time, and she'd laugh oh so beautifully at them when talking with Shanks about it in their room. Like she'd just laugh at the situation and Shanks is still not getting used to his very very not platonic feelings for his best friend. But he'd enjoy his time with her. He's just going a bit insane.

I can't stop thinking now about Buggy finally finding a place to belong. She's been lost for so long,, Feeling left out. And now Toki has gifted her with the most precious treasure there is: A home. Belonging. And I am so so emotional right now. Toki would be so proud of her and Buggy would just be so thankful. If Buggy called her 'mom' at some point, she'd feel embarrassed right away, but Toki would probably fight the tears and hug her close. Going crazy, really. All the men in Buggy's life fighting for her first dance,, Rayleigh just knows he'll have to fight all the men that hurt his precious star. And Shanks is starting to think about that too and the thought of Buggy dating somebody else makes him sick, so perhaps he needs to start with a plan to confess finally (he's so asking Toki about it. I'm gonna cry). Roger crying because he wants to enjoy every second he has left with her... It kills me.

I just know that to this day, Buggy still thinks about Toki as her mom. She never mentions it to anybody, but she feels such a strong connection to Wano and she's dying to go there finally someday. She might have not been born there, but her soul belongs there. And it's just so sweet. I am sobbing, thank you. Every time she does her hair, she feels Toki's hands instead of hers and she remembers everything she taught her,,,

Now I have on my mind a very silly Shuggy thought about Shanks trying to flirt with Buggy but failing miserably (because he's a kid and he only knows how to tease her or follow Roger's advice which are, um, not good) and Buggy just being so done and exhausted. She can't stand him! He's so annoying! Sometimes she doesn't know if she wants to punch him or kiss him! And she doesn't even know if Shanks likes her back because he keeps acting stupid. And she goes to Toki for advice and she's like "oh, darling... Men are stupid. Do you know why you felt smarter than them when you were unaware of being a girl? Well, one of the reasons is that Shanks is a kid. He's dumb. But he loves you and cares so much for you... He's just having a hard time trying to make his way to your heart" / "But he-! He's so damn- Ugh. He's such an idiot. He already did, and he just doesn't know because he can't see it and I can't stand him-" / "Well, maybe you should be the one telling him, huh?" / "What?! No! And give him the satisfaction of thinking I fell first?! I'd rather die. No. He has to make the first move". And now Toki is involved (like the rest of the crew because Shuggy is a whole teen drama) in their love story because Buggy keeps complaining about men being stupid and Shanks keeps saying he doesn't get how Buggy can't see he's in love with her.

#i think we're soulmates anon you always write exactly what i'm thinking :((#this is just so beautiful i am sobbing and now i want to write countless fics about this #god i swear this whole thing made my day #thank you so much for your asks really <333 #fem buggy lives in my mind rent free forever i love her so much she's so important to me #one piece #buggy the clown #fem buggy #kozuki toki #roger pirates #red haired shanks #shuggy

112 notes · View notes

unfinishedslurs · 1 year

Text

soulmarks (stobin)

Robin is born with bruises on her knees.

Her parents tell the story all the time. We were so worried, they say, but the doctors told us it was normal. Her soulmate must have just been learning to walk. That poor boy must have been quite the adventurer, the bruises never ceased!

As she gets older, the odd marks keep showing up. On her hips, her arms, her shins. She’s sure she’s leaving her fair share of marks on them, too. They’re clumsy, both of them.

When she’s eight, a set of fingers are clear around her wrist. Her parents look at each other sadly and murmur about things Robin doesn’t quite understand.

They ask her to tell them if she ever gets a mark like that again. None ever appear. Their relief is obvious.

Her mother sits her down. “When you meet your soulmate,” she tells Robin, “make sure he knows he is always welcome in our home.”

Robin thought it would be obvious. What’s hers is theirs, after all, and vise versa. Two halves of the same soul.

As she gets older, the idea rakes at her. Make sure he knows, her mother said. He is always welcome.

She doesn’t know if it would be the same, if her soulmate was a girl. They have to be. After all, Robin is realizing, there’s no way her soulmate is a boy.

When she’s fifteen, bruises appear on her face and knuckles and her mother shrieks at the sight of her. Robin just sits, quietly reeling. Girls don’t get in fights like this, she thinks numbly. Girls don’t…

That evening, three gashes scar across her body. Somehow she already knows they’ll be permanent. She cries herself to sleep.

She keeps her head down, and barely even hears about the fight Steve Harrington got into with Jonathan Byers. It doesn't matter. She’s got bigger concerns than Steve Harrington.

Things are quiet for the next year. Hardly any bruises, which makes her happy and upset in equal measure. She doesn’t know why the universe would do this to her. Why would it give her someone she can never fall in love with? Maybe the universe is homophobic, she thinks, but doesn’t laugh. It sure fucking feels like it.

She tries to leave less bruises on them, too, as an avoidance technique. It doesn’t work. She’s got soccer practice, and marching band, and she runs into a pole when a pretty girl smiles at her across the street. Dammit.

November comes back around, and with it, new marks.

They’re awful.

It starts out with a couple of scratches that look similar to the three from last year that she still wears. Then her mom has to watch, horrified, as new bruises appear on her face. When she pulls her shirt up, they’re on her ribs. Worse than they’ve ever been.

She pretends to be too sick to go to school for the two days it takes for them to fade, to avoid the questions and the gossip. Last year was bad enough, after someone started a rumor her soulmate was in a gang.

Something that doesn’t fade is the thin scar along her hairline. She pulls her hair down to cover it, and swears quietly at whoever the universe decided to gift her.

(She worries about them all the time.)

#soulmarks au #robin buckley #stobin as platonic soulmates #stranger things fanfic #HI i'm alive I’ve been writing and also trying to finish up my stobin lavender marriage fic #I swear I’m in the last sprint and then I’ll have a FINISHEDslurs work #there’s not enough stobin literal soulmates works out there #here’s my plan on how to fix that-

283 notes · View notes

ianthoni · 9 days

Text

Look me in the eye and tell me this is not the same picture

#opposites attract #smosh #ian hecox #anthony padilla #ianthony #☀️🔍#soulmatism #sorry not sorry #its the period i swear

52 notes · View notes

wrongcaitlyn · 7 days

Text

no i don’t have another fame au idea forming in my head no i won’t be writing anything new before finishing the so american au or working on greatest of luxuries no im not imagining scenes from a new fic while listening to ttpd no im not going to have a new au hyper fixation no i will NOT DO THIS AGAIN UNTIL I HAVE FINISHED EVERYTHING ELSE I SWEAR

#but ttpd is so nico coded if he didn’t find his soulmate at age 11 and started dating him at 15 #just saying #like all of this is completely hypothetical and an au where nico just got out of a long term relationship and then a fling and then met #football player will is like definitely not a thing i’m thinking about #and there will be no new doc opened tonight #i swear #wrongcaitlyn

24 notes · View notes

boffeeceans · 3 months

Text

Thinking about this little car on Eddie's nightstand, I can't possibly figure out what kind of car it is, not from such a blurry picture and I'm also not a car person... but it's giving me mungrove thoughts, some sad, some not so

#mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #might write the toughts out #might not #who knows #oh look bat relates the smallest most insignificant detail to mungrove #shocker #okay but im look at the pic and the model of billys car on my shelf and i swear theyre the exact same color #could be wrong tho #but im not cause i say so #dare i say... soulmates??

34 notes · View notes