#they just can’t get my nose right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roraruu · 1 year

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YOTO: April

Ignatz/Dorothea. Canon divergence/“no I’m not dating your brother”.

Derdriu was the last place Ignatz thought he’d ever seen Dorothea Arnault.

It was a momentary glance, as he left a client’s business on behalf of his parents. The gold jingled in his pockets, hitting against his thigh. His eyes trained to the ground, he focused on the salty, sour scent of the nearby sea, the cool winter air, the sounds of merchants advertising their wares and people passing and—

The softest, sweet tone took to the air. He listened harder. He knew that voice.

“Dorothea?”

A pair of jade eyes looked back at him, pleading and overjoyed.

“Ignatz?”

—

Dorothea is as charming and bewitching as she was in the academy. And she eats—her manners impeccable and conduct befitting of a lady—like she hasn’t seen food in a month.

The restaurant is warm and bustling. After noticing the cut of the dress Dorothea wore and her pale complexion, Ignatz requested a table closest to the hearth and speedily ordered a pot of tea.

She is all graces and thank yous, gentle inclines of her head in which her bangs fall into her eyes and she continuously pushes it behind her ears to stay away from her lovely mouth.

She explains, between a delicate sip of her tea that she had helped with the dispersal of the Enbarr Opera House and the Mittelfrank Opera Company, her alma mater.

“I wanted to help people.” She murmurs. “But…”

“I understand.” Ignatz says as another bowl of bread arrives, and with it another refill of the teapot with hot water..

“My finances aren’t exactly liquid. I managed to find a way from Enbarr to here. Bern was kind enough to convey me, without her father’s knowing, but she couldn’t come with me.”

“Why the Alliance?” Ignatz finds himself asking.

Dorothea’s face takes on a grave countenance. “I love Edie… Loved. But I cannot stand by while she murders innocents.” She says softly. “And the Kingdom did not seem much better.“ She forces, what he expects was to be a chipper giggle, but it’s a defeated chuckle. “I’d probably freeze passing over the border.”

“So you came here.”

“I had the pleasure of taking tea with Claude once or twice, and unfortunately, Lorenz too. They made this place sound beautiful.”

“It is quite breathtaking.” He says, glancing out the far-off window. If he squints, he can catch a glimpse of the grey sea.

“I crossed the Bridge of Myrddin and came here. Most of my funds are gone, but…” She forces a smile. “I’m here.”

“Are you going to stay with Claude?”

“My housing situation is… it isn’t fixed.”

“Well then you must stay with us.”

“Us?”

Ignatz nods. “My family.” He explains. “My brother is studying beneath my father to inherit the business—the Victor Trading Company—and he sends me out on small jobs.” He makes himself sound brighter. “Like today. I had just finished a commission before crossing paths with you.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“Dorothea,” Ignatz says firmly. She meets his gaze. He notices that she’s grown thinner, her face pale. “I must insist.”

She heaves a sigh, reaches across the table and pats his hand. He feels his face heat. “At least… At least let me ask.”

Ignatz smiles. “Whatever you please.” He agrees and encourages her to take the last sweet bun.

***

A plan is worked out over steaming cups of tea. It takes a little lying—but with Ignatz’s newfound confidence—it is nothing more than a bent truth.

With his cut from the commission, he puts Dorothea up in an inn for the evening—specifically the Kristen Cottage run by his best friend, Raphael. When the jovial brawler sees Dorothea and Ignatz he pulls her into a bear hug and twirls her around. His little sister, Maya, almost drops her dishes upon seeing the famed Mystical Songstress herself.

Raphael closes the tavern, insists that Ignatz stay for a drink while Maya helps Dorothea upstairs and tends to her. They talk, and when Dorothea returns, she relays her story to the Kirsten siblings. At the end, Raphael asks the crucial question:

“So, what happens now?”

“Well, Raphie, that’s where you come in.” She says. “I need work. Have you any need for entertainment? I can sing, dance, I’ll even help in the kitchen!”

“But what about…” Ignatz falls silent as Dorothea grabs his hand beneath the table.

“Of course we do!” Maya exclaims happily.

“My, Grandpa hasn’t approved—”

Maya turns back to Raphael—she’s tinier than him but just as loud. “Raph! A former opera star in our joint? That would drag! The! Customers! In!”

Dorothea smiles softly. “It would…” she says. “I remember all of my best roles!”

Maya turns to Dorothea, eyes wide. “R-Really? Oh, even as Marguerite?” She asks. “She’s my favourite one of your roles… The songs were all so sad, I cried buckets!”

“Well I hope you have a pail,” says Dorothea with a wink. “if Raphie has me, I’ll sing them all for you.”

“Please?” Maya whines.

Raphael gives in. “Alright, of course.” He says. “But we can only put you up for a while. It’s sorta packed in here tonight. You could stay with us, we’re downstairs in the basement.”

Dorothea’s eyes grew glassy. “It’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for. Thank you Raphael.”

As the night drew to a close, Ignatz begins to say his farewells, promising to check-in on them the following day. Dorothea, unexpectedly, throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight.

“Thank you Ignatz. For everything.” She whispers softly.

He feels himself blush again and promises anything for her.

Over the course of the next few days, in between Dorothea working tirelessly as the new—and showstopping headliner for the Kirsten Cottage—and Ignatz’s own duties keeping up client communications and other duties, they met a few times in the warm tavern.

It was after close and Ignatz comes for a sole glass of wine. Dorothea sits beside him, humming softly under her breath.

“Do you still draw?”

His ears grow hot. Guiltily, he replies. “W-When I have a moment of privacy, yes. But those moments are few and far between.”

“That’s sad.”

He remains quiet. “It must be gratifying to do what you love as a career.”

“I mean, look where it got me.” Dorothea muses. “Getting into Enbarr during the military lockdown was a nightmare, and then to break up my family… It was hell.”

Ignatz inclines his head. “I’m sorry Dorothea. I should’ve been more prudent.”

“It’s fine.” She says before tapping her nails across the table. “But…”

He looks at her encouragingly. She leans closer, glancing towards the kitchen where the Kirsten siblings clean up for the night. “Somedays I wished I never sang at all.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm.” She nods. “It’s… I love it, but constantly singing over and over… It takes all the meaning out of it.”

“But you do what you love.” He asks, surprised.

“Yes, and I get tired of it.” Dorothea says before hastily adding, “but I’m eternally grateful to Raphael and his family for giving me the work… I just wish… I wish I weren’t so tired of singing.”

“You…” Ignatz murmurs before meeting her gaze. “And it isn’t like you can afford to take a break.”

“No.” She confirms. “Unless I make up a paycheque in another way.”

Silence falls between the two.

“I still… I can’t believe you don’t love singing anymore.”

“I do it so much, the joy is stripped from it.” She confesses quietly to him.

The words stalk him all the way home and up to his room where he gazes at his painting tools before succumbing to sleep.

***

Ignatz’s mother—Cressida—and his younger sister a year his junior named Celeste—are more shocked when he says he’s met someone.

Cressida’s eyes widen and she lowers her teacup very quickly. Ignatz has always known his mother to be refined and ladylike: calm, quiet, watchful. He feels her brown eyes—the only thing he got from her—on him as Celeste prods him.

“A lady friend?” She smirks, at the age of 19, and still as annoying as she was at seven. “When do I buy a new parasol and lace and welcome a sister?”

Quickly, he insists, “She’s an old friend from Garreg Mach.” Ignatz explains, watching Celeste’s mischievous look.

“Probably some baron’s daughter. You could do worse, I suppose, Brother.”

“She’s passing through Derdriu.”

“Where to?”

“Gloucester. She will be singing for the Count and his son.”

Cressida studies her son’s face. He’s gotten too good with lying; for years, he’d fidget with his hands or look away… A small tic that would render him guilty. “She is a singer?” She inquires.

“Formerly of the Mittelfrank Opera Company.”

Cressida looks intrigued. “Oh. I recall seeing the company when they were in Derdriu before the war and when you were at the Academy.”

“You would have missed her. She was one of my classmates.”

Cressida remains silent.

“So why’s she talking to you?” Celeste prods. “If she’s some big opera star…”

“She confessed that she always enjoyed my company.” He lies. “And I enjoyed hers, so we have spent a little time together.”

Celeste smirks, then murmurs under her breath, “here comes the bride…”

“Celeste.” Cressida says quietly. Celeste stops humming and turns back to her eggs which are now cold.

Her brown eyes fall on Ignatz, encouraging him to go on.

“I would like host her for a meal.“

“Very well.” Cressida agrees. “Your father and Atticus will be dining out tonight, so bring her around.”

Ignatz tenses. The plan was to have both his father and brother around. Without him, his mother will never offer accommodations, at least not without a push.

So Ignatz, for the first time in his life, pushes.

“Might she stay the night?” He asks, his face reddening. Celeste’s eyes go wide as if she’s about to snort at him. “I would like her to meet Father.”

Cressida narrows her gaze on him. “Why?”

“I think they would get along, Mother.”

Cressida pauses, sips her tea and then acquiesces. “Very well. Bring her to the manor at five and no later.”

***

If there was ever any doubt as to Dorothea’s charms, it was dispelled in the moment she met Cressida.

Ignatz had always known his mother—like his father—as hard-to-please, but Dorothea was the most satisfying creature to her ever. Even Atticus, who had always been her favourite, was quickly forgotten when Dorothea engaged her in conversation.

As Celeste serves the coffee, she murmurs to Ignatz, “Okay, maybe I doubt you, but never again.” She promises. “She’s gorgeous.”

Ignatz acquiesces. “She is. And she’s quite kind.”

Little lies and bent truths are shared that evening. Dorothea explains that she’s passing through to sing for Lorenz and his father—the name drop impresses Cressida—and then she details her roles, and as they sit in the drawing room, Cressida insists that Dorothea sing for her.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Ignatz insists, turning to his mother nervously. “We wouldn’t want to impose on our guest…”

“No,” Dorothea says gently. “I’d love to sing for you.”

Ignatz thinks back to the conversation in the tavern. How she began to loathe singing. But as she sings her bars and warms her voice up, Ignatz cannot help but long to paint her. Those jade eyes, that chestnut hair, the willowy frame and ruddy cheeks… She is an artist’s dream, walked off the canvas.

She sings beautifully for almost a half hour. Cressida is highly impressed and gives her ready approval, and even Celeste is shocked when Dorothea proves not only to be witty, beautiful and talented, but also kind.

Cressida insists that she will stay the night and tells Ignatz to set her up in the east wing of the house, prefacing that she may see the lovely sunrise that pales in comparison to her beauty. After they say goodnight, Ignatz offers her his arm and leads her up the staircase.

She reaches for his hand and smiles at him. She gives it a reassuring little squeeze, and he gives one back. As they reach the top of the stairs, Dorothea whispers to him:

“Will you show me your paintings?” She asks quietly. “I know art’s a personal thing… I don’t think I could ever show a half-finished song to someone else…”

“Y-Yes…” He finds himself taking her hand and leading her to his room. The moon streams into through the lone window of his sombre little room.

He turns to the closet and pulls from it a few sketches and his tiny easel which has a half-finished still-life of the view outside his window. Blushing and embarrassed, he practically throws them at Dorothea, hurriedly insisting that he knows they’re not good, that they’re nothing special.

“Ignatz…” Dorothea barely breathes. “These are beautiful.”

He looks up in shock. “B-But…” He scrambles for words. “I was so insensitive to your feelings about art!”

Dorothea smiles gently and touches his hand reassuringly. “Ignatz, I’m not me, and you’re not you.” She says gingerly. “We’re different people with different outlooks… You want to become a painter, right?”

He nods sheepishly.

“Then I hope, with all my heart, that you can become one someday.” She turns her eyes back on a sketch of Saint Cethleann. “You’d be a wonderful artist. I’m certain you would be.”

Ignatz blushes softly and moves closer as she asks a question about the next sketch—of Saint Cichol, his wife and their daughter—and he explains the details. His hand brushes against hers, their fingers intertwining briefly—

“And who is this?”

Ignatz jolts at the deep voice, his blood running cold. His face goes red. In the doorway is his elder brother, Atticus. Dorothea glances his way and smiles softly, curtseys and introduces herself as the evening’s guest and her credentials.

Atticus studies Dorothea before making a comment beneath his breath about his “useless drawings” and leaving the two. Dorothea’s smile fades.

“He’s exactly the type of man I’d hate to be with at the opera…” She whispers to him. “And exactly the one who’d pay for a dinner with me.”

Ignatz’s stomach rolls with anxiety.

Dorothea steals a glimpse at his expression and laughs softly. “Don’t worry, I’m not dating your brother.” She promises.

“Thank the goddess…” Ignatz whispers.

She hugs him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He hugs her back and smiles. “Anything for you.”

He shows Dorothea her room, and upon returning to his, takes charcoal to paper and attempts to sketch the likeness of her face, falling asleep in his art before long.

***

Ignatz’s father, Augustus, makes quick decisions. It is, perhaps, what has kept him in business for so long, and flourishing for just as long. And that morning, when Ignatz nervously introduces the two, he immediately takes a liking to Dorothea.

She turns on the charms quickly, and as she’s about to collect her bags and return to the Kirsten’s Cottage, Augustus asks to see her in his study. She winks at Ignatz and he waits nervously outside, in the drawing room with Celeste as the plays the piano.

When Dorothea emerges, she wears a self-assured smile. Ignatz quickly gets up and meets her in the hallway.

“Your father says the garden is pretty. Will you show me?” She asks.

“Of course.” They go outside to the frosty garden and walk a few paces away from the windows.

“Well?”

“Your father… he asked that I shadow you. He thinks that we could be a good selling team.” Dorothea says. “What do you say, Iggy?”

“Iggy?”

“You needed a nickname. Your name, though it is handsome, is a bit imposing and long.” She says. “You okay with it? You can call me Thea, if you’d like?”

“No no,” He declines respectfully. “Your name is too beautiful to be shortened.”

She smiles softly. “You think so?”

He nods. “I do. And as for the partnership, I don’t think I could ask for a better match.”

Dorothea smiles, and then stands on the tips of her toes and pecks him on the cheek. Ignatz goes bright red.

Gazing at her, he smiles and confesses, “I don’t think I could either.”

***

In Imperial Year 1185, on the day of promised meeting, Ignatz Victor and Dorothea Arnault arrived at Garreg Mach Monastery together. The three years since their reunion in Derdriu had proved fruitful: Dorothea joined the Victor Trading Company as a sales agent, working alongside Ignatz. She easily used her wit and charms to seal deals with particularly hard-to-please clients. She’d also passed on that charm and confidence to Ignatz, which his former classmates noticed immediately.

In addition to his newfound confidence, Ignatz had gained a deeper reverence for his artistic side. After being found one night attempting to paint Dorothea’s likeness, she modelled for him. His parents, finally understanding the depth of his talent, allowed him time off—though minimal—to study and paint.

In their moments of peace, it was said that Dorothea and Ignatz would share their talents together—Dorothea, who had retired from the stage, would sing only for him, and Ignatz would happily draw anything she wished.

After the war, when Dorothea completed an opera—called the Crimson Flower, based upon her late, dear friend—Ignatz was the one to paint the posters and served as creative consultant. While not singing, Dorothea directed the opera to critical acclaim, and acted as a guardian to the new talent she selected for the show.

When the two had grown tired of the stage, they departed for new lands. Ignatz’s work, which grew in popularity thanks to the production and his own skills, was in demand and often peddled by Dorothea. It was often remarked, by friends and complete strangers, the couple were an odd, but well-suited match.

#year of the otp #FE3H #dorothea arnault #ignatz victor #ru writes #listen i know this is a weird ass ship but i thought about it in passing in november and havent been able ot think of anything else.#this isn’t an April fool’s joke I’m dead serious I think they could work and i may fuckindie on this hill #still crazy into dorovain though #Ignatz X Dorothea #god that’s so fucking weird #but fr dorothea throwing herself dramatically on a couch like ‘draw me like one of your derdriu girls Iggy!!’ And he’s just sobbing and #covered in charcoal bc he’s been drawing for hours and can’t get her nose right and he just wants to sleep #there’s potential i swear there is #also i may write the other idea i had which is essentially like. The above but in a uni au where they’re both broke #and dorothea is a struggling actress who only gets roles to play a dead body on crime shows and a dramatic soapy villain who dies on a soap #opera. Yes i am projecting about Aileen Ashby’s death on GH and stealing from my FWB au #anywyas i work in like. 7 hours bye.

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devilishdelights · 11 months

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some mammon stuffs from awhile ago. I did this for every character (pain.) to figure out how I want em to look like + use as refs.

#every time I draw him it feels as if I can’t get him right. like these are the peak mammon drawings I have that 100% show how I envision him #maybe I just need 2 do a big study. hehe #or maybe I need to draw someone else for fucking once god damn #he has such a tiny nose in the first one LOL ❤️#n his hair I kinda like. I’m trying to draw it more accurately now though but idk I think it works for me in my style. but in other drawings #it just looks off. drawing bangs r harder than it looks #bc u wanna get them even n pleasing 2 the eye. so when u flip the canvas it’s chill #do not flip these I have not seen the flipped LMFAO I don’t wannsee it #he also has this angular eyeshape I do that just makes it feel like mammon to me.#angular as in there’s like three lines. if that makes sense #I think u can see it in my other drawings #like the eyes here are round. but it’s still like. drawn in three parts instead of one continuous line.#I feel hunched over like a scientist explaining his greatest creation to those who accidentally stumble across him #my other faves r beel’s + solomon’s icons. they’re just so fucking nice!!! not to toot my own fucking horn but I’m tooting it toot toot #enywey. back 2 the guy here. I also think he has a crooked smile or just one side that lifts higher than the other. yk that boyish charm bs #u read in YA books. yeah. and he’s got dimples on his cheeks. and lower back !!!!#both noses r different n the left is one where I was still figuring it out. the right is how I envision it more/all my other posts w him #he’s got a soft round shaped nose. very squishable too #ALSO GOLDEN FANGS YEAH but I’ve had a hard time drawing them without it looking weird with all the other teeth #n his eyebrows have that little spike at the curve that I rlly like but it’s always covered by his fuckinf hair so most of the time u can’t #even see it. anyway I’m done rambling I’m just bored as fuck. cheers #also sorry for changing my icon all the time. it cannot be helped

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sunlightswallowed · 1 year

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[meme voice] It’s the same picture

#♔ ∵ * ∴ ��𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐒 › just can’t get the nose right #i love my faceclaim choices for ari i truly do

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trollbreak · 2 years

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Me any time I see the chance to share some possibly unknown fun bit of info: *starts vibrating*

#I fucking love sharing cool tidbits I fucking love getting to share neat little details about the world with people it’s like hey here’s #this thing that I think is SO fucking cool would you like another fun fact bc I have many I know how long on average you can go without #sleep before hallucinating I know that humans shed their hair and also we have stripes but we just can’t see them and there’s a very tiny #bone in your ear and most of your nose is cartilage and the average doorframe is six feet and eight inches and that’s my favorite fun fact #right there and if you type :readmore: in a tumblr post you can have the option to have the read more thing on mobile I fucking love that #and-#the world is full of fun little details and I love it. have you ever just looked at someone’s eye for a while? there’s patterns in the iris #that you can’t see from far away and they’re so pretty

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afieldinengland · 2 years

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#sometimes i do wonder why people aren’t crueller to me. i’d deserve it you know….. i don’t know. is that silly?#i just think. people are so gentle with me when really i deserve to be wounded a little more than i am #not that i’d want to be. i have been. but it’s what i deserve what i want doesn’t really feature #it’s absurd. i don’t know. i just….. sometimes i wonder why people are so good to me #only lamb in the world that deserves a good hard smack rather than a caress. i don’t know.#if i could open my head and show you you’d understand why i feel i deserve only cruelty. but i can’t #i don’t want to sound selfish. please don’t say that i know i’m just like anyone else. that’s not my point #it means the world to me when people are gentle. makes me tear up. because i don’t deserve it #why are people so good to me when i’m frightened? why are people so sweet and romantic to me about my looks my talk my mad beliefs #really i should still be being forced about. i should be bruised and criticised. i don’t want to be— it terrifie(s/d) me— but. look at me.#if the world were reasonable i wouldn’t get a ‘no’ and i’d be bleeding from the nose right now. but i’m being handled gently and it still #dizzies me a little. surely people ought to be cruel to me? look at me. i’m unbearable

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starbuck · 2 years

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really wanted to add to those tags “and the way that puts Izzy in the Sacrificial Position” but i decided not to subject OP to that.

#at this point ofmd is not only asking me to import my bonkers Left Leg theories from Black Sails - they are on their knees begging me #i can’t NOT - it’s RIGHT there!!!!!!!!#i don’t wanna hear any nonsense black sails vs. ofmd discourse - fuck all of that - only LEG #all i wanna talk about is LEG #maybe soon i will actually explain my Black Sails Leg Theory in more detail but for now i’m just vibing #honestly it isn’t even a theory - it’s JUST vibes #but it’s REAL and it will GET you #and ofmd is sexy for bringing autocannibalism into the mix #because that’s symbolically true in Black Sails but ofmd goes the extra mile just to be SUPER on the nose #and i love that for them #and for me

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screampied · 4 months

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❛ TOO SWEET! ❜

geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.

total wc. 3.0k

warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise

an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…

he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”

“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.

choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.

choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.

he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..

it really was that bad…

“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”

“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.

it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”

your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.

one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.

he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.

“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”

“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”

his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.

“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”

geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”

“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.

and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.

geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.

“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.

you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.

“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”

he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.

his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.

“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.

the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.

“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.

it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.

his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.

“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.

geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“sweetheart..”

is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”

“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”

with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.

“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”

“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.

and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”

you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.

he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.

nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”

you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.

his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”

“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”

you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.

one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.

“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.

“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care.

the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.

eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.

yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji.

“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.

he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.

“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact.

his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”

and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.

his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.

“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.

his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm.

toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.

slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes.

he came early.

toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.

“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan.

“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.

“say what?”

he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”

“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face

“…you heard me, whore.”

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.

the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”

“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.

his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.

“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”

“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”

he was so desperate.

you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.

gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.

his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”

“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.

“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.

gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.

“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.

you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.

he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.

“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.

that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.

“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”

“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.

you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”

“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.

his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”

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goldeunoias · 4 months

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Tw:internalized racism? I guess?

#sorry I’m not answering asks right now Daisy is just. laying in bed feeling the sad sjsjsjsjsjsj #having self respect is easy. it’s having self love that’s the hard part.#my friends are gorgeous and pretty and so smart and amazing but it’s.#I can’t talk to them about how frustrating it is to be I guess the non-ideal poc?#they’re either white with straight noses and colored eyes or Asian and are able to hang out with and relate to other Asians #for me I don’t. have that Sjsjsjs I’m #a Lightskin or whatever but I don’t fit any of the black niches nor am I accepted by them bc I am nawt black enough for their ideals etc #so it just. leaves me feeling isolated #I went to a predominantly white school and university and it’s hard explaining to a group of white people the type of agony of not ever #really being the ideal race if that makes sense?#like if I like a guy I have to worry about oh well does he find black girls attractive would he be willing to date outside his race #bc for the record black guys do not. treat me nicely and berate me for not idk being their Rihanna baddie so I just have been so turned off #from them I don’t think I could ever date a black guy tbh #it gets even more nerve wracking when you’re a 21 year old virgin and your mom is just shoving black guys down your throat to date sjsjsjsj #but even if they say oh you’re pretty you’re gorgeous Daisy etc I just. can’t believe them bc they will always be the first choice. I won’t #and that just. it destroys me and eats away at me bc being different only works when you fit in #*sigh* I have no black people to talk about this to bc my sister is thicker skinned than I am I guess and my mom would just say just date #a black guy or get black friends when ✨they don’t even desire me✨#so I rant to my little tumblr blog and hope these feelings pass even tho I’ve been feeling this for about two months now #I cried during my graduation bc I couldn’t feel proud of myself and felt so demoralized. I graduated with a degree in biomedical sciences #and never had I felt more worthless #but sigh sorry lovies for posting this I just. aksksk I’m crying now argh but yah #Daisy is sad but hopefully I will answer asks tomorrow I see them #all and yall are so sweet 💕

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sugume · 3 months

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MOMENTS WITH YOUR PREGNANT BELLY w/Jujutsu Kaisen

( CW ) f!reader, reader is pregnant(duh), tooth-rotting fluff

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru

author's note: short rewrite from my old blog

☾ GOJO SATORU

"Toru, stop splashing my stomach!" you exclaimed at your playful husband, attempting to push the lukewarm bathwater onto your stomach, inadvertently splashing your face. "But she likes it, look!" he exclaimed with a huge smile as your daughter continued to kick your stomach. "I don’t need to look; I can feel it," you rolled your eyes. "Feels like she’s trying to break my ribs." You let out a little grunt when she kicks a particular spot. Satoru shoots a worried glance at you. "Are you alright?" he asks, rubbing smooth circles on your stomach. "I'm okay; she just keeps kicking the same spot," you gave him a small smile when he leans down to kiss your belly. "Hey now, take it easy on your momma, or no more splashes for you," he mummers to your stomach. As if your daughter understood, she stops and starts gently kicking in another area. "Look, Angel, she listened to me!" he exclaims before pushing more water into your stomach. "Toru! You got water in my nose!"

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO

"Are you okay, beautiful?" Toji inquired, concern evident in his eyes as he observes you holding your stomach with a furrowed expression. "Just a big kick from the baby," you struggle to get out, your stomach contracting. "C'mere--lemme make you feel better, baby," he whispered, sitting up on the headboard of the bed and pulling you between his open legs. "What are you doing, Toji?" You question as your husband reached towards the nightstand to grab something. "Makin’ my girl feel better–just lay down and relax," he whispers in your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. With the cramps becoming unbearable, you had no other choice but to obey. Eyes squeezed tight, body resting on Toji’s toned chest, you tense when he starts to gently massage your stomach with what feels like lotion. A moan of relief escaped you involuntarily. "That’s right, let me take care of you," he mummers, continuing the soothing massage.

☾ NANAMI KENTO

"Are you ready to taste heaven, babies?" Nanami smiles warmly at your stomach as if expecting your unborn twins to give a response. Quickly, he leans down and places two affectionate kisses on your stomach, one for each baby. "C'mon, Kento, ’m hungry!" you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Nanami was supposed to be giving you new food items that he found online, but the more he talks, the more it seems like he's eager for his children to be the taste testers rather than you. "You know they can’t actually give you a review, right?" you question your husband, but he ignores your sass and reaches for a plate. "Duh, ‘course I know that, but they're still going to taste it inside of you," he says as if it's the most obvious thing. "Yeah, all mashed up and mixed with a bunch of different foods. Now, give me that plate–I’m hungry!" you insist, reaching out for the plate as your husband laughs.

☾ GETO SUGURU

"I don’t think they like me," Suguru grumbles, and you laugh as your unborn child tries and fails to kick their father's head off your stomach. "Hell," Suguru yanks his head up and glares at your protruding stomach. "Hey, don’t cuss at my baby," you laugh. "I wouldn’t have to if my baby wasn’t trying to give me a concussion," he rolls his eyes dramatically before rubbing his calloused fingers on your stomach, The baby kicks at his hand. "Don't be so dramatic, Sugu," you roll your eyes at your husband as he continues to tease your child with his hand. "How do you think I feel when they’re kicking my bladder at three AM?" you laugh. "You better not come out as moody as your mommy," he taunts before pressing a soft kiss on your stomach. "I’ll give you whatever you want when you come out if you let me lay down in peace, deal?" he whispers to your stomach, and all he gets is a harsh kick. "Deserved.” You huff out.

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