Deceasedpotato



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    So Suguru’s moving to kiss him— big deal. His breath smells like alcohol, and Satoru should find it gross but he doesn’t. Suguru turns his chin just slowly enough for Satoru to change his mind, but all Satoru does it comply, letting Suguru’s hand guide him towards him with mischief in his eyes and a small smile, and it’s just not a big deal, they’re just fucking around: Satoru feels fully confident about the lightheartedness of this moment right up until the very second Suguru slots their lips together.

    /

    Or: One kiss is all it takes to make the dam crumble, to make Satoru ache for things he doesn't understand. All he craves is to keep taking pleasure from Suguru, and he can't seem to put together why Suguru's indulging him.

    Language:
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    09 Jan 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 62

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    Satoru's touch is as cool as it's warm, and Suguru's cursed energy is, apparently, as burning as it's the navy blue of a starry night. And he is bursting with nerves and the urge to kiss, and to bite, and to consume, to become - and he's as calm as ever, confident that their flesh had been crafted precisely for this: for this, this closeness, this unity, Satoru's palm against his cheek. All paradoxes circling each other like beta fish.

    He doesn't yet know where to go with it, Satoru's tender description of his very soul. He wishes he could say it back, that he could see the very essence of Satoru too rather then just feel it, like a blind man grasping at a great piece of art, trying to understand color just by feeling the ridges the paintbrush left. Instead, all he can think of is Blue, blue, blue of his eyes and blue of the cool touch of his hand and Blue of their power and of their curse and of their Infinity.

    All he think to say is, like a call, maybe like a prayer: "Satoru"

    //

    Or: Satoru's favourite color is one no one but him can see. Suguru's is blue.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    6,206
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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    265
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    02 Jan 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 28

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    Now, the edges of his mind blurred soft and fuzzy by smoke, there's that voice in the back of his head, chanting how no, he won't ever get married. All he's ever wanted is painted golden by the street lamps, eighteen years old, getting high on an abandoned bridge, and pretending he doesn't want him back just as devastatingly much.

    //

    "We're still sticking together, yeah?"

    "Of course." Despite this mess they've gotten themselves into here, in each other's arms, balancing on some cusp where they're not-quite lovers – Satoru doesn't even have to think about it. Of course, always, always.

    "Then I guess I won't have to miss it. It was never about the bridge, or the street, or the stars, was it? I just like it here because that's where you are."

    //

    Or: last summer before college, some things are long overdue

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    02 Jan 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 19

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    The tile under his knee is cold and his left sock is maybe sitting in something sort of damp, right next to the open dishwasher. His heart is beating wildly, and he’s dead serious.

    “Will you marry me?” He asks, sincerly, and Suguru’s eyes fly open as saucers when he catches sight of the ring.

    His lips part slightly in surprise, breaths coming and going in rises of his shoulder, slightly faster than normal.

    “You’re serious.” He mummbles, stunned.

    //

    Or: Satoru proposes, a little impulsively, and means every word.

    Series
    Language:
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    01 Jan 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 45

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    28 Dec 2025