#I came back there after five years

[bumblebee-cuttiefish]

We're trending again! Wohooo keep the tag alive guys #warriornun

[nappingmoon]

suguru x reader - nsfw

wc: 3.6k

suguru coming to see you after he defected from jujutsu tech. 🎀

a/n: i actually forgot that jjk is highschool and not college before writing this so with the power bestowed upon me on tumblr dot com i declare that this is an au where everything is the same except suguru defects when he's like 22 and not 17 okay thank you stay blessed

you're on the porch of your little apartment-- a luxury in this market. between your fingers hangs a little cigarette, a bad habit that you picked up after one too many nights spent in shoko's presence. regardless, the headrush that each drag brings is a welcome feeling. you hadn't seen suguru since before he defected, and he hadn't deigned to reach out. in the weeks leading up to the incident -a detached term, as if calling it 'the massacre' would be too real of a reminder- you had spent nearly every night with him. you were often sent on separate missions during the day and on the occasion that you did see one another in public, not much more than a simple greeting or casual chat was exchanged between the two of you.

at night, however, he always found a way into your sheets. before the fateful mission, what you had was fun. it was sexy and sneaky and exciting and your heart always raced at the thought of what he was going to surprise you with that night. after the mission, the moments turned slower, needier, more intimate. suguru started talking less, instead craving your moans and becoming more insistent on ensuring your pleasure. he wouldn't let you touch him as much, and he grew increasingly frustrated when you would try to push his head away from between your thighs before he made you cum at least twice. his mannerisms became less cocky and assured and turned frantic and anxious, like an animal who just barely managed to escape a predator and still can't figure out if he's safe or not. you tried to work your way in to his brain, his heart, but he only opened up in vague sentences or deflected to a different topic. teetering the line between concerned questioning and prying was difficult and you could tell that if you overstepped, it was likely that he'd withdraw completely. when you heard the news, heard about the incident, your heart dropped, but you can't say you were completely surprised. there's just been radio silence then.

when you feel a presence approach from behind you, you don't jump. there's no need. you know who it is and you've been expecting him. in honest, it took him longer to seek you out than you thought it would. suguru's form comes into your field of vision, body obscuring most of your view of the right side of the street. neither of you speak as he plucks the cigarette from your fingers. pinched between his forefinger and thumb, suguru brings the butt to his lips. you watch as he inhales, the burning red end of the cig sparkling as it works its way up towards his fingers. his lungs expand and it is enough to finish what you had left. he tilts his head up as he releases the smoke, taking a peek at the sky. though the city lights dimmed much of the sky's vibrancy, a few scattered stars still burned bright enough to hold an audience. he's gorgeous.

the last of the smoke is still wisping out of his mouth when he finally speaks, his voice gravelly. "you've got to stop hanging out with shoko. this shit will kill you." you huff an amused exhale and lean your head onto your propped arm, watching as suguru rubs the end of the dying cigarette into your railing and dropping the ashed remnants into your little strawberry themed ashtray.

"a bit late to start worrying about things that could kill me, isn't it, suguru?" you raise your eyebrow and look him up and down. he's skinnier and the bags under his eyes are ever present, but he holds himself a little higher than he has in the past weeks. tormented, but assured of his decisions. he's dressed in casual clothes, likely to keep a low profile and avoid run ins with any sorcerers on his way to you. "I heard you had a run in with satoru the other day, how are you?" what the two of you had was special, sure, but you knew that no one came above satoru in his eyes. they were an inseparable pair, heads and tails, yin and yang. the split can't have been easy at all.

"I made a choice," suguru starts, eyes blankly roaming over your street. he still hasn't looked you in the eyes. "and he made his. that's all there is to it."

you hum, unconvinced but also not willing to put up a fight you clearly had no shot at winning. "and so now you've come to see little old me? are you gonna try to convince me to join the official suguru geto fanclub? become a loyal member and kneel at your feet until the day i die?"

finally turning to you, he scoffs and a small smile graces his lips at your antics. "while you on your knees is one of my favorite sights, I know you. your morals would never let you join me." he says, and the word 'morals' comes out like an insult. even still, at his first words your head fills with images of the past and you adjust your position on the railing, legs crossing lightly. the movement doesn't escape his notice.

"if you didn't come to convince me to join you, then what did you come for? i could turn ya in right now. should do it to if only for the fact that you left without telling me." you turn away from him, annoyance rising at the memory of sitting in your empty room, feeling so heavily the lack of his pretty face and cat-like form splayed on your bed asking questions about your skin care routine and teasing you for the trinkets you still have as remnants of the phases you went through at fifteen.

suguru doesn't answer and instead goes inside, the duck under the door frame a habitual motion. you follow him inside, sliding your glass door closed behind you. he makes his way through your apartment, touching little things as he goes. he adjusts the picture frame that holds the photo of you, the other second years, himself, satoru, and shoko. he avoids looking at haibara's smiling face and continues on into your room.

before following him, you grab him one of his favorite bottled teas from your fridge. you always kept a pack for him, and last week you found yourself unpacking them from your trip to the grocery store before you even realized what you had done.

when you enter your room, you see him sat on the edge of your bed. you come to stand between his spread legs, cold drink in your left hand while your right comes up to trace around his face. you play with the little bang that he always keeps out of his bun. "are slut strands just allowed in your cult or are they mandatory?" you tease.

"ha ha." suguru replies dryly. "give me some of the tea, please." you crack the cap open and extend the drink towards his hand, but instead of receiving it, he grabs your hips. thinking he's just being lazy, you bring the edge to his lips, ready to pour it in for him. his lips stay sealed and he shakes his head. confused, you still for a moment befor- oh. oh. as the realization dawns on your face, he grins and gently nods.

the bastard wants you to spit it in his mouth. it's something that started out a long time ago as a joke and stuck around, you doing it to one another every so often. but now? "you can drink it yourself, dickhead." you say, but he digs his fingers into your hips, and keeps his lips together, the refusal crystal clear. you know you shouldn't-- he is currently a criminal of the highest order. he's killed innocents and shed the blood of those you have risked your life to protect. he is a million times more dangerous than the cigarette he chided you for earlier. and yet. and yet and yet and yet. the pressure of his hands on your hips is so familiar and you have missed it so much. he has filled the space in your apartment that he left behind and just seeing him here once again is making your heart thump. logically, you should run as fast as you can. instead, you bring the rim to your lips, let the cool liquid fill your mouth, and lean over. suguru brings one hand up from your hip, dragging it up your body before coming to rest on your face. you lean into the touch that you missed so much and allow him to bring your face to his, to bring your lips together. you let the tea pass from your lips to his and a bit spills down his chin. even so, he does nothing to stop it, and you aren't even entirely sure he noticed at all because as soon as the tea is done trickling into his mouth, his tongue comes into your mouth to tangle with yours. the hand on your cheek reaches around your head to press you closer into him. he takes the bottle from your hand and reaches down to place it on the floor before standing.

suguru is intoxicating. that is the only way you can describe him. with just a few kisses he has complete power over you. as he leans over to continue making out with you, you tug at his shirt, eager to run your hands across his skin again. you've missed the feeling so much. smiling into your kiss, he reaches down to grab the end of the cloth and bring it over his head, only separating long enough to get the shirt off before returning to you. he reaches down to grab the backs of your thighs and you jump, straddling him as you take his bottom lip between your teeth. you nibble softly, teasingly as you open your eyes to look into his. his pupils are blown and you know yours must be the same. he turns to face the bed, bringing his knee up and working his way up until he can lay you on your pillows. suguru cradles your head as he sets you on the bed, finally separating from you to lean back and get a good look at you. your spit shines on his lips as moonlight filters in through the space where your curtains don't quite close.

your chest rises and falls with vigor, finally getting an adequate air supply, but you itch to be close to him once again. you grab your shirt and rid yourself of it quickly, absentmindedly noting that it was actually one of the shirts he left at your place a while ago. you wore them when you missed him. (not a night passed in a shirt that wasn't his.) his fingers reach for the waistband of your shorts, grabbing the edge of your panties with them and working them down your legs. though standing for 10 seconds and ridding himself of his pants would have been easier, suguru shares your desperation for closeness and bends at the waist, laving at the hollow of your neck while shimmying out of his pants. your hands tug at his hair and run over the muscles of his back not minding the rustle of his body over yours because the weight over you was one you missed so much. when he finally kicks his pants and boxers off, he stays stuck to your chest, leaving a trail of little kisses in his wake. he makes it to your nipple where he presses one sweet kiss to the tip before taking it in his mouth and sucking. he moans at the feeling of your soft flesh in his mouth. you are an exquisite being and he truly worships every fiber of your existence. during the time he spent apart from you, he thought of this moment over and over. he moves over to your other nipple, sucking in marks on the way, making sure you are left with lasting evidence of his love. you gasp at the sting of his bite, looking down at where he laps at a small bead of red from where his teeth broke skin. over his broad shoulders, you can see where he grinds his hips into the bed, mindlessly seeking release while he focuses on his current devotion. your tummy swirls as he makes his way down, leaving little nips and hickies scattered in a pattern not unlike what he saw earlier in the sky. when he finally reaches your mound and presses a first kiss to your clit, you reach down and grab his face.

when suguru looks you in the eyes from his position between your legs, you swear he is only half registering you. he seems almost dazed, eyes glossy and head yearning to drop back down into your heat to give you the head of your life. before he can swat away your hands, however, you speak up, voice thick with need. "feel s'empty sugu." you whine, "need you in me now. it's been so long."

"but baby, need'ta stretch you out. need to make you cum and get you all ready t' take me. neeeed to taste you" he says, still fighting the hands that keep him up.

"i don't need it sugu. m' so wet. i promise. i need you to fill me up, 've missed it so much." this gets him out of his daze, and he begins to crawl back up to you.

"you need me that bad? yeah?" he whispers, hovering over you.

"mmhmm"

"needy girl got all soaked from just having me here, huh? you just need to be fucked this instant? my poor baby. i've neglected you too much." he starts dragging his dick up and down your folds, collecting your slick to make sure that he'll slide in easy enough. your nails grip on to his back, trying to entice him to put it in already. "okay baby, don't worry. i'll give you what you need."

suguru places a kiss to your cheekbone as pushes in. you both inhale at the sensation taking a moment to adjust. he slowly continues lowering himself in, murmuring small praises into your ear as you take all of him in. the stretch brings a twinge of pain, and likely would have been absent all together had suguru been allowed to give you the foreplay he wanted but the sense of love and tranquility that filled you as soon as he was all the way in was the closest thing you could get to heaven on earth. there was nothing in your heart, mind, or soul but love for the man taking over your senses.

sex with suguru varied a lot. nights after bars and parties were filled with giggly sex and lots of foreplay. after high adrenaline missions he was rough and experimental. if a teammate was seriously hurt or there was a casualty, he tended to need to be more dominant, finding solace in being able to control every aspect of your pleasure, from denying you your orgasm all night or overstimulating you and getting you to your peak more times than you could count. sometimes he liked to use toys, to tie you up, to let you tie him up. tonight though, he was tentative. he knew what you wanted and you were clear that you needed him, but the now that he was so close to you, the small, ugly voice of insecurity and shame inside bubbled up. shame for shutting you out, for his sins, for leaving, the list goes on. and so he uses each thrust into you as an apology. he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers between yours and pressing them into your mattress. his eyes were screwed shut because he wasn't sure that if he looked at your teary eyes he could keep his composure and he needed tonight to be about you, to make you feel good.

he's quieter than normal and you notice it. the turmoil is all too clear to you and you know that he needs you now more than ever. "s- suguru, baby, look at me. please."

he shakes his head in response and your heart quivers. he's still your suguru despite it all. "baby please. look at me. it's okay. i'm okay and you're okay and we are going to make it through this." you place kisses on his nose and cheeks as he eases the tension in his face, peeking at you. the second he gets a good look at you, sweat already starting to stick hair to your forehead and eyes so enamored they almost have hearts in them, he groans and his pace falters for a sec. "you're making me feel so good suguru, you know that? you're so good to me, handsome. i could never stop loving you." you praise. you'd continue, but he dips his mouth to yours, cutting you off. you arch your back, pebbled nipples grazing his chest and he groans into you unlacing your fingers and bringing his hand to pinch your nipples. your moans fill the room. his thrusts get faster and the little plaps of your hips when they meet turn into more forceful smacks.

your praise and the way you feel around him nearly fry suguru's brain. the voices in his head are loud, telling him he's undeserving of you and your love and he whispers his apologies into your skin. he's overwhelmed and he's tearing up but he keeps rolling his hips into yours as if the world would end if he stopped. you try to get his attention by calling his name or clawing a bit at his back but he's in deep. reaching down between you, you swipe at your folds with two fingers, gathering some of your wetness only to reach up and stick them into suguru's mouth. he can't apologize with your digits pressing down on his tongue and you take the moment to reinforce your love. "suguru, listen to me. I love you and you don't have to apologize. you did what you had to do and that's okay. I love you." you pepper kisses between your words, trying your best to get your message through to him. he finally looks you in the eyes again, your voice his saving grace. "hi, baby. you back yet?" you say.

suguru finishes sucking your fingers clean and pulls back. "yeah, thanks for getting me out of there. 'was spiraling a lil bit. sor-" you cut off his apology with fingers to his lips and a roll of your own hips.

"don't apologize. just be here with me." you push at one shoulder with your arms, and suguru understands, grabbing your hips and flipping you over. "'s this okay?" you ask, straddling his hips and beginning to ride him.

"so much better than okay, gorgeous. 's perfect." as you bounce up and down, suguru reaches up to play with your clit and you feel the nerves send shocks up your spine. he starts whispering things like "you are the best thing that has ever happened to me" and "you're so perfect, doll. all mine"

as you near your peak, your legs start to shake and burn. you whine at the at the decrease in friction that comes of your slowing hips and suguru takes this as his moment to pick things back up. with his hands lifting you, he gives himself enough space to prop himself up and get a strong base to thrust into you from below. with your sugu now taking the lead, everything is just more intense. you fold over, trying to kiss him but missing due to the sheer force with which suguru is moving your body. small 'ah's come from your mouth and you feel your toes curl as you are tipped over, a wave of pleasure washing over you. you tighten up and your muscles twitch as suguru continues thrusting, chasing after his release and following just behind you. he pulls your body to his, gripping you in a tight, tight hug as he spills into you. his legs give out from under him and you land together in a little heap of love, sweat, and limbs. his dick slips out of you and you already miss the sensation of being full, of being so close to him. for now though, you take the moment to catch your breath and to let your heart sync up with his. in a little, you two will get up and you will pee and brush your teeth side by side. when you come out, the bed will be clean and you will cuddle with your lover and be soothed into sleep by his slow breaths, grateful that you had at least this moment with him, sure that he'll disappear on you come sunrise.

in the morning, as the sun begins to warm your room, every logical thought is tell him to leave before you wake up. it will be easier to split without seeing your face, and talking in the morning will only create longer term attachment that has no place in the future he is building for himself and his girls. honestly, best case scenario would be you being so angry at him for leaving that you get over him all together. it is so simple!

so when he finds himself in your kitchen, making your eggs how you like them and pouring your cup of coffee in your favorite mug with just the right amount of milk in sugar, he's just as surprised as you are. and when you give him a kiss and sit in his lap and he sees the splotches of reds and purples that decorate your neck, paired with the little bit of drool from sleeping so well, he remembers why he didn't choose the easy route. where things will go from here is uncertain, but the outside world has no place in your apartment-- in his sanctuary. all that matters is your warmth in his arms and your lips on his.

[jojo-schmo]

Did anyone else get roped back into liking fnaf after the movie like that SpongeBob episode where Sandy lassos Patrick back to her and he explodes

[unforgivingchorus]

Think it’s underrated how when five was in the apocalypse and all he had was Viktors book to cling on to remember the family. It wasn’t a happy book. In 60 years as memories faded and deteriorated, what could have became memories tinted by nostalgia into something happier was grounded by the only physical remnant of them left. A sad book that realistically talks about how broken the family was. A book where the wallflower of the family drills into the cracks of the public images.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

do you ever just sit there thinking about your favorite ocs while violently shaking. god. clenches fist. They're So.

[hella1975]

just think this time tomorrow ill be publicly indecent in a spoons somewhere. i am so strong

[tenrose]

I hate living in this world.

[applejee]

what if i reread bnha and get obsessed with endhawks and the pro heroes again. return to my rich inner world

[front-facing-pokemon]

[kneworder]

some of you guys weren't raised on heroes (2005) and it shows

[aquariusxiv]

Elizabeth Sandford, Liz, my gorl.

Human Warrior blessed by Kormir, grew up in the Salma district with her older sister Deborah and adopted sister Petra. She didn't join the military like Deborah did but was talented enough with a blade to get work as a sellsword. She also did lots of other odd jobs in Divinity's Reach and around Shaemoor - giving her expertise with woodcutting, mining, foraging and farming, as well as the crafting disciplines though she has a strong preference for cooking, the job she did at Andrew's inn. Despite them not factoring into her personal story she does know the other story npcs in the Salma district - she had a crush on Faren when she was younger, and suspects Petra still does. Her nickname 'Liz' is based on how the dialogue with your sister calls her 'Debs' and I wanted her to have a similarly dorky nickname.

She's vaguely aware her family came from Ascalon after the Searing but considers herself fully Krytan. Deborah has an heirloom shield from around that time (Kryta's Embrace) but it went missing when Deborah did and they don't end up recovering it until the assault on Orr. She has fine chain armour she'll wear if she knows she's going into a big battle but otherwise dresses light in a layered vest. Despite not joining the military she's excited by the prospect of being a hero which is why she got involved with the centaur attack on Shaemoor and later on joins the Vigil.

Absolutely smitten with Trahearne after meeting him.

[imurasakaw]

first impressions

redstarling, 1.9k, set a little over 5 years ago. pre-relationship.

•••••••

When Jodie found Special Agent Akai, he was, as the Special Agent in Charge had blithely suggested with a wave of his hand, in the break room, smoking.

“You’re not supposed to smoke in here,” she said, feeling the irritation rising, her patience already frayed from a rankling encounter minutes ago out in the office area.

Agent Akai looked up from his phone, cigarette dangling from his lips, nonplussed. He was slouched against the wall next to the trash can. And as Jodie got a better look at him, she grew even more unimpressed. Long hair that came down just past the shoulders—against regulations. A well-worn leather jacket with some noticeable scuffs and tears—dress code violation. As for the smudges of almost bruised-looking shadows and sunken bags under his eyes, she uncharitably decided were likely due to late nights spent smoking and drinking himself into a stupor at a pub. She knew the type; she grew up around the type.

No wonder the SAC asked her to come fetch him—she might have a glowing recommendation from Assistant Special Agent in Charge James Black, but she was still just a probationary agent, and newbies got crap detail. And this man? This man appeared to be a real piece of work. She couldn’t believe someone like this was an FBI agent. She couldn’t believe someone like this could remain an FBI agent.

He hadn’t said a thing since she entered the room, eyeing her in silence instead. She shook her head to herself, and proceeded with what she was sent to do. “Special Agent Akai? The Special Agent in Charge is requesting you in his office,” she announced, putting her hands on her hips, trying to project authority. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your presence.”

The man tilted his head ever so slightly. “Who are you?” he asked.

Jodie took a quelling breath before replying. “I am Special Agent Jodie Starling. I’ve just been assigned here to the New York Field Office today.”

“Ho…” Akai dragged out the single syllable into an idiosyncratic expression of emotion that was, objectively speaking, neutral in tone, yet Jodie couldn’t help but sense a hint of derision. “You’re the new probie?”

She bristled at the belittling moniker, but bore it. It wasn't the first time and until she proved herself to everyone else in the office, it wouldn’t be the last; she knew that. “Yes.”

“How old are you?”

She frowned and crossed her arms, not liking where this was headed. “I don’t see how that is related to the issue at hand, or any of your business.”

“You seem young for this position. That’s all.”

This time, Jodie had to physically swallow down the defensive flare of temper that threatened to disrupt the evenness of her voice. In her mind, she heard all the insinuations that weren't being said. How did someone like you get this position? What connections do you have? Who did you have to bribe or fuck? “I assure you, they would not have assigned me to the Violent Crimes Unit of New York City had I not been qualified.”

Akai’s expressionless, studying gaze did not waver, and as Jodie stared right back, she was beginning to feel as though it was a competition, or perhaps a test, and she did not like it, not from this man who looked like he should model the “Before” picture of an agent rehabilitation program’s brochure.

Finally, just as Jodie had about had enough, Akai seemed to come to some conclusion within his own head, chin dipping in the slightest hint of a nod. “Can I call you Jodie?”

“You may call me Special Agent Starling,” Jodie snapped.

The corners of his lips ticked up, ever so faintly, and the realization hit Jodie that he was probably just trying to get a reaction out of her. It made her feel even worse, because she had met no shortage of men like that, had encountered a group of men like that just minutes ago, her new colleagues. Men who would never view her as their equal in competence and ability, who would bait and provoke and taunt just to see her lose her cool—and she had just lost this round with this Agent Akai.

And now that the root of anger and humiliation had taken hold, it was even harder to keep it in check.

“Well, if you’ve had your fun,” she forced, hearing the bitter tremor in her own voice and feeling the rising sting of indignation clog her throat with heat, “are you capable of following orders, or do I have to report back that Special Agent Akai could not be bothered to part from his nicotine fix?”

She took some measure of satisfaction at seeing Akai blink, his self-possessed composure disrupted for all but a second.

He paused to consider his next words. “I had not meant to insult you,” he said, almost carefully.

How farcical. “Hadn’t you?” Her words were clipped—as far as she saw it, he had not done anything to deserve courtesy.

His brows twitched in displeasure.

“You can go tell the SAC, then,” he said, looking away, “that I will be there soon”—he took another drag on his cigarette, and smoke furled out alongside his next blasé words—“if he has anything new to say to me this time.” 

And what she did then—she knew it was rude, beyond rude—but slapped in the face with that man’s flippancy and his flagrant insubordination against a superior’s demand that would’ve gotten most disciplined if not fired, her self control splintered.

She strode forward in four brisk steps and yanked the lit cigarette from his mouth.

She would later learn that, at that time, Akai had just come off of a three-month-long deep undercover stint in a local crime ring, and that it was with an adamantine force of will that he managed to smother a reflex for violence into a barely-there flinch, but in that moment, she attributed his lack of response as yet another sign of either his ineptitude or his total disdain for her. The flicker of surprise in his eyes had been quickly suppressed, and he regarded her now with stony composure, as though an adult rebuking a wild, recalcitrant child: What do you think you’re doing? His hand that had been raised to his mouth, now empty, fell slowly into a crossed-arm position across his chest.

“You…” She wanted to scream. Am I not enough for any of you to even take me seriously? Is a child all you’ll treat me as?

Then, a more sombering thought struck: Is that all I am acting like? A child? Throwing a tantrum because she isn’t being noticed?

The cigarette in her hand kept burning in the severe silence—until the lit end finally singed her skin. 

The sudden pain wrenched her fully back to reality.

“I—” she began, the steam of her anger lost, a train sputtering to a stop. She took one step backwards. The cigarette lay on the linoleum floor between them, where she had dropped it in shock. “Agent Akai, I apologize,” she made herself say, face hot with shame. “My actions just now were totally out of line.” 

Her father had always told her, ever since she could remember, to not let anyone tread all over her; however, he had also taught her that, when the injury was not grievous, a noble person knew to turn the other cheek. And, divested of her father’s presence so early in her life, she had tried hence to cling hard onto every word, every doctrine, his teachings all the more precious for its scarcity. Her anger had just made her lose sight of it all, and now she stood there, beating herself up.

Something in Akai’s flinty demeanor softened.

He extended a hand, palm up, and she realized he was asking for the cigarette back. She swallowed, her pride balking against the act. But, there was no denying it, she thought; the one squarely in the wrong here was her.

She knelt and picked up the still-lit cigarette, and passed it over. 

As he plucked it out from between her fingers, on his hands, she saw knuckles that evidenced years of regular martial arts training and combat, saw scars and old injuries and gun calluses. 

This close, she can tell that her previous assessments of the agent, colored by personal animus and prejudice, had been wildly incorrect. Contrary to what she had assumed to be the case, she could now see that Akai was well-built under that scuffed leather jacket, and the marks on his hands said that this wasn’t a body cultivated in a gym to be looked at but something to be used. Even his slouch, indolent though it might seem, was controlled. It brought to mind the image of a panther—it might lounge lazily up on the branch of a cypress tree, but its muscles would always be ready to coil and pounce.

This was not some derelict who fancied himself a tough, daredevil guy—this was a true field agent, through and through.

Hadn’t she fallen prey to the very thing she hated others doing to her?

She swallowed again, and tasted something that was not quite humiliation and not quite apprehension. She forced herself to look up and meet Akai’s eyes again, but there, instead of the reprobation or animosity she had expected, she found with surprise a hint of a smile.

She noticed suddenly how startlingly green his eyes were, and how, when not overshadowed by a dour expression, his features, angular and striking and sharp, were exceptional.

“Well, as you said,” he said, “I am not supposed to smoke in here.” He reached to the table beside him for a plastic cup that held about a half-inch of water, and dropped into it the cigarette he had just gotten back. The cigarette fizzled and went out. Then, he tossed the whole thing into the trash. “So, how about we say the blame here was fifty-fifty”—he reached out a hand, and that ghost of a smile solidified into, nearly, a real one—“and call it even, Agent Starling?”

He did not have to give her an out, nor offer her the olive branch. But here he was, extending a hand to her, affording her the choice of whether or not to accept. 

I had not meant to insult you, he had explained, and she had spat in his face, thinking it a flimsy cop-out. Now she thought she might have been incorrect in her judgment of that, too. Perhaps she had just gotten too ingrained in the habit of looking for mockery, even when there was none.

She reached out and grasped his hand. His shake was firm, and his hand, unlike how the man himself had seemed at first sight, was warm. “Agent Akai.”

He nodded at her, once, in acknowledgment, in respect. “Welcome to the team.”

•••••••

[extra snippet, probably takes place during/after they work on a case together.]

“You need not be so defensive. You’re better than the majority of the rest of them out there. You have nothing to prove.”

“You don’t get it.” Of course he didn’t; he didn’t have people whispering behind his back that he only got here because he’s pretty and fucking someone higher up the line. Probably. “Proving myself and establishing myself as an outstanding agent is the only way I can get access to the files and data and resources that I need.” Realizing how that might sound, she added, “There’s someone that I’m looking for. That I need to find.”

The moment she mentioned that she’s on the hunt for someone, his demeanor shifted, ever so slightly.

“Long-lost family member?” he suggested, casually, but she thought she could hear an undertone of intrigued commiseration. 

“No,” she replied flatly. “The opposite. The woman who murdered my entire family.”

[elenadoeslife]

your first love hits different

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

People saying Shoko is the only one left from the time she was a highschool student; wrong

I mean. Kinda. It depends on how you see it ?

Ijichi was here y'know ? He might have not been as impacted as the others about Haibara's death and Geto's.. becoming a mass murderer genocidal cult leader doubt that. He must have been impacted has well even if he wasn't as close to them as the others were. He knew them for less time but it's still a shock. But he was there. He witnessed it happening to his senpai. He was here when Gojo and Shoko and later Nanami graduated.

Shoko and Ijichi are the only one left from this generation

[montanabohemian]

so yesterday i had someone comment on a post i made on IG telling me how "offended" they were because i'd simply ended my post with the phrase "end the occupation and free palestine." so much of what they said was actually insane racist islamophobic bullshit and they managed to end their comment by calling all muslims terrorists and literally parroted the "they want to kill americans" fucking horseshit.

the person that made this comment was by someone i've literally known since grade school. i'm not close friends with them but i've gotten to know them over the years and never once thought they'd say anything like this. i actually thought it was a bot account for like a full minute.

i'm sadly not surprised at the rhetoric because that's where we are. we're right back to twenty years ago during the post 9/11 / war in iraq / war on terror fervor kicked off. i'm just. i had to fight this shit twenty years ago and here we are all over again, except this time with the added benefit of fucking social media.

if simply saying "free palestine" is so inflammatory for you, then that is your fucking problem to work through.

[maedhbros]

literally all i want from rings of power is a good sauron. fuck up the lore all ya want, squish 2k years into 20 i don’t give a fuck as long as i get to see my boy hot af doing queen shit being an asshole all over the place & causing chaos. if they do him wrong i swear on the valar i will physically take a dump on the showrunners’ lawns do not test me