#Sakura Code

[sakura-code]

💜Master Post💜

This is the main blog for my posts dedicated to fanfics and AUs of Master Detective Archives: Rain Code, my new hyperfixation. Here, there will be headcanons and lores of fanfics and AUs that I will be creating in the future (hopefully this year while I’m still hyperfixated on the franchise). Some might be reblogs from my main blog since I didn’t think I was to be so obsessed or make so much fanfics and AUs (it’s not a lot, but they tend to be big that it changes the canon events). But I’m excited to release my imagination here as well.

When my stories are posted, they will be on Ao3 under my account Elina_Sakura.

NOTE: Unlike the main blog, I will not be censoring spoils from the game since many of the AUs has spoilers already. So you have to have played the game if you want to come here.

ASKS ARE OPEN! You may submit prompts or questions about the Master Detective Archives AUs I created, or anything Master Detective Archives related. These topics only though, please, because I want to keep my blog organized in Sakura-Code.

Masterlist

Headcanons

Characters

Yuma Kokohead

Halara Nightmare

Desuhiko Thunderbolt

Fubuki Clockford

Vivia Twilight

Yakou Furio

Kurumi Wendy

Makoto Kagutsuchi

Yakou’s Wife

Miscellaneous

Nocturnal Detective Agency Age

Eyesight if living in Kanai Ward

LGBTQ+ Headcanons (Detectives + Kurumi + Makoto)

Kurumi Wendy (Character Expansion)

AUs

Misfit AU Where all of the Nocturnal Detective Agency are contracted to Shinigami and work together to solve the mysteries that threaten the world and themselves, while being a family of misfits together against the hard adult world.

Revival AU The Detectives that died from the Amaterasu Express Massacre are revived as Homunculi by Dr. Huesca and Yomi Hellsmile, and become enemies toward the Nocturnal Detective Agency.

Dual Swords AU Yuma and Makoto are both amnesiac detective-in-training brothers who are contracted with the God of Death, Shinigami, to solve Kanai Ward’s Ultimate Secret.

Homunculus Yuma AU What if Yuma had died in the sub explosion, and was revived into a Homunculus by Makoto.

Yuma Furio AU Where Yuma is Yakou’s adopted son and has lived in Kanai Ward back when he was a teen, and now returns to save the city that saved him.

Death Detective AU Where Yuma is known as the elusive grim reaper detective known as the Death Detective and finds familial love for the first time in years.

Peacekeeper Yuma AU What if Number One’s plan to enter Kanai Ward as Yuma Kokohead has fallen apart? Where Yuma ends up in the hands of the Peacekeepers and turn into one of them as their executioner.

Haunting AU A half-modern/half-paranormal AU where the world is haunted by ghosts and the NDA are ghost hunters. Inspired by Lockwood & Co.

Twin CEOs AU Where Yuma and Makoto are both the CEOs of Amaterasu Corporation, and will do anything to protect Kanai Ward, its citizens (well most of them), and each other.

Rain Code Swap AU A character swap AU where the NDA characters and the Peacekeeper characters swap roles, but their personalities and morality stays the same, with Yuma and Makoto still in the same roles.

Original Characters

Sosuke Orbarrow

Akio Smokes

Emi Wendy (Kurumi’s mother)

[101suouexpressions]

You know the friendship is real when your first instinct against danger is to protect the group's little puppy.

This is one of the scenes that I adore SO much. You can tell that both Suou and Sakura made the decision to shield Nirei subconsciously. This is so important because usually Sakura would charge into the battlefield and leave Nirei in the care of Suou since he was aware that Suou could do that with ease.

The look of surprise on their faces when they saw the other doing the same thing is so priceless. I think at that moment they really realised how much they had grown on each other.

[officialmiintee]

wind breaker / the most beautiful moment in life

[togament]

“𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝: ‘𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐬?’”

written in their P.O.V.

pt. 1. (sakura, ume, suo.)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : spicy spicy boyfriends, suo is a FREAK (but we love it), sakura is a precious bean, ume is *incomprehensible sounds emanating from my face hole*, ume’s is longer than the others (hah) i got carried away, swearing ofc i can’t express emotions without them i so sorry i do try, fem!reader, nipple talk.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

"WHAT-????" I scream into the microphone and it screeches. shit my face feels like it's on fire. I turn my head slightly to catch my reflection in the window beside me--SHIT I'm blushing again. "w-why would you ask me that?!", I try my best to tone it down a little but UGH-I can't help it. She asks the question again, pushing the microphone towards my lips. I angle away as best I can but she's persistent. "n-n-not answering that!" my eyes focus on anything BUT her. darting everywhere, on the chair, the stack of papers on her table, but she's too hard to resist. i turn my head slightly to look at her direction. fucking hell, she's got her chest out slightly, tits practically begging me to look at 'em. god. that shirt looks so fucking good on her. that the new one she just bought? shit, she's coming closer. I can see the outline of her bra--FUCK-WAS I STARING?????

...so boobs?" she asks so smugly. damn it.

"...yeah tits." HER tits, if you want me to be specific.

𝐔𝐌𝐄.

another afternoon, another quick little date with the love of my life — and my girlfriend. kidding, kidding! I was tending to my veggies as I often do after school with my girlfriend helping. noticing her absence (and silence, shocker!) I call out for her, “baby? where’d you run off to?” then I hear a little giggle to my left, a pitter patter of her shoes against the wooden board and a slight ringing. “boobs or butts?” she asks and I turn to face her only to have a mouthful of the plastic microphone. “PWEH-! baby-“ I say as I chuckle, wiping my mouth. “boobs or butt? is this an interview? any cameras around?” looking around playfully, I crane my neck around her. for a sec there I genuinely thought I was on camera. but then I look at her and she’s waiting for an answer. Hmm. Toughie. “This!” taking one of my gloves off, I pinch her cheek with my clean hand but she shakes her head. “Not in the choices, babe. Try again.” she says. gosh she looks so cute when she’s trying to be serious. “Wrong answer, huh? Let’s see…”

I try my damndest to be serious too, pursing my lips in deep thought, giving her a once twice thrice over just to be extra sure. I know she’s squatting there waiting for me to answer but how can I? she’s perfect in every way! shoot. think, ume, think! I drag my gaze from her face, to… her chest, heh. nice. to her tummy, to her… oh. damn. right.

“…yer thighs.” I say almost quietly. Who WAS that? “say that again, babe?” she asks, pushing the microphone closer. she wants me to say it again? maaaan. I chuckle, shaking my head gently at her.

“can I just show you? point at it, baby?”

“nope.”

HECK.

“…yer thighs. I like napping on them after I’m done gardening…” I unintentionally trail off. I clearly got more things on my mind now. My mind’s miles away from innocence. God- I love leaving my mark on them, sucking hickies on them when I’m going down on her. I fucking love it when she tightens them around my head when she’s about to cum. She worries she’d suffocate me but it only makes me want her more. I swallow dryly. damn it-my boner’s tenting in my jeans and I know she can tell.

“and?” she prods and I let out a shaky breath. she’s biting her lower lip, shifting her weight while she’s squatting. she’s worked up too huh?

“—obsessed. when you hold me closer to your cunt when-“ is it getting hotter here? she’s putting her microphone down. I take my other glove off while keeping my eyes on her.

“…when what?”

“can I please show you? pretty please?” can’t help it. I take her free hand to palm me and I let out a soft whimper, eyebrows knitted together.

“yes. yes please.”

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

"oh? someone's curious," leaning close to her, I ghost my fingers along the inside of her wrist just to fluster her. oho, her breathing is staggered now, chest rising and falling ever so slightly. I do have an answer but I just want to toy with my love. Just a little bit wouldn't hurt. "what's gotten you worked up so quickly, dove?" I purr, making sure to whisper it good in her ear. she lets out a shudder, almost melting. goodness, do I adore how she reacts. like clockwork, that earns me a gentle slap on my hand. ah. I suppose I deserved that.

"boobs or butt, huh?" I pretend to ponder, looking up and pinching my chin for maximum effect, knowing full well I have an answer set and ready. turning to meet her eyes, holding her hand that's steadily holding the plastic microphone. and with the most serious voice I could muster, I speak into it, "your nipples."

hm. that must have shocked her. she's silent. taking the initiative, I continue, "I love how.. sensitive they are." cooing, I trace a finger along her jaw and down the line of her neck, featherlike. "I love how I can coax the most delicious moans from you that way--" oh, she's lowering her microphone now. continuing, I push some hair behind her ear, fingers now teasing the shell of it, "--you seem to like it especially when I suck on one while I roll the other between my fingers. fuck, you sound so beautiful when you beg for more." mhm. her breathing's shallow now. she's leaning her head away. "someone's eager." I lean in to press a gentle kiss to her neck, lingering my lips on her pulse. “do you need more details from me? I could always elaborate-“ she’s pushing me back now. I like where this is going.

"screw the interview. just fuck me already, hayato suo."

"as you wish, my dove."

a/n: SCCCCCRRREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! first time writing things in the guys’ POV I hope I did each of their individual personalities justice. Sakura’s was the hardest but I was flying off with Ume as you could tell. Also!!!! I forgot who it was but someone reblogged one of my HCs with a tag saying Hayato means hawk and that doves are their natural prey and 😳😳😳😳😳😳 that was purely unintentional but the connection they made was so perfect. I’m making it a permanent fixture for whenever I write for suo. Thank you, user. I would tag you but djjfkdkfkd i hope you see this!!!! Also thank YOU so much for reading all the way to the end btw!!!!!! Ily babycakes. part 2 coming soon! I WANNA WRITE FOR KIRYU I HAVE IDEAS AND I AMDJFJJDJD HE. Ok.

@interstellar-inn ⭐️

[apparently-artless]

Sakura, I heard what you did on the main street. And you saved Sasaki today. Thanks for protecting our family. I'm glad to have such a reliable new little bro! WHO WENT AND MADE YOU MY BIG BRO!?

Wind Breaker Episode 04 - Big Bro Hajime and Lil Bro Haruka

[arget-star]

That Old Familiar Lie

Sakura Haruka x F!Reader

Summary: After Sakura comes home from a tough fight, you wake up beside him and realize just how much you love him. Or, first time love confessions, lots of tears, and the good old waking up beside each other trope. (Sakura and reader are in their 20’s! He has graduated from Furin)

tags: fluff, mentions of knife wound but nothing graphic, mentions of blood, canon-typical injuries really, reader cries a lot, sakura cannot vocalize his feelings normally

a/n: ummmmm ch 169 made me fall in love with this series all over again and the look on his face in that panel is the cause of this. iykyk. title taken from the calendar, the energy (if this is you then woe is me) by matthew thiessen and the earthquakes

wc: 2.8k

You’re not sure what pulls you out of slumber. A strip of shifting sunlight filtering in through the gauzy curtains, maybe, or an unshakable urge to check in on Sakura. Last night’s fight was a rough one; he’d stumbled home early, blood-splattered and bruised, one suit sleeve torn. Vaguely, you recall dreaming about him and his dozens of small injuries. The details are hazy. Something about bleeding out on your couch while you fruitlessly applied pressure on the wound.

Slowly, you blink your eyes open, bleary gaze landing on Sakura’s still-sleeping form. Relief soothes the last rough edges of your nonsense dream. Good, you think. He needs his rest.

Sakura’s all loose curves in sleep—body slightly arched forward, left arm tucked underneath his head, legs bent at the knee. His right arm has migrated from also supporting his head to resting atop your waist. Black hair obscures his face, longer strands fluttering with each measured exhale from between parted lips.

The rest of your dream-induced worry fades as understanding sinks in: he’s alive and mostly in one piece.

A large white patch covers his right cheek. Smaller butterfly bandages mar his chin and nose. Your attention drifts down, following the slope of his shoulder, where a line of white peeks out from underneath the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.

While patching him up, he’d outline the broad strokes of last evening’s brawl. A group of men attending Pub Ougi’s show decided to prove they were still just as tough and rowdy as they’d been in high school. Bastards, Sakura had muttered as you cleaned his split knuckles. Thinkin’ they can impress people by actin’ shitty. Shoulda kicked ‘em out from the start.

A few rounds of beer did nothing to improve the situation, and by the time Roppo Ichiza finally stepped in to escort the former delinquents away, all hell broke loose. Nothing out of the ordinary, until one man pulled a knife. Not a small pocket knife, either, but the kind meant to cause serious harm.

You know Sakura’s line of work is dangerous. You know he’s fought tooth and nail his entire life. And you know he will handle whatever’s thrown his way. Yet sometimes, seeing the physical evidence of all he puts himself through makes your heart ache. What was he like, before the world told him he was wrong? Before he expected cruelty in place of kindness? How old was he when he was forced to place all his worth into his fists?

That casual heartlessness is something you’ll never understand. Loving Sakura is the easiest thing in the world.

Carefully, so as not to disturb him, you scoot closer, then wiggle your arm free from the weight of the blankets and his own limb. Sakura shifts, knees brushing yours, but doesn’t stir. You wait until he settles completely before reaching your hand up, fingertips tenderly sweeping soft strands of black hair off his forehead. A tiny cut reveals itself above his eyebrow.

The ache in your chest grows.

He’s so serene when he’s asleep. No tension creases his brow, no scowl curls his lips. It’s almost as if his body knows this is the only time he won’t have to fight for his existence. Your fingers still. Tears well unbidden along your lash line and you rapidly blink them away. This is far from the first time you’ve seen the injury-laden aftermath of a fight. Putting him back together has become a routine.

Perhaps your tears are a result of too many little things piling up—his casual nature about being injured, the soft, thoughtful way he looks at you when you’re applying antiseptic. The way his arm had curled around your waist before he drifted off, fingers twisting in the fabric of your shirt in silent gratitude.

Or, that little voice in your head whispers, in a plea to stay by his side.

You immediately push that voice aside. The very notion of breaking his heart by leaving is unthinkable. Despite your best efforts, a tear slips from the corner of your eye, dripping over the bridge of your nose and eventually into the hair at your temple. Mentally shaking yourself, you will the rest of the stupid tears away. The last thing Sakura needs right now is to wake up and find you crying.

So you force your fingers to resume their slow card through his hair. A few pieces refuse to lie flat, much like the two strands that perpetually stick up from his part. You hope he never loses those boyish casts to his features. It’s endearing, if a little heartbreaking, those final, clinging pieces of a lost childhood.

“I love you,” comes your soft whisper. Three words he most likely can’t hear in the land of the waking without turning a concerning shade of red. In his dreams, however, you hope his reaction is a bit less volatile.

Some minutes later, Sakura’s face scrunches. On instinct, your fingers still once more, allowing him time to register his surroundings as he rouses. A few heartbeats pass, and then his blue eye peels open, a piece of the post-dawn sky. “Good morning,” you say softly, lips twitching into a smile.

His cheeks, predictably, flush a delicate shade of pink, making the bandages stand out starkly in comparison. “Mornin’”, he returns, voice thick with sleep. “What’re ya doin’?”

The hand on your lower back has not moved, you note. His muscles remain loose, too, as if holding on to the last dregs of sleep. “Playing with your hair.” Honesty, when it comes to physical touch, is the best approach with him. Especially in regards to any physical features, such as his hair. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

His eyebrow twitches. Shock flickers like lightning across his expression. You begin retracting your hand, only for Sakura to make a noise of protest. “Ya don’t have to stop.” A pause. His blush darkens. “‘N quit worryin’. Didn’t wake me,” he assures without annoyance. Eye closing, he yawns, though you have a sneaking suspicion he’s faking it to hide the clear, desperate want for a loving touch so evident moments ago.

Normally, you’d almost laugh, but this time it just makes your throat tighten uncomfortably. You oblige with comment, idly twirling silken strands between your fingers. The faint scent of his shampoo wafts towards you. “How are you feeling?”

Both eyes open this time. You can just make out the glint of gold mostly obscured by white bangs, the sun bursting behind clouds. Before he can answer, a real yawn cuts him off—you can tell by the way his jaw cracks this time. “Fine.” Underneath the sheets, he stretches out his legs, uncurling his spine, then freezes, mouth pinching in a grimace. “….still sore.”

It strikes you with sudden clarity how incredibly lucky you are to see Sakura at his most vulnerable. More than that; to so utterly hold his trust that he no longer thinks twice about having you by his side. Emotion swells within you. “Fighting off drunkards in your sleep?” You tease, though your voice comes out slightly strained.

Sakura picks up on it. His hand tightens in your shirt, knuckles brushing against the notches along your spine. “What’s wrong?”

The intimacy in that question threatens to undo you. Even now, years removed from that emotionally scarred boy of fifteen, he often struggles with more in-depth conversations. Not from a lack of desire to have them; little experience coupled with the inability to articulate what he’s thinking without resorting to anger makes him easily frustrated. (In your heart, you understand the hurt little boy living inside his head expects a hostile reprimand for voicing his thoughts.)

Your bottom lip trembles. Panic makes him life his head, your hand dropping lifelessly onto the mattress between you. “Whuh—are you hurt? Why’re you cryin’?” Mistaking the cause, he quickly lifts his arm off your waist. Cool air rushes in, replacing his warmth, and now the tears spill.

Pushing yourself upright, you wipe frantically at your cheeks, tucking your knees up against your chest. “I-I’m sorry, Sakura,” you hiccup. “I was thinking about you, and the knife, and—” You sniffle, cutting yourself off. There’s more, of course, but it’s enough for him to deal with your sobs. Everything else can wait.

Sheets rustle as Sakura sits up as well, all traces of grogginess and lingering pain replaced with an earnest discomfort. You feel his eyes on you, sense his helplessness. “The knife?” He asks, like he barely remembers it himself. Like it’s of so little consequence, he can’t possibly imagine why that, of all things, would set you off.

Whatever it is, his question pulls a half laugh, half sob from your chest. He must think you’re going crazy; yet he scoots closer, hand alighting awkwardly on your shoulder. He’s trying. The small effort speaks volumes, your shoulders relaxing under his weight.

No one has ever cried over him—not like this, at least.

What does he even ay in this situation? He can’t fistfight whatever crazy thoughts are whirling around your head. “’M alright,” he eventually settles on, shrugging his right shoulder as if to prove it. “Hardly even stings.” (A lie; the bandages tug uncomfortably along the large scab on his bicep.)

Your body continues to shake. There’s no hint of that fond, exasperated smile you give him when you know he’s playing it cool. Sakura frowns; in his defense, it looked a hell of a lot worse than it felt. The image of your stricken face when he’d walked in, suit sleeve torn and stained red, flashes in his head. His frown deepens.

His thoughts feel sluggish—he’s in desperate need of another hour or so of sleep and a good, filling meal after. But your lack of response finally makes something click. Whatever’s causing this outburst is about more than just the knife wound.

Anything he can think to say or do feels woefully inadequate. With his free hand, he rubs the back of his neck, ignoring the discomfort radiating along his arm. What would you say? You make this shit look so easy. Cautiously, he pats your shoulder. “….I’m here. And…I’ll try bein’ more careful?” This last comes out like a question, his voice rising not because he’s lying, but because he’s unsure how to stem your flood of tears. Soothing people has never really been his strong suit.

Your breathing hitches. Peeling your head up, you stare at him, tears sticking to your bottom lashes. Sakura quickly averts his gaze, however, fingers dig into your shoulder in silent reassurance. It grounds you, oddly enough. With a rather loud sniff, you give him a watery smile.

“Promise?”

“Hah?” He fixes his attention on you, heterochromatic eyes flashing in the early morning sun. “If some bastard comes at me with a knife, I’ll try not to get hurt—” He stops. Shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts.

You watch those two strands of hair—one black, one white—at his part wobble with the motion. Your smile grows. Sakura clears his throat and starts over.

“I ain’t gonna stop runnin’ into fights. It’s my job, and I’m good at it. But I…I don’t like seein’ you upset, okay? So yeah, I promise I’ll try t’be more careful.”

Another tear slips down your cheek. Before you can rethink it, you lean forward, burying your head against his chest. A surprised noise escapes him and you imagine the confused look on his face. All that’s important right now, though, is the rapid beat of his heart underneath your ear and the knowledge that he understood what you didn’t say. You wrap your arms around him, willing yourself to calm down.

“Haruka,” you say, just as he’s slowly returning your embrace. He pauses. You hear him swallow.

“Yeah?”

After a deep inhale, you pull away enough to look at him directly. “…I know you do your best. I don’t care that you come home injured, so long as you come home.”

“Then—”

“It’s just hard seeing someone I love always hurt! I hate that for your entire life, you’ve had to fight!” You don’t mean to raise your voice. Sakura isn’t expecting it, either, blinking in the wake of your eruption. “S-sorry. I’ve never said anything because I don’t ever want to worry you.”

Sakura turns very, very still, an unreadable expression on his face. Red creeps up the tips of his ears, down along his throat, disappearing beneath his t-shirt. “Love?” He repeats carefully. Like he’s never said it before and only now can form the shape of it.

Someone loves him enough to cry when he gets hurt? How often do you sit on the worn couch, staring at the front door, wondering what state he’ll be in when he walks in? It’s almost too much for him to bear. He feels on the verge of tears himself.

Oh. You did say that part out loud, didn’t you? A slow nod as your own blotchy cheeks color a uniform pink.

“You—sayin’ that you—gah!” He pulls you into his chest, this time, resting his pointed chin atop your head. Distantly, you appreciate the fact he didn’t push you away so he could go hide while processing this little development. A tremor runs through him; you squeeze your arms ever so slightly. Just to let him know you’re not going anywhere.

He’ll never admit how grateful he is for the reminder.

“I’ve had to fight. It made me strong, ‘n now I can protect others who ain’t strong enough to do it themselves.” Sakura’s breathing heavily, pushing through the natural urge to run to instead offer you his heart on a silver platter. “I can keep you safe. So stop apologizin’ for feelin’ that way! ‘Cause I don’t wanna have anyone else patch me up, got it?”

In other words: I love you, too.

There’s no real outrage in his voice; it’s that old familiar defense mechanism roaring to life, ready to protect his tender heart should this all turn out to be some awful trick.

“Got it,” you reply through a sniffle. The uncurable ache taking root in your chest all morning finally subsides. It’s not gone altogether; a tiny piece of your worry and grief for the life he never had rests in a small corner of your heart, ready to bloom should you give it cause.

And that’s perfectly fine with you. You’ll never stop caring about those things, because you’ll never stop loving him. Tears slowed, you gradually disentangle yourself from his hold. Sakura releases you as well, and you think you detect a hint of relief in the way he leans back. There is only so much physical touch he can handle for a prolonged period of time.

You swipe at your cheeks, your nose. You should probably get up and wash your face, if only to allow him a moment’s peace from your emotions. That contemplative look he gets when rapidly sorting through his own thoughts is on his face.

“I mean it. I lo—”

He flinches, fisting the sheets in his hands, and you immediately bite back the words. Yikes; maybe you pushed him too far. You wait, patient, occasionally wiping away any straggling tears.

“I know you meant it,” he replies after some moments. “Jus’ not used to anyone sayin’ it.”

His throat works as he swallows. Now that you’ve calmed down, you wonder just what kind of memories you unintentionally dredged up. He’s never mentioned the tiny details of his life before Furin, and you’ve never asked. It doesn’t matter, anyway. You resist the urge to cup his cheeks.

Sakura used to long for someone like you. He’d pass by people on the street, hear them cheerfully profess their love to their kids, their partner, whoever was on the other end of their phone call. He always wondered how they could say stuff like that without thinking twice. It’s embarrassing, and never failed to make him want to crawl out of his skin, even while a piece of him wished he could be normal, like all those mushy people.

Now you’re here, and he flinches. And you just sit there, quiet, letting him work through all the bullshit he can’t quite shake, and he feels like he’s about to burst into a million pieces. A broken tightrope and a field of flowers flit across his mind’s eye. “Not mad ya did. Don’t know if I’ll get used to it, or when I’ll say the same. All I ask is….give me time.”

“Of course,” you breathe, nearly bursting into tears all over again. You want nothing more than to reach out for him, but he’s clearly reached his threshold for the time being. “I need to wash my face. After, I was thinking about pancakes for breakfast.”

“Yeah, sounds fine.” Amazing, how you can let him off the hook so simply. He releases his death grip on the sheets. On impulse—or possibly out of sheer human want—raises his arm and crosses the scant distance between you, thumb removing the last stubborn tear on your cheek.

As the heat of him seeps into you, you know with absolute certainty that you never need to hear him say those three words. He tells you in other, more important ways.

[twinkfrottage]

CASH APP | TIP JAR

[littleplantfreak]

Silly/Clumsy WB boys HCs

I see hcs like this and theyre always fun/make me laugh o(｀ω´ )o

Sakura’s food went down the wrong pipe at a restaurant and when the waiter asked if it was because it was too spicy, he insisted through coughing and tears that that definitely wasn’t the case (he could tell they didnt believe him though)

Tsugeura sometimes lets one rip by accident when he’s exercising. Not even a little fart either, the kind that stops everyone from what they’re doing.

One time Nirei stubbed his toe so hard, he fell and grabbed onto the nearest object. Unfortunately that was the back of Sakura’s pants, making him accidentally moon a few people in class.

Word recall is hard sometimes. So when Choji calls an ambulance a ‘hospital truck’ really what can you do? At least he’s using words. Sometimes he just mimes the shape or action of the thing and insists that you know what he’s talking about. Will draw a picture if he gets frustrated enough, but if it’s something intangible? Well it’s a guessing word game. (Togame is the best at it, but Inugami is on Choji’s wavelength enough that he’s pretty accurate too)

Hiragi calls the first years by the wrong name sometimes, like a mom with too many kids. He’ll yell and say Sugishita when he means Sakura, but he does apologize before yelling again.

Because he’s around older guys a lot, Togame sometime uses really old words or sayings. You haven’t hear the saying “It’s raining cats and dogs” or he’s “bleeding like a stuck pig” in years until you’re stuck under an awning during a passing storm or he comes back from a rough fight, nose still bleeding profusely. Also keeps bag balm/cetaphil, some other really good lotion for calluses and dry skin and just kinda slaps it on whatever shishitoren member he sees who’s hands are cracking, saying that the skin won’t heal as well when they’re older so they better take care of it now.

Umemiya’s got the worst habit of losing, dropping, or sitting on his glasses. He doesn’t realize it until he hears the snap and he’s got them taped up until he can go get them fixed again.

Kaji’s kind of a messy eater. Especially with ice cream or food with sauce on it. Started to get better with checking his face after eating after Hiragi slapped a wet wipe on his face after he devoured a rack of ribs, leaving him looking like he’d cannibalized someone

[team7-headquarter]

It's really sad that Sasori's defeat had so little repercussions for Sakura in the story.

She went from being considered a useless girl to being one of the most useful members of Gaara's rescue team:

She saved Kankuro (which was considered an impossibility by Sasori himself).

She helped Naruto wake up from Itachi's genjutsu.

She helped neutralize one of Sasori's deadly poisons and created extra antidotes to help them fight him (in minimum timeframe too).

She destroyed the stolen body of that past Kazekages by tricking Sasori into thinking she was poisoned.

She was considered a talented medic nin at her young age by the most recognized poison experts of the Shinobi world.

She figured out how to counterattack Sasori's puppet master technique by learning to read the movement of his fingers before an attack. You know how insane that is? how analytical of her that is? how her attention was divided?

She saved Chiyo's life almost sacrificing her own, an action that allowed Chiyo to bring Gaara back from the death.

She actively participated in the first known defeat of an Akatsuki member (!)

She got info on Orochimaru and therefore on Sasuke's possible position.

She did all of that while maintaining part of her chakra locked towards her byakugou seal and Sasori himself said that her punching and medic in techniques required considerable chakra. She lasted that long by chakra control alone.

That's her first mission in Shippuden.

[bullborn]

DanganRonpa 1 character portraits!!

[doodlingwren]

Tried to make a character reference for Mariya from the new Saint Seiya spinoff since I couldn't find a character turnaround 🎀✨

Mostly I drew this for practice purposes and well, for having a reference of her outfits. Might be useful in the future... who knows!

Hope you like it! 🌟

[hey-heigo]

aoi and sakura!!! houghgsgh

i wasn't planning on giving them similar sailor-style uniforms but actually i like it now that i look at it. polar opposite girlfriends

aoi is the ultimate sukeban (female gangster). she started up to defend her younger brother from some bullies and ended up leading multiple gangs through sheer charisma

she prefers intimidation over violence, hence the kendo sword that she never got proper training on how to use (she mostly carries it around for dramatic effect)

is a little devious. will not hesitate to frame, injure, or throw someone under a bus if she thinks they've wronged her or someone she cares about

sakura is the ultimate moral compass, in this au her longtime friend kenshiro entrusted her with 'strongest human alive' but also with a message to uphold peace with that strength

she maintains a calm demeanor to seem more approachable to people. as a result, a lot of people trust her

is very careful of how she uses her strength. avoids fights whenever possible

[moonlight-xxs-stuff]

Sakura: Everyone, synchronize your watches.

Naruto: I don’t know how to do that.

Sai: I don’t wear a watch.

Sasuke: Time is a construct

[choccorin]

thinking about haruka who loves when someone scratches his back while he sleeps ... like, imagine the two of you on the couch and haruka is laying on his side while his head placed on your lap, you give him soft scratches on his back from his nape down to his lower back and you swear you could hear him purring. he, sometimes, drool in his sleep while you do this but, you don't tell him because he'll most likely get embarrassed and won't lay his head on your lap anymore.

[rararazaquato]

*coughs up several crumpled pieces of paper* hello

(originals under the cut)