#it got sappy at the end

[komorim]

itoshi sae that takes pictures of his meals routinely after you expressed your worry of him not eating enough. his manager is beyond relieved after he sees that the footballer is now gaining some weight.

itoshi sae who doesn’t mind being affectionate with you in public- who cares if there is a teenage boy gawking at you two while taking a picture for his twitter account that would surely be on headlines tomorrow? not sae.

itoshi sae that gets a bit cranky when you don’t reply to his messages within an hour. itoshi sae that even more cranky when you call off your nightly calls one day (it ended up with all of his teammates getting insults left and right for every minuscule mistake- his manager calls you that afternoon and begs you to not do that again).

itoshi sae who takes screenshots of your messages and saves the pictures you send him. his favourites are the ones during calls: where it is perfectly candid and his screenshots notifies you.

“what? it’s not like you’re naked or taking a shit.”

itoshi sae who proudly flaunts his relationship with you while wearing your matching couple necklace during matches. he kisses it to dedicate a score to you, and his teammates can’t help but wonder who you are (and what you have done to itoshi sae).

itoshi sae who isn’t embarrassed of his obvious softness towards you. in fact, he once almost completely murdered the opponent’s goalkeeper for throwing the ball straight at his chest, breaking the necklace.

“you glorified octopus, can’t aim for your life of you huh? even a country bumpkin has the common sense to avoid an opponent’s midfielder you-“

you were informed of the commotion by his manager the day after that (he keeps in contact with you very often, knowing that you do a better job keeping sae in check than him).

you tell sae to just not wear the necklace during matches. to which sae quips back, clearly offended:

“are you on his side? he broke our necklace?? you know, like an idiot???”

itoshi sae who still frowns at the little rust at the end of the necklace, where his manager got a professional to fix for him- vowing to score a goal at the goalkeeper’s face next time. (he now brings up the university’s goalkeeping ability every moment he gets during interviews).

-🐨 (im back againnnn ^^)

i most definitely did not expect more from you, but i can’t exactly say i’m complaining (i love you for this). i hope this means you saw my post and hopefully you also liked my hcs! now…undramatic drumroll…some more from me as well!

‣ itoshi sae hcs ⋮ part one !!

cw // none this time as well

itoshi sae who, because he doesn’t care about the media, ends up in a lot of trouble with his manager regarding how he acts. his manager has a headache he whenever he thinks about how to clean up sae’s messes, and he no doubt is somewhat too intimidated by the football player to confront him about it. so instead, resorts to seeking you out for help.

when you talk to sae about the matter, he isn’t exactly happy about it as he genuinely doesn’t see why people should care about his character when they’re supposed to be focusing on his playing abilities. however, he begrudgingly promises you to act better in public the next time. only because it was you that asked (he can’t find it in himself to say no to you, albeit he regrets agreeing to some dumb shit you ask of him sometimes).

itoshi sae who never gives his interviewers an easy time, almost always failing to cooperate with the questions asked. however, when one host on a talk show asks about you, a small smile tugs on his lips instinctually and he can’t help the shine in his eyes as he talks about you, the love of his life.

itoshi sae who puts you as his top priority, being able to drop almost everything in order to come to your aid. sae is the type to always support you no matter what. the exact definition of “even if the whole world turns against you, i’ll always be by your side.”

itoshi sae who is definitely an actions over words kind of boyfriend who’ll never really give you sweet nothings. he’s probably the type to call you a dumbass for not wearing more on a cold day as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders with a concerned expression (tsundere but doesn’t know it).

itoshi sae whose facial expression is always the same, barely ever changing. however, he doesn’t know it, but the tips of his ears always turn a bit pink and gives him and his feelings away whenever you compliment him. he loves how you’re always so proud of him, especially as your opinion is one that’s greatly important to him.

itoshi sae who saves all the paparazzi photos of the two of you together. even if they get annoying sometimes, following him everywhere, he has to admit that they take really high quality photos of you both.

itoshi sae is the probably type to either pick you up and spin you around or hug you tightly by the waist as he gives you a kiss after a big game. he’s not always this fond of being affectionate in public, but after a tense game, he’s a bit high off the adrenaline and acts before thinking. not that he cares if others see how much he loves you though.

itoshi sae isn’t the type to really get butterflies near you or when the both of you are together. though he does feel warm and loved with you. the emptiness in him that leaving home at a young age caused was filled by you. the lonely feeling that was gained after he and rin broke up was replaced by happiness that was gained from being with you. you gave him a sense of belonging that he hadn’t felt in a while.

itoshi sae is the type to have a slow burn kind of love life. he is the type to develop feelings for you over time. when he finally couldn’t help but admit that he has fallen for you, he determines that you’re the one (but before that he was most likely in denial for the longest time; like come on, just admit that you’re in love, it won’t kill you). he wasn’t going to love another; you already took up so much of his heart that he couldn’t love anyone else even if he tried. not in this life, not in the next, and not in forever.

do not copy or repost my works. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

[ruporas]

bound to want (part two) /// part one rest of pages under READ MORE after ID

[ID: 23 page digital comic of Vashwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic is in a limited palette of a dark blue, light pink, white, black, and a light beige color for Vash's skin and a mid-brown color for Wolfwood's. This comic is the second part to "Bound to Want" and is spoiler-free. The first part is linked here.

It begins with a panel close up of Vash's expressions. The sky colored in dark blue can be seen behind him. He has a neutral expression, but he holds a slight frown and the reflection of his glasses covers one side of his eyes. Wolfwood says, "Hey. What's with the distance?" In the second panel, the shot widens to show both of them, a clear physical distance separating them with Wolfwood walking ahead and Vash trailing a little behind. Vash responds, "What? I'm just walking a bit slower today..." Wolfwood looks at him with a an irritated expression, clicking his tongue. Wolfwood says, "I was going to wait for you to start... But yer just running away away."

Vash is seen looking away, unable to hold eye contact with Wolfwood as he continues, "You've been avoiding me since that night. Did ya think I wouldn't notice? It's about that dream, right? Tell me about it already if you're going to be moping like this." Vash looks slightly downwards, his brows furrowing and he starts to walk ahead of Wolfwood without looking at him and responds stiffly, "I really don't want to talk about it..." Wolfwood looks at him with a surprised expression, but doesn't probe.

A panel close up to Wolfwood's eyes as he watches Vash go on ahead before he follows suite with an irritated sigh. The panels are overlapped by Wolfwood's hand holding the bottle of the Bride with motion lines, indicating a transition in time.

A wide shot of Vash and Wolfwood in a room now. Vash is seated, his back turned away from the viewer, while Wolfwood's body faces the viewer with his eyes looking towards Vash. He rests the bottle of the Bride on the table with a "clack" and his other hand holds two shotglasses. The background is coated in a light pink.

A panel shows a close up of Wolfwood's face, his eyes looking downwards to Vash as he says, "Let's drink." Next to this panel is Vash looking up at Wolfwood, his brows furrowed and a slight frown. The bottom half of the page is a wider shot with Vash's body turned away from the viewer as he says, "I'm not going to talk about it." Wolfwood responds, "You don't have to." as he sits down.

A wide panel of Wolfwood holding the shotglass, pouring in the drink as he continues, "I'll talk." The next panel is a profile view of Wolfwood, his eyes looking down at the now filled shotglass as he continues to say, "You're..."

"... upset with me." Vash can be seen next to this speech bubble with narrowed eyes, looking towards Wolfwood. The panels are all coated in with a dark blue background. Wolfwood continues, "I can't be certain why since yer not telling me a thing -- but it's probably... my bad." The panels show Wolfwood about to bring the shotglass to his mouth but he turns way as he continued to speak, his eyes not on Vash. The bottom page shows him looking away completely with a guilty expression as he says, "I'm sorry.

If you can ever tell me why, I can try and adjust to make it more bearable. But if you're just trying to get rid of me--" The panels follow Wolfwood's certain expression as he says this, "I don't intend to leave you. I can't... and I won't." A panel shows Vash's wide-eyed expression, surprised upon hearing this, and then his eyes soften as Wolfwood again concludes with, "I'm sorry."

Vash's inner thoughts begins, a boxed speech at the center of the page and panels of his eyes, his brows furrowing again and a resigned, but frustrated expression. His thoughts starts, "Stop. I shouldn't be happy hearing that. And why are you apologizing? I should be the one to..! I can't let anything like that happen to you. You deserve to live a long steady and peaceful life. I want to be optimistic. I want to protect you, but I might end up doing the opposite." The text surrounds Wolfwood from Vash's perspective, the other man drinking out of his shotglass, his eyes downcasted.

"I shouldn't have you. And you won't leave." Behind these text is a panel of Wolfwood's eyes finally looking over to Vash. Vash's thoughts continues,  "It's so unfair." When Wolfwood sees Vash, his eyes soften and he frowns. The last panel shows the lower half of Vash's face, but tears begins to flow down his cheek. Wolfwood's hand is already reaching to wipe at them as he starts to say, "You know..."

A wider shot of Vash and Wolfwood, Vash slightly leaning forward with his mouth tightly shut, and tears steadily continuing to flow out of his closed eyes. Wolfwood continues to wipe at them with his hand as he continues, "This isn't a dream anymore. I don't know what you saw for you to be this shaken up, but whatever happened, you'll overcome it, right? If not you, I'm here too. You'll be okay, Spikey. So..." Wolfwood's expression grows more tender, "Have a little faith in me... and come back already." The dark blue starts to fade.

The wide panel has the dark blue background faded and replaced is the light pink. It shows Vash in full up to his shoulders, his eyes are still tears littered, but there's light in them as he says, "Wolfwood..." making eye contact with the other. The next panel shows Wolfwood's tender expression, his eyes and brows fully soften and he has a small smile on his lips, finally seeing the other return a level of sincerity with him.

The next panel shows the bottom half of Wolfwood's face and his hand is offered towards Vash for a dance as he says, "C'mon. We don't have to talk, but this is okay, right?" The background is now white and a ribbon flowing across the page separates this panel from the next sequence. Vash's inner thoughts continus, "I've spent too long avoiding this. It's scary to want after I've taken so much from others." A sequence close up of their hands is shown, with Wolfwood's outstretched hand on the right and Vash's reaching hand on the left. Vash gently places his hand in Wolfwood and at the bottom, Wolfwood wraps his fingers across Vash's.

Throughout the page, a dark blue ribbon starts to flow around the both of them with confetti raining alongside the effect. Vash and Wolfwood are hand and hand, dancing together with Wolfwood as the lead. The viewer can see a peak of Vash's expression, full of fondness but also a hint of sorrow as he looks down at Wolfwood. His inner thoughts continue, "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. But why is that even though I have these burdens, I still want to love you. I still want you to be by my side."

With a close up of their mouths, Vash's thoughts continue, the text covering his mouth, "Wolfwood, I--" Wolfwood's speech bubble covers Vash's text as he completes his sentence, "want you." Vash's eyes widen for one panel and in the next, his eyes spark, a blush appearing on his cheek and the confetti flows and spark. Tears ease up on his eyes again.

"Want me too already, Spikey." Wolfwood has leaned in enough to rest his head against Vash, a hand of his on Vash's neck, holding his nape and another hand pressed gently against his back. A ribbon separates this panel from the next, a mix of confetti flows across the page, as Vash envelopes Wolfwood in a hug too, holding him and his hand gripping tightly onto his back.

This page is just the ribbon flowly throughout the page on the white background, one white ribbon and the other a dark blue. Near the bottom, the ribbon envelopes each other in a loop. A conversation of Vash and Wolfwood is held over these ribbons, Vash starting to say, "What if I hurt you? What if you..?" Wolfwood responds, "You? How could you hurt me?" Vash, "You know what I mean... You see it everyday..." Wolfwood responds, "If you think I'm going to kick the bucket so easily, I suggest you look at me more closely from now on, idiot. I'm not that easy to get rid of."

The next page has the ribbon criss cross over the top of the page. Vash and Wolfwood can be seen in their dancing position again, Wolfwood now resting a hand on Vash's shoulder, as Vash takes the lead. Vash continues, "Well, I know that... I tried." Wolfwood responds, "But you won't anymore... since you want me... around, yeah?" Wolfwood's head cocks to the side, smiling with assurance, cheeks flushed. Vash looks at him with a wide smile and fond, loving eyes. The confetti flows across the bottom of this page and as it eases into the next page, it starts to disappear.

Vash responds, ".. Yeah... I do..." as he pulls Wolfwood into a hug again. Wolfwood says, "Not going to run away anymore, are you?" Vash says, "No... I trust you." A panel shows Wolfwood's turning away slightly with a shy expression, muttering "Geez..."

In a more simplified style, Wolfwood is seen gripping Vash's cheeks now with his hand, "Though... You do remember you avoided me for two weeks straight, right? How are you going to make that up to me?" Wolfwood asks. Vash responds with eyes closed and a pucker of his lips. A vein of irritation appears on Wolfwood's face. Wolfwood starts to squeeze at Vash's cheek with both hands, shouting, "Now that you've recovered, you're trying to be funny, huh?!" Vash says through the squished cheeks, "I'm just happy..."

The next page opens with a closed up panel of Vash's widen eye as Wolfwood's hand moves from squishing his cheeks to gently holding them and Wolfwood leans in. The inner thoughts starts again, "There's a chance I'm not making the right choice... My dreams, my fears of losing you, it will never go away. But you said you won't let it happen... And I want to hang onto your words closely this time. After all, if it's anyone who can make me believe, it's you."  The white ribbon from previous pages flows across the page and it visibly ends at the bottom of the page, enclosing the two of them as they share a gentle kiss with Vash holding Wolfwood's face, a tear in his eye.

The next pages starts with Wolfwood saying, "You cryin' again?" Vash responds, "I'm just grateful..." Wolfwood responds, "But you've always had me." Vash responds, "Being like this is different from staring at you from behind all the time though..." The two can be seen together again, Wolfwood pressing his elbows against the table with Vash leaning over him. Wolfwood is easing the tears out of Vash's eye again, just like earlier. A close panel of Vash's fond expression is seen as he says, "Thank you, Wolfwood." Wolfwood looks up at him with a small smile, gentle eyes. Confetti starts to flow lightly across the page as text starts to appear against the white background, "I'm the one who's grateful...

That you'd embrace someone like me, when I'm not fit to hold you in the first place... But I know better than to hesitate. The moment I acknowledged it, I knew I'd spend the rest of my life loving you. So, have as much of me as you want, Vash."

The final page shows the confetti gently falling down the page and at the bottom shows Vash and Wolfwood pressing their foreheads together, Wolfwood's hands cupping the side of Vash's face gently, and both of them smiling brightly with each other. ID END]

[afewproblems]

I just got a tattoo done and was thinking about all of the before and after care instructions they gave me and how older Eddie would have possibly reacted to the list of things he would need to do or items to purchase for a new addition to his sleeve.

The artist reaches out to Eddie years after corroded coffin makes it big. She's fairly well known as a minor celebrity herself in the tattoo and body modification space in LA, so when she contacts Eddie's agent about offering a new piece for his eclectic sleeve he checks out her portfolio and is immediately sold.

She sends him the idea and he signs off on it right away and before they know it, he and Steve are on a plane from Chicago to Los Angeles.

It isn't until it's done, and the second skin is placed over the piece, smoothed out to ensure no bubbling, that Eddie balks at the secondary list of steps he needs to take.

The artist taps out the instruction email on her phone, hitting send with a dimpled grin before reaching out to shake his hand and Steve's, thanking them for being such great new clients. She asks Steve if he would be interested in a piece at some point, to which he smiles politely and shakes his head.

Steve has never been into tattoos for himself, though he's always gone to great lengths to admire and kiss each piece on Eddie's body.

Eddie half listens as they continue to chat, pulling out his phone to review the email she sent him.

"Ensure that you leave the second skin on for three to five days and upon its removal (see removal instructions on page two)..."

Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes right then and there. It's not as though this is his first ever tattoo, he's been getting ink since before this girl was even born.

He winces at the thought, reminding himself that just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know her shit, and she clearly does. He shakes his head and nods when Steve says goodbye for them and they make their way to the elevator.

"Okay, what's with the face?" Steve asks quietly as soon as the door closes.

Eddie sighs and folds his arms over his chest, careful not to bump the now tender area on his forearm.

"You look like you swallowed a lemon, spill," he reaches out for Eddie's shoulder, his warm hazel eyes, now lined with gentle wrinkles at the edges search his face, "do you not like it?"

Eddie barks out a laugh, "it's probably one of the nicest ones in the whole collection, no Stevie, it's not that".

Steve raises his eyebrow now and just looks at Eddie until the elevator dings and the doors open before them.

God Dammit.

He loves and hates this ability, that Steve knows Eddie will crack eventually if he just waits long enough.

"Fine!" Eddie sighs as they make their way back to the hotel.

It's gorgeous out, nothing like the weather back home right now, the palm trees lining the streets and the twinkling fairy lights on every corner gives the area an almost magical feel, despite the bustling pedestrians packing the sidewalks.

"It's a little weird all the instructions," Eddie says eventually. He speaks slowly, doing his best to articulate exactly what he feels.

Steve nods, though the confused pinch between his brow doesn't quite fade.

"And I've been getting these done since it eighties, Steve, it's just a little--"

Eddie growls and tugs on his hair in frustration, "I don't want to be shitty".

Steve shrugs and loops his arm around Eddie's small waist, tugging him closer.

"Be shitty, you know I love it," he grins and lifts his free hand to remove Eddie's from his hair, "what about the instructions made you upset?"

"It's like I'm being talked down to," Eddie says with a frown, "I got a stick and poke from Jeff in '84 that was totally fine with out any of this," he lifts his arm now to show off the shiny second skin to Steve who nods.

"And which one was that again?" Steve asks, there's a leading lilt to his voice that makes Eddie want to sit on the sidewalk.

He huffs out a low whine, "Steve--"

"Eddie," Steve answers with a soft smile.

And Eddie knows he's lost this argument, if you could even call it that, because the bats that Jeff did for him all the way back in '84, have since been covered up.

Over the years they had morphed into six blobs of bluish grey on the back of his forearm that could no longer be distinguishable as bats, and after being asked about his 'abstract' tattoos by an interviewer a few years back, he had made the decision to get them covered.

And it could have been any number of things that lead to the eventual fading and blobification of his bats, but Eddie figured it was probably because they had almost immediately gotten infected a few days after Jeff had finished them in his parents garage.

Eddie clears his throat and opens the email on his phone again, taking another look at the list the artist had sent him.

"Fine, you gonna help me take care of this thing Stevie?" Eddie grumbles as they enter the revolving door of the hotel, stepping carefully into the pie shaped section to avoid colliding with the moving entryway.

Steve snorts and lets his hand curl through one of the belt loops on Eddie's jeans, "I think I remember agreeing to something like that, in sickness and health?"

He leans forward and nuzzels his nose into Eddie's ear, "till the end of our days".

[pizzaqueen]

Going to turn this into a fic at some point but: Steve starts getting weird leading up to his first anniversary with Eddie. He's distant one moment, then all over Eddie even more than usual the next. It takes Eddie a little while to notice and then, when he does, and he looks at the calendar, the dots start connecting. It's been nearly a year since they got together and Steve is acting weird. That can’t be good. He asks Dustin and Robin and some of the others if they've noticed Steve being weird lately, but no one has. It's just with Eddie.

The only conclusion Eddie can come to is that Steve is having second thoughts about them and if he is then...Steve can tell him himself, damn it!

Only, Eddie doesn't want to ask because he's not sure he wants to know. But then not knowing is worse. So, he asks. But he doesn't ask Steve because he's not that brave. He talks to Robin. He tells her what's been happening and how their anniversary is coming up and it takes Robin a minute to make the connection but then she says, "You know that he and Nance broke up just before they officially got to a year," and then the dots really connect. For real this time. And Eddie feels like kind of an asshole for thinking...

He thanks Robin and he doesn't say anything to Steve but he's extra affectionate, trying to reassure Steve without saying anything as their anniversary draws closer. He’s not sure it works but Steve seems a little more at ease.

And when the clock ticks over to one minute past midnight on their anniversary, Eddie wakes Steve up. Steve is grumpy at first, and then worried that something's wrong, until Eddie says, "Happy anniversary."

Steve squints. "Huh?"

"It's officially one year since we got together." Eddie smiles softly. "We made it."

Steve smiles back and says, "You couldn't have told me in the morning?" even as he reaches for Eddie.

“Couldn’t wait,” Eddie says and kisses Steve and holds him tight.

And Eddie does the same thing every year for many many years to come.

[beetleoops]

You keep getting married to Beetlejuice

This fucker loves to party (and he loves you), so you are having weddings constantly

You officially get married in private, with only Lydia, the Deetzs and the Maitlands there. You take it easy so he can adjust to being alive, but Delia still throws a pretty fun party- if a little...odd. Still, it's enough for Beetlejuice to learn his alcohol tolerance isn't NEARLY as high now that he has a heartbeat.

"Babes!! I cannot fuckin wait to get married to you all over again." He's half asleep, laying his entire weight on you, reeking of booze, smiling like a dope. "Uh-huh. Me too, Beej." You pat his back.

(Also, turns out now that he sleeps for real, he snores. you think its cute.)

Once he's human (and more or less used to it), you have a more traditional wedding with your friends and family all there, and throw an all night reception and after party at a bar - beej loves the energy and is cheering on your grandparents to throw ass on the dance floor all night

"Fuck it up Agnes! Hell yeah!" (This is probably not your grandma's name. Actually, is that even your grandma?)

This goes over not great, but better than expected; everyone has a good time. You do too, of course. You are drunk and wearing white and laughing so loud, and when you aren't dancing, Beetlejuice can barely keep his hands off you. Hell, when you ARE dancing Beetlejuice can't keep his hands off you.

you go to Las Vegas for the honeymoon and get married again - Beej insists on the most tacky wedding possible and you agree.

You get married by an Elvis impersonater in a sticky little chapel on the strip. You wear a suit, and he wears a tight, short wedding dress with a veil and pumps.

"third time's the charm?" You ask, when Elvis finally says to kiss the groom. " Oh no, babes. We're hitting the drive through wedding chapel next."

"Deal!" And you dip him before kissing him square in the mouth.

You keep getting married to Beetlejuice, because you both want to make fucking SURE it sticks.

[onlymagpie]

Lydia van Bredevoort

Ending/beginning the year off with my favourite most beloved most tragic most doomed artist... I think about her a lot.

[raishical]

What do you mean he was supposed to have a ferret friend ☹️

[krakerjaksstuff]

The thing that makes me crazy about webgott is that their whole relationship is centred around the fact that they do not understand each other but so desperately want to.

Like the wagon scene! Where Lieb automatically assumes Web finished his degree and Web snaps at him for assuming anything. And instead of fighting back, Lieb’s just like “yeah you’re right” and so quickly throws away his preconceived notion of Webster in order to get to know the real one. (And don’t get me started on Lieb’s “you’re kidding? I love to read!” Like Lieb, you are down sooooo bad)

And then there’s the infamous mountaintop scene where Web is *so* insistent on asking Liebgott if this was personal to him or not. He wants to understand what exactly Liebgott is feeling and thinking, and by now, he knows him well enough to see through Liebgott’s lies of it just being an order to him. (AND ONCE AGAIN, DONT GET ME STARTED ON HOW LIEB WAS DEFINITELY THE ONE WHO DRAGGED WEB TO THE MOUNTAINTOP WITH HIM. LIKE WEB DID NOT KNOW ANY OF THE DETAILS FOR THE MISSION. HE WAS THERE BECAUSE LIEBGOTT *WANTED* HIM TO BE THERE AHHHHHHHHHH)

And then after the mountaintop scene, after everything that’s transpired, they still attempt to bridge that gap. Does it work? That’s another reason why I love webgott because the possibilities are endless. They could so easily fall into strangers just as easily as lovers. Or maybe a mixture of both. But if they do end up together, they will never stop trying to know each other. Will they ever find full understanding? No, and they’re okay with that because their edges will soften together until they are inextricably intertwined. It’s hard work but also it’s the easiest work because they’re doing it together.

[giggly-squiggily]

I highly feel that Geto is way too stressed and Gojo senses that. I feel that Gojo would totally wreck him to relieve some of that stress. To just slow down and laugh freely.

KERKJER Thank you so much, anon! And AHH! Lee!Geto!!! I need fluff after these past few episodes of JJK, lemme tell you! I've gotcha covered, y'all!

CW: Swearing, Panic Attacks

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps)

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart @riisada

Midterms are coming up, I need to study-

My new technique has too many quirks to use-

Why are we doing this? What’s the point of it all-

Did I turn off the stove this morning? Oh god- Gojo couldn’t hear these thoughts, but he knew Geto long enough to read the dread on his friend’s face like a paperback novel. Staring at his friend spiraling, he reached out and flicked him in the forehead.

“Ow! The hell’s wrong with you, Satoru?” Geto flailed, shocked out of his reverie as he glared daggers at him. “What is it?”

“You’re doing it again.”

Geto froze over, eyes going blank and jaw slightly slacked. Then he flushed, ears red as he averted his gaze, slumping. “How bad was it?”

“Like you were witnessing a murder. Or Shoko stealing your rice balls.” Gojo grinned as he reached out, shaking Geto’s shoulder. “Come on, Suguru- breathe! Whatever’s got you freaking out will work itself out. It always does!”

“It’s not that easy. Sure, logically I know things are gonna be fine, but my brain won’t accept that! I can’t get it to shut down and I just-” Caught in a whirlwind of sudden emotion, Geto bowed his head in defeat, slumping forward like a slacked marionette. “I just…”

“Hey, hey- breathe. Seriously.” Dropping his teasing tone, Gojo rested his hand on Geto’s back, rubbing small circles. “Just breathe right now. Nice and slow…”

Geto did so, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as he gasped around shaky breaths. He barely heard Gojo’s voice anymore, but that was fine. The hand on his back was more than reassuring. Slowly, he was brought out of his near-panic attack. “Sorry.”

“Pfft- you’re such a sap.” Relieved his friend sounded better, Gojo did what he did best. He began poking Geto. “Next you’re gonna tell me how grateful and appreciative you are of me! Just like a shoujo manga! Come on, confess your love!”

“Ah! Aheahaha, screhehehw yoohohohohu! Sahhahatohohoru!” Geto shot back at the sudden tickle, trying and failing to block out Gojo’s hands. “Cuuhuhuhut it ohohohohut! Aheahhaha, dohohohon’t!”

“Don’t what? Don’t hold back your feelings? It’s okay- let them out! Tell me how much you looooove me!” Gojo sang, bringing one hand to Suguru’s neck as the other wormed beneath his arm. They weren’t nearly his most ticklish spots, but damn if they didn’t get Geto giggling like nobody’s business! “Tell me you think I’m the prettiest boy in the world!”

“Aheahhahaha, lihihihihike hehehheell yoohohohohu ahahahahre! Aheahhahaha, Sahhahatou!” Geto tried to lean away from the other, but Gojo simply followed, climbing on top of him as he pressed into his armpits. “Gehhehhet ohohohoohohohoff!”

“Never! I’m attached to you forever and ever!” Gojo sang, deciding to be bold and going straight for Geto’s hips. “Suguru~ Tell me you love meeeee~”

“AHAHA!” The green haired teen let out a scream, nearly sending the other off with how hard he jerked at the feeling. “SAHHAHTORU!”

“Suguru!” Gojo yelled back, laughing like a hyena as Geto howled and cackled beneath him, feet kicking and torso arching upward in vain attempts to grab the hands massaging his hips. “Look at you, you’re so giggly now! Tickle tickle tickle! A tickle tickle tickle! A tickle tickle tickle, Suguru!”

If he could, Geto would verbally rip his white haired menace of a friend a new one. Alas, Gojo had effectively silenced him- no really; he was going for the dips of his hips that never failed to have him tea-kettle wheezing in place of booming laughter.

With the little strength he had left, he reached out and grabbed Gojo’s sides, squeezing right along the spot he knew his friend was ticklish in. Gojo yelped and jerked, hands coming away from Geto’s hips to grab his wrists. That was the opportunity he needed.

“Whoa!” The world twisted, the ground was suddenly the sky, and above him- a flushed face, heavy breathing Geto glared down at him. “Hey there, gorgeous- how you’ve been?”

“You…huhuhush.” Geto growled without any malice, suddenly too tired to tickle back. Below him, Gojo got comfortable, tucking his arms behind his head and wagging his brows with a small smirk. When Geto met his eye once more, he blew a kiss.

“I hate you.” He groaned as Gojo laughed, falling onto his side and off the other. “You’re so annoying- why are we friends again?”

“Cause we’re the only ones who can stand each other's company.” Gojo winked, earning a light shove. “I don’t mind it if we were the last two on earth; though I bet you’d get bored of me after a while.”

“Never.” The words came automatically and swiftly. Geto blinked- even Gojo seemed taken aback by them. “I’d never get bored of you.” The more he said it, the more real it felt. “I’d be bored to tears without you if I’m being honest.”

“Ehe..you know, I was kidding earlier- about the whole confession thing.” Gojo tried to laugh it off, his cheeks starting to turn pink. “You don’t have to get all sappy with me.”

“No, I mean it. Really.” Geto turned so he was on his side, facing the other. “You’re a real pain in the ass, and half the time I want to strangle you, but you’re also my best friend and one of the coolest guys I’ve ever known. You’re there to keep me from spiraling whenever my headspace gets bad, and you always make me laugh. You find these ridiculous things for us to try whenever you travel, and you always send me pictures of you posing in ridiculous places. You’re important to me. Really, you might be one of the only reasons I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth right about now, so…thanks for that.”

Gojo was quiet as he listened, staring up at the sky as he took in every word. His lips were flat, and he was blinking rather rapidly. “You really are a sap, you know that?” He grinned, his voice somewhat wobbly.

“Oak or maple?” Geto grinned, making Gojo cackle.

“Now kiss me you fool!” Gojo threw himself on top of him, making kissy noises and messing up his hair as Geto laughed beneath him. Soon they were wrestling once more, throwing grass in eachother’s faces and jabbing at tickle spots. It was utterly ridiculous yet special at the same time.

It was just as Gojo said; all of it worked out in the end somehow.

Thanks for reading!

[raytorosaurus]

this video from the third show is so crazy i literally forgot how FUN those first few weeks felt...diy costume, gerard audibly out of breath a few songs in but unable to stop telling goofy rambling stories between songs, ray toro pedal assistant extraordinaire (they didn't even have the special mic stand yet)...REAAALLLLLL LIGHTERSSSSS...YO. WE'RE JUST HANGIN OUT AND HAVIN A GOOD TIME...ALRIGHT, BACK DOWN. MOODY MOODY MOODY! AJ C'MAHN. like we didn't even realise how comparitively unpolished they were because they already sounded better than ever! and they were already playing deep cuts! we were all just rediscovering my chemical romance. 2gether <3

[bringthekaos]

Wait I'm feeling emotional about Jayce reconnecting with Viktor as the Machine Herald.... because yes, he is now a menacing force capable of leveling a building in minutes and yes he will commit murder if anyone becomes too much of an inconvenience but also the old Viktor is still there, below the metal and the drugs and the neutral facade he is still helping people and trying to bring a better future for Zaun... that's why I loved that little fragment in PotM where he is helping a girl with his prosthetic legs 🥲

Ohhh, I loved that scene too, I smiled like a dope the entire time I was writing it. Viktor is just so compassionate, almost to a detrimental level. He cares about people, and his ambitions are a little too lofty at times. He gets blinders on, and he gets into this cycle of “just a little more, then I’ll be finished. Just a little more, a little more,” until he has nothing left to give.

And children are the epitome of that compassion. He remembers what it was like as a child growing up in Zaun. He remembers how it felt like a constant uphill battle, how it was filled with heartache and fear and regret. I think it’s exemplified best in these shots from the Arcane visual novel.

He knows Jinx is doing bad things, he never claims that she isn’t. But he also knows, intimately, that sometimes you have to do bad things to survive in Zaun, and that it doesn’t make you any less of a person. It doesn’t strip you of deserving compassion. He just wants people to stop and think about the person, not just the conflict.

But he too has been forced to disguise his compassion, because compassion in Zaun is a giant red target on your back. So it takes Jayce a while to start to see it again, to unpack the mountains of scar tissue on top. And sometimes it’s like picking a scab, and Viktor will cringe and bury it under more metal. But Jayce knows that it’s still in there, that it always will be. It’s rain-soaked firewood; it may not catch today, or tomorrow, or even a week from now. But eventually it will burn again.

[i-really-like-phrogs]

Re-design of my un-named Beetlejuice OC from back when I was thirteen

Original Reference under the cut:

[httpseiki]

hi hi !! can you use the prompts from fluff; 59 and from smut; 75, 89 with changbin. like he's jealous of someone who is too clingy to reader in public

thank youu <3

𝚏𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜

- seo changbin x reader

note: hi hi yes of course, this was kinda rushed but I hope you like it!! also there's an easter egg somewhere, good luck finding it :))

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ prompts!

59. “Should we make it official?”

75. “Keep acting like that, I’ll fuck you in front of everyone.

89. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you.”

tw: NSFW content, afab!reader x dom!changbin, ftl, changbin gets jealous, fingering, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex(don't recommend it), spanking, slight breeding kink.

song choice: honeymoon avenue - ariana grande

"I don't get it, why does it bother you so much?" you walk after changbin.

"I just didn't like how touchy he was with you, that's all," he shruggs.

"why, though? he was just flirting, aren't you happy I'm getting some?"

...

oh he really isn't happy. and by the way he stopped and folded his arms, he was pretty pissed. cause yeah, you can watch the one you crush on be followed around by girls all the time, and no one says anything, but when he sees ONE guy hit you up-

wait a minute, was he upset on that guy or was he jealous of that guy?

well, that's confusing. changbin was sending death glares to him all night long, but was it because he thought you're uncomfortable or because he felt threatened?

you hum, turning to face him, looking in his eyes. not that you could read anything of his emotions, you just waited for an answer,

“Should we make it official?”

his voice is deep and it startles you after the long silence.

"what do you mean?"

"us. should we make us official, then?" he walks closer to you, until your back is met with a wall.

"i-i-"

"oh come on,───, don't play dumb."

his fingers push your chin up, his gaze piercing into your hole. and why didn't you realise how hot it was in this bar?

"ok, fine. I like you. in that way." changbin's words turned on something inside you. "and it's so obvious you like me too, so let's make it official."

"all because you got jealous of another guy flirting," you smirk.

"───." he warns.

"well, what can I say? god bless that taehyun guy for spawning at this club and hitting on me, hmm?" you roll your eyes playfully.

“Keep acting like that, I’ll fuck you in front of everyone."

anger was evident in his tone. changbin's face was milimeters away from yours, so you took a chance and kissed him. deep. and slow.

your arms wrapped around his neck, tongues meeting, messily making out. you both giggled and held hands, as he lead the both of you outside, searching for the keys to his car.

ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you, only to manhandle you on all fours, before getting in himself and closing it.

your lips hungrily searched for his, colliding in an open mouth kiss, much more seductive thn the one before.

changbin's fingers raised the hem of your skirt and pulled your panties down. his palm cupped your pussy, earning a whine in response.

"so wet, and I didn't even touch you properly."

he groaned, thrusting his digits inside you. you gasp, in surprise, taking whatever he gives you. his pace was quickening, and so was your arrival.

"changbin, I'm so close!~" he chuckles.

"yeah, I know, sweetheart, come on now."

with blurry vision, you came hard, body collapsing if it wasn't for him holding your hips.

his tongue drew a line from your clit to your hole, his breath sending you into overstimulation.

"you taste so good, baby" he coos before slurping the juices you left.

you whined when changbin's tongue stopped teasing your entrance. he smirked, getting up to remove his pants. you heard his belt undo and fall on to the floor. you look back to see him pumping his cock, eyes closed.

he aligned himself with your cunt, messily sliding between your folds as an attempt of lubrication.

"you're clenching over nothing, are you that needy for me?"

you whine, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"already brain fucked? oh baby, I have to train you, don't I?" he sighs, pushing his whole dick inside.

"NGH SO BIG, CHANGBIN~" you yell in pleasure.

your nails dig in the seats, drool coming out of your mouth at the feeling of your walls stretching this nicely. he pulled out, only to thrust in again, harder, and started to literally fuck you mercilessly.

his grip on you tightened, probably gonna leave a mark. not that you mind, though. you were only held up by him, literally face down ass up.

"such a good pussy, why didn't I use her before?" changbin said through gritted teeth, definitely trying not to bust too early.

his palm hit your ass and you clenched, making him groan, and do it again.

"I wonder what everyone outside thinks," he snickers.

and he's right. outsiders are probably scared, confused or... amused. seeing a car frantically shake in a bar parking lot can't suggest much. you moan at the thought,

"pretty baby wants everyone to know who fucks her this good~"he hums.

"YES YES~" you whimper when a harsh thrust of his brushes against your spot.

"Fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you.” changbin groans, " would you like that? let that bitch know who owns you?"

you whine, breathing not an option in this moment. his arm hooked around your waist, reaching down to rub your clit. and it hit you so hard.

"CHANGBIN~" you moan, feeling him fill you up as well.

"good girl, taking my cum so well," he praises, slowing down his thrusts.

he lets go of your hips, you collapse completely on the cushion. your - now - boyfriend reached for some tissues to clean you up.

"seeetheart, could you get up a bit?" he rubs your thigh.

you oblige, hissing when feeling how sore you were.

"did I go too rough?" he worries.

"no, I loved it, " you whisper, all energy drained out.

changbin takes his time to fix the mess you both worked on. when he finishes, his eyes find the foggy windows in front of him. before he could make any flirtatious joke, he sees something:

𖤐 ♡ <3 𖤐

𖤐 changbin <3 ♡

httpseiki, all rights reserved.

[pineapple-coffee]

I’ve never cried during Dead Poets Society, but every time I watch the movie, I’m left with this total emptiness. It’s like I’ve lost a real friend. And I watch the movie again and again, hoping against my better judgment that maybe the outcome is different this time. Maybe Neil gets to go back to Welton this time. Maybe his dad won’t show up to the play.

But it’s always the same. It feels like you’ve lost a real person. You have to watch the aftermath of this tragic loss. You have to watch this bright star burn out.

And isn’t that more painful than crying?

[pigeonwit]

ok but like jack who loveeeess when hes under the weight of something, he sleeps with like four hundred stuffed animals weighted blankets are his jam, etc etc, and then davey comes along and just flat out sleeps on top of him 24/7. its a win for both of them. (sorry if this isn’t coherent im literally asleep)

(sneep i dont know if you're referencing the prompts list at all or if it was just deeply important to you that i know this but i'm writing about it anyways)

It's hard for Jack to keep his feet on the ground sometimes.

He can't quite put it into words. He's not really a words guy. It took him about a year and a half post-American-public-school-system to realize that he was actually smart enough to read books, let alone echo them. Colours, that's where Jack's mind lives. A big swirling sea of shapes and colours. Sometimes it's calm; the gentle blue strokes of a calm, well-rested morning; the occasional pops and starbursts of the New York streets - a baby babbling at their parents, a dog yipping excitedly, a song that's been stuck in Jack's head drifting out of the cracked window of a passing car - all painted in pretty pinks and bright, sunny yellows. He's nowhere near whimsical or delusional enough for the happy-go-lucky "where dreams are made of" view of NYC, the one that's been washed over in watery-pink with Gershwin plunking in the background - but he's not nihilistic enough to pretend it's nothing more than a tar-pit. There's plenty to love, to be inspired over, to leave happy little brushstrokes on his skin.

But sometimes - sometimes - he gets too swept up in it. All the movement, all the noise, all of it, it picks him up by the scruff and throws him, spins him around and kicks him right between the ribs, until he's drifting listlessly along the sidewalk like a scrap of paper, small and sensitive, marked by every fume of exhaust and drop of gutter-water.

It's the difference between being painted and being stained. That's the only way Jack can describe it. Paint, colours, it has a purpose to it. It presses into his skin and keeps him grounded to reality. A stain is just... Nothing. A tear, a black hole of graphite in his chest, sucking up all his being until there's nothing left.

He needs solidity, when he gets like this. He needs to be held in place until all that old, wasted paper is rubbed away, and he can grow into himself again, fresh and newly remade.

It starts with a pillow. His first night at Medda's - she gave him two instead of just one. He'd no idea what to do with it. He only needed one or else his head felt too high, and he didn't want to just chuck it on the floor or stuff it in his closet, Miss Medda might think he was rude, and he liked Miss Medda, he didn't want her to think he was a bad kid, she might get angry, might give him back... And then he was panting, trembling with every inch, tears stinging at his eyes as he tried to press his nails into his palm, hold himself together, but nothing was working, nothing was firm enough-

It was humiliating - as humiliating as everything else is for an eleven year old, but still, humiliating - to go to sleep that night, clutching a pillow to his chest as he squeezed with all his little might. But it pressed his lungs into the mattress, forced the air in and out, and the foam held tight against his sharp, scrabbling hands, not breaking, not pushing him away... It was just enough.

He almost would've been content with just that, hugging a pillow every now and then - but Medda and Siôn had this whole thing about 'making Jack understand his worth as a person', the nerve, and suddenly he was being given all he needed and more. A plushie, then two, then five. A throw pillow with Val Kilmer's face on it, because Siôn ("Just fucking call me Crutchie, dude, I won't break-") was just as much a cretin when he was a teenager than he is now. A weighted blanket for his birthday that redefined Jack's understanding of the word comfort.

And that could've been enough. It all could've been enough. Fuck, just a hug every couple of days would've been enough. It was certainly more than he'd earned.

He'd offhandedly said something along those lines to Davey - or "Library Guy" as he'd been referred to at the time, since Jack had only really met him three times in two weeks - who had calmly raised a finger, taken a long swig of his coffee, slammed his travel mug (reusable, of course, because Davey is the world's most irritatingly perfect saint) on his desk and given Jack a seventeen minute speech about humanity's relationship with validation through the lens of a capitalistic society - and all of a sudden, Jack wanted everything. Coffee. Dinner. Pet-names, hand-holding, lazy Sundays, teasing each other when they woke up and talking about bullshit until they fell asleep. And Davey gave him all of it without a second glance.

Jack was hesitant to ask, at first. They'd fallen asleep on the couch - they were supposed to be studying, but Davey had found out Jack had never watched any of the Lord of The Rings movies and had spent the entire evening pausing every five minutes to eagerly share his Silmarillion trivia (Jack still hasn't gotten him to admit it yet, but he's pretty sure he can pinpoint Davey falling in love with him to the moment Jack asked why Viggo Mortensen kicking a helmet was so funny to him) - and they'd inevitably fallen asleep on top of each other, with Jack flat on his back and Davey splayed over him like the world's sweetest, sleepiest octopus.

("You really know how to make a guy feel hot, y'know that?"

"Bold of you to assume octopuses are not hot. Tentacle porn exists for a reason, Dave."

"See, I want to be mad at you for bringing up tentacle porn at brunch, but I'm more offended that you called them octopuses and not octopi.")

It was nice, having Davey over him - which, yes, got him some eyebrow waggles when he first admitted it, but it really wasn't like that. It was the weight of it, the reassurance of Davey's warmth encompassing his own, knowing that Davey was here, and he was here, pressed down firmly to the ground and not going anywhere. The sensation of it - the firmness on his chest that makes him feel every breath and every beat of his pulse, that tells him he's here and he's fine - it's like his whole brain's been washed clean.

"Pressure stimming," is the word Davey uses about two months later, a short while after Jack had finally realized that they were actually, exclusively, undeniably boyfriends and not just 'friends who are kind of maybe dating if Davey wants that maybe'. He'd walked into his bedroom in his and Crutchie's apartment to find Davey already there, lying face down on the bed - and Jack might've left it be, because he's had plenty of days where he just needs to lie face-down for a whole hour, but Davey telling him that he physically couldn't get off the bed was the thing that sent him panicking.

"It's not a big deal..." Davey's forefinger flicks up-and-down, up-and-down against one of Jack's many pillows as he speaks, the way he does when he has just slightly too much nervous energy. "It's just something I need sometimes. The way my energy is, it's like everything I do starts weighing down on me - and sometimes I can just let that weight off every now and then, and I'm fine - but sometimes I just... Need something. To support me."

Jack nods slowly, thinking of pillows and plushies and weighted blankets, and hovers his hand over the small of Davey's back.

"You need something, like... On top?" He cringes, because there's no way for that to not sound like an innuendo, but Davey only snorts into the comforter and shakes his head against the soft fabric.

"You're perfect," he smiles, so earnest that it makes Jack's chest squeeze, "but - no. I don't really like that. Feels like I'm being restrained."

Jack frowns, adds that to the little drawer in his brain marked Davey - a drawer that is becoming so cluttered and full of tiny details and special memories that it's almost overflowing - and bites his lip.

"I could, um..." Slowly, like Jack might spook him, he lowers himself onto the the bed next to him, raising his brows in question. "If you want?"

Davey stares at him for a moment - and then it's as if all the tension in his body just bleeds out of him, as he makes wanton little grabby-hands in Jack's direction. Jack laughs quietly, grabs him gently by the shoulders and pulls, rolling them until he's flat on his back and Davey's spreadeagled on top of him - and they both sigh from somewhere deep in their bones as they lean and are leaned upon, pressing and being pressed against each other, two solid weights supporting each other in place.

"I like this," Jack murmurs into Davey's hair as they rest. Davey makes a quiet chuffing sound into his clavicle and wriggles slightly, like a cat kneading a pillow, pressing them both impossibly closer as he settles.

"Oh, yeah?" He says quietly. "You like having a big octopus on top of you?"

"My exact words were sweetest and sleepiest octopus." Jack teases, tugging lightly on one of Davey's curls. "C'mon, English Major, those're some important words, there."

"You're so weird," Davey mumbles, but Jack can feel his smile pressing through his shirt, all the way to his skin, through the muscle, until it prints like ink on his breastbone. It holds him there, keeps him perfectly still and secure - and Jack breathes like he's tasting the air for the first time.

"I love you," he says quietly, because it's the only way he can even think to put what he's feeling into words. Davey would know better than him on that. He could write sonnets about this, pages and pages of prose about how it feels just to hold someone - but Jack's not a words guy. Give him a few hours with a canvas, and maybe he can get down a fraction of what he's feeling now, the barest impression of the thousands upon thousands of colours dancing inside his head like grass in the wind. But for now, he'll just say "I love you", and hope that it's enough.

He can feel Davey's throat flex against his sternum, can feel the way his body tenses, then ebbs, like the pull of the tide.

"I love you, too," he whispers.

It's so much more than enough.

[goldenblu]

ohhh my gosh that whole mask sanji idea has me REELING. sanji gains emotions the hard way but he's constantly questioning if it's real or not, if it's still an act, if it has ever been an act, who is his loyalty to now, to his country or his crew? which family? and maybe stealth black has been a mask as well, maybe that cruel, apathetic assassin is a product of pretending for the vinsmokes- so is there anything left of him that is not hollow desire to play for affection?

even if there isn't. the strawhats will love every part of him they find. maybe it will be hard at first, maybe they will feel betrayed and lost and angry. but he is nakama, and a mask is still a product of skin and bone. he has always been capable of being sanji.

like no pressure to continue on this idea in fic form but my god, if you have any more thoughts on this or anything like it i would pay to see them <3 it's so beautiful

YOU. YOU GET IT.

asdksfja;lksjf sanji realizes that he’s come to see the strawhats as something more than a target, a tool to use and then cast away.

(he doesn’t dare to think the word family because that would be a betrayal of his real family, wouldn’t it? it would be an admission of his failure, and he refuses to be a failure.)

it’s all part of the act, he tells himself. it doesn’t mean anything. it won’t last.

but it doesn’t change the fact that he remembers all the strawhats’ favorite foods, that he knows how tell when chopper needs a little hot chocolate pick-me-up, that fighting back to back with zoro feels in sync and familiar in a way that it shouldn’t. all of these useless pieces of information and instincts that he shouldn’t have but does anyway.

so sanji panics—and isn’t that a new experience for him, panicking. every time the strawhats look at him, they see someone who doesn’t actually exist, shouldn’t exist. it makes him feel some emotion that he’s never felt before and can’t identify. it’s terrible; he can’t stand to be this person he’s not for any longer.

maybe he’s the one to reveal his true identity and goal to the strawhats. because he knows he’s in too deep; he needs to cut these ties himself and finish the mission he should have finished long ago.

or maybe it’s not up to him at all, maybe judge sends one of his brothers to find him because he’s taking too long. ichiji or whoever shows up on the sunny, gets a laugh out of sanji trying to play house on a boat, and then announces that sanji doesn’t need to pretend anymore, it’s time to deal the finishing blow and return home with whatever information he’s acquired.

however it happens, sanji does the whole “my name is vinsmoke sanji” speech from wci except it’s real this time, and that’s how the truth comes out. which is fine, it doesn’t matter what the strawhats think of him. it’s better this way, it’s better that they know where sanji’s true loyalties lie: with germa.

(right? this has always been an indisputable fact. so why does he feel so conflicted about it now?)

i don’t know how the plot would play out from here but later, when push comes to shove, sanji realizes at the very last minute that all he’s doing is exchanging one mask for another. he can’t go back to how things were before—his father won’t like that one of his perfect sons is compromised with such weaknesses, but more than that, sanji doesn’t want to be the emotionless third prince of germa anymore.

(the thought he won’t allow himself to think: maybe he never did.)

he never realized before that it was possible to have the freedom to choose, but he does now. so he pulls an uno reverse card and instead of betraying the strawhats, he betrays the only life he’s ever known and saves the strawhats instead, very publicly turning his back on the vinsmokes. the details of how exactly this happens escape me but let’s assume he’s successful in telling germa to fuck off. (for now, at least. i imagine this doesn’t last since judge would be unimaginably angry and go after him, but that’s a problem for later sanji.)

regardless, when it’s all said and done, sanji doesn’t expect the strawhats to allow him back onto the crew. he’s not a good person, he’s deceived and killed hundreds of people in cold blood. he lied to them, betrayed them, pretended to be someone he’s not. the strawhats know that now. by all rights, they should want to kill him. most people would. sanji would.

but they don’t. sanji doesn’t know what they see in him, but whatever it is, it’s enough for luffy accept him even after everything he’s done. admittedly, the rest of the crew still has their reservations; it’s clear enough that they’re hurt and angry and wary of him.

you broke our trust, nami tells him.

i know. sanji hesitates, and then says, i’m sorry.

it’s new to him, this feeling of guilt eating away at him, and he almost stumbles over the words. he’s never had to apologize before, not genuinely. stealth black doesn’t apologize. stealth black doesn’t feel regret.

but he’s not stealth black anymore. he’s someone else. he doesn’t know who, exactly, but he does know who he wants to be. black leg sanji, the man who only existed on this ship for these past few weeks/months, the man who was capable of caring and being cared for—sanji wants that to be real.

luffy’s giving you a chance to rebuild it, nami says. so don’t waste it.

it’s hard, at first. sanji has never not had to play a role before so now he’s confronted with the question: what parts of him are the result of the persona he puts on and what parts are truly sanji? he’s worn a mask in some form or another for so long—certain things are so ingrained in him that he can’t tell the difference anymore.

the next time he cooks dinner, he wonders: is this desire to feed his the crew real, or is it a leftover habit from black leg sanji? the next time he kills someone for going after the strawhats, he wonders: this ruthless capacity for violence, does that come from himself or from vinsmoke sanji?

but maybe it doesn’t matter where it came from because he can make it his. because nothing can take away the fact that for the first time, sanji is doing what he wants to do and not just what he’s told to do.

he says as much to luffy, who smiles and responds, i always knew you could do it.

and over time, the strawhats begin to trust him again. usopp stops being quite so nervous around him. nami starts working on her maps in the galley again, and this time sanji doesn’t have to lie when she asks him questions about the islands he’s been to. zoro tells him that he’d better not hold back during their spars, so sanji stops trying to hide it and lets his sharp edges stay sharp and dangerous and deadly. chopper learns the truth about sanji’s physical enhancements but it doesn’t stop him from worrying over him anyway, which makes sanji’s chest feel warm for some reason.

(and that’s a whole other thing—now sanj has to figure out how the fuck he’s supposed to deal with having emotions because holy shit do you people feel this way all the time?? it’s so much, it’s overwhelming.

he keeps having to ask: what is this feeling or that feeling or that feeling?? and everyone teaches him: fear. sadness. happiness. all things that sanji once thought were impossible for him to feel.)

he still struggles to balance kindness and cruelty sometimes—though he’s capable of feeling compassion now, it’s mainly only ever for the strawhats, and he’s still merciless to anyone he considers an enemy. in any case, his crew is there to support him, to help him figure out: who is he in the absence of everything that’s defined the last nineteen years of his life?

the answer? the cook of the strawhat pirates, sanji. just sanji. that’s who he is and who he’ll always be.