#this came out fine. I just wanted to turn my brain off and draw

[ishiitake]

Don’t get upset Harvey, it just makes you cuter.

[xxsabitoxx]

Experience

Kishibe x Fem! Reader

Warnings: large age gap (reader is in her 20s but it’s unspecified) and Kishibe is 50, car sex, hand job, degrading, praising, smoking

A/N: this was meant to be a short 1-1.5k Drabble but it turned into a mini smut instead (my brain is weird so some of y’all may still consider this a Drabble or you may consider it a full fic… idk man) anywho here he is :)

Word count: 2.6k

“You… you can’t be serious, oneechan.” Denji was staring at you with an udon noodle hanging between his lips. You chuckled at Denji’s constant use of calling you “big sis” — Aki had reprimanded him forever ago about using formalities with you. You had told him senpai was far too much and that calling you oneechan was fine. Still, it made you chuckle that it was the only nickname he ever stuck too with no bribery needed. Aki still used the gum tactic to get Power and Denji to use the correct terms while addressing him.

“I am serious.” The smile never left your face, watching as Denji slurped his noodle the rest of the way. “But why? He’s so old! Hell he’s over half your age! Ain’t he like 50 or something? And you’re like 20-something? I doubt he can even get his dick hard!” You rolled your eyes, laughter bubbling in your chest as Denji’s clear shock at your crush on his mentor. You’d known Kishibe since you joined public safety a few years prior, having worked alongside Aki when it came to training under the man’s brutal regime.

“Oh I doubt that. Kishibe is a man of experience, he probably has over 30 years worth with women.” Denji still couldn’t see how that would appeal to you, if anything he thought it should be a turn off. “That’s 30 years of use. You’ll probably catch a disease.” At that you couldn’t help but snort, putting your cigarette to your lips and inhaling. “Just think about it for a second, Denji. Wouldn't you want a woman that knows what she’s doing? One that would know how to take care of you?”

“I mean yeah, but maybe a woman that’s only a couple years older than me. You’re going after a man that was well into adulthood by the time you were born.” You shook your head, finding it rather funny that Denji was seemingly peeved by this. “That’s real bold coming from you, Denji-kun.” The blonde quirked his eyebrow, eyeing you suspiciously as he went in for yet another helping. “You and your crush on Makima? The fact that she seems to reciprocate your advances? Kinda a similar situation… but mine is legal.”

You shrugged your shoulders, blowing the smoke you had inhaled. “Yah, whatever… go for your creepy old man then.” He stuck his tongue out as you rolled your eyes, a victorious smile still present on your lips. “No really…” he drawled softly “he’s right there.” You froze, head whipping around to the direction Denji had motioned to. Sure enough, Kishibe was sitting at the bar, a glass of whisky in front of him… typical. You turned back to Denji, utterly mortified. “You don’t think he heard us, do you?” The blonde shrugged, a shit eating grin creeping up his face.

“Denji!” You whisper yelled this time, face growing warm. “Huh?” He spoke a little louder than necessary “I don’t think he heard? What’s the big deal anyways? Ain’t you want him to know? So you can like…actually do something about ya crush?” He drawled loudly, enough to draw a few wandering eyes to your table. “N-not the point! Shut up!” You were snuffing out your cigarettes on the underside of the table seconds later, ready to make a quick escape before Kishibe could even notice you there.

The problem being, you knew your old mentor fairly well. It was more than likely that he was already aware of your presence. Not only that but you were nearly positive he’d probably heard you and Denji talking about him. You wouldn’t be able to escape him unless you put a conscious effort into sneaking out of here. Even then, he’d find a way to corner you and ask you what the hell was going on. “Eh, whatever oneechan… at least I have the guts to go for the people I like.” Now you knew you were done for.

If Denji was going to make this a game of confidence, you’d have to do your “big sister” duties and simply one up him. “You’re a pain in my ass.” You scoffed, watching the grin return to the blonde’s face as you pushed your chair out. “You can thank me later.” Was all he said, returning to his udon as you made your way to the bar. “Captain Kishibe.” You fought to keep your voice steady. Kishibe turned to look at you, the usual stoic expression on his face.

“Come to talk to the creepy old man sitting alone at the bar?” He chimed softly, watching your face morph into embarrassment as he confirmed your biggest fear. He heard everything you and Denji had said. “Blame blondey over there for that nickname. Guessing that if you heard what Denji had to say you also heard what I had to say.” Your arms clasped behind your back, fidgeting with your fingers nervously as you waited for him to speak.

Kishibe swirled his glass around, watching the amber liquid slosh before he brought it to his lips and downed the rest. “Oh, I did. Not that I’m shocked… you’re far more transparent with your emotions than you think you are, y/n.” You could have melted on the spot, seeped straight into the floorboards and disappeared forever. Instead, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, willing yourself to grow some confidence and test the waters. It didn’t seem he was necessarily shutting you down just yet.

“Well… I guess this was a pretty lame ass way of saying I have a thing for my old mentor.” Kishibe leaned back, eyes shutting briefly as he inhaled through his nose. “You’re just looking for someone to show you a good time. Tell me, have you ever actually enjoyed any of the men you’ve slept with?” His eyes opened and he turned to face you fully now, tapping the wooden top of the bar twice to signal that he was ready to pay his tab. “Truthfully, no.” A breathy chuckle left him, one that sent shivers down your spine.

“I see. I guess that would make it my duty, Hmm? Your old mentor has to show you the ropes… show you the good from the bad. A private lesson, if you would.” You didn’t quite know how to react, your brain working in overdrive to try and process the words he had just spoken. “S-so you’re saying you’ll…” you flinched at your own stutter, watching Kishibe eye you carefully. “That I’ll show you how a man properly satisfies a lady? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Sugar.” Your heart jumped at the nickname.

You found it hard to speak, instead you kept your mouth shut and watched your old mentor pay his tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. “I paid for the fool’s meal as well as yours, he’ll get home on his own just fine. Let’s go.” Kishibe was heading towards the door, you waited till he was facing away to shoot Denji a look. The blonde seemed a bit awestruck that you were already leaving with him, you just shrugged as you left. You’d probably have to apologize the next time you saw him.

Before you knew it you were slipping into the passenger side of Kishibe’s car, thanking him softly for opening and closing the door for you. He slipped on the other side a moment later, turning the key so the engine roared to life. “I didn’t think you were the car type.” You commented softly, eyes scanning the amount of gadgets that littered the dashboard. The car’s interior was all black leather, that was at least something you expected from him.

“I’m not but the holiday bonus was nice and I needed an upgrade anyways.” He cracked his window, lighting up a cigarette before pulling out of the restaurant’s small lot and out into the bustling street. You didn’t expect him to be nervous, nor did you expect him to be awkward about the situation. Yet you were practically squirming in your seat, hoping he’d show some sort of nervousness to help you feel less inexperienced.

His cigarette hung half hazardously from his lips, one hand on the wheel while the other came down to rest on your thigh. You nearly choked on your own saliva, heat pooling in your gut at the simple action. “Amuse me, would you? What’s the best thing a guy has done for you, Hmm?” Smoke puffed out around his cigarette, eyes locked on the road as he waited for your response. “Offer to walk me home.” You admitted sheepishly, not quite sure how he’d react to such a lame response. It was true your taste in men hadn’t really benefited you in any way up until now.

He let out a gruff laugh, slowing down as he pulled up to a red light and plucked the cigarette from his lips. “That’s it? Seriously? Where the hell are you finding these bummy men?” You weren’t sure why his clear annoyance affected you the way it did, but you found yourself struggling to not press your thighs together. A small effort to relieve some of the ache, you knew if you moved your legs even a little he’d feel it. Then again, he was driving you back to his apartment to fuck you… would it really matter? “No need to be tense.” He murmured softly, hand squeezing your thigh.

“…’m not tense.” A stupid lie but it made him chuckle so you couldn’t really be mad at it. “Let me help you relax.” The cigarette was back between his lips, hand on the wheel as the light turned green. Kishibe pushed on your thigh, silently asking you to spread them. It took your brain a few seconds to properly respond, spreading them just enough that he could fit his hand between them. “Atta girl…” smoke puffed out around his lips once again, filling your nose in an almost intoxicating way. You were a bit shocked by the praise, nearly letting a whimper slip out.

The man you knew as your mentor was certainly not the same as the man sitting beside you. Then again you doubted he would ever woo the amount of women he did with his mentor attitude. Kishibe’s hand gingerly crept up your thigh before dipping between to cup your panty covered cunt. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing a skirt, giving the man in the driver's seat easy access to where you wanted him the most. He could feel your warmth radiating through the thin material, on top of that he could tell you were already wet.

Kishibe exhaled deeply, forcing himself to remain focused on the road even though he’d really like to look over and gauge your reaction. Truthfully, he had been waiting patiently for quite some time now for you to be the one to make the first move. He wasn’t lying when he said you were transparent with your emotions, but even then he didn’t want to risk creating awkward situations. He was getting old after all, a fifty year old man going for a woman in her twenties would certainly look terrible on his part if the other party didn’t reciprocate.

Maybe he was just a creepy old pervert for thinking that way.

Regardless, it was starting to get hard to ignore the persistent stiffness between his own legs. You’re breathing had hitched, suddenly dizzied by the fact that his hands were already on you. Two fingers pressed against the wetmark on your panties, drawing a sigh from your lips as he rubbed the material softly. “You’re more excited than you let on.” it was an off hand comment, one that had your fingers gripping the door handle to keep yourself grounded. Kishibe’s fingers slid along your slit, settling over your pulsing clit.

“You’ve said no man has ever satisfied you… I take it because he didn’t know where this was…” he pressed down, sending a shock of pleasure through you. Your mouth opened but nothing came out, slowly he began rubbing tentative circles, making sure you keep his fingers on the cloth of your panties. He wouldn’t let you feel his bare fingers just yet. More smoke puffed out, filling the car briefly before being sucked out the window. “I asked you a question, sugar.” you turned to look at him, face warm as his fingers continued to pleasure you. “T-that would be right…”

“Every woman is different, is this good for you?” you knew he was referring to his current action. “Y-yeah but…” you reached for his hand, placing yours over his as you guided him to a faster tempo. Kishibe took the reins again instantly, chuckling softly as you let out a soft moan. “Hmm, that better?” it was low, enough you send shivers through you as your hips jerked into his hand. “Need more…” you couldn’t quite figure out what specifically you needed, you just knew you needed more of him. “I know.” was all he said, fingers working you up continuously as he drove.

Part of you had to wonder if he was even driving you to his apartment at this point. It felt like you were going in circles around the city as he got you off in his front seat. Before you knew it, you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. “S-shit…” you clenched around nothing, the tension in your gut had appeared a lot quicker than usual. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” he teased softly, fingers picking up speed ever so slightly. You mumbled out some sort of ‘yes’, gasping softly as the tension continued to build.

Maybe it was the combination of everything, Kishibe, his hand, the fact that he was doing this almost absentmindedly while driving through the city, everything was edging you on. “Then cum for me. Show me how much of a little slut you are. I mean really, you’re going to cum from me rubbing you through your panties. You’ll ruin them.” You whined at his words, the tension building so intensely that you were certain you’d fall apart. “Atta girl…cum for me” encouraged again, rolling to a stop at yet another red light.

He looked over at you know, the sudden motion causing you to turn to look at him. “C’mon… no need to hold back.” he sneered, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You felt your lower lip tremble, head turning to look back at the road as your orgasm crashed down over you. Breathless gasps escaped your lips, hand shooting down to hold Kishibe’s wrist as he continued to work you through your ogasm. “…ough… enough…” you squeaked, overstimulation taking over as the light turned green.

He only slowed because of the light turning green, hand never retracting from where it was between your legs. “Here we are.” He commented offhand, pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building. You blinked, the throb already returning. “Hope you’re not worn out… I haven’t even gotten to show you a proper good time.” He pulled into a numbered space, shifting into park and plucking the nearly gone cigarette from his lips. You watched him put it out on an ashtray in his cup holder, turning the car off a moment later.

“Well?” You shivered as his hand pulled away, making you want to chase after him. “Y-yeah…I’m not worn out. Hell, after your training it’s hard to ever get worn out these days…captain.” You teased softly, not knowing where the confidence came from. A smile actually tugged at his lips, hand reaching for the door handle and pushing it open. “I’ll remember that, sugar.” For some reason, you felt as if you had just dug your own grave.

[17caratssi]

My darling, honey pt 2 ; Jeon Wonwoo

part 1 is here!

You had been married to your teenage crush for three years and it was a wondrous journey added to the fact you just learned that you'd swallowed a watermelon seed.

Wonwoo was still working his ass off during the weekend and after he returned, you began preparing some light breakfast for him.

While he waited at the suffice dining table and stared at your back, he repeatedly expressed his regret as he was unable to spend the weekend together.

"It's fine. We have a lot of time together, don't dwell on it," you reassured albeit knowing he won't feel any better. Wonwoo became one with the silence and you were already used to it. He never spoke unless it was about you or something you asked for his opinion.

You finished with the cooking and he did the plating. Last night, he worked for only four hours but since he was called in the dawn, he felt sleepy quite a bit and you were the opposite.

As you both were eating, he looked at you oddly. You ceased to stop and raised an eyebrow, indicating your curiosity. "Are you done? Just leave the plate and go resume your sleep,"

Wonwoo shook his head and held your hand. Perhaps his palm was radiating so much warmth, you leaned forward in the coziness. "Hun, do you have something to tell me?" you asked.

Presented with ambivalence, Wonwoo took a minute to reply. He thought deeply before saying, "Don't you think I've been resting a lot these days?"

You could tell he was dourly asking. You have read it somewhere that if the husband loves his wife so dearly, he will experience early pregnancy fatigue rather than the wife. Thinking about how it related to his situation, you grinned.

Wonwoo smiled as if he was entranced by your reaction. He gave a gentle rub on your cheek and patted the back of your hand. He then told you to go upstairs and rest as he helped with the dishes.

You didn't refuse and went as he directed. There was nothing in your brain than the thought of how you should tell Wonwoo about your pregnancy.

While you pondered, he already completed the chore and got himself ready for the shower. Wonwoo looked bushed and you pitied him. After he came out from the wet, you beckoned him to the bed. Since he had changed his clothes inside, he didn't waste any time and ambled to you.

"I have something to tell you,"

Wonwoo hauled your whole body and answered. "Yes?" he was feeling cold and decreased the gap between your bodies. Seeing how comfy he appeared, on impulse, you straddled him and laid on top.

He took a different hint and whispered. "You want it?" Wonwoo asked with apparent lust. You let his hands explore your back but when he was getting dangerously near to your sensitive area, you grabbed his wrist and put a halt to it.

"We can't. Someone will see," you said. Attentively, Wonwoo kissed your neck and mumbled. "The outside? I'll draw the curtain," he sounded titillated and you honestly underestimated your own self-control. It was such a turn-on to see him inflamed but your conscience rushed in.

"No. Not outside but here," you brought his hand to your belly and reposed. Wonwoo didn't quite catch the periphrastic way you were telling but once he realized, the sparkling bright eyes shone even more brilliantly.

"Is it what I think it is?" he asked softly, almost audible. His palm smoothed around your belly and he looked at it. Wonwoo didn't need to ask twice as you clarified his question in a single nod.

You and Wonwoo had waited for 3 years and were confronted with many thrown doubts regarding your fertility. It wasn't something anyone can forget and take it lightly and so you began seeing specialists every few months to check on your body.

At first, Wonwoo did argue with you about it and at one point, you gave him a cold shoulder for a week. He wasn't easy to be persuaded but one day, he followed you for your regular check-up. On the way back, you requested to ride the bus instead. You two came by taxi and Wonwoo has no problem granting your wish.

After you picked your seat, Wonwoo got to his and sat quietly. You were having mixed feelings about today and leaned against your husband. "Are you alright?"

Wonwoo's response was fast but did not answer the question. He kissed your temple and said. "Let me know if you're going to your appointment next time. We'll go together," his mellow voice sang sorrow. You looked up to see his face and there hidden a hint of sadness in his beautiful eyes.

The journey home was blue that day, he knew his love for you was deep but not as much as the worries within.

Wonwoo was used to your prank and all but this news would never be one of them. After many attempts and tears, you two were gifted with a sunny revelation. He let out a light-hearted laugh and announced. "You're pregnant,"

"Y/N, you're pregnant!"

Wonwoo continued to have couvade episodes until the second trimester came by. Your belly swelled later than most women you knew. They told you it was normal for your bump to be small and even your husband assured you there was nothing to fret about.

Once it got bigger, you felt shy to stand bare naked in front of Wonwoo. You even made a fuss when he wanted to shower with you. "No, it's ugly. You will hate it,"

You only earned his grimace and a company for the bath. Wonwoo hissed as he smeared the shower gel over your body. His dissatisfaction was then voiced out, "How can you say this hideous? I'm the hideous one,"

You glared at him and covered his mouth. "Don't say that. It'll make it sound like I don't have a taste for marrying an ugly man," and that had Wonwoo cracked, you followed suit.

Out of blue, you felt something poking behind you. You flicked his head and pinched his waist. Flustered, you sheepishly exposed him. "Why are you getting hard?"

"Ignore that. You're just too sexy and I'm a pervert,"

"Yeah, a pervert," you chuckled with your hands fondling him already.

You and Wonwoo didn't have extensive exercise the whole pregnancy, fear if you'll get hurt. However, one night, you woke him up wanting to do it. He did it so gently that you squirmed around and begged him.

"Go harder.."

"No, honey. You're near due,"

Wonwoo had a hard time practicing abstinence in your later weeks. He hadn't done it for almost a month and he thank God for not testing him too much. Seeing how seductive you acted that night, he went out of his principle and pleased you.

He was feeling bliss all over but you were his priority. He felt the familiar sensation inside you and he smiled. "Come for me," he knew it won't take him long to bring you an orgasm. He kissed your neck and thrust a few times more before he had you ended.

Panting, you loosened your arms around his torso and asked. "Did you come? Don't lie to me,"

Wonwoo was about to tell a lie when you added. He didn't dare to ejaculate inside after he learned that semen can cause contractions. He then flashed an apologetic smile at you. "I can use my hand,"

Wonwoo never used his hands and you've long known. That hurt your heart even more. You pushed him off and got up to wash.

Whether you were pregnant or not, Wonwoo wasn't close to tranquil if you were in the bathroom for a long period. He knocked on the door for the third time and asked if you needed any help but you chose to not answer.

After a while, you finished and silently left the bathroom. The sky was still dark and your husband wasn't in the bed. "Wonwoo?" you called him, slow-voiced.

Where did he go? Is he mad when I threw tantrum just now? You felt conflicted. He rarely let you sleep alone when he's home and now he did. Rather than furious, you wanted to see him.

But even after the nth time of calling him from the room, he still didn't reply. The after-sex effect kicked in and you began to yawn. No sign of Wonwoo getting into bed and you retired soon.

As soon as you hit the pillow, you couldn't open your eyes anymore. Having no desire to resist the sleepiness, you fell asleep and Wonwoo returned home to a sleeping wife.

He put the bag of condoms in the cabinet and properly snuggled against you on the bed. He had taken a shower downstairs before going out but he was afraid you'd wake up to his smell. It happened before and you had him slept on the floor the entire week.

Wonwoo stared at you as you fell deeper into slumber and fixed your position. Your round belly looked adorable and he recalled the moments when you cried because your swollen feet hurt.

He had hurried home that evening and massaged your legs with his uniform on. "Hubby," you sniffed, wanting his attention.

"Yes?"

Your face poker and you stayed silent for a good five minutes until you broke out of character. "I love you," you confessed out of nowhere.

With your nose running with a snort, Wonwoo laughed and hugged you. "Honey, if you keep being like this, I don't know how to survive,"

Wonwoo had lost count of how many times had he rushed home because you called him crying. He was always worried even though he may have an idea of what was happening.

Little things that you do to gain his attention basked him in elation. His love for you has grown impassioned and somehow anticipates the baby to come into this world of his and yours.

Before it reached dawn, Wonwoo was first to feel the wet bed and woke up. In a daze, he didn't quickly stir you but rather checked the ceiling.

However, it was your moaning had his head turned to you, full attention. "The baby- I think the baby's coming," you winced as you spoke. He can tell from your labored breathing that it must hurt.

Fortunately, you had been reminding him to get the maternity bag ready in his car. You were around his arms as he carried your weight to the car and placed you gently in the backseat.

As he drove to the emergency department, you told him you can bear the pain but he wasn't buying. Wonwoo got out and called for a team to attend to you. They instantly brought all the necessary equipment to the vehicle and performed the procedure.

Wonwoo was guided to the registration counter and while you were pushed into the waiting hall, the only thing that kept you conscious at the moment was his arrival.

You wanted him to be by your side so badly and if you suddenly had an emergency labor without him, you honestly would cry.

Perhaps, the baby wished to see his parents immediately, you were out into labor just several hours after that, and Wonwoo was permitted into the room.

The entire process was both scary and exciting for you. On one hand, you fret if you are drained out of energy while pushing the baby out but on the other, your husband was very collected about the whole situation.

"Honey, we can see the head already. Just a little push and we're going to meet our child,"

"I know you can. Grip my hand tighter as you push,"

You didn't know what was along his sentence that moved you but tears ran down your face and you made your last exertion in his presence.

The loud wailing was an end to your suffering. Wonwoo stayed with you and only when the midwives called to cut the umbilical cord he came about.

Days after you had the little one downright changed but Wonwoo never stopped giving his unreserved attention to both of you. He would promptly take care of the child in the middle of the night since you'd had it in the morning when he was out to work.

It was a challenging period as it was Wonwoo's first experience as a father. He took a lot of advice from his parents and other people and in the blink of an eye, the child is now two years old.

At first, many said that the baby took your features but he seemed to be the carbon copy of his father. His first word was 'mummy' but all he called now was 'daddy'.

"Daddy, pick me,"

"Daddy, toys,"

Daddy here, daddy there. You couldn't help but feel bitter inside. You and Wonwoo did spend equal time with your son but his blatant preference made you green. But maybe part of him inherited from how clingy you were to your husband. “He’s just like you, Y/N,”

He gifted a peck on your jaw and smiled softly. Suddenly, a voice from the little one chimed in. “Mummy, no!” and cause a rupture of laughter from the adults. You teased him by giving his favorite person more kisses. “Daddy’s mine,”

Wonwoo will never have this memory faded. He’s glad that you confessed to him that day.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

If you like this story, you might as well check out the others here !

[just-jordie-things]

love, death, and curses - toge inumaki

word count: 6k warnings: swearing, gore, stabbing summary: near death experiences make people confess the funniest things ___

A simple assignment.  It’s always the simple assignments that go horribly wrong, isn’t it? It must be some sick joke.  Why couldn’t things just go right for once? A break would be nice… but there were no breaks in this line of work.

“Fuck!”

(y/n) dropped herself to the ground before the four-eyed curse throwing itself at her could actually hit her.  With no time to catch her breath, she threw herself back, pulled the ring knife out of the holster on her thigh, and even with her hazy sight she was able to fling the small weapon into it’s skull.

Nope, no breaks.  Just knives and evil spirits.

“Tuna!”

Toge’s worried voice carried from some twenty feet away, or wherever he was taking on more grade threes’ than he probably should have, but even as (y/n) tried to make her way to help him, it just seemed more spirits were spawning.

“I’m fine!” She hollered back.

With a kick to the curse’s disappearing body, it rolled over and she was able to retrieve her knife.  Just in the knick of time as three more curses approached.

This wasn’t looking good.

And things had been so nice this morning. ___

~ earlier that day ~

“Mustard leaf”

Finger stalling on the line in the book she was reading, (y/n) glanced behind her, a smile blossoming on her face as her favorite cursed speech user approached.

She’d been studying in the common room all morning, and it was about time some better entertainment rolled around.  And with a cute language and cuter face, here it was.

“Hey,” She greeted him back, and moved over on the couch so there was room for him to sit.  “You here to save me from my studying?”

From the crinkles around his eyes, she knew he was grinning as he plopped down on the couch next to her.

“Salmon” He chuckled to himself.

Truth was, he’d been working himself up all morning trying to find a way to ask (y/n) out, to a movie or dinner or anything she wanted to do at all.  He’s been trying to do it for a while, but it’s hard when you can’t exactly just say the words.

(That was kind of a copout, there was always writing on the post-its he kept in his pocket, or taking her hand and staring deep into her eyes, but he wasn’t exactly the most experienced when it came to these things, and he really wanted to sweep her off her feet)

So now here he was, blushing like crazy under his collar, his hands fidgeting together, with about fifteen crumpled up post-its in his jacket pocket with everything he’d had prepared for this moment.

And this was the moment.  He’d decided.  He didn’t want to put it off any longer, and he’d told himself all morning that no matter what, he was going to ask her out!

(Panda was a big help too, but he was trying to not think about him right now)

“You alright?” (y/n) asked, drawing Toge out of his scrambling brain.

His brows furrowed, confused.

“You’re just quieter than usual,” She explained, laughing a bit.  “Usually you’re talking my ear off.  Remember at the market, that lady thought you were yelling at me about how to make rice balls?”

She laughs more at the memory, and it was a funny one, but Toge can only bring himself to force out a few chuckles.

“So what is it then?” She asks, closing her textbook and tossing it onto the coffee table so that he could have her attention.

Admittedly, he’d already had her attention as soon as he’d walked into the room.  He always did.  It didn’t matter what was in front of her, if Toge appeared, she was a goner.

(One time she was waxing Maki’s eyebrows when Toge appeared.  Maki still hasn’t forgiven her for taking half of the left one.  Even after it grew back)

He shakes his head, mumbling a ‘salmon’, which (y/n) assumes was meant to assure her he was alright, but it wasn’t all that convincing.

“Toge…” (y/n) said softly, turning her body sideways on the cushion to give him more of her attention.  “I think I know what this is about…”

His eyes go wide.

Did she? Was he so transparent? Had he been embarrassing himself this whole time?

“Yuuta hasn’t written in a while,” She sighed.

Oh.  Right.  That guy.

(Yuuta was one of Toge’s closest friends, but he hadn’t been anywhere close to present in his mind currently)

“I miss him too.  But he’s probably just busy, it’s a pretty serious assignment you know,”

Toge’s frozen for a moment, processing her assumption.  Unfortunately, (y/n) took his silence for sadness, and she continued on.

“I know that he thinks about us all the time though,” She said cheerfully, before shoving her elbow into his side.  “But who wouldn’t, right?”

The teasing is friendly, and normally he’d laugh and joke along happily.  But his nerves are eating him up inside and he feels really hot- was it hot in here? The common room was known for having a busted ac unit that always had a breeze in the room, and now here he was sweating.  

“He’ll write soon enough.  Probably with some crazy story.  It’s always something weird with him” (y/n) says.  She’s so reassuring and kind.  If only this was advice he was actually looking for.

With a small, defeated sigh, Toge nods his head.

And not too long after, Gojo bursts into the room, excited to have found the pair, and claiming he had a quick assignment for them.  Leaving no good time for asking someone on a date, Toge mentally cursed his sensei for his notorious bad timing. ___

~ present ~

Things weren’t getting any easier, and (y/n) was starting to think Fushiguro was onto something for being so cranky about Gojo’s nonchalant attitude, because in no way was this assignment simple.

I’m gonna give that man a piece of my mind if I make it out of this alive.

Ring daggers could only be so good of a weapon.  Right now a sword would be more practical, like Yuuta’s katana.  Or better hand to hand skills, like Maki.  Hell, being a 6’7 bear would be more of a help than what she had on hand.

And she loved her ring daggers, she trained with them relentlessly.  But one of the four she had on her was already gone, disappeared with a curse carcass that disintegrated faster than expected.  She’d have to get better used to another weapon, because this was just getting frustrating.

Another knife flew through the air with such speed she was certain it’d hit her target.

But the particular four eyed- curse’s head she’d aimed for swerved, and the dagger whizzed right past it, before clattering to the ground, far out of reach.

(y/n) grimaced.  No way some grade two curse was able to dodge a swift attack like that.

This was no grade two.

Realization dawned on her, eyes widening as she quickly glanced around her, noticing how all the other curses they’d been fighting seemed to form a circle around this one.

They were protecting it? Hive mind? On their own accord?

Her train of thought ran a million miles a minute trying to find the answer to this behavior, but as quickly as she was trying to solve this odd mystery, she heard a yelp of surprise, and the sound of Toge’s struggle destroyed her worry about anything else but him.

“Toge!” She screeched, watching him get thrown back a few feet.  His landing wasn’t all that graceful, but he pushed himself back up to his feet without too much struggle.

“Salmon!” He hollered back before even catching his breath.

He couldn’t have (y/n) looking over her shoulder for him.  There were too many of these damn things, and she needed to focus on herself, not him.

“Look!” (y/n) called to him, pointing to the odd curse that had dodged her knife.  “I think that one’s in charge or something!”

Violet eyes follow her gesture, and just as quickly as she had, he notices the strange pattern in which most of the curses surround the one.  He nods back at her, understanding what she was telling him.

Well, at least he thought he understood.  He didn’t think she’d charge after the damn thing to take it on herself.

And yet before he could blink, she was grabbing her last two daggers out of their sheaths, and breaking into a sprint towards the curse without a second longer of hesitation.

He caught himself before he could call after her to wait.  However, just as he was about to make his way over to help her, it seemed a horde of the four-eyed nuisances were crowding before him.

He allowed himself a mutter of curses under his breath before unzipping his collar to take care of them.

Meanwhile (y/n) was confidently approaching the little ringleader.  At this point, she was taking this thing down no matter what it took.

It was agile, and able to elude more of her attacks than any grade two could.  In fact, she had her assumptions that it could have been a grade one, if it were this strong and also powerful enough to gather other curses to protect it.

And after a tiring bout of slashing towards it only for it to duck and dodge, she was starting to think that it was mocking her.  And this made her agitated.

And angry.

She’d trained for many years to perfect the craft of exorcizing curses.  Sure, there were always new things to learn, but she considered herself pretty damn good at what she did, because she stuck to a few simple rules.  

And her number one rule was to stay sharp.  The better an eye is at inspecting an environment, the less likely a surprise can happen.  So emotions like fear and anger were red flags.

So she should have seen it coming.

But in an instant, the knife she had gripped in hand and plummeting towards the space between all four of the curse’s eyes, was swiped right out from her hold.

With one hand the curse had taken her wrist, halting her attack.  Then it took advantage of her shock to steal her weapon.

After that, everything seemed to blur together.

A really sharp pain in her abdomen.  

That hurt.

Warmth, then heat, pooling over her skin.  

Wet?

Blood?

Almost in slow motion, she looked down.

Her own knife.  In the hand of a curse.  Buried in her guts.

It seemed surreal, in the most horrific way possible.  In what world she thought her death would come from her own negligence- her own weapon damn it! Her anger was only set aflame.  With self preservation and fury colliding in her bones, she found herself acting without thought.

As Toge was trying to fight through the raw pain in his sore throat, he was contemplating a bit of hand to hand until he could spare a second to chug down his medicine and obliterate what was left of the curses.  He didn’t want to risk rushing it and losing what little medicine he had left.

The answer came to him before he could do anything, and right before his eyes, the curses he’d been fighting off started to disappear.

At first he was on guard, surprised, confused.  But as the area around him began to clear and he saw the curse (y/n) had been fighting with was crumpled to the ground, a knife in the middle of it’s face, it clicked.

He chugged down the rest of his medicine before jogging over to her.

It’s over.

(y/n) fought to keep her eyes open, and to keep her hand covering the wound in her abdomen.  At least the fabric of her shirt was black, so the blood wasn’t so visible.

“Mustard leaf!”

Fighting to keep her vision straight, (y/n) could barely make out the double Toge heading towards her.

Toge.

“Mustard leaf!” He called out again when she hadn’t responded, worried she’d hit her head or something.

He can’t know.

She pressed her palm harder into her stomach, biting down on her cheek to keep from groaning aloud.

As Toge approached, he was clapping, cheering for her.

He was so sweet.

“Salmon roe!”

He was grinning from ear to ear, she could just barely make it out, but it made her feel warm that he was so proud of her.

Or maybe that was all the blood spilling over her hand.

She stumbled forward towards him, and he abandoned his excitement and was reaching out to steady her instantly.

With furrowed brows he waited for her to explain, to tell him what hurt, or to tell him she’d be okay.  But she didn’t say anything.

In fact, she could barely keep eye contact with him, her gaze kept shifting around, as though she didn’t have control over it.

“Mustard leaf?” He asked, concerned, his eyes flickering between hers, hoping to catch her attention.

“I-” Her voice got caught in her throat, and she coughed to try to cover for herself, but from what she could make out from Toge’s expression, she wasn’t doing well.  “I’m f-fine, I’m okay” She forced the words out with as little a stammer as possible.

Toge wasn’t believing it.

“Bonito flakes”

His voice was harsh.  He was upset.

Normally (y/n) was comfortable voicing when she had an injury.  They both were.  They always reassured each other they were okay after missions.  Especially particularly difficult ones.  So for her to be blatantly lying irked him.

But without the ability to say anything else, all he could do was glare and grumble while he pulled out his phone to get Ijichi the ‘ready for pickup’ text.

The haze in (y/n’s) was turning to dark.  Like black clouds.

I’m going to die.

She blinked a few times, trying to focus her vision well enough to keep herself upright at least.

Am I swaying? I feel like I’m not standing upright.

That awful slow-motion feeling came back as she lowered her head to focus on her feet, just to make sure they were both planted on the ground.

Before she could even notice her feet, her eyes landed on her blood covered hand, and suddenly a wave of nausea hit her.

“T-Toge,” She stuttered out, clutching her hand tighter to her stomach, and forcing herself to look up at him.  “I-I’m sorry,”

Her voice broke into a whimper, effectively washing away any annoyance Toge had been feeling, and now he was worried immensely.  

He shook his head in confusion, silently asking her what was going on.

“I…” She trailed off, her head going light.  “I can barely keep my eyes open”

She was losing feeling in her legs completely now.

“Mustard leaf?” He asked, reaching his hands out to her shoulders, steadying the slight swaying she was starting to do.

And then she stumbled forward, falling almost completely against him.

“Mustard leaf!?” He asked a little louder, hoping she would be able to tell him what was going on.

But as he secured his arms around her, he felt something on his hand.

Something warm.

And wet.

No.

“Mustard leaf?”

That time, the question came out a lot smaller.  Quieter.

Shakily, he brought his hand out, confirming his fear when he saw the blood.

“It’s- it’s okay,” (y/n) stammered, lifting her heavy head from his shoulder.

But Toge was already looking her over for the source of the blood.

“It’s just a little scratch-”

“Bonito flakes!”

Prying her hand away from her abdomen, it was like he was living a nightmare.

Her hand was stained in red, and from the looks of the hole in her shirt, this wasn’t even a scratch.

He wants to scold her, cuss her out for hiding an injury like this from him.  He wants to comfort her, tell her she’ll be okay and he’d take care of her now and do whatever was needed to fix her up.

Even if he was able to speak, he wouldn’t have been able to.  His throat closed up and hot tears rose to his eyes so fast, anything that came out would have been a stuttered, blubbering mess.

“I didn’t-” (y/n) coughed, and he tried his best to wipe the blood from her lips, but she swatted his hand away.  “Listen,”

Her half-lidded eyes met his, and she hoped he’d just shut up so she could say what she needed to.  She didn’t know when she’d pass out, but she knew it was coming.

“I… I j-just didn’t want t-to h-hurt you,” Her words are a bit slur and she can’t fight that stutter very well but he catches on to every word.  “I’m s-sorry,”

He shakes his head.

Don’t be sorry, he means, and he hopes she understands.

“I’m so, so sorry,” (y/n) repeats, her voice growing weaker, softer.

She grows a little heavier in his hold, and carefully, he lowers them, hoping to help save her energy.  He’s torn between holding her tightly, in an iron grip where nothing could ever hurt her again- or barely touching her, she was too delicate right now, he couldn’t bear to cause her any more pain.

As he cradles her in his lap with one arm, his other hand putting as much pressure on her wound as he could manage, he’s feverishly looking around, cursing silently that Ijichi’s car hasn’t rolled up yet.

What part of ‘EMERGENCY (Y/N) GOT HURT AND NEEDS SHOKO NOW’ wasn’t understood? He should have been here seconds after that text was delivered.

Glancing back down at (y/n), the situation wasn’t looking good.

Her eyes had fallen closed, her head lolled against his arm weakly, and the pants coming from her mouth grew fainter.  His panic was worsening.

How could this happen? How could he let this happen? He was a terrible partner, and friend.  He was never going to forgive himself for this.

He patted her cheek gently, trying to stir her into consciousness for just a little longer.

(y/n) whimpered, her eyelids fluttering briefly, but she refused to open them.

If only he could say something, beg her to stay awake for just a minute longer.  Ijichi would be here soon-

“Toge,”

It was a mumble, but it was something.

He smoothed his trembling hand over her cheek, staring at her intently, and impatiently.

“You sh-should know,” She continued.

It took a tremendous effort to roll her head so she could look up at him.

If I’m going to die, I might as well suck it up and tell him I love him.

A shiver ran through her body, and Toge scrambled to get his jacket off, draping it over top of her, making sure to tuck the fabric around her shoulders so she was as comfortable as could be.

Even in her declining state of mind, she noticed a few things.

First, his collar was off.  Usually whenever he wasn’t wearing his face covering, she couldn’t help but smile and blush like a little girl with a crush.  He had the most handsome face, she simply had to admire him for his beauty.

Second, his hands were trembling incredibly hard.  She could see it as he tucked her into his coat, and she could feel it as well.  He was scared for her life.  Hell, she was too, but seeing him become this much of a wreck was starting to make this all too real for her.

And third, her pain was starting to go away.  At first she was relieved, but she’s realized now that it’s been replaced with a numbness, across her entire body.  That wasn’t a good sign.

I can’t possibly tell him how I feel, and then die in his arms.  It wouldn’t be right.

So instead, she just stared at him.  His violet eyes were so round, and filled with fear.  She wished that she had the words to actually comfort her, but she knew that there was nothing she could say that he would believe.

He shakes his head a little, his brows furrowing even deeper.  She knows that if he could speak he would be telling her to spit it out already.

“You’re beautiful,” She murmurs.

The knot in his brow softened into a more confused look, and it only made her smile.

Oh no.  She’s smiling.  This can’t be good.

“You’re the m-most beautiful person I’ve ever known,” She goes on, her murmurs turning into lovesick babbles.  “I n-never told you… I was too nervous I g-guess.  But I should have told you,”

He starts to shake his head again, but her small smile only blossoms into a toothy grin.  It would be off putting with the blood stained on her lips, but he has to admit even now, something in him just melts.

“You’re my favorite person, okay?”

It takes everything she has to keep her eyes open, to stare at him and try to convey every last feeling she has towards him.

For a moment he just stares back at her, his mouth moving a bit but no words were coming out.

And then slowly, he nods his head at her.

He wants to keep fighting, to keep smacking her until her eyes stay open, to keep shaking his head at her because he can’t scream for her to just please stay awake.

It’s dawning on him now, how quickly time is ticking, and the last thing either of them need is more panic.

So he tries to calm himself, for her sake.

But her eyes are closing again, and he can see the rise and fall in her chest is slowing, until it’s barely moving at all.

By the time the car pulls up and Ijichi is hopping out and running over to them, Toge hadn’t gotten her to open her eyes once. ___

Fuck it was bright.

(y/n) winced as she slowly blinked her eyes open, trying to get used to the blinding white shining on her.  With a groan she raised her hand to her face, rubbing her already strained eyes.

“Oh, you’re up earlier than I thought”

Dragging her palm down her face, (y/n) squinted to see Shoko smiling down at her, clipboard in hand.

“I’m not dead?”

“Not this time,” The doctor jests, smirking to herself.  “Gave us a scare though.  Especially Inumaki”

Toge.

“Where is-?”

“I’ll let him know you’re up in a minute, don’t worry.  First, can you tell me what all you remember?”

“Yeah, I got stabbed with my own knife.  Then I almost died.  And now I’m alive and embarrassed and I will never hear the end of it.  Actually… could you do me a favor-?”

“I’m not killing you.  Sorry, kid”

“Shit”

Shoko chuckled to herself.

“I guess I can check off alert and snarky,” She teases, before setting her board down.  “Any pain? Nausea?”

“Just absolute delight to be here” (y/n) teases back.

Shoko’s smiling, which is a bit of a rare sight, but (y/n’s) more familiar with it than her peers.

“As always,” Shoko hums.  “Well, let me find your boyfriend.  Try not to strain yourself before then, alright?”

“No promises” (y/n) muttered back.

With that, the doctor was strutting out of the room.  From the way the left side of her lab coat sagged a little heavier than the right, she figured she had some extra time to herself.  Ten minutes if she smoked alone, twenty five if Gojo happened to catch up with her.

Settling back into her cot, she shut her eyes and sighed.

I should have asked her to shut the lights off before she left.

She sat up again, trying to find something to put over her eyes to keep the LED’s from piercing right through her eyelids.  Unfortunately the thin cotton blanket she had wasn’t large enough to cover her head to toe, and she wasn’t ready to give up her pillow- the only comfortable thing about this dumb cot- so that left her back at square one.

It was then that she realized she was wearing an extra layer.  Puzzled, she inspected the jacket that clearly wasn’t hers.

Did Shoko give her this when she showed up?

Curiously, she dipped her hands into the pockets.  She wasn’t sure what drove her to do such a thing, but sure enough she found something.

Post-its.  A bunch of folded and crumpled post-its.

Oh, this is Toge’s jacket!

She felt her face get warm as she smiled, and piled them up in her lap.  These must have been all the notes he wrote to better communicate with people throughout his day.

But after unfolding the first one, she wasn’t so sure what these notes were.  Scribbled there in Toge’s distinct handwriting, was without a doubt a love note.

You’re so beautiful no matter what you wear or do with your hair.  It’s mostly because of your personality, but your eyes take some of the blame too.

She had to admit, she was pretty shocked.  She didn’t think Toge was the type to have a romantic side, but clearly he’s got a knack for it.

Now all that was left to figure out was who these little love notes were meant to be delivered to.

And hell, there was no other entertainment in this boring, bright room.  So why not indulge in a little snooping?

Eagerly, she uncrumpled the next one.

I’m sorry I can’t speak well to you, but I’m glad I can still laugh, because you make me laugh every time I’m with you.  And sometimes you’re funny too! :)

(y/n) snorted before rolling her eyes.  Alright, he must have had some help from Panda.  She reached for the next note.

You tell me all the time how brave I am and now here I am pouring it all out there.  I wish I could tell you myself instead of writing all these notes.

A few of the notes didn’t even have words, just doodles, but they were just as cute.  She especially loved the one of two turtles holding hands.  Well, stubs.  He drew their little stubs touching with a heart over them.

It wasn’t meant for her, but she decided she’d have to steal that one for herself.  It was just too cute.

“Tuna!”

Dropping the post-its, (y/n’s) head shot up to the doorway where her visitor was standing.  She looked like a deer caught in headlights- which she was, he’d literally just caught her reading through his private notes.

“Toge!” She squeaked, embarrassed, but there was still a smile on her face, eager to see him as always.

She can’t see it because he has his collar zipped up, but his face was red with bashfulness.

How many of those notes had she read? Did she know they were for her? Dummy! Of course she did! It was so obvious! Idiot! Why did I even keep those in there when I gave her that jacket!?

“I’m so glad you’re here” She told him, beckoning him to come into the room.

Some of his nerves were settled as he took a few steps closer.  Maybe she hadn’t put together that the notes were for her?

“Mustard leaf?” He asked, gesturing to her stomach, which she kept covered with her blanket.

“Oh, it’s fine,” (y/n) shrugged a shoulder.

After finding the notes, she’d kind of forgotten about it actually.  Surely once her pain meds wore off she’d be irritable and reliving the worst pain she’s ever felt in her whole life- but for now she didn’t care, and she’d rather focus on something more enticing.

And nothing was more enticing than love notes to a mystery person.

“Tell me about these!” She told him, excitedly holding up the few notes that she’d read.

Toge’s eyes widened for a moment, before he decidedly shook his head back and forth.

(y/n) frowned.

“Bonito flakes” Toge explained to the best of his ability, pointing again to her blanket.

“Really, it’s fine, I can’t feel a thing right now,” (y/n) said nonchalantly.  “I’d rather just be normal? Please?” She gave him her best puppy dog eyes and held the notes up to him.

Toge sighed, staring back at her, giving up on trying to voice his concerns.  When all he could voice were rice ball ingredients, it was hard to be convincing sometimes.

But even giving her the deadest eyes he could manage wasn’t working.  And he was no match for puppy dog eyes.

(It was truly a weakness- and not just (y/n).  If anyone gave him that face, odds were he was caving in on whatever ridiculous thing they were requesting.  Panda abused this knowledge frequently)

He groaned and rolled his eyes, making (y/n) grin and cheer.

“Ok so tell me! Who are these for? Do they go here??”

She shuffles to sit upright on her cot, making Toge panic momentarily, because no way should she be moving this much after she was just stabbed.  She was still healing damnit!

He reaches his hands out, shaking his head as he grabs her shoulders to keep her in place, but she swats his hands away.

“Relax, just sit” She demands, patting the open space she’s made for him.

Toge glares at her.

“Bonito flakes”

“Stop saying that and just sit,” (y/n) requests again.  “Or I’ll walk out of this room and find Panda and make him tell me who these are-”

His groan is louder this time, more annoyed, before he shoves his finger in her face.

(y/n’s) brows knit together.

“Huh?”

He rolls his eyes.

His finger points rather aggressively to the notes in her lap, before pointing at her again.

How much clearer could he be? Was he going to have to spell it out for her?

“Yeah… I found them in your pockets-”

Toge smacked his hand to his head.

Man, he loved her.  But this was a whole different level of cluelessness.

He’d have to find another way to tell her.  So he went sifting through the mess of post-its.  Surely there’d be a note in there that explained his feelings to her.

(y/n) watched him curiously, not quite sure what he was doing, but she had to admit she was a little entertained by his annoyed scrambling.  It was cute to get him worked up, and he didn’t do it often, so it was also a treat.

Finally, he produced the perfect note, and handed it to her.  (y/n) raised a brow at him before she took it.

This note wasn’t like the others.  It was a direct question, clearly meant to be used to communicate with, not just a cute message or doodle.

(y/n), I’ve liked you for a really long time, and you’re a great friend.  But I think we would be great as something more.  Would you want to go on a date with me?

Her eyes widened as she re-read the note a few times, scanning it as if it were going to say something else after ten more reads.  But sure enough, it had her name, and he was asking her out.

He was asking her out!!

“Oh my god,” She mumbled, mostly to herself but Toge heard it anyway.  “I’m an idiot,”

Glancing up at him, she caught his nodding, and smacked his arm.

“But you’re a bigger idiot!” She chastised.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He shrugged his shoulders.  There were few instances where he was lucky to not have to explain himself.

Like right now, he didn’t have to sit here and tell her he was too scared of rejection to tell her how he really felt about her.  That would be humiliating.  Instead, he gets to stand there and just smile at her.

“Well, you’re in luck.  I like you too,” (y/n) replies, giving him a smile.  “I didn’t know that you felt this way,”

He shrugs his shoulders.

“So romantic,” She chuckles, rolling her eyes at him.  “So what kind of date do you have planned?”

He reaches for one of the post-its, flipping it over and grabbing one of Shoko’s pens.  (y/n) waits while he quickly scribbles on the paper.

Movie?

(y/n) grins as she reads it, nodding her head in agreement.

“How about dinner too?” She asks, her cheeks starting to tinge with pink.

Toge nods excitedly.

“Okay, perfect.  It’s a date then,” (y/n) grins back.  The elation of this moment was definitely going to last until her pain wore off.  “You know it’s funny, I was actually going to confess last night,”

Toge rose a brow, before whistling, making her giggle.

“Oh shut up.  I only didn’t because… you know.  If I had…”

Finally, Toge perches himself on the side of the cot beside her.  He unzips his collar before reaching out to take hold of her hand.  (y/n) smiles softly at the sweet gesture.  She admired him very much for the way he was able to convey exactly what he wanted to say.

“I just didn’t want to drop a bomb on you and then… die.  It didn’t seem right, and I wanted the right time to tell you, you know that I… I love you”

His eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights.  Brows raised and mouth slightly parted.  He was shocked.  (y/n’s) pink cheeks deepened to a bright red, and she could feel the heat spreading to her neck as well.

All at once, it hits Toge, and his hands sprung to action.  

You love me? He signs.

“Well, yeah,” She answers.  “I was trying not to die in front of you, doesn’t that make it kind of obvious?”

He shakes his head at her, a smile beginning to break out across his face.

He holds his hand up, sticking out his thumb, index finger, and pinky.

(y/n) may have been a bit rusty when it came to sign language, but she knew what that one meant.

She reached out, taking his hand and tugging gently, prompting him to lean closer.

Brows furrowed, Toge followed the silent command, turning his head with the expectation that she was going to say something softly in his ear.

With a hum, (y/n’s) free hand finds his cheek, directing him to face her again, before guiding him down closer so that she could plant her lips on his.

For a moment, he hesitates.  His eyes go wide and it feels like his whole body is frozen.  He wonders briefly if this is what his opponents felt when he used his cursed speech to stop them in place.

It’s like all time as he knows it comes to a halt.

And then, slowly but surely, he melts into the sensation.

Her lips, soft and sweet like the chapstick Shoko always keeps around, were warm, and familiar.  As though he’d kissed them countless times before.  His hands find their natural place at her jaw, keeping her in place so he can be sure to kiss her again and again.

The feeling of the corners of her mouth tilting upwards was sensational, and Toge finds himself smiling into the kiss as well.  The pair silently acknowledged that now was as good a time as any to finally come together.

When time starts again and works against them, forcing them to break apart for air, their smiles were ever so present.  Paired with pink cheeks and shy eyes that could barely maintain contact.

“I’m going to have to learn sign language for kiss me, huh?” (y/n) teases quietly.

Toge beams, before happily showing her the motion.  He brings his fingers to his thumb, then traced his mouth to his cheekbone.  The phrase is finished with pointing to himself.

“Well, if you insist” (y/n) giggles, before yanking on him again so she can reach him once more.

Their laughter is interrupted as their lips meet once more, and this time Toge thinks he might never come back up for air. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[lfghughes]

Could we get something where y/n and Jack go out to dinner with the team and y/n is being really needy. Jack at first is kinda pushing her away and trying to distract himself from her but really he’s just super flustered because of how much he can’t say no to her. Eventually when they get home they just cuddle and make out all night. So much love for u!!

a/n: no! so much love for you okay?! thank you for sending this request in

Nine out of ten times you were okay with going out to dinner and drinks with everyone from the team and Jack. Tonight though you had kind of wanted to just have Jack more to yourself and to spend the night at home but everyone had agreed to go out a few nights back and you didn’t want to cancel or to have Jack cancel. Your arms went around his waist as you reached up to press a kiss to his lips but one ultimately ended up not being enough for you as you continued on. Before you could really turn this one kiss into a make out session, Jack had pulled away. “Nuh uh, you’re going to either make us late or not show up at all.”

If there was one thing Jack hated it was having to tell you no but he also knew how easily he could get lost in you and that if he kept on kissing you then he wasn’t going to be able to just stop there. A small pout grew on your lips when he had pulled away and he once again shook his head. “None of that.” You were already cutting it close and with how traffic was in the city, you needed to head out now or you’d be late regardless of a make out session or not.

At the restaurant you both took your seats after greeting everyone else, somehow you had made it just in time. After you ordered some food your hand mindlessly went to Jacks thigh, your fingers drawing small circles. You only realized your own actions when Jacks hand went on top of yours and brushed it off of him. Immediately you felt your heart sink a little and you knew it was mostly your brain just overthinking it because it’s not like you had done anything to make Jack upset with you.

You looked over at him and instead noticed the pink tinge that had grown on his cheeks. “You okay, Jack?” Nico asked from across the table and Jack let out a small cough. “Oh yeah, totally fine. Actually I’ll be right back. Gotta use the restroom.” His cheeks got slightly pinker as he got up from his seat and disappeared deeper into the restaurant. When he came back the rest of the night went by a lot smoother and before you knew it you were finally back home in your own bed.

“I know you’re not about to go to sleep.” Jack had just walked back into the room after taking a shower, slipping into your bed and the smell of his soap filled your nostrils. His hands went to your waist, pulling you closer to him until he could reach you to kiss you. Immediately he had deepened the kiss, his tongue moving against yours. A small groan left his lips before he pulled away. “You don’t understand how hard it was to keep my hands off you in that restaurant.” He mumbled quietly to you. “And just all the things I was thinking of doing to you when we got home did not help.” His lips went to your neck, pulling your shirt sleeve to the side slightly so he could press his lips to your shoulder. “Well are you going to show me some of those things?”

[sanguineterrain]

ooohh werewolf!Jason with the prompt "you make me feel so safe" is giving my brain the good tinglies

hell yeah werewolf jay!!! hope u like aud <3

werewolf!jason todd x gn!reader. fluff, werewolf shift, wolf form, jason being worried about hurting the reader (ofc he doesn't tho he's my honeybunch sugarplum).

i rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary | requests are open!

****

"Are you sure you want me here tonight?"

Jason stands at the doorway, looking unsurely at the pile of pillows, blankets, and your clothing that you've constructed into a semblance of a nest on your bed.

"Of course I do," you say, fluffing a pillow. "What side d'you want?"

Jason frowns harder and takes a step back. "I think I should go home tonight. I don't—what if I... what if something happens? What if I hurt you?"

"You won't hurt me, baby," you tell him, and draw the blinds closed. "You never have, remember? Batman monitored you when you came back."

"A hundred other things could go wrong—"

"And we've planned for that, Jay," you say gently. "But it's unlikely, remember? It's just like any other shift."

It's quiet for a long time. You finish setting up, until Jason speaks again.

"I'm so ugly."

You turn in alarm. "What? Jay, what are you—"

"I'm not one of those TV wolves you see on Animal Planet. I came back wrong. I'm scarred and my eyes glow horribly and I've got big teeth and a-a monster's face, and—"

"Hey." You put your hands on his face. His eyes slip closed and he leans into your touch. You rub your thumbs in circles on his cheeks.

"You're not a monster, Jason," you say, the very word upsetting you. "I don't care what you look like, alright? You don't scare me. You make me feel so safe, actually. Doesn't matter what form you're in."

His eyes fly open. "I don't wanna lose you," he says desperately.

"Oh, honey. Is that what you've been worried about? Jay, this isn't going to change anything between us. Even if something goes wrong, you won't lose me."

Jason stares longingly over your shoulder, at the bed. You smile and tug his hands.

"C'mon, we'll get comfy."

Jason stops at the edge of the bed. It's close.

"If something happens, don't hesitate," he says. "Protect yourself."

"It's alright," you soothe, reaching to run your hand through his hair. "Everything will be fine, Jay."

The shift is quicker than you expect. The moon rises to its highest point and there's the crack of bone and muscle, something that Jason assured you didn't hurt but you're still doubtful.

He's big as a wolf, bigger than his human self. It's true, he doesn't look exactly like a traditional wolf.

For a moment, when his eyes land on yours, your heart skips a beat. You understand who you've just entrusted your life with.

Jason tips his head uncertainly, and backs up. You reach out a hand.

"It's okay," you whisper. He'd told you his senses are on overdrive in this form. "Jay, it's okay. C'mon up."

Despite his size, the bed only creaks a little bit. Jason herds you to the center of the bed and then completely curls around you. His tail hangs off of the bed. You're dwarfed in his fur. You can tell he's trying hard to be as gentle as possible. He still hasn't relaxed, obviously waiting for the tiniest hint for you to push him away. The thought breaks your heart.

You wrap your arms around his neck and push your face close to his snout, nuzzling his head. Jason whines softly.

"No one I'd feel safer with," you whisper, and kiss the patches of scarred skin that have no fur. "And y'know what? You're way better than those Animal Planet hacks."

Jason chuffs, warm breath fanning your ear, and you squirm at the tickle. You burrow deeper into him, and Jason hesitantly accepts you, finally letting himself relax.

Jason keeps you warm the whole night.

[callsign-rogueone]

faking it - s.h.

Sawyer Henrick x healer!reader  When Sawyer's friends hear that an infantry guy has been bothering you, they suggest an unconventional way to get him to leave you alone. words: 1.7k 🏷: Iron Flame spoilers in future chapters, feminine healer reader who was childhood friends with Sawyer (no pronouns used here, but future chapters will use she/her), mentions of needles (one immunization), mentions of harassment from an original character, Sawyer has a huge crush on you, and his entire squad ships it, fake-dating trope. here begins the story of Sawyer and Peach! I hope y’all like her 🥺

You fight the urge to yawn as you continue to restock the bandages and straighten things up for the day — you didn’t sleep well, and you’ve never been a fan of the early mornings that the war college requires. 

It could be worse, you tell yourself. You could still be working nights like you did your first year. That was even more exhausting.

There’s a soft knock on the doorframe. “Is Cadet Lowen working today?”

Your classmate bristles, drawing herself up to her full height, but it isn’t very intimidating— she’s even smaller than Violet. “Who’s asking?” 

You laugh, setting the box down and smoothing out the creases in your pale blue robes. “It’s okay, Sarah. He’s a friend.”

He gives her a disarming smile, but she still eyes him with suspicion for a few seconds before she disappears into the other room. 

You instantly start checking him over for injury, but it’s too hard to see anything under all that black fabric and leather.

He smiles. “I’m fine. I just came to give you this. I don’t know if they’re still your favorite, but…”

You take the small paper bag he’s holding, that cute little concerned frown quickly turning into a grin as you see the blueberry muffin inside — just like your mom used to make. “Thank you. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. Just making sure you’re taking care of yourself,” he answers, blushing. There’s a moment of silence before he starts to bail out. “I know you’ve been busy, let me get out of your hair-”

You don’t want him to leave.

“Did you get your flu shot yet?” you interrupt.

He laughs at your spontaneity. “I did not,” he answers truthfully.

You put the bag down, moving to go wash your hands. “Sit.”

“I brought you the perfect muffin, and you still want to stick me with a needle?” he asks.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “It’s for your own good, and the good of the quadrant. Unless you can’t take a little pinch…”

He straightens up a bit, scoffing. “Of course I can.”

You smile. You know exactly how to get these army boys in line. Pride is the biggest motivator they’ve got; they’re always eager to prove that they can handle whatever task at hand.

“Your full name and date of birth please, sir?” you ask, picking up a clipboard.

He knows you know it, but he humors you anyway — it’s cute seeing you in nurse mode. “Sawyer Henrick, July 15th, 612.”

You write it down as he unbuttons his shirt, pulling one arm out of its sleeve.

Your heart races at the glimpse of the rider’s relic spanning his back; a swath of bright red contrasting with his pale skin. You certainly don’t remember him being this strong, either — all that crazy shit they make riders do has paid off, you suppose.

You take a moment longer than appropriate to get the tension out of the muscle before making the injection and smoothing a bandage over the skin. “All done.”

“Do I get a sticker?” he asks, clearly joking.

You rip your eyes away as he does the buttons back up, turning to wash your hands again. “Fresh out, sorry. I’ll give you a rain check.”

You need to get him the hell out of here before your classmates start asking questions, and before he melts the rest of your brain. “Thank you for the muffin.”

“Thank you for the flu shot.”

You can’t help but smile at him. “I really missed you, you know. I’m glad our paths crossed again.”

“I missed you too, peach.” There’s a pause as he works up the courage. “Do you want to come to town with me and my squadmates on Saturday? They all really liked you.”

While the land-nav exercise hadn’t gone according to plan at all, you’d still enjoyed your time with them. “I’d like that.”

“Alright,” he says with that shy smile you’ve missed so much. “Meet you at the front gates around three?”

“Sounds like a plan. Now scoot,” you prod gently. “I’m sure everyone is wondering where you ran off to.”

He glances at the clock — he’s definitely going to be late for battle brief, but the scolding from Dain will be worth every minute.

He gives you one last soft smile before he leaves, one you’ll be thinking about all day.

------------------------------------------------------------

Sure enough, he finds you waiting outside at three o’clock sharp.

It’s been years since he’s seen you in civilian clothes. You look exactly how he remembers you, only somehow even more beautiful. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, he supposes.

You’ve swapped out the healers’ robes for something more fitted and more seasonally appropriate, a new pair of denim pants and a sleeveless light purple tunic. You’d even let your hair down for the occasion, leaving it out of the usual no-nonsense style you’re required to wear during your shifts.

Him and his friends are all dressed in their usual solid black. “I guess I didn’t get the memo,” you jest.

Violet smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s nice to see some color every now and then.”

You bring a hand up to swat away a fly, and Rhiannon’s eyes widen. “You guys are allowed to paint your nails?”

“There’s all kinds of rules about what colors and how long they can be, but yeah. I do them every Sunday afternoon. It makes me feel pretty, even with those terrible robes on,” you laugh.

Sawyer pushes down a remark about how you’re always pretty, clearing his throat instead. “Everyone ready?”

There’s a chorus of agreement from the squad. 

It isn’t long before you’re all sitting around a table at the tavern, laughing over stories from your years at the school. “And then I told her that if she wanted to act like that, she should-”

The door opens, the small bell hung on it jingling. Everyone watches you fall silent, pressing your lips together and shrinking yourself as small as you can until the group of infantry passes. They head off to the bartop, out of sight, and you finally let out the breath you’d been holding.

“Are you okay? You look like a sheep that just saw a riot of dragons walk by,” Ridoc says, but there’s no humor in his tone.

You shift in your seat for a moment, uncomfortable, but the way your new friends are all looking at you with genuine concern has you admitting the truth. 

“I stitched up the blond — James — a month ago, and now he thinks we’re soulmates or something. He keeps showing up at the infirmary with his friends, asking me on dates, and I keep turning him down, but he won’t take no for an answer. I’ve considered faking my own death just to get him to leave me alone,” you joke, but it’s obvious that you don’t find it funny. “It’s starting to freak me out.”

Violet frowns. “Have you talked to Nolon about it?”

“I have, but we can’t refuse care to anyone, so we’ve just been saying I’m busy and having the other girls deal with him, but they shouldn’t have to do that. I’ve tried everything. He just doesn’t seem to understand that I’m not interested.”

“Maybe not everything,” Rhiannon offers.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, those kind of guys won’t listen to you, but they will listen to another dude. They need to see another guy on your arm, because they don’t respect you as a person, but they will respect another man’s claim to you.”

Everyone looks at her, quizzical.

“I’m not saying it’s right,” she says, putting her hands up in defense, “I’m just saying it’s true. Get yourself a boyfriend, or a fake one, even, and he’ll back off, guaranteed.”

You chew your lip, pensive. “That might work. But I’ve been too focused on studying to go on any dates. I don’t know anyone who would be willing to…”

“Look to your left,” Ridoc offers dryly, taking a sip of his drink.

You glance over at Sawyer. Are they really suggesting…?

“It’s a logical choice,” Violet adds, shrugging. “You two already know everything about each other.”

You can’t quite read the look on his face, but it’s clear from his reddened cheeks that he’s uncomfortable. You shake your head quickly. “I couldn’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me do anything. I’d be helping you, because I care about you, and because that guy’s a fucking creep.”

You’ve never heard him sound so firm before.

Your gaze drifts back to the bartop, where James is still sitting with his friends, several empty glasses in front of them. You’ve never seen him drunk before, but you know it can’t be pretty. 

He laughs, too loudly, likely at some crude joke his friend had made, clapping the other boy on the back. 

You wince, sinking deeper into the worn upholstery and praying they don’t see you, but you stick out in the crowd of riders and infantry — you’re the only person in the room who isn’t wearing all black, save for the bartenders.

“Breathe,” Sawyer coaxes, laying a hand on your knee beneath the table. It simultaneously soothes your anxiety and gives you butterflies, a feeling you can’t really describe.

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Sorry,” you manage, offering them a weak smile. “Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ridoc says gently. “you’re one of us now, and we look out for our own.”

“He’s right,” Sawyer adds. “I promise I will do everything I can to get this guy gone, but I don’t want to cross any boundaries. We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. You’ll be one hundred percent in control here, okay?”

You nod, entranced by the softness in his eyes as he looks over at you. “Okay,” you agree quietly.

“Attagirl,” he praises, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

You think your heart might give out.

“That’s actually really believable,” Violet comments with a soft smile, snapping you out of your train of thought and reminding you that you have an audience.

You tear your eyes away from Sawyers’, picking your drink back up. He moves his hand from your leg, resting his arm on the back of your chair as the conversation resumes, Ridoc bringing everyone back into a light mood again with another terrible joke.

This could work, you decide, but it could also go horribly, terribly wrong.

[eveistdiepommes]

Classes Start !

“World Academy is like… suuuuper prestigious! Everyone who goes there is either at the top of their class, or they had the money to get in! Either way, you’re surrounded by brilliance no matter which hallway you turn down!”

Hiiiiiieeeee everyone!! Welcome to my newest AU! If you couldn’t tell, it’s a College AU! I’ve been struggling recently with making art, but yesterday something clicked and I started doodling tons and tons and this was the result! Safe to say, my art block is at bay for now!! I started doodling for this AU because I wanted to tweak my art style a bit and because I just wanted a universe where lighthearted, funny things might happen! And as I drew and drew, I started thinking up more lore, more character backstories, and just having a ball thinking of all the characters’ dynamics! So, welcome to World University!

(Character bios and info below!)

Feliciano is quite brilliant in his own unique way, as Lovino knows and as Ludwig will find out. Feliciano has the amazing ability to draw what he sees photorealistically, and his brain seems to be able to break down architecture to its finest detail. His paintings are breathtaking, his skills are unmatched, no wonder he earned a scholarship! Ludwig, who was so sure of who he was, starts to question everything after returning a blueprint the elusive Feliciano had dropped. Ludwig comes from a very prestigious family, a family of winners, a family of business. So of course, he is to follow in his father’s footsteps, just like his older brother is. But… What if he… doesn’t want to do that? What if he wanted to explore other ideas, other concepts, where nothing is concrete and everything is colorful? It’s scary… not being sure… But he is sure of one thing! Feliciano is quite beautiful.

It’s a hassle to deal with his brother though! Calloused and on guard, Lovino is always there to speak up on his younger sibling’s behalf, maybe a bit too much. Lovino just gets worried, as their family does not come from money. He doesn’t need some rich assholes picking on his brother like kids did in middle and high school! Working as a model, Lovino is starting to gain attention, which means more money to support him and his brother. And he is just fine with this. He never thought this would be his profession, but he can’t deny, it is a big confidence boost!

Arthur was never a fan of his parents. They pressured the hell out of his older brothers, and then they turned their sights on him. Their pressure was harder on him though, as it wasn’t just to do well, but to do well and be “ladylike.” Safe to say, as soon as Arthur escaped to college he completely abandoned what they had taught him, finally cutting his hair, finally dressing how he wanted, finally living how he wanted to live. And when they came to visit one year, and saw the changes he had made, they were furious. One thing led to another, and Arthur lashed out, declaring that he was dropping out of college to pursue what he wanted to pursue. And he soon learned that his parents had cut him off from their funds completely, leaving him stranded in the town.

Francis is idolized around the school, mostly by other fashion students. Many have confessed their crushes to him, only to be met with a chuckle and gentle rejection. No one understands him! In the years before, he hadn’t been so reserved, flirting freely with peers and what not. But something has changed, and sometimes, people have seen him at some grungy joint where the scene is way too sketchy and the music is way too loud. After Arthur got off stage, it was Francis’ cue to follow him. He heard something curious the other day, something he wanted to ask Arthur. So, meeting him out back, Arthur scolded him for sneaking up on him. And through a game of mental chess, Francis had learned that what he heard was true; Arthur had no safe place to sleep. He decided then and there, Arthur would be going back to his dorm, even if he had to sneak him and that obnoxious guitar case in.

Kiku could relate to being pressured. It was a hassle just for his family to let him choose illustration as his major. But once he was set, he was achieving what was expected of him, he excelled. That was, until two years in he got sick. See, Kiku has a very weak immune system, it had given him issues in his childhood, and now it seemed such conditions were back to haunt him. After taking a year off, he’s been struggling to get back to the top. His anxiety has risen, his focus seems to be dwindling. Arthur helps him study, and what a kind and noble thing to do. But some days, he just needs to let off steam and go to the arcade to set a new high score on one of the many rhythm games. What he was never expecting… was to be challenged by the human embodiment of the sun.

Ivan had lived a quite solitary life until now. Even when he started college, many did not seem interested in being his friend, maybe because of his intimidating stature, or his accidentally off color comments. But when he dances, he frees his mind from any troubles, completely absorbed in the music. One would never guess from his height and build how easily he can float through the air, and it’s quite exhilarating to watch! Well, according to Yao! The ever energetic Yao met Ivan in a class they shared, and for the first time in his life, Ivan had been approached with a beaming smile and sparkling eyes. Yao was innocently curious of Ivan’s diet and workout regiment, exclaiming how cool he looked unabashedly. This made Ivan’s face red! He had never been fussed over, his sisters didn’t count!

Alfred heard all about Ivan from Yao, becoming excited at the prospects of more friends! Alfred seemed like he was the polar opposite of Ivan in the friendship regards. Almost anyone at the university could easily find themselves talking to Alfred, he was just that personable! But Alfred didn’t have many close friends. He had his twin Matthew of course, and he had Yao and Ludwig, but that was it! No one really stuck around beyond small talk. Maybe that’s why he went out of the way to climb through a forming crowd in the arcade one day to see just who had all eyes on them? He wanted attention too, you know? To say he was surprised would be an understatement. The guy his eyes landed on playing the game was like expert level good! Being the cocky guy he is, he couldn’t help but offer a challenge, even if he was sure he’d lose. That guy was just too cool! He wanted to be closer!

Matthew has struggled in school in the past. It’s not that he doesn’t understand, it’s just that he could never get the words out to explain his understanding. Oral presentations were living hell, as was socializing and trying to fit in. But with his twin brother’s help, Matthew got through high school and made his way into college. The change of pace was rough at first, often resulting in meltdowns from not comprehending what he felt he should be comprehending. His grades were excellent, and his love for nature and the arctic were always very apparent… maybe even too apparent. See, that’s what he couldn’t comprehend still; he couldn’t socialize. Alfred talked to people so easily, but Matthew struggled greatly. He knew from a child he had selective mutism, but it seemed that even when he wanted to speak, he’d choke! His palms would get clammy, he’d start collapsing in on himself. And then the dreaded day came where he had to give an oral presentation… in college. If it weren’t for his white haired peer, he surely would have gotten a bad grade. But miraculously, with Gilbert, he started finding his voice.

Gilbert does not care what his parents expect from him. He doesn’t care what anyone expects from him, well, except for maybe one person… But either way, Gilbert is a completely free spirit, doing what he wants and making his own way! He’s a class clown, often cracking jokes at the expense of the professors, but when he heard that soft little giggle cut through the crowd, his interest was definitely piqued. He attempted to speak to Matthew after that, being met with a stumbling, awkward response, which was somehow even more endearing. Gilbert learned quickly through Ludwig, who was told by Alfred, of Matthew’s past, his struggles in socialization, and his lonely habits. How could anyone not love talking to him? He had a bear fact for every conversation! What is there not to like? Gilbert was quickly becoming attached.

[ladyfogg]

Perfect Fit (Teaser)

Fic Summary: Since the first time you let him bite you, Astarion knew seducing you would be easy. What he didn’t anticipate were the feelings that came with it.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Drow!Monk Reader

Fic Warnings: Biting, Blood Drinking (Vampire and all that) Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Grinding, Cuddling

A/N: Back on my bullshit for a new fandom. As of right now, this is the only fic idea I’m working on since I have a ton of work-writing to do, but you know how it goes. This pale elf has taken control of my brain, laughing maniacally as he does.

Right now this fic around 3k and not even halfway done. Let me know if you want to be tagged when the full fic comes along.

The first part of fic follows the game in terms of his first bite but after that it's all from my horny brain.

Update: Full Fic

---

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

This is not the question he expects and he blinks, taken aback. You don’t sound angry, hells it would be easier if you were. Anger he’s used to, can handle with poise. But Astarion thinks he can work with this, whatever it is.

Because it’s not pity, it’s not empathy, it’s something he does not have a name for.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no, more likely you’ll run a stake through my ribs,” he explains. “No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

Of course you can’t. Anyone who ever put their trust in him came to bloody ends. Yet, he’s seen you drop a gnoll with nothing but your fists and an insane high kick, so he feels you may be sturdier than most.

You study him closely, and Astarion does everything to appear docile and properly chastised, hunching his body to make himself smaller. There’s a beat where neither of you blink or speak. However, he catches the subtle slump of your shoulders and a sigh escapes your lips.

“I believe you,” you say. “And I do trust you.”

Astarion slowly exhales his own sigh, this one of relief. “Thank you,” he says.

Then, because he can’t help himself, because his empty stomach twists, because you’re still close enough for him to inhale your scent, he pushes his luck.

“Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice as he bats his eyelashes at you. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

He's fully expects your refusal and wouldn’t blame you in the slightest. As much as this hunger is driving him to madness, he is fully prepared to slink away with his tail tucked between his legs if it means he lives to seduce you another day.

Yet the next words out of your mouth throw him off his game.

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.”

There’s no hiding the surprise on his face. He knows you see it and with his darkvision, he can just make out the corner of your lips twitch up into a smirk.

“Really? I—” He clears his throat and recovers, swagger in place as comfortable as a well-worn mask molded just for him. “Of course, not one drop more. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

He motions towards your bedroll with a bow. As you brush past and turn towards the fire, your smirk is wider, as if you can tell how much excitement is building within him. Then again, with the tadpole and your uncanny ability to read people, you probably do.

The others are still silent and sleeping as you lay back onto your bedroll. Astarion’s chest heaves and he licks his lips as the prospect of blood, humanoid blood, becomes all he can focus on. He’s salivating again, red eyes drawn to the smooth expanse of your neck.

At first all he can hear is the crackling of the fire. But when you lay back and he leans in, the steady beating of your heart breaks through the noises of the night. Bloody hells, he can hear the blood rushing through your veins. It hypnotizes him, draws him forward as you roll your head to the side.

White fangs pierce dark skin, sliding clean through to find a thick, pulsing vein. Underneath the rush, he almost misses the soft gasp push past your lips.

Almost.

But he doesn’t have time to process it because the first drops of blood touch his tongue and nothing else matters. Not mind flayers, not tadpoles, not Cazador, nothing but the sweet, red liquid that is sliding down his throat carrying your scent.

Everything else before pales in comparison.

There’s no fear. When he hunts he can taste the deep fear of his prey in their final moments. But this, is different. You are different.

It’s such an onslaught of emotions he can’t process them right away. It’s secondhand, like trying to grab a rapidly fading echo in a dark cave.

Astarion doesn’t anticipate it and can’t recognize half of them at first. Sensation is what he does recognize. Pain is immediate, followed by warmth leading into heat in his cheeks and stomach. So much heat. He’s been cold for two-hundred years, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have body heat, to be hot.

His body naturally curls around yours, one hand sliding under your head to cradle it close. The fingers of his other hand dig into the packed soil, gripping for something solid yet finding nothing.

Your body arches into his, breasts pressed to his solid chest and for the briefest moment, he imagines how better this would be if he could feel your bare skin to his.

Then another splatter of blood hits the back of his throat as your heartrate increases and the thought is lost.

---

To Be Continued

[buckets-and-trees]

Consort

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Namor x female!Reader Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Diplomatic fraternization is never easy and situations can turn on a dime. When you accompany your father to negotiate future ties between your two underwater kingdoms, one mistake changes everything.

Content Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding

Additional Notes: Before this week it had never even as a WHIM come across my radar to write anything Namor. But two-almost-three-days ago @artsynellyyy shared a ridiculously gorgeous unfinished piece of art she was working on, asked for some input, and it spurred a plot concept that just GRIPPED my brain and had me feeling THINGS. I don’t think I will be writing a lot of Namor, but I do know there’s certainly a part two to this because…there’s more story for these two in my head. There’s a particular moment that exists for them that as this developed, I knew could not happen yet for them, it would’ve been too rushed. So… just… Happy fourth installment of the 2022 Holiday Extravaganza!

A/N 2: Be gentle! This is my first attempt at Namor. I did some canon diving and research, but I did not dive deep into the Namor fandom because I didn’t want to get too influenced about established patterns or too intimidated about what’s already out there. Honestly kind of terrified to publish this one, so just... jumping out of the airplane and pulling the parachute okay bye.

“Let us speak without pretense,” the king of Talokan’s voice resonates powerfully through the throne room. “Tell me why you sought private audience with me today, Hamal.”

Standing at the right hand of your father, you observe the way he draws his shoulders up just a fraction more, the way his nostrils flare just before he speaks again. “Fine, I will speak plainly, Namor. Your recent dealings with the surface, particularly with the kingdom of Wakanda, is concerning to the kingdom of Fourchon.”

“Why should it concern you?” Namor patiently humors the conversation further, but you can read that the patience is wearing thin.

“King to king, I find it concerning because it calls into question whether we are moving into a state of volatility for all who dwell in the oceans, and I have no wish to see my people drawn into hostilities or war of any kind.”

“And you are here to ensure continued peace between our nations?”

“I am.”

Your heart isn’t racing, but the beats thrum more swiftly against your chest as you will this to go well.

“And what do you propose, Hamal? What does the kingdom of Fourchon possibly have to offer Talokan?”

There’s a moment of silence that hangs between the two rulers, then your father answers, “Her.”

Every muscle in your body seizes with dread, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes widen, but every bit of diplomatic rearing mercifully allows you to keep your mouth from dropping open in complete shock.

“My daughter.”

You cannot look at either king, looking straight ahead to keep your composure, but you register the sharp change in Namor’s voice. “Fourchon is neither enemy nor ally to Talokan, and yet you come to my court with the arrogance of demanding peace between our countries when for more than three hundred years there has been nary a quarrel. Indeed, your small kingdom has meant nothing to me, an inconsequential player amongst underwater realms. We have maintained social civility only because you were not worth any more or less to me.

He pauses, and you can feel the tension rolling in waves off your father.

“Your offer is horrible, but I will give you what you came here to bargain and secure today for the sake of your people, despite the prideful blunder of their king. Now leave.”

You are desperate to acquiesce to Namor’s command after the humiliation of being offered first as a trinket or some form of tribute and then receiving by association a political rebuke, and you turn immediately to depart with your father.

“Not you, Princess,” his voice halts you.

You watch your father leave; he doesn’t look back at you or Namor.

“Come here,” the king of Talokan says.

You turn back to face him, squaring your shoulders and looking straight at him as you approach. Your father had asked for a private audience, and you are grateful for that as no one else saw the disaster that just took place.

He regards you openly. You focus on breathing evenly when all you want to do is flee from this room and let your emotions rage. When his gaze meets yours again, he tilts his chin and narrows his eyes ever so slightly.

“Do you not kneel for your king?”

Heat rushes from your chest up to flood your cheeks, and your throat feels thick with anger, but you manage to speak. “You are not my king.”

“Did I not accept the terms offered?”

“An offer you called horrible,” you say as you sink to your knees and bow your head as is customary.

“The offer, not you.”

Your head snaps back up at these words.

“And the offer was horrible in relation to you, not me.”

Your brow furrows in question.

“When your father made the overtures for this meeting, I asked my ambassador to share with me his outlook on your kingdom and your court.”

“You said we were inconsequential.”

“But an element that still exists.”

He evaluated the full landscape. You were under no illusions that the kingdom of your birth was small in comparison to Talokan or Atlantis, but  he was a ruler who wasn’t fool enough discount the smaller players.

“My ambassador said,” he continues, “that your people love and respect you and that it is a loss to Fourchon that you were both second-born and a daughter of the throne instead of a son.”

Resentment spreads through your veins at these words. You’d fought the unrest of what you would not be able to do while also feeling confident in your brother’s ability to rule, that he’d proven himself worthy of his birthright.

“He said you were your father’s favorite.”

You had thought that, too. And yet… “How easily he would bargain me away would say otherwise.”

“It was clear you had no indication of his intent.”

A bitter laugh escapes your throat. “Truly. I thought he valued my presence, my counsel, even perhaps my help in diplomatic relations, but I was only a pawn.”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side.

“I think you are wrong. Stand, Princess.”

You rise slowly, with as much grace as you can.

He moves from the throne, stepping over the jaw that frames his seat of power, and moves down the steps toward you.

“In future you kneel for only me, no one else.”

You remain in your place as he slowly circles you.  

“I did lecture your father for his arrogance on an improper read on the state of affairs, assuming Talokan would turn on Fourchon. However, as a king, I do not fault him for caring for the welfare of his people, or for overestimating the value of his kingdom,” he states, his voice warming with this admission. He comes to a stop in front of you. “And to negotiate safety and peace for his people?” He raises his right hand and draws his fingers down reverently along your jaw. “He offers you, his greatest treasure. He insinuates you are worth more than an entire kingdom.”

You open then close your mouth, unsure how to respond to this interpretation. Your eyes search his, but all you can see there is a resoluteness that he truly means what he’s just said. It’s disarming, and with the way your world fell out from under you only minutes ago, you’re unsure of what to trust now.

Namor radiates confidence, it rolls easily off him in waves, but when he takes a step closer, you can feel the heat of him. His fingers move over your shoulder and down the length of your arm, and you shiver but keep holding his gaze. Your instincts tell you that every moment in this room has been significant, it’s determining your future, every movement, every word, every observation.

He takes half a step closer, only a whisper of space between you now, and you hold your ground. He almost smiles, then he turns away, seizing your hand and leading you up the stairs of the dais, and you quickly lift your skirts so you can ascend quickly behind him. Up close you can admire the artistry of the jaw that encases his throne. Like him, it’s charming, beautiful, and dangerous, each intricate designs carved into the bone, and the teeth replaced with jade stones.

“Your father was right to anticipate a shift in my rule.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been king of Talokan for centuries, but my dealings with Wakanda have me considering eventualities of the future.”

Namor takes steps over the jaw, then draws you carefully in with him, still holding your hand as you step over the mighty frame, before finally releasing it. He turns back to look out over the throne room and further the drop off to look out over the kingdom of Talokan, but angles himself slightly toward you as well, and you mirror him. It’s a breathtaking view, and you imagine it is an altogether different manner of beauty with the court or an audience of people called to convene. But like this, still and quiet, it’s ethereal.

“You will be my queen.”

“That’s a bold declaration.”

“You’ve been offered to me in exchange for a promise of peace for your people, would you renege?”

You close your eyes briefly but square your shoulders and shake your head.

“Now you can choose your course in this.”

“Enlighten me,” you can’t hold back, though you do manage to keep your voice even.

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, but he’s speaking again before you can decipher it. “If I’m to have an heir, to secure the future, ensure stability for my people, I need a queen; but whether you merely bear my child or become my consort is something I cannot determine for you. I would prefer the latter.”

In the next second, he’s pulled you to his side and captured your lips in a kiss that is altogether slow and searing. His arm winds around your waist, bringing you flush against him, and your hands move of their own volition to rest on either side of his neck. Heat runs through your veins, and you know without question he could consume you.

You break off the kiss, but he respectfully retreats. He takes a seat on the throne, and you see he’s as breathless as you are.

But you broke off the kiss to ask the question that will haunt you if you don’t ask it.

“You’re truly ready to bind me to your side, just like that? You don’t even know me.”

“This is not a marriage of convenience. This is a marriage of opportunity.”

“I’m not–“

He holds up a hand to silence you, but it’s not in impatience, you can see that in his face, and he immediately says, “I will grant you that we do not know each other yet, but I know enough to know who you are. I have the trusted insight of my ambassador, but I also have accounts from people who have served and interacted with you here in my own kingdom these past two days, and biologically prolonged life or not, a king also doesn’t keep his crown or the respect of his people for as long as I have without being able to judge those around him well. You were taken by surprise today, but you are not naïve. You came to my court to be of counsel, serve, influence. Why should that not still be your fate?”

“A foreign princess?”

He shakes his head and holds his hand out to you. “A queen consort.”

You search his face again. This was the moment. You could not read any falseness, arrogance, or cruelty. Indeed, though he was surprising you with this swift and forthright proposition, your intuition doesn’t question him or his intentions.

You take the hand he presented, and he pulls you forward, placing his hands on your hips once you are close enough and guiding you to sit astride one of his powerful thighs, the rich fabric of your dress sliding up your legs. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

“I want your mind, your body, and your soul,” he says, sealing it with your name, not your title.

“I want the same,” you say.

“You’re sure?”

“I need the same.” Being this close to him is both invigorating and steadying. The way he is looking at you, the way he is holding you, it’s also intimate and heated, and those feelings are amplified as he pulls you just a little closer.

“Then take what you need,” he commands in a tone that makes your heart soar and desire bloom in your stomach. He flexes his thigh against your core, and it spurs you to lean in and kiss him again, hungry for more.

He matches your eagerness. When his tongue seeks entrance, you open your lips, moaning. He begins rocking your hips back and forth over his thigh, and you know he can feel the heat and the wetness of the desire he’s stoked within you seeping through the silk of your underwear. As you take control of moving against him, his hands travel up your sides until he reaches your breasts, and his thumbs brush over the tender flesh. You both moan, him in approval, and you with pleasure. You’re swept away completely in all the sensations, in his passion, your body singing for him. He is a powerful force, one you will have to be sure to meet with your own spirit and fire so you aren’t lost. This union is for fulfilment for you both, not to be destroyed, diminished, or tossed away.

As you speed up, he drops one hand down to anchor on your hips, helping you grind down on his thigh. He keeps flexing it against you, and you whimper, head falling back.

“Keep going,” he growls against the column of your throat, kissing his way down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. “I love the way your body is trembling; I can tell you’re so close.”

“Yes, Namor,” you keen.

“K’uk’ulkan,” he says, and your head snaps back up, eyes locking intensely with his.

“K’uk’ulkan,” you repeat – the invitation to use the more personal name drops the intimacy between you two to a deeper level.

You both move with a desperate frenzy now, you craving the release and him eager to give it to you, his lips searing every inch of the exposed skin available to him at your neck, collar bone, pulling at the neckline of your dress.

“So close,” you cry.

“Let go.”

And you do, tight coil of ecstasy peaking and releasing, you cling to him, and as your body begins to relax wish pleasure, you press your forehead to his, both of your eyes closed now, sealing the moment in your memory.

His hands are slowly running up and down your back. “Jach ma’alob,” he croons softly. “This is enough for now; there will be so much more, my queen.”

Jach ma’alob = very good

PART TWO: COMPANION

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you enjoyed, reblog to help others find this story AND to normalize the fic-reblog culture. There are so many talented writers, and a reblog really fuels the muses of the soul more than you know - we all appreciate it whether we're big or little fish in this pond.

My askbox is always open. See you on the flipside for day four of AHE...

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Okay, a good amount of time has passed, and after having seen this post by @weretiger-be-my-horse , I've been turning it over and over in my brain going absolutely feral over this concept. I need to expand upon my thoughts on this idea and all the evidence there is pointing towards it, whether that be actual tangible things, or purely strong vibes I have.

First of all, full disclaimer: I did not like the season 5 finale, and how it wrapped up the DoA arc. To say that I "disliked" it is putting it extremely lightly, in fact -- I absolutely hated it, and I am still, to a degree, in disbelief that I actually even watched those 24 minutes with my own two eyes, and that it somehow wasn't a complete fever dream. While I'm not going to go in long-winded detail into all the ways that I feel like the finale almost completely bastardized all of its featured characters and destroyed any and all buildup we've had going on in this arc for 50 some chapters now, because that's not the main point of this post, I will not make any attempt to hide the fact that the theory-crafting I'm about to pose here is partly influenced and prompted by how much I hated the finale, and how much I desperately hope that it will not end up being manga canon. Therefore, if you enjoyed the finale — and that's fine! — and don't want to read any negativity about it, then I would not recommend reading any further (I mean, you've probably already left by this point, which is fair lol), While obviously it's important that I be as objective and unbiased as possible when explaining my thoughts, some of my negative feelings about the writing will be a part of this analysis, even if this isn't going to be a full-blown rant. Just know that if you proceed.

With that out of the way, let me continue.

So. In the aforementioned post, the theory presented is that the anime may be operating on an alternate timeline, and that this will become evident once we read the upcoming October chapter, wherein things will go completely differently post-chapter 110 than they do in the final episode — probably for the worse, with the s5 finale intending to lull us into a false sense of security and make us assume that everything in the manga arc finale will wrap up as smoothly and consequence-freely(? lol) as it did in the anime one. It also suggests that the Fukuchi we see at the very end that sskk are fighting came from the manga timeline, where he won, and that he used the Book to jump to a timeline where he lost, the anime one, proven by the fact that this Fukuchi is wearing a mask with the same design on it as the mask Fukuchi is wearing on the chapter 110 DoA color spread/title page.

First of all, I want to note the fact that it's not just the mask design that's the same: the entire outfit is roughly more or less the same as well. It's not completely 1-to-1, because the anime can never fully match the intricacies of Harukawa's beautiful outfit designs, and the Fukuchi in this scene has the kimono half-off because of the... super saiyan mode he's in, but most all of the main pieces of clothing are there. Any small inaccuracies could also be attributed to the fact that Harukawa probably didn't have this finalized art ready back when this episode was being made, so the animators wouldn't have had the complete design to work off of. But in general, because it's all so similar, I think we can quite confidently say that the ending episode Fukuchi is meant to be the one from this manga art.

Also, people have pointed this out, but it's worth mentioning that the mask Asagiri wore at Anime Expo in July was referencing this Fukuchi. It's not a crucial detail, but it just proves more that Asagiri is a gigantic fucking troll, and that he clearly wanted to draw attention to this Fukuchi design. It's important. He describes the mask here as made in the motif of an ellipses inside a speech bubble... could that perhaps be referencing meta aspects, like the Book?

Next, I want to talk about the even bigger elephant in the room, which to me is the most damning and undeniable piece of evidence there is of the anime operating on a completely separate timeline from the manga:

This Fucking Hand™️

As we all know, in the anime, Fyodor injures his hand when the password input device blows up, and as we all know, this does not happen in the manga. In the last episode, Dazai claims that the final nail in the coffin of his impromptu plan to kill Fyodor relied on this hand injury: because Fyodor couldn't pilot his escape helicopter himself, he would ask one of his Meursault vampires to do it for him, unaware that Bram and thus this vampire was now on the ADA's side, and said vampire could kill him while his guard was down.

Ignoring how utterly stupid and contrived this plan is when you stop and think about it for more than two seconds, the fact of the matter is that something that initially seemed like nothing more than an odd but inconsequential anime original addition ended up snowballing into being the entire reason one of the big bads was brought down. If Fyodor hadn't hurt his hand, he wouldn't have needed another pilot, and so the traitor vampire wouldn't have had an opportunity to get near him and kill him without him expecting it even though said vampire was presumably with him as they were leaving Meursault, and was probably already a traitor by then, so there was plenty opportunity for him to still die. not to mention by Chuuya's hands at literally any time he wanted to, because Chuuya was coherent the whole time. Also there's absolutely no way Dazai could have known exactly what Ranpo would do, no matter how smart he is and how much he trusts him. idk it's fucking dumb, just roll with it. Therefore, putting aside all other variables for now, we can conclude that, on the most basic level, this signifies that no hand wound = no death.

And let me tell you, this hand wound bothers me. It really, really does. Because they focus on it a LOT — they go out of their way to draw attention to it MULTIPLE TIMES, from the moment it first happens to the end of the season. Fyodor even talks about it to himself, about Dazai being able to cause him tangible, visible, bodily harm, (something that, again, as far as we've seen, has never happened in the manga). Hell, even after Fyodor's death, they're still drawing attention to it, because his right arm is all of him that survives, and Dazai picks it up and gives it to Nikolai to do his hilarious sad little gay fondling of it played completely straight even though there's nothing straight going on here at all! It's like it's a big red flashing sign at all times going "you see this injured hand? This is important. Are you picking up that it's important? Are you taking note of it?" Why is that? Obviously, it serves to give us the lore crumbs about Fyodor and "that man", but that's hardly the main, much more glaring reason, as I've already mentioned.

Fyodor doesn't hurt his hand in the manga. Fyodor won't die here in the manga. I am so dead serious by this point about this, and it's not just simply the fact that this was absolutely not at all the time for him to die, or the fact that his hand is the reason for his death in the anime in and of itself, but how much EMPHASIS they place on this, and on the hand in general. What would be the point of adding something like this, if it's not meant to alert us to the fact that it has a major impact on how the story plays out? We all know Bones: they struggle to get right and include everything that's already there in the source material; they would never go out of their way to add something this noteworthy if there wasn't a very good reason for it, if it wasn't absolutely necessary. I've seen a few people bring up the fact that Fyodor gets shot in the shoulder by Sigma and that that could lead to the same outcome in the manga, but I disagree: although he has blood on his shoulder in the manga, it seems like the bullet just grazed the top of it, because his arm and hand appears completely functional afterwards (not hanging limp by his side or anything). But that doesn't even matter, because this isn't even about the semantics/logistics of how the hand wound caused Fyodor's death because again, it's a stupid outcome, or what could serve as a substitute in the manga — thematically, this is a textbook example of the butterfly effect. Countless parallel universes exist within this series, ones where even the most minute differences lead to a majorly different outcome: this just happens to be one of them. There's no reason to think it isn't, and there's no reason to not think that the anime wants us to clue into the fact that things only went as smoothly as they did on the Meursault side because of this wound; in other words, that things will go very differently in the manga thanks to the absence of said wound. They wouldn't have added it in the first place and put such clearly deliberate emphasis on it otherwise.

Things are going to happen very differently in the manga, at least when it comes to the Meursault crew (but then, if you assume that, you then naturally assume it all will be very different). This is the only conclusion one can come to with the presentation of this anime-only wound, combined with the fact that parallel universes are a very real thing in BSD.

I'm going to go on a bit of a tangent, so bear with me. I play a lot of visual novels, and although such concepts aren't really as original now as they were a while ago, some of my favorite and some of the very best VNs out there are the ones that break the fourth wall and make the visual novel branching route format directly intertwined with the story: you know, the ones where the characters go "if only I had done things differently, maybe everything would have turned out better...!" in a wink wink nudge nudge moment, and the ones where the characters are aware of the different timelines, even, or even have the ability to gain information from their selves in said alternate timelines to influence events in their current one (I'm intentionally not naming the games I'm thinking of for the sake of spoilers, but if you know, you know lmao). It gets very meta in this regard, and this is how I started viewing BSD through the lens of ever since I first learned about Beast: like a visual novel with many branching routes, and only a few routes that feel entirely "right".

When I first read Dazai's Entrance Exam, I was struck by how unnerving the ending sequence in the abandoned hospital felt. Obviously, Kunikida's internal struggle over Sasaki's actions and motives is him still desperately clinging to his ideal world that does not exist, but the specific type of phrases he uses — "who is wrong?" "[who is] the cause of all this?" "there has to be an ideal world" "there has to be something, I'm sure of it" "There must have been something we could have done!" — and the framing of the scene in general, is eerily reminiscent of a bad ending in a visual novel, to me. There's a haunting, looming, bleak sense that a different outcome could have been achieved, if different decisions had been made, or if things outside of anyone's control had been different... and we know that this is true, because in Beast alone, Kunikida never goes through the Azure Messenger incident, because Dazai doesn't have his entrance exam. Hell, you could even consider the anime's version of the Azure Messenger arc an alternate timeline in of itself, if you really wanted to, long before we even arrive at season 5.

When it comes to Beast, this timeline has almost the opposite feeling of what I described above, that I've also encountered in visual novels: the idea of a "good route" or "good ending" that still doesn't feel quite earned, or as perfect as one would expect. Beast is presented as the "ideal" timeline purely for one sole reason: Oda is alive. It is the only timeline where he's alive, and keeping Oda alive is the ultimate goal Dazai wants to achieve, the only reason this timeline exists; therefore, disregarding all else, Beast should be the best timeline, because Oda's death is the greatest devastation in the series to date. We all want him to live, so why wouldn't the timeline where he does be the best one? And yet... of course, it isn't. Dazai is alone, and steeped in darkness and loneliness without Oda, and dies by the end of the story for Oda's continued living. Atsushi has Kyouka still, but he's suffering and more traumatized, and unable to heal while stuck in the mafia, and neither can Kyouka. Akutagawa is living a much better life in the ADA... but without his sister, and without what he has from his bond with Atsushi in canon, that isn't replicated in Beast. And Oda... Oda is alive, and he has his children and his novel, but there is a feeling that he is aimless, that something in his life is missing. He has everything he ever wanted, but all that means nothing without what he truly needs: Dazai, and his time with Dazai and Ango at the bar. In this way, things going well and us getting what we want — in this case, Oda living — goes against how it's supposed to be, the natural order, which is why it feels so hollow. In the specific visual novel I'm thinking of here as a comparison (again, shoutout if you know), there's an alternate ending that involves you inputting information you gain at the end of the game very early on in the game, wherein the protagonist now has memories of the future and is able to bypass and prevent all of the events that take place normally. This means that people who die or are hurt somehow in general are saved from that fate, and nothing bad ever occurs; everything wraps up neatly and nicely... but again, there's an undeniable, unsettling feeling of emptiness, of a victory that rings hollow, because what's the point if everything is simply handed to you easily, where's the sense of accomplishment, without any struggles to achieve said victories, or any growth along the way? How can it feel earned if one doesn't have to, in Dazai's words, "scream within the storm of uncertainty, and run with flowing blood"?

You can probably already see where I'm going with this.

This finale feels weird. Really, really weird. It feels too cheap, too simple, too unsatisfying. So much so, in fact, that for almost the entire runtime, as I was bombarded with resolution upon resolution one after another, I kept thinking "There's no way this can be real. Where's the catch? When is the "gotcha!" moment gonna happen? The "it was all a dream" reveal?". And this isn't just because I hated the writing, and that it really did feel like a fever dream watching fanfic levels of bad (actually, that's an insult to fanfic writers, tbh; they could do better) — no, it genuinely feels so incredibly fake. Even upon rewatching it and already knowing what happens, my brain still naturally keeps expecting some kinda of "sike, you THOUGHT!" moment to suddenly appear. It just.... feels "too good to be true". Dazai and Chuuya come out unscathed, and it's revealed that they were never in any real danger to begin with. Fyodor, one of our biggest threats, is dealt with supposedly for good (I say "supposedly" only because of the Jesus line, but if anything imo, I think that's just a hint that this won't be the canon ending in the manga, so in a sense he's going to "come back to life"), and Nikolai seems somewhat at peace with his death. The other biggest threat, Fukuchi, is also dealt with, and he and Fukuzawa get their final moment together of closure. Yes, Sigma is left in Meursault don't even get me started on how angry this alone makes me, and Fukuzawa loses Fukuchi, but overall, everything is portrayed in a positive light, and any negatives or losses are quickly glossed over. Everything is tied up nicely, neatly, and smoothly. ...And that is exactly what makes it feel so wrong, and hard to trust in.

I'm not sure if this will make sense, but to me, the finale is so incredibly poorly written that it almost feels.... intentional. It's so bad to the point of feeling self-aware in how bad it is, how unrealistically happy and convenient an ending it is. It had to end this neatly in order to rush to wrap up this arc for the season finale and not leave the last episode on a cliffhanger — which imo is chiefly the main reason it turned out this way, and, if this whole theory is true, Asagiri just used it to his advantage — and I'm not saying this was probably an effect Bones had in mind intentionally, I'm sure they just threw shit at the wall and went with whatever stuck, maaaaybe with some suggestions/approval from Asagiri, but the result is that you have a conclusion that contradicts so much of what was set up before and goes against so many character arcs, making some characters so out of character and even regressing in their development Dazai. I'm talking about Dazai abandoning Sigma, because he would never; hashtag #NOTMYDAZAI. Also Nikolai, Nikolai for most of that is so ooc I can't even begin to describe it oh my god. Everyone is OOC to a degree though lmao, and opens so many plot holes, to the point that it's impossible not to watch all that and get the feeling that it is subtly saying to you "did you really think it could be this easy? It feels wrong, doesn't it? It doesn't feel satisfying. It feels unearned." I find it incredibly interesting and suspicious in particular that they confirmed multiple theories people had about soukoku in Meursault: that Chuuya slowed the elevator's fall so that Dazai wouldn't die from it, that Chuuya slowed down the bullet so that it only penetrated Dazai's skin and not his skull, and that the both of them used Fyodor's camera angle to their advantage because they knew he wouldn't be able to see certain things from his view. I'm not saying that Asagiri trawled BSD twitter and tumblr after those chapters dropped for the most popular theories before the final episode was made lmao, there was no time for that (imagine though lol—), but I do think it's highly likely that he already had in mind exactly what theories would be made about these parts (I mean, the evidence for the gun scene was all there), and that Dazai rattling them off in his long monologue to Fyodor at the end is essentially him speaking to the audience and going "yeah, that's what you would predict, right? Those are the clichés, after all", much like him suggesting earlier that he can maybe bring Chuuya back to himself with a few moving words and the power of friendship, and Fyodor using the split personalities trope to fool Sigma. We expect these tropes to be true. Of course we'd fall for them, as Fyodor tells Sigma, especially if the evidence is right there. But Asagiri himself has explicitly said that he likes doing the opposite of what people expect. And so just because people predicted correctly with the three things I mentioned in this timeline... doesn't mean they'll be true in the manga's. Things happened how we wanted and expected it to, and everything turned out happily. So we can relax now, right? Everything will work out just as easily in the manga, right? Or... is the reason most of this finale feels so fake and unsettling and unsatisfying because it's meant to lull us into a false sense of security before all our heroes lose in the manga? Because deep down, we don't want an ending that's this simple, because we'd rather have a conclusion where our characters have struggled more and grown more and come out the better for it, and we know it?

After rewatching the episode a lot, and watching some other videos, and doing a lot of thinking, I am pretty confident in suspecting that the only part of this finale that is actually from manga canon, aside from Aya jumping off the building of course, is Fyodor and Nikolai's exchange after Fyodor leaves Meursault — specifically, them talking about Fyodor leaving Sigma behind, and their "new game" and Nikolai being excited at the prospect of it. This little conversation actually feels in character for them, and it's easy to tell this when contrasting it with everything that happens immediately after, wherein Fyodor is fatally stabbed, and Nikolai, completely at odds with what he was just talking about, just... stands there and watches Fyodor die while Dazai monologues lmao. I'm not sure if the helicopter is still a factor, but I would bet good money on Fyolai getting out of Meursault being manga canon, and that Dazai and Chuuya getting out as well and killing Fyodor + everything with FukuFuku, is part of the anime original ending, in order to wrap up everything positively. It makes much more sense if you think about, in reality (aka in the manga), Dazai and Chuuya still being left behind in Meursault (where they can eventually try to get Sigma), because none of it was an act and things did not go according to plan, and Fukuchi having an entirely different goal that doesn't feel so stupid and contradictory to his character, and Fukuzawa possibly dying — everyone seemingly loses, with Aya still being the last hope, perhaps by awakening her ability like we all speculated.

There's a youtuber I watch who covers BSD in-depth, despite being an anime-only (she reads the respective manga content after each season, though). Going into this finale, she knew about the fact that the anime had overtaken the manga, though she didn't know where the cutoff point was; despite that, however, she made predictions about what was from the manga so far and what was anime original, and it was almost entirely spot-on, based mostly on what she basically described as "anime original dialogue." She talked about how you can always tell when dialogue is veering into the realm of anime-original, because the sentences are very short, choppy, and slightly out of character, but generic enough to not be TOO out of character, and so that anyone can easily write said lines, even if they're not extremely familiar with the character like the original author would be. And when I heard this explanation, everything clicked — because so much of this finale has dialogue like that. The Fyolai scenes just feel peppered with it, around the lines I mentioned earlier, the Dazai dialogue does too, and ESPECIALLY shit at the end like Fukuchi and Fukuzawa exchanging the cliche death lines to end all death lines: "Are you there? I'm a little tired." "Rest up." That just isn't Bungou Stray Dogs. That isn't Asagiri. BSD is cheesy at times, yes, but it isn't like this; it's smarter. The dialogue is smarter, the explanations/plot twists are smarter, Asagiri is smarter, and the aforementioned youtuber I watched agreed. She's a pretty casual fan of the series, so if even she could pick up on these things, I think it speaks volumes.

I mentioned this briefly earlier, but this theory makes sense if you consider that this situation probably came about because of Bones wanting two seasons back-to-back when they did, and this arc being as long as it is. Season 3 aired in 2019, and I imagine Bones would have wanted season 4 in 2020, and might have then been willing to wait a bit longer for season 5 in order for more of this arc's manga chapters to come out — but then covid happened. Because of that, season 4 was delayed to 2023, creating the longest gap we've had between seasons, and I wouldn't at all be surprised if the delay made them want season 5 right together with it, after getting so far "behind", so to speak. S4 was announced in November of 2021, and roughly around that time, Asagiri was finishing up writing the plot of the DoA arc. If Bones came to him sometime in late 2021 and said they wanted two seasons now (so basically, one giant two cour season), Asagiri would know that not only of course would this arc not be finished publishing in the manga for a very long time yet, but that roughly 20ish episodes would not be enough to cover it all to the end, with this arc being longer than any arc the anime has adapted to date. Because of all this, and the arc manga chapters being nowhere near fully drawn to completion, he'd have to make a decision about what to do, and what to give Bones. Without ending season 5 on a massive cliffhanger that wouldn't be resolved for years until an eventual season 6, the only other option would be to rush towards an anime-original ending for the DoA arc.... and for Asagiri to take advantage of that, and integrate it into BSD's lore. Thereby creating a truly unique cross-media experience that utilizes the different mediums to create multiple timelines, that could make both the anime and manga interact with each other and become part of a bigger picture (not that you'd need to see both to get the full experience, mind you, just that it'd provide a little bonus if you did).... and would without a doubt be Asagiri's biggest surprise yet.

...I feel like at this point I'm starting to ramble, and my evidence become more and more incoherent and less substantial lmao, so I should probably end this post. 💀 Thank you if you've read this far, and hopefully it made some semblance of sense, despite not being structured very well; I know I promised at the start to try to be as objective as possible and curb my negative feelings, but I'm not sure how well I succeeded in that regard. If it weren't for the Fukuchi thing and the Fyodor hand thing, I probably wouldn't take how wrong and strange and bad the finale feels to me as serious evidence about it being an alternate timeline, especially since I seem to be one of the only people who actually hates all of it.... but combined with everything else, I am just so convinced of this theory being true. It started off as pure copium, but as more time has gone on, I fully, 100% believe in my bones (ha) that there is no way that finale is the same Bungou Stray Dogs I know and love, for so many reasons. It just isn't. It can't be. I know BSD better than this, I know Asagiri better than this, and I know that it's absolutely in the realm of possibility for him to cook up this whole scheme to completely blindside us with in the upcoming chapters, because that's exactly the kind of shit Mr. "Please Be Surprised!" himself would pull. If I end up being completely wrong, I guess I'm wrong, and you can laugh at me all you want then.... but I just know that ages ago people were teasing the idea of the anime operating on a different timeline from the manga, and I truly do think that only now are we finally seeing that idea come to fruition, as a setup for Asagiri going full-bore insanity with the Book in the upcoming arc(s). if I and the OP of that theory end up right, this will be the wildest time in the BSD fandom's history.

Like. I cannot even emphasize how hard they are trolling us at this point. Something is going on. Something is being cooked over there, the likes of which we've never seen before... and I don't think any of us are ready for it.

Oh yeah, and one last thing of note: both Fyodor and Nikolai here have their right arms hidden from view. Is that alluding to anything? I'm not sure. I also think that since chapter 110 was so short, next chapter will likely be 110.5 instead of 111, and if that's the case, this title spread could still technically be associated with the next chapter... wherein we might see this Fukuchi, who ends up wreaking havoc, right before he jumps to the timeline in the anime, as we see him at the end of the s5 finale.

I guess we'll find out on Tuesday.

[dulcelovestoomuch]

The Details of You // Mammon x Artist!reader

✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°

Before coming to Devildom, you were in the worst art block you had ever been in. No lines seemed right. Shapes held no meaning. You couldn't breathe life or passion into anything you worked on. Torn paper decorated the floors, snapped pencils rested on your desk, and sketchbooks laid bare.

Then, things changed. You met the others and it seemed you could find beauty in everything. You could find inspiration simply by looking around.

However, nothing gave you more inspiration than the avatar of greed. He had somehow become a muse. The pages of every sketchbook had a drawing of him. Portraits of smiles and frowns, of anger and sadness, of excitement and embarrassment. Somehow you could perfectly remember these expressions, as if they were etched into your brain by Mammon himself.

Yet, it sometimes grew frustrating.

You could eventually perfect his features, but sometimes struggled with drawing him without reference. On your worst days, something was always off no matter how much you redrew him.

So, it was simple.

You decided to ask him.

"Mammon, I have a favor to ask," You worked up the courage to say, interrupting his "concentration" on studying.

"You're' asking me for a favor?" Mammon tilted his head, "Sure, but ya definitely owe me one!"

He gave your a playful smile; it could rival the sun in your opinion.

"Uh, sure," You replied, "I've been running out of inspiration lately. Do you think I could draw you?"

Mammon raised a brow, "Is that all, human? Go ahead! Who wouldn't want to draw the great Mammon?"

You suppressed the urge to fondly roll your eyes, grabbing a sketchbook and pencils from you desk. You nudged some books to side with your foot, before sitting front of him. You both sat on the floor; Mammon waiting as you flipped to a blank page in your sketchbook.

"Okay, so just stay still," You said, grabbing a 3H pencil. You began with drawing the face, getting the general shape of his face down on paper.

"Ya got it, human," Mammon spoke, "Won't move a muscle,"

A few moments rolled by, silent and calm. Your eyes would lock onto his face every so often. You didn't know, but it felt piercing to Mammon. You staring at him with such a strong, focused gaze was something he wasn't used to. He gulped, his face burning and body itching to move. So, the silence came to an end.

"So," Mammon said, "Why did ya want to draw me anyway?"

You shrugged, grabbing a darker pencil to work on detailing his facial features. "Just wanted to,"

He opened his mouth to say something more, but snapped it shut when your gaze focused on him again.

"Do you not want me to?"

Mammon flinched, cheeks reddening, "I didn't say that."

"Then, let me work!" You huffed, focusing back down on the paper.

Mammon frowned, looking away. You sighed, placing the sketchbook at you side before inching closer to Mammon. You gripped him by the chin, forcing him to look at you. You could see his skin turn red; his eyes shook as his mouth opened and shut like a fish.

"W-Whaddya think you're doing?" He said, looking everywhere but you.

"I told you to stay still," You said, "Keep looking at me,"

"O-okay, I got it," Mammon stammered, "Ya don't have to keep holding my face like this,"

"Mammon," You said gently, "What's wrong?"

"Wha... nothing's wrong." Mammon pulled away, "Nope, nothing at all,"

"Mammon..." You grabbed his face again. This time he managed to lock eyes with you, but his skin turned from a muted red to crimson.

"Ya just... never drew me before," Mammon explained, "I ain't used to it,"

You sighed.

He is as adorable as he is frustrating. You move back to your prior spot, grabbing your sketchbook and pencil once more.

"Fine, just stay still, okay? I'm almost done,"

Silence continued, only the sound of breath and of pencil on paper was audible in the room.

Having him as a reference made the details so easier to grasp. It make life come easier to the paper before you. You could finally draw every detail you forgot and improve upon every detail you remembered.

When you finished, you put the pencil down.

"Finally finished? It took forever!" Mammon grumbled, "Let me see it,"

You handed the sketchbook to him. He took it with a confident grin, only to freeze when he saw it.

"Does it look bad?" You asked.

Mammon's cheeks burned a cherry red, "I-I mean... it ain't too bad to look at. It's a drawing of me after all!"

He stared at it for a few more moments.

"Well, can I get it back then?"

"Nope!"

A loud tear filled the air.

Mammon tore the drawing out the sketchbook, before running out the room with a shout of "thanks!".

You stood up, running after him. The chase would be unsuccessful, as you yelled at him to come back, but couldn't keep up regardless.

However, when you would later go to his room, your drawing would be there framed. Mammon would blush, ranting about how because it was a drawing of him, he had to put it in his room.

It wasn't because that drawing showed how you viewed him. It also definitely wasn't because it was a drawing you did of him, with so much care and detail that it made his heart melt.

His stuttering and stammering continued on, before you simply gave him a kiss and pulled him back to your room.

Maybe you weren't so mad at him taking it.

Maybe now you had a willing muse.

✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°

This was my first fic in the fandom, just wanted to do something quick and simple, hope you enjoyed! (⌒▽⌒)☆

[chiquititaosita]

if you can, could you write op monster trio with a sick reader? (pre-chopper joining the team)

ive been sick for the past week and one piece has turned into my comfort anime, and i still have a lonv way to go haha

thank you in advance, hope you're having a nice day!

i got you my darling! im just recovering from being sick three weeks ago. (Sinus and chest congestion) please get some rest and remember to try and rest as much as possible. good luck (I’m still getting there with you :) )

Fluff, cute shit. And just vibing

Monster trio with a sick reader (pre- chopper joining)

Luffy

- don’t get me started 😭

- he’s going to want you to rest. Even if you’re feeling fine. He’s going to make sure you’re being taken care for by sanji (since luffy says his soups can help a cold)

-“ NO y/n.. rest.” he’ll say it in a stern like tone

- Out of the times he was serious outside OF FIGHTING

- he’s only harsh on you when you’re sick because he loves you that’s why.

-“I want you to rest! So you can get stronger!”

-“so when you’re strong enough ! I’ll be able to protect you.” He grins as he’s nuzzling your face.

- “hey y/n! how are you feeling?” He’ll walk in with a happiest grin on his face.

- if he doesn’t sleep in your quarters that night or during those nights. When he wakes up you’re the very first person on top of his brain.

-he’ll sometimes surprise you with drawings (I think he draws stick figures sometimes lol) “look what I made you!”-

-“see it’s you me and the treasure we found!”

-“what’ are those other people right there?” You pointed at that pft of the drawing.

-“oh that’s zoro with his swords and sanji smoking a cigarette, nami is there stealing the money. That’s ussopp shooting a cannon. Oh look that’s robin not giving a-“ you love how creative he is.

- when you get better he lets you do more tasks just to stimulate your brain.

- recovery is just him being excited because he knows you’re being loved and cared for

Zoro

-“woah you okay?”

- “y-yeah I’m fi-fine.” you replied in between coughs.

-ngl zoro will drop everything to protect you.

-“you have to rest.. dummy.” he’ll flick in your forehead because you’re a stubborn pendeja

-“noooo i Can get up..” you fell as he picked you up for almost fainting. It had been a few hours since you passed out, and zoro periodically checked up on you everyday. but today felt different.

-zoro went to go and see you. That was until he noticed a blonde male with curly eyebrows humming and holding a dish going into the same direction he’s going to.

-“what’s that for?” Zoro referred to the dish

-“oh this is for Y/n Chan! I heard she was sick, so I made her some soup to cheer her up” he mentioned, and asked why zoro was going to see you

-“I’m checking on her… that’s all.” He blushed lightly, looking away.

-“ you know ever since she came on the sunny. You’ve gotten soft.” Sanji snickered as he was keeping his laughter down.

“Why I outta—-“ he’s just going to argue with him usually but today he had no energy for that.

-“forget it. I guess you’re right I just really care about her you know .” The moss head huffed as he was given the dish.

- “shit I gotta finish dinner!- give this to y/n chwan will you?!” Sanji literally ran off to the kitchen just as zoro made it to your door.

“Oi, y/n Can I come in?” zoro poked his head out of the door.

-“ it’s open.” you mumbled as you were bundled into the blankets. You smelled the soup and poked your head out.

-“hey.. how are you feeling?” he placed the dish of soup down on the little table near you, and gazed upon you. Zoro had missed your face. He hated seeing you feeling unwell, and miserable.

-“I’m okay. Just bored…sick and out of my mind….what’s that for.?” You pointed at the soup

-“curly made you dinner and wanted you to eat first. He said he hopes you feel better.” He rolled his eyes over the words about a certain cook. You couldn’t help but chuckle

-“awe that’s sweet of him. But what about you?” You gestured him to come lay with you, and he plopped himself onto your warm body, clinging onto you like a little koala.

-“ why did you come back? I thought you were training.” you hugged him as he laid on top of you, he hadn’t thought about it like that. Zoro just missed hearing your voice motivating him to keep going, seeing your smile, hearing your voice, especially seeing you looking adorable when mad or yelling. Annoying him while training.

- Literally you were like his personal chihuahua. It just didn’t feel the same without your presence near him. Especially when y’all took naps together after training or if y’all just felt lazy.

-“i- well- um. I finished early. it was just..that I like- training with you more. It was annoying to not hear you yell my name ‘zoro this zoro that zoro can we take a break my boobs hurt?’ ‘Zoro carry me. Zo-Chan hold my hand. ‘“ he mocked your voice and it made you laugh as you nuzzled into it.

-“Awee so you did miss me..” you nuzzled him, as he pulled himself up to hug you in the bed.

-“don’t push it..” he rolled his eyes as he kissed the top of your head.

-“I love you.”

-“ I love you too you big goof.” You sighed happily as you knew you were the luckiest woman on earth.

Sanji

- now him HEHEHEHE OMG

- the minute he noticed you were sick, you missed breakfast and you never EVER MISS BREAKFAST! You get up around the same time as sanji.

- “y/n- my loveee! It’s time to get up!!” He sang as he tried to wake you up from you quarters.

-“ really? It’s too early .” you coughed into your fist. You sounded very congested, and your eyes looked so puffy. Your natural bed head with your textured mane, all over the place. he was in awe of how beautiful you sounded in the morning!!

-Sanji immediately gasped as he heard your voice. “Oh no! My Angel! You’re sick!! please lay down to rest! Your prince is going to take care of you!!” he kissed the top of your head, placing your tea near the night stand.

“S-sanji i’m f-fine!!” You tried to push him off your shoulders that was until you ran to the bathroom. acid reflux! or even food poisoning DUN DUN DUN. You must’ve felt like your guts were being rearranged and not the good kind. Luckily it was not sanjis cooking. Because he would’ve been crushed. It was someone else’s leftovers from the previous island you brought in.

-he immediately ran after you, patting your back. “It’s okay, darling. Let it out. you’ll be okay.” He’ll gently pull away your hair out of your face. when you finished throwing up you began to wash up. You went to the kitchen to see if you could put up your cup of tea and wash it.

-that was originally the plan until your blonde man put his hand over your hand, disposing his cigarette immediately after seeing you in sweatpants and a big baggy tshirt. His eyes go into heart shapes.

- “You look adorable as ever.” He coos and pinches your cheeks. you rolled your eyes at him.

-“oh hush your face babe. ..” you mumbled as he embraced you.

-“let me wash that cup for you. Go sit down I’ll make you a plate ” he kissed your cheeks, and booped your nose then forcing your stubborn ass to sit down, after taking your empty cup of tea away from you. you just loved how he shook his hips and sang a little song about you making your plate. it’s one of the reasons you fell in love with him.

-“are you singing [song name]??” You giggled

“Yup!!! Because it’s your fault! You got it stuck.in . My. Head.” He poked you jokingly and lovingly at the end of each syllable. Serving you a cup of fruits and sweets.

-“oh shut up you!! how was breakfast?” You asked him as you were tracing the table cloth, sitting in your seat. You’re not even used to the princess treatment that he’s been giving you.

-“ it was good, I already told everyone you weren’t feeling well, they went off the ship already to gather resources and meds to make sure you feel better” you smiled at him already as he made you some avocado toast, taking a bite of the dishes your face lit up, as you did a little happy dance.

- you know when the food is delicious when you do a happy dance when you eat.

- “Oh my how this is amazing.I’m so happy I can taste your food!” you smiled at him with a little sniffle

-“oh y/n merolineee! the way you compliments me takes me a few steps from ascending into heaven.”

- yes overall Sanji best boy to take care of you during pre chopper era.

[pebblestar]

Donnie x reader

Unexpected

(( hurt >> fluff. ))

"These look great Donnie- With these plans the new route you came up with may just be a tad bit easier to navigate. Less of shredders army of zombie mutants." At your words, The faintest smile makes it way onto Donnie's face. It'd been some time since you'd even seen a genuine smile on his face. Not since the apocalypse had practically shook New York. You draw in a breath as you shift from one foot to the other as anxiety begins to creep it's way up your spine. For the first time in nearly five weeks now, You two were finally talking. You should be happy. After all, it should've meant that maybe just maybe there was still hope to salvage the both of your relationship together. But that thought was immediately snuffed out by the negative thoughts nagging at the back of your brain- Of just how the turtle may wind up never speaking to you again. Still, you had to try. "Don look... I know with everything that has happened... Mikey falling into a coma, Leonardo losing a arm and Raph nearly becoming zombified in the process..." At your words, A realization seems to dawn on the turtle and almost immediately he's spinning around in his chair to face the scattered papers in front of him. "Y/n, Now really isn't a good time." "Please Don just listen to what I have to say-" "I'm really busy." "I understand that but if I could just-" The loud slam of Donnie's hand hitting the metal desk has you practically jumping backwards in alarm.

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes but you will yourself to be strong.

With a intake of shaky breath you manage to voice your frustrations.

"You have no right to be pissed off at me Donnie. I respect your decision to break up-"

The turtle begins to make a sound of protest or maybe to agrue with you.

But you only ignore him and contuine.

"I think you forget that Mikey, Leo, and raph are my family too. Fuck I'm just as upset as you are."

You find yourself pausing- Uncertain of how exactly go about what to say next.

But with the anxiety weighing heavy on your shoulders, You find yourself shrinking into yourself.

You couldn't get out with it.

It'd only make things worse for Donnie.

"...I...This is a bad time. You are right. Sorry for bothering you."

Now with the loss of your confidence, you find yourself turning around and trying to hurry out of the lab before you can fully break into tears.

But before you can even reach the exit, A hand reaches out for yours.

"Wait. Wait..."

Donnie seems to finally take notice that you aren't yourself.

And maybe you haven't been in weeks and he just didn't care enough to notice.

With the turtle now moving to stand in front of you, He draws in a breath.

"I'm being the real asshole here. I'm sorry. Please, Tell me what you were trying to say?"

You pull away from Donnie as frustration bubbles up to the surface and without another word your reaching into your pocket and practically shoving the three pink sticks into his hands.

The tears are soon blurring your vision and any frustration you feel toward the turtle is out the window.

You try stepping past Donnie only for the turtle to mirror your movements with a look on his face you can't quite place.

"Your pregnant."

He stares almost in disbelief at the pregnancy stick in front of him.

"This... Your actually serious."

You give a nod not trusting yourself to speak just yet.

Donnie sets the pregnancy sticks down.

"I... I didn't know. Y/n I'm-" "It's fine. I'll handle it on my own and you won't have to worry, Don. Because I know your busy, I know and I don't want to- Don't want to..." The tears that streak down your face have Donnie practically freezing in place and his heart clenches at the sight. "Let's sit down. Come on." He gently coaxes and leds you to the couch. Donnie reaches for your hands but pauses uncertainly. There's no time for overthinking, As your reaching out for a hug from the turtle despite everything that'd happened between the two of you. With a hand running soothingly along your back, He holds you just a bit tighter. He'd missed you so much. And internally he's kicking himself for being such a idiot. A silence seems to envelope the lab and patiently Donnie waits for your sniffling to subside. It takes time for you to fully calm down. But he doesn't mind. After all, you were worth it. With gentle hands, He carefully cups your face. "It'll take a lot of hard work from the both of us... But," A hand reaches down to brush against your stomach and for a brief moment you swear you can see a look of warmth flash in Donnie's eyes. "I'm more then willing to put in the effort for the both of you. You're both worth it. I'm not going to leave your side." You look into Donnie's eyes wanting to silently hold him to that promise. "... I know that we have a lot to talk through. But I want to be here for you especially now, Y/n." With a intake of breath, You reach out to grasp Donnie's hands in yours. "Then let's take it step by step. Slowly." Donnie gives a nod at your words before letting out a sigh of relief smiling softly.

There's a brief pause then, ".... I know where Mikey stashes the chocolate," He presses a kiss to your forehead before standing up. "I'll be right back. Why don't you find us a movie to watch?" "m'kay. Don't keep me waiting too long." The turtle sends a wink your way before exiting the lab altogether. While there was much to talk about and things that still needed to be mended, for now this was a good first step toward fixing the both of your relationship.

That was enough for you.

[thatsillysaurus]

Something I don't understand

That's the thing I don't understand: when people go out of their way directly to get angry at people they have never met, and likely never will, just because they are doing something strange or different. Let me give you a quick little scenario- If I was walking through a shop, and they were selling a food I don't like, I would just walk away from it, would I not? I wouldn't give it a second thought. Maybe if someone else came over and picked it up, I might at most think "dude why do you like that stuff, it's gross", but that's it. But something I definitely wouldn't do is turn to that person and start screaming at them. If I was stood in a random isle of Target or some shit, screaming at someone about how "they should kill themself for liking that, I'm going to kill you for liking that, this shop needs to be closed for selling that" I would look absolutely insane, would I not? I would be asked by a member of staff, or anyone with a brain, to leave, would I not? And yet the moment this scenario is turned on someone who is "strange" or "unusual", that view is completely flipped. It's so strange to me to think about the fact that we as a society are so adamant about "letting others be themselves" and "living our lives to the fullest", yet if someone's idea of "being themself" is different to the norm, suddenly they are the monsters for acting out, and not those delivering literal death threats and hatred to those out there just living their lives peacefully. How I live doesn't hurt anyone. You don't have to support me. You don't have to like me. You don't have to pay any attention to me at all. If you don't like what you see, we could both quite easily be contented and happy ignoring each other and going about the rest of our lives in peace. So why do you choose not to? If you don't like me, you could quite simply stay off my blog. Leave. You could even block me if you wanted. You are free to your opinions. But the moment you start using those opinions to hurt people who have done nothing wrong, that's where I draw the line. I'm fine if you don't believe the same things as me. I'm fine if you don't like the things I do. But I'm just enjoying myself without hurting anyone, so if you want to start hurting me, that's on you. And I can't as easily forgive you targeting innocent and peaceful people because they "aren't normal". Threatening minors and bullying people you know nothing about isn't "normal". Grow the fuck up and get over yourself. If they aren't hurting anyone, just let people be happy. Let me be happy. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk I guess :]

[gaybananabread]

⌁₊˚⊹ Jay's Silly Moods⊹˚₊⌁

(Art this is based off of)

Definitely getting back into Ninjago… Halfway through drawing this, I got a very strong urge to write a self-indulgent fic. These goobers are slowly regaining their vice grip on my brain. I might be getting to the “Requested When Shit Was Closed” prompts soon, but big possibility. Back on task, I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Jay

Ler: Cole

Summary: Jay’s been zapping his shipmates, sneaking in quick pokes and shockingly ticklish squeezes whenever he can. While it isn't his intention, most of those are aimed at Cole. Sick of the surprise jolts, the Earth ninja has a little vengeful fun of his own.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

The ninja were peacefully relaxing on the couch, trying to unwind after a long day of battles and villain encounters. Cole was listening to music, the faint sounds of “dad rock” coming through his headphones as he rested his arms behind his head. Zane was messing around with his circuitry, and Kai was sprawled out, trying to nap. 

The only one not lazing around was Jay; he had a much more mischievous way of cooling down in mind. 

Sneaking up near the couch, he positioned himself right behind the relaxed Cole. Not wasting another second, he sent a very small amount of electricity to his finger tips, tasing Cole's sides before taking off. The rocky boy jolted out of his trance, a surprised laugh flying from his lips as his arms came crashing down.

“GYAH! W-whahat the hell?” When he turned around to his perpetrator, though, all he saw was a streak of blue disappear around the corner. “Zappy jerk…”

Zane chuckled, shaking his head before resuming his tinkering. Kai was still snoozing, oblivious to the world. With a huff, Cole lowered his arms, not wanting to risk another attack before relaxing again. Damn Jay's silly moods…

-

The whole rest of that week was full of little pokes, squeezes and zaps from the blue ninja. Whenever anyone even thought of letting their guard down, he'd be there, disappearing the moment they tried to retaliate or catch him.

Most of the team just ignored it, used to his silly behavior. Sure, it was a little annoying sometimes, but it was all in good fun. Everyone was fine with that.

Everyone except Cole.

While he loves his friend's quirks, the constant tickling was getting on his nerves. The guy wore tank-tops daily; it wasn't exactly hard for Jay to get him.

But he had a plan. One that would surely keep Jay off his back, or at least for a little while. So, sitting on the couch and sprawling out, he waited for the inevitable pokes that would seal his fellow ninja's fate.

-

Jay snickered as he saw his rocky friend, sprawled out and relaxing on the couch. It was too easy! He should have been suspicious, but the brain goblins were overpowering his rationality with mischief.

Creeping over to the couch, he sent small sparks to his fingers. Just a little closer…wait is he smili-

“GOTCHA!”

Before Jay could even think to run, Cole shot his hands upward, latching onto the sparky boy’s wrists and flipping him over the couch. Cole was careful not to hurt him, though the shriek Jay let out surely did some hearing damage. 

He was pinned in seconds, stuck lying on his stomach with a rather intimidating man on his waist. Whatever his friend was gonna do, he literally couldn't see it coming.

Anticipatory giggles bubbled past Jay's lips, his eyes wide and giddy-looking. “C-Cole, wait! Lehet's talk about thihihis!”

Cracking his neck, Cole smirked down at his fellow ninja. “Neh, I'm good. Actions have consequences, Jay..”

Without another word, Cole dug into the sparky boy's sides, squeezing the sensitive skin. He was done with Jay's shit; it was payback time.

“Nohohoho! Cohome on, thihihis ihis mehehean!” The brat tried to wriggle out of the hold, but Cole's hands were just out of reach. The position he was in was evil: Who pins people on their stomach?!

“You know what's mean? Poking your friends when they're trying to get stuff done. I'd say you deserve this, wouldn’t you?” He smirked, scritching little lightning bolts on his sides. It was silly, sure, but he kinda asked for it.

Jay kicked his feet behind Cole, trying anything to make things tickle less. It was a fruitless effort, though: he was stuck. 

“Plehehease! Ihit’s nohohot fahair!” His giggling sounded whiny, like a child throwing a tantrum.

Cole scoffed and rolled his eyes. He wants to see unfair? Cole’ll show him unfair…

Snickering, he moved up to the zappy boy’s ribs, digging in and wiggling his fingers between each bone. That should kill him.

“C-Cohohole! Grk- NOHOhohot thehere! I'M SOHAHARRY! NYAHAHAHA!” Jay lost it when Cole dug into his ribs, loud belly laughter quickly replacing his giggles. Little snorts and squeaks flowed with the laughter, only adding to the mild chaos.

“Hmhmph. Sparky brat…” Cole just chuckled smugly, continuing to torment his fellow ninja. Besides the payback, his cute reactions were well worth it.

Thrashing wildly, Jay laughed his ass off, the tickling on his worst spot driving him insane. “P-PLEHEASE! COHOHOLE! I CAHAHAN’T-” He patted his hand, palm flat against the floor. 

The moment Cole saw the tapping-out, he knew it was time to quit. Pulling his hands away, he climbed off Jay. The giggly boy immediately curled up in a ball, tickle-drunk and giddy. 

“You alive, sparky?” Cole asked while rubbing Jay's back, trying to calm him down. There was an air of humor in his tone, but he was trying to be nice.

Jay tried to catch his breath, his cheeks flush and his nerves buzzing. “F-fuhuck youhuhu…”

“Alright, alright. I'm done being mean.” Snorting, Cole pulled his friend up into a hug. It was clear he enjoyed the short bout of being tickled, the agitation just a facade.“Next time, try just asking for what you want, okay? I'd be happy to help~”

Blushing heavily, Jay whined, though he did relax into the hug. It was warm, nice, and calming after all the laughter. Muttering something under his breath, Jay leaned his head against Cole's chest. If he wanted to be mean, the rocky boy was gonna be a pillow.

Cole lifted him up with a huff, carrying the lightning ninja to their beds. He laid him down, cuddling up next to him and pulling a blanket over them both. It wasn't a rare sight: the ninja saw some things on missions, and physical contact helped keep them calm.

It was ten o’clock: not the latest for them, but good enough to doze off. Cole closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of his fellow ninja and the happy air in the room. Yeah, he could get used to Jay's goofy moods…