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manias-wordcount · 6 days ago

Note

Hiiii, I've been lurking around for a while..hihi.

Your fic about Kayn being very sensual with us and his fingers doing lovely things.. has piqued my interest. I was wondering if you'd be willing to write for Sett x reader, NSFW if you'd like but most importantly playing with Sett's ears, touching and bitting them.

Have a nice day <3

Favorite Position (Sett x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗼𝗸𝗮𝘆 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻𝘁 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 (𝗶𝗺 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗯𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 ��𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘆𝘄𝗶𝗿𝗲 </𝟯) 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁! 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗱𝗼 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

He likes to have you in a lot of different ways.

Against the wall. On the bed. Over his desk. On the floor.

Sideways. From behind. Upside down. On your knees. Standing up. Lying down. And more.

But you noticed early on that he had a favorite position. A favorite way to have you, that is. He always gravitated to it. In fact, you never fucked without hitting this spot at least once. And for some reason…it was always at the end. Always as the finale. Always, always, always his favorite part. The part that he would hold you the tightest. The part where he fuck you the hardest.

“That’s it…that’s my girl. Taking my cock like a queen.”

The part where he would put you on his lap and pound into you for so long that you start to forget what your body feels like without him inside of it.

“Uhm…ah…ah~!” Your mouth tries to form words at his praise. Something to let him know how good you’re feeling. Or maybe you were trying to express approval for the name he just called you? You’re not sure. Whatever you must have been thinking of doing a couple of seconds ago has already disappeared from your mind. But that’s not exactly anything new. It’s always been hard to think when you’re with him. But it gets especially hard to do whenever it gets to splitting you open just like this. “S…sett…oh…oh~!”

Currently, he’s got you facing him with his hands on your hips as he bounces you up and down on his cock with a pace that’s almost bruising. Your legs straddle his and your arms hold on to his broad shoulders in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. But there’s too much to focus on at the moment. Whenever he has you like this, you find yourself overwhelmed by every single little thing you feel and hear and see. Like the warmth of his large, large hands as they cover a significant part of your torso just by him holding it. Or the lewd sounds of him stirring up your insides as his thick cock slides in and out of your pussy with far more ease than earlier now that he’s got you properly stretched for him. Or the warmth of his firm, muscular body as he holds you tight to the point of squishing your chest against his, almost making it hard to breathe.

Or the soft brushes of his hair- his bangs- as he pushes his forehead against yours and gives a half-lidded stare as he coaxes you into another orgasm. One that is building far sooner than you thought possible after the last one he gave you.

Or the sight of his ears as they twitch and flatten against the top of his head in concentration. His ears that look so…so soft…so cute…so…so…

“Careful now…”

It’s Sett’s sudden and deep voice, purring right by your ear, that snaps you out of your sudden trance. His words are teasing. Knowing. Like he’s just letting you in on a secret or a game. It’s then that your eyes flicker to meet his gaze, and you’re instantly taken in by the smirk he’s sending your way. The smirk that seems to grow even wider the second he sees you part your lips to let out a particularly loud and whiny moan.

It’s only then that you realize your hands are no longer on his shoulders and your fingers are no longer digging little crescent moons into his skin as you hold him unbearably tight. No, your hands are in his scarlet-colored hair right now. Or more specifically, they’re holding onto his ears.

Somewhere along the way, you must have tempted yourself into running your fingers through his hair first. Because right now, it’s all a tangled mess. Messier than before you started rolling around with no clothes on. It sticks straight up in some areas and is far too flat in others. It’s all over the place and all in his face and absolutely nothing like how he styles it usually. But honestly? You can’t even be bothered to concern yourself with something as trivial as hair. Because right now, you’re touching something important. You’re touching Sett’s ears.

And for the first time, too.

At the moment, you have your fingers wrapped around them- right around the bottom where they start to connect with his head. Your grip is curious, but it isn’t too tight. Just a little firm. Just enough for him to feel it. And just enough for you to determine that it feels almost like an animal. They’re soft and not too hard. But solid and somewhat stiff as they stand straight up in your hands. They’re a pretty color, too. The same color as his hair, but a little darker at times and a little lighter in places, like the inside. It makes you smile. It makes you feel soft. Big, tough Sett. Big, scary bossman Sett.

And his cute, fluffy little ears.

“They’re extra sensitive like this,” Sett admits to you in between labored breaths as he continues to jerk his hips upwards and bounce you on his cock. So far, he hasn't stopped fucking you. Not even for a single second. If he’s running low on stamina, you haven't experienced any of the signs yet. But he has slowed down to a more manageable, more controllable pace as your hands mess around with the top of his head. Exploring and touching all the new territory before you now that you're in a position to be tall enough to reach all of this.“Hrrmgh…they…they really like to be touched by pretty little things, alright? So be a good girl…”

You find yourself nodding absently as your fingers continue to stroke the length of his ears, barely even listening to the words he says. You push his ears against his head and make them stand up straight and do the same thing all over again. Below you, Sett groans a deep, pleasant sound that sends shivers down your spine. His hips start to stutter, and his pace gets sloppy. And every time you look down at him, you don’t see the smirk he was giving you earlier.

Instead, you see his bottom lip being trapped between his teeth as his eyes squeeze shut. You see him muttering curses underneath his breath about what you’re doing to him. You see him start to crack. You see him start to unravel. You see him start to melt under pressure. You start to see him give in to the pleasure. As you touch his ears more. As you tug them more. As you play with them more. As you focus on them more. As you do more, more, more.

And the funny thing is? This is his favorite position. On his lap. At his mercy. Whining and moaning and squirming at his mercy as he sets the pace. As he fills you up. As he makes you feel good. This is his favorite position. And yet you’ve never done this before.

And yet you’ve never touched his ears before.

But here you are, running your fingers all over them as you watch him make faces and noises of pleasure you’ve never heard or seen him make before. All because you got a little too wrapped up in the moment. All because you saw something a little too cute. Something you were a little too curious about. Something you just had to touch. Even while you were getting your brains fucked out.

But it’s alright. It’s more than alright, actually. Because Sett likes what you’re doing. And you like all his reactions to what you’re doing. You like how you can see his eyes rolling back and his muscles growing tight with strained usage. You like how you can hear him start to whimper- start to whine whenever you find a spot on or between his ears that is extra, extra, extra sensitive. And you like how you’re driving him crazy with want- with need- as his strokes get sloppier and messier and needier by the minute.

But most of all, you like how you can do this from the best seat in the house. You like how it’s you who’s doing this to him. During his favorite position, at that. Although if you’re being completely honest. It’s not just his favorite. Not anymore, at least. Because right now?

It’s rapidly becoming your favorite position, too.

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manias-wordcount · 9 days ago

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Hello!! I love your writing and was wondering if you could do an angsty hurt/comfort scenario with Edward from FMAB? Basically Reader was someone who accidentally got caught up in their transmutation circle after going to go check on the brothers and ended up losing their voice because of it, Reader was also someone who talked alot and wad very verbal so having their voice gone was an adjustment.

The angst comes in where Edward realizes he can’t really remember what their voice sounds like anymore because of how long they haven’t spoken and he feels guilty because they still smile and act all happy around him as if he didn’t permanently damage them. Thank you for your time! 🙏🏾

Fill the Silence (Edward Elric x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

He finds himself in this position with you relatively often.

When there’s nothing to do. When there’s no one around. When there’s nowhere to be. He finds himself holding you close and reading to you.

When it happens, it happens naturally. He doesn’t need to seek it out. He doesn’t need to say the magic word or speak a command. One moment, he just blinks and suddenly you’re right there. Right where he wants you to be. Right where he needs you to be. And this? Tonight? Tonight happened just as naturally, too.

The only difference is that tonight had you crawling onto the bed of his hotel room, dragging a blanket behind you as you collapsed right onto his awaiting arm. Tonight had you staying up late- later than Ed would have liked for you- as you listened to him read passages from the research paper he had been combing through since sundown and speak his thoughts out loud as he tried to figure out the hidden meaning being trapped within the pages. And tonight had you nodding at blinking up at him sleepily as you struggled to keep up with his every word, as Ed kept one eye trained on your expression and one arm curled around your waist. His right arm. His automail arm.

His arm that suffered the same fate as you. The same fate as your voice. The fate that he bestowed upon you.

And yet, you still crawl into his arms every chance. And yet, you still look at him like he’s the most amazing thing in the world.

When he thinks about that moment, he’s filled with nothing but regret over what happened to his brother and you. But in a way, he’s lucky, he supposes. You both are. He could have done far worse to you. His brother disappeared right before his very eyes, only to come back to a body made entirely out of metal. Unable to feel. Unable to be human. But you? You weren’t involved in the circle, but you were close enough to be hurt. You were close enough to be killed. But you weren’t. You weren’t stolen from your family. You weren’t stolen from him. He can still touch you. He can still feel you. The you that he grew up with. The you that he loves. The you who his heart beats for.

But he sees it. He sees the scar on your neck every time you lift your head just high enough to look at him. He sees the reminder of what was stolen from you. Of what his actions…his stupid, selfish, careless actions stole from you.

You used to talk a lot when you were both younger. He almost used to find it annoying. Because you were always talking about something. Asking him questions. Laughing at jokes. Squealing at something cute and screaming at something scary. He used to hate it. The same way young kids hate things they don't know how to cherish. The same way young kids hate things they don’t realize they can lose in the blink of an eye if they’re not careful. And he wasn’t careful. And now?

He doesn’t even remember what your voice used to sound like.

Was it soft and sweet? Was it low and rough? Was it loud and strong? What was it? What did it sound like? Could you sing? Did you ever whistle? How would it have changed now that you’re both older? All those questions. All those questions and more, he wants to ask. All those questions and more he wants to ask, but he knows he can’t. Because you can’t respond to him. Because you can’t speak. Because he doesn’t even know if you’ll even know the answers.

And he can’t stand the guilt of watching you part your lips and open your mouth only for you to realize- only for you to remember that you can no longer speak. That no matter how hard you try, nothing will come out. Absolutely nothing.

You’ve changed. Not because you wanted to. But because he did that to you. He put you in danger. He stole your voice. He stole an important part of you. He did this to you. He did this to you.

And now you’re paying the price for it. Now, you’ve changed because of it. Now, you draw yourself in around others. Since the day the transfiguration circle went wrong, you’ve turned into a much shyer, much more reserved version of yourself. He didn’t notice it when he was first going through physical therapy after losing his limbs. But now that he’s older? Now that he’s left the safety of Resembol and has taken you with him, he’s watched how you’ve changed for the world. You hide behind him in crowds. You refer to him or Al to answer all the questions thrown your way. You don’t enjoy being the center of attention- not even with people you’re familiar with.

And yet, you don’t shy away from his touch. You still lay your head on his chest. You still tangle your legs between his as you lie on his bed together. You still allow his arm to wrap around you with a grip that is far too selfish than he knows he should be allowed to have. And you still listen to him read to you. You still listen to him talk to you. About what he’s working on. About what he’s learning. About his thoughts. About his worries. About everything. You just…can’t ask him questions. And you can’t respond to any of his questions. And you can’t make comments of your own.

Still, you smile at him.

He doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t even think he deserves this. Your kindness. Your touch. Your attention. Your love. Your affection. Your smiles.

And yet, you give them to him anyway. Because that’s all you have left to give. Because that’s who you want to give it to. And he’d be damned if he didn’t give in to you after everything he put you through. You deserve more than what he has to offer, though. You deserve more than just this.

But he’s working on it.

He’s not there yet. He’s not able to right his wrongs just yet. But he’s working on it. He’s going to fix things. He’s going to find a cure. A solution. A miracle. And he’s going to do it for the people he loves most of all. The people whom he roped into his mess. The people he has left to protect. But in the meantime?

He’ll keep holding you to his chest as he talks enough to fill the silence for both of you. He’ll keep you close and comfortable and safe as he drones on about problems and readings that he knows will bore you right to sleep just because he can. He’ll keep looking out for you- he’ll keep protecting you, and he’ll keep fighting for you because you deserve that much and more.

And he’ll keep cherishing your smiles. Because after all you went through…because after all he put you through, you still smile. You still smile for him. You still seek him out. You still hold him. And he’d be damned if he didn’t start cherishing all that you are and all you do for him. Because he already made that mistake once. And he can’t afford to make the same mistake twice.

Especially not with you.

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manias-wordcount · 12 days ago

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Spike Spiegel

stealing his warmth on a cold day

pretty please

To Keep Warm (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗰𝗵𝘂 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson @skylardarling @sachimz @roronoaism @itzmymelody @myfangirlfanfiction @24hour-xixi

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The Bebop is old. Really, really old. So, to Spike, it’s no surprise when something on the ship breaks.

It’s annoying to him, sure. Nobody likes having a bunch of broken shit around. But most of the time, it’s something small. A door doesn’t open as smoothly as it used to. Lights burning out at a faster rate. Things like that. Things that were simply just falling victim to the wear and tear of everyday life. Other times, the damage will be a little bit more severe- and a little harder to ignore. That only happens when the Bebop gets caught up in some mess the ship had no business being in. Too close to a fight. Too close to someone else’s fight. Or just bad drivers, all around.

Even so, it’s nothing the crew can’t handle. Sure, the time one of the engines failed was pretty expensive. And the time another ship swiped the side of the Bebop so badly that a whole wing of the ship was out of commission until they got repairs was also pretty bad (at least someone else paid for the repairs that time). But the Bebop and this crew have been through a lot. So a little something broken wouldn’t be the end of things. They’ve all lived in far less glamorous conditions to care so hard about something that needed to be “fixed” (or rather, ignored until it was too inconvenient to live with or finally convenient enough to get fixed).

At least, that’s what he believed…until the heat on the ship broke.

It was sudden. He doesn’t even believe he realized that the ship was missing one less ambient humming noise before he found himself unrolling his sleeves and crossing his arms across his chest in an attempt to keep out the sudden chill that was causing the hair on his arms to raise. But when he noticed that you, too, were starting to curl into yourself as you sat next to him on the couch, he figured someone was up.

And when he heard Jet cursing the Bebop in some other part of the ship through the vents, he knew it was more than just a passing chill. There were no fresh breezes when you’re floating out of the middle of space anymore. So that could only mean one thing: something very important must have just broken or run out of juice.

Because the temperature was starting to drop. And it was starting to drop fast.

It didn’t take long for everyone to go looking for the problem. Because, as it turns out, the crew wasn’t as tough as Spike thought they were. That much was known the moment he and the others were found crowding around some random electric panel in a mostly unexplored (by everyone except for Jet, of course) part of the ship, chattering their teeth off and rubbing at their arms. But it was especially made clear by the shared looks of horror when the second Jet realized he couldn’t fix it. Not on his own. And not even with Ed’s help.

With that revelation, Faye was the first to leave. She was complaining and stomping her feet the entire way away as she shouted something about going back to her room and not coming out until this thing becomes “a proper place to live in.” Ed went not too long afterwards. Once the little girl realized that there wasn’t much she could do or play around with, she started to get bored with standing around and waiting for things to get entertaining.

Sometime after that, you had left, too. Scooping up Ein in your arms and holding him close to your chest as you murmured something soft about finding someplace warm, as the dog continued to cuddle into you. When that happened, Spike could only nod absently as he continued to bicker with Jet about being stuck on flashlight duty while Jet continued to insist that he could do something to “at least make things a little better.” Whatever that was supposed to mean.

And of course, offer his bed up for you two to share in order to keep warm.

But one painful hour later, after the cold had started to make it difficult to for Spike to use his fingers and lock up the joints of Jet’s metal arm, that’s exactly where Spike found you. In his room. In his bed. Fast, fast, fast asleep under a pile of blankets as Ein curled up right by your feet beneath a towel of his own.

Most of the blankets were yours. He’s gotten a few over the years as a consequence of sometimes having to sleep in odd places. But you? You like to be comfortable. You liked to be warm. So he could pick out what came from his storage pile and what came from your room very easily. The soft fabrics and the bright colors of your blankets drowned out the thin, neutral colors of his own. Still, looking at you now, he realizes something else.

You must have been colder than he originally thought. Even from the doorway- even from the moment he stepped through into his room and closed the door, he could still see you shivering. Your eyes are closed. Your lips are parted to let soft breaths through. But your eyebrows are furrowed, and you’re curled up almost as small as you can be in your sleep. It’s not enough for you. These blankets are enough for you. Holding yourself close isn’t enough for you. Not when you’re indoors and he can still see your every breath come from your mouth as a wispy cloud.

Now, Spike isn’t stupid. He’s a lot of things, but he isn’t stupid. So, of course, he wasn’t going to waste this chance. Not when you’re right there. Not when it’s you.

Not when you need him right now just as much as he wants- just as much as he needs you too.

So he didn’t waste any more time standing around in the cold. He didn’t bother shedding his suit or changing into something cleaner or more comfortable. No, the second he could- he was in his bed, underneath the big pile of blankets you had brought in and reaching for you. Reaching for the other warm body that could keep him from freezing during this trying time.

Reaching for the body he always wanted to feel against his.

His arms find your waist in seconds, and he tugs you against him the moment he could. His fingers brush against your bare skin for a moment, and you make a soft sound of protest at the sudden, foreign coldness you have just felt. Something akin to a whine. Something that makes his heart ache in ways he knows shouldn’t be possible. But you don’t push him away or whine any further. Instead, your arms wrap around his body, and your legs tangle into his as you press your face to his chest and continue to doze off.

Ein gets upset with all the moving around. The dog perks up and lets out a disgruntled sound as its legs brush and move around, but Spike's bed isn’t the biggest. There’s enough room for the three of you, but Spike had to move piles and piles of blankets just to reach you. Just to make contact. But he doesn’t care about some mutt. He can’t care about the dog. Not right now. Not while you’re tucking yourself underneath his chest and grabbing onto the fabric of his clothes in your sleep. Not when you’re allowing him to press your body into his with a sense of greed and selfishness that he just can’t find himself being ashamed about right now.

Not when right before his very eyes, you stop shivering and start smiling. Softly. Sweetly. Like this was always meant to be.

And so, for once…he finds that he doesn’t mind the fact that something is broken on the ship. Sure, he knows a problem like this is probably going to wipe out what little savings the team has at the moment. And he knows the moment he has to crawl from under the covers to use the bathroom or grab food or do anything, he’ll regret that feeling. He’ll want the heat back on. He’ll want to keep feeling his fingers and toes if he ever has to come out from all the blankets. And he’ll want to exist in a world where he doesn’t have to be sweating underneath this heavy pile of blankets, just to be comfortable.

But for now, he doesn’t want any of that. He just wants this. He just wants you.

He just wants to hold you while you sleep. He wants to keep you warm while you press against him. He wants to keep you safe and happy, and just like this, for as long as he can. For as long as he’s able. For as long as fate allows it.

Because he can worry about toughing things out later. He can worry about repairs later. He can worry about the whole world and every little thing in it later. He can. And he will. He will. When the time is right, of course. Because right now? He’d rather just stay here in your arms and in his bed. Underneath piles and piles of blankets, as he breathes in your scent and steals your warmth. Only for you to steal it right back from him and take it for yourself. But that’s okay. That’s what he wants, anyway. Because you need him. And he needs you, far more than he wants to admit.

And because he’d do anything to make you happy. Anything to make you comfortable. Anything.

So long as he's allowed to be selfish too.

#spike #spike x reaader #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop x reader #cowboy bebop fanfic #cowboy bebop fanfiction #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

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manias-wordcount · 14 days ago

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Hiii I just wanted to say that you're a great writer and i love the way you write L 😞

—☕

THANK YOUUUU heheheh :)

#manias shitposts

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manias-wordcount · 15 days ago

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Hi can I request a Rei Suwa x female reader x Kazuki Kurusu (that there is a strange sexual tension between them with the reader), the reader is her coworker and roommate, I don't really have a specific theme in mind you can do whatever you want I just ask that it has a lot of fluff, Family time with Miri, and smut

Roommate Situation HCs (Rei Suwa & Kazuki Kurusu)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗶, 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗳 ~𝟮𝗸 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗰𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗸𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗱! 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Miri really likes you, your schedule is different from theirs, and you’re a pretty girl

So having you around has always been a good thing since you can babysit miri when school is out and they’re not around (plus, it’s always nice to have another set of hands that is willinging to help in with household duties)

…except when it isn’t LOL

The attraction between the three of you was almost instant but it was also a bit of an instant problem

Like, how do you explain to a little girl that her two daddies are in competition with each other over the build-in, sometimes babysitter girl they all live with???

And how do explain all that to a little girl in a way that ensure she doesn’t go blabbing about it at school and may everyone worried for her safety and her parents sanity

Luckily, Miri doesn’t notice all the looks her dads give you whenever you’re wearing something that flatters your figure

And she doesn’t understand all the innuendos her dad throw at you, even while you’re playing games in the living room

And somehow she hasn’t noticed that some nights, both her dads will disappear from their respectively bedroom and just magically find their ways into yours

But hey! What Miri doesn’t know won’t, hurt her (or spread like a wildfire LOL)

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manias-wordcount · 18 days ago

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your spike fics have my entire heart omg… 🫶 could you maybe write one where the bounty they’re chasing ends up being someone of the reader’s past? was it a person reader likes and they try to negotiate not turning them in or a terrible one with bad memories tied to them? how would he react too? 🤭

Look Out (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗮! 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗶𝘁/𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻. 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗶𝗺𝗼, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀 𝘂𝗽!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Hands down, you’ve always been Spike’s favorite member of the crew.

For starters, you bring a lot to the table. You fly a fast ship, you shoot almost as straight as he does, and you hold your own like it’s nobody’s business. He doesn’t have to worry about you dragging down the team or being dead weight. He doesn’t have to worry about you getting lost or hurt when you’re away from the team. In fact, most of the time, he finds that he doesn’t have to worry about you at all.

Because you’re not another mouth to feed. You’re the reason why they even have food to bring home sometimes. You’re not just the newest stray someone brought home. You’re the reason why their home hasn’t run out of gas in the middle of nowhere. You’re not just some wannabe who decided one day they were going to drop the boring life for the life of a bounty hunter. You’re the real thing. The real deal.

But even so, there’s a part of him that still worries for you. A part of him that still worries about you. You never look like you needed it, but he knows. He knows deep down inside that you do. But even if you didn’t, he still would. He would still worry. Because he can. Because you’re his favorite member of the crew. Because he likes you. And perhaps most of all?

Because you’re human. And being human means making mistakes. It means having a past. And sometimes…

“I’m- I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Spike! I didn’t mean for him to- I didn’t- I didn’t…I thought I could…”

…it means being haunted by the past you’re desperately running from.

The two of you are supposed to be chasing a bounty right now while the Bebop was stocking up and getting some repairs in. Someone local. Someone you possibly even know, considering you used to live in this city. And someone who Spike wouldn’t have even batted an eye at if it weren’t for the fact that the crew was going to be stuck here for nothing to do for a little while.

But when he asked you to join him, he noticed you seemed a little off as he told you the info he was able to gather from Big Shots. You grew quiet. A little more withdrawn. A little more timid. More so than he was used to. But he brushed it off when it happened at first. He pushed through it with you. Treated you like normal and figured all you were was just tired. Maybe in need of a good drink or two before taking flight. That always seemed to perk him up real good whenever he was feeling down himself. Yeah, that’s all you needed to turn things right around. A good drink and an easy catch.

If only he knew how wrong he was about that.

“Just come here,” He finds himself murmuring the second he’s close enough to scoop you into his arms after finally locating you. He doesn’t know what happened. The last thing he can clearly recall is chasing the sounds of running and echoes of your voice as he weaved between unfamiliar back alley streets. You must have seen the guy. That must have been why you ran ahead, gun drawn and voice angry as you chased off someone before disappearing into the dark of the night. But sometime later, Spike finds you here. “You’re okay…you’re okay. Just stay right here, okay?”

Spike finds you like this.

Blubbering with your back against some random wall as you curl up on the hard, concrete streets. Your gun is on the floor, tossed aside a good couple of feet away from where you’re existing so pitifully. Your clothes look a little rougher than they did when you first exited the Bebop this morning, but you aren’t hurt. That’s what matters most of all to him right now. The fact that you’re not hurt. The fact that even though currently disarmed and rattled beyond all belief, you’re not hurt.

But you’re hurting. And that’s what terrifies hum.

You stutter and your voice breaks every time you try to speak to him. Your words repeat, your hands shake, and tears from your eyes don’t stop flowing as you struggle to explain what happened. In all honesty, you don’t look like the reliable source of income and firepower he’s come to know you as. But right now, he doesn’t care about that. He doesn’t care about the fact that the two of you just lost out on a bounty. That was just busy work. That was just to keep himself from getting bored. No, he’s more concerned about his favorite crew member. He’s worried because he’s seeing a side of you that he thought he would never see. He’s worried because you won’t stop shaking long enough to look him in the eyes and promise him that you’re okay. He’s worried because he doesn’t know what you’ve been through. He doesn’t know how bad it was.

“…but I’m…I’m…still so scared…”

But he knows how bad a past can be.

So he holds you. It’s in the middle of the night in some city he’s unfamiliar with, and a crime rate that’s nothing to sneeze at. The two of you are only a couple of feet away from an overflowing dumpster, various dubious piles of trash, and your mostly forgotten (and most definitely loaded) gun. In the distance, there’s the sound of partying and drinking and fighting and just about everything else you can expect inside a city with an active nightlight. And above you, dim street lights flicker on and off as the only source of lighting the two of you have. It’s hardly the most comforting spot. He’s hardly the most gentle person. But it’ll have to do for now. It’ll have to do.

So he takes you in his arms in a way he thought he never would. He threads his fingers through your hair and holds you in ways he didn’t know he was capable of holding anyone in. You curl up to him instantly- like he’s someone important to you- and wrap your arms around his neck as you weep into his shoulder, like you’re someone soft and sweet and fragile. But he knows you’re not. He knows that this isn’t you.

And yet it is.

Still, he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t ask who that person was to you. He doesn’t ask what happened to you. He doesn’t ask what that person did to reduce you to what you are right now. Instead, he just holds you. And holds you and holds you and holds you. Time flies by as you sob into his embrace. He doesn’t know how long he holds you for, but it’s enough for his body to ache from disuse and his mind to start wandering and wondering about a life where things could have been different for the two of you. Better for the two of you. And yet, the entire time…he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t have to. He doesn’t need to know.

Plus, you won’t be able to tell him even if you wanted to. Not with the state that you’re currently in.

And so for now, he determines that he’s better off with all the details. If he needs to know, he’ll find out. But that won’t help you now. That won’t save you now. He doesn’t even think that he can save you. Not when he has his own past that he’s running from. Not when he’s gotten too deep with the wrong type of people as well.

But he’d be damned if he didn’t try. He owes that much to you. He owes that much to his favorite member of the crew. The person he can rely on. The person he can trust. He owes that much to you. He wants to do that for you.

Because one day, he may need this too.

One day, he may need someone to hold him, and he confronts his ghosts. One day, he may need someone to be his anchor to the present when the past tries to take hold of him and take him back. One day, he may need you.

So until then, he’ll continue to hold you for as long as you need it. Until then, he’ll continue to look out for you in the ways that only he can. Until then, he’ll continue to rely on you to be strong and look out for you when you need to be weak. And to be there for all the moments in between.

It’s not much. But it’s honest work. It’s his work. And besides, you’re family now. You’re part of the crew. And the Bebop looks out for each other. That means he looks out for you. So that one day…

“Don’t worry about that guy anymore, alright? The past can’t hurt you now. Not while I’m here.”

…you can look out for him too.

#spike #spike x reaader #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop x reader #cowboy bebop fanfic #cowboy bebop fanfiction #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

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manias-wordcount · 21 days ago

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I really love your writing!!! Its wonderful 😊👏🥺

But dear can i request something about escanor wherein its their anniversary, and both them accidentally surprised each other with cute things. Fem s/o

Thank you.

Surprising Each Other for Anniversary HCs (Escanor)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!!!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Honestly, it’s nothing crazy- but it is super, super cute

Chances are, the two of you were probably acting all nervous around each other all day, just hoping the other person would like the surprise

And both of y’alls weird behavior probably threw the other person off so the two of you just big balls of stress all day

But when it came time for the two of you to go out and do something special for your anniversary, you two were able to let the nerves melt away a little bit because you enjoy each others presence so much!

For a while, the two of you forgot about the surprises you had planned for each other and were able to just enjoy the night <3

But funnily enough, the two of you managed to remember your surprises for each other around the same time…

…and ended up presenting them to each other at the same time (kinda like those couples who propose at the same time heheheh)!!

Either way, it’s just more proof that the two of you are so like and so perfect for each other since youre both just so similar

But of course, you both love each other’s gifts and realize that you both were stressed out for nothing and come out of this complete non-issue (which was more of a very stressful hiccup than anything) stronger than ever

But with Escanor as your man, was there really any doubt? hehe

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manias-wordcount · 23 days ago

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youve been EATING up these past few requests (no crumbs left at all) omg so good thank u for feeding us

omg youre too kind heheheh THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT!!! now stop beforw i fall in love with you WAHHAABBAH

#manias shitposts

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manias-wordcount · 24 days ago

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hello hello!! I just want to say i love the way you write goro so much. The mom to be mini series is honestly one of my fav fics ever. Theres so many little details on it that could be its own story. I was just wondering if you could write about how the reader and goro got to know each other? I remember something about him being flustered and not being able to speak proper english lol. Or maybe just more domestic married life honestly ill take anything(if you can you tell that i have no idea how to req no you cant). Either way i love your stuff and please make sure to take care of yourself!!

Coffee Talk (Goro Akechi x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮𝗮 𝗶 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗰𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳-𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹 || 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || | 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝘁.𝟭 || || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 ||

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

One of the best jobs you’ve ever had was the 24/7 coffee shop just a couple of blocks away from your university.

It wasn’t too bad a walk from your classes and where you were staying. The bagels, danishes, and pastries always tasted great, and made for fantastic meal substitutes on the days when you just couldn’t bother to try to cook or find or pay for a balanced meal. Your employee discount meant that you never had to choose to go without a warm drink during the winter and a cold drink during the summer.

And your boss was understanding and kind enough to accommodate you with a schedule that worked best for you: the night shift. Where you could easily balance all your regulars (and the few who had to dash in before an important due date, just for some stable wifi) while studying or doing homework at the counter. Even during the few hours, you had some shifts where you were the only person working. Work is work, sure. But it’s hard to beat a gig that sweet. Opportunities this good don’t come by this often, after all.

Plus, it helps that it’s where you met him: Goro Akechi. The first boy to have caught your eye in a very, very long time.

But he also didn’t speak to you for a very, very long time. At least, not really. Not directly.

The first time he came in was the middle of the fall, just a little before midnight. He was there with one of your regulars, a forensic specialist from the crime center down the street. You were surprised when your regular introduced Goro to you in between placing his order. You thought for sure that the boy was your age and an intern over at the center. You’ve met a couple of people studying criminology who were lucky enough to get into the program they had over there. You thought surely, he must be part of that crowd. Even if he dressed a little too sharply compared to most college students you knew.

But as your regular guest went on his introduction and explained Goro’s background while the boy stood there and gave you a terse smile every time your eyes connected, you realized you were only partially right.

Goro was your age. But he wasn’t an intern. No, he was a detective sent over from Japan as part of some sort of expertise exchange. Apparently, he was an expert in the type of clean-up that your city needed and would be staying for a couple of years, at the very least. But he was your age. And despite the worn, almost perpetually exhausted look in his eyes that made him look far beyond his years, he seemed as fresh-faced as you did feel, now just diving into the world of your major. But apparently, he’s been doing this for years. He’s been famous for doing this for years.

That night, you made your regular two cups of black coffee to go, instead of just one. But it took nearly the whole pot you had just put on because your hands were shaking so bad at the thought of serving coffee to someone who was supposed to be a celebrity. You had spilled so much just by overfilling the cups as you tried to sneak glances at the new boy while he was conversing quietly with his coworker; you felt like it was your first day at work all over again.

Plus, it didn’t help that he was cute. Very cute. The type of cute that made you avert your eyes and gasp out quietly as your fingers brushed against yours when you tried to hand him his coffee.

The type of cute that had you memorizing the split second you got to see of his flustered expression when that happened, before he quickly dashed out of your store and quickly ducked behind your corner to sequel like a little kid discovering their first crush.

The type of cute that you has you looking him up after your shift, only to find that not only was he famous and very good at his job, millions of others your age (and older) also believed that he was cute and just couldn’t seem to act right around him.

But… he was also the type of cute that made you realize only after the fifth time he came in over two weeks with that same co-worker as always…he never spoke a word to you. Your regular would do all the talking. The ordering, the small-talk, the “thank yous.” And Goro…Goro would smile at you. A soft, pretty type of smile that seemed a little too practiced and strained to be true. And he would acknowledge your greetings or questions with just a simple nod or shake of his head. And he would bow his head a little whenever he’d take the cup from you- a gesture you’re starting to learn means thanks. But that wasn’t speaking. Not to you, at least.

That realization took the magic out of things for a while.

You had watched some of his old interviews and show appearances from back when he was still a high school student in Japan. And while you didn’t understand a word of what he said or what was going on without subtitles, you could pick up enough of his personality to understand that he wasn’t really the shy or reserved type. He seemed to hold his own easily with crowds and other notable figures. He seemed charismatic and funny and perfectly talkative when he wanted to be on those shows. And sometimes, you would even see him talking to his co-worker while you step away from the register to get started with their drinks. But he would never speak to you.

He found some way to communicate, sure. He didn’t outright ignore you, yes. But he wouldn’t speak to you. He wouldn’t say anything to you. In fact, you’re positive you’ve never heard his voice in person before.

Still, it rubbed you the wrong way. You know he must have his reasons. In fact, you hope he does. And you hope they’re good ones rather than the ones your mind keeps coming up with when the silence between the two of you becomes deafening. But it didn’t stop you from feeling insecure every time you had to watch your attempts at typical late-night barista small talk would be met with nods and shrugs, even when the question you asked didn’t really call for that type of answer.

Until that fateful day, a little under three months after you both met.

The first time you saw him come to the shop alone.

That alone surprised you. So much so that you nearly stuttered over greeting him by almost saying two names, instead of just his. After all, you figured Goro came here before only because this was where his co-worker always went to, and didn’t have any time to look for his own favorite place after moving from Japan. But then again…it wouldn’t be so surprising if he enjoyed coming here on his own. Not many places open as late as this one does- especially not on this side of those. And your boss has always made sure to buy the highest quality coffee beans and other ingredients to keep the customers flowing. And maybe…maybe this place was starting to become a source of comfort for him? Maybe the atmosphere felt familiar enough after all these visits. Maybe this was still the place he wanted to get his coffee from. Even if he didn’t want to speak to you while he got it.

But you were over all that. Sort of. Mostly. Kind of. Well…not really.

But you were over it enough to do your job and do it well without letting it bother you too much.

Besides, during those months' worth of late-night visits, you had gotten used to how things were. You’ve gotten used to navigating conversations with Goro. You’ve come to understand what some of the more subtle gestures he gave you meant. You couldn’t speak to him in a traditional way, sure. But you could get the job done just fine. And that’s all that matters at the end of the day. That you got the job done.

“Hi Goro,” You greeted him with your usual smile as you put down the homework you were working on between customers and went to meet him at the register. But as he approached, you realized he seemed a little more wound up than usual. His steps were more purposeful, and his shoulders looked tense. He was acting a bit stiff and awkward when he finally made it in front of the counter, and it was hard to ignore the slight frown and furrow to his eyebrows, and he looked at you. But you didn’t comment on it. Why should you? Knowing him, the most you’d probably get was a sheepish shrug. Plus, the most likely answer is sometimes the obvious answer: he wasn’t used to going here alone. And you doubt putting him on the spot would make things any better for either of you. “Fancy seeing you here! Want the usual ord-?”

“カフェオレをお願いします”

You’re…not sure what just happened.

And judging by the look on his face…Goro doesn’t seem to know what happened either.

Everything happened rather fast. He seemed to be in a rush to cut you off, his face glowing a light pink color at the time of him spouting off whatever he had just said to you. But by the time the phrase is out of his mouth, you’re still processing the first couple of sounds that you heard. Because while you don’t speak the language, it sounds like Japanese. It sounds like him speaking Japanese. But what to do after that, you’re not quite sure. It’s late at night, and while all the night shifts you work have you better adjusted than most people when it comes to staying out late and functioning on very few hours of sleep, you can’t really find a response. One that makes sense. One that will work. One that will break you out of this stunned state, at that.

So, instead of doing something productive, you blink at him in pure silence. With a wide-eyed, dumbfounded expression as your mind plays catch-up with the rest of you.

And Goro…blinks right back at you, also in silence. Only, his expression is colored in a different type of confusion. Because at that moment, he was just staring straight at you with his eyebrows furrowed even deeper and a frown, a little more upset than before. Almost as if he thinks he was perfectly clear with…whatever it was that he said to you. Almost as if he’s unsure why you’re having the reaction that you’re currently having. Until it hits him.

“Japanese…” You heard his pleasant-sounding voice mutter quietly in heavily accented English. You nearly gasped at the sound, now fully realizing that he’s speaking to you directly at the moment. For the very first time, after who knows how many visits at this point. But one look at the crestfallen expression on his face tells you now is not the time to be celebrating. Because just like that… “I asked you…in Japanese.”

It hits you, too.

“Oh…I didn’t even realize! Don’t worry!” You’re quick to wave him off, and suddenly, you’re feeling stupid, stupid, stupid at the sight of his beyond embarrassed expression (that you can see he’s already trying to salvage). “It’s alright, I-”

It never came to mind.

The thought of him being reluctant to speak to you because of the language barrier. It literally never crossed your mind. Sure, you saw him speak to his co-worker. But did you know for certain they were speaking English to each other? And even if they were, who’s to say he'd automatically feel comfortable doing the same to you- a complete stranger- when he has a reputation to uphold. Because if you remember correctly from the few interviews of his that you saw (okay, maybe you saw more than a few- but in your defense, who wouldn’t do the same if their cafe crush had the media presence that he did), he knows English. But whether or not he’s comfortable speaking it is a whole other story. One that you feel like you’re witnessing right now.

“I’m sorry, I just…” He says to you, a sad smile starting to grace his face before he trails off and murmurs something to himself in Japanese. Whatever he's saying to himself is harsh. You don't need to speak it to know that much- you can just tell by the way his face temporarily scrunches up in rage before his muscles relax into a shy, awkward attempt at trying to look calm and composed. “Not…not used to this…”

As he trails off again, your mind replays all that you've seen in the past few seconds. Include the range of emotion you just saw slip through the carefully crafted mask of the boy in front of you. And you have to say... all those faces? All those expressions? They look nothing like the ones you've seen on him during his past visits. Nor do they look like anything you've ever seen in one of his interviews. It's...not the look of a detective prince. It's not the look of a boy genius so good he was shipped over to another country just to save them. All of this? Every single emotion you just saw. It looked raw. Honest. Vulnerable. Human, even.

But human is good. Makes him approachable in your eyes.

“It’s okay," You say, finally, offering up the warmest, kindest smile you can offer him. It doesn't make him relax. At least, not immediately. But you don't miss the fact that the hopeful look in his eyes starts to grow when you continue to look at him with that kind expression. Admittedly, it starts to make you feel hopeful, too. After all, you spent all this time just wishing he would speak to you. Only to have him standing right in front of you, looking equally mortified and happy that you're still speaking to him. "How about we start over, alright? What can I get you, Goro?"

You never serve him black coffee after that.

You do, however, start serving him カフェオレ(or cafe au lait, you both figured out as few minutes of struggling with his little book of translations that he keeps with him at all times) at least a few times a week for the next two years. Right when he agreed to stay at your city’s crime center full time with no plans to return to Japan anytime soon. Because after that point? You start making his coffee every single morning he goes into work, not just the nights when he’s there for the graveyard shift.

He could have started going to a new coffee shop at any point. He could have started going to the one you work at on nights you weren’t there. He could have found some new girl to crush all over him and make his coffee for him. He could have. But he didn’t. It wasn’t in the cards for him. Not then. Not after two years. And certainly not now, either.

Even though you had quit your job at the coffee shop a long, long time ago, by this point.

Because he bought that fancy new coffee maker for his apartment. The one with all the buttons, features, and tools he doesn’t really quite understand. But he bought that thing for you. Or rather, right after you agreed to move in with him. So it would have been a shame if he started going somewhere else to get his coffee now. And it would have been a waste, too.

Of a fancy new coffee maker. Of two years of going to the same coffee spot just to get his fix of caffeine and you. Of several months of courting you and getting to know you. And for several weeks of building up the courage to speak to you in your own language. And still messing up when he was finally brave enough to take the chance.

But every time you look back, you’re happy you had that job. Because you probably wouldn’t have met Goro otherwise. And you’re glad he did, even though it took him forever to get there. Even though it wasn’t perfect when he tried to either.

Because without that moment? Because without all that happening? You wouldn’t have found yourself right here, in his office, messing around in not-so-appropriate ways while he’s supposed to be busy taking a work call.

“Perhaps I’ll get more time off with you on your maternity leave.”

Waiting for him to make you his lovely little Mom-To-Be.

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manias-wordcount · 27 days ago

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Its me again may i have headcanons of how Spike, Bakugo, Touya, and Link (maybe ocarina or diety link from majora) would show cuteness agression towards female reader

how they react to f readers cuteness aggression (bear hugs, biting, eskimo kisses haha) esp since reader was very shy about showing affection at first haha

Which ever is funner to you :] thank you so much !

Cuteness Aggression Towards S/o HCs (Spike Spiegel, Bakuguo Katsuki, Dabi/Touya Todoroki, Link)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗶 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗶��𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲 (𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗹) 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Spike Spiegel

He has cuteness aggression towards you

He doesn’t really show it outwardly, but the second you do something that’s a little too adorable for him?

His mind is just running wild with the fact that somehow you’re real and you’re existing like this in front of him

Seriously, he could just eat you up if he could

That said, he may do a bunch of things teasingly out of instinct to release some of the cuteness aggression

Like, he might randomly pinch your cheek or ruffle your hair really hard in an attempt to “joke around” with you

But it’s more just an excuse to touch you or get close to you after you do something he adores

Though, of course when you’re sleeping or cuddling in the same bed together? All bets are off

Except a lot of random squeezing while cuddling and him holding you tight if you ever do something super super cute

He might not express this side of himself in public, but in private there’s just no holding back hehehe

Katsuki Bakugou

You have cuteness aggression towards him

But it doesn’t really come up often, because he’s not really a “cute” guy

Like, you may squeal or hug him over him doing something sweet for you or looking super handsome

And of course he’ll “hate” that because he’s not into that soft shit, no sir

But cuteness aggression just isn’t too big of a thing in your relationship

He on the hand?

He just has affection aggression in general LOL

You look really pretty one day? He’s yelling profanities

He finds out something about your personality that he really appreciates? He’s trying to fight you or something

But hey, it comes with the territory and if you’re able to look past all the explosives, it’s easy to see how he really feels about you <3

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

He has cuteness aggression towards you

And you’ll probably never notice too

He just keeps it really, really, really well hidden

The guy spends most of his time with the underbelly of society so cute is hard to come by

So anything you do that’s particularly cute causes the Touya in him to freak the hell out because what guy doesn’t like having such a cute girlfriend

Outwardly, he’ll probably just make fun of you or ignore you completely the second something happens

Like if you’re reacting to a cute dog or ask a super innocent question, he’ll probably just send you away or call you dumb or something

But the second he’s completely alone and not around anyone (including you)

He’s clutching his chest and freaking out a little because man you make it hard for him to look tough sometimes

As much it pains him, he has a reputation to uphold (and he’ll be damned if it’s his girlfriend that does him in)

Link

He has cuteness aggression towards you (but sometimes, you have it towards him too)

After years of being a well traveled adventure, playing night, and laying all kinds of monsters, there’s nothing he appreciate more than your beauty

But you doing something super adorable? Yeah that’s a very high second best

He has a lot of control over himself so he won’t expression anything in ways that could distract you from an important task or put you in an unsafe situation

But so as long he’s free to, his first instinct is to wrap his arms around you super super tight and probably just nuzzle you or rub your cheek against his

And for you, it’s sort of the same deal

Link is more handsome and pretty than he is cute

But the occasional cute super smile or reaction from him going about his every day is enough for you to get out of your seat and dashing to him, ready to give him the biggest hug of his life

You probably have less self control than him so there’s definitely been a few times you did this while he was in the midst of swinging or sword or about to be stepping off balance

But it’s okay! Because he won’t let anything happen to you as long as he’s around to protect you smile

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manias-wordcount · 27 days ago

Note

i know, diva. i know WHAHAHA

#manias shitposts

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manias-wordcount · 1 month ago

Text

View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART TWENTY-THREE

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗸𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗛𝗔. 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗹𝗮𝘇𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘂𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗮 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲. 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 (𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗺𝗸 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶'𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲)

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𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

They came in odd shapes.

No clothes to cover them. No rules to dictate them. No rhyme or reason to make you make sense of them. Just…shapes. That was what you noticed every time you turned your head and laid your eyes on a different one with every single shift of your eyes. No matter what direction you faced, what hill you looked over, or what spot you tried to see, there was one there. One of the…workers, as Mr. Gojo called them.

Some had short, stubby legs. Some had long, dragging arms. Some were thin and lean and dangerously thin. While others were round and full and grotesquely big despite being relatively short-statured. Some had distinctive, ear-looking shapes that stood cleanly on their heads. Others looked to have something protruding from their backs. Like wings that once stood proud and tall but took a bad, bad fall one time before losing their shape almost entirely.

But they were also different colors. You spotted a few that colored almost completely in deep shades of red and yellow and green and brown. But there were a few colors that would blend into each other. A scarlet-colored stomach would blend into a knee that was black in hue. An ochre-colored head easily faded into ears that were peach and a chin that was ruby. Olive joints decorated violet limbs while fawn shoulders blended into a lilac back. Gold and chocolate and mauve patches coexisted on a body that was mostly cream in color. While crimson and silver fought against rose and azure for dominance on the body of another. And specks of lemon and russet and gray and purple and white popped up in random spots of bodies that were part pink and orange and blue.

The colors repeated often. But no colorings or patterns or even patches and splashes looked exactly the same on the bodies of the workers. There were other little details that you noticed too. A leg that dragged behind the other for one, far off to your left. A hand that was a couple sizes too big for another, not too far away on your right. A foot that was a size too small for one that was making its way toward your group from due north. A stomach that looked bloated and just about ready to explode as it dragged on the floor, barely held up the lean form of the body it belonged to.

In short…nothing looked right.

It was unlike anything you had ever seen before. Both on people and on animals. As far as you’re concerned, no textbook or documentary or photograph you have seen has ever shown you anything that looked like this. Nothing was symmetrical. Nothing was even. Nothing made sense. No two of the workers looked the exact same, yet all of them shambled forward in unison. Either humming or singing or chanting along with the same stupid song that they were going on about.

And you probably would have found it to be grotesque. You probably would have found it to be horrifying. Disgusting and morbid even. If it were for the fact that they all looked like walking, singing, shambling, life-sized gummy bears.

Gummy bears that looked a little (or rather, more than a little) melted, but gummy bears nonetheless.

“These…are Cursed Candied Corpses!” Mr. Gojo announced after a few prolonged moments of stunned silence, finally giving a name to the workers who were stumbling over the hills and making their way closer to your group. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Mr. Gojo extending his arms with a grand flourish and a wicked grin, clearly proud to show them off. “Aren’t they just the funniest little things! They make for great company too.”

He finishes speaking with a light, charming laugh. One that you know would have a room full of girls your age just clamoring for his attention- hoping to hear the sound again. But right now? You couldn’t even entertain the thought of even giving the man a quick glance. You’re so distracted by what you see. You’re so distracted by what’s in front of you. By what’s around you and surrounding your rag-tag little group. The workers with their bodies that look thick and bright and colorful and shiny like gelatin- like actual gummy bears. The Cursed Candied Corpses, as Mr. Gojo called them.

Speaking of that, you can’t help but gulp as the name processes within you. You don’t like it. You don’t like the combination of words. You don’t like the sound. You don’t like the imagery. It makes you think of something that’s dead and dying. Something that’s dark and scary. Not bright and colorful. Not silly and fun. And not living little gummy bears, ready to work a full day's work.

But that begs another question: are they alive? Are they dead? Are they really corpses like how you know the word?

You don’t know. And even if you do- you don’t know if you would believe it. Because right now,, you can’t believe it. You can’t believe this. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. Like, what are they? An animal? A plant? Machine? Human?

You’ve been offered no explanation. You’ve been offered no context. But you know you still have a hard time believing anything you could hear that would try to explain why and how those…those things…those things that look exactly like candy are walking and singing and chanting at you. But it’s happening. It’s real. It’s right in front of you and their voices are getting louder and clearer and you just don’t understand.

And then, it’s with a start that it hits you. The reason why it took you and the others to realize that this is where the source of the voices was coming from. They moved slowly across the great candy fields and they traversed the garden. But if you looked in their direction- if you looked without really seeing them? They started to blend in with the scenery. They started to look like they could have been here the entire time as failed bushes or tree stumps. Little blemishes in the utopia you’ve been touring around for who knows how long by now.

But you would have noticed. You would have seen them. You would have detected their presence. You would have. You should have. Right?

You’re not really sure. And that makes you feel uneasy. That makes you feel scared. But you’re not really sure why.

“And of course…they’re great for the company. Never had such loyal employees. Replaced the old help and I had improved things tenfold!” Mr. Gojo pipes up again, amusement dripping throughout his voice. Though it’s the last comment- the one about replacing the old help that catches your ear. For a second, your mind goes clear enough to wonder what he meant by that. To wonder who or what the “old help” used to be. But just as quickly as that line of questioning enters your mind, it’s quickly thrown out by Mr. Gojo as he speaks up once again, bringing the focus back to what’s happening all around you. “Oh, and would you look at that- they’ve just come up with a brand new line for their song! Let’s hear it, Corpses!”

Briefly, you can’t help but wonder, just how Mr. Gojo is able to tell that they’re just about to grace the group with a new line in the song you haven’t really been listening to. But right before your very eyes, all of the Corpses in your immediate line of sight start to open their mouths big and wide. Some of them have to stretch to do so, and their bodies strain under the changes as they do so.

But their mouths- they do open. Their jaws unhinge and their lips (could you even call what you see on their faces lips?) start to part before all the mouths are open wide, wide, wide. And their voices- they come out and come out loud as the blend of voices. They have the same blend of voices that you heard before. The one that you just couldn’t understand. Only this time, their sound becomes even more haunting as you truly zero in on them and their voices and what’s happening all at the same time.

Up the pipe now there he goes

But the little boy is starting to slow

A shiver runs over your spine the second you’re reminded of Ui Ui’s presence once again. And you don’t even wait for the singing-chanting-whatever to stop before whipping around and searching around with your eyes to find where you last saw Ui Ui. But as your eyes land on the base of the pipe, you find that he’s not there. Nothing is there. Nothing but chocolate.

A spark of panic lights up inside of you, but you push it down in favor of letting your eyes follow the length of the pipe upwards, hoping to see him still there, just a little higher. And sure enough, he was there. Still trapped in the pipe with his arms pinned to his side and nowhere to turn or run to. The only difference now is that he’s higher now. Much higher now.

Before, he was only a couple inches into the pipe. Barely enough for him to be fully above the actual “chocolate” line of the river. But in the time your group was distracted, he had managed to climb- or rather, be pushed significantly higher than that as chocolate continued to fill the pipe beneath him. Now, he must be at least tens of feet above the ground. Perhaps thirty feet or so? You’re not really sure. Everything about this place feels too topsy-turvey to tell. The ceiling of this room is tall, tall, tall. But right now, Ui Ui is much closer to the ceiling than he is to any part of the ground. Not even the highest of the peaks of little hills and mountains dotted across the garden are close to him.

Luckily, the chocolate isn’t climbing any higher than his shoulders. He’s still in a tight spot but his breathing and face remain unobstructed. But he’s struggling. He’s struggling a lot. It’s harder to see him now that he’s much farther up and with all the chocolate splattered across his face. But even from this distance, you can tell that Ui Ui’s face is twisted up into a big frown as he wiggles and lurches within the pipe in big, jerky movements. But for all his struggles, he doesn’t make any real progress from what you could see. He’s still there and hasn’t even moved up an inch since you laid your eyes on him again. His arms are still pinned to his sides. And the pipe is still making that awful creaking, and groaning noise as things begin to get-

Wait.

Ui Ui hasn’t moved up at all lately. And the pipe hasn’t always been making that creaking noise, right? It sounds like it’s being put under stress. Like something is going wrong. Very, very wrong. And that’s when you notice something else. Something that makes things start to feel a little more horrifying yet again.

Is it…is it starting to swell right around where Ui Ui is?!

Pressure building, what will he do?

What would happen if the whole pipe blew?

You gasp out at the horrible imagery that shoots into your mind with the worker’s chant. Some of the others around you join in with their own sounds of concern. What’s happening now? What do the workers know? Are they really saying that the Ui Ui is stuck where he is? Did the pipe narrow in too much? Did he just lose momentum on the way up? And is the pressure really building around him? Is there really a threat of the pipe bursting and blowing up…or doing something horrible while Ui Ui is in there?

And if something did happen, would Ui Ui be okay? Would he fall? Could he even survive a fall from that height?

And then as if on queue, voices and sounds start to blend together. The rest of the adults are turning to Mr. Gojo, looking at him and raising their voices as they start to demand answers, a backup plan, an explanation, something. The children also start to raise a fuss. They turn to their chaperones for comfort and voice their fears to their respective adults. Meanwhile, the Candied Corpses (god, the name feels even worse in your opinion now that you’re thinking about Ui Ui at the same time) are still continuing to sing their song for you- voices tearing through the conversations as the fight to stay heard.

“What’s going to happen to him?!” You heard Momo cry through the chaos. The Cursed Candied Corpses sing loudly, but they pale in comparison to little Momo’s set of pipes. “Daddy, make it stop!”

“He’s doomed!” Junpei bemoans, eyes wide with a rattled expression on his face as he points at where Ui Ui is trapped. At the same time, he’s tugging on his mother’s sleeve, begging for her attention to be off of Mr. Gojo and onto him instead. “Look, look! The pipe is swelling up! Right there, see! It’s just like they said!”

“Can’t we do something?!” Yuki shouts from her father’s arms. She’s going red in the face with panic- similar to how her father’s face is starting to turn red from anger. “Please! Mr. Gojo, please!”

There’s a lot happening all at once. There’s a lot happening right now.

For starters, Ms. Todo is stomping up to Mr. Gojo, about to get into the man’s face with a wagging, jabbing finger and his loud booming voice as Yuki tries to tug him away. A couple paces behind him, Mr. Kusakabe is trying to calm his daughter down and even from here, you can see she’s just about to cry. He has to project his voice over the commotion, and you’re able to hear him bargain a brand new pony and a few new pet bunny rabbits in exchange for her to cease her crying. If you were so personally worked up over everything that's happening right now, you’re sure you would start to feel jealous. And then laugh. And then jealous again.

While this is all happening, Ms. Nagi sweeps Junpei further up into her arms. He’s looking less and less like the little boy that was antagonizing Mr. Gojo with every second that passes. Because now, the boy is holding his mother as tightly as she’s holding him as he continues to keep his eyes glued to Ui Ui’s pipe, just waiting for something- anything to happen.

At the same time, Yuuta is pressed close to you. Right into your side. You’re not looking at his face, but his hand is still wrapped around yours and you can feel it shake with every unsteady breath he takes. But your brother isn’t the only one reduced to silence.

This entire time you haven’t seen Ms. Mei speak a word. It’s obvious she's calm and collected and type. The type to keep walls up and things are hidden because it makes you stronger and more respected in some ways. You’ve pegged her as that way early on in the tour. Pretty much anyone could. But as you turn to look at her now, you see the little pieces left of her composure that she still has. And you see it start to break as she looks past Mr. Gojo with a wide-eyed, vacant stare. Her breathing is now deep and labored. Like second is a struggle to get through. You can see it with every dramatic rise and fall of her chest as she keeps her hands folded over the fold with grips so tight into her clothes you’re surprised she hasn’t ripped into them yet.

But it makes things very clear. Her charge was out of the frying pan and knee-deep into the fire. Ms. Mei has started to show fear. The coolest one out of the entire group has become rattled.

And that’s when you start to panic. That’s when you start to panic hard. That’s when you start to panic again.

It's just like watching Ui Ui fall into the river and take forever to surface. It's just like watching him struggle against the suction power of the pipe only to be sucked under the chocolate river's surface for far, far too long. This feeling. It's the same as those moments. The tightness of your chest and something grabs hold of your heart and squeezes it. Your throat feels tight like there's a lump setting in there. Your skin feels clammy and sweat is building on your neck. You feel the need to run away. There are tears building at the corner of your eyes. Your thoughts move too fast and yet you can't seem to sort through anything your own mind is thinking except for desperate pleas and prayers for Ui Ui's safety. Whatever it looks like.

But is safety really safe? At this point, you feel off balance. Like a hair trigger is all it takes for you to explode. But then your stomach twists into knots at the word 'explosion.' Circles. You’re going in circles right now. You feel better, you have hope. But then something happens and you feel bad. And then bad turns worse the more you stand there. And the more you stand there, the more you think about it. The more you think about how you’re doing nothing right now. The more you think about how you’re just watching- watching as a little boy gets tossed around and put into one dangerous situation from the next. The more you think about how your only solace is the fact that the little boy whose life is at risk right now is a complete stranger to you. Someone who isn’t your brother. Someone who isn’t family. But that doesn’t change the fact that you could all too easily imagine your brother going through something so horrible. And that doesn’t change the fact that the more you stand here, lungs working overtime and chest feeling tight you start to feel like this is what it must have been like. This is what it must have been like trying to slog through the oppressive weight of the chocolate as you desperately try to keep your head afloat and your thoughts in order. But there’s no end or saving grace in sight. Every lifeline thrown to you feels like you’ve just walked into deeper shit and there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nothing you can do about it so you do nothing about it. You do nothing but beg for answers. You do nothing but hope and pray. You do nothing but try to imagine it all ending up okay but you can’t because nothing ends up okay just by doing nothing. But you can’t do anything here. You can’t do anything right. Have you ever tried to save him? Have you done anything more than just open your mouth? Have you done anything more than just stand there and be scared? Have you? Could you? Would you? Would you be able to save him? Would you be willing to put your life on the line? You didn’t. You didn’t do anything of the sort. You didn’t even try. So how dare you. How dare you stand here and continue to do nothing but stare. How dare you stand here and do nothing but panic and panic and panic when a real life is at stake here. You shouldn’t be feeling sorry for yourself. You should be doing something. You should be trying to save him. You all should. You all should but you’re not. Why aren’t you moving? Why aren’t you throwing out ideas? Why aren’t you begging the workers to do something? Why aren’t you offering words of encouragement to Ms. Mei and Ui Ui? Why are you just standing here? Why are you just watching him? Why are you just standing here and watching him like this? Why are you just standing here, watching him, and letting him di-

“Hey, look at me.”

Just then, Mr. Gojo’s voice and face appear right before you. Just mere inches away.

You suck in a deep breath as your eyes go wide with surprise at his sudden appearance. His snow-white hair sticks up in messy angles. His lips are tugged into a slight frown. His sunglasses are off and you swear this must be the first time you or anyone in this group have been able to see his eyes completely unobstructed. They’re ridiculously pretty, you realize. You knew it before, but you feel like you really know it now because wow. They’re bright and stunningly blue as they look deep inside of you with irises full of concern. Did you notice that his eyelashes were white too, before all this? You don’t think you did. You would have been too floored by his beauty to even know his name if you had noticed.

But as nice of a distraction as his ethereal attractiveness is, your mind is still reeling with your thoughts from earlier. When did he get here? Where was he last standing? Why is he paying attention to you and not Ui Ui or Ms. Mei? The people who actually need him right now. The people who actually deserve him, right now. You don’t know. You don’t know the word is still moving too fast and your mind is still moving too much. Why are you freaking out so much? It’s not your brother who is in there. Your brother is right here. Right by your side. Safe and sound, like you should be. But that’s the thing. That’s the problem. That could have just as easily been your brother if he wasn’t careful. That could have been you if you weren’t careful.

But all it takes is one accident. One trip. One fall. One push or shove. One wrong step and that could have been anyone.

That could have been Yuuta. That could have been you.

You swallow thickly, like forcing syrup down your throat. Mr. Gojo noticed. You know he did. That’s why he said what he said next, after all.

“Everything is going to be alright. Nothing will hurt you. And no one else is going to get hurt either, okay?” He murmurs the promise to you. He’s close. He’s really, really close. He has to tilt his head down and bend a little just to talk to you this way. And his words come out right beside your ear in a voice that makes you shiver. Especially as he stresses the word ‘you’ so earnestly that you want to believe him. You really, really do. But you’re still scared. You’re terrified. Ui Ui. The river. The workers. It’s too much for you. “But you have to relax for me. Can you do that for me?”

For a guy who is supposed to be a recluse, he’s very good at comforting people. He’s very good at comforting you. In this state, you’re not so easy to sway- despite yourself wishing with all your heart that you could just calm down and be useful. But it doesn’t work that way. It never works that way. And so when you don’t respond right away, Mr. Gojo sets his lips in a firm line and lets out a sigh. It’s an exhausted sound. One that has you instantly feeling bad about being another thing to take care of right now.

But his expression when he goes and tries to meet your eyes for a second is made of guilt. You don’t know why he would look at you like that. You shouldn’t even be his priority right now. Much less, one of his concerns. But the guilt in his eyes is haunting. So much so that you find that you can’t look at him for very long before backing away. But that only seems to make things worse for him. That only serves to make him more upset. But not at you, surprisingly (or unsurprisingly, at this point) enough. But rather, himself.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry I let things get this far. I didn’t know…” He tells you softly. The part of you that’s rational- the part of you that’s currently being hidden under the heavy weight of an anxiety attack wants to ask him what he means by that. How much control has he had over this situation? Could he have moved faster? Could Ui Ui be safe by now? “I didn’t think…”

He tries to meet your eyes but you don’t have the energy to hold his stare for longer than a second. He sighs again, his hand coming up to cover his eyes in exhaustion. Still, his expression and tone of voice is still gentle when he addresses you. He doesn’t pull or prod or poke too hard. You’ve never been like this before. You’ve never really experienced anything like this before. But something tells you that you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he did start to pull or prod or poke at you. You’re not in the right state for any teasing. And you’re just glad he noticed that too.

But he’s not done with you just yet.

“None of that matters now, though.” Mr. Gojo says, his voice firmer than it was before. He says it so confidently. He says it like he believes it- like he knows it to be true. And you know it’s dumb, but for a second it makes you want to place you want to believe in it too. This is his place after all. He’s the one in control. If anyone has the reins, it’s him. If anyone can reign things in, it’s him. So is there is anyone for you to listen to right now? No matter how stupid or pointless or scary the idea feels right now? “Just look.”

It’s him.

So you place your trust in him. It’s all you can do. It’s all you can really afford to do. Unless you want to keep hiding. Unless you want to keep panicking and feeling like you can’t breathe. But you don’t want that anymore. You don’t. So you listen to him. You believe in him. You trust in him. And you do it.

You look. You look up. You look where he's pointing. You look at where he’s directing his gaze.

You look in the direction where everyone else is currently looking in.

There's nothing left but to go all in

No need to alert the next of kin!

And you see.

It’s like everything. Every little problem you’ve witnessed here today. It happens so fast. But it happens so slowly too. So fast that you don’t even get to process what you see until it’s done and over with. But so slow that every single detail can be replayed in your mind over and over and over again.

The groaning and hissing of the pipe as it continues to be put under stress. The muffled cries of Ui Ui as he begs for someone to save him. The ripples of the chocolate as it bubbles up and continues to be vacuumed up into a pipe that just can’t handle it. The shouts of the children in distress. The yells of adults filled with fury. The voices of the workers- the Cursed Candy Corpses- as they crowd in from all sides and everywhere and sing their horrible, horrible, horrible song to your group with voices that work too well to be true and yet not at all at the same time. And then suddenly…and then finally…

A small leak appears at the base of the pipe. Right between two joints.

The hole it’s sprouting from must not be that big. The size must be no different than the faucet of the kitchen sink you have at home. But there’s so much chocolate trying to fit through the pipe that it spills through fast. It shoots out like a rocket- spitting chocolate back into the river that it came from. And it should have been inconsequential. It shouldn’t have made much of a difference. Looked like it needed nothing more than a piece of duct tape over it. At least, you know your cheapskate of a boss would believe that. But that leak does something important. Something you didn’t expect.

It changes some of the pressure within the pipe. It stops the groaning. It stops the hissing. And somehow?

So suck in your gut and you will see

What happens to greedy boys who are too hungry!

It allows Ui Ui to shoot right up the pipe and disappear before your very eyes once again.

22 notes · View notes

manias-wordcount · 1 month ago

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H!! I hope you're doing well! I was wondering if you could do a Gojo Satoru x female reader, where they're already married and have a Son , and their son asks them what they were doing because he heard strange noises from their room last night, and the reader felt embarrassed or something, thank you!

Awkward Explanations to Kid HCs (Satoru Gojo)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Let’s get thing one thing straight: the question isn’t really embarrassing for him (for you, 100% you’re hiding your face rn), it’s just unexpected and very unfortunate

After all, he’s a teacher (not the very best one, but still) he’s dealt with embarrassing before and arguably teenagers are hell of a lot worse

And he knows how to handle questions like this, even if they are way less than ideal

Still, Satoru can’t helo but be a little sheepish with all the glares you keep sending his way as you son continues to pester you both about “the monster daddy was fighting with mommy on the bed!”

After all…it was kinda his fault

He was the one to encourage to you to be as loud as you could (and he was the one who insisted you two buy the bed that you did)

Blame it on the heat of the moment lol

In the end, it takes Satoru taking you into his arms and doing damage control by spinning up some wild tale about how there was a cursed spirit trying to possess the bed and take you away while you were sleeping

And luckily, because Satoru is such a great storyteller to your very gullible child (and you’re hiding your mortified expression as the story becomes dumber and dumber) you son believes it pretty easily so crisis averted

Though, the two of you will have to be more careful in the future (bc who would have thought that being the strongest sorcerer didn’t automatically make you the most careful one lol)

47 notes · View notes

manias-wordcount · 1 month ago

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Hi ! Love your blog.

May I request you a sort of part 2 of Jinwoo x reader?

Maybe some angst to fluff idk, everything is up to you!

Love u and thank u ❤️

Orange-Scented Hugs (Jinwoo Sung x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗺 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗺𝘂𝗹𝘁𝗶𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗷𝗶𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝘂𝗽 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗛𝗮𝗹𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝗹 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The sound of the front door opening takes you by alert to his homecoming.

Dinner was a couple hours earlier. You spent it with Jinah, just listening to the girl rant about her studies and giving her advice about friends. After it was over, she thanked you for giving her a break from the cooking and helped you with the dishes before taking her leave and disappearing into her own room. You ended up taking refuge in Jinwoo’s room shortly afterward, too lonely to bear existing in the common rooms of your boyfriend’s apartment all alone.

And that’s where you find yourself now. Dressed in one of the spare pairs of pajamas that you leave at his place and cuddled up beneath a blanket as you sit and scroll through his computer. Wasting away hours at a time as you make your way through the small bag of oranges sitting right beside you while scrolling and scrolling and scrolling away on the internet. Just trying to find a movie, a video, an article, or game, or something that felt like it could be worth your full attention. Or at least, enough to lift your spirits.

But then you heard the front door open.

It was sudden, but it wasn’t too loud. Almost as if the person opening the door didn’t want anyone to know it was being opened. But you could hear it. You could hear it through the relatively thin walls of the apartment and recognize the sound and think about what it means. Especially now that you’ve taken a good look at the digital clock tucked away in the corner of the computer’s screen and read what it says.

11:49 PM, the time had read. When did it get so late? How did the time slip right past you? Was this really what you’ve been doing all this time? Just cook, eat, and scroll? Really? You had no idea. You’re not even sure how much time you wasted on this last part of your night alone. But…you did know one thing.

Only one person you know opens the doors to their own apartment like they’re trying not to intrude.

And it just so happens to be the very person you want to see most of all.

Your heart speeds up as a small smile grows on your face. You rise from his desk, leaving the computer on whatever page you were just last looking at, and completely ignore the growing pile of orange peels you’ve left right next to the mouse. You’ll deal with them later. You’ll clean them up later. Before he even notices. Before he even sees it. You promise. You will. You just…really…really want to see him right now.

What can you say? You missed him today. You miss him every time he has to leave for a raid or for a job or something. But today, you just really missed him. You really, really did.

Still, you try to leave him room quietly. It’s late enough that you can already feel the stillness of the night seeping through the walls and dictating the mood. If you had to guess, Jinah was either already asleep or getting the last little bit of her studying done before finally hitting the hay. You’d hate to wake her up over something so trivial.

So, you tiptoe to Jinwoo's bedroom door before opening it as quietly as you can. As you move about the room and look into the new room, your eyes have to take a minute to adjust. The only lights you had in Jinwoo’s room for the past couple of hours came from your phone or his computer. But the sight you immediately see as you look outside his room is that of a dark living room. One with very little signs of life and light, outside of the streams of moonlight peaking in through the window.

But your eyes adjusted quickly. And soon enough, you were picking up the shapes and figures and familiar features of the room in front of you in the darkness. And then, you saw it. You saw him. Jinwoo.

But, he looked different than how he did before he left.

He looked tired.

It’s the simplest way you could explain it. He looked exhausted. That’s all you could think about or call it as you stood in his doorway and examined him. Absolutely, utterly exhausted.

He was sitting hunched over on the couch with his head down and his bangs covering his expression from your view. His apartment keys and phone were by his side on the couch, but they looked to be placed (or tossed, even) there haphazardly. As if he barely could spare them a thought now that he’s here. His shoulders were slumped and his hands and arms hung limply at his sides. His shoes were still on. As were his jacket and the rest of the clothes you saw him dressed in earlier. But they looked dirtier. A bit more roughed up and worn than you remember. You swear you could even see some tears in his shirt in places that just make your heart sink.

You could only imagine what just came back from. What he has just gone through. And you know you’ll only be able to imagine it. You know you’ll never really know. You know this because he won’t tell you what happened. He just won’t. Not the full story, at least.

Because this isn’t an unfamiliar sight. This isn’t a new song and dance for you. And this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him come in like this. Quiet and tired and so defeated that he doesn’t go searching for you or the fridge or the nearest shower the minute he walks in. So whatever happened was bad. Real bad. The type of bad that you could just feel emanating off of him in waves, even though you know the danger has passed and he’s safe and sound.

The type of bad that you haven’t seen since Jinwoo started to change. Since he had gotten stronger.

But you weren’t able to just stand there and look at him like this for long. All of that happened over the span of a couple of seconds. Because all too quickly, you found Jinwoo straightening out of his position from earlier and looking up and directly at you- almost as if suddenly sensing your presence, despite your silence.

And for a moment, you catch his eyes for his expression completely falls always into something else. It’s dark in this room. There’s not a whole lot of light for you to pick apart and notice the nuances. And yet, you still manage to see it. For just a split second, you still manage to see the fatigue etched into his eyes. The weariness in his frown. And the drained way his whole body looks at it forces itself to do something- to be alert once more and to reach.

But as quickly as it came, it was gone.

His frown had turned into a soft smile. One that was warm and inviting and a little bit timid- like the boy he used to be. Like the boy he still is to you. And his eyes still looked beyond tired. But they also looked relieved. They looked a little lighter, starting from the very moment he seemed to recognize the person standing in his doorway wasn’t another just enemy or monster he had to kill. It was just you. Plain, old, simple you.

You who was just sitting idly by while he was out doing his job. Doing his duty. You who was spending your time scrolling and scrolling, looking for something to entertain you while he was busy saving the lives of his comrades and all those who would have been affected by a dungeon break in that area. You who was just mindlessly eating oranges for hours and hours- even after dinner- while he was busy fighting for his.

The very same you who is currently rushing into his awaiting arms that are now open and spread out wide- ready to give him the hug you know he so desperately needs right now.

And when Jinwoo scoops you up and places you on his lap, you think you can start to picture what happened. His hold on you is tight to the point it could almost be called suffocating, but his arms shake as they wrap around you. Every breath he takes is labored and heavy against your ear as buries his face into the side of your head. You imagine you smell like oranges. And you imagine he must take comfort in that. Anything must be better than the scent of death and destruction.

So you stay there. You stay wrapped up in his grasp as you circle your own arms around his neck and tug him close to you. Your fingers bury themselves in his hair the first chance you get and you find yourself murmuring words of encouragement as Jinwoo melts into you.

And sure, it’s not much. You wouldn’t consider this to be on par with the life-saving work that Jinwoo does every time he steps through a gate. But it’s what you can offer right now. And it’s what he needs right now. So you’re more than happy to provide.

Because you don’t have to know the whole story to know what’s going on. You don’t have to know the details to get an understanding of what just happened. Of what he just went through. You just know. You just knew. From the moment he opened the front door. From the silence that followed right afterward. And from the look on his face when he first sensed you here. You just knew.

But there are some things you just can’t fix on your own. There are some things that just can’t be fixed overnight. There are some things that can’t be fixed at all. Because they’re not broken. Because they were made to be this way.

Even still, there are ways you can help. There are ways you can make things better. Little by little. Bit by bit. And if orange-scented hugs are where you have to start, then so be it. That’s what you’ll do. That’s what you’ll do at the end of time if you have to. After all, you’re lucky enough that he made it back to you once again. Battered and bruised and a little more broken down than he was when you saw him off earlier in the day.

But back to you nonetheless. And that’s all you can ask for in his line of work.

That’s all you can ask for.

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