#[ooc] but i hope this is okay!!

[hoshiina]

pairing: narumi gen x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he's always thought that anyone would do if he just wanted to find love but he realizes you're the one he wishes for, inspired by pop song by yonezu kenshi

warnings: some profanities from narumi

wc: 1300

Narumi Gen hated a lot of things, but one of his least favourites of all time was "true love". He despised when people would describe their love for another as "true love". It couldn't possibly be that serious. Just say you loved your partner. That was probably the extent feelings got to anyways— you just so happened to like each other at the same time. To him that was plenty of a feat alone, why would you have to make it sound like more than it is? For the sake of love? Ridiculous.

To him, that was truly all love was. If there was someone who liked him when he happened to like them too, that was enough. No need for years of pining, no need to get attached to some unrequited love. All that noise about love and destiny surely wasn't all that necessary.

Now, this wasn't to say that he didn't wish to find love— because he did. Like any other person, he truly wished to be loved. It was just that what he had in mind wasn't some deep pure love that'd last forever, nor was it a promise for eternity. He just wished for a light-hearted "I love you" here and there with someone he found special.

And for that, anyone would do. He'd find someone who fancied him along the way, and hopefully he'd like them back. That was all there was to it.

This meant his plan for finding his partner was sitting around and waiting. As horribly lame as that sounded, because he was Narumi Gen, this wasn't that hopeless of a plan. So, that's what he did. He'd go around saving people and doing his duties (to the absolute bare minimum) while making sure he was constantly trending, hoping that one day, someone would like him.

Today he was standing around for a solid five extra minutes after he defeated the honju with ease, hoping the media would snap some nice pictures of him, or he'd finally charm someone this time.

"Captain, you ought to stop that," you said. "It's rather embarrassing, you look desperate now."

"Oh, would you shut up," he said. "You're ruining my good name!"

You snorted. "What good name," you scoffed.

"I'm starting to think its your fault I'm not charming anyone. Perhaps if you didn't stop me every time, someone would have found me by now," he said.

"Yeah, right. Captain Ashiro seems to be having no issues charming people and I've never seen her try to," you said.

"You little shit," he said.

"Besides they're going to be utterly disappointed if they think this is what you're like and then they find out what you're… actually like," you said, and he was starting to think you wanted him to fire you. "It's okay. Someone will see how you're actually lovely at times soon."

"What?" he asked, shocked by what you said.

"What?" you replied, confused.

"You— you said lovely," he said quietly. Suddenly he felt flustered.

"Oh," you said, looking away and avoiding eye contact. It wasn't like you didn't mean to say that, but you didn't think it was that big of a deal. Rather, how flustered he sounded took you by surprise. “Well, you’re a little lame but you’re a good guy. Like you pretend you only do it for the media, but I know you’re always checking the alleyways that don’t have as much surveillance just in case, and checking alleyways isn’t something a captain has to do. And we both know the media isn’t writing about anything you do there. Things like that.”

“You never know!” he said, and you snorted.

“Alright then,” you said. “You do you, Captain.”

“I will!” he said back, trying to sound proud.

A week had passed and here he was, doing what he always did after arriving fashionably late to the scene and taking all the kaiju out in a matter of minutes: standing around trying to look good. Because he wanted love, and anyone would do. Anyone who liked him was supposed to do.

...

And yet he wished for you.

He wished that when he woke up, the first thing he would see was you. He wished that you'd smile at him everyday with love and genuine joy the way you did to others, and he wished that you’d smile that way to him alone. He wished that after a long day, he was the one you came home to. He wished from the bottom of his heart that you would always be safe and no harm would ever come your way. He wished that your days were filled with laughter and smiles and he knew he would risk his life to protect that.

It was so unlike him in a way he absolutely hated. True love was supposed to be nonsense and someone being ‘the one’ was supposed to be some dramatic line in a movie. It upset him, that he was so utterly fond of you. Yet, no matter how much it upset him, it didn't change the fact that he was, and he couldn't deny it anymore after trying to ignore it for the full week.

So here he was, acting stupid again, hoping that you’d scold him again or tell him he’s embarrassing himself, because that’s what it’s come down to. He just wanted another reason to talk to you.

But you wouldn’t come to stop him after 10 whole minutes.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” he asked, irritated.

“Pardon?” you asked, utterly confused.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop?” he asked again. He was aware how silly he sounded, but he was pissed off that you meant so much to him so he had to take it out on you.

“Because you told me to stop last time??” you replied. “I thought you were going to keep this up until you found yourself a partner.”

“You’re the one who told me to find someone that saw how I was…. lovely…. at times,” he said, but said the lovely very quietly. Remembering that you had described him as lovely made his cheeks burn and he’d rather die than let you see that.

“I mean, yeah. I do think you should,” you said.

“Don’t you notice, though?” he asked quietly, avoiding eye contact. There was a moment of silence.

“I do,” you said, and immediately he looked up to face you. You had a grin on your face and you looked so proud— you looked like you had won a game. Oh, how he hated you.

“You’re so annoying,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Rich coming from you,” you said.

“So, do you—,” he started to yell before cutting himself off. Carefully, he tried again. “Would you please… uh… be mine…?”

Oh, this is so embarrassing, he thought. Perhaps you’d laugh at him, but he wanted to do this properly, or at the very least try to. He’d be far more than just stupid to mess this up now. He was finally in love.

But your laughter never came. When he looked up your eyes were wide and you looked so flustered, but soon you had the most beautiful smile on your face.

“I would absolutely love to,” you said.

So he kissed you right then and there, because there was nothing he wanted to do more at the moment.

He laughed a little.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“No, nothing,” he said.

There was no way just anyone would do— it had to be you.

[noornight]

TW: blood!!

I like his red eyes

[selfinserttothestars]

I always kinda thought that Deuce was the type to very casually put an arm around someone while talking

And that Ace isn’t (bc he’s too guarded but I digress)

@ramshacklerumble hi I had the urge to draw Gia again I hope you don’t mind

[vallcro]

I Decided I’m Going To Post About Daisuke And Swansea Rather People Dislike It Or Not !!

So Anyway:

I Think Daisuke Has Daddy Issues™ And Develops A Little Crush On Swansea Bc The Older Man Triggers All Those Daddy Issues In All The Right Ways

I Think He Wouldn’t Act On It At First And Try Really Hard To Pretend Not To Get Flustered And Blushy Whenever He Talks To Him

Daisuke Thinks Everything’s Going Great Until Swansea Asks Him Why He’s Been Acting Dumber Than Usual And When Daisuke Breaks And Tells Him Everything Swanseas Just Like “WTF Is Wrong With This Kid” And Goes On A Rant About Their Age Gap And How There’s Much Better Looking Men On The Ship If He Wanted To Get Laid That Bad But Daisuke Insist He Wants Him And Nobody Else

And Then They Kiss And Hold Hands And Be Boyfriends And Stuff

[harbingersglory]

i know i said more dom!reader blah blah blah sorry arlecchino rotted my brain severely. tmasc bunny!arle giving me severe brain damage /pos

(he/him prns used for arle)

at a glance, the big ears and small puffball of a tail might temporarily make you think Arlecchino is far sweeter then he actually is. how could anyone who looked so cute be anything but, right?

but you know better. you serve under Lord Arlecchino - literally. tucked under his desk while he makes you slobber and choke all over his strap. you barely get to breathe with his hand fisted in your hair, keeping you right where he wants you. if you've been particularly exemplary on your little missions, he might even let you sit on his lap. though whether thats worse or not is debatable, making you cockwarm him as he works. and you'd better keep quiet, too. he's not above muzzling you or just straight up shoving his fingers into your mouth to silence you while you squirm on his lap.

maybe if you last until he's done he'll fuck you properly. bend you over his desk and pound your pretty little holes until you're unable to stand. he'll still make you clean up his strap afterwards, of course.

it's when he's in a bad mood that he really gets going. sheds the act of polite, dignified little bunny. no, he's here to break you in and use you like the little toy you are. and you'll let him, won't you? drooling all over his strap when he fucks your throat raw, drags you into the nearest room the moment he sees you to watch your eyes roll back into your head as his cock stretches you out..

he's just as much of a mess as you are when he's this pent up, though. he doesn't bother keeping up appearances when he just has some pent up stress to get out. if you could even think straight you'd notice his puffball of a tail wagging and his ears drooping as he ruts into you, panting and grunting against your ear when you cum around his strap for the tenth time. you could almost swear you heard him whimper, but you'll be in a world of punishment if you mention it the next day (he absolutely did).

[rafyki]

[Valgrace fanfic]

First Valgrace fanfic!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Inspired by @neo-kid-funk's beautiful art and by our constant talking about angsty Leo finding comfort in Jason's arms :')

So, here it is!! Hope you like it~

You can also read it on AO3!

~~~~

If you asked anyone, they would probably say that Leo is loud and talkative, sometimes too silly and unserious, and most of the times a little annoying too.

Anyone else might get offended by something like this, but truth be told, Leo is fine with it - more than fine, actually, he likes it. He has worked hard to craft such an image for himself, after all, to make so that the people around him would see him like the funny friend who always makes jokes even in the most dire situations, the one friend who you could always count on to make you laugh.

It feels safe, being perceived like this. An easy way to hide.

Leo has learned during the year, that if you are annoying enough almost no one would bother to check if your smile is an honest one or not; almost no one would care enough to dig and find out what is hidden under it.

It hurt at first. 

Leo has smiled and laughed and made jokes while screaming inside fake, fake, fake, how can you not see it's all fake! ; holding his tears until he was alone, letting it all out only in the safety of an empty room.

It has gotten easier, with time, so much that sometimes he isn’t sure himself how much of his smile is true or fake, how much of his personality is honest and how much is just his carefully crafted mask.

Maybe he is too good at building things, and that is why no one has been able to see the cracks all over his bubbly and annoying armor.

It’s easier, thinking like this rather than thinking that perhaps, simply no one cares enough to take a closer look.

And so he smiles, he cracks jokes, and he laughs. 

And no one notices when his smile turns forced, or when the light in his eyes dims and his stare gets lost far away for a long moment.

Leo is good at pretending, and so no one notices.

He wonders now if, perhaps, he has been so busy building his armor and thinking that no one would ever bother to see past it that he himself failed to look around and check if, after all, at some point, someone arrived that has been watching more closely than he believed.

It feels weird, raising his eyes after a moment of weakness and meeting Jason's concerned ones. 

“Leo, are you okay?”

The first time it happens, it takes Leo a long moment to really register Jason's words. They sound foreign, like they shouldn't be directed at him.

“Huh, yeah, man, sure I'm okay!”

Smile, fake, pretend. He could feel something cracking underneath. And, judging by the look in Jason's eyes, perhaps he heard that too.

Jason notices. Jason looks more closely. Jason cares enough to do so. 

It is subtle, at first. Subtle to anyone else's eyes, at least, but it still feels huge to Leo.

It is a simple ‘are you alright?’ when Leo gets too lost in his own head, a concerned look thrown his way when no one else seems to notice that there is something wrong with him, a shoulder bumping into his in support.

It is little, but it is there.

It is there when Leo doesn’t know he needs it, in those moments he is so used to hiding alone somewhere and just dealing with whatever it is that was pulling him down - Jason is there and, honestly, Leo doesn’t know what to do with that realization.

Sometimes Leo needs to hide, sometimes he can’t bring himself to crack a joke and force a smile and keep the facade up, and the only thing he can do is hide.

“Are you okay?”, Jason asks, because of course he does, he always does.

Leo nods, wears his signature smile and waves a hand to dismiss the question. 

“Sure am”, he says. “I just need to go to the engine room and check some things - Festus doesn't sound too good right now”.

That's his best excuse when they're on the Argo II; no one can say anything to that, because no one understands, and it's his work to check that everything is perfect with the ship. So they don't bother him, they let him go. Easily, always so easily dismissed.

“Do you want some company?”

Leo feels a little unstable on his feet. This isn't how it's supposed to go - Jason should wave him goodbye and let him go, and then Leo could hide in his safe space and just let the mask fall for a little while.

He really doesn't have the strength to keep it up right now, it's starting to feel a little too heavy.

“Huh, you'll get bored, man”, he replies. “I'm not really all that entertaining while I work”.

Jason shrugs.

“I'm just going to keep you company, you can do your work as you always do”.

It's hard, being on the Argo. For the obvious reasons (quest to save the world, constant monsters attacks), and also for the ‘only related to Leo' issues; it's hard not to feel alone, it's hard not to feel like you could easily be replaced, like no one would even notice you're gone if you threw yourself overboard. It feels unfair, thinking of his friends like that, but the knowledge doesn't make it easier to keep the thoughts away.

It's never been easy to feel like he really belongs. He's not sure anymore he knows what it means, and he's not sure if he'll ever find out.

Jason is looking at him, and Leo wonders how many of the cracks in his armor he can see.

Leo doesn't want company.

Leo desperately needs company.

He's so used to being alone in moments like this he's not sure what he wants anymore.

But Jason is there.

And Leo nods.

Jason isn't the first one to ask, of course. But he is the first one who doesn't seem to believe Leo when he nods and replies that yeah, of course he's okay why wouldn't he be; he's the first one who seem to realize that the smile carefully plastered on Leo's lips is as fake as the belief that the Greek gods have never existed. He's the first one to take a second, closer look, and he's the first one who keeps asking.

And Leo, well, Leo is getting used to it. And maybe he likes it a little too much.

He shouldn't, knows he shouldn't, knows Jason is just that kind with everyone, that he cares for everyone, that the way he cares for Leo is no different from how he cares for any of his other friends.

He knows.

It doesn't really make it any easier.

Jason asks and, usually, Leo lies.

The lies always feel familiar on Leo's tongue, so much that he's not sure he would be able to be honest even if he wanted to.

It's so much easier to laugh it away and pretend it's nothing, rather than trying to explain to someone everything that's wrong with you. What even is wrong with him? It's been so long he doesn't even know anymore. He wouldn't know where to start in telling anyone (in telling Jason, because there's really no one else. He can be that honest with himself, at least).

So, Jason asks, and Leo smiles, and lies.

And Jason doesn't believe him.

Leo starts to lean on it. To lean on the soft words of concern, on the feeling of a solid shoulder pressed against his, on the comfort of a pair of blue eyes looking concerned at him.

He’s not sure when, but at some point lying to Jason starts to feel wrong.

It takes Leo a while to recognize the feeling - he hasn’t been feeling like this for a long while, he’s pretty sure the last person who has ever made him feel this way is his mother; it feels so weird now, but Leo finds himself wanting to be honest.

“Ehi”, Jason says. “Are you okay?”

It’s become such a familiar question now, as long as it’s coming from Jason’s lips, accompanied with Jason’s thoughtful eyes scrutinizing him. 

“Yeah, sure”. It’s a reflex, replying like this. Leo regrets the words as soon as he’s done speaking them.

They’re sitting near the canoe lake, and the Camp it’s weirdly quiet.

The war is over, they’re both alive, and Leo should feel better. He does, in some ways - it’s easier to tell himself he’s enough, it’s easier to show a smile that is a little less fake than usual.

Still, sometimes, he doesn’t, and he’s not sure why.

There are those moments when he simply deflates. Once, he would have said he needs to be alone in such moments; now, he’s not so sure.

“You don’t really look okay, Leo”.

Leo looks at him, and Jason looks back at him. It’s doing something to Leo’s heart - Leo is a little afraid it’s going to set itself on fire any time now.

It’s the first time Jason calls him out on his blatant lie.

“I…”, he starts. He’s not sure how to be honest anymore, how to take off the mask completely. “I… will be?”

It’s true, he always does feel better in the end. It still sounds like a question more than anything else.

Jason touches his shoulder to Leo’s, and this time he doesn’t move back after a few moments; he stays there, shoulder pressed against Leo’s, a solid and real comfort. Leo leans into the contact, he can’t really help it. It feels nice, like he could allow himself to fall, because Jason would be there to hold him and help him back up.

“You know, you don't have to smile if you don't feel like it”.

It hits Leo like a truck. It’s such a simple thing to say, so obvious. Right now, it feels bigger and heavier than anything. 

“Smiling is easier though”, he finds himself saying.

“Is it?”

Leo thinks that right now the only thing that’s keeping him safe is the press of Jason’s body against him.

Is it? Leo tries to remember when was the last time smiling and pretending while he felt like this had actually made him feel better. He comes up empty handed.

He leans more into Jason, wishes for a second that Jason would put his arm around his shoulders to keep him together. He wishes it so hard it takes him a moment too long to realize it’s real when Jason actually does.

But no, it really is true, the weight is real and firm, and Leo still feels like he’s going to crumble any moment, but he also feels like he doesn’t have to worry about picking up the pieces, because Jason will do it for him.

Jason pulls him closer.

His heart is definitely going to set itself on fire now, but Leo goes willingly, and finds it a little easier to breathe.

He closes his eyes, and doesn’t force himself to smile.

The next time, Leo doesn’t wait for Jason to ask.

He feels himself grow distant, getting lost in the maze of his thoughts and memories, he feels a little too outside of the chatting around him; and he feels his lips grow heavy under the weight of his smile, the mask getting harder to keep in place.

It’s a little like instinct, going to find Jason. It’s a little like fate that he finds him immediately in his cabin.

And it’s a little too easy to let himself fall on the bed against him.

Leo feels a little better just with that. 

“Ehi”, Jason murmurs, quietly.

He doesn’t ask, this time. Instead, he wraps his arms around Leo, pulls him closer and closer until Leo is basically curled in his lap, head against his chest.

Jason is sturdy under him. Safe, Leo thinks as he melts in the embrace.

He closes his eyes, and can’t feel anything but Jason around him, his hand caressing his head, his scent filling his senses.

He hasn’t been this bare around someone in years; he never realized how heavy his armor became until now, when he’s finally thrown it on the ground. Jason has taken it off of him piece by piece without Leo even realizing.

He doesn’t feel like smiling right now, but feels calm, quiet. 

The sound of Jason’s heart is the only one he can hear, and Leo almost thinks he can follow a morse code hidden in it, behind every beat.

His own flaming heart is doing the same as he runs and runs - but that code, Leo knows all too well.

His fingers start tapping it on Jason’s chest.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Maybe, one day, he’ll be able to tell him out loud. Maybe he can give Jason some more honesty.

Maybe Jason can understand it already.

For now, he holds tighter onto him and lets himself be held.

Leo soon finds out that Jason's arms are incredibly warm and welcoming, and that it's way too easy to fall into them.

It becomes a habit, and something that Leo doesn’t want to go without. He tries to, reprimands himself every time because it’s not right and it’s not good, and it’s only going to hurt him again and again and again. And where will he even find hiding and comfort once Jason himself is the reason for his spiraling?

But Jason is always there, and Leo can’t help himself.

And so, he doesn’t even wait for him to ask anymore, he simply allows himself to let the truth show, to stop smiling and fall silent, and he leans into him. Jason is always ready to catch him.

Leo wonders if Jason has the slightest idea of what it means to him - of what he means to Leo. Leo would love to have the courage to tell him - or, better, tell him in a language that Jason understands. 

Instead, he falls into him, snuggle into his chest, and loses himself in the feeling of strong arms circling him as his heart runs around in a fire in his ribcage and his fingers tap the same hidden message on Jason’s skin.

It’s so engraved into him, at this point, that his heartbeat probably follows the same pattern, the blood in his veins pumping to that same rhythm.

Maybe that’s why it takes him a long while to realize that that same pattern is being tapped on his own arm. Jason’s fingers follow the familiar movement of Leo’s, speaking the same words that his heart screams every second of every day.

Leo feels it against his skin, and he wants to cry.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Jason doesn’t know, Jason doesn’t understand, or he wouldn’t be doing that.

Leo lets himself feel it one more time before reaching out and catching Jason’s hand to stop him.

“What’s wrong?”, Jason asks.

For a long moment, Leo can’t find his voice.

“Stop”, he manages to say in the end. 

“Why?”

Such an easy question for such a complicated answer.

Leo wants to be honest. He desperately wants to put a fake smile on and leave. But he wants to be honest. He tries to find a joke to say, somewhere in his brain - something that would make the tension dissolve. 

It’s become way too difficult to lie to Jason though, especially when he’s holding Leo like this.

“You don’t know what it means”, he ends up saying. 

A moment of silence follows. Maybe Jason has gotten tired of trying to talk to him, after all.

“Of course I do”.

Leo stops, then turns to look at Jason.

“No, you don’t”.

Jason smiles, and Leo’s heart stops beating. There’s no way he isn’t going to set himself on fire any moment now.

“Yes, I do”.

“Then why are you doing it?”, Leo asks. He tries to move away, to put some distance between them, tries to take his armor and his mask back; but Jason keeps holding him, and keeps them out of his reach. 

“Same reason why you’ve been doing it all this time”, he says. Then adds, “Or I hope so”.

“Oh, I doubt it’s the same”, Leo scoffs. 

He hates the way Jason is looking at him right now, hates the way he himself is feeling right now. Still, he can’t help but lean into the touch when Jason cups his face - gently, he’s always so gentle with Leo.

His fingers start tapping again, slowly, like they’re engraving the pattern right onto Leo’s soul.

“Leo”, Jason says. “I’m going to be brave for the both of us if you’ll let me”.

Leo wants to say something, anything, but his voice is gone again.

Ha can feel nothing but Jason all around him, can’t hear nothing but the hidden words being written on his skin.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The pattern merges with the spoken words as Jason says them.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Leo still can’t find his voice but his fingers know what to do, and so they reply, carving his feelings on Jason’s chest.

It’s a little like a dream, except that Leo’s dreams are never this nice.

He hides his face in the crook of Jason’s neck, hoping that he won’t set fire to the both of them. Jason lets out a soft happy laugh and holds him closer, leaves a kiss on the top of Leo’s head.

Leo is bare and honest like he’s never been before.

He smiles, and thinks that that feels like belonging.

[xluciifer]

HELLO MY LOVELY SINNERS, GUESS WHO DROPPED BY TO SAY HI? THE BIG HONCHO HIMSELF, OF COURSE! ❤️👑

It's been a little bit and I haven't much touched Tumblr or Discord in the time I've been away, other than the fair share of likes I'd drop from time to time. But the other thing I've been distracting myself with to replace writing has been starting to bore me, so I'm crossing my fingers and thinking about coming back soon from my almost month away! Not exactly yet since this coming week will be busy with kiddo appointments.

But I wanted to come on by and say hi, and just that I miss you guys dearly and am thinking of returning to my throne some time soon.

Much, much love! Luci, the King of Hell. 👑❤️

[toffeebrews]

eufhhhh THEMMM!!!!!

(underfell by @/underfella and horror by sourapplestudios)

(pose based off this image by @moo_se on tiktok)

[that-was-anticlimactic]

one small thing can be the biggest thing of all

Kenji was smacking his keyboard again.

Atsushi did his best not to look since he knew that just made Kenji feel bad, but it was hard to tear his gaze away from the constant thumping.

And it’s not that Atsushi was annoyed (okay, maybe he was just a little bit, but that wasn’t Kenji’s fault), no, he was just… concerned. He was used to hearing sounds from Kenji—chirping, clicking, random bursts of short screams… they all blended into the background and became normal to him.

The smacking was new, though.

[or, kenji has a new, painful tic, and atsushi wants to help]

🌱3,611 words | kenji & atsushi-centric🌱

happy tourette's awareness month!!!

[awake-from-death]

i finished it! i wasn't able to fill out everything as much as i wanted to, because i wasn't allowed to look at everything, and it was basically completely blacked out! but i did my best!

[A folder is presented to @jollyoldjellie and @vanessa-vostokoff]

[open it?]

[pixelatedraindrops]

“I’ll keep you safe and warm on the lonesome and cold nights that you can’t find any comfort.”

Further Rambling below

Yeah it recently occurred to me that I have not ever drawn a sick Makoto getting comforted by Yuma before (shocking)

Tbh, I think part of me was afraid to, thinking Makoto being clingy or afraid was out of character. (and yet I wrote a 25k long fanfic about that exact premise, but to be fair I was super nervous about that too when I released it to the public 💦)

But I also see Makoto as a very lonely person. So when he feels genuine warmth and comfort for the first time in his life, he probably eats that up and is likely very touch starved. Add a fever and delirium into that mix and he is SUPER clingy and needy.

I also hc that he sees his mask as a comfort item. Similar to kids having security blankets or adults finding comfort in a familiar object. So when feeling anxious, he’s either already wearing it, or he clings to it like a child would a comfort plushie. (so I drew it here lol)

The short story is that Yuma came to visit and look after Makoto on a day that he was not doing well. (overworked and stressed with a 38 degree c fever) Makoto is his normal sarcastic and playful self the whole day despite this, and he and Yuma bicker and argue a lot while Yuma takes care of him. Until the time comes for the two to sleep, which they do in the same bed. While asleep in the middle of the night, Makoto has an awful nightmare (likely of his UG lab experiences as a test subject) causing his fever to spike. He shivers in the dark whimpering, eyes shut and clinging his mask thinking he’s still in the dream. As Yuma wakes up hearing the noise, he notices his clone beside him in such a pitiful state and he assumes he’s merely shaking from his illness getting worse. Yuma decides the ideal solution is to aid him by warming him up with his own body heat. So he gently pulls Makoto’s shivering body into his own. While Yuma tries to go back to sleep still holding onto Makoto, the homunculus unconsciously snuggles deeper into his original’s frame. Finding even just a little bit of comfort and security in Yuma’s warm embrace as he tries to fall to slumber once again. He was in a safe place…for now.

I essentially got inspired by my own fanfic for this, it’s not the same, but it is similar. Also this is my first (or second?) time seriously drawing Post Game Yuma. I tried to make him look calm despite the situation. (unlike my fic where I made him super emotional lol) I really love the idea of Yuma being Makoto’s comfort and security person on the days he’s unwell or going through too much.

Featuring the stupid little pjs I gave them in my other art lol I’m not very creative, but these grown (4’11 foot tall) men look good in graphic patterned pjs x’D

This took me a few days to get done. Not the best but its okay x’D Cuddle poses are always tricky x-x

Well regardless, hope you enjoy the fluffy comfort 💜💙

[sliceofhotsoda]

“Even if we never become pro volleyball players, I think we’ll find what we’re looking for.”

Shoyou leaned sideways into Tobio’s back, laying his head down on his shoulder. He wished he could see his face.

“What’s the point in doing all this if we can’t play volleyball in the end?”

Tobio’s voice seemed to rattle inside of Shoyou. Good question, he thought feebly.

“There’s a point,” Shoyou insisted, firm. But in his head, he said to him, there’s a good chance you’d be all alone in that house right now if we’d never met.

No way would Shoyou let that happen.

They stared at their feet in a shared sad silence. Kageyama glanced down at him at the same time that Shoyou risked a look at Kageyama, then both gazes flitted away.

“There’s a point,” Shoyou repeated. Heaviness sunk inside his gut, profound. “Maybe volleyball isn’t the point at all. Would there even have been a reason to keep playing if we didn’t have the team we have now? I mean, if you were on Seijoh instead of Karasuno and we never learned our special quick, or if you were never there to push me further, maybe volleyball wouldn’t be worth all our attention anymore.”

Shoyou swallowed hard, awaiting Kageyama’s response. He wasn’t even sure why this felt so important, but he had a feeling it had something to do with how much Kageyama meant to him.

Kageyama’s brows furrowed. He seemed deep in thought, his eyes growing wide as if he’d remembered something very necessary.

“Without you, I might have given up volleyball,” Kageyama said, hushed.

[hurlumerlu]

@delicatebeauties your tags sorta inspired me so... uh... here's a thing?

More flies with honey

a short THK fic (AO3)

The restaurant’s bell chimed its light, cheerful greeting, and Fadel didn’t even feel the need to look up. He knew who it was chiming for.

There were many conclusions to draw from that, none of them good, but the two hours Fadel had spent arguing with Bison had left him too tired to argue internally. He set the self-recriminations aside and abandoned the register.

"I suppose sorry, we’re closed will not –" he began. Stopped.

Style… well, Fadel wouldn’t know how to describe the guy even on the best day, but this time he had, apparently, decided to accessorize. There was his usual get-up: the beaten sneakers, the well-worn, comfort-first pants, a predictable – if exceedingly garrish – acid green and hot pink crop-top… then there was the rest.

Style walked up to the barstool on vigorous tiptoes, the clear imitation of a high-heeled catwalk. "I was out thrift-shopping with the girls," he proclaimed, doing a little spin before reaching the seat. Fadel had no idea who the girls were supposed to be, but Style always did that, always referred to the people in his gigantic social circle as if Fadel knew them too.

As if Fadel was part of his life.

"And we had a bet on who would wear these bad boys best." Playful jazz-hands, showing off the red, silky gloves that flowed from Style’s fingertips to the crook of his elbows. They were custom made, clearly, and for someone whose ring finger was longer than most: the fabric diped a little where Style’s too blunt nail couldn’t fill it. "I won, obviously, so we decided to complete the ensemble." He flicked at his birdcage veil with a wink, then let his hand rest on his throat, where laid a golden cross necklace. "Don’t I look great? Very femme fatale."

He had said those last two words in the self-satisfied way he always spoke english. Fadel considered pointing out it was actually french, and decided against it: the idiot would just brag about being polyglot. Style didn’t need his input anyway.

"Then Koi told me" – he pitched his tone higher, in what was without a doubt a terrible impersonation – "you should go see that man of yours, see what he thinks of all this, and I told her, Koi, you brilliant, brilliant woman – oh, we should send her a selfie!"

Fadel plucked the phone from Style’s grasp and turned to put it high on the shelf.

"You’ll get it back if you behave", he said, to prevent all protest, and tried to ignore the stage-whispered that’s so hot that resonated behind him. Somewhere in the neighborhood, some lady he had never met thought of him as Style’s man. Fadel slowed his breathing.

The other had finally sat down, and was looking at him with his chin propped on his palm, waiting for – oh.

"Why are you wearing make-up?" Fadel asked, knowing that was exactly what was expected of him and therefore the last thing he should have said. Worse: Style’s joy made it worth it.

"Thank you!" He exclaimed, like the question had been a compliment. "None of them would lend me their mascara, but May said one couldn’t be truly fatale without lipstick. What do you think?"

"It’s not your color."

"Oh come on." The pout probably wasn’t intended to be provocative, was probably just a pout, because Style had never been that good at coming off as seductive. "I was just fishing for compliments, dude, you don’t have to be honest all the time."

Fadel shrugged. He hadn’t been honest.

He handed Style a beer.

A bad move that would inevitably be read as an encouragement, but Style wasn’t a man you could get rid of with a cold shoulder. He wasn’t, mounting evidence suggested, a man you could get rid of at all. You had to hunker down and weather him. So Fadel handed him a beer, and watched his fingers, in their elegant red sheaths, open it on the counter. Watched his painted mouth welcome the bottle, his eyelids fluttering shut in appreciation.

Under the neon’s lights, the golden cross seemed to glint with every swallow.

Style put his drink down with an exagereted sigh. "Thanks, I needed that." Behind his veil, his fox eyes had blinked open. They, too, were watchful.

He leaned over the counter, and Fadel couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward as well. Style smiled up at him.

"Now ask me what a girl like me is doing in a place like this."

"No," Fadel said. His voice was coming out wrong, too soft, too low. "I won’t."

"Why?"

Because, Fadel thought, I don’t believe in love at first sight.

Because Bison wants so badly to be a real boy that he’s letting some smarmy fuck lead him around by the nose, and that means I can’t.

Because I should know better than to find you too good to be true.

He was still leaning forward, the cold metal of the counter warming under his hands. If he touched Style’s lipstick, it would ruin it.

"What’s the point of asking, when you’re only gonna feed me lies?"

[killerlittlerejects]

@the-art-ghost I already said thank you for the Jill and baby Icky art, but I felt that wasn’t enough. So please take this as an extra thank you gift!

Ever since talking about Jaylin, I’ve been thinking about drawing these adorable beans together. So here’s baby Icarus meeting baby Jay! Logically, I think she’d come around when Icarus is older and Jill misses having a baby/kid around, but I also really wanted to draw little Icky being excited over becoming a big brother, and running around to proudly show off his new baby sister. Jill’s a very proud mama bird.

Jaylin doesn’t stay smol for long though. Despite being younger, she’s nearly taller than him when the current time period rolls around lol.

I feel like everyone likes touching her on her little nubby nose. It’s so boopable. (Something tells me Jack would be the biggest culprit)

I hope you like it! And I hope I did baby Icky justice!

[nine-tale-fox]

🦊🎭 As promised, a little before five.

She arrives as the Sky Casino is about to take off, taking on a more appropriate appearance for the occasion as opposed to his usual get up. She pretty much blends in with the rich crowd, with her dark red suit and tie. The only thing sticking out about her is his messy black hair cut, bleached to a golden brown at its tips.

He didn't want to make his presence known yet, preferring to keep it a surprise, but silently hopes he wouldn't have to wait long to see the darling she's been chatting with. If he's lucky enough, the casino manager may be at the casino's entrance, welcoming tonight's guests inside.

> @casinoownersigma

[evocatiio]

if chibnall was the one writing this season you lot would be talking VERY differently