#But sometimes I wonder what would have happened if it would be a bit more comic akkurat

[boysmentfs]

Understand my son more.

Albert was the typical 50-year-old father, bald, beer-bellied and hairy, a father who always had problems with his 18-year-old son, theo.

Since his wife left them, Albert always had to keep an eye on Theo and Theo was more obedient when he was little, but once he turned 18 he became rebellious and always disobeyed his father

One Saturday afternoon albert was on his couch, with a beer in his hand and watching television, exactly a football match, As he had already had a few drinks, he began to remember all the times Theo had yelled at him: "stay out of my life!"

He let out a small sigh as I leaned my head back on the couch.

"Sometimes I wish I could understand my son better, walk in his shoes and see everything that goes through his mind, to try to understand him better." Albert said.

As he continued to think and drink beer, the sound of the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Theo told me he'd be back from the frat party later, I haven't cleaned the house, god"

Albert quickly stood up to throw away his beer, the pizza box and clean up the table a bit so Theo wouldn't yell at him, After he finished he sighed and went to open the door, to his surprise there was no one, he look to one side, to the other side and nobody, so it occurred to him to look down, he found what looked like a chain.

He raised an eyebrow and then picked it up and began to inspect it, it was nothing out of the ordinary just a bronze chain that was quite nice, it looked a lot like the ones his son wore, So he just shrugged and carried the chain over to the table.

He went back to the door to close it so he could sit back down on the couch and continue watching his football game, But something inside him told him to look at the chain again, since it was quite pretty and he liked it, so he got up from the couch just to grab the chain.

He wanted to put it on, but he couldn't, he clearly knew it was his son's... What would happen if his son came and saw him wearing it? A fight, and he didn't want to fight.

But after a few minutes of thinking, he grabbed the chain and put it around his neck, He went to his room and looked at himself completely because the chain looked very good on him so he just smiled and went back to his couch.

The hours passed and Theo did not arrive from the party, his father wondered if something bad had happened to his son, But knowing what Theo was like, he imagined that he was having sex with one of the cheerleaders, so all his worries went away.

The clock read exactly 12:00 a.m. so albert fell asleep with a beer in his hand and with the chain on.

The next day Albert woke up to the sound of cars and neighbors, he sat up to stretch and yawn but he was still sleepy, he wondered why but then he just shook his head and stood up, his body felt quite hot and he felt weird.

He walked up the stairs of his house and began to walk towards the hallway, he wondered if his son had arrived while he was sleeping so he opened his room but Theo was not there.

Theo's room smelled pretty bad, sweat, dirty socks, cigarette and... ¿C*m?

Albert had an idea, to clean Theo's room, so he went in and started picking up Theo's dirty clothes from the floor but without realizing it he got a cramp in his foot, so he sat down in his bed son.

Strangely, he began to feel dizzy, so he brought his hands to his head and then closed his eyes, perhaps the smell of the room could have made him dizzy.

"God, what's wrong with me?"

And without realizing it, his big, hairy feet began to shrink, all the hair on them began to cease to exist and thus give way to younger, more well-groomed feet, but still quite masculine.

"huh? Why do my boots feel so different?"

The next thing to start changing were his legs, his big legs began to deflate giving way to thinner legs without any hair, his thigh trunks began to slowly shrink while still being large but now a little less, his skin began to look quite young and smooth

His pectorals, which had fat and quite a bit of hair, began to shrink while all his hair ceased to exist, Now he had two worked pectorals, they were not big but you could notice them very well.

His beer belly began to burn all the fat and beer he had, it began to recede from his body to leave him with a flabby stomach with a bit of abs.

His rather hairy and wide arms began to change as well, all the fat on his arms began to cease to exist, his hair which he was proud to have ceased to exist to leave you with younger, softer skin, but still looking masculine.

All the clothes on his body were clearly too big for his, It was like a teenager had put on his dad's clothes so his clothes started to change, His military-colored shirt began to tighten around his body, the green color began to turn white giving way to a sporty white nike shirt.

His grey pants began to change and shrink, the bottom of the pants began to recede so that they now looked like shorts his color also began to change to a white tone, and he was now wearing white nike shorts and his boots changed to a pair of white nike sneakers.

Now his hands began to burn, feeling strange as he continued to hold his head, He couldn't notice how his big, wide, old, calloused hands began to look younger, his sausage fingers grew longer, His hands no longer looked so big and had a softer appearance.

His face began to change, all the beard he had and always shaved in the mornings began to reduce until it ceased to exist, All the fat on his jaw began to rust away, giving way to a very pronounced jaw, a jaw that could make any girl fall in love with him, All the fat on his cheeks oxidized to leave his with a slimmer face, His small lips began to plump up, giving his some rather cute and kissable lips, his nose became thinner and his eyebrows became smaller to give his a model face, right now Albert looked like an 18 year old american guy.

He took his hands off his head so he could put them on the edge of the bed and start breathing, The moment he removed his hands, hair began to grow, where he was once bald he now had hair and his hair began to turn into the typical cut of a jock guy.

The dizziness had passed, the heat had passed so he opened his eyes and began to look everywhere, when he saw himself in the mirror that Theo had in front of his bed he was completely surprised.

He quickly got up from the bed and then began to touch his face, hair and body. He clearly saw how his Adam's apple changed before his eyes, becoming more noticeable.

"I have become my son!? I am looking at my son's c*ck? Do I have my son's voice? I did not ask for this... I wanted to understand my son, not be my son..."

That strange feeling of looking at his son's c*cl made him feel weird, so he quickly pulled down his shorts and revealed that his c*ck was still his and not his c*ck son's.

But at that moment he began to feel hot, it seemed that Theo's hormones began to invade his body, Being an 18 year old guy Theo was always thinking about s*x so Albert started shaking his head

"no, no this can't be possible, no..."

Albert walked back and sat on the bed and then unconsciously brought his hand to his c*ck and began to j*rk off in front of the mirror, He watched as his fat little c*ck began to lengthen, fill with veins and widen, His 5-centimeter c*ck grew in size, reaching 12 centimeters.

Thoughts of Theo began to invade Albert's mind, t*ts, cheerleaders, s*x, alcohol and being with his bro's from the team began to invade his entire being.

After a few minutes of thinking about t*ts, Theo came like this staining the floor of his room, he let out a sigh and dropped onto the bed.

"I'm an idi*t, I left my bedroom door open and that old man could have seen me"

Theo quickly stood up and closed the door to his room, grabbing some cleaning towels from his nightstand to clean up the c*m he had released.

He pulled up his shorts and sat back down on his bed, took out his cell phone and took a photo to upload to his Instagram.

"This chain is sick bros! It makes me look more attractive ;) girls, I'll wait for you in my bed"

[munsonsmixtapes]

This could be just my hormones going insane but I just need a fix of Steve/eddie (or both) giving reader some loving cause all of her friends are having babies and she’s feeling a little bit frustrated it’s not happening with her. Either of the boys end up catching the vibes so they doo all they can to help our girl out and it sticks

What I would GIVE!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) grinding, breeding kink, creampie, mention of pregnancy, hurt/comfort, cockwarming

Having a baby isn’t something you’ve ever really thought about. Your life has always been so you haven’t really had the time, but as you’ve gotten older, you’ve begun to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t mind having a little one running around. You see the tiny little clothes when you’ve gone shopping and your heart bursts. At restaurants, you’ll see the cute little families and wonder what if that could be you?

Your baby fever get even worse when one of your close friends who just had her first child invites you over to meet him. The second she puts him in your arms and his tiny hand wraps around your finger, that's it. You just know you want one of your own. A little baby that you would raise until they eventually would venture out in the world on their own.

But that's all a pipe dream in your eyes. That would never happen for you because you’re single and sperm donors and adoptions can be tricky. So you're just stuck thinking about it for the rest of your life, just hoping, wishing that it'll miraculously happen.

You spend the whole drive home sobbing. You can barely even see through your tears, but you somehow make it home to your apartment that you share with your best friend, Steve. And for once, you hope he isn’t home, because there's no way you can tell him why you're crying. It'd be way too embarrassing.

So you wordlessly hurry to your room where you bury yourself under your covers as the sobs pour out of you. You feel so pathetic for crying about something like this, but you can't help it. It just hurts way more than it should.

There's a knock at the door and you're so glad that you locked it. You really can't talk to Steve right now. He just wouldn't understand. You know that he would be understanding and sympathetic like always, but this time, it would be even better if he was actually experiencing what you are.

"Hey, y/n," he says from the other side of the door and you can just imagine him with furrowed eyebrows, the look he always gets when he's upset. You know you've hurt his feeling by shutting him out, but this is for his own good. He doesn't want to have this awkward conversation with you. You're sure of it.

"I know you're upset about something so I uh, I made you that hot chocolate you like." He's so sweet that it makes your heart ache sometimes. What did you do to deserve a best friend like him?

You throw the covers off of you and make your way to the door. You unlock and open it to reveal Steve's sympathetic smile. He holds the mug out to you and you take it, taking a sip before heading back to your bed, Steve sitting next to you, but making sure to keep some space between the two of you.

Just like always, the silence isn't awkward between the two of you as you sip on your beverage and he just sits there. You set the mug on your desk then sit next to him again, this time to where your thighs are touching and you lean your head on his shoulder.

His arm wraps around your arm, his hand moving lazily up and down it as a way to comfort you. You can't help but let you mind wonder what it would be life if Steve was the father of your child. You're he'd be the perfect candidate, but you're sure that he'd think it was weird. His best friend wants to have a baby with him? That's definitely out of his comfort zone and you know it.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering you?" No fucking way. you're taking that shit to the grave. You've got to make something up, and fast.

"Just womanly stuff, you know how it is," you sniff, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks again. You do your best to try and pretend that your stomach is cramping and Steve is quick to pull you into his lap.

His rests is hands on the lower part of your stomach where he knows they get really bad and he begins to massage the area to relieve some of the pain. He always take sure good care of you and that's how you know that he would be a great dad.

You think about him doing the exact same thing when your stomach starts showing, talking to the baby and you suddenly feeling wet between your legs. You're staring to see Steve in a different way and you're not entirely sure how to feel about it.

"How does that feel?" He asks, looking down at you and suddenly, every single thought is replaced by your need to know what his lips feel like. They look like two pretty, pink pillows and you just can't stop staring.

“I’m not really cramping,” you tell him, feeling guilty that you lied to him. “I uh, I was actually upset because-well, because everyone around me is getting married and having children and I just-that’s what I want. I just want a family, Stevie.”

You look so heartbroken and Steve can see your eyes welling up again. He suddenly gets an idea, but he knows it’s crazy. When you mentioned having a family, clearly he wasn’t supposed to be in the picture. But now that it’s come to his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it.

He’d be honored to have a baby with you. He just knows you’d be an amazing mother, especially when he’s seen you with the kids in his family at different Harrington functions. Now that he’s thought of it, he can’t unsee it. Now he’s got to see it through. That is, if you agree. And why would you? The idea really isn’t something that he should be suggesting to his best friend, but what the hell?

“What if we had a baby?” He asks, his honey eyes boring into yours and you swear you just might melt. He’s so sweet sometimes that you don’t feel like you deserve him. He takes your silence as his answer and quickly tries to backtrack. “Just forget I said anything.”

“No, Steve,” you grab hold of his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I’d love to have a baby with you. Honored, actually.”

“You would?” His face lights up and you can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is.

“Yes,” you nod.

You move so that you’re straddling his lap while his hands rest on your waist. Shit, you’re really doing this and Steve can’t hide his excitement. This might be the smartest thing he’s ever done.

You make the first move, leaning down and bringing your face to his, slowly capturing his lips with yours. He's quick to respond, trying to match your pace as his lips move against yours. Yours are soft and he's convinced that this is the best kiss he's ever had. You know exactly what you're doing and he's just desperate for more.

Just as he melting into you, he feels you grinding against his crotch and he lets out a whine, already feeling himself getting hard. This has to be a record for sure. He lets you do what you want, loving everything you're doing so far.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he swears he's going to come just from hearing you. It's so hot and now that he's hearing it person and not on the other side of the wall when you pleasure yourself, he's sure it's even hotter because he's the cause of it.

“God, you’d look so pretty,” he sighs against your lips. “So fucking hot. And I’d praise you any chance I got.”

He’s saying all the right things and now you think you’re ready. You’ve-you’ve never done anything like this with Steve, but something about it feels so good, so right.

Your top comes off and it’s thrown to the side as Steve takes advantage of your now exposed skin. He kisses and nips at chest as you melt in his arms, mewling at every touch of his lips.

He slips the straps of your bra off of your shoulders and continues his kisses there, mixing in his lips with it as your hands grab hold of his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin and you flush, feeling hot from both his compliments and his soft lips. “Now let me see you.” He unhooks your bra and pulls it away from your body to reveal your bare chest.

Your nipples are hard and Steve’s mouth waters as he thinks about how badly he wants them in his mouth. They’re practically begging for it as your back arches, moving your body from side to side, his gaze following you.

Without warning, Steve grabs hold of your waist and turns your bodies so your back is flat against your bed, him on top of you. He goes straight for your nipple, taking it into his mouth, giving it a hard suck as he pins your arms to the bed.

You gasp as the feeling and Steve continues, introducing his tongue as he licks and sucks on your nipple, one of his hands moving to massage the other one so it gets some attention as well.

Your back arches against his as a pretty moan falls from your lips and he takes that as an invitation to continue. He bites down hard and you mewl, your fingers gripping the bedding underneath you.

“That’s a pretty sound, baby,” he compliments as he pulls away for a split second. “Wanna make it again?”

“Please,” you whine and he goes in again with another as you let out another moan. Once you’ve reached your peak, he moves onto the other nipple, doing the exact same routine until you’re orgasming again, grabbing onto his shirt, trying to pull it off of him so you can proceed.

Steve’s shirt is off in an instant and he kisses his way down your torso slowly, giving your stomach special attention. He peppers it with kisses as he showers you with the sweetest words, wanting to make you feel special, to know that he really wants this and isn’t just doing it because he should.

“You’re gonna be such a great mother,” he starts off, pressing a kiss to the spot right above your belly button. “I’d be honored to raise a child with you.” Another kiss to the spot. “Fuck, I’m gonna love filling you,” is what he finishes off with before pressing a kiss to the spot right above your jeans. He then unbuttons them and you just now you’re a mess now, feeling your slick rolling down your legs.

Your jeans are off in an instant followed by your panties and Steve undressed himself before spreading your legs wide, lining himself up with you before slowly inserting himself. It’s a tight fit, but by the time he’s done with you, you’re going to be so loose.

His pace is slow as he takes his time, watching you so intently to make sure that you’re okay. You’re more than enjoying yourself, it seems as you moan and whine, your nails scratching down his back. Steve didn’t realize just how much he loves not using a condom, feeling every single part of you against him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says as his thrusts pick up, moving even faster, inch by inch trying to get all of himself inside you.

“Haven’t done this in a while.” It’s at least been a couple of months.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll loosen you up in no time.” He’s pumping even harder and faster now, trying to get to a pace that the two of you will enjoy and continues at that pace as you respond positively.

“And look at that. You’re taking me so well.” He’s moving so fast now that the bed is squeaking underneath you, moving back and forth with every pump and you’re eating it up, needing feel all of him.

“More,” you whine and Steve just chuckles.

“Can’t go any faster than this.”

“No, Steve, more.” You grab hold of his hips and push him further inside you, bucking your hips against his so he gets the hint.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he winks. “Sure I’m not gonna hurt you?”

“I want you to. I just need to feel you. Want you to fill me.” You buck your hips again and again as the two of you work together, trying your best to get the other off.

He’s all the way inside you now and you can feel tears pricking your eyes as you can feel every single inch of him, so sure that he’s going to split you apart. Not that you mind. That would actually be the best way to go of you’re being honest.

“Taking me so well. Look at you, so close to coming. I can see it. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Gonna look even more beautiful with my baby. Gonna-“ his words are cut off as he reaches his own orgasm. He releases inside you and you watch him come undone, curling his head towards his chest as his eyes shut tight. His fingers are digging into your waist and you push his hair away from his sweaty face as he’s coming down.

He’s got just enough energy for little more. Just enough to get you there. He’s moving as hard and fast as he can, watching you come undone underneath him. You’re so pretty, the perfect mother for his child.

As soon as your orgasm is over, Steve lowers himself down onto, not even bothering to pull out because he just wants to be this close to you for a little longer. His lips find yours in a gentle kiss before he lays his head on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

You spend the rest of the night like that before cuddling up in your bed, the two of you discussing baby names, deciding that neither of you care whether it’s a boy or girl.

Nine months later, you welcome your baby girl into the world. Steve is right by your side the entire delivery and seeing you hold her for the first time, he’s sure that you’re going to be an amazing mother and he’s so excited to navigate parenting with you.

[faerybella219]

I just think Gale would be so warm.

The type of warm where you sit next to him and just feel the heat radiating off his body. It’s cold when the sun goes down and all you want is heat. You bundle yourself in layers and sit next to the fire as Gale chops up vegetables and roasts meat in a pot for dinner. Every now and then your knees brush together or bump elbows. The first time it happened he lets out an “Oop, apologies,” to which you hastily reply “Oh, its alright.” Really, you thought, it’s more than alright. Since then he stopped apologizing when it happens, seemingly not paying any mind to it.

You can’t help feeling you’re a bit in the way, but your tent is a chilling place- literally. He hasn’t said anything about you being next to him, and the warmth and smell of stew is a great comfort right now. His velvet pajamas seem so comfortable in the firelight. The purple fabric, the embroidered collar and cuffs, and the matching belt which seemed to pin back an excess of fabric reflected a cool hue onto his concentrated face. His gaze seemed to drift off into the flames, the fatty pork leg you found earlier sizzling.

“Smells good,” you remark, a smile quirking your occasionally shivering face.

Gale seems to be pulled from his thoughts when he looks over at you. “Yes, it’s not everyday we’re blessed with good meat. Hopefully this fills us up tonight.”

You nod, a shudder running through you. He glances you over in concern. “A bit cold?”

“You don’t feel it?”

“Ah, no. My body tends to run a bit on the warm side. Always has. Makes me a good bed for a tressym!”

You laugh, and he continues reminiscing. “Tara loved to sit on my stomach while I read in the library. Sometimes she would even have me read to her… don’t tell her I told you that though,” he barks out a laugh before murmuring, “she would be quite embarrassed.”

You think about meeting his cat- tressym. Hopefully she likes you. You think about his library in Waterdeep. Sitting on a chaise lounge with him, your back against his warm chest while he reads to you. His hands on your waist holding you close. Would you even make it that far? The sudden silence that falls between you means Gale wonders the same.

Gale clears his throat. “Well- erm. The stew still has a bit until it’s done. Hopefully that will warm you up.”

Your backs are propped against the wood log which lays behind you. He inconspicuously scoots a bit closer and opens a book which laid on the log. You try to peer over his shoulder to see what he’s reading. There’s nothing else for you to do, and you wouldn’t mind being closer. Your gaze does not go unnoticed.

Gale glances between you and the page, and you almost notice a pink hue creeping across his cheeks. No- probably just the firelight.

“Do you happen to be interested in Menzoberranzan horticulture? I find their uses of the Green Sleep fungus especially titillating.”

You’ve never heard of it before. “Sounds interesting.”

“Oh, that’s only the beginning. Would you.. would you like to read with me?” Gale extends the book further in your direction in offering, looking at you expectantly.

“Sure,” you say. Scooting closer you try to remain casual and unaffected. Your sides are touching now, his on the ground with the book propped open on his legs. Gods, he’s so warm. You feel as though you’re thawing just sitting next to him.

Every now and then he looks at your face, silently asking if he can flip the page. You always just nod, finding it hard to concentrate on reading. His chest rises and falls steadily, his freshly calloused fingers occasionally point out especially interesting passages, and you relax (trying not to melt) into his side. At one point you think you might start to drift off right there, your eyes half lidded.

Suddenly the air starts to smell yummier- fuller and flavored. You realize your eyes are opening to the sight of Gale checking the contents of the pot simmering on the fire.

He turns back to you, “Well, the stew is done.”

Just as you straighten up, he hands you a full bowl. A sheepish smile crawls across his face, and surprisingly he doesn’t say anything.

[eclipixels]

😭 hey i read your isagi works and found it quite humorous if u dont mind can i request smth like if u have seen horimiya s1 u saw how hori was into miyamura becoming rude towards her and she liked it lol kinda weird but like can u pls make smth like that but with the soft characters like isagi, bachira, yukimiya (my bae could never but pls include him) and kunigami plsssssssss

Pathetic

Characters: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Kenyu Yukimiya, Rensuke Kunigami

Content: How they react to overhearing you on the phone saying, “He is sweet, so sweet. But I don’t know, sometimes when he gets a little mean, it’s kinda hot”

Warning: Slight masochism, ooc

Isagi

      His face flushed with heat as he absorbed your words. He knew you relished those moments when he took control and was a little mean. Did you crave even more of that commanding presence? It seemed like there was no harm in exploring further.

      That very day marked the beginning of a gentle experiment. The two of you were nestled on the couch, absorbed in a lively session of FIFA 23. You found yourself underperforming spectacularly, selling so much so that you began to wonder what was happening to your usual skills. Embarrassment crept in as you noticed your consistently poor performance.

      "Y/n, why do you actually suck at this?" he deadpanned.

      "Huh?" you responded, caught off guard by the blunt remark.

      "A potato can play this better," he added with a casual shrug, his honesty cutting through the playful banter.

      "Babe, what the hell," you muttered, a mix of frustration and amusement in your tone.

      "I'm just being honest," he insisted, his expression unrepentant yet mischievous.

      A curious flutter stirred in your stomach.

      Later in the day, he called out to you, inviting you to join him for an activity. Feeling a bit languid, you initially dismissed his call, silently daring him to maintain that teasing attitude.

      "Y/n, don't make me come over," he said, his voice laced with both challenge and amusement. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his persistent frustration. You heard his footsteps as he came to where you were.

      "The fuck is wrong with you? Don't you hear me calling for you?" he barked, his gaze sharp and tinged with anger. You fell silent under his intense stare. With a shake of his head, he strode over and, without warning, manhandled you back to the bedroom with a firm grip.

      "Brat," he muttered, a mixture of exasperation and affection in his tone. “Listen and do as you're told," He growled, and you couldn’t help the squeal you let out as he threw you onto the bed.

      “Make me, pretty boy.” You teased, hoping he’d take it further and he was about to, but he faltered once he saw your happy cute face. How could he be mean to that?

      “Noooo, come back.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him in.

      “I feel bad.” He slouched onto you, hiding his face in your chest. He couldn’t keep it up for even a day.

Bachira

      Bachira had always been a little devil in his own right—a whirlwind of playful mischief and irreverence—but when it came to you, he softened into something entirely different. To him, you were his cherished honey bee, the one soul who had managed to capture his elusive heart. In a world that seldom understood him, you were the singular beacon of warmth and acceptance in his life.

      Every afternoon, you would watch him practice, your eyes filled with admiration and a longing to be a part of his world. Slowly, Bachira began to teach you the subtleties of the game. The art of a well-timed pass, the perfect angle for a shot, and the dance of footwork that made him seem almost untouchable. Though you improved with every lesson, you never quite reached his effortless level of mastery.

      Bachira was not one to wound feelings or cast harsh words at you for it, though. So when he overheard snippets of your conversation with a friend, confusion crept into his usually confident demeanor. How could someone ever enjoy being treated unkindly? After all, he had experienced his own share of judgment and odd looks from those who failed to see beyond the surface. The thought of inflicting that same cold treatment on you, his precious honey bee, was unthinkable.

      “Meg, can you teach me?” You asked, walking up to him as he was dribbling on the field.

      “Sure, hun.” He smiled. Okay he was already failing at this, but how could he resist you when you asked so sweetly?

      "Come on, I know you can do better than that," he said, watching as you missed the mark with your kick.

      "I don't know, Meguru," you muttered, frowning.

      "Pathetic," he remarked, and you shot him a surprised look. Wait, why did that kinda…?

      "I know you can do better, so stop acting like you can't," he added, his frown deepening.

      You adjusted your footwork, trying again with a more precise angle.

      "Again," he said, his tone firm. You raised an eyebrow, confused. "Don’t make me repeat myself, wasp."

      You nodded, following his lead, though a strange feeling tugged at his chest. He couldn't deny that part of him enjoyed pushing you, even if the other part felt a twinge of guilt. His monster ego versus his guilty conscience.

      That wasn’t all, though.

      As you strolled casually past him later that day, his hand darted out unexpectedly. He slapped you. On your ass, of course. He thought it was the most fitting spot for such an unconventional gesture. The sound echoed softly in the space between you, and you yelped in surprise. Spinning around, your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and undeniable delight, your cheeks blooming into a blush.

      Bachira, ever perceptive, studied your reaction. In that split second, as your surprise melted into a spark of excitement, his signature grin began to spread across his face.

      “Meg…” you whispered, your voice a blend of desire and joy.

      He tilted his head with a playful arch of his brow. “Yes, hun?” he replied, his tone light yet loaded with an unspoken promise.

      “That was hot,” you confessed.

Yukimiya

      Yukimiya had always been the calm and collected one. He had overheard your phone call earlier with your friend and wasn’t planning to do anything about it. But tonight, he was in a mood, one that didn't quite align with his usual demeanor. You could tell by the way he was glaring at you across the room. So, he didn’t quite feel as bad as he would’ve for the way he was about to treat you.

      It started innocently enough, with you attempting to cheer him up with some snacks from the convenient store. You set the bag down in front of him.

      "What’s this?"

      Your heart sank a little, but you bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile. "I... I thought you'd like it."

      “I do, but I was kind of expecting a meal.” Yukimiya muttered, shoving the bag aside. He stood up, towering over you, his gaze hard and unfeeling.

      You shivered at the sting in his words, feeling a rush of excitement flood through you. You knew what kind of mood he was in now—he was in one of his dominant, mean-spirited phases. And, much to your surprise, it made your heart race.

      "Kenyu..." you whispered, unable to suppress the thrill coursing through your veins.

      "What?" His voice was cold, and his eyes were sharp as he glared at you.

      "You’re not mad at me, are you?" you asked softly, your voice shaking with anticipation.

      “No, I just–” He took off his glasses and rubbed his temples before continuing, “I’m frustrated.”

      “Can I help?” You looked up at him all innocently.

      “I just wanna be left alone.” He grumbled.

      “Are you sure? I can make you—”

      “Did you not hear what I said?” He raised his voice a little, surprising you both. He was about to apologize but he saw the look on your face. You were liking this?

      You swallowed hard, but your pulse quickened. The more he acted like this, the more your body responded. You were into it, the way he could reduce you to nothing more than a trembling mess with just his words, the way he could make you feel both desperate and satisfied at the same time.

      Yukimiya froze, his breath catching in his chest as the reality of the moment hit him. What was he doing? His gaze softened, as he realized what this was between you two. He exhaled slowly.

      “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he looked at you, regret written across his face.

      “No, no, it’s fine, Kenyu,” you reassured him, stepping closer. “Really. You can take your frustration out on me if you need to.”

      He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your response. “A-are you sure?” His eyes flickered between uncertainty and something deeper, something darker. He hadn’t really thought about that as an option.

      You nodded, a soft smile curving your lips as you met his gaze. “I’m sure. I want you to. Just... let go. Whatever you're feeling, take it out on me.”

      Kenyu took a step forward, his hand lifting as if to touch you, but he hesitated again. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured.

      “You won’t,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the thrill running through your veins. “I trust you.”

      He let out a shaky breath, clearly struggling with the conflict inside him. After a long pause, his eyes darkened with something unreadable. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he gently gripped your wrist, pulling you toward him.

      “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered

Kunigami

      Rensuke Kunigami was a man of discipline. He didn’t believe in playing games, and he definitely didn’t waste time on things that didn’t serve a purpose. So when he overheard you on the phone, he didn’t overthink it.

      If that’s what you wanted, he’d deliver.

      But he wasn’t going to fake it, and he definitely wasn’t going to coddle you afterward. Kunigami didn’t do things halfway.

      The shift in his behavior was subtle at first. You noticed it when you were out together, when he stopped softening his words for you.

      “Y/n, stop dragging your feet,” he muttered one afternoon as you strolled beside him, struggling to keep up with his pace.

      “I’m not dragging my feet,” you shot back, slightly out of breath.

      Kunigami barely spared you a glance. “Then why are you so damn slow?”

      Your stomach fluttered at the bluntness of his tone. He had never spoken to you like that before. You bit your lip, resisting the urge to grin.

      Later, at home, it escalated. You were sprawled on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through your phone while he stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest.

      “You’re wasting time,” he said flatly.

      You blinked up at him. “What?”

      “I’ve been calling you for the last five minutes. Get up.”

      You hesitated, testing the waters. “Or what?”

      Kunigami exhaled through his nose, then strode over to where you lay. Without another word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you upright with zero effort, dragging you toward the bedroom.

      "Hey!" you yelped, but the rush of excitement shot through you before you could think twice about it.

      He didn’t slow down. “I don’t like repeating myself,” he said simply, his grip firm but controlled. “Next time, move when I tell you to.”

      Your heart was racing now, and you didn’t fight him. You liked this side of him. Kunigami had always been intense, but he had never turned that intensity on you. And now that he had, you felt like you were standing too close to a flame, burning up in the best way possible.

      “M’sorry, Ren.” You responded, and Kunigami melted at your look. Did he go too far?

      Kunigami studied you for a moment, his sharp golden eyes taking in every detail. The way your breath hitched, the way you looked up at him, expectant and eager. He exhaled through his nose again, shaking his head slightly. All of his guilt washed away from your reaction.

      “Yeah whatever. Shut up and do as you’re told.”

      And who were you to disobey?

[tsumuus]

Ahhh hooray and congrats on the 1k!! Your valentine's event is so so cute, I love all the ideas! Could I please request a box of chocolates for ushijima? ❤

Valentine’s Day had always been one of those days you admired from afar- watching classmates exchange gifts, witnessing the blush of first confessions, and relishing in the general warmth that came with the occasion. This year, you had decided to contribute in your own way, spending the night before carefully crafting homemade chocolates for your entire class. Each small bag was tied with a delicate ribbon, each filled with sweets you had put time and effort into making.

You arrived at school with a tote bag full of the individually wrapped treats, excited to hand them out during the break period. As planned, you walked around the classroom, placing them gently onto each desk while greeting your classmates. Laughter and delighted murmurs filled the room as your friends and peers discovered their treats, thanking you with smiles and teasing remarks about how dedicated you were.

Among the many little packets, there was one that differed from the rest. It held the same chocolates, but nestled inside was a handwritten note- a playful confession meant for your best friend, meant to be nothing more than a joke. Something silly, something lighthearted. A harmless Valentine’s prank. You had intended to hand it to her personally, grinning as she opened it. But in the midst of distributing your gifts, you must have mixed up the bags.

And so, completely unaware of the mistake, you spent the rest of the day in blissful ignorance.

It wasn’t until the final bell rang that the atmosphere shifted. Most students had already left, filing out into the hallways to continue their Valentine’s Day plans. You remained at your desk, gathering your belongings when a shadow loomed over you.

Wakatoshi Ushijima stood before you, his towering presence as imposing as ever. His expression was unreadable, but there was a certain softness in his gaze that made your stomach twist in nervous anticipation. You barely spoke outside of school-related discussions; you were acquaintances at best. He was admired by many, respected for both his talent and sheer presence.

“Thank you for the chocolates,” he said, his voice steady and deep.

You smiled, pleased that he had enjoyed them. “Oh! Of course, Ushijima. I’m glad you liked them.”

For a brief moment, you wondered why he had sought you out just to say that. But before you could think too much about it, he continued.

“I feel the same way,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I would like to go out with you sometime.”

Your mind short-circuited.

“…Huh?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked down at his hand. There, between his fingers, was a very familiar piece of paper- the confession letter. Your confession letter. Your joke confession letter.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and panic surged through you like wildfire.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, hands flying up to your face. “Oh my god, oh my god-”

Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, then immediately regretted it when you saw his expression falter just the slightest bit. “I mean- no! I mean- Ushijima, I think there’s been a mistake.”

He glanced down at the note. “The confession was not from you?”

“Well- no, it was from me,” you admitted, rubbing your temples, trying to piece your thoughts together. “But it wasn’t- it wasn’t meant for you. I mean, not that I wouldn’t-” You groaned, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “It was a joke. I wrote it as a joke for my best friend, but you must have gotten the wrong bag.”

Silence stretched between you two as Ushijima processed your words. You half-expected him to retract his statement, to walk away and pretend the whole thing never happened. But he didn’t.

Instead, he nodded once, a firm sort of conviction in his movement. “Regardless, I meant what I said.”

You blinked. “…What?”

“I have liked you for some time now,” he stated bluntly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I just never found the right moment to tell you. This seemed like an opportunity.”

You stared at him, feeling as though the ground had shifted beneath you. “You… have?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. The idea that Ushijima Wakatoshi- stoic, composed, admired- had been harboring feelings for you all this time was nothing short of surreal. And yet, looking at him now, seeing the honesty in his expression, you realized that he was serious.

It wasn’t a joke to him. It had never been.

A part of you wanted to scream into the void. Another part of you, the part that had always admired him from a distance, felt an undeniable warmth spread through your chest.

You exhaled, trying to steady yourself. “I- um. I don’t really know what to say.”

“Then take your time,” he replied, his voice gentle in a way you hadn’t expected. “I will wait.”

You swallowed thickly, staring at him, at the quiet patience in his eyes. The reality of the situation was beginning to settle, and for the first time since the conversation started, you felt yourself relax.

“…Okay.” You met his gaze with a small, genuine smile. “Then… maybe we can start with getting to know each other better?”

He nodded, a subtle curve to his lips. “I would like that.”

As you gathered your things, preparing to walk out with him, you realized something strange about fate- that even with all your careful planning, life had a way of leading you to unexpected places. Perhaps, just this once, a mistake had led you exactly where you needed to be.

valentines event | masterlists

a/n ty for the request :) this is the first fic ive ever written for ushijima🙃 hope you liked it

[potahun]

dug a little deeper in my memory and here is the tally of times furuya responded truthfully to kazami and those he avoided responding to a direct question from kazami about himself:

(ztt anime only) kazami asks him if furuya has ever failed before: ODIOUS AVOIDANCE. JAIL FOR FURUYA. he responds "let's see... for example...for example...um" and kazami tells him it's enough. i've always wondered, i think hiro's death is his biggest failure, but....that's too raw for a nomikai to cheer kazami up huh. it could also be that he genuinely...doesn't remember his failures....but that's pushing it a bit. responding with a real failure would make him look uncool to kazami either way, though.

kazami asks him why he's going to the vet: TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED. furuya answers truthfully he's going there to get some vaccinations done.

kazami asks him what happened to him / how did furuya get injured at the curry shop: TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED. furuya answers truthfully "it's something from yesterday". it was. he didn't go into details, and kazami didn't inquire further, but it was the truth

kazami notes furuya looks preoccupied with time, and asks him if he has plans later: TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED. furuya answers he's going to play a game (he was!) and asks kazami not to repeat this to his PSB colleagues. he looks miffed that he had to reply, but he didn't have to? he chose to reply?

kazami asks if the doggy is doing well: TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED but it's not that impressive since it's a benign question and kazami knows about haro anyway. but furuya does add "he probably misses you" which. hinting kazami should come over sometime? or....

kazami doesn't really ask, but hints a question by saying "survival class? you told me you were on another mission" when furuya got trapped in a basement and had to ask kazami to rescue him: ODIOUS AVOIDANCE. JAIL FOR FURUYA. furuya hits him with his usual curveball of "a lot has happened". it's not exactly a lie though. i mean you could consider it the truth...actually maybe it is a TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED. hmm. but yeah, going into details would have made him look uncool

kazami asks him if he was showering just now (...kazami.): TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED. furuya responds truthfully with "yeah". then again, it's more a thing about why is kazami asking this? than why is furuya answering, since it IS a benign question, but also kazami, you don't have to ask

kazami doesn't straight up ask but he hints pretty heavily that he'd like to know about the makeup remover in furuya's bathroom, and the hairpins...and the toothbrushes...and the hair...: TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED. (WHY! HOW!) furuya takes him through each of the items, except the make-up remover, to prove he hasn't brought a woman home (because that's what kazami cared about) and even goes as far as to check with kazami if he had "any other unclarified doubts". ok

kazami asks furuya if he was at haido shopping mall the other day, cuz he tried to call out to furuya but furuya didn't reply to him :( : TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED. furuya basically lays out his whole doppelganger problem to him.

kazami asks furuya what exactly he is investigating by blowing on a train window: ODIOUS AVOIDANCE. JAIL FOR FURUYA. furuya hangs up before having to reply, and does say "sorry" and "thanks" for the help. a situation where replying would have made him look bad in kazami's eyes

kazami asks furuya what he's looking at in the basement of hatoyama farm (the shoji piece) cuz he's been fixated on it for a while: TRUTH CARD ACQUIRED. furuya shares what he knows (which is not much).

kazami asks furuya why he's fixated on kid all of a sudden: ODIOUS AVOIDANCE. JAIL FOR FURUYA. furuya even spins a lie about how he's concerned for the queen but oh! lies! jail for furuya! he just needed kazami's help because he has no friends!! but he can't tell kazami that. it would make him look bad in kazami's eyes. however, even so, he adds truthfully that "he has a good reason he can't lose to kid now". which is objectively wrong, cuz his reason is shitty and petty, but to him, it's a truth. so there's that.

all in all, 3/4 instances of jail for furuya (depending on how you look at the answer), and pretty much only in situations where telling the truth would make him look uncool in kazami's eyes. kazami's record of "make furuya tell the truth to him through direct questions" is still very high, considering the character that furuya is.

I just love kazami asking questions away like "why are you going to the vet?" "do you have an appointment after this or...?" "what are you looking at?" "i found make up remover in your bathroom (why is it there?)" to furuya with no thought for whether it could be linked to a confidential mission that he's not privy to. it's in his space and scope of vision so he's gonna ask. if furuya didnt want him to ask maybe he shouldnt be having him in the "able to notice and to ask" vicinity

[moodyseal]

Okay I promise I will try to shut up about this specific moment in AA soon but. The dive into the past in Turnabout Succession with the whole Magnifi Gramarye case and its aftermath is already heartbreaking on its own but what I think is the most heartbreaking thing about it is how the gameplay itself carries out. I mean they could've let the player watch the case unfold as usual and then have Phoenix simply yell "HOLD IT!!" and present the single piece of evidence that got him disbarred completely on his own (no less tragic, but at least it's like hearing someone recount a memory) but they actually gave the player the choice. Or the illusion of it

A screen pops up with two single options, "Show evidence" and "No need", and of course you hesitate to click on either because this happens in the last few stretches of the game and you already know what consequences this will have. It will be bad. You try to change the outcome, click "No need". After some quick dialogue, it goes back to that screen. You click it again. It circles back to those two options. And again. And again. And then you realize you never really had a choice after all and you click "Show evidence" and then of course it ends badly. Which you knew already, but couldn't prevent

With this game dynamic you're not just witnessing this story—you become part of that case. You're forced to give the wrong advice even if you're aware it's wrong, and you're forced to knowingly doom Phoenix Wright with your own two hands

[loumauve]

Sable pic spam bc I'm ridiculously attached to this buggy game

[blackcatxmagic]

Corey's smile was so damn cute, and it just made Leo smile in turn. How had he gone into the grocery store so many times before and not noticed Corey? The only explanation that made sense was that he'd somehow missed him every time because Leo knew he'd remember that hair if nothing else. But something drew him in to the other man, the sweetness, that innocence, and Leo was so glad they were doing this. Grinning at Corey, he replied, "Well I'm glad you appreciate my terrible attempts at humor. It's true though - you are sweet, like this Mai Tai." Then a mischievous smile appeared on his face, and Leo added, "I bet you taste just as good." It was a little dirty, sure, but...not all the thoughts Leo had been having about the other man had been pure and wholesome.

In the booth, Leo kept finding ways to touch Corey, his shoulder, his arm, fingers brushing through his hair and grazing his neck, featherlight and just enough pressure to get a reaction out of the other man. His free hand moved to Corey's thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, before rubbing it a little bit. Leo noticed Corey's bashfulness, and he was watching for signs that it was because he was uncomfortable with Leo's touch, but as he spoke, it seemed pretty clear that there was more to it. "I get that," Leo replied. "Sometimes I feel like I don't think things through enough, so both extremes can be hindering, you know? Still, it blows my mind that you're not beating them off with a stick." And then because apparently he wasn't as mature as he thought, Leo chuckled softly at the "beating them off" comment, though he didn't bring it up. "So many guys would be into your vibe," Leo told Corey. "I know it's something you're purposely doing, that this is just who you are, which honestly makes it better. Not everyone likes a bad boy; some people like the sweet ones." For his part, Leo liked all different kinds of guys, but Corey was definitely one of the types that appealed to him; he wondered what kinds of noises he could draw from that innocent mouth. Leo was tempted to call this a date now, but he didn't go that far because he didn't want to lead Corey on. So far, he really liked the man, but that wasn't what Leo was looking for. Still, he was having a nice time and hoped this would be the beginning of a friendship between the two men. And yes, Leo hoped that friendship included naked time, though that wasn't a requirement.

Laughing at Corey's remark, Leo replied, "I don't know if I'd say loads, but I do alright. I go on a lot of first dates...not so many second ones. Though I guess I define 'date' pretty loosely. Like is it a date if I pick up someone at a bar and take them back to my place?" If so, then that was a very regular occurrence for Leo. This kind of thing though didn't happen very much. "I flirt a lot though, so I guess practice makes perfect." Leo finished off his drink, then gestured to the bartender for another before returning his attention to Corey. "You know, I bet everyone in this bar is jealous of our gorgeous hair," he said, only sort of joking. "It's almost unfair to them to have this much beauty in one place, where they can look but not touch. Only one person gets to touch you tonight." As if to punctuate this statement, Leo slid his hand further up Corey's thigh, giving it another squeeze. "You know, maybe later tonight you could come to my place. I have a hot tub, so..." Leo trailed off, just giving Corey a suggestive look as the bartender brought his next drink. After taking another sip, Leo said more seriously, "Really though, you've got a lot to offer. I hope you can see that, Corey."

Corey felt a little warm under Leo's praise, his heart fluttering with both the compliment and the warmth in Leo's gaze and touch. He found himself smiling, a little shyly, feeling that familiar mix of excitement and slight nervousness. Leo’s words made him feel seen, and it was... well, it was nice. It had admittedly been a while since Corey had let himself be so open to such energy from another person, even despite it being something that he so often craved.

"Thanks, Leo," Corey responded softly, looking up at him with a small but genuine smile. He chuckled lightly at the joke that Leo made to compare him to the drink, shaking his head as he tried to hide just how endearing he thought those words were. "That's actually really funny," he chuckled, almost giggled. "It's not lame at all, I really appreciate it." The Mai Tai was refreshing, and he could already tell Leo had been right – he did like it. Was Corey that easy to read? Or did Leo have some supernatural sense for guessing drink orders?

Corey leaned into the warmth of Leo’s side, his own arm brushing against Leo’s lightly, appreciating the closeness. He looked up at the other man again, his smile growing wider as he spoke - just as his nerves did, but the compliments weren't unwelcome. "Thank you," he thanked him again, feeling himself grow more and more bashful, but trying to overcome it, trying to remain cool, calm, and collected. "I actually don't go on that many dates," he admitted. "I can be a bit of an overthinker," he put it extremely lightly, "and so sometimes that gets in the way. It's not that I don't want to go on dates, and it's not like I'm only kind to people because I'm trying to date them but... I don't know, it hasn't happened for a little while," he shrugged, only catching himself at the end there, realising how open and vulnerable he was being. "Sorry," he apologised, taking another sip of his drink. "I bet you go on loads of dates though, you've got the whole flirting thing down perfectly." Not to mention, Leo was extremely attractive too.

[purple--queen]

I thing Marvel missed an opportunity to make Steven grant a millionaire in the mcu.

All the jokes about: you never see Steven Grant & moon knight in the same room.

[ulmus-spellook]

Me on Saturday: looking up info for timing in the closest city “I know I won’t be able to see the total eclipse from my part of the country, but I could at least see a partial one!”

Me on Sunday: it’s raining outside and it looks like the kind of rain that lasts more than 24 hours “oh no.”

Me on Monday: I look outside around noon, it’s cloudy out and when I opened my weather app it said it would start raining soon *sigh* “the clouds have once again prevented me from witnessing a cool sky event” we really need this rain though. It would have been nice if it came a few days sooner! There would be less fire and the sky could be clearer for the eclipse

So today I’m hearing people online talking about how cool the eclipse was and just being like: “I’m gonna be honest. I accidentally slept through the last partial (solar) eclipse and I couldn’t even see this partial solar eclipse if I was trying”

I know I’ve seen lunar eclipses though, my insomnia was at least useful there

[kalashtars]

venting in the tags yippeee

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[retiredteabag]

I’m listening to you

Including: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Yuuji, and Megumi

Synopsis: You stop talking because you assume they aren’t listening… how silly of you, but how do they react?

my masterlist

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Satoru

It would probably be like any other day, he had probably just come back from a mission, laying across the couch and you would be in the kitchen making a snack board as you talked about numerous different things.

The conversation would shift through a multitude of topics as one thing would then reminded you of the next.

As you were getting the chips, you would explain the drama at work after that you would go and get some hummus while you explained the love life of one of your coworkers thereafter you would be reminded of a friend of yours from high school while piling up some cheese cubes.

Throughout all of this, there were very few breaks in your speech. When you finally came to the living room, Satoru would be facing towards you, with his head slightly tilted back on the armrest and his feet dangling off the other edge.

You could see him, just not very well. His blindfold would also be on, not an uncommon occurrence, but it would still be hard for you to see the slight changes in his facial features that typically depicted his emotions to you.

After awhile, you might start to wonder if he was feeling tired from the mission or if he just wasn’t paying attention. It’s okay, getting distracted happens to everyone sometimes.

Your words would taper off.

Believe me when I say it would not take this man any longer than say…five seconds for his head to raise and voice to pipe up,

“Well what happened next?”

And with a grabby hand he would add,

“Aren’t you gonna share those?”

Turning to point at the snacks in your lap.

For such a chatty guy, you would be surprised by how much he enjoyed just listening to others. Especially if it meant listening to you.

Nanami

Let’s be realistic here, this man would never take his undivided attention away from you.

That being said, the situation would be a little bit different with him. You guys would probably be out for coffee. Maybe the both of you had been busy for a while and felt the need to make a day out of catching up.

You know that embarrassing feeling when you get the notion you’ve been talking too much? It would be something like that.

You would have been gesturing and looking around the room while you talked about this and that. Unbeknownst to you, he would have hearts in his eyes while he listened to your ramblings.

That sudden itch would get to you though, the notion that, maaaaaaaaybe you have been talking about yourself too long.

One quick look at your man caused a shiver to run up your back at the eye contact.

There would be a pause in your speech, and he would nod at you to encourage more words to spill fourth, but now you were all flustered.

You would trip over your words, stuttering every so often before eventually apologizing.

“What is it, dear?”

He would ask, after a moment of you trying to collect yourself, he would assume that you had simply lost your train of thought and remind you of the topics you had been previously sharing.

You would thank him even though that wouldn’t have been the issue at all.

How could you not get shy when he was looking at you like that?

Choso

This would have to occur after a long day. Either during nap time or before you both went to bed.

He would be laying his head on your chest as you played with his freed hair. Talking about stuff you had seen online, talking about your plans for the next day, talking about what you were planning to eat for lunch tomorrow, the list could go on.

Every so often he would hum or nod his head. But after a while, you would look down and see that his eyes were closed.

It wasn’t hurtful, or embarrassing. It has been a long day for the both of you, and he was probably just tired. He often fell asleep easily when you combed through his hair with your nails. So you wouldn’t be offended as you go silent.

After you stop talking, though, he would grab your free hand and fiddle with your fingers, saying,

“I like those tacos too… we should get lunch together!”

You would giggle and tug on a lock of his hair, “I thought you were asleep.”

He would spin around onto his chest, chin pressed slightly into you while he looked up at your eyes through those big, long, lashes of his, “But you were talking to me?”

Sukuna

This man :| he would get offended if you insinuated that you could possibly be boring him.

Of course, it would be his fault, too. He would complain and whine all the time about how uninterested he was in your life. Griping that he had better things to do than just sit around and listen to you talk.

But don’t misunderstand, there was nothing he desired more than to watchyou speak about things that impassioned you.

But perhaps one of those instances you would take to heart, he was a busy man after all. It’s not like he had all the time in the world to listen to you yap about nonsense.

So after a long while in his chambers, you would just kind of go silent. ‘Allowing’ him a little time to himself.

Just earlier that day, you would have been telling him a story about one of your fellow workers at the estate. Sukuna had rolled his eyes at the incompetence of his staff as you giggled on about how a man got his hand stuck in a jar full of fertilizer.

You would take his disinterested countenance to assume that he was bored with you. For someone so ancient, he did have an attention span fitting to the times.

He always told you not to make assumptions about him, but after him asking you on several occasions, “and why are you telling me this?” You couldn’t help or conclude that he wasn’t all that interested.

I’ll tell you now. As much as he would like to pretend that was the case, it is far from the truth.

He would frown while laying on his bed. “Why did you stop?”

You would spin around, slightly surprised that he had even been paying attention. “Oh I just thought maybe I was boring you…”

That would cause him to sit up, scowling in your direction, “Did I say that?”

“Well…”

“Did. I. Say. That.”

“…no?”

Undeniably, sassy, he would splay out his arms in a “see??” type of motion. Waiting rather impatiently for you to continue on so he could relax to the sound of his lovers soothing voice while pretending to be impartial to it all.

Toji

This prick.

He wouldn’t do a thing lol

This man would let you assume he isn’t listening, let you think he’s off somewhere else, let you think he’s checked out.

But that could not be more wrong.

Maybe he’s eating his lunch, or watching tv, or texting someone. Whatever the case, there’s nothing he’s more locked into than your words.

In fact, it would take you a while into your relationship for you to realize this, but sometimes you would have to be careful around Toji because once you said something, this man would remember it forever.

You probably wouldn’t even think about it when you stopped talking, deciding to put your efforts into something else. But Toji would notice.

He wouldn’t bring it up though, not for days. But eventually he would crack the conversation back again, flipping the newspaper over and avoiding your eyes.

You would spin around on him, wondering how he even knew the things he was talking about. Then it would hit you.

“Wait… you were listening?”

He would scoff, elbows on the table, finally looking at you over his reading glasses. “Excuse me?” He would point an accusatory finger at you and set down the paper. “Was I listening?”

You would gape at him open mouthed, “Well… how was I supposed to know?”

He would roll his eyes in the most dramatic of fashions, getting up from the kitchen table to stroll over to you. “Please,” he would groan, grazing a knuckle over your neck,

“You’ve always got my attention.”

Yuuji

One might think this would happen early on in the relationship but I would argue this situation would happen after years together.

Why? Well, Yuuji is a super excitable guy, he also just loves talking to you. You both make a great pair because the two of you always converse in a way suitable to each other.

For example, sometimes you’d interrupt one another, never in a rude way, but in a way that shows passion about the topic at hand. That would bring on a whole new discussion and keep the conversation flowing.

Yuuji was a great listener when he needed to be but mainly he was a great conversationalist. Neither of you needed to do heavy lifting when you talked. It was great!

After awhile though, the two of you would become more and more comfortable around one another and more accustomed to the way you spoke.

That’s why it was so weird to see him less active in a conversation. He wasn’t interjecting with his little agreements or experiences. He would still be looking at you, but it was different.

It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he might just be uninterested in the topic so you would get all quiet, focusing on something else until he spoke up.

“No, keep talking.”

Grinning at you, he looked just like he always did.

“You’re not bored?”

He would squint, confused at the notion, “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you just seem a little quiet I guess.”

But he would just smile at you, “I don’t know what it is… but recently I’ve been liking just admiring you.”

He would say things like that out of the blue all the time by the way.

“Yuuuuujiiiii” you would groan.

“What? Doesn’t mean I’m not listening!”

Megumi

Inversely to Yuuji, this would happen with Megumi early on in y’all’s relationship, likely pre-relationship when the two of you were just getting to know one another.

Megumi wasn’t really shy at all, he was more reserved, even though you weren’t all that talkative, he could still unintentionally make you feel like a blabbermouth at times.

The two of you would probably have been out on a walk together, or maybe in the cafeteria getting lunch, wherever, you would have been sharing some piece of yourself with him.

It would also probably have been a long time since he had spoke up. Sometimes he wouldn’t even give listening cues so it’s not too unusual to suppose that he was checked out.

Megumi was NOT checked out though. He was filing every little word you said away into his brain, and thinking of the best way to respond to you.

You might not know this though, so after awhile you might get all shy, suddenly looking off, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Embarrassed that he hadn’t heard a word, that’s when he would turn to you,

“I’m listening.”

Simple as that.

Reassuring but not overly affectionate.

He would do it in public and in private. If you were in a group and he could tell your confidence was slipping he would jump in to let you know that he cared about your thoughts and opinions.

And like in this instance when it was just the two of you, he might reach over to grab your hand, letting you know,

“I’m still here.”

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.