#aaa sorry i fell behind

[incorrecthatchetfield]

Paul: Richie is everything ok?

Richie: Yes, Paul. I just saw a spoiler for Monster Slayer Academia.

Paul: I will never understand anime.

[celestie0]

choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

.

.

.

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown. 

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!” 

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!” 

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music. 

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic. 

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like  “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex. 

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair. 

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours. 

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage. 

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder. 

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage. 

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it. 

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants. 

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”  

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there. 

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.” 

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?” 

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex. 

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface. 

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition. 

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving. 

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.  

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot. 

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering. 

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of. 

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest. 

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in. 

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast. 

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment. 

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all. 

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again.  His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you. 

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.” 

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous. 

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough. 

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.” 

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush. 

.

.

.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out. 

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day. 

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized. 

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

.

.

.

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

[n0tamused]

idk if i can request but —

What about ratio with a reader who is always sleepy but refuses to sleep on time? (Technically nocturnal reader haha)

Like; he’d be home from the guild after a particularly long day and he sees the reader doing whatever on the dead of night

Or maybe when hes asleep he suddenly stirrs awake with music coming from the living room or reader accidently dropping a bowl in the kitchen, creating very loud noise!!

Would he scold us ? 🥲

Feel free to ignore this if you want!! 🫶

A/n: Sorry for taking so long but I do hope you enjoy this little drabble! <3 I am slowly working on the requests aaa I feel like Ratio would definitely be prone to scolding you for this behavior, but he'd try to encourage you to go to bed early by dragging you to his nightly routine with him. You just gotta sleep after it, there's no choice bro. Try saying no to sleep around him I dare you

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN reader, nocturnal reader that overworks themselves, fluff.

Long sighs of night air send satisfying shivers down Veritas’ back as he trudges his way forth through the swallowing darkness, reminded once more that his bedtime schedule had long since been lost with the sudden trip the Guild had set him up to. Yet, in the moment, he couldn’t even be irritated as the breeze felt most pleasant to his tired body and mind. 

In long strides he reached the front door, his hands fiddling with the keys while he reached up with the other hand to rub the bridge of his nose, his fingertips soothing down the edges and beneath his eyes with soothing pressure. Light poured out of the hall and onto the welcome mat, illuminated the sudden ridge between his brows that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere. One glance at the clock reminded him of the time - 01:26 AM. The lights were off during these hours, generally speaking.

Veritas sighed softly, his jaw clenched as he took off his shoes and stalked over to the office room which you were currently occupying, big black headphones over your ears not allowing you to hear his approach. The door was left open, and as Veritas wordlessly made his way inside, he spotted an empty cup beside you and he heard the aggressive scribbling of pen on paper before he even saw you holding it.

Glancing down at the trashcan, he found it oddly full with crumbled balls of torn paper sheets and sticky notes. He dreaded guessing how long you were here for, but he could practically feel the stress oozing off of you in long heavy coats. 

Startling you seemed unavoidable even as he tried to gently tap you on the shoulder, his warm palm soon pressing onto it to stop you from jumping from your chair. The contact made you gasp and spin around, accidentally drawing a sharp diagonal line down your paper. The color that was so quick to drain from your face slowly began to seep back in through your eyes as you recognized the man now hovering behind you, and a sigh fell from your lips in pure relief. “Oh, Veritas- it’s you!.. Did you just get back? I do apologize, I didn’t hear you” you dropped your pen, pulling down your ear phones to instead turn around and wrap your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed against his stomach.

He returned the affection by rubbing up and down your back, his other hand gently placed on top of your head. “I did. And I think it goes without saying that I am not most pleased to find you in this state..” he muttered, his voice softened from his long travels, but filled with a loving scolding.  “What is this? Have you not finished this already before I left?” he asked as he watched you pull away and look up at him, still a little hunched over and with your two fingers hooked around his belt hoop. 

“I have finished it, but.. uh.. it wasn’t good. I went back in to do some retouching, and I just kept not liking any of them” you explained as your previous soft smile fell, unveiling the bags underneath your eyes and the sagging of your shoulders. Veritas knew you were prone to perfectionism and overexertion, yet he knew he’d never get used to it and that he’d never stop scolding you for it. 

“These retouches- they couldn’t wait until you were more well rested. You do know they won’t run off should you look away from them for a few hours, from my office no less..” he grumbled lightly, his brows relaxing before cinching together as he saw you look away and turn to look at your paper, as if you did not hear what he just said.

“I know.. but I am finishing up now. I did make some of your favorite tonight. You can go ahead and do your thing while I finish up, and as soon as you’re done with your shower, you’ll find the meal warmed up for you. I’ll be done by then” 

Veritas didn’t even know if you were trying to distract him and send him off, change the topic or get him off your back. He shook his head. Whatever the objective was, he decided to play soft tonight and let you do your work for a little while more, to soothe you in some way. He knew how it was to be forced to leave work unfinished. Both of you were too tired for even simple banter which you usually enjoyed. But he made his dissatisfaction known with a heavy sigh and a fluttering of his eyes that fell shut for a few heartbeats. “Fine.. but no need to warm up the food, it is too late to have such a meal. I’ll go clean myself up, and then you will do the same. You need rest..”

There was no argument there, you knew, and could only look up at him and nod before he was walking out of the office room and into the bathroom. A timer like that would usually send you into a panic, yet now you found yourself slightly more motivated and even relaxed. This was Veritas you were with, your Veritas - not some rude client that wished to rush you and undermine you. 

Your finishing touches would need retouching in the morning, as you find yourself not completely satisfied even now, but you decided it was time to lay down the pen for tonight. And it wasn’t like you had much of a choice when Veritas stood at the door, towel around his waist. hair still damp from his shower and asking - no, saying you were done and that you should get ready for bed too now.

You slid out of the chair, giving him a hug as you passed by him in the door frame, earning yourself a soft scoff as he kissed your crown and sent you off with a few pats on your shoulder. He was eager for rest, but also to be in your arms. Something he missed the last few days. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @the-inquisitive-constellation <3

[seatangerines]

Hi ! Can u make a make out/dry humping session with Anton and gf reader please! Thank u 🩷🫶🏼

OH MY GOD YES!!! i think he enjoys dry humping the most and he gets off even just by humping alone. 😩 also posting this now coz i fell asleep while writing this yesterday aaa

You fell asleep on the couch waiting for your boyfriend to come over. He finished late in the studio because they had to record a lot of parts and well, you understand that because he’s always been working hard. You just woke up to someone caressing your hair and tucking it behind your ear. You were too sleepy to open both your eyes but even with blurry vision, you know it’s Anton.

“Hey love…” He placed a gentle peck on your temples. “Sorry i came over a bit late. Did you eat already?” He whispers softly as he watch you sleep. You shook your head as a response. “Shh… Still sleepy.”

Anton chuckled and sat on the empty space of the couch. “Alright, love. Come here.” He carried you softly on top of him with your knees on both of his sides and your head against his shoulder. This isn’t exactly the most comfortable position but being in your boyfriend’s arms put you to calm.

You could hear him talking but does not understand anything he was saying because you were still in slumber. Anton’s watching a movie while running his hands through your hair so he didn’t notice that you’re finally awake but you felt your boyfriend’s hard on pressing on your sensitive area.

And you could not keep being sane about it.

“Love… you’re hard.” Your breath fanned over his exposed neck and it sent shivers down his spine.

“You’re awake!” He kissed your cheek and tightly wrapped his arms around you. You can tell he played a movie to distract himself from the fact that his dick has been hard but didn’t want to do something while you were asleep so he’d wait until you’re up.

You rolled your hips to cause friction between your clit and his throbbing tip. “You’ve been hard the entire time huh?” He nods.

Anton whimpered as he tried to match the way you moved on top of him. “Can’t help it, lovey. You sat right down on me.”

Your lips found its way to his neck— the perfect canvas to create every shades of purple.

And after a few thrusts, he came on his pants. He came a lot, it even leaked through the thin piece of fabric covering your cunt.

He’s panting so hard, he hung his head on the back of the couch. “That was so hot.”

You placed a soft peck on his adam’s apple, smiling in between. “Even hotter if you could fuck me now with no clothes on.”

[castorfell]

Girlymatsu-san!!

Aaa I had sm fun drawing this and couldn't wait to post it!! I love girls

Some design notes for nerds under the read more!

Osoko

Her overall shape is mostly inspired by her hair shape, so lots of curves and circles

She was the easiet design for me to recreate in my style and I love her for that

I wanted to give each Girlymatsu a lil detail that nods back to the original Matsus (since Karako and Ichiko have pretty obvious ones) so I figured a lil red pin badge would suit Osoko's business suit, plus it brings a lil more red into her overall design

Looking at it now, I feel like i should have made her heels red

Karako

Mostly rectangular with pointy edges, she's a sporty gal so I wanted her to look like she had a bit more muscle on her (at least compared to the others)

Probably the 2nd hardest design to recreate in my style! I wanted her to look more top heavy; wider shoulders and bigger bust. Ended up looking at Danny Phantom, Clone High and Total Drama Island for references

I changed her jeans and heels to sweatpants and sneakers. I just felt like they didn't suit the overall sillhoutte

She's the second tallest of the group

Choroko

Her overall shape is a mix of straight lines and circles

I didn't really know how to shove a Matsu into her design. I thought about maybe stickers on her luggage bag or a pine on her fan but those aren't really part of Her, yknow? In the end I just decided that the lil parts in her hair formed the letter M and left it at that

Ichiko

Fell in love with an emo girl

Obviously her long hair takes up most of her sillhoutte. Very Stocking Anarchy reminiscent

Her hair covers one eye now, it just felt appropriate. Plus iirc in the anime she has a lil quirk of pulling her hair behind her ear

She is a classy lady so I gave her pearl accessories

Joan of Arc lookin forehead

Jysuhiko

Big hair was the focus

I had the most fun recreating her in my style! She's just so fun

Her bracelets and earring are Matsu coloured!!

You can't really tell here but I picture her being the tallest of the group

Todoko

Imma be real, I don't like Todomatsu and most things related to him, so I kinda halfassed Todoko's design

The hardest one for me to recreate by virtue of me not wantinf to spend too long on her

She is mostly circles, because circles are cute and that's like her whole thing I guess

Her skirt has 6 ruffles, that was the only Matsu motif I could give her

Sorry Todo enjoyers

[togenabi]

with flowers under the stars

inumaki toge x fem!reader (royalty au)

♡—Toge does his best to impress you, even when others might not want him to.

previous♡— [PART 1]

word count♡— 4.1k words (oml)

genre♡— fluff, romance, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— potential lovers to actual lovers, mutual pining, courtship, dating, everyone is a prince or princes, older brother!gojo satoru, no use of y/n, romance, very fluff, mentions of engagement and marriage, toge uses sign language, some characters may be ooc >&lt; pls forgive me

author's note♡— after rising from the grave (I'm so sorry this took so long! buT! I'm graduating! AAA) I finally finished the sequel to my first toge fic. thank you so much to those who have appreciated my previous work! now that I'm back, I hope you enjoy this as well! (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)♡

Exchanging letters with prince Toge occurred frequently before you finally met again. He talked about many things, but they all ended the same way: mentioning how lovely you are and how he wishes time could run faster so he could meet you.

Toge's kingdom was a week on ship and a day by train away, so visiting was saved for important duties or events. ‘Maybe I should ask your brother to appoint me an official position in the council so I can stay in the palace.’ He wrote to you once. You reply that he doesn't deserve it, since he wouldn't be working with the empire or its people in mind.

He writes back that he fell for you a little more, and you trace that line an infinite number of times before tucking the letter away.

When the day of the banquet finally arrives, Satoru notices that you appear a bit more lavish than you usually care to look during events.

“Why! My dearest sister! How stunning you look! And for my birthday, no less! I love that color on you, your taste has improved so much!” He suddenly gasps dramatically and loudly—so loud, that the maid helping you with your earrings flinches.

“Are those... the earrings I got you last year? But I've never seen you wear them! I would give you a hug if it wouldn't ruin your clothes!”

You ignore him the entire time he fusses over you. He looks nice today, you admit. His hair is styled down which gives him a softer aura, and his white suit with gold details looks pristine. A midnight blue cape drapes over his shoulders and flows down his back. It would be difficult for anyone else to pull it off, but you don't tell him that. Goodness knows he would never let you hear the end of it.

You sigh as you watch him through the vanity mirror, but he only becomes even more giddy at your silence.

“Hey, give me that.” Satoru says to the attendant holding your brush. “Leave us.” He says as he stands behind you to brush your hair. You stare at him in disbelief.

Satoru knows you love when he brushes your hair. Even if you never outright told him, it was obvious that you enjoyed it when he cared for you. But because you were embarrassed to ask him as you got older, he hasn't done it since you were children.

He's silent and focuses on brushing your hair gently. The moment feels strangely emotional, and your resolve to ignore him cracks a bit.

“So...” Satoru meets your eyes in the mirror, then winks. “You and Toge, huh?”

You tsk, letting your resolve fully break. “I should've known you would notice.”

He laughs and places a hand on your shoulder. “Well, he wrote saying his father wanted to trade silk from their territory, and that he would like to stay at the palace to handle the negotiations.”

“...Add that to the letters you're receiving everyday, and it wasn't too hard to piece things together.”

You groan and cover your face in embarrassment. You and Toge weren't exactly a secret, but you didn't want your brother to know until it got more serious.

“So what now?” You dread having to ask. “Are you going to tell me to call it off?”

“Nope.” Satoru says, smiling. “Besides, if you're anything like your dear old brother—which, you are! Don't deny it!—I'll end up driving you into his arms if I try to keep you away.”

His eyes suddenly turn serious as he considers his next words. “He's a good kid... Good enough for you, though? We'll have to see.” He places the brush on the dresser, and takes your hand to help you on your feet.

“But what's important is to know yourself and decide for yourself. Don't let anyone else make that choice for you.” He looks sincere as he places your hand on his arm. “Shall we?”

“Satoru...” You call him, touched. He grins and kisses your forehead.

“And of course, if you end up marrying him, that saves me and the ministers the work of looking for your match!” You slap his shoulder, but he only laughs harder as he escorts you out.

The ballroom was sparkling when you arrived. There were already plenty of guests partaking in the revelries as the event had begun half an hour before. Satoru had insisted on the importance of being fashionably late. Normally, you wouldn't have let him actually be late, but you caved only for today.

“Entering, their Royal Highnesses, The Imperial Crown Prince and The Imperial Princess.”

As you descended the stairs with Satoru, the people bowed and you took that as an opportunity to look for a head of white hair, a mask or a high collar covering half the face.

“You're being too obvious.” Satoru whispered. “He'll show up, don't worry.”

He led you to the center of the hall. You were so caught up on looking for Toge that you had nearly forgotten you were to share Satoru's first dance; as he still wasn't engaged. The both of you took your positions gracefully as the music started to flow through the air.

“I'll spin you a few times.” He was grinning. “Try to spot him.”

And yet, the song ended without you seeing Toge anywhere. After giving a hasty bow to your brother, you went on with your search once again.

Your eyes caught princess Nobara the same moment she did yours. You were about to go greet her when her eyes trailed off to something behind you. When her gaze returns to yours, she's smirking and it makes you turn to look at what she saw.

Toge takes your breath away as he walks up to you. He wasn't wearing a mask, or a high collar like he had been during the previous ball. His suit was pitch black and every bit as elegant as him. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his lips and you blushed when he caught you staring. All you wanted to do was to dance with him so that you had an excuse to be close.

It seemed that he picked up on that, as he bowed and offered you his hand.

“It's good to see you again.” You greet him. He kisses the back of your hand with a smile before sweeping you away to dance.

Suddenly nervous, your words get stuck in your throat as the beginnings of a soft waltz reach your ears. “I... tried looking for you when I arrived.”

Toge leads the dance as effortlessly as he did the first time. It almost amazes you how natural it feels to move and sway with him. He seems pleased to know that you were paying him as much attention as he gave you.

Not wanting to simply dance, you took to asking him questions. “Did your journey here go smoothly?” Toge nods.

“When did you arrive?”

‘Today.’ He mouths.

“Ah. I'll have to take you sightseeing then.” You grin up at him. “Would tomorrow be alright?” You get your answer in the form of Toge grinning back, and before you could prepare yourself, he twirls you around and catches you in an embrace as the song finishes with a flourish. A number of people around you started to clap, and you couldn't help but blush in his arms.

After settling at the less crowded side of the ballroom, Toge explains, ‘I also tried to find you. I arrived as early as I could, and yet you and your brother were late.’ He looks at you almost as if to scold you, but you see mischief in his eyes. ‘I thought that you might be by the window where we met... So I went to check.’

“Oh, I see.” You respond, a bit embarrassed. “I should have warned you about my brother's flair for dramatics. He tends to do that when he's the star of the event.”

‘Do you have any remaining commitments here at the ball?’

That makes you think for a moment. “No, Satoru's the one the people want to bother today. Why?”

Toge gives you a look that makes you want to agree to almost anything he asks. ‘Will you allow me to whisk you away?’

And so you were both running, hand-in-hand and laughing, on your way to that secluded hall with the stained glass window. It shouldn't have been possible, but it felt more magical than before to be with him here again.

Toge slows his steps when you both reach the window. You realize that despite coming to cherish this place, you never sought it out when he wasn't around. Something tells you that would have only made you miss him more.

Looking at you with a serious expression, he begins to sign, ‘I know I have been very upfront about myself caring about you... But I want to ask this properly, because you deserve nothing less than the best.’

‘I would like—if it is alright with you, to formally court you.’

The smile on your face glows before you can help it, and you throw your arms around him.

“I would very much like that as well, my dear prince.” You lean to kiss his cheek.

Toge looks dazed and happy as if drunk on something you had given him. Maybe he was.

The moonlight shining through the glass paints him in a kaleidoscope of colors. Before, the only colors on him were the purple hues in his eyes. And now he stood before you, bright and shining.

‘You look beautiful.’

He took the words right out of your mouth.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

Satoru came to find you the day after the banquet. Naturally, he entered your office without knocking, and unceremoniously dropped a heavy document in front of the one you were already working on.

“What's this?”

“Toge's proposal...”

The floor seemed to sink, your heart and your breath gone along with it. “What?”

“—for the trade negotiations.”

It took everything in your power to not throw the block of papers at him. “You're unbelievable.”

Satoru only hummed. “So is your boyfriend. I can't believe he's making me work right after my birthday! He should be kissing up to me, not giving me paperwork!”

“Last time I checked, he's courting me. Not you.” Nevertheless, you take a few moments to sift through the document. It was very detailed and efficient. You note that the length of the proposal was due to the many alternative plans Toge had prepared. This would certainly help the negotiations go smoothly. Satoru and the ministers merely had to look at the options.

Looking back to your brother, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. What was he complaining about, when all he had to do was select the best plan and tweak where it was necessary?

“We're to begin the negotiations in two days. I think his plans have potential—” You couldn't help but snort at that, from what you'd seen, Toge was already excellent. (You were not biased. Not at all.) “But, I don't think the older ministers will be kind to someone who acts like a know-it-all.”

“Toge doesn't—”

“A-ah,” Satoru waves a finger at you, as if you were a child being told what you did wrong. You scowl at him but he ignores it. “This will be a test for him, to see if he's able to win against those old goons.”

“You mean yourself, then?” His expression drops at that, and you don't bother to hide how satisfied that made you feel.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

As the weeks flew by, Toge ended up being a lot more busy than you both anticipated. Despite officially dating, lunches together turned to having tea during breaks; then that turned to catching him in the hallway for a few moments before he had to go.

You didn't understand why his workload only seemed to grow, no matter how much effort he put in. Once, when you caught him just before he entered his chambers, you had asked him if anything was going wrong with the negotiations.

Toge looked exhausted, and yet he gave you a smile that made your heart melt. ‘No, the talks are going well, I suppose I'm just having trouble adjusting to the empire's work culture.’

You must have looked unconvinced, because Toge suddenly leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. Mischievously, he stared into your eyes until you were too flustered to be worried anymore. He laughed when you had to push him away.

That night, he bid you farewell with a kiss to your cheek.

‘Good night, darling.’

The next time you had Toge to yourself for an entire day, it was due to a holiday celebration. Everyone was too occupied with the festivities to work. You were supposed to be at another banquet Satoru had hosted, but you were determined to monopolize Toge's time today.

So you showed up at his door at the earliest respectable hour of the morning, dressed for warm weather and a picnic basket in your hand.

“Will you allow me to whisk you away?” You asked when he answered the door.

You took him on a tour of the parts of the palace he hasn't seen yet. Your office, the private library, and even some of the secret passage ways. His eyes lit up with curiosity when you showed him one behind a portrait.

You had lunch in the gardens, under a tree that offers wonderful shade. A soft blanket laid across the grass, with a spread of the empire's specialty dishes arranged all over it.

“This one,” You show Toge a cookie with flowers piped on top. “Has been my favorite since I was a child. It has just the perfect amount of sweetness, and goes beautifully with tea.”

You move to hand Toge the cookie, but he doesn't take it. Confused, you're about to ask him if anything was wrong when he leans forward and opens his mouth expectantly.

Wordlessly, you raise the cookie to his lips. The moment feels oddly intimate as he takes a bite without removing his gaze from yours.

Toge hums and moves his hands to sign, ‘It's indeed delicious.’ He leans to you and opens his mouth again.

You push the half-eaten cookie into his hands and turn away to hide your blush. “If you're able to tell me what you think about it, you can eat it yourself.”

He breathes out a laugh. Smirking at you while he chews the remaining cookie.

It was so peaceful, just sitting there with him. And it seemed as though you weren't the only one who wanted to sit with Toge. A tiny white butterfly fluttered about before landing on his knee. He looked so enchanted by it. Staring close, but being careful that he didn't move his knee or disturbed it.

The butterfly flying away made you want to explore too. Getting yourself up, you look over your shoulder and gesture for him to follow. He offers you his arm once he catches up, and you rest your hand on it. Birds chirp and leaves rustle in the wind as you walk towards the shimmering lake at the edge of the gardens.

Bracing yourself on Toge's arm, you kick your shoes off. You set them aside to dip your toes into the water. “It's so refreshing!”

Toge feels his chest grow as warm as the sunlight kisses your cheeks. He gets down on one knee to untie his shoes when he's abruptly hit by a splash of water. Flabbergasted, he looks up at you, blinking away the water droplets in his lashes.

Of course, Toge isn't one to back down from a challenge. The result is the both of you shivering and drenched by the time the sun has set. Your maids fuss all over you when you get back to the palace, and the other staff almost faint at the puddles that trail after you and Toge.

It was useless to insist that you could walk alone and that you both should get cleaned up at the soonest. Toge didn't leave your side until you entered your chambers, your gazes only being broken by the door once it closed.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

You got the most dreadful fever after that day with Toge. Satoru, wanting you to rest properly, made you swear not to lift a finger for work related reasons until you got better. Which, you followed without complaint. You took a break for a few days.

Toge did his best to see you, but he only got busier. His eyes looked more and more tired, dark circles under them when you caught him in the library one morning. He stayed there to work overnight. You were barely able to convince him to rest.

On another night, one of your maids caught him trying to sneak in your room, screaming and kicking him out. You could have sworn half the palace had woken up to that, and you couldn't help but hide under your sheets due to the embarrassment.

What irritates you most, however, was that the first thing you heard when you get back is, “Oh. Finally decided to return to your duties, eh?” from a delegate who spent most of his time gossiping, and whose biggest contribution to the empire was refilling the inkwells in the conference room...

The conference room has five inkwells.

Those ministers and court members were proving more and more to be nuisances. You gave them an earful when they had assumed you were slacking off when you were sick.

Not to mention, you suspected that they have been making Toge do more work than he needs to. Even if he never complains, you don't fail to notice how some courtiers turn their noses up at him just because his kingdom was distant and smaller compared to the scale of the empire.

The thought of Toge being belittled makes you pause during work, frowning at a chart of kitchen expenses as if it's done something offensive.

Dropping your pen, you head out of your office with brisk steps. You had to speak to Satoru.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

“Overworking Toge? Why, dear sister, I can't believe you're accusing me of such a thing!” Satoru puts a hand to his heart as if he was wounded by your words.

“Maybe not.” You're not going to let him weasel out of this one. “But you let the other ministers and court members walk all over him! Is Toge supposed to just sit there and take it? He's a prince, damn it!”

“Listen,” Satoru leans forward, his elbows on his desk as he uses his hands while explaining. “The ministers are just a bit frazzled, that's all. They think he forced you to skip the holiday banquet, and that he got you sick. He's good at his work, sure. But in their eyes? He just looks like a bad influence on you.”

You scoff.

“Now,” Satoru interrupts before you can say anything, “They were going to try and match you with prince Megumi—”

“Megumi's already engaged.”

“I know, I know. And that's why they're planning on pitching you with prince Yuji or princess Nobara.”

“I'm already with Toge.” You say sternly. “And what happened to not letting others make my decisions for me?”

“As far as those old goons are concerned, Toge is only the third best for you. ‘For the greatness of the empire’ and all that.” It doesn't escape you that he dodged your question. “They're going to try to push you apart until you break up or get hitched.” He leans back, crossing his arms on his chest. “Whichever comes first.”

“Why don't you stop them?” Frustrated, you run your hands through your hair. “Tell them I really like him and that they should leave him alone!”

“Sweetheart,” Satoru's tone becomes deeper, and you hate how it instantly makes you shut up. “The thing is, if Toge isn't capable of handling this, or if he backs out of your relationship because of it, he's not worth your time.”

You stare at him, unlinking. The thought of Toge leaving you had never occurred to you before, and Satoru could tell.

“I told you I would test him.” He shrugged. “It seems I'm testing you too.”

Rushing back to your office, you grab a piece of parchment and your pen from your desk. Not bothering to sit down as you write: Meet me at the gardens, by the tree. Midnight.

You fold it and hastily stuff it into an envelope. Delicately melting wax, you stamp your seal onto it before calling for your most trusted maid.

Handing her the letter, you instruct her, “Deliver this to prince Toge and prince Toge only. If anyone hinders you or attempts to read it, report back to me immediately. Go.”

She bows, and exits the room.

That night, Toge arrived before you. You note that he has a penchant for being early as he reaches to squeeze your hand. He looks you over to check if you're alright, and despite seeing nothing of concern, he asks anyway, ‘Are you okay?’

“We need to talk.” You nervously purse your lips. “The courtiers, the ministers... My brother. They've been making your work difficult.”

He sighs. ‘You found out.’

“You didn't tell me!” You rest a hand on his cheek, absentmindedly grazing your thumb over the marks near his mouth. “Do you understand what they're trying to do?”

‘Testing me.’

“Yes.” A lump forms in your throat. “Satoru said it's until you give up on me, or if you... propose.”

Heart racing, your hands can't stop fiddling with things. His face. His hair. The fastenings of his suit. “I'm just so worried. I care a great deal about you, and I just wanted to ask if you're enduring this because you want to.” You bite your lip in thought. “If it's because you're sure about... me.”

You can't look at him. You suddenly feel foolish. You should have given it a night and slept on it to gather your thoughts. You should have—

Toge embraces you. Everything stops.

You take in the view of the gardens over his shoulder. It was dark, and there was barely any light save for the stars twinkling above. You closed your eyes and let yourself be held.

Pulling away, he doesn't seem as fazed as you do, if at all. He turns to you slowly, and after taking a deep breath...

‘Marry me, then.’

You choke on air.

“Wh-what?!” A warmth creeps into your cheeks. “What are you—”

He places his hands on your shoulders and stares into your eyes. He gives you a look and mouths, ‘Breathe.’ And you do.

Once you've calmed down, he begins to explain.

‘We can come forward and make a statement that we've been seeing each other with marriage in mind. Which...’ He pauses, suddenly shy. ‘I have. I've been thinking about swearing everything to you... Intertwining my future with yours.’

‘I know it's only been a few months, so we could have a long engagement if you want. For us to get to know each other more. And if—’ Toge's hands freeze, his movements are slow as if the next words pain him.

‘...If you decide to break off the engagement, I will not force you to stay with me.’

You immediately stop his hands, holding them tightly with your own.

“Toge... I wouldn't even consider this with anyone else,” You feel genuinely happy as you smile at him. “But I'm willing to try. With you. Only you.”

He glows in a way that reminds you of when you first met. His expression is soft as if he's melting, and he smiles at you brightly. You think of how lucky you are that he looks at you this way.

‘This isn't the way I wanted it to happen, but...’

Toge picks a small, white flower from a bush nearby. It faintly reminds you of the butterfly that had flown to him the last time you were here together. His eyes are focused and he frowns in concentration as he fiddles with the stem. Your heart stutters as he makes... a delicate ring.

He kneels.

You say yes.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

A letter from you and Toge arrives on Satoru's desk the next day.

‘Dearest brother,

Please approve this statement that prince Toge and I have been seeing each other, and that we have decided to get engaged. You will find the formal document stamped with our seals attached to this letter.

We expect your approval posthaste, and I will not consider any objections. Please let us know when you will be available to discuss the engagement ceremony.’

“Your highness, what should we do with these documents you had forged?”

“Oh. Hand them over.” Satoru waves a hand to dismiss the attendant after retrieving the files.

He gets up from his desk and walks to the fireplace. “I can't believe he proposed before I could falsely accuse him of treason.” He tsks and throws the documents into the fire.

His eyes find a framed photograph on the fireplace mantel. It was of him and you as children. Satoru was laughing after you ran to him for a hug. His gaze grows sad yet understanding... He won't be the first person you'll turn to anymore when you get married.

Sighing, he considers that he should be thankful you chose someone determined and true like Toge. But then Satoru grins.

“I suppose I can always mess with him as his brother-in-law.”

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

[dvrtrblhr]

omg hiii your Dimiclaudes are gorgeous and I adore the snippets of writing you add to the pieces 💛💙

aaa thanks a lot! i love drawing them forever, so i'm happy others also enjoy it lol

anyway, i searched my folders for a sketch i hadn't posted and i found this one:

and the scene that comes with it below:

As if to prove that point, while they followed the locals through the tunnels that would lead them to Abyss, Claude noticed that Dimitri was throwing glances at him and looking sulky.

“What is it?” Claude asked in a whisper. Dimitri glanced at him and sulked some more. It was starting to get annoying.

“You don’t think I can take him,” he answered finally. Claude couldn’t help the way his mouth fell open in disbelief. Out of all things, that was what bothered him. It was that kind of moment that made Claude very aware of how different they really were. “Honestly, he’s not even that big. He’s shorter than Dedue, I think.”

“Dedue, who is probably the tallest, biggest person in the whole monastery,” Claude rebutted mostly because Dimitri’s remark was so absurd. “Anyway, did I say that you couldn’t take him? I don’t think so.” They walked in silence for a while longer before Claude continued, “I don’t see why you would want to risk getting hurt because of something so silly. It’s not even your specialty. Or did you forget that you excel in sparring with a lance? That long pole with a sharp tip that keeps the enemy at a safe distance, remember?”

“Why are you so sure I’m going to lose though?” Dimitri asked, still looking offended.

“I’m not! In this stupid thing called fist fighting even the winner gets hurt. Now, if brawling is what you want, then go ahead! Just don’t expect me to cheer for you or kiss your bruises better, all right?” he replied, equally perplexed and irritated, then noticed what he had just said and looked around to see that they had, fortunately or not, fell behind the rest of their group so he continued, “What were you expecting, Dimitri? Did you think I would swoon at your manliness? I’m sorry, but that… doesn’t really impress me. Now, you want to know what impresses me? Your kindness, passion and sincerity.”

It was Dimitri’s turn to be speechless, it seemed. Claude immediately thought he had said too much and felt his face flush at his own corniness. Then Dimitri's hands were caressing his cheeks softly, tilting his head upwards so he could kiss his lips gently. It was the kind of touch that made Claude forget why doing that at such time and place was a really bad idea.

“You are right, I’m sorry,” Dimitri said quietly, still cradling his face in his hands, “There’s one thing, though. You are too kind, Claude. Kinder than I could ever hope to be. And kinder than I deserve.”

Claude wanted to protest about such a useless comparison and about Dimitri’s supposed unworthiness. It was something that had crept into their conversations from time to time, how Dimitri seemed to think he was somehow a bad person. It made no sense considering the effort he put into being as good and helpful as he could, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. He didn’t say anything, though, it was such a pleasant moment… He really didn’t want to ruin it with an argument, not even an important one he had been procrastinating for a while. And Dimitri was kissing him again, his lips, his cheeks, his neck. He might really turn to mush if that continued.

Then they heard the sound of footsteps and they were quickly pulling away from each other. Edelgard appeared by the corner looking sour.

"What are you two doing?" she asked irritably.

Golden Dawn, Chapter 20, Wind - Underground

[mrschristensen]

Ok I got a request

James and his baby momma who’s a nurse, with their six year old son, peaceful loving life

Frankie shows up at the front door after 10 years,

Frankie mistakes her for a ho and the commotion gets their son out of bed and downstairs

Frankie gets shocked by the kid and you take the rest wherever

Sometimes Even The Strongest Need Protection

WARNINGS: kinda angsty?/intense, female s/o, pregnancy, arguments, lmk if I missed any!

synopsis: After Frankie unexpectedly shows up to his brother's house, he finds quite a surprise... and it doesn't really go well.

-> note: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG AAA 😭 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! (I did change up a few things, like not specifying career to make it a bit more generalized, but I hope that you still love it just as much!)

WC: 733 words

"What the fuck is this?" Frankie snarls, eyes darting between the woman in his brother's kitchen. Judging by her swollen belly, she was clearly pregnant. She seemed like she was cooking dinner or something, since it was pretty late in the night.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie. I know that Jamie hasn't introduced me yet-" she started to say, but he cut her off.

"How the fuck do you know my name? Are you fuckin' my baby brother? For Christ's sake!" he yelled, his arms coming up and dropping to his sides as quickly as they rose in frustration. He was mad, clearly. "My baby brother's fuckin' a fuckin' whore."

She didn't know what to say or do, incredibly speechless. She never liked being yelled at by anyone, but she usually just held her own. In this case, however, she felt like the was an outsider, an invasion into their family. She felt... bad. But she shouldn't, she knew that deep down; she was his family whether he liked it or not.

"Mommy?" a soft voice came from the archway, and both of their gazes immediately fell on the little boy. He was six years old, innocent and pure, his eyes looking up at his mother's in both worry and a silent plea for the yelling to stop. "What's going on?"

"Oh my god," Frankie breathed, pacing around in his little spot. "And he knocked her up. What the fuck, man?! I leave for ten fuckin' years and my asshole of a brother just acts like nothing happens! And he gets some cheap hoe pregnant!"

"That's enough," a man loudly boomed from the other room, his tone a growl. She knew exactly who it was: Her husband. He moved to grip her by the waist protectively, standing in front of her and pulling their son to his mother behind him as well. "Don't you dare call my wife such lowly things, Frankie. And stop swearin' around my kid."

The two brothers simply stared each other down, as if trying to egg on the other to start up again. It was completely silent for what seemed like an eternity, before Frankie spoke up once more.

"Why, Jimmy?"

"James."

"Why, James?" he corrects, his fists clenched at his sides as unbridled rage spams throughout his blood. "This makes no sense at all. You never into any chicks."

"You didn't know that," he responds roughly, not letting go of his grip on his family. His family. His wife. His son. "You never even cared to ask."

"Y'know that isn't true," he started, but James held up a hand, silencing him.

"Get out of my house," he urged, his voice hinting at no words for argument, "now. Or I'll make you. We can talk some other time."

Frankie just froze there for a minute, and with a scowl on his face, made his way out the door, slamming it behind him. It made the child wince a bit, and his mother kneels down gently to take him into her arms and kiss him on the forehead, reassuring him in that soft lullaby of a voice that it was okay. It was just a misunderstanding.

He turned to look at the two lights of his life, smiling a bit to himself. He couldn't believe how he got so lucky to wind up with these two, soon to be three or more depending on if they had more. It was a beautiful sight, truly. She was destined for this, her motherly instincts never ceasing to astound him.

After she gently brought him back upstairs and tucked him into bed, she sighed and went to her own shared room with James, getting ready for sleep as well. He was waiting for her, though, and he immediately took her into an embrace, his chin resting on the top of her forehead.

"'M sorry you had to go through that," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You didn't deserve any of that."

"I'm okay," she replies, moving back to look at his blue-gray eyes that she loved to get lost in so much. "I'm just glad the situation is over, for now at least."

He nods slightly, "...The kid okay?"

"He's alright. He wasn't that bothered I think, he was just worried about me."

James smiles, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Got that from his father. Always protectin' mama."

[https-furina]

— i’m in love with you, sorry ! ★ | edition: kamisato siblings, version 1.0

ft. ayato & ayaka x fem!reader

content. angst, unrequited love (ayato), love without a happy ending (ayaka), hurt/no comfort, reader is from a low social class, closeted ayaka, secret fling (ayaka), rejection (ayato), arranged marriage (ayaka - not with the reader) both ooc because i’m still practising. — not proofread entirely.

archon’s decree. aaa here we are! the wheel said kamisato siblings angst hehe. i was gonna schedule this for tmrw but i’m posting it now <3

taglist. @ryuryuryuyurboat @soleillunne

✉️ mail received! sender: kamisato ayato

there was always this strange pull ayato felt towards you. it was something the elderly staff of the kamisato clan warned him about, shunning the play dates he would have with you as children, even if you were the daughter of one of their own. they couldn’t wrap their head around why someone of kamisato ayato’s ranking wanted to be around someone from a lower social class - you.

but yet ayato never felt that strange pull snap or tighten, he never yearned for you the same way that you craved every inch of his attention or the way he made you feel when you remained friends even after all the years.

one attachment added!

“if you keep burying your nose in official documents, you’ll look like one.” you taunt as you peek into his office, two cups of boba in your hands. ayato’s gaze seems to fall directly to them before it flickers to your face, a chuckle leaving his lips that makes your stomach do flips, butterflies fluttering in crazy motions at the mere action.

“it’s my job, y/n.” he comments as his gloved hands lower the paperwork he was holding, his eyes watching the way you’d shut the office door behind you with your foot before you approached him with the one thing he’d been craving.

it wasn’t your presence nor your comfort that being childhood friends brought; it was merely the boba. he didn’t grasp the concept of dating, not past what his parents had drilled into his head regarding arranged marriages and social classes, so the idea never entertained his mind, even when it was definitely entertaining yours.

you had been friends as long as you could remember. you don’t even remember why the rich kid from the estate inside chinju forest had visited konda village but you were entranced by pale blue locks and attire worth more than your life. he didn’t seem prejudiced to gaining a friend that day, regardless of how much mora you had to your family name.

you stayed entranced. you longed to be at his side until it got to the point of no return - it’d feel as if you was burning if you hadn’t seen him for a while. the people in the village rumoured you could create a new life for yourself, they were excited at the idea of his mora. you wasn’t; no, you was just excited at the idea of him.

“thinking?” ayato muses before his lips press against the straw of his drink, sipping at it as his eyes narrow at you in amusement. you scoff, cheeks flushing with warmth that creeps up your neck.

“is that illegal?” you throw back in defiance and ayato rolls his eyes, smiling.

“it is when you usually tell me everything.” he hums and suddenly the air is thick. tell him? if you did that you’d rather crawl to the bottom of a well in the village and live down there in the dark for the rest of your days.

it’s tense, suffocating when you suddenly forget to breathe. your lungs burn and ache for one simple breath and yet you can’t give it, throat tightening as you consider whether you do drop your feelings right here, right now. his lips are pulled tight into a smile, eyes tracing how you seem to be deep in your thoughts over such a simple thing.

it doesn’t occur to him that you’d ever fell in love with your childhood friend. the friend that your parents worked for so dotingly, treating him almost like a son when they’d pass him around the estate following his friendship with you. however more seconds passes until it appears to be minutes and ayato finds himself tensing with concern. his lips part to speak but you beat him to it.

“i love you. i’m sorry.” you finally speak, your voice meek when you can’t even bear to look at him. ayato’s lips close once more as he frowns. he’d rejected many girls growing up and you’d seen every one of them, yet here you were; clearly about to be another name to the list of women who failed so effortlessly to sway the likes of kamisato ayato.

“you know the answer already, don’t you?” he mumbles, his gaze falling to the boba you’d brought him. it was a weekly routine you’d both started, something he treasured even for a moment. he wonders if things will change now, “for what it’s worth, i’m sorry.”

you shake your head, trying to crack a small smile through the pain stabbing at your heart. your eyes sting when you force yourself to look up at him, trying your hardest to just appear normal for once. don’t let him know how much your heart is being ripped to shreds or how your stomach seems to have sunk to the deepest, darkest pits.

ayato can see it all on your face. he grimaces, biting the soft inner of his cheek when he realises he’s never been good at comforting people - how could he ever comfort you right now when he’s the one who made you feel like this? there’s an ache that pulls at his heartstrings. you are (perhaps were) his best friend, the concept that he’d reduced you to nearly tears in front of him felt almost as heavy as his words.

“i don’t want your apology, ayato.” you whisper, your voice croaking as you turn to leave his office hurriedly. he doesn’t get another chance at comforting you or making you stay longer when you disappear from his sight and he begins to consider whether he’ll ever have you in his sight again.

what a fool you’d been to think that admitting your lifelong secret would ever end up the way you dreamed.

✉️ mail received! sender: kamisato ayaka

there were words that would always be unspoken, no matter the amount of urgency they’d be ever have to be spoken with. numerous times you’d considered these words, she never explicitly said that the three forbidden words attaining to “i love you” shouldn’t be said and yet you find yourself biting your tongue and swallowing them back down.

to the public of inazuma, ayaka is a pinnacle of the socialite society. she cannot let it be faltered by her sexuality nor can she ruin her reputation if her secrets with you ever came to light. but maybe if something had been said or done, your emotional tethers to each other wouldn’t be cut with so brutal of a knife.

one attachment added!

her skin is as soft as always, she often lacks the ability to not pamper herself every waking minute of her days - it was something you’d always poked at. playfully, of course but you’d never had the time to be so careful and loving to your own body as much as she had. from the moment you’d wake, you were working to survive. ayaka knows that she need not sacrifice her time like you.

over your heads stand the proud cherry blossoms of inazuma, full of beautiful shades of pinks that dance to the ground in the breeze. ayaka hasn’t taken her eyes off the petals since you both settled under the tree, a woven blanket under you to ensure ayaka’s dress doesn’t dirty on the grass.

you can’t help but notice she’s troubled. there’s a glimmer of worry in her eyes and she keeps biting that plump lower lip she coats in a pretty lipgloss; the one that tastes like sunsettias because she knows you like the taste of it when you share chaste kisses in the pale moonlight, giggles hushed against each other’s lips at the secrecy of it all.

“what’s on your mind, love?” you murmur, a hand with minor callouses brushing against her delicate skin. she tenses suddenly, the light coming back to her eyes as she turns to look at you, a soft smile gracing her face. ayaka has always been insanely pretty, sometimes you’d questioned what she saw in you.

not only was you a lower social class than her but you couldn’t consider ever being to her beauty standard even if she would grimace and scold your words, mumbling about self love so sweetly that perhaps you do consider it.

“we can’t keep doing this—” she breathes, sorrow laced in her words when your brows furrow in confusion and she notes how your eyes seem to both soften and harden at the same time. ayaka wonders if you’ll hate her for this.

“what do you mean?” you cut off her explanation only to demand one, an awful idea in hindsight as ayaka makes a noise, looking away from you, “did someone find out- your brother?”

ayaka shakes her head, sitting her hands on her lap as she stares back at cherry blossoms above. she can’t bear to look at you, maybe it’s the pain in her chest that it’d even come to this but she knew it would. maybe she shouldn’t have played coy.

“they’ve arranged a marriage,” ayaka’s words sting and they burn when it feels like an arrow pierced your heart, the realisation widening your eyes that this couldn’t go on forever as it had, “he works for the tenryou commission.”

you could care less who he worked for or where, not when he’d ruined your sole solace in this damned world. not when he was stealing the love of your life from you, her soft pink lips and the nights spent curled up together under trees with a blanket draped over your bodies simply because she’d be dead if they knew.

but which part of this whole thing would kill her first? the lover from a lower social class, a sin to the socialite society or the lover who is the same gender as the shirasagi himegimi? sometimes you wonder why the woman who is considered a model of perfection in inazuman society had taken the risk in the first place.

“i love you.” you speak out, wondering if finally saying the words would make her reconsider. maybe she’d take your hand and swear her life on it, running away from the pristine life she’d been living but you knew these thoughts were futile. you just wanted her to know your true feelings for the first time since this fling had started.

“i love you too,” she means it, tears sparkling in her eyes when she gathers the courage to look at you, her heart shattering at the mere look of hurt on your face - she knows you’ll act unbothered now, only to release your emotions later behind closed doors where she can’t see, “i’m sorry.”

© https-furina 2023.

[brooklynisher]

Hey ! I think I've seen you mention details about how Boop and GG met (if I'm wrong I'm so sorry I'm . So tired) ,, could you maybe . Elaborate on that I miss them ....

Aaa

Right, so I don't think I've ever explicitly stated it bc the lore is really stupid, but I did vaguely hint at it multiple times

You remember when I asked you to draw GG in the backrooms?

I'm being serious about that

I don't think you knew, but that request was a lot more self-indulgent than you probably thought it was ;D

I'll give you a little rundown on the lore. It's a little tragic, but not so much from her perspective. Maybe if she gains hyperintelligence it'll weigh down on her more, but not atm. I've been pulling together my thoughts on her so don't be surprised if this is a bit info dumpy ok?

Boopsy Doodle was built in 1923 by Peter Walter III. She was a prototype drawing bot. He worked on her for 2 years before leaving her to figure out the outside world on her own under supervision of course. Unfortunately, he looked away for just a second and she was gone. She was drawn by Delilah, the giraffe, not the wraith, but because her sense of depth perception wasn't quite developed yet, she fell to the bottom of the pit that contained Delilah. Peter and the Walter Workers scrambled to the bottom to search for her, hoping that they could at least retrieve her parts and repair her again, but she was nowhere to be seen. That's part of the reason why III doesn't have any kids. He felt really bad about losing Boop just before she could ever meet the other robots.

She fell into the backrooms and met GG. Don't ask me why GG's there she just is. But yeah. GG was just as egotistical, mischievous, obnoxious, and loud back then as she is now, but after a while, she realizes the Boopsy is the only real person she can talk to in there, so she puts a lot of her pride behind for Boop so that way if they are stuck there forever, GG doesn't have to be alone forever. Much less with someone she hates.

And I've never been a fan of the whole modernization of the backrooms where people added different levels and different monsters to make it "scarier". I think it's creepier at its core. But for the sake of lore, I'm going to incorporate the leveling thingy so that way GG and Boop's whole thing isn't just sitting in an empty room for god knows how long doing nothing. I wanna give them something to do.

So yeah, GG and Boopsy's backroom adventures. Eventually, they escape. It was by accident. They were getting quite used to level hopping in the backrooms so it came as a surprise to them when they finally escaped. But they were separated so that sucks. Still haven't decided what's been going on since they were separated from each other.

Also, thought I'd mention, I like to think of her personality as very similar to Frisk from Undertale. Basically non-existent through words, a little more noticeable through actions. I like to think that like Frisk, Boopsy has a very go-with-the-flow-like attitude. It doesn't matter what kind of world she gets stuck in. She'll go along with it and not question it at all no matter how strange it is. Which I suppose is more of a child-like approach to new situations more than anything else.

She'd make a great videogame silent protagonist whose personality is revealed through actions rather than words is what I'm saying.

But anyway

[marky-iplier]

Aight, writing idea. 👏

Wilford Warfstache meets William J Barnum. He accidentally takes a portal into the past and sees his past life unfold. As per a cruel 'joke' by Actor who tampered with the portal

AAA I may have taken this in the wrong approach but this one is kinda like that? in a way? I really hope so TT so enjoy :'3

Face The Past (Wilford Warfstache/William J Barnum)

 Jumping through realities was always something I could do. I wasn't sure how I was able to do it. The reality wasn't something people would perceive through their lenses, well at least through mine. 

I wasn't sure how I got here. The portal was supposed to lead me to another reality, but this seemed... familiar. A big manor, with a beautiful interior design, classy. Did Actor do this? How could he lead me here? I had no clue,

"Who... Who are you?" A familiar voice appeared behind me. I turned around to see a man with a mustache, wearing glasses, a yellow shirt along red suspenders. He looked like... me.

"Why do you look... a lot like me..." I put down the glass of martini on the nearest flat surface beside me. The man looked at me up and down, observing my look, 

"Where do you come from? How... How do you just appear in the middle of the room? I thought I was the only one left here," he stuttered a bit. Oh. A realization just hit me. No. No. Not this place again.

"Excuse me, I asked you a question," he continued. I tried to calm myself down before I slowly went on a full breakdown. This couldn't be happening, this man, the old me before all the catastrophe happened.

"Oh, William... I'm sorry that you have to get through this." The man was on the verge of going into full madness. If I interfere with this, would it lead me to this moment?

"I... How do you know my name? WHO ARE YOU?" I went closer to him as he backed up from me. He pulled out a gun and aimed it at me,

"Woah, woah. I do still have this habit till this day but I don't think adding the little fella into this is necessary." I walked closer to him as I planted my finger on the gun, and he slowly put it down, "Wh... What..."

"I know, everything must seem confusing for you but..." I looked down at the gun and back at him, "Everything is going to be fine. And the reality isn't as complex as it may seem." I could see the tears in his eyes as he fell to his knees, I turned around to see Y/n's dead body, cold, on the floor. 

The horror that my past self needed to go through, the grief, the confusion. I lowered my body to match his height, putting my hand on his shoulder, "I killed them. I... I'm a monster for this. I caused this loneliness inside of me. I may have gone insane and... and.."

"No. William..." I stopped for a moment, trying to gather words to convey at that moment, 

"...You are NOT a monster. This loneliness you're going through, it's not your fault," I continued. The words that I would tell my past self were finally delivered to him. Perhaps, Actor sending me back here with the hope of it going bad had failed.

He looked up at me and started hugging me, crying on my shoulder. I smiled softly, patting him on the shoulder. I felt something, inside of me... A joy? Comfort? I was not sure what it was. But this moment had triggered that feeling.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Can i please have Matthew/Hallie for 5. “What do you mean the cars broken?” And 13. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Worried/Protective Matthew is always my favorite 🥰🥰

This was so cute and so fun! Thanks Nonny 🤍🤍🤍

“Can you explain to me why we’re driving and not flying?” Hallie asked from the passenger seat of the Audi.

“Because we’re taking a road trip and that’s more fun.”

It was a pouring.

Not just rain showering pouring, but actual buckets of rain were being dumped down so hard it was getting difficult to see. There was hardly any cars on the road as they made their way to a weekend getaway, just the two of them. He needed a break from Calgary and couldn’t wait to spend some time together just them, which was something he could never get enough of.

She glanced out the front window at the sky, a swirling mix of grey and blue and frowned.

“This weather sucks. Hopefully you didn’t have any outdoor activities planned for this weekend.”

“If I’m being honest I wasn’t really planning on us leaving the bed let alone outdoor stuff.”

Her mouth fell open and her face got red “Matthew!”

“Oh don’t Matthew me. We have three days of undisturbed free time. No hockey, no friends showing up unannounced, no stalkers.” He said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes “Ha Ha very funny. I guess it’ll be nice to spend some time together just us.”

“Preferably with minimal or no clothing on.” He glanced at her sideways “Just throwing that out there.”

She opened her mouth to respond but the car gave a large lurch and then a loud squeal.

“What the hell-“ the oil light pinged on the dash, blinking at him.

“Oh come on.” He moaned, steering the car to the side of the road as it sputtered and stalled.

“What’s wrong?”

“The car is broken.”

“What do you mean the cars broken?” Hallie asked leaning over to see the blinking light.

“I mean we have no oil. No oil no drive. Fuck.” He shook his head and popped the hood.

“Where are you going? You don’t know anything about cars. And I don’t really think this is the kind of place you wanna stop and get out at.” She trailed off looking around.

It was true. The rain and fog made the area they were in look like a scene from a horror film. It was poorly lit and desolate, with nothing to be seen for miles.

“What are you scared?”

“Hey I’m not the one who’s gonna get murdered. This scene happens in every horror movie ever made, and if you get out, their going to make one about you in 5 years.”

He stared at her for a full 5 seconds before he shook his head “You've been watching too much true crime.”

The rain had slowed a little now as he hoisted the hood up and ducked underneath it. Hallie was right, he didn’t know anything about cars, but in an effort to see if maybe things were wrong, he checked the oil.

It wasn’t.

With a sigh he pulled out his phone to call AAA and came around the side of the car to open Hallie’s door.

“Hey Hal I’m gonna call-“

But she wasn’t there.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he looked at her empty seat.

“Hallie? Hallie!-“ he whipped around in alarm as she jumped out from behind the hood and screamed.

“Jesus fuck!” He yelled grabbing at his heart. It was pounding out of his chest and he let out a long breath as she started laughing maniacally.

“Ahhhhhh I got you!” She said grinning as she pulled her hood up and walked past him to get in the car.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He grumbled as he got back in, pulling the door shut and frowning at her.

“Oh come on it was funny.” She said still giggling.

“Yeah it would have been if you hadn’t had an actual stalker.”

“Okay okay.” she said rolling her eyes “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“How sorry?”

“Do you want me to tell you or show you?”

He looked at the ceiling in thought “How about both?”

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him but stopped just short of his mouth and looked at him “Does your team know you scream like a girl?”

“That’s it. I’ll show you a scream.”

[tinyshinysylveon]

I just saw on Google that Ochako confirmed that she is in love with Deku in the manga, is this true?

I'm really behind on the episodes, believe it or not I didn't even have the courage to leave the first episode. Yes, I ship BkDk, I'm following it through the community, you make me have hope, even though half the famdom hates this beautiful ship, I know there's a possibility that it's fake, I don't know, but I was sad about it.

I'm sending this ask to all BkDk analysis professionals, as you can see I'm a bit desperate, don't be surprised if you see this ask on other profiles!

(I researched more, it seems like everyone is against BkDk, even though the manga gives so many signs), can you explain it to me? what are the possibilities that BkDk will be canonized?

wooo i finally got time and caffeine to answer (sorry anon for the late reply!) -- i just realized you sent this ask to me bc you consider me a "BkDk analysis professional" and i am very flattered except i feel like i'm not one you say i am lol but thanks for the thought tho anon, so for you, i'll try my very best! ;;;;;

disclaimer: sorry for any spoilers if you decide to read on!

Anyway, when I saw that first question, I was so confused in the beginning because I didn't remember Ochako confessing to Deku that she's in love with him. However, I did go back to search it up and she did confess to Toga that she did fall in love with Deku (chapter 394) esp when Toga and Ochako had a heart-to-heart convo.

(i had to go for the raw ver. so that i can see what she says in japanese but it is basically the same as what it says on the translated ver. "...then, I fell in love with Midoriya Izuku and now, that's why I'm here to stop you!")

This chapter tho literally has togachako moments all over it! She was trying to reach out to Toga by revealing what her motives were and how they had changed from being a hero, not just bc her fam has poor income and she needed the financial stability, but for others (mostly influenced by deku) as well and that's why she's willing to even "reach" out a hand to Toga and listen to her feelings. (anon you made me read that chapter again and i'm in literal tears because i remembered she told toga she has the "cutest smile in the world" in the end aaa my heart asdfghjkl) Now, I'm not going to ignore that she revealed to Toga that she has feelings for Deku (even in the manga/anime, she's so obvious with her feelings by blushing, ashido teasing her, etc.) so we technically already knew from the start. It's just that she admitted it now, not really surprising tbh.

BUT, we have yet to know what Deku's feelings are in the matter or if he even reciprocates them. As far as I know (or I have seen so far), Deku literally gets blushy or embarassed around girls whenever he gets near them (like the time with hatsume accidentally landed on top of him) because he is still just a teenage boy with hormones who probably rarely have close girls as friends until he attended UA.

Please keep watching anon! Ngl, I actually had the same thought as you back then, but then I kept watching and watching until I finally caught up with the anime and manga. Hori does not disappoint when it comes to the BkDk dynamics, especially in the most recent chapters in the manga which I won't spoil for you, but it is definitely worth catching up to! I highly suggest you keep watching because season 6 by far has one of the best top moments I've ever seen that happened between bkdk. Also, a lot and I really mean a lot (bc I have posted a couple of bkdk posts back then when s6 was still airing so i read reblogged tags and chats lol) have even acknowledged that bkdk could actually turn into something special esp from the ones that were against it from the beginning. This means not everyone is against their relationship as you say they are. If anything, the people against it have actually lessened and the ones that are still hell-bent on being an anti are probably the ones that never read the manga, watched past season 1, knows that this is the top-ranked ship in mha and feel threatened it'll get in the way of their respective ship for bk/dk or just plain homophobes. I've never seen or recalled someone putting together a whole essay of why bkdk can't be together, other than, "he bullied him" or "guys can't get together in shonen anime!" or some other dumb reasons.

As for the other question, "what are the possibilities that BkDk will be canonized?" All I can say is anon, we just need to have hope for Hori to provide us that in the end honestly ;; Don't get me wrong, I love BkDk as much as the next person since I shipped them right from the start of episode 1 but I would still love it if Hori gives us a little panel at the end where they're working together in the same agency or damn, staying together as roommates under the same roof. He didn't even have to make it obvious, just make it indirect while us bkdk audience can fantasize about what's really happening behind closed doors while the others can think of it as them being platonic roomies asdfghjkl In any case, through my 'bkdk rose-colored glasses' tho, my answer would be a huge chance of them being canonized because of how much their relationship and character has grown so so much from the impact towards each other since s1, especially from Katsuki's end (i would love to show you the moments, but idk if i should spoil ;;;), but with the glasses off, I'm just really hoping it goes to that direction where Hori is one of the few authors that does it because I'm sure there are other shounen mangas out there that have their protags get together with the same gender, although subtle, but are not as popular as Hori's work.

Now, I would like to end this with a comment, please don't give up on shipping BkDk. You may feel like you're a minority who ships them, but we're actually a big growing community (esp in ao3 and djs) with just a lot of haters (mostly from the western side) because Hori gives us more of the spotlight and a whole lot of character development since the start of chapter one. I would say it doesn't really hit you for being proud to be a bkdk shipper until season 6. If you see it, you'll know what I mean because it still makes me tear up to this day ;;;

so here's to hori and to many bkdk moments we'll get in the future (hopefully in the upcoming movie!) and thank you anon, fellow bkdks, or prob other random but curious passerbys for coming to my boring Ted-talk haha

also here's dk looking at kacchan and kacchan looking away (๑ᵕ◡ᵕ)

[celestie0]

🪷 ALSOALSO just as I hit the ask button I just..thought about how utterly tragic gojo's life was when he was alive. Nothing but a vessel to hold power, a vessel used by clan structures to maintain the rotting society, a weapon that was seen as a threat or hope but never as a human with his own emotions or feelings behind. None of that was reserved for him.

I know people think Gege is losing his mind but honestly I'm not surprised they went down this route. It's cruel and absolutely fucking brutal but I feel like that's the whole point. To not be freed from the label of "the strongest" even in your death, to the extent that your corpse has to be used to win a fight or get an edge against the villian is a brilliant and cruel way to show the burden of the duty that fell on his shoulders.

If it's any consolation atleast he's with his most cherished people now. I did kind of tear up at the chapter because holy hell. His arc and entire character is genuinely tragic. Everything that has happened so far somehow showed why gojo was so deeply attached to geto and those three years despite everything that went wrong between the two of them. He had someone who saw him as Satoru first and not the six eyes user, who shared his burden and thanked him for his efforts instead of just treating it as something he's supposed to do anyway. It's not in the least bit surprising that gojo still considered him his one and only best friend, regardless of the differences that ultimately separated them.

At the very least his death was kind. To go back to the time you cherished so dearly, surrounded by people you care for, being able to be vulnerable and to finally be able to let go of that burden on you as the strongest. Enjoy your time now, you did everything and so much more to have deserved this freedom.

Man it just hurts ☹️ sorry for rambling but you know I never quit with my yapping

aaa do you mean you sent another ask too bb? i don't think i received it if you did :(

i know. i am so devastated by latest jjk. you're so right, he never had a chance to just be a human. always bottling up his emotions because he felt they didn't matter, he always upheld the burden of being the strongest for the sake of others. even in death, he cannot rest peacefully. i saw a really sad tiktok edit to phoebe bridgers song lyric "always an angel, never enough", and that RUINED me. he was always a weapon, and never a person.

"To not be freed from the label of "the strongest" even in your death, to the extent that your corpse has to be used to win a fight or get an edge against the villian is a brilliant and cruel way to show the burden of the duty that fell on his shoulders."

i agree. it's so wildly dehumanizing and i despise gege for going in this direction, but there is also a part of me that thinks it's an interesting direction to take gojo's character. the problem is, there is no window of light through the story he is telling, and it's starting to become too much. it's different if there was a balance of angst and relief, but to do such a thing to such a beloved character when we haven't known a single chapter of peace in so long is just too much. i personally cannot handle it, but even through my sadness i can kinda see the vision.

"Everything that has happened so far somehow showed why gojo was so deeply attached to geto and those three years despite everything that went wrong between the two of them. He had someone who saw him as Satoru first and not the six eyes user, who shared his burden and thanked him for his efforts instead of just treating it as something he's supposed to do anyway."

agreed, it's so tragic how things ended up for him and geto but i always loved the detail that he never truly hated him, he just hated the things that he did. it's so hard to let go of a connection w someone like that, after all geto was the only one to truly see him as a person. also this is random but people feeling bad for shoko when gojo said geto was the only person he truly called his friend sfkshdfkjsd after latest chap it's so obvious why he didn't really think of her as a friend AHHAH

it's so tough. even in death he simply cannot be put to rest. UGHHH why can't we just have happy things gege. i will go read my hurt comfort fics n cope

-ellie (insert frog emoji here sorry im on pc rn)

[ivywhowrites]

Hi hello, please can you write a fic where the reader is a Horde soldier and is a bit shy but goes especially shy around Lonnie as the reader has a crush on her? Thank you so much. :)

Shy shy bunny~

"And I fell, agian.." Kyle said to the two of you,explaining a story "my gosh!-" you reply,then turned looking at the footsteps you heard from behind you.. "hey [nicknameee!]" Lonnie smiled,walking to you three "whatcha talking about?" She asks you two

Kyle laughs "just a funny story that's all,wanna hear it?" You felt lonnie put her hand on your shoulder,listening to his story you blush,getting more shy then before,letting out a small squeak "you okay [nickname?" Lonnie asks you,you nod,a light blush on your face

"If ya say so!-" Lonnie gets cut off by catra "why are are just talking!? Get to training!-" catra gripes out at you 5 "s..sorry.." you apologize and start to get ready "psh... we just trained there's no point!-" Lonnie says,stopping you "yeah..." you feel Lonnie hand on your shoulder agian "i- agree-" you squeak out

....

You got back from an attack "bunny!-" you hear lonnie say,your confused till.. she touches your shoulder "did you getting injured?" She looks at your injured leg,you blush at the nickname "i- yeah-" you stutter on your words and lonnie laughs a bit, trying to muffle it "hey- it's not!-"

Lonnie cuts you off "could you patch you up,bunny?" You blushed,and look at her face that has a smirk that's shows she knows what she's doing "yeah..." you say and she patches you up "w..why the n..Nickname suddenly?.." you shyly ask as she's patching you up,lonnie blushes "its... nothing it just fits you,y'know?" You blush at the basically compliment

"Can I call you that?" Lonnie asks,getting worried its making you uncomfortable "it's fine,just.." you blush red,pausing "caught me off guard.." you smile at her,lonnie smiles "alright.. and..." she finishes patching up your leg "thanks.. lonnie.." you shyly say "your welcome,bunny."

Aaa IM GOING TO WRITE A PT.2 PROBABLY IF THATS OKAY I LOVE THISSS

[fourthwonton]

Fourthwonton freaks out over the Our Skyy x Bad buddy episode 1 (real)

Squealed at the very first sec of the preview(I don’t rewatch my top shows so it's quite helpful)(and I got the feels)

The preview really reminded me exactly why I fell in love with this world

Ugh great (rolls eyes) Wai’s back yaayyyyy

Drake is really good at playing himbo

Wait… are Wai and Korn continuing the feud’s legacy?

Really a great start… the whole show began when Wai was cornered so it’s fitting that the special episodes start with the feud too

The staredown lol rofl…. The BGMI can’t

Right off the gate with the expectation subversion I can’t with P’Aof

The students really need group projects to hold them off from fighting

Why is Korn praying like Pat and Pran have died? Or is this P’Aof poking fun at all the romeo and romeo clown theories?

Prom really is accurate with the tea huh

Lol WaiKorn trying their best to get them all off the right track

Going off the track but damn Ohm’s eyes really shine at 5:06

They’re back at it lol just riling each other up

Never knew bickering could be foreplay but here we are

Lmao the stark difference between on screen and behind the scenes(hah get it)

I could swim in nanon’s eyes(swoons)

Aaa dimples is back

Neck cradle seemed like a chokehold lol well, Pran does have Pat in his chokehold

I’m so glad that the curtain drop has been redeemed

I freaking lost it when the intro started to play

I love the parallel so much! In ep 1, when pat punches Pran and he gets a bruise for which he gave him a balm. Now, it’s Pran who punched Pat and he’s the one icing the bruise. Ok guess I began rambling

The “I told you to punch me on one cheek and you punched me on the other” never gets old

Also pa knocking the door when they’re getting up to something is always funny

And she has got not even a shred of remorse for that XD

INKPA!!!!!!!!!!!!

A brother always has to be annoying to his sister. HIA PAAAAAAAN is so hilarious

I love the found family dynamic of theirs. They’re getting dinner together! Ahh it reminds me of ep 9

Feeding shrimp to your loved one is always a win

Love Pa teasing them

And Ex-macho man Pat calling himself Nong is so funny

The moment Ink advised them to find a neutral party to help them decide was when I felt sorry for Ajarn Pichai

We really need more than crumbs!

Give me more InkPa!!!!!!!!

Is he doing a counting-out game to decide? What’s next, a game of rock paper scissors or an arm-wrestling battle between Pran and Pat?

I choked on my coffee when Pat said that Korn will play a dwarf

Ooh they have to get a sponsorship (evil Gru laugh)

Ooh Pat is sneaky

“Phuen khab? Phuen” and “Khab, Phuen”, very un-subtle title drop right here

Pran still has his high-school photo for his id

And we’re back with the crowded elevator(love everything about it)

I forgot that Pat’s sense of smell is as good as a golden retriver’s

Another rendition of just friend!

I don’t understand if Pran is trying to encourage Pat or scare him more

Also did he just say dog Pat?

I love their faculty pride

I knew something was going to go wrong when Korn mentioned downloading the porn

I snorted out loud at this scene

Damn Pran was really dying holding his laughter

Loved the lesson on perspectives.

I love the parallel to when Pat helped Pran visualize the bus stop

Aah Secret’s back

Nanon looks angelic at 13:09 part 2

Pat really be there convincing Pran for a honeymoon

Wait, Tian wrote a book?

The fistbump’s back aaaaaa

Pat really is a hopeless romantic. So sappy!

The fairy lights OwO

They really said me gustas tu

Pran really looks at Pat like he’s his world T_T

Fierce eyes became puppy dog eyes

Why do they have so many close kisses ughh

NONG NAO SLEEP MASKS!!!!!!! Soon available at GMMTV Shop pre-order yours now

Architecture students may plan an attack on me, but only elevators can bring me down

Poor Pran promoting skincare alone T_T get back here Pat!

Damn! Another eavesdropping misunderstanding? Please subvert this trope P’Aof T_T

Really subverted it in a moment thank lord Aof

Pran’s gone into plotting mode huh, I already feel sorry for Pat

He really saved Pran as Dimples such a sap

Why the fuck was Wai in there? XD they really traumatized each other

Really ran off to Chiang Mai to serve Pat a good bowl of lukewarm revenge

Really loving Pran’s fit again

Getting onto the wrong bus is so like Pat

No wait

I take it back

Making Pat get onto the wrong bus is so like Pran

Ohh Champ’s here!

Not the best thing to say in such a light-hearted tone, Yod. Pran’s already nervous about this

Pran really grabbed a walking cane off a fence XD

This is really the most crossover to ever crossover

Love the piano when Chief Phu turns

Did the sturdy looking Chief just faint?

Did Pran just shoo away Tian?XD

OMG Nanon’s just killing it with his eyes

The preview’s giving me life

Did the boys just strike up a fight between Phupha and Tian? And took it upon themselves to make them make up?

The top-notch face down is so funny

The way I cried all this time damn I missed this world