#but i generally get way better responses by saying this. there is the occasional very negative person

[alchemiclee]

me: this thing doesn't work. i'm struggling so much. I can't do this. this is bad. i'm failing. etc etc

friend: you can do it, I believe it you!!!

me: 😊!!!

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa General Profile

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, violence/mild gore, Sanemi controls your diet/comments on what you eat, mentions of physical and sexual assault (not by Sanemi though because he is Consent King™), my characterization of Sanemi is a little unusual I think but I stand by it, part of that characterization involves him being very sexually frustrated so mentions of masturbation, Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of reader being insecure/having low self esteem, kind of mind-break ish for reader, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 13K

DARLING PROFILE:

Honest 

To Sanemi, there is nothing more worthless than liars - with the exception, possibly, of demons. He doesn’t understand why one would skate around the truth, and in his eyes it’s a sign of weakness, of an unwillingness to face reality and to cheat themselves.

Needless to say, he wouldn’t tolerate a partner who is prone to lying, who lets falsities slip from their lips like it’s nothing. He wants to know that his partner won’t front anything, that each word and phrase that they speak is nothing but how they feel, their honest thoughts and feelings.

Trust means a lot to him, and because it’s so difficult for him to fully open up, to allow himself to becomes vulnerable, he’s quite selective with who he lest see the real Sanemi Shinazugawa, the real man who wants nothing more than for the ones he loves to be safe and happy.

He needs a darling who won’t bullshit him, who can hold his respect and take a slight weight off his shoulders by knowing that they won’t ever lie to him.

It doesn’t mean his paranoia diminishes in any sense of the word, but the sentiment is still nice - it’s pleasing to him that when his darling is finally giving in and telling him in a defeated, resigned voice that they love him too, when he’s forcing out a compliment that sounded wonderful in his head but strange once it passed him that the small smile and soft ‘thanks’ they give is real.

He needs to comfort of knowing that his darling is authentic, that they’re showing their real selves to him, and with each glimpse he sees he only falls more and more in love. 

Opinionated

There is no doubt that Sanemi works tirelessly to be as powerful as he can, that it’s his sole drive in life to kill and defeat demons. He’s a man fueled by adrenaline and hate for the man-eating creatures, and he desires a darling who is similarly motivated.

His darling doesn’t need to have a tragic past or anything of the sort, but he appreciates someone who is somewhat of a spitfire.

He likes women who can challenge him, and if his darling is able to keep up with him and even occasionally be better than him at something, it’s a sure fire way for him to grow interested.

He loves the idea of his darling being capable and independent (ironic, considering the way he grows to coddle his darling and let his overprotectiveness convince him that they’re utterly helpless without him), and a darling who’s able to showcase this personality trait gets him ever so slightly flustered.

He likes someone who can stand up to him, who doesn’t let him boss them around, and while he’ll want them to be complacent and listen to him once he has a more solidified role in their life, there’s something so incredibly attractive about them having their own mind and opinion.

He may act like it irritates him at first, butting heads with his darling and even occasionally complaining about how headstrong they are, but it’s one of the very first things that catches Sanemi’s attention and keeps it.

(That and, of course, the color of their eyes, the sway of their hips, the lilt of their voice, and myriad other qualities that make him gape like some lovesick school boy. Pathetic.)

Kind

On the flip side, Sanemi is also wildly attracted to a darling who is a truly kind person.

They can be opinionated, hardheaded, competitive, any number of things that leave them labeled as a strong personality, but it’s in the moments where Sanemi sees how truly compassionate they are that his feelings really become cemented.

He’s had to bury his own compassion and empathy down over the years, hardening his shell and playing into the character so well that it’s become essentially his real self, and to see his darling able to be so kind and loving to the people around them makes him wildly flustered and jealous.

It reminds him of his old self, and while that brings its own heavy baggage, there’s something freeing and so very calming about it, like some long lost puzzle piece is slotting into place because it just feels right.

And when his darling turns that kindness onto him, Sanemi’s genuinely at a loss for words. The first time they scold him for getting injured and help tend to his wounds, he’s already putty in their hands. He’s momentarily struck silent when his darling presents to him a small gift from a nearby market, the gift itself meager and not something Sanemi particularly wants, but there’s something about the gesture that gets his heart racing, flattered and unsure why they’d be giving someone like him something.

It’s a quality that he subconsciously looks for, and though he’d never admit it, it’s difficult for him to not notice just how kind his darling would be in the context of motherhood. They’d be great with children, he’s sure, and while he doesn’t want to bring any children into the world while it's still crawling with demons, he’s nursing the quiet, embarrassed dream of his darling carrying his children and heading a loving, large family.

It’s the stuff of his fantasies, the kind of thing that makes him flush and get irritated at sappy at is, but with each kind gesture and compliment, his darling only makes it harder and harder to not dream of it.

Brave

On many levels, to become a person Sanemi respects you’d have to be brave. He simply doesn’t tolerate those who are weak-willed or meek, and a darling who’s more willing to put themselves out there or stand up for others is extremely attractive to him.

His darling doesn’t need to be a risk-taker, but he appreciates someone is willing to go outside of their comfort zone every once in a while. This is especially true when it comes to interacting with him. His tough demeaner scares most people off, so his darling would need to be willing to tough it out and stand up to him in order to dig past his rough exterior and get at the soft, vulnerable side of him.

It makes him proud, really, when his darling does something that he deems brave or difficult for them. It fills him with a sense of accomplishment, feeling genuinely happy for them because he’s so very proud when they achieve even basic things.

He's extremely observant and picks up on even minute aspects of his darling’s personality, and so he’s very in touch with what’s within his darling’s comfort zone and what isn’t.

This trait is by and large a positive for him, however there are times when it becomes the bane of his existence; if they do something he deems stupid or unnecessary and puts them in danger he becomes very, very angry. He’s paranoid in every sense of the word, terrified that his darling will die or somehow disappear, leaving him behind to be all alone, losing just another person he’s come to love.

(Though, love is perhaps not quite the word for it – needs, maybe, or even adores, just with a sense of finality that scares even Sanemi.) His darling’s braveness is a double-edged sword, and once they’re under his lock and key, he’s trying to cut down on their ability to act on this as much as possible, not only for their safety but also his sanity.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS: 

Protective

As a general rule, Sanemi’s expression of his feelings towards you is rather indirect. He’ll never outright confess that he’s in love with you until very, very late into his obsession, and by that time you’ll have already been trapped by his side for at least a few months, already uncomfortably aware that he feels something for you, even if he won’t put a name on it.

He’s not traditionally romantic in any sense, and while he does harbor fantasies about being all soft and mushy with you, he can’t seem to allow himself to act on these desires, particularly towards the beginning of his infatuation.

(He’ll spend his nights laying awake, staring at the ceiling while his fingers trace patterns against the scars on his chest, imagining they’re your own softer, prettier hands, that you’re laying beside him and lulling him to sleep with your touch and soft voice, that you’re telling him that you love him and that you feel so safe with you, Sanemi. Idly, he wonders whether you’re put off by the scars – you’ve never mentioned it, sure, but Sanemi isn’t stupid. He knows you’re too nice and perhaps too intimidated by him, but he still bites his lip and wonders whether you wouldn’t mind them, if you’d like them, if you’d be attracted to them, even… And suddenly his fingers feel like fire because now he’s imagining how it would feel to have your lips trail the scarred skin instead and oh god-)

He’s not particularly overt with many aspects of his obsession, with a few stark exceptions – namely, Sanemi is very, very overprotective of you. Call it a result of a traumatic childhood and adult life or perhaps even a coping mechanism, but once his feelings for you begin to fester, your safety becomes his number one priority.

And really, isn’t it understandable?

Seeing humans get slaughtered on a daily basis constantly reminds him that you’re weak. Sure, he’s a Hashira and risks his life with every breath, but you’re you. You’re painfully unprepared to handle a confrontation with a demon, and with each new violent, gory death he sees, Sanemi becomes more and more aware of this.

It’s maddening, really, because he’ll be out on a mission and be just a hair too late to save some poor civilian woman and oh, her hair color is so very similar to yours – from a distance it almost looks like you. Your faces aren’t similar, though, and as Sanemi runs past the fresh corpse in pursuit of the monster, he’s breathing a sigh of relief because for the smallest, briefest moment he was almost convinced that that was you.

And later that night, as he sits down alone in his quiet, empty mansion, every blink of his eyes is flashing an image of you in her position, scarlet blood staining your skin and tears drying against your cheeks. It makes him grit his teeth, pacing around the room and clutching onto his sword hilt, muttering under his breath about how you’re driving him crazy and this shit needs to stop, I have to stop, this has to stop…

But he still finds himself dashing off to the modest room you call home, anger flaring when he notices you’ve left your window open, mentally berating you and promising to sternly remind you tomorrow to not be so careless.

Wide eyes peer into your bedroom to catch sight of you peacefully sleeping, and he sucks in a breath at the sight. You’re just so pretty – all soft and warm in your bed, lips parted ever so slightly, the slope of your nose catching his eye, the slow rise and fall of your chest.

(He’ll stop to match his own breathing with yours, palm pressing against the glass of the window, unable to stop staring even as he calls himself pathetic and a creep for watching you sleep. It’s just calming in a way he can’t describe, and when he finally forces himself to move some thirty minutes later, the cycle only restarts as he steps foot back in his home.)

His anxiety that you’re unable to protect yourself manifests pretty early into his obsession – and you’ll notice, too. He’s unusually concerned with all aspects of your health and safety – he’s always asking when you’ve last eaten, what you had, if you’re still hungry, when you last had protein or a vegetable or drank water. And while he’s trying to be as civil and nonchalant as he can manage, he’s still staring, looming over you and looking at you with an intensity that makes you feel so very small, your answer more of a question than an answer.

And if he doesn’t like the answer, you’re being dragged to his own personal kitchen, all the while he’s grumbling about how you’re so irresponsible, can’t even feed yourself on your own, meanwhile he’s already boiling water and cutting vegetables, having forced you to sit on the most plush cushion he owns.

And you will be eating everything he feeds you – when you seem hesitant, he's threatening with a disturbingly serious I won’t let you leave until that tray is clean, the calmness and sincerity in his voice driving you to immediately pick up your utensils.

Typically, his cooking isn’t bad – perhaps ever so slightly charred, but it’s cooked to your tastes and preferences (though he never explicitly asked about them), and he’s always looking at you while you dine, those wide eyes of his never seeming to blink as he surveys every possible detail about you.

(Really, he’s doing two things – firstly, he’s obsessively checking over every aspect of your eating habits. How many times do you chew before you swallow? Which foods do you start eating first, and do you eat section by section or a little bit of everything? Do you blow on your foods if they’re too hot, your pretty lips puckering into a cute little ‘o’ that makes him suck in a breath? But even aside from that he’s staring, transfixed, because just last night he was dining alone at this table, solemnly chewing at his food while imagining your presence beside him, fantasizing about the day when you’re eating together, perhaps even swapping stories of the day or complimenting him or telling him that you look so handsome today Sanemi, it’s kind of pissing me off… Just the thought makes him sit up straighter, unconsciously puffing out his chest because he wants you to be very, very aware of the muscles lining every inch of his body.)

And even aside from food, his protectiveness is apparent in the way he treats you – he’s always quickly gazing over your body, checking for any signs of cuts, scrapes, bruises, or limps, the surveying genuinely clinical rather than perverse.

(Of course, later that night he’ll remember the details with a slightly lewder twist – wondering how soft your thighs must be and letting his hands flex into a fist in an effort to grab onto something, even though it can’t be you. He’s imagining exactly how those nipples of yours must look like, imagining in detail the way they��d look all pebbled, the skin soft and warm and god, he bets you’d taste sweet, like some sort of heaven.)

He’s refusing to leave your side when you walk into town, always trailing at your arm and constantly glowering at the people around you, his excuse something related to checking for demon activity in the crowd – you don’t mention that it’s daytime.

(He’s always raising a brow when men approach you, rage simmering just below the surface alongside an underlying sense of anxiety and insecurity because while he may be the most capable of protecting you, the kinder, gentler man that calls you beautiful at the small morning market may be more capable of winning your heart. And so, when they get too close, he’s quick to place himself between the two of you, a scowl on his face and his tone a mix of condescension and threatening when he tells him to get lost, one more step and I slice your arm off. It’s protection, sure, because who knows what these men could want from you, but the small, possessive part of him is smug when the man scurries off, his worries momentarily quelled because you’re still next to him, not that stranger.)

He’s pessimistic about people by nature, always assuming the worst, and so Sanemi accompanies you every free moment he possibly can, acting as your shadow and impossible to get away from. It’s irritating, really, because even if you fight and bicker with him about it, requesting that he please leave you alone because it scares you to have him hanging off of you like that, he’ll only resort to following you from a few meters behind, blending in with the crowd but still keeping those eyes on you, hand always tightly clutched around the hilt of his sword just in case your safety is threatened.

He knows it’s stalking, sure, and he reprimands himself for his weakness and inability to control himself, but the moment you’re out of his sight panic is racing through him, his breathing getting shallow and his skin feeling hot because fuck fuck fuck this isn’t happening, you’re not gone you can’t be gone please oh god where are you –

He’s running as quickly as he can to check behind every corner, desperation to find you so potent that it bars him from feeling embarrassed, only calming once he finds you. He’ll grasp onto your shoulders once he does, his grip nearly bruising as he demands to know where you’ve been, practically yelling at you to tell him if you’re hurt, if anyone bothered you, if you’ve been attacked or if you’re scared.

It’s only when you wince or beg him to back off that he does, freezing up and letting his mouth fall open stupidly, before suddenly jumping back as if touching you pains him, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, disappointment and anger in himself for injuring you rolling through him.

He treats you like you’re delicate, fragile, breakable, and no matter how often you tell him – and prove to him – that you’re not, Sanemi refuses to acknowledge it.

After all, you needing protection gives him purpose. It gives him justification to be around you, to be allowed in your presence – it makes him think he might, just maybe, be worthy of your love. And no matter how pathetic it makes him feel to admit it, Sanemi would do absolutely anything to get you looking at him and needing him like he needs you.

Anything.

Possessive

And it’s palpable. Sanemi is many things, but subtle is not one of them – and while he may be decent at masking many aspects of his obsession with you, his possessive side is certainly not one of them.

He’s easily jealous, always suspecting the worst of people that approach you. The man that comes up to ask you for directions obviously has an ulterior motive, perhaps wanting to ogle you or get just a hair too close to your body for Sanemi’s comfort.

The older man that accidentally bumps into you as he walks with his cane may seem innocent, but Sanemi’s immediately scowling, eyeing the man like a hawk because many old men seem to feel much too entitled and much too confident in bothering younger, attractive women, and he’ll be damned before he lets some old creep harass you.

(A bit hypocritical, all things considered, because while Sanemi may be your age, he’s significantly more of a creep – the way he’s constantly following you, constantly thinking of you, imagining your smile and your laugh and of what he’s sure is a very warm and oh so fucking wet place between those plush thighs of yours. The old man would probably only touch you – Sanemi wants to do much, much more.)

And so, a large portion of his possessiveness stems from his own protectiveness. He firmly believes that no one else is capable of protecting you to the level and degree that he can. He’s a Hashira, unafraid to throw himself into danger for a cause he fully believes in, so why should he be afraid to put himself on the line in order to keep you safe and sound?

Slaughtering demons is still his life’s mission, sure, but somehow you’ve wormed your way in, too, and Sanemi finds it increasingly difficult to simply ignore how much of an effect you have on him. And even as much as he tries to deny his feelings in the beginning, praying and hoping that they’re simply temporary, it becomes very, very difficult to force himself to not care when he sees anyone else speaking to you.

And honestly, a lot of the anger comes from the fact that you have never been this familiar and carefree when conversing with Sanemi – you never smile at him like you do with this new man, all teeth and rounded cheeks and glowing eyes. It’s cute, adorable, beautiful even, but it’s also infuriating, making Sanemi’s blood boil and something ugly and uncomfortable press against his ribs.

Other men always seem to be able to more easily speak with you – they’re wittier, better at complimenting you, managing to make you laugh and smile in a way that hurts Sanemi to see. It’s painful, more than anything, and early into his obsession it’s moments like these that show him that no matter how he tries to convince himself that his feelings for you aren’t as strong or potent as he thinks, he’s wrong.

He needs you in a way that simultaneously frustrates and terrifies him. He hasn’t felt a connection and genuine desire in such a long time that he doesn’t even recognize the feeling at first – it takes him seeing you interact with men over a prolonged period of time to even understand the nature of his infatuation, realizing that instead of mere irritation he’s feeling, it’s something deeper, harsher, more personal.

It’s something that makes it hard to breath, his fists clenching and his legs feeling like lead, dread settling deep in his chest because oh god, what does he do?

He tends to act before thinking when it comes to you, his body seeming to react before he even has a moment to process what he’s seeing, and this is certainly no exception when another man approaches you. He’ll be quick to step in, but as Sanemi’s obsession continues on, he becomes more and more torn about his possessive tendencies.

By and large, he’s lucid about the nature of his feelings for you. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, and as time passes and his love for you only seems to grow exponentially, he begins to wonder whether interfering with potential lovers of yours is really the correct move. He’s horribly jealous, of course, barely able to keep himself from hurling the moment he sees you interacting with anyone else, but there’s something else there, sitting just below the surface and giving him ever so slight pause.

It’s guilt, the idea that he’s becoming unreasonably possessive and territorial over you when he really has no right to. After all, thinking of you as his woman makes him feel good, his chest feeling all tingly and his cheeks going hot, but it’s not really true, is it?

You’re not his – he’s just an admirer, a stalker who desperately wishes he could call out to you and have you smile at him, look at him, let him wrap you in his arms and even press a kiss or two against his trembling lips. But you’re not – and it’s difficult for Sanemi to rationalize that the longer his obsession goes on.

And so, by the times that he’s a few months into accepting his feelings for you, Sanemi tries to limit his interventions into your interactions with others to only situations where you’re uncomfortable or in danger. And it’s noble, truly – but the problem arises from the fact that Sanemi is the one judging when this occurs, deciding when someone is bothering you.

His mood plays a huge role in this judgement decision, his moodiness and however long he's been away from you or gone without interacting with you swaying his decision. If he’s been particularly absent from your life for the last few days or weeks, Sanemi is believing that everyone has ill intentions with you – every man that glances at you, even every elderly woman that compliments your eyes or your figure.

They all want you, and it makes him panic, growing anxious and terrified that someone will snatch you away from him, that he’ll lose you and with you every bit of happiness and calm you make him feel. It’s a panic response, more than anything, and he’ll immediately rush in, sometimes not even caring how you grow irritated and frustrated that he always seems to just appear, despite the fact that you have the situation under control.

It’s a mixture of genuine worry for your safety and selfish desire to keep you all to himself that motivates him, and you’ll notice a stark difference in his behavior once he’s got you stolen away in his estate. He won’t directly reveal his feelings to you, but his sense of ownership over you will become much more apparent with the way he’s always providing for you, giving you all sorts of expensive gifts and getting only the best foods for you, doing anything and everything to get you to like him, to get you to become willingly his and to show you that no one else could treat you as well or love you as wholly.

He’s a prideful man, sure, but when it comes to you everything flies out the window – he’s barely able to conceal his desperation for you, and the defense is so weak that you’ll spot the cracks immediately. You’ll be able to tell just how badly he needs you to admit that you’re his, his control over your life worsening with every day that passes because he simply can’t stand knowing that you aren’t utterly, completely his.

And really, would it be so bad to give in? There’s something romantic about a man who wants you so badly that he’s so hyper fixated on keeping you his and only his, isn’t there? Something exciting, something flattering, something raw?

Sanemi sure hopes you think so, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter – he can’t stop himself, and you will become his at the end of the day.

Shy

But in an extremely specific way – he doesn’t shy away from interacting with you per say, but it’s very, very difficult for him to become completely open and vulnerable with you.

He’s simply too closed off – he’s entirely unused to having anyone close in his life, his few relationships held quietly close to his heart and rocky, to say the least. (His love for Genya, for example, or even the comradery he feels for Obanai and his fellow Hashira, though he’s much more expressive than he realizes.)

He’s simply not good with words, often finding himself saying things he doesn’t mean or speaking with a tone entirely unreflective of what he feels. And as a result, he struggles with the idea of opening himself up to you. You’re simply too important to him – you’re his everything now, the woman he wants to protect and keep safe above all else.

And while he’s not deluded enough to believe that you can understand him simply by looking at him, Sanemi hopes and prays that his actions are enough to convey the depth and nature of his feelings.

(Though, he’s often unsure of whether he wants you to really understand just how strong his dependence on you really is. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t know that he can’t spend a single hour without passing thoughts of you sifting through his mind – a simple glance at a cloud has him thinking it vaguely looks like your hair, the shape making the corner of his lip turn up ever so slightly, his fingers subconsciously rubbing together and imagining the texture against his skin. He doesn’t want you to know that sometimes, when he’s sitting alone and eating the rather bare-bones, plain meal he’s cooked for himself, he’ll set a second plate, biting back his pride and quietly speaking into the air, pretending that you’re sitting there and entertaining him, nodding along to his words and encouraging him after a particularly difficult mission or seeing you getting just a tad too friendly with another man.)

Really, a lot of the fear of opening himself up comes down to Sanemi’s lucidity about his feelings for you. He has no romantic experience, true, but he’s not stupid – he’s aware that it’s unusual to be this attached when the two of you are really only platonically involved, even as much as he yearns to take things further.

He understands that it’s not normal to be so hyper fixated and concerned on your health and safety, always having a moment of clarity as he scolds you for wearing shoes that are worn down enough to hurt the soles of your shoes, or for not drinking water all day.

He’s very aware that it’s wrong of him to be following you home and keeping an eye on you without your knowledge or consent, and truthfully he’s afraid to see your reaction when you realize just how truly depraved he’s become for you. He's sure that you’ll find him repulsive – maybe you’ll curse him out, calling him a freak and a creep and even a monster for invading your personal privacy and space on such a regular basis.

(You’d be mortified, he’s sure, to find out that he often lets himself into your apartment during the day, knowing you’ll be at a friend’s place for the next few hours and wandering back after following you there, the familiar scent of you calming him immediately once he steps inside. He’s sure you’d be angry to know that he’s thumbing at each and every item of clothing you own, memorizing the feel of the fabric, running his fingers along the inside just to pretend to feel your skin, finding that this is the closest thing he can get to touching you. He’s sure you’d be mad to know that he’s picked up your pillow, hugging it to his chest and pressing his face against it, deeply inhaling and even planting a few unsure, rather stiff kisses against the material, wishing with a sort of boyish hope that tonight you’ll happen to press your face against that specific spot as you sleep.)

He’s naively nursing the hope that you’d by some miracle be okay with his more covert behaviors, wishing that you secretly feel as strongly for him as he does you. But even then Sanemi doesn’t let himself slide too deeply into that thinking, aware that it’s dangerous to become so detached from reality. You will be horrified, and he will be absolutely shattered to see the way you’ll flinch away from him, how you’ll look at him with fear and disgust in your eyes.

(And really, the pathetic thing is that while Sanemi will be ashamed of your newfound perception of him, he can’t deny that he’d be absolutely giddy to have you looking at him, your attention entirely on him even if it’s negative. And that only serves to fill him with more self-loathing, something ugly and heavy settling against his chest at the thought because it really is awfully pitiful that simply your attention is enough to have his knees feeling weak, his cheeks tingling and his palms growing sweaty because oh, you see him.)

And so, Sanemi does his best to avoid broaching the subject of how he feels about you. Instead, he tries every possible method he can think of to express himself through actions.

He doesn’t have much as a reference point, both his career and his comrades not exactly ideal sources of healthy, loving relationships, but at a certain point Sanemi becomes too desperate to ignore his few resources. He needs you to see him, to smile at him and acknowledge him, and so he bites his pride and awkwardly approaches Kanroji about it.

He’s not exactly overjoyed to be asking for her advice, but she’s the only one he feels has any sort of idea what you could possibly be looking for in terms of romantic gestures. (He’d also considered asking Shinobu, but he’d immediately crossed that idea out upon realizing that not only would Shinobu likely tease him in the moment, she’d very likely never let it go, constantly holding it over his head that the Sanemi Shinazugawa needed advice on how to woo a woman. At least Kanroji would be kind about it.)

He’s approaching her and asking as nonchalantly as he can manage whether women like men to give them flowers, escort them from location to location, cook for them, where women like to be touched (with a very, very quick clarification of not in a weird way immediately following the question), or any number of other things. And Kanroji, while suspicious of his intentions, is more than happy to gush about the small things that make women swoon. And Sanemi is hanging onto every word – pressing for details about what specific compliments to shower you with, what small gifts he should consider picking up on his missions to bring home to you, what tone of voice he should be using instead of his usual gruff, irritated lilt.

Sanemi is quick to try and instill some of these ideas into his ‘relationship’ with you – he spends easily an hour biting his lip and diligently searching through every single flower at the shop, his hands slightly trembling when he hands you the small bouquet, struggling to make eye contact as he quietly – and with something almost akin to a tremor in his voice – tells you that your kimono is beautiful, the statement almost phrased like a question.

It’s the closest Sanemi is willing to get to admitting his feelings in times like these, and up until the point where he steals you away into his own abode, these sporadic bursts of confidence and nerves will leave you with whiplash because mere moments later he’ll be growling at a drunk man approaching you, threats slipping from his lips and his aura suddenly switching from bashful, almost schoolboy-esque to deadly serious.

And once he’s been forced you kidnap you, this behavior mostly continues. He still doesn’t want to fully confess everything, but he’s trying his absolute hardest to make you as happy as possible – going out of his way to keep you comfortable and satisfied, guilt eating away at him and making him overcompensate by treating you like you’re royalty.

With time, he’ll slowly become more open to you – that mask will slip ever so slightly, bits of his true feelings shining through. He’ll accidentally let it slip that he knows something about you that he shouldn’t, cluing you into his behaviors revolving around the stalking and rifling through your things.

It’ll be the middle of the night and he’s suddenly jolted awake after a particularly graphic nightmare, half asleep as he rushes out of his bed and practically runs to find you. He’s frantic to check that you’re still in the bed he’s set up for you, his breathing only calming down when he sees your still form, a declaration of love, adoration, and relief slipping from his lips that you happen to hear and wonder at how he can be so sappy and whipped.

It’s embarrassing, more than anything, but Sanemi simply struggles to be vulnerable – eventually you’ll become uncomfortably aware of just how badly he needs you, what with his growing need for your affirmations and physical touch, but the process is slow going, frustrating, confusing, even. But please be patient with him – he’s trying his best for you, really, and with every rejection and laugh when he’s attempting to open up, the less likely he becomes to completely and fully trust that you could love him, too.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Sanemi has always been a bit more on the aggressive side; between slaughtering demons for a living and being a bit brash in his words in his personal life, he’s never been one for handling problems with delicacy, or even really diplomacy – when he gets angry, it’s a bit all consuming.

And when you get thrown into the equation? Well, Sanemi is a lost cause – his emotions regarding you are so complex, so overwhelming and deep that the moment he feels your relationship is being threatened, he’s immediately shutting it down, attacking the threat mercilessly with everything he has because fuck, he can’t let you leave him.

When it comes to romance and love, he’s honestly quite insecure; he knows that there’s no way he’s your first choice, that someone as harsh and rude and demanding could ever possibly be the one you desire. Not to mention the fact that he’s constantly putting his life on the line, the gamble he’s playing on whether he’ll live to see the light of day every night. And he’s not sure about the scars the job produces, too, because while he normally wears them as a badge of pride to signal his toughness and battle experience, he’s not so sure you’d share the same positive response to them.

(It’s such a constant worry for him that the moment you’re in his vicinity, he’s torn between leaving his uniform wide open to show off his sculpted pectorals and abs and simultaneously wanting to cover up, terrified that you’ll find his scarred and calloused body upsetting, repulsive.)

He knows he’s not the ideal man, but there’s a part of him that’s desperately clinging onto the idea that maybe, just maybe you love him too, that you’re just as happy being with him, that you need him as badly as he needs you. It’s unrealistic, though, and in his heart of hearts he knows it and berates himself for even entertaining the idea that you see him as anything more than an acquaintance (or a friend at most).

And yet, the moment that he sees another man – one that’s arguably more similar to what he’s sure your type must be - all reason gets thrown out the door. He’s gritting his teeth as he sees another man approaching you, talking to you, even so much as looking at you – it’s a threat to the relationship he’s precariously building between the two of you, a possibility for something to drive you away from him, the mere idea scaring the absolute shit out of him.

You’re his everything, the reason he lives to see another day, and the moment your safety is compromised (because Sanemi is absolutely fucking sure that that man approaching you with a flush on his face and wide eyes has intentions that are only bad, desires racing through his heart to hurt you, leave you crying and violated and so very scared) he’s immediately wanting to interfere, to break you away from whatever son of a bitch decided to come between what’s rightfully his, what he’s devoted so much of his time and energy to – you.

And even as he realizes that this mindset is detrimental, unhealthy, potentially irreparably damaging your perception of him, Sanemi can’t find it in himself to stop. He’s just too paranoid, too terrified that you’ll be so cruelly ripped away from him.

And of course, it’s also a matter of paranoia where your safety is concerned, too – he has no faith in your ability to fight, and he’s confident that if a bigger, stronger man were to assault you in some way, you’d be hard pressed to fight him off.

(A notion that makes him sick, immediately clutching at his sword and furrowing his eyebrows, the need to see you immediately making him spring to life, already sprinting to where he knows you typically are this time of day.)

And so, Sanemi will often step in between the stranger and you, regardless of the context. And while it pisses you off when it’s a friend of yours or even a simple stranger with innocent intentions, Sanemi manages to redeem himself because every time a creep approaches you, he’s always, always there to swoop in and save you just as the weight of your situation begins washing over you.

(And Sanemi is more than happy to play your savior – just the look you give him, so full of admiration and gratitude and, dare he say, awe, is enough to make him flustered for the next week, finding himself unable to fall asleep and instead imagining your face, clutching at his pillow and squeezing his eyes shut, small whispers of your name falling past his lips.)

In retrospect, you really shouldn’t have gone out for groceries this late. It was winter time, when everything goes dark much too quickly. Before you’d known it the sun was setting and you had yet to stock up on food for the week, making you quickly race out the door and trying to catch the last few minutes of vendors. The market was just barely open, the entire town feeling oddly deserted considering how early it still was.

As nightfall descended, the sun slipping past the horizon, you find yourself carrying a bag of heavy groceries and padding back home, grunting occasionally at the heavy weight in your arms. Your home wasn’t in the best of neighborhoods, the area always feeling just slightly ominous at night, but the rather depressing sight of your empty cupboards had forced you to venture at a time you’d normally avoid leaving your front door.

Biting your lip, you let the groceries in your hand shift slightly, letting the weight shift from one arm to another. Your attention is so focused on the cloth bags in your arms that you fail to notice the figure standing at the side of the road, lounging in front of a small family-owned restaurant that was closed for the evening. His robes are a dark green color, stained with something along the front that left it dark and greasy, a bottle of something strong-smelling in his clutched fist.

You hadn’t noticed him at first, but you suddenly go stiff as he whistles, the bottle crashing to the ground and shattering. Freezing only momentarily, you quickly keep moving, trying to ignore the way the man is calling after you.

Hey, get back here, woman, he’d slurred, even audibly sounding drunk.

The rather weak torches stationed every few meters along the street make it difficult to see behind you, but you can clearly hear his footsteps getting closer.

You can also hear the distinct lack of others’ footsteps, meaning you’re totally alone with a drunk man seemingly intent on bothering you.

Gulping, you keep your shoulders low, trying to curl into yourself but keeping the same pace, hoping by some stroke of luck the man would lose interest or give up on following you. Your home was only a few blocks away, if you could just push a little further maybe you’d be able to close him off at the door, and surely he’d stop then, right? He’d be too bored waiting outside for you, surely.

Hey bitch, turn around! His hand is suddenly on your shoulder, fingertips digging tightly against your clothed skin and making you wince slightly. He’s taller than you’d thought, something that becomes frighteningly obvious as he turns you to face him.

He’s sneering, lips curling up into something ugly that makes your gut twist. His breath reeksof the same sour, alcohol-baked scent, and as he leans in, you try your best to step away, leaning away from his approach.

Please leave me alone, you try, your voice sounding pathetically weak even to your own ears. He’s strong, you can tell – the dingy clothing hid his physique, but it’s not hard to feel the way his grip tightens, the way he makes an unpleasant noise that has fear prickling up your spine.

What did you just say to me? He asks, baring his teeth and moving to cup your jaw between his fingers, pressing his thumb against your lips and pressing hard enough to make you squirm, the pressure against your teeth making your panic only grow worse. He cocks a brow at your struggling, his smile creeping up again as his free hand came up to rest at your hip, moving down and towards your middle, barely passing over your clothed navel and making you open your mouth to scream. The groceries are dropped, your fear overweighing your despair at losing your week’s salary on a single grocery run.

You’re barely able to vocalize your fear before a sudden flash of white fills your peripheral, the pressure against your mouth suddenly lessening. Your body slumps down, falling to your knees on the ground as your eyes grow wide, your breaths heavy and labored as you look upon the scene before you.

The man – your savior, is standing before you, five fingers wrapped around the man’s throat and shoving him up against the wall of the nearest shop, Sanemi’s teeth bared and his own chest rising and falling rapidly.

He’s got his free hand clutched onto the hilt of his sword, and for a brief, terrifying moment you’re sure he’ll whip his blade out, perhaps slicing into the man’s guts and leaving him a bloody, mutilated pile of bones. Some sick, malevolent part of you finds a sick sort of pleasure in the idea, but your body is moving before you can even think, struggling to your feet and moving to rush forward and stop Sanemi from acting on what you’re very aware is a quick-trigger temper.

But before you can take more than a few steps, the sound of the Hashira’s voice is ringing in your ears. It’s low, gravelly, sounding as if it’s taking every bit of his concentration and self-control to not be screaming and yelling, nasally and gravely, the words clipped and uneven as his fingers tighten.

You piece of shit, touching women without their consent, you’re fucking disgusting, rot in hell –

It’s like a mantra, Sanemi sounding so very genuine and forceful, and as you stand frozen at the intensity in his voice, his words only become darker, more sinister.

Don’t touch her, don’t you fucking dare or I swear I’ll slice your head clean off and dismember your every limb. He grins, eyes going wide. I’ll slice off your cock, too, that’d be good, huh? Can’t bother any innocent women when you’re not even a man.

He punctuates this point with a kick to man’s groin, the pained groan he lets out only making Sanemi’s smile widen. You take a small step back, but Sanemi doesn’t even seem to notice.

Anyone who touches her is dead. You hear me? You’re fucking dead.

The harasser is clawing at his hand, whimpering and wheezing as his air supply grows smaller and smaller.  It’s at this point that you audibly gasp, covering your mouth with your hand and staring at him with shock, your fingers trembling and your heart racing.

That noise seems to snap Sanemi out of his trance, his muscles going rigid and his head snapping to you. His eyes widen and his lips part, the airiest whisper of your name falling from his lips, and then he’s suddenly letting go of the stranger, backing away and staring at his own hand in shock, as if he’s horrified by what his own body has done.

The man falls to the ground, curled up and coughing, but neither you nor Sanemi pay him any mind. He’s still looking at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish, mind racing as he tries to think of something to say – anything to say, really, because the way you’re looking at him right now is making his heart break, panic engulfing him because no no no now you must think he’s a violent killer and oh god you must hate him now –

He breaks the trance by rushing forward, hands immediately coming out to clutch at your shoulders, his grip noticeably softer than how he’d been choking the man. His eyes are searching over your face, glancing over every inch of your body, his breaths still coming out uneven and ragged, and Sanemi’s quickly swallowing, unsure of what to say but practically blurting out the words.

That wasn’t – I don’t – I’m not going to hurt him, I promise –

You blink at him, body stiff and unsure, but the longer he babbles on the more your muscles relax.

I wouldn’t hurt a human, I’m not a monster, I just – he was harassing you and I don’t even know what happened, I just started moving and –

You shut him up by carefully, hesitantly placing a hand over one of his, the skin contact making him suck in a sharp breath, gaze immediately zeroing in on the sight.

Your smile is only half-genuine, fear and adrenaline coursing through you, but now that the man has crawled away, cursing Sanemi out, you’re starting to calm down. You’ve spent enough time with the Hashira to know he won’t hurt you, and seeing him this worked up, this flustered and desperate to get you to believe him is proof enough that he’s telling the truth.

Stop Sanemi, I know. I understand. At that he visibly relaxes, his jaw tensing and clenching as he swallows. Thank you for saving me.

He pauses, eyebrows rising ever so slightly, before he lets out a deep, shaky exhale, nodding his head and stepping back, releasing his grip on you.

Good is all he says, still looking at you, before his grip rests once more on the hilt of his sword. He glances towards your groceries, before scowling. Are you stupid? Why the hell are you out at this hour to get groceries?

You bristle at this, familiar behavior making you shoot him a glare. Don’t judge me, not all of us can afford to have private servants cook us meals.

Sanemi scoffs. I don’t have private servants, you’re making shit up again.

You continue to bicker, still shaking slightly as you gather the groceries that fell out of the bag upon impact with the ground. Sanemi begrudgingly helps you, forcing you to let him carry both bags while he escorts you home, berating you for being out at this time the entire way.

It’s only later that night that you really truly think about what had happened, his words ringing through your mind because why had Sanemi said that? How had he even known where you were, much less that you were in danger?

You’re not sure, but as you slip under your covers and bury your face against your pillow, you find yourself brushing aside the odd coincidental nature of the encounter, instead finding yourself thankful that Sanemi was there to intervene before things got truly bad.

(Meanwhile, Sanemi is staying true to his promise of not killing any humans – though he’s quick to track down the drunk man, scoffing at the state of him. He’d fallen asleep, evidently, laying on the dirty streetcorner a ways away from your home. Rage overcomes him as he recalls the way this man had touched you, even going so far as to grope your most intimate region without your permission, anger and even a small bit of jealousy overwhelming Sanemi.

He'll certainly not kill the man, but he wasn’t lying when he promised to slice off the man’s cock – he wouldn’t miss it, would he? Besides, he tells himself as he cuts clean and quick lines, it’s for you. This way, the creep might not feel the need to harass you again, and might keep his filthy hands to himself.

And when Sanemi drops him off unceremoniously outside the doors of the nearest medical house, he can only scoff, turning his back on the bleeding man and listening as the medics immediately begin swarming him.

He doesn’t like hurting humans, sure, but for you? Well, the walk back to your home is short, and as he slips inside, standing at the foot of your bed and swallowing at the sight of your sleeping form, he feels himself visibly relax. You’re just too perfect – and as he inhales the smell of you, he knows he’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe, keeping you his.)

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Though Sanemi can’t deny the allure of domesticity with you, kidnapping you is actually something he is very strongly against. It’s a combination of factors that leave him hesitant to steal you away – he’s worried that it would permanently alter your personality, and he doesn’t want you to fear him.

He’s lucid enough to know that his feelings for you border and delve into creep territory, his penchant for following you and compulsively checking on you making it difficult to see himself as anything other than a pathetically obsessed man chasing and lusting after an innocent civilian woman.

And yet, he can’t stop himself from wanting you, needing you so badly that it physically hurts, and so Sanemi gives into his more disturbing urges with the clear, resolute promise to himself that he’ll never do anything truly drastic.

And of course, kidnapping you falls into this category. It’s the only way he can justify following you around, fantasizing about holding you and touching you and hearing you say his name. It’s the only way he can calm himself down when moments of lucidity and clarity come rushing at him, guilt clawing at his throat because why the fuck is he hovering over your sleeping figure and reaching into his trousers right now?

He doesn’t trust himself around you, and that’s only another deterrent to keeping you locked up and away with him. It’s like he’s not in control of his body when you’re present – he’s always looking at you, sneaking glances even when he explicitly tells himself not to.

(Even when he instigates a sort of punishment system for himself – he clenches his fist hard enough to draw blood or pinches himself too tightly every time he catches himself doing it, trying to break the habit. Instead, however, he finds himself littered in bruises and all sorts of crescent-shaped marks on his palms, his will-power no match for the way he needs to be looking at you constantly.)

He’s always gravitating towards you, keeping his body facing in your direction, just so that if you do something or say something he’ll be able to immediately respond, every fiber of his being hoping that you’ll reach out, that you’ll speak to him, that you’ll acknowledge him.

(Hell, he’s even lost control subconsciously – he’s puffing his chest out without thinking about it when you’re around him, subtly trying to make the deep slit in his uniform go wider so that you can see more of his corded muscles, clenching his abs tightly enough to make the definition impossible to ignore. He’s running his hands through his hair the moment someone mentions your name, swiping his bangs out of his eyes just to look presentable, just so that if you see him you’ll maybe, just maybe find him attractive and appealing.)

It’s pathetic, he thinks, and he’s terrified that once you’re stolen away by his side, trapped with him as your sole companionship and provider (an idea that does, of course, make something pleasurable and good roll up his spine), these behaviors will only get worse. If he can’t control himself when he’s still physically distant from you, who knows what he’ll feel at liberty to do once you have nowhere else to run.

He’ll never hurt you, he’s sure of it, but he really, really doubts that you’ll be comfortable with all of the things that his subconscious wants to do to you. He’s sure you don’t particularly want to be encaged in his arms while he squeezes and squeezes and squeezes, trying to get you as close as physically possible because he’s still irritated that he can’t live inside of your skin.

(But what if he crushes you, or somehow breaks your bones with the strength of his affection? It’s enough to get him biting his lip, staring down at his open palms and scowling, frustrated at himself because he knows the euphoria of touching you will make him stupid.)

He’s sure you don’t want him to hand-feed you, bringing the chopsticks up to your mouth, watching your pretty, soft lips open up and letting him place the home-cooked food against your tongue.

(And seeing you looking at him with your mouth open, taking something that he’s made and given to you against your tongue will have him flushing, swallowing heavily and having to look away because fuck he’s such a pervert and he’s ruining a sweet moment by growing unbearably hard in his trousers, and oh god – what if there’s a wet spot when he stands up? Will you notice? Fuck fuck fuck!)

It’s a recipe for disaster, not to mention the fact that your fear and hesitance would likely force you to become a shell of your former self. You’d be reduced to nothing but a skeleton of your personality, and that’s the absolute last thing Sanemi wants. He wants you – authentically, fully, as you are when you’re free and independent. And stealing you away would change that, he’s sure – and he’d never forgive himself for diminishing even a flicker of your light.

But of course, misfortune seems to follow Sanemi like some sort of sick joke – it’s only a matter of time before something terrible happens.

It’s a demon attack, likely. Perhaps some demon has noticed that a Hashira seems to hold a penchant for a particular human, and with his marechi blood they’re very, very eager to lure him out and feast on him. And in the process, you get caught in the crossfire – it’s rare that Sanemi leaves you completely and truly alone, but when he’s been summoned for a mission, he can’t exactly decline.

And so, he rushes through the job, quickly finding the demon and slaughtering it in the quickest, fastest way possible before immediately returning back to you, falling into the shadows so that he can continue to keep an eye on you, letting out a rather harsh breath when he finally spots you again, in tact and unharmed.

Except one night, as he sprints through the dark forest, he sees the very faint outline of your home and immediately his eyes go wide.

Your front door is wide open.

He generally thinks you’re rather careless about your safety, sure, but even you aren’t that bad – something is wrong. He pushes himself to run faster, harder, his breaths sounding more like wheezing as he descend on your house, immediately rushing inside and drawing his sword. The adrenaline coursing through his veins only makes him falter for a moment upon seeing his absolute worst nightmare – you’re on the ground, eyes slowly blinking and your body crumpled up, most of your visible skin covered with blood.

His nostrils flare, the sight of the demon crouching over you making his grip on the sword hilt so tight his knuckles turn white, something akin to a genuine growl coming from him.

Get the hell away from her!

He’s yelling and charging, immediately activating his breathing technique and beheading the creature before it can even react. His chest is still heaving, and despite the black mist that begins to appear on the creature’s neck, he’s immediately settling down, straddling the creature and throwing punch after punch. It’s bloody – it’s spraying all over his uniform, staining the white as his fists dig into flesh, denting and tearing and destroying, all the while Sanemi is yelling at it, cursing and calling it a vile, disgusting creature, claiming it’s trying to hurt and kill his woman.

It’s terrifying, really, and as you slowly lose consciousness you’ll find yourself feeling even more terrified, unsure of what’s happening.

And as the demon disappears, Sanemi slowly calms down, gathering his senses and immediately grabbing you, carrying you to the Butterfly Mansion as quickly as his legs can carry him. He doesn’t want to bring you home (or at least, he knows he shouldn’t), but once Shinobu has you patched up and he returns to your now blood-stained abode, Sanemi’s biting his lip, wavering.

He can’t let you come back here – not with the knowledge that you could be attacked again, not when you’re out of his sight and protection, not when you’re so very vulnerable. And so, he begrudgingly brings you back to his estate, settling you into the bedroom as far away from his own as possible.

(He’d refrained from keeping you in the room he’s spent the last few months pretending was your own, too – outfitted with all of the items he’s bought for you but been too afraid to give to you: all sorts of hairpins, beautiful weavings, flowers, even small, curtly written notes he’d been crazed enough to write in the dead of night when he just could not stop thinking of you. No, that’d be too much – he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he locks that room up, praying that you never, ever find out about it.)

When you awake, you’ll find yourself changed into fresh, clean clothing (soft clothing, too, the kind that you could never afford), tucked into a bed in a room you don’t recognize. The futon is soft, the sheets warm and decorated with a pattern and color that you distinctly note is a favorite of yours. Your entire body hurts, wincing as you sit up.

It’s only then that the door slides open, a tuft of white hair greeting you as Sanemi clears his throat, wide eyes glancing at every visible part of your body. He’s rather curt when he explains where you are, glossing over the why and instead cryptically reiterating that you’re safe now, so drop it.

As a captor, Sanemi is surprisingly attentive – you’d known each other before your  kidnapping, of course, though he’d always seemed like a rather hot-headed, difficult man.

And those mannerisms certainly don’t change when he’s got you trapped with him – except now you can see that there’s something deeper under the surface, something vulnerable and raw and real. You’ll see it in the way that he touches you like you’re made of glass – shying away and retracting his hands just moments before they touch your skin, acting almost as if the idea of touching you repulses him.

(God, nothing could be less true – he so desperately wishes to brush his fingertips against the smooth skin of your thighs, to cup your cheeks in his palms, to press his lips against yours – softly, slowly, as if he can’t quite believe that you’re real.)

You’ll see it in the way that he has every meal cooked and prepared for you, the Wind Estate quiet and empty except for the two of you. It’s always your favorite foods, cooked with every idiosyncrasy and taste of yours in mind, with a level and degree of accuracy that will terrify you at first.

And frankly, you will be terrified at first – he’s reluctant to admit his feelings to you, sure that if you were to know the truth of the situation you’d immediately reject him, and as stupid as it is Sanemi doesn’t think he could handle your rejection. It would break him, emotionally, physically, and mentally, leaving him a shell of a man and still just as desperately, pathetically in love with you if not more so.

But the reason you’ll be terrified isn’t because of his demeanor or the way you think he feels – rather, it will become obvious very quickly that Sanemi knows much more about you than you thought. You know you’ve never told him your preferred menstrual supplies, and yet the bathroom he’s assigned to you is stocked full of the exact model and heaviness you prefer.

(It’s your own bathroom, thankfully, though when you’re asleep sometimes Sanemi will sneak in, picking up your toothbrush and letting it sit against his lips, suckling at the bristles and rifling through your trash just to find a pad or two when he knows you’re menstruating. He’d rather slice off his own hand than admit it to you, of course, but just being in a space that you regularly use makes him feel special, connected to you in a way that makes his knees weak and the smallest, faintest of smiles cross his lips.)

You’re sure you’ve never mentioned what clothing size you wear, and yet there’s a slew of brand new, beautifully made kimonos and lounging wear perfectly tailored to your body, all in a range of colors and designs that are your favorites.

(There’s also a few in a lime green material and a single, pure white one, both of which were guilty pleasures that Sanemi felt compelled to include in his orders from the local seamstresses. And if you were to wear one, willingly, during a shared meal with him? Well, don’t comment on the pink color of his cheeks, nor the way he ever so slightly stutters when he tells you that you look nice.)

Frankly, he’s a pretty good captor to have – he gives you space, and forces himself to stay away from you for most of the day in an effort to not overwhelm you. At least, at the beginning. He tells himself it’s enough to know that you’re locked up in the Wind Estate, safe and sound and perfectly removed from the danger of the outside world, but his paranoia and yearning for your company eventually drive him to spend just a hair more time with you.

Instead of giving you privacy during meals, he’ll instead knock at your door, entering with his own plate and sitting down as far away from you as possible within the room, silently eating and trying not to make his staring too obvious.

(He mentally justifies it as making sure that you don’t choke on your food, but really it’s more about seeing you enjoy what he’s made for you and knowing that you’ve eaten today. Good. He'll sharply inhale, biting back a smile as he slowly eats his own food, trying to prolong the moment.)

He spoils you with all sorts of gifts and supplies for any hobbies you may have, and while he initially doesn’t interact with you as you knit or draw or read, eventually he’ll gather the courage to ask you a question, trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant as he asks what it is that you’re drawing, how to knit, or what your favorite book is.

It’s a slow but steady process, and as time passes and you grow more and more complacent with your situation, you’ll find yourself coming to enjoy the rough, oddly charming presence of Sanemi. Even if his stalking and feelings for you become an unspoken truth, his fondness for you difficult to ignore (with the way he treats you so gently, spoils you, and very poorly hides the way his cock springs to life each time you say his name).

And so really, Sanemi feels guilty enough for being in love with you, and even more guilty for forcing you into a life of complacency – the least you could do is compliment him, right? You could at least invite him to join you for meals and walks around the modest garden of his estate. You could at least intertwine your fingers with his and pretend to not notice the way he gasps, mumbling something incoherent that sounds vaguely like your name.

Really, it’s the least you could do – and with every action, Sanemi only falls for you harder, deeper, his resolve to keep you safe, happy and his only growing.

PUNISHMENTS:

While his obsession with you alters certain parts of his personality, some characteristics remain absolutely true regardless of his feelings for you. And unfortunately, one of them is his quick-trigger temper.

You calm him, the mere sound of your voice making the tension in his muscle relax, the clenching of his jaw lessening slightly, the tensing of his shoulders becoming less pronounced. The feeling of your hand pressing against his chest makes him freeze in place, the anger simmering in his gut becoming more diluted, the rage slowly leaving him because god, you’re standing right in front of him and he can see every fine detail of your face and he can smell you and god…

You have a physical effect on him that calms him ever so slightly, but he still finds himself remarkably susceptible to rage, even with you in his vicinity.

Of course, rarely ever is he actually mad at you – early into his infatuation he’d found himself constantly irritated and enraged at you, convinced that you’d somehow purposefully made him into the lovesick fool that he is, unable and unwilling to admit to himself that it’s entirely his own doing leading to his spiral into dependence on you. He’d even tried to hate you, consciously filling his head with lies and telling himself that you were weak, a burden, only something that would slow him down. And yet, the anger was never quite real, never quite honest.

(Never directed at you, really, but more directed at himself for being so weak as to form such strong, dependent feelings on you.)

And so, Sanemi’s anger more often than not revolves around someone else – often, someone around you. Men that get too close, friends that meddle when they notice that you have Sanemi as an unwanted admirer, your boss when they treat you poorly, even strangers that are even the slightest bit rude to you.

He’ll never go far enough as to injure another human to point of death, if only because he’s still guided by morals that yearn to save humans, but Sanemi is absolutely committed to making sure that you’re treated like the royalty that he perceives you as.

(Often, any men that feel bold enough to approach you, or god forbid touch you meet a bloody, painful altercation with the Hashira, unable to do anything but be pounded into a pulp as he swings and punches, leaving them a bloody semi-conscious mess on the ground, even spitting onto them as he mutters something about being a fuckin’ monster, assaulting women like it’s nothing…)

But all that said, there are a few very specific things that can get Sanemi angry at you, too. He can forgive you lashing out at him and calling him terrible names, even openly welcoming it sometimes because he knows it’s true.

He’s mostly worried when you attempt to escape rather than angry, terrified that you’ll somehow hurt yourself or be eaten by a demon if you manage to get through the patch of wisteria trees surrounding the perimeter of his estate. Instead, his main triggers are when you injure yourself, or when you say something negative or degrading about yourself.

 He’s so paranoid about your safety and health that the mere idea of you injuring yourself gets him borderline panicking, his breathing getting heavier and his hands starting to tremble as panic engulfs him because he absolutely cannot lose you, too.

He’s always quick to reprimand you, yelling at you but dressing your wounds as gently as possible, treating you as if you’re made of glass and cleaning everything perfectly to prevent any further harm. But really, what truly angers Sanemi is when you display a lack of self-respect, though he’ll never explicitly punish you.

He loves you – so much so that it physically hurts, his chest aching when he’s away from you, every muscle growing restless and anxiety settling in his gut because he needs to see you right now. He’s a worshipper in every sense of the word, and to have you disrespecting yourself and talking down to yourself in any capacity is enough to get his blood boiling. It’s two-fold, really, because not only is it an assault on your character, but it’s an assault on his, too. It’s a remark against him for thinking of you so highly, for revering you and kissing the ground you walk on. It bruises his pride and makes him defensive of you, even if it’s you yourself making the remark.

And so, Sanemi tends to grow angry, unable to comprehend how you can possibly see yourself as something less-than when he’s so utterly enraptured with every fiber of your being.

Being trapped with him means long expanses of time where you’re alone, Sanemi out on a mission or pulled away begrudgingly, and as time passes this will slowly start to affect you.

Too much alone time equates to an awful lot of staring in the mirror, fingers prodding at the skin of your cheeks or arranging your hair this way or that, furrowing your brow and trying to understand exactly what it is about you that makes Sanemi so enthralled. You can’t put your finger on it – you’re just you, and while he’s never come right out and said it, you’re very aware that Sanemi finds you beautiful.

(You’ve overheard him, after all, late at night when he’s muffling his groans and the wet schlock schlock noise is audible even through the wall separating you. It’s difficult to not hear it, after all, when he’s moaning your name as he gets close, stuttered curses and little gasps of s-so beautiful, fuck and all sorts of other praises slipping out of him as his orgasm approaches.)

It’s too much time for you to be alone and overanalyze. And even now that you’ve been with him for well over a year, now that your whole world has become Sanemi Shinazugawa, it’s too easy to let the insecurities get the best of you.

And really, you shouldn’t have ever mentioned it – later that night, when Sanemi returns home from his latest mission, he can immediately tell that something is wrong. He closes and locks the multitude of locks on the front door, glancing at you with skepticism and worry, before placing his hands on your hips and pulling you close, leaving a single long kiss against your forehead as he asks you what’s wrong. Your small mumble of nothing doesn’t convince him, but Sanemi just pushes it aside, deciding to revisit the subject after you’ve both eaten.

 Dinner is quiet, and it’s halfway through that he decides enough is enough.

What the hell’s the matter with you? He’s asking, setting down his chopsticks and staring pointedly at you.

You’re not too terribly afraid of your captor by this point, but the intensity of his stare still makes you fold in on yourself slightly, embarrassment and self-consciousness eating away at you. Sanemi continues the staring, unwilling to back down, eventually scoffing and telling you to just spit it out, I’ll wait as long as it takes.

And that you believe, enough to get you blurting out a quick I’m not good enough for you to be so in love with.

It’s slurred and difficult to understand even to your own ears, but it gets Sanemi’s face twisting up, a mixture of shock and confusion making his brows knit together and that familiar scowl sit on his lips.

What the fuck? It’s all he can ask, really, because this is so out of left field and unexpected that he genuinely has no clue how to respond.

At his pointed confusion and silence, you play with your thumbs, hunger totally gone as the words start falling out of you like some sort of nervous word vomit. It’s just that I don’t really get why you’re so – so fixated on me. I’m nothing special, and before you get angry at me just know that it’s okay and I’m not trying to get away I just –

Sanemi cuts you off by rising to his feet before you can even blink, a hand snapping out to wrap around your wrist. Before you know it you’re being dragged down a series of long hallways until you come face to face with a door you’ve never set foot passed – Sanemi’s personal, private room.

Normally, when the two of you share a bed (something that has only recently begun happening, after Sanemi gathered the courage and you’ve become so touch-starved that you welcomed his presence), you sleep in the room he's had made up for you, Sanemi allowing you to stay in the quasi-comfort of your ‘own’ room rather than force you into yet another unfamiliar situation.

 But you hardly have any time to gawk at the room before he’s shoving you in front of his modest mirror, the reflection of yourself making you blink twice. He's angry – you can see his face in the mirror now, and his cheeks area  bright red and a few veins are standing out against his neck, a sure sign that he’s livid and is only barely able to hold himself back from acting on it.

 It makes you shrink slightly, though you’re confident at this point that he won’t hurt you, at least not purposefully.

Look at yourself, he tells you, voice strained. He’s standing behind you, gripping onto your shoulders and forcing you to face yourself in the mirror.

You do as you’re told, but it doesn’t seem to satisfy Sanemi.

He groans, resting his forehead against the slope of your shoulder. Look at yourself.

A pause, then: Please.

Swallowing, you search each and every feature of your familiar face. Your eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, eyebrows, jaw, anything and everything you can think of. After a few moments, Sanemi looks at you in the mirror again, his eyebrows furrowed tightly.

Do you really not see it? He asks, and you merely shake your head.

He bares his teeth. Dammit, how can you not? How can you be so fucking blind?

It’s harsh, his words making you wince slightly, but they’re loaded with something unlike his usual rage – there’s something sweeter to it, something that feels different and gets you meeting his gaze in the mirror. The look on his face is almost pleading, and you’re struck with the realization that he’s not angry, he’s frustrated. Genuinely frustrated that you don’t seem to understand just what he sees in you.

Slowly, you bring your fingers up to your cheeks, fingertips pressing against the soft skin. Sanemi watches you with bated breath, his grip on you still tight.

Compliment yourself, he instructs, the words sounding strained. You blink at him, swallowing heavily.

You mutter out a small comment of how your eyes aren’t too terrible, and Sanemi groans at that. His hand moves from your shoulder to your chin, pinching at it and bringing you closer to the mirror. Give yourself a real compliment, or I’ll stand here all fucking day until you do.

You tell him that you have pretty eyes, and it seems to please him. He nods, almost subconsciously, keeping his grip on your chin. Damn right you do. Pretty eyes and a pretty smile. Tell me more.

He keeps you in this position for nearly an hour, forcing you to list off each and every possible compliment about your looks and personality that you can think, his gaze never wavering in intensity or sincerity as he grunts and nods at each and every one.

It’s only as your jaw starts to ache and you start to grow restless that Sanemi eventually lets go, turning you gently to face him. A finger lightly traces over the shape of your lips as he exhales, the softness of his actions and the moment making you feel light.

Don’t undersell yourself. His voice is firm, his lips set in a thin line. You’re perfect, and you need to accept that.

He covers your mouth with his hand as you part your lips to respond, shaking his head. No, none of that shit. We’re doing this every day until you decide that you’re good enough for me – until you prove to me that you respect yourself the way you should. New compliments every day, and I don’t care how hard it is for you. When you run out, I’ll step in, but you’re elaborating on everything I say. Got it?

You nod, a strange sort of tenderness welling up inside of you that only makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes because oh god, how wrong is this? Your captor, the man who stole you away and keeps you trapped inside his him, is complimenting you and it’s making you feel more loved and wanted and appreciated than you’ve felt in your whole life. There’s just something so sincere about his push for you to understand just how wonderful he thinks you are that makes your lower lip wobble, the way he’s actually genuinely enraged by your insecurities and the absurdness of them making your nose tingle.

It's sweet, something your captor really shouldn’t be, and as tears slip down your cheeks Sanemi awkwardly presses you against his chest, silent as his grip grows progressively tighter. He’s no stranger to insecurity, and as he drags you to the mirror the next day and the next after that, you’ll slowly find yourself believing him when he says that you’re kind, that you’re beautiful, that he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything else in his life.

It's strange and you may hate yourself for it, but as the days pass you’ll find yourself growing more and more fond of Sanemi, his commitment to improving your self-esteem feeling like the more intimate thing anyone has every done for you, and slowly you’ll find yourself seeing him in more and more of a romantic light. Sure, he’s stolen you away and stalked you extensively, but when he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear and calls you beautiful in a voice so raw that it cracks, how can you not fall for him? Maybe you’re sick in the head, depraved, any number of terrible things, but with each compliment he forces from your lips, you’ll find yourself caring less.

He just really, really loves you, doesn’t he?

OVERALL DANGER:

4/10

By and large, Sanemi is akin to a large, possessive guard dog. The mere thought of hurting you makes him sick to his stomach, and he’ll go to any possible length to ensure your health and safety.

(He’s had literal nightmares about leaving you bloody and bruised, and he’s actually woken up and immediately hurled, breathing hard and nearly in tears because it felt so real and it’s almost like your blood is actually on his hands.)

He’s paranoid, terrified that you’ll somehow be killed and stolen away from him, your presence the only thing that seems to calm him, growing to become the only thing that motivates him to wake up every morning.

He’s overprotective, letting his fear for your safety bleed into every aspect of his relationship with you – he’s following you around like a lovesick puppy, constantly vigilant for threats to your safety. He’s obsessively tracking your meals, fussing over making sure that you’re getting balanced, nutritious foods, constantly asking you if you’ve drunk water on any particular day.

And he’s possessive – refusing to allow you to interact with most men, skeptical of your friends, entirely untrusting of each and every person in your life. He won’t try to manipulate you into isolating yourself, but Sanemi really, really wants to, only holding back for the sake of your mental wellbeing. And really, that’s a large factor in Sanemi’s behavior towards you – he loves you, or at least in his own deranged, too-intense way, and he’s willing to kill himself physically and emotionally just to make sure that you never frown, that you’re never sad or angry or afraid.

His first priority is you, always, and it’s only after that that he considers getting you to love him back. It’s of course the goal – he wants you so badly that you have no fucking clue, because how could you? How could you possibly understand just how deeply his dependence on you has become, just how intertwined a mere scrap of your attention becomes for his self-confidence, his happiness, his sanity in his day-to-day life?

He’s well and truly whipped for you, his every waking thought revolving around you, but you’ll that your life will be relatively good with him. He’ll treat you like a queen, spoiling you and doing everything in his power to keep you happy, and can you really hate it as much as you claim to?

Can you really, honestly say that Sanemi is a monster when he keeps you well cared for and respects you despite the way you know he wants to ravage you and keep you all for himself?

Can you honestly say that you don’t want him just as badly, that you’ve become so accustomed to him that you’re well and truly his?

Sanemi sure hopes not, and as time passes, you’ll slowly give into the small, desperately and pathetically hopeful looks of his, reaching out to touch him when he’s too hesitant to initiate, even whispering those lovely, sacred three little words. And once you do, he’ll only work harder to adore you, only falling deeper and deeper into obsession with every passing day.

With every passing second, really.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren't as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: Hellooooooooo. I've done it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The heat is suffocating. There’s so many people crammed into the tight space. Enough to smother you and make you sweat. You're close to the end. 

The train is finally still and passengers rise to take down their bags and form a queue along the center aisle. You stay patiently in your seat. You’d rather wait there then brave the crowded shuffle as the impatience to disembark mounts. 

At last, the doors open and people begin to move. You don’t stand until the last person passes your row. Your suitcase is at the front of the car with the bigger luggage. 

Step-by-step you make your way up and slip your bag off the middle shelf. You haul it awkwardly to the door and the man on the ground helps bring it down. You thank him, looking only at his branded pin, and step off. 

You drag the bag behind you and hike up the smaller bag on your shoulder. You’re exhausted and it’s not even noon. The automatic doors stand open as the other passengers enter the station. You follow and wheel your bag to the side so you’re out of the way. 

You take out your phone. Your mother texted that she was here ten minutes ago. You can’t see much through the busy station. It’s summer and everyone is on their way somewhere; going home or heading out on vacation. 

You’re relieved to be back but you won’t be able to relax until you’re at your mom’s house. You can’t wait to hide in your room and catch up on your reading. After four years at college, you have a long list. 

As endless as your list may be, your reprieve won’t be. You have your degree now. You need to use it. Find a job, start your life, be an adult. The prospect is exciting but terrifying. More the latter as it entails associating with strangers. You’ve never been very good at that. 

You did so well in school because it’s all you did. You didn’t go out and party, you didn’t distract yourself with dating or drinking, you didn’t even sign up for that book club that looked fun. You only stayed in and studied and occasionally ate in the cafe instead of boiling ramen or ordering in. 

You don’t see her. You roll over to a free seat and sit. You text and ask where she is. 

The general public stirs around you, blending into your peripherals as you stare at your phone and wait. You’d be better off waiting outside. Maybe. There’s a line of taxis and it’s all clustered with people trying to claim one. 

“Ahem, excuse me.” The deep tone draws your head up but your eyes don’t go all the way. You focus on the man’s neck and the silver and brown stubble under his chin. He says your name and you sit up taller. “That’s you, right? Your mom showed me a pic. She’s just run to the bathroom.” 

“Huh?” You clutch your bag tight. 

“She did tell you I was coming, didn’t she?” He asks. 

You shake your head and gnaw on your lip, “no. Who are you?” 

You don’t know him. Not by his voice or the brief peek at his face. He’s older. Maybe her age. His dark hair is peppered with grey and his face is lined around his eyes and mouth, a few softer wrinkles in his forehead. His blue eyes are as bold as gems. 

“Bucky.” He answers as if that should be explanation enough. He offers his hand. “Finally, we meet.” 

You look around and accept his hand. You shake it. “Um, okay?” 

He lets you go and grabs the handle of your suitcase. You reach for it in panic and stand. You nearly tip over and barely avoid brushing against him. 

“She didn’t mention me. At all?” 

You shake your head. 

“Bucky,” your mom’s voice undercuts the awkward introduction. You turn to watch her flutter over. “Oh, sweetie, you’re home!” 

Your mom seizes you and wraps you in a tight hug. She usually lets you have your space. You’ve never been touchy feely but you don’t protest. It has been a while since you saw her. 

“Um, mom?” You murmur as she releases you. 

She steps back and looks between you and the stranger. No, his name is Bucky. 

“Oh, yes. You two. This is Bucky. Bucky--” 

“We met,” Bucky interrupts. 

“So sorry. I had an iced coffee on the way,” she trills. 

“Bucky?” You raise your brows in your mom’s direction. 

“You remember. I told you I met a guy,” she lowers her voice and nudges you. “This is him.” 

“Oh.” 

You vaguely remember her mentioning it after Christmas. You didn’t think too much about it. You don’t remember it coming up again. She always just said she went out or talked about chores. You wonder if she didn’t tell you on purpose. If maybe she expected you to overreact. 

“We thought we could take you out for lunch as a bit of a homecoming. That train food isn’t very filling.” She smiles. “Well, it was Bucky’s idea. He’s so sweet.” 

“Honey,” he chuckles. “Please, you’re giving me a lot to live up to.” 

“Erm. If you want.” You shrug. 

“Sounds like a plan. I’m starving.” Bucky pulls your bag away and you flinch again. “Ladies, first. Want me to get your other bag?” He offers and you shake your head.  

Your mom moves first and you quickly catch up to her. You wish she’d at least warned you. You’re entirely unprepared for this. She knows you don’t do well with new people but maybe that’s why she didn’t say anything. So you couldn’t come up with an excuse to get out of it. 

The sun beats down and adds to the sheet of sweat across your nape. Bucky looms behind you, his shadow skewing on the pavement, and you search for your mom’s car. You don’t see it. 

She leads you to a dark blue car and you stare at it dumbly. 

“Bucky drove,” your mom explains. The trunk pops as Bucky rolls your bag up. You step back as he lifts it inside. You thank him again as guilt bristles in your chest. 

You follow your mom around the side of the car, waiting for her lead. When she opens the door, you open the back one. When she gets in, you get it. When she clips in her seat belt, you do. Bucky gets in on the driver’s side and drops his keys in the little tray between the cup holders. He jabs the button to turn the engine. 

He doesn’t shift into gear right away. He does up his own seat belt, adjusts his posture, then fiddles with the mirror. You glance up as his eyes dart away in the mirror. Was he looking at you?

You pick at the hem of your sleeves button-up and lean into the door. You really hope you’re not in the way. You have that rotting sensation in your gut. You’ve ruined their day. 

“Alright, everyone buckled in?” He grips the wheel with one hand, the other hooking behind your mother’s seat as he cranes and backs out of the spot. You stare at his thick fingers as you slump down in self-consciousness. You know he’s only checking his rear window but you’re always paranoid of being seen. 

He rolls the car straight and steers between the slanted rows of vehicles. He idles behind the fleet of cabs and weaves his way through the chaos. Your mom sighs and shifts. She’s a less than patient driver. 

“So, we were thinking the new bar and grill, figured you haven’t been around to try it,” your mom explains. “But if you miss Dezi’s, we can go there. Me and Bucky love getting Sunday lunch there. You remember how we used to go?” 

Your lips twitch as you fright a frown. Dezi’s is your place. You and your mom went there since you were in grade school. Knowing she’s been taking him feels like a violation. The suspicion that you’re being replaced unnerves you. You don’t have any right to be mad about it. You’re grown now and your mom’s allowed to live her life. Thing’s change, they already have. 

“New place is fine,” you grumble. 

“Great! Megan recommended it. I’ve been dying to try it.” Your mom is elated. 

She’s never short of enthusiasm but you don’t know the last time she didn’t have a single complaint. If it’s a nice day, she’s disappointed she can’t be at the beach. If she has the day off, she’s upset she has to do the laundry, even if you offer to throw it in with yours. And when she finally gets her food at a restaurant, she laments that she didn’t order the chicken instead of beef. Maybe change is good. 

“Your mom’s a great tour guide. I don’t feel so lost anymore.” Bucky stops at a light and looks at her. “Uh, Lauren?” 

“Straight then left,” she instructs him with a point of her finger. Her nails are done. Not her usual chipped paint on her short square cuticles; she has a full set with a lovely almond shape. 

He follows her directions and continues through the green. You turn your attention out the window. You were only just home for the holidays but everything feels so different. Or maybe you are too.  

There’s nothing ahead of you no, yet everything at the same time. You haven’t found much in your job search. Every job your mom sent you, you applied. You trawled the online boards and even used the student career center for help with your CV. A dozen articles littered your feed deeming the market oversaturated. 

Another disappointment for your mom. You’re sure she won’t fail to mention this one. You exhale and twine your fingers together in your lap. 

“Tired, sweetie?” Your mom asks. 

“Uh, yeah,” you answer. It wouldn’t do any good to share your worries. You still have time to find a job. Eventually, you have to get something. 

“Alright,” Bucky flicks his blinker on and waits to turn. “Here we are.” 

He pulls into the lot of the bar and grill. It’s built to resemble a log cabin and the entire theme has a rustic tint. He slides into a spot and shuts the engine off. In the silence, your stomach rumbles loudly. 

“Hungry?” He chuckles and peeks back over his shoulder. As your mom jostles her purse and untangles her seat belt, he winks. Your blink dumbly and click the button to release yourself. 

“Sure.” Your voice creaks as you pull the door handle. It doesn’t budge. You try again. Then frantically feel around for the lock. 

“Oops.” Bucky turns and hits a switch. The locks thunk back. 

Your mom gets out first and you follow. Bucky catches up and brushes by you as he passes. He beats you both to the front door and opens it for you. You trail your mom and he stays close as he enters behind you. 

“Such a gentleman,” your mom praises and giggles. She sounds bubbly. You can’t remember her sounding like that before. 

“Table for three,” Bucky says to the hostess. 

Again, he lets you go ahead of him. Your mom is ahead of you as the hostess leads you into the dining room. You’re sat at a booth. You’re relieve to have a bench to yourself, facing your mother and Bucky, but she insists on being on the outside in case she needs the bathroom. That leaves you across from him. 

“Drinks.” Bucky intones as he grabs the slender menu. “Cocktails?” 

“What do they have?” Your mom leans on him as she reads over his shoulder. 

“Hmm, interesting. Apple cider’s a bit out of season,” Bucky comments. “Figured we should celebrate. Baby girl is home and graduated.” 

You wince at the reference. Baby girl? He sucks his teeth as he examines the menu then turns it around. He offers it across the table. 

“Think I'll stick to beer,” he says. 

“Go on,” your mom goads. “Get something special, sweetie. You earned it.” 

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ll just have water.” 

“It’s a special day,” she insists.  

“Well, er...” you take the menu and nod. You look down at the listings as your cheeks burn hot. You don’t like to argue, especially when there’s no good reason. 

You try to make sense of it. Blackberry sounds good but you’re not sure what bitters are. You don’t drink. You had one glass of wine at a New Years party with your mom’s friends a few years ago and didn’t really get the appeal. It made your stomach feel swishy. 

There’s a lemonade that sounds okay. You like lemonade. You settle on that and put the menu down. Your mother scoops it up and you apologise. You should’ve asked her if she needed it. 

A server appears and takes your drink orders as she doles out a set of larger menus. You take yours and listen as she recites the specials. You don’t really catch any of it. You’ve always done better with writing than oral instruction. She leaves and you wait for the others to open their menu before you do the same. 

“This is nice,” your mom says. “I’m so happy you two are getting along.” 

You force a smile and Bucky slips his arm around her and squeezes. Your eyes meet again and his cheek dimples beneath his beard. You quickly avert your attention back to the sandwich options.

Getting along? You barely know him. Not to mention, you didn’t expect him. No use in whining about it. He's here and your mother is happy. 

[amiizuki]

watched the pilot storyboards, albeit only 3/4 of it, and I like how the pilot made Luz seem more like an outcast eccentric weirdo, which is what she's supposed to be, rather than an ignorant asshole who is borderline terrorist

instead of her waltzing into school with dozens of spiders, snakes and fireworks, that she all planned to use INSIDE the building with a smile on her face and not a care in the world, here she instead only brings one snake to school and that's it. a snake that stays with her and her only, doesn't bite anyone, and whom she also later sets free OUTSIDE school. sure, she mentions that Azura is going to "explode out of the snake's stomach", but I heavily doubt it meant that, if the teacher hadn't stopped her, she was gonna pull out a big pack of fireworks, like the ones she had in the show, stuff them inside the snake's mouth and blow it up, especially considering she called the snake "friend" and seemed to treat it like an actual living being, instead of a book report prop, since she had a bag of food for it in her locker.

honestly they should've kept this scene in the 1st episode, at least partially.

like, the start of the episode would play out the same as in the pilot, except Amity isn't here and doesn't stand up for her, so Luz just quietly sits down at her desk in embarrassment and maybe pets the snake while looking upset or something. it then continues the same, up until she opens her locker.

(by the way, I feel like this scene would work better to show the audience that Luz is a nerd, by looking at all those things in the locker, that are usually considered as either nerdy, childish or both, rather than having Luz herself just tell us that she likes to do nerdy things)

in the pilot, that's where Amity walks by and Luz tries to talk with her, but since she wouldn't be able to be here in the actual show, instead Luz would hear an announcement from the principal that he needs her to go to his office. cut to her sitting in the office with her mom already there, and then it generally plays out the same way it did in the 1st ep – the principal says that Luz's been disrupting classes often and have been making her classmates weirded out and disturbed by her antics, which also simultaneously lead to her having no friends. no spiders in class and fireworks inside building – only her acting overly eccentric and weird, to the point where she might accidentally ignore some of the social norms, like with that book report in the pilot and the school play in the show. then the principal mentions today's geometry class that Luz interrupted and says that this was the final straw – not only because something like that happened however many times before, but also because this time she brought a live snake to class, and while it didn't bite anyone (unlike in the show, where her snakes bit MULTIPLE people, and Luz was just like "oops, guess that's where the backup snakes went haha lmao"), it was still a very dangerous thing to do. Camila would react to it in surprise and ask "Mija, where in the world did you even get a snake?" or something like that, with Luz just kinda awkwardly shrugging in response, while looking down at the floor. after that, the principal offers for her to go to a summer camp, to "get her head out of the clouds", and everything else plays out the same way it did in the actual 1st episode.

if it was like that, then, once again, it would actually make Luz look like just an eccentric nerd, who doesn't actively try to harm or disturb anyone, and just does things that she thinks are cool or fun. sure, she might come off as a bit ignorant, with her occasionally ignoring classes and social cues, but it would be just because she's too passionate about the things she likes and gets so much into them, that she might forget the real world in the process.

but uh... the 1st episode Luz isn't exactly that

letting dozens of small spiders inside class, while not giving a shit about people who are scared of those is not cool or fun.

letting however many snakes roam free and bite everyone, while, again, not giving a shit about them being bit is not cool or fun.

and, fucking hell, setting off fireworks inside the school without a second thought is NOT cool or fun

so yeah, that's all I've got

also I wish the "Why would anyone throw it away?" moment with Eda was somehow kept in the show, because it's honestly beautiful and I love it. I don't know how they'd be able to pull it off in the actual show, since Amity was never able to go to Human Realm there and thus Luz wouldn't be able to make that drawing of them, but oh well, it's good that we're able to see this scene at least in the storyboard form.

[senditcolton]

Your Mother Tongue

Grocery shopping together. Always asking for each other’s opinions when deciding between brands or snacks in general. Trying to sneak in little snacks and treats they know the other person likes.

part of my Valentine's Day prompts requested by anon | word count: 1k | warnings: none!

Days off were rare for both you and Andrei. Many people would think that when the two of you had a full day with no responsibilities, there would be an agenda to fill the time and spend it together since you were afforded so few opportunities to do so.

The reality was that most of your shared days off were spent lounging around the house. You both wanted to relax and take a breather from your demanding jobs. Sure, occasionally you would try to go to the movies or eat at a nice restaurant. But mostly, days off were filled with nothing special.

You are lying on the couch, playing a game on your phone, passing the time, letting your mind go blank. Your eyes are diverted from the screen at the sound of Andrei’s footsteps coming down the stairs and you smile at him when he rounds the corner.

“Hey,” you say, noticing the keys in his hands. “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, just running to the store for some things.”

“Can I come with?” you ask, lifting yourself upright.

“Why?” he questions, curious at the sound of your excited tone.

“Why not?” you quip back.

“No, no reason, I’m just…” Andrei says, that confused expression still on his face. “It’s just the store. Doesn’t seem very exciting.”

“I like spending time with you. Plus, it’ll be nice to get out of the house,” you explain. Your reasoning seems to be enough for Andrei because in a matter of minutes, the two of you are in his car on the way into the city.

You watch the buildings pass by you, thankful to be out and about but when Andrei makes a turn down a road you don’t recognize, you realize that he never mentioned what store he was going to. You assumed it was the small local grocery store that you frequented but as Andrei pulls into a small parking lot behind a strip mall, your intuition turns out to be very wrong.

“Andrei, where are we? What store are we going to?” you ask after removing yourself from his car and taking his hand. He takes your hand in his, pulling you forward as he starts to walk.

“Right there,” he responds, pointing to a hidden entrance on the side of one of the buildings. “It’s an Eastern European store. Martin told me about it a while ago. I like it because it reminds me of home.”

The smile that pulls at your lips when you hear his explanation is genuine. You knew that Andrei missed his home a lot during the season. You were glad that he had found some sanctuary and it made you even happier that he was sharing this piece of himself with you.

Andrei guides you into the store, the bell ringing cheerfully overhead. The sound of Russian hits your ears; the dialect is familiar but the words are not. You locate the source of the voice to a very cute old lady smiling at your boyfriend from behind the counter. Andrei greets her with a smile before gently pushing you forward, the Russian flowing from his mouth sounding like an introduction.

“рад встрече,” you attempt, the words clumsy coming out of your mouth. You have to stop your cheeks from heating when the clerk gently laughs, replying to you. Andrei comes to your rescue, murmuring a translation in your ear.

“Vera says it’s nice to meet you too. And that you are very beautiful.”

“Спасибо,” you reply, the thank you feeling more comfortable falling from your lips. She smiles again at you before turning her attention to Andrei, chattering at him in Russian. You see Andrei’s cheeks turn rosy as he glances down at you before replying to her.  

Vera shoos the two of you off with a wave of her hand and a smile. Andrei takes your hand in his and guides you down the aisles of the store.

“What did she say to you?” you ask, looking up at your boyfriend, the blush still lingering in his cheeks.

“Vera just told me that I better not break your heart,” Andrei explains. “I told her I’d try not to.”

“Well, you’re doing a really good job so far,” you reply, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

You finally turn your attention to the shelves lined with drinks, snacks, candy, and other food. The Cyrillic alphabet stretches across each label and you attempt to re-familiarize yourself with the letters. Andrei guides you around the store, answering your questions, helping translate, and sharing memories about each item that he places in your basket while also convincing you to add whatever sounded interesting.

It makes you insanely happy to see Andrei’s face light up over the things that remind him of home. You loved the sound of his native language falling off his tongue with such ease, you loved that he helped you immerse yourself so completely into the culture that was so integral to him.

You make your way back to the counter and you stand back and listen to him and Vera chat, the small talk feeling so natural even if you could only pick out bits and pieces of their conversation. You are caught off-guard when Vera turns her attention to you with a call of your name.

“Huh?” you ask, stepping forward.

“Vera has a gift for you,” Andrei quickly explains as you keep your attention towards Vera. She reaches out over the counter, placing a chocolate bar with the name Babaevsy printed across the paper in gold.  

“She says it’s her daughter’s favorite. She hopes you like it as well.”

“Спасибо,” you thank her again, pulling the candy close to your chest as a sign of gratitude. Vera speaks again and you hear Andrei chuckle behind you before his translation comes.

“She also says that you better keep me in line, make sure I’m treating you right.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” you laugh, your reply swiftly translated by Andrei. Vera smiles back at you before bidding you both goodbye. The two of you walk out of the store together, the bag full of treats securely in Andrei’s grasp.

While a trip to a Eastern European grocery might not have seemed like anything special, it meant everything to you and Andrei. That impromptu excursion helped you love him more completely.

[fire-fira]

The way 03 Leo acts he seems more like a samurai then a ninja thoughts?

In the strict sense, I definitely agree with you.

Because in terms of his samurai-like qualities--

Honor and bushido are his thing, no question.

Along with that are his very strong morals, his sense of right and wrong.

And responsibility. Dear gods his sense of responsibility. (I can sympathize a bit with Raph at some points about how this Leo overdoes it and occasionally puts his family at risk because of it.) - Which is also reflected in his PTSD response in needing to be 'better'. - And general overall perfectionism, let's be real.

Did I mention honor? Because HONOR. This boy gives Zuko from ATLA a run for his money with how often he says the word.

Plus the narrative l o v e s tying his well-being and 'soul' to the state his swords are in; a thing which is way more 'samurai' or 'ronin' than 'ninja'.

On the other hand, he is ninja-like in that--

He tends to stick to the shadows.

He's much more comfortable going in on a mission the sneaky way rather than metaphorically (or literally) kicking down the front door.

He's not above using what he has at his disposal as a weapon, even though he's much more comfortable using his swords. (The time he yeeted the seat of a hovercraft at some triceratons comes to mind.)

He's also not above using his swords as a general use tool (like when he helped April peel that ridiculous number of apples out at the farmhouse) instead of having the samurai-like reverence of only really using his swords for combat.

And to touch on point 2 here again, if there's a way to successfully complete a mission without a head-on confrontation then he doesn't seem opposed to taking a sneakier way to get things done.

With all of that^^^^ I suspect Usagi regards him as strangely samurai/ronin-adjacent. Especially since, unlike most ninja Usagi is acquainted with, he very clearly isn't

an assassin

for hire

likely to stab someone in the back

likely to attack someone when they can't defend themself

likely to go back on his word

someone who can be paid off with enough compensation

someone who will act without necessarily caring about the impact of their actions.

All of that gives Leo (and his family by extension) a pass that Usagi likely wouldn't offer otherwise.

There's also a good chance that Usagi rationalizes it to himself with the excuse that since Leo and his family are from a different world with wildly different circumstances that what being a ninja 'means' in their world is likewise dramatically different from what it means in his world, and as such he can only fairly judge by what he knows of Leo and the others personally.

This might have become a bit of a tangent. lol Thank you for the ask though!

[leonenjoyer69]

The sillies :3 and the both colored and not bc I really really like the sketch for this one :3 my old emo playlist has recently creeped back into my life and ofc Migraine by Tøp hits me with this wonderful idea. Also, fun fact, the physical drawing was originally just supposed to be a concept doodle that I was gonna redraw on a different paper but I uh, got carried away..

Anyways!!! Little info dump below the cut on the relationship between the 3 of them bc @dustmint asked about it and I thought I'd share my response here too, teehee

OKAY, SO, HOW JEKYLL AND HYDE ACT TOWARDS HARRY:

I do firmly believe that Hyde fights Harry more Aggressively and outright, on board to do whatever it takes to get rid of him (or at least out of control) , while Jekyll took a bit more convincing (mostly once he was done freaking out over the fact that he's a fraction of a person just like Hyde is). He definitely also hates Harry, but in a more subtle, silent way >:3 instead sorta challenging Harry mentally as opposed to physically, like Hyde wishes to. He's generally more observant and tries to strike when he thinks it best, sometimes his emotions get the best of him tho.

MORE IN DEPTH:

So, once they figure out what/who Harry is from his lil journals in the mind scape, Jekyll may or may not have an identity crisis (he definitely does) but once he kinda gets through that he just feels bad for Harry, being locked away in the mind scape so long and dealing with everything there and such. Plus, Harry is seemingly their whole parts (their previously whole parts, at the least), so Jekyll certainly doesn't want him to die or anything. Hyde doesn't really feel too strongly about him right off the bat, more so just annoyed that Harry took control and now he's stuck in the mind scape with Jekyll.

Though!! Things change once Harry kinda shows his resentment towards the two, saying that he wouldn't be letting them out anytime soon, and revealing how he plans to reverse the potion. This immediately sends Hyde into feral dog mode, trying to use literally everything he can to absolutely break Harry and gain control back. Jekyll is still a bit reluctant for a while, but eventually starts siding more with Hyde, plotting how to gain control back or take care of Harry without killing all of them, bc ofc they don't wanna die.

But yeah, between sending out nightmares, forcing the heart palpitations and such by fighting, or just being a general nuisance (most all of which are usually by Hyde) it's not really surprising that the resentment Harry already had towards them grows lmao.

He does eventually find out that those little phantom strings he can still see around his wrists and such can kinda be used to vaguely control/subdue his other halves. Yeah, he threatens them a lot.

Also!!! Jekyll and Hyde start getting along better, but definitely still bicker and shit occasionally (which tends to piss Harry off a bit, since he's been so fed up with their fighting and refusing to be one for so long, it just ticks him off very easily). Jekyll also feels really jealous of Harry bc of how he seems to be able to fix things so easily (and his blooming relationship with Lanyon ofc)

Anyways!! That's all I got for now lmao. Lots of character development for Harry lately. Man, I really need to start doing stuff with Elias again 💀

Oh also here's a colored version where they're not ghostly:

[helianskies]

would you consider some engport for the winter prompts? :3

always.

Warmer

“That is not a snowman.”

“Snowmen… Snowwomen… Do we have to label these things?”

“Okay, let me reiterate: that is not any kind of snowperson, João, that is a duck.”

João’s smile drops. He stands there, serious in his salmon-pink mittens, and says, “It is literally Barcelos.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Very!”

Arthur pulls a face—that sort that says ‘hmm, well, if you say so’—and he goes back to sipping the hot drink in his cup. João in turn huffs, then goes back to patting bits on snow into his chicken-duck-demon effigy upon the garden table, his latest masterpiece, and his first snow sculpture in years. Though to be fair, it’s also Arthur’s: white Christmases are a rare phenomena!

Of course, he’s just winding the other up. He could tell what João was making when he first looked out of the kitchen window about ten minutes ago, but sometimes, it’s amusing to watch the other work hard away, a pout on his face, a frown at his brows. The fluffy earmuffs he’s borrowed from Arthur’s collection of winter-wear add to the patio scene. 

Taking another sip of his tea, Arthur continues to observe. A small ball of snow is scooped up from the table and gets smushed down onto the head. Time to make the comb!

While João continues, Arthur asks, “Want a hot drink?”

“I’d rather have some help,” the other duly responds.

“The mighty Portugal seems to be doing a fine job on his own, though,” Arthur remarks light-heartedly, from the comfort of the conservatory, whose warmth he can still just about feel behind him as he stands in the doorway.

João stops, mittens on snow, to look at him. “I don’t think you understand.”

The words are said so seriously—so harrowingly—that, actually, Arthur is inclined to agree with him. He doesn’t understand. So he steps down onto the patio in his slippers and he wonders, “What do you need me to do?”

“Something you should have done a long time ago, Kirkland,” is his stern response.

Now concerned he’s forgotten to do something that was asked of him, or that he’s forgotten a date (I swear that’s in January, though!), or that he’s just being an idiot in general and that’s disappoint João which is the last thing he wants and—

“Coat, scarf and gloves,” João instructs him. “Put them on. Find your shoes. Come outside.”

Panic dissipates like steam. 

“Oh, you���” Arthur gives a nervous laugh. “You actually just want me to help.”

“Yes!” João cries. “In your own damn time! My hands are freezing, but Toni sent me a photo of a snowman he made, all proud and stuff, and now I want to show him how much better my snow sculpture is!”

More amused than anything, Arthur promises he will help, and he retreats inside to wrap up warm. Within three minutes, he’s slipping on some boots and is back outside, ready to help João achieve his goal for the day: to outshine his brother.

(Something he does every day in Arthur’s book, but… that is beside the point.)

Arthur first tells João to swap gloves with him. It means that he hasn’t got the cold, wet mittens continuing to freeze off his digits, and Arthur, willing to endure for him, can power on and follow his instructions while João takes a break.

Together, they manage to finish the comb and carefully make its swooping shape. After that, João directs Arthur through some touch-ups, wanting to perfect his creation before he dares take a photo to send to his brother. 

Anyone who listened would perhaps think João is bossy, but that’s not the case. He’s an occasional perfectionist, and only when it involves competition of some kind. Arthur knows what that’s like. He has that same streak when it comes to his brothers. It’s one thing that makes him and João kindred spirits, in a way.

“Hey.”

Arthur lifts his gaze to find João next to him. With a blink, before him is a completed Snowcelos (a name João does not approve of, but oh well!) and he realises… they’re done. Wow. Finished! When did that happ—?

A chilly kiss lands on his cheek. Yet, it brings him the warmth of home.

“Sorry for making you come outside into the cold,” João says.

He loosely wraps his arms around Arthur from behind, resting his head upon Arthur’s shoulder. There’s nothing else he says—he simply gives him a hug—but the way he rests makes it seem like he’s tired. Ready to stop.

“I’m just glad we finished,” Arthur tells him, regardless. He puts his arms on top of João’s. “Are you happy with your snow duck?”

“Snow Barcelos.”

“Same difference.”

“Yes,” João determines. “I am.”

Another kiss meets Arthur’s skin, and João then slowly withdraws from the embrace. Instead, he takes Arthur’s hand, and suggests they go back inside before they both start to freeze. 

“What about Snowcelos? Aren’t you going to take a picture?” Arthur questions as the other starts to gently pull him back towards the house.

“I will do,” João responds, “but I think he can afford to sit there and wait a little bit.”

“Wait for what?”

“For us to warm up a little.”

“Oh?” So much for being tired!

“‘Tis the season for showing thanks, no?”

Arthur’s face changes hues. “W-Well, I mean—”

“Don’t worry, Kirkland,” João smiles that teasing smile of his. “This won’t take long.”

[ winter prompts here! ] [ ficlet collection on ao3! ]

[cloudcountry]

you don't have to leave.

Genre/Tropes: No notable ones!!

Summary: Can I have a soft angst with happy ending of Mc getting ready to go home but jade doesn't want them to so he does everything he can think of to make us stay and we decide to stay?

Author's Comments: I loved writing this one, I think it may just be my Octavinelle bias but I also think soft Jade deserves rights. ALSO FLOYD CALLS THE READER CLEANER SHRIMPY BC THEY HAVE A MUTUALISTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH MORAY EELS mc upgraded once they started dating jade.

~~~~~

“I found a way for you to go home.”

You looked up at Crowley, shock on your face. You didn’t think he’d taken the search to send you home seriously, and for a second you thought he was joking. Grim squirmed a bit in your lap at the news, but was clearly just as surprised as you since he didn’t say anything.

“Really? I can go home?” you asked, relief and anxiety crashing on you in waves.

“Henchhuman-!” Grim sat up, his paws resting on your shoulders. His expression was frantic for a moment, but it quickly shifted to sadness, “You...You can’t go!”

“In my infinite kindness, I will give you a week to decide. You may stay here and continue to work under me, or end your studies and go home. Ah, I’m such a generous Headmage!” Crowley hummed, beaming at his words, “Now run along! I am a very busy man-”

You walked out of his office in a daze, images of the home you’d occasionally forgotten during your stay here. The second you started on the path to Ramshackle, Grim started pawing at your shoulders again.

“You can’t go! If you leave then I’ll get kicked out!” Grim insisted, his eyes frantic.

“Relax, Grim. I’m sure Crowley will let you stay.” you set him down, continuing on your way, “I need to clear my head for a bit...this was so sudden...come on, I’ll get you some tuna-”

You turned to look back at Grim only to find the path empty. A brief sense of panic overcame you, but then you realized. You were going home. Grim was no longer your responsibility. Besides, he’d show up later for food. He always did.

You entered Ramshackle with a sense of finality, figuring it would be the last time you had to sleep in this dump. You’d gotten so caught up in Overblots and playing therapist for everyone that you’d forgotten how homesick you were. With no wallet or phone you had no photos of your family, just memories.

The sound of the front door bursting open ripped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even get to turn around until Grim was clinging to your ankle again, two hands grasping at your shoulders.

“Hey Prefect, what gives? You’re going home?” Ace was just as panicked as Grim, his eyes wide as if you’d suggested something horrible.

“I mean! I understand why you want to go home! Of course I do! But...it won’t be the same without you! Nothing will.” Deuce looked like he was about to cry, clinging to your arm like you were his lifeforce.

“Guys! Stop crowding me. I haven’t even thought about it. I just got the news.” you pleaded, squirming out of their hold, “I can’t get peace to think about this for five seconds?! Just give me some time. I don’t want to leave you guys! You all are my friends and I care about you. Just let me be for a bit...”

You were finally able to breathe once the trio let you be. They were quiet, as if they hadn’t said anything at all. You left like you were about to cry as they moved towards the couches, Grim clinging to Ace’s pant leg. Your heart was lodged in your throat as they all sat down, back facing you.

They were giving you space.

You knew they weren’t mad or giving you the cold shoulder. They understood the choice you had to make.

Then why were you so upset?

Jade, your brain whispered, You needed to go see Jade.

Jade Leech, the Vice Housewarden of Octavinelle, had been your partner for a while now. You’d stumbled upon him in the greenhouse about two weeks after you’d shown up, trying to get a better idea of the campus layout. He’d been polite towards you, though now you knew he was trying to determine how interesting you would be. To be fair, you’d thought he was interesting too, and kept trying to find him. You learned his name, the fact that he was his dorm’s Vice Housewarden (which earned him a frantic question of whether he cared for formalities or not. He did not.), you learned he was in Octavinelle and worked at the Mostro Lounge, which is where you found your feet taking you. You had wanted to calm down and collect yourself there before telling him, but things never worked out the way you expected them to in Twisted Wonderland.

The second you stepped into the Lounge, Floyd popped up in your field of vision.

“Hey little cleaner shrimp!” Floyd beamed, “Are you here to see my brother?”

Good, Floyd was happy. If he was in a bad mood today this could have gone a lot worse.

“Yes. Do you think he could get a bit of a break for like...an hour?” you asked, hoping that Floyd would give you even a fraction of that time.

“Sure thing. He’s on break anyway. Probably making tea or looking through his mushrooms.” Floyd wrinkled his nose.

“Thank you, Floyd.” you reached up and patted his head gently.

You headed to the small break room behind the counter as Floyd giggled, continuing on his way to serve customers. The door opened with a slight creak, and you shut it quietly behind you.

“Hello, dear.” Jade hummed, appearing next to you so quickly you would think he teleported, “Did you come all this way just to see me?”

“Jade, I have something to tell you. It’s important.” you said, your stomach twisting in knots.

He blinked, surprised. The look didn’t last.

“Okay. What is it?” Jade smiled, taking your hand in his.

“Crowley found a way to send me home.” you confessed, meeting his gaze.

Silence.

Jade’s smile twitched a bit, his eyes never opening. He chuckled, but you could tell there was a troubled undertone now. Being around Jade for so long helped you pick up on those little things that only Azul and his brother could decipher.

“Would you like some tea?” he hummed, turning away from you, “I have a new blend. I’m sure you’d love it.”

“Jade.” you stood your ground, watching as he stopped in his tracks.

He didn’t turn around.

“Would you like sweets instead? We have a new dessert you can try. I submitted the recipe myself.” he hummed, starting towards the small table without looking at you again.

“Jade, please look at me.” you pleaded, “I wanted to talk to you to clear my head. You’re the only one I can trust to do that right now.”

“What is there to discuss? Do you want to hear about the new mushroom species I’ve found? I can’t say I blame you, it’s certainly fascinating.” he finally looked at you, that smile still plastered on his face.

“Jade, I don't know what to do.” you reached for him, but he didn’t meet you halfway.

“About the mushrooms?” he turned away from you, pouring a cup of tea, “I can teach you how to take care of them. Then you can forget about this going home nonsense.”

“But Jade...I care about you.” you murmured, staring at your lap. That last comment was like a knife in your heart—you knew Floyd and Jade were blunt people, but you expected a little more communication from him.

“And I you, dearest. But I’m afraid that doesn’t matter anymore.” Jade handed you your tea, his eyes finally meeting yours, “You’ve got your home back, and it would be selfish of me to stop you.”

“That’s not what you’re thinking and you know it. You’re teasing me right now. You want me to stay and I know that, Jade.” you barely restrained yourself from slamming your tea on the table.

He briefly looked taken aback before he began to chuckle, his hand rubbing the top of your head.

“Well, it seems you haven’t lost your touch. I would not be myself if I were not selfish.” Jade retracted his hand, still managing to keep his distance despite the fact that the two of you were so close just moments before, “But you’re wrong. I am being selfish. Now, would you like to see those mushrooms? I submitted a new recipe to the lounge, too. You can tell me recipes from your home and we can make them here. You don’t have to go back when you’ve found another home here.”

“But it’s my home.” you breathed, heart twisting painfully in your chest.

“But am I not also your home?” Jade’s eyes flashed as he leaned down to your seated position, unexpectedly close, “I was under the impression that I was just as important to you.”

“Don’t guilt me. Don’t make this harder.” you mumbled, tearing your gaze away.

“How do you think I feel?” he asked.

“The same. We feel the same, I think.” you mumbled, “I…I think we’re both making a decision that might leave a home behind.”

Jade said nothing for a few beats. You didn’t either. He stood up straight again, sitting down across from you as he poured himself a cup of tea. The silence was suffocating as you two sat across from each other.

“I knew this day would come.” Jade hummed, “I just did not expect it to be so soon.”

“That makes one of us. Crowley can be so incompetent sometimes that I just... assumed I’d never go back.” you confessed.

Jade made a soft noise of interest, but changed the topic again.

“I’m going on another hike tomorrow. I hope you will be there to join me.” he stated, plunging the both of you into an awkward silence for the rest of your meeting.

You received his silent message.

Make a decision by then.

🍄

“Whaaat? You’re going back into the mountains again?” Floyd huffed, glaring at the small pile of Jade’s gear.

“Of course. At this time of year, certain species of mushrooms are thriving. It'd be foolish not to take advantage of it.” he hummed.

“Gross. Just don’t bring any of those weird things back, okay? I hate them.” Floyd grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’ll bring back whatever I please.” Jade laughed softly, hoisting his gear on his back and opening the door.

“You better not!” Floyd shrieked as he shut the door, ignoring his brother’s plea.

The walk to his usual hiking trail was more thought provoking than he was used to. Jade, for once in his life, had no idea what you were going to do. After all, your entire motive during this school year was to get by and go home. Who knows if a few connections would be enough to soften your heart? Jade thought it would, but with your indecisiveness yesterday, he couldn’t be sure.

He couldn’t be sure until he saw you waiting for him at the trail.

Was it just his imagination, or was the walk taking longer than usual? He checked his watch and blinked a few times when he saw that only a few minutes had passed. It wasn’t taking slower than usual. Laughing quietly under his breath, Jade found himself intrigued with this feeling.

Anticipation.

What would you choose? Would you choose him (and your little Heartslabyul friends too, he supposed they’d be included as well) or your home?

The last stretch of trees before he turned on the trail seemed to drag on. Jade purposefully slowed his pace, the anticipation welling up in his chest. There was some sort of enjoyment he found in this unpredictability, even if it was you. He hoped you’d forgive him for being late if he ever saw you again.

He turned down the path, eyes immediately sweeping the area.

He almost laughed when he saw you, sitting down, leaning against a tree. You were examining a map of the trails with a furrowed brow, and he remembered the first time he’d taken you up here. He’d let you navigate for the fun of it, and you both had gotten lost. Jade was far more happy about it then you were, and he’d had camping supplies prepared. This earned an enraged exclamation from you because you thought he’d packed those thinking you’d get lost. He’d told you that no, he’d packed those because he knew you’d get lost.

To this day, he thought your angry face was cute.

“I’m glad you decided to stay.” he placed a hand on your head, making you jump.

“Jade! I didn’t even hear you!” you stood up quickly, dusting yourself off, “Um...Ace and Deuce wouldn’t leave me alone. And I have Grim to take care of. And...I don’t think I’d want to go home if I couldn’t take you with me. I think this place feels more like home than anywhere else. Even if I miss some people from my world...I found more people here. It wouldn’t feel right leaving them.”

Jade laughed, sweeping you into a hug. You buried your face in his neck, clinging to him tightly.

“You’re so cute, my dear.” he tilted your chin and kissed you gently, one of his hands cradling your face as the other held you against him.

Breaking away, he relished your flustered expression.

You chose him.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

I don't even like thinking about toji taking megumis girl. Like, in my mind he's trying to atone 😪

Yes!!! Let’s talk about it!

He loves ‘Gumi so much. He was just having a bit of a ✨ emotional breakdown ✨ during that whole selling him off deal. And personally I was coming off the Shouto train so it hits twice as hard cause he always gets his GF taken by Endeavor or Dabi (sometimes Bakugo), which Dabi makes sense since he HATES Shouto. But post-atonement Enji 😭I totally get the kink though (tbh I kinda like it in reverse 🤭). There’s actually a really GOOD fic I like called U&I with Bully!Megumi and you sleep with Toji to kinda get back at him after finding out he’s been using you. I like the revengeful ones or when it’s a 2-parter and they find out what you did.

BUT I DIGRESS, okay so I got some big brainrot and I was half asleep and started thinking about it and ahh! Plus I didn't post for his birthday so this is like the most slap together, grammarless of my brain rotting (and you brought it about Nonnie, so you gotta take responsibility lol) but:

»»———-　　———-««

(SFW) Imagine okay, like a modern AU: Toji is trying to be a better dad after the endless benders after losing his wife. He went from floating from random woman to woman, trying to catch that feeling again like when he was with his first wife. It always devolves into the same thing with him squeezing them dry for every penny he can get before moving on to the next with Megumi in tow. Sometimes it didn’t include Megumi, Toji would leave him alone for weeks to months at a time as he got older, occasionally bringing home some new mom that he’ll eventually abandon at the end of the day or that eventually gets tired of him; tired of both of them because Megumi refused to be nice to anyone Toji brought home.

But it finally hits him to be better, to try to be a good parent. Sadly, it’s too late. Megumi is a teenager now, one year from graduating high school and going to college, where Toji will definitely not have any chance to atone. He doesn’t blame the kid, it’s his own fault.

However, he sees a lot of himself in his son. The apathy that borders depression, the lone wolf attitude, the quietness and independent streak, the very small number of friends (if any, because Megumi NEVER brings anyone over or talks about school at all, usually avoids talking to him in general). He isn’t really sure what to say to the kid, not that he’s figured it all out himself or that Megumi would even listen to him. Indifference was the best he could hope for most of the time.

Then one day, he shows up at home with someone. A girl, even. And you’re cute, way too chipper to be following around his wallflower of a kid. Always entering and leaving with a “Hi, Mr. Fushiguro. Bye, Mr. Fushiguro. Looking good today, Mr. Fushiguro. Love the haircut, Mr. Fushiguro. Rocking that sweater, Mr. Fushiguro. Have a good day, Mr. Fushiguro.”

You seem too good for nobodies like them; and when he teases Megumi with the notion, his son claims you’re just his class partner for this semester, nothing else. But Toji sees how soft he gets around you, the little bit of extra effort he puts in trying to make conversation when you’re over, the blush and grouchy embarrassed complaints he makes whenever Toji tells him to leave his room door open when you guys work on projects in there. The complaints usually get a little quieter given the right laugh from you.

You have a good effect. Megumi seems a little less tense, walking the world with a little less cynicism even though it’s still clearly there. He starts hanging out with two other kids from his school, Megumi claims they’re your friends, not his, but Toji has seen the pink haired boy over twice without you. Overall, you all seem like a really good kids.

One weekend you pop because you and your friends were in the neighborhood and wanted to see if Megumi wanted to join in on whatever you’re doing. Unfortunately, Megumi’s not home, but it gives Toji a small window to prod you a little about your relationship with Megumi. He’s observant enough to notice by now that the two of you like each other but he just wanted to hear it from you, and you make the most darling lovesick face when he asks. As far as he can piece together, you’re not dating officially but the entire world treats you as you are.

When Megumi finds out what happened though. He doesn’t like it, and he makes it clear that the interference was highly unappreciated it. Toji is simply sitting in the kitchen and trying to enjoy his apple, and he’s getting the interrogation treatment by this little gremlin (affectionately) half his size.

“What were the two of you talking about?” “Nothing in particular.” “If you don’t need anything then don’t bother her.” “Why? You don’t want me speaking to her?” “No. She isn’t your type anyway.”

Then, Megumi starts going off on a tangent of why Toji shouldn’t be interested. You’re too young, you're still months off from 18, you don’t have any money for him to leech, and there’s no way you can decide on a movie together with that age gap; 'You’ll kick the bucket 30 years before her' is the meanest one though.

Based on the disrespect, it still looks like Toji has a lot of work to put in but it’s almost cute, in an grouchy, bratty (also affectionately) sea urchin type way that he’s getting so worked up over you. He thinks the kid will combust if he mentions that he does think you’re cute (in an overly energetic bubbly kind of way), and it makes him release a short chuckle as he resists the intrusive thought, which only serves to make Megumi’s frustration even worse.

Normally, he'd get tired at this point and ask if Megumi was done mouthing off yet, but this time it makes him glad to see Megumi getting so worked up over something. It’s a good feeling to know his actions didn’t completely ruin his son, that he didn't completely destroy Megumi's ability to care about life like his former family and the world had once done to him. It makes smile the tiniest bit even as Megumi seems to try to trudge away after making his point. Whatever point there was to be had. The boy is such a chronic overthinking about everything and everyone, including if you’re one of those girls at the school that squeal when they see him pick him up at school on the rare occasion.

“Hey,” Toji calls out to get his attention. “Do you know what you’re doing?” It’s not the best words but it’s the only way to sum up the familiar feelings he gets of his past, right after he left his family, right before he met Megumi’s mom. And after losing her without ever really making the most of everything back then and treasuring the moments together. “It’s hard to find something like that. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

He can sense the tension draining from Megumi, the panic and shaky nervousness from seconds ago leaving in the form of drooped shoulders and a soften, mildly confused expression as he looks back at him. Something seems to finally click in that overly worked brain of the younger Fushiguro and he mumbles, “I know.”

And Megumi gets that look again, that quiet one, too caught up in his own head.

"Do I need to make room for a daughter-in-law in that case?" he asks lazily before taking another bite of his apple, the chewing echoing. It's enough to earn some grumbles and a red face. He smirks when the boy quickly decides to hobble back to his room and hide away in embarassment. Like a normal kid.

And Toji thinks that maybe…a small maybe… that maybe they’ve gotten a little closer. If only in that moment. Regardless, he really hopes that the talk is one of those things the school already covered because he really doesn’t want to be responsible for that.

[justheretoposttrash]

day 5 of meandering about endeavor (and briefly hawks)--(taking a more meta-look at the fandom with this one):

i find it fascinating and honestly sorta cool that the fandom is so divided on endeavor in a way that lines up well with how people are divided on his character within the text itself.

the responses are certainly not black-and-white or binary, but it's easiest for me to give the examples of hawks and natsuo as sorta opposite ends of the spectrum. many endeavor fans are similar to hawks--enjoying his cooler moments while also greatly appreciating how much he puts himself through in his efforts to change for the better (as an aside, i do find it hilarious how many endeavor fans enjoy seeing that man beat the shit out of and actively suffering. kinky lol). endeavor haters, on the other hand, generally want nothing to do with his character (while some even say that they want him to die, when it comes to fictional people in a story, that's basically the equivalent of "keep this guy far away from me"). the need for unequivocal and complete separation from his character is similar to what natsuo wants and sticks with in the story (although he does have his moments of sensitivity regarding his father, in spite of this).

i think that the reasoning behind irl fans and the characters also often align. for hawks, it's incredibly inspiring and gratifying to see that someone is willing to put in the work to change, even if doing so will be difficult and often unrewarding. the worse the actions are, the more painful the upward climb becomes, but also the more crazy it is that the person in question is willing to make that climb in the first place. i've noticed a lot of endhawks fans in particular really finding a lot of personal healing through exploring these ideas, whether they want to change for the better themselves, or they wish those in their life who'd hurt them would be willing to grow as people the way endeavor's character does. sure, there are some people who gloss over the terrible things that he's done, but many seem to enjoy actively engaging with what he's done and working through what it means for them.

for natsuo, it's not just about it being "too little, too late", though that's definitely a big part--but also that he as a person cannot have a relationship with his father while keeping himself safe and healthy. a lot of real-life relationships end up this way, especially between parent and child once the child reaches adulthood, and it's a very healthy boundary to set. for irl people engaging with fiction that triggers similar emotions, this looks more like ignoring, not engaging with, or wishing for the removal of the character activating them---and if that "boundary"-esque wall can't be drawn, if they repeatedly are unable to avoid the character's presence, this often wells up as anger and turns into venting, which is only natural if you're being bombarded with a stimulus that you feel unable to control. (sure, blocking and filtering tags is available, but algorithms can be incredibly confounding/unavoidable, not everyone remembers to tag their stuff perfectly every time, and in this case, the maligned character plays an incredibly crucial and central role in the canon material itself--so if you want to consume, y'know, mha, you have to grapple with a text that at best isn't always for you, or at worst occasionally betrays you.)

i don't mean to overstate my case--a lotta ppl like stuff or hate stuff without questioning it--but i think in the case of this one particular character, a lot of nuance tends to emerge, and there's a lot of potential there for analysis/learning. I also think that some conflict and friction becomes inevitable between disagreeing fans regarding endeavor's character. naturally, your average person getting crushed in the gears of day-to-day life is going to feel hurt when they're accused of not engaging with the thing that brings them much-needed comfort in the "correct" way, especially if they have indeed been putting a lot of work into thoughtfully engaging with it behind-the-scenes. it's also difficult to give people you disagree with the benefit of the doubt, bc honestly there are plenty of wild takes or arguments made in bad faith out there--and very few ppl want to wade through a bunch of cortisol-spiking statements just to find one that is reasonable enough but that still might be disagreeable to them.

it's likewise interesting to see the reactions of people either calling hawks a murderer and hating on his character, or claiming he did nothing wrong and that twice shouldn't have fought/deserved to die (and while i can understand wanting to defend silly bbygirl birdman, man oh man would hawks not be happy with the latter take if he were a Real Boy). i don't believe either group comprises the majority of mha fans by a longshot, but there's still enough that i've noticed these little trends in one pocket of the internet or amother. i got nothin prescriptive here, i just find it all interesting to talk about.

lastly, i wanna say that, while telling stories from the POV of an abuser and trying to give them sympathy at the same time is so often a gross and very Bad Move, crazily enough i think mha is one of the best executions of this that i've seen. aside from the nuanced way endeavor gets treated by other characters (some supportive, some rightfully angry, some rightfully hateful), what stands out to me is that, by having us see through his pov, the story actually shows what anyone could realistically expect as a best-case-scenario of an abuser starting to atone. we don't have to question if he's sorry, don't have to question if he understands what he did as wrong, don't have to question that he's doing actionable things to make progress, etc., because we spend so much time with his thoughts. and it's not perfectly linear and it does come way too late, but it is kind of wild to see this kind of best-case evolution unfold bit by bit. of course, the flipside to this is that real life doesn't work this way and you can never have absolute certainty that an abuser genuinely understands/won't go on to abuse again. still, being able to see a direct model for what accountability and working towards atonement looks like is refreshing, when by comparison so many other character arcs in other stories 1) end in redemption through death, 2) have the character barely do any internal work/stay an absolute asshole, or 3) resolve a past "sin" that actually wasn't that bad to begin with. when all three tropes are avoided, when someone did something unforgivable but is veritably changing for the better but is still alive, what the heck happens next? what the hell do you do? what does anyone do? some options are explored in mha in a pretty neat way--natsuo never wants to see enji, and enji agrees. touya wants to see enji every day (at least implicitly so) and enji makes that his vow. so many flawed parents irl are unable to respect their childrens' wishes when it comes to letting them completely go so they can live their lives, or when it comes to staying ever-present and showing them genuine care, and yet enji becomes a parent capable of doing both opposite-seeming things at once, finally willing to do and become what his children ask of him. the todoroki saga is certainly not perfect---i for one have *thoughts* about how the very end of rei's arc has been handled---but i think it's unique for how it benefits from providing so much of endeavor's pov, whereas other stories from an abuser's pov might have slapped on shitty apologia or only provided an "explanation" for why that character is so nasty without going too much further than that. while this choice may force some fans to have a level of closeness with a character whose presence begets feelings of hurt and hopelessness, it also makes sense why this choice has captivated other fans and provided, oddly enough, a sense of inspiration and hope.

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Can you please do Loona x Male Sinner Reader headcanons? Thanks for your time!

of course!! u didn't specify much but I will try my best! also i am not used to writing a male reader so if it comes off as that way- sorry. hope u like it regardless!!! :D

General Relationship HCs! | Loona x Male!Sinner! Reader

Relationship: Romantic Warnnings: None!

For the purpose of this, we are going to say you are going to be some type of hound/wolf/canine

You guys probably met while she was (half-heartedly) putting posters of I.M.P. and later met again when you were asking to put a hit on your ex/deadbeat parent/shitty friend.

When you guys first met while she was out and about- you were on your way to work when you saw her putting up the advertisement

Interested in the service, you asked her for directions, not really paying attention to you, she pointed behind her, where the building was.

Feeling silly at not noticing, you thank her and continue about your day.

Not really the ideal meet cute, but! you would be able to rekindle that at a later date

When you entered the office, you weren’t expecting the same hellhound from the other day, but you were excited regardless.

She was sitting in her seat, feet (paws?) propped up on the desk as she scrolled on her phone. 

Clearing your throat, you asked if they were able to take a hit at the moment. 

Annoyed that someone had spoken to her, she looked up and stopped when she saw you.

You were…cute? Handsome?

Unknown of it, her tail began to wag, her interest piqued at the sight of you

Not that the word to describe you was really important, what was important was that you were talking to her and still waiting for a response.

“Uhh- Yea-”

BlitzØ cut her off before she even finished her word.

After taking you into his office to discuss the hit, Loona was left sitting there, thinking of you

There was no way she had liked you. She literally just met you.

Once you left BlitzØ’s office, you stopped in front of the cute hellhound at the front desk. and attempted to strike  conversation with her

The conversation was..actually enjoyable. You had mentioned a couple of things that Loona enjoyed and were even asking for some of her input

Either it was she was seriously lonely, or you were just speaking to her on a personal level (it was both) but she ended up being the one asking for your number, to which you happily agreed

After you left, Loona was in a better mood than normal, her tail wagging way more now that she felt that she made a friend who was similar to her

The entire time, BlitzØ was watching and planning both your and your hits murder. He was not elated.

You and Loona would have very casual hangouts, exploring the pride ring together and looking for things to do. You two would also hang out at your place, especially since if you guys hung out at her place, there was always the risk of BlitzØ, and you would rather live.

The slow burn between you and Loona was so bad that soon, Moxxie and Millie took notice of two way crush and made bets with one another asto who would confess first. All the while, BlitzØ is SO SOUR. The thinks Moxxie and Millie should be on his side, not trying to get you two together.

It actually takes you both way too long to realize that you even like the other, and even longer to finally confess

The first one to confess was you, while out walking to find something to do. Loona was NOT expecting it and froze.

You thought she was trying to find a way to reject you, so you quickly took back your confession, freaking her out even more. Stopping you, she pulled you into a hug, her tail wagging like crazy. Stunned at the hug, it takes you a moment to even hold her back, but all the while your tail is is going even crazier

Now together, you both just enjoy being with one another

Date nights out are kind of hard to do since you can’t leave the pride ring. Say bye-bye to ozzies (sad noise)

But date nights at home are very common. Normally at your place, (occasionally at hers when BlitzØ was out) you both cook up a meal, and cuddle while watching movies

No one even suspected of you two dating til BlitzØ entered the home earlier than she normally did and spotted you two fast asleep on the couch. 

You woke up to intense shaking and Loona yelling before the shaking stopped. You say your girlfriend pulling her adoptive dad off you, all the while he was spewing curses at you and your mother.

Next day, you dropped by the office with tickets to a horse show and some alcohol for BlitzØ, to serve as an apology. When Moxxie asked you what you were doing there, you explained to him and he just turned to Millie and laughed. 

He won the bet lol

BlitzØ was elated that you got him the ticket, but still growled at you and tried to bite at your hand

With BlitzØ how sedated (for the time) you and Loona can now announce that you are in a relationship (very much to the dismay of BlitzØ) 

In the beginning, there can no PDA, especially around BlitzØ, but once he eventually agrees with the relationship, after seeing how happy and loved Loona is, it still isn’t much but still here.

Loona isn’t a very touchy person, and a bit emotionally stunted, so she doesn’t go out of her way to seek it. At most, she will go up to you and hang around you. You are normally the one who initiates the contact, hand-holding, kisses, hugging, and anything else. 

Once she is secure enough in the relationship, she regularly seeks out physical touch, often enjoying bone-crushing hugs.

Arguments are kinda often in a relationship with her. From her temper and stubbornness, to your own, things can get heated pretty quickly

The best thing is to take some time/space and later, when you both are feeling better, you guys talk it out. Apologies are said, and you guys make amends pretty quickly

A bond activity that you both partake in is telling each other about your lives before one another. Loona recounts her life growing up in the adoption center, and you tell her of your life on earth. 

If you aren’t from L.A. then you tell her what your hometown is like. What you did with your friends, places to eat, the shops and everything you could.

If you were from L.A. you laugh at her experience, agreeing with her that the place is shit, and then telling her that there are some cool spots that you loved to go to when you were alive. 

If she has to go to another ring for work, she will probably be on call with you or messaging you the whole time, sending you pictures so you know what the other rings are like. Maybe even getting you merch or a novelty item there. 

If Loona wanted to take you somewhere because it reminded her of you, she would have to find a way to smuggle you into the other rings. 

Lets say she smuggled you to Beelz’s party, the whole time the other hell hounds are trying to figure out why none of them know you, and why you don’t even smell like them. (Beelz knows, just doesn’t care)

You would also be the number one person to calm her down. Sucks you couldn’t attend her appointment with her (BlitzØ wouldn’t let you lol) 

Overall you two are so cute and as much BlitzØ hates to admit it, you make Loona happy and love her almost as much as him. Moxxie is just glad that she doesn’t call him fat as much and Millie is already planning the wedding.

HOPE THIS IS OKAY!!! again i am not used to male readers but hopefully with time, i get better with it. i just realized that the readers gender never really played an important role into it ☹️☹️i didn't intend for that to happen im so sorry uhhhh i need to get used to this

[polyamorousmood]

If youre having jealousy but its something youve already consented to, and you know its something you just need to work on internally, is that something you should still talk about with your partner? I dont want them to feel anxious about my feelings, but admittedly i am having a hard time and while i think i can figure it out on my own, im afraid im not hiding it well enough, and if theyve noticed then maybe should we talk about it?

I am of the opinion you should tell your partner pretty much everything you're feeling, even if you're capable of handling it on your own.*

Especially if you think they notice something off, you telling them what it is, and that you're handling it, will likely actually be very reassuring to your partner. Because then they know the scope of the problem, they're at much lower risk of their anxiety going "actually, they Just Hate Me Now😣".

However, those asterisks are pretty important caveats. Below the cut to save space

*

not every relationship is capable of handling these discussions. If you have a partner that tends to take a minor thing and run 🏃‍♀️💨with it until they've convinced themselves they're unlovable actually, it may not be worth it. If you have a partner that isn't the best at being supportive/helping you through things ("well, you said it was okay, so I expect you to figure it out"), it may not be worth it. Etc.

They should know you're feeling something. That does not necessarily mean mentioning it Every Single Time or going into great detail.

It does require the understanding from your partner that not everything you mention is necessarily a "them problem", and that sometimes you just need to clear the air 🎐, bounce ideas off them💡, vent🤬, or whatever.

There may be one or two things your partner cannot handle hearing for whatever reason. You should do your best to respect that, after having a talk about them not being in a place they can hear that.

And then because of the type of person I am, even my asterisks have footnotes🥴:

If this is a such problem to where you don't feel like you can casually mention something minor🤏, I personally would start making exit plans or have a serious discussion with your partner about how their behavior is impacting your ability to be emotionally intimate and work as a team with them.

This is what I mean by casually mentioning something. You should generally be able to say "yeah, X caused me problems I wasn't expecting. Nothing I can't handle, just, if I seem touchy about it, please be patient with me" and get a sympathetic response, maybe even a suggestion on something that might help. If its already been discussed you should generally be able to check in with them and give a "it was better/worse than usually this time (so that's nice)/(but I'm okay)". Again, depending on what it is you're jealous about, it might be too much if you do this every time⏲️, but you should at least be able to occasionally or if there's a significant change

If you don't have this understanding, start building it 👷‍♂️🔨! Start saying "I don't expect you to do anything about this, but" and "I just need to vent, and then I really don't think it'll be a problem, but" and "I'm not blaming you at all, in fact I'm 99% certain this is just a Me Problem, but". This has helped me LOADS.

You SHOULD have a talk about it first. Either they can say "I really can't handle you complaining about [thing]" or if its something you noticed, you can say "it seems like its really hard on you when I bring up [thing], do I need to start finding another way to handle that?" Reasons for this include: 📃making sure you're on the same page wrt how much its bothering them, making sure the efforts you're making for them aren't taken for granted, making sure they aren't more bothered by you not saying anything, it may become such a problem for you that you have to mention it and you should be clear on that from the beginning, and many more!

Good luck out there, and happy relationships!! 💙💖🖤

[raointean]

Funniest responses* to the "What does "Whump" mean?" question

(In reference to my silmarillion fandom linguistics project, the results of which you can find in my "survey says" tag)

*not necessarily the full response, some are just fragments from longer responses. Also, I'm not filtering by "correct" or "incorrect" responses

it's like torture fic I'm pretty sure

Whump is (to me) almost kink adjacent in how it's employed for gratification (not necessarily sexual) and catharisis

Whump stems originally from the Stargate SG-1 fandom, and is an onomatopoeia of the sound a character makes when being hit or collapsing to the floor

Fic centring around a character being injured, sick, otherwise Going Through It(TM)

throwing your barbies out a window but like. with words.

Angst is a subgenre of whump, as are Hurt/Comfort and Hurt No Comfort.

(Usually) non-sexual

fic that revels in being angsty and sad

Can take the form of pain for pain’s sake

When your favorite character is suffering and you are enjoying every moment of it.

torture or other negative events happening to a character so we can see them SUFFERRRRR

Pain?

Sad, but not yet angst

a melodramatic connotation, though often affectionately.

Sometimes femdom flavored, sometimes part of hurt/comfort

Honestly, Elrond's entire history is a canonical example if I'm honest. The guy just never catches a break.

Gratuitous, slightly smarmy enjoyment of "hurting" a favorite character for iddy fulfillment

that builds to a crescendo of agony

The Silmarillion.

sometimes cute sometimes very much not

Historically I'm more used to seeing it associated with hurt-no-comfort but I think it's been updating recently?

Sometimes has a BDSM connotation but not always

No idea, but sounds funny

Ah baby your hurting so much (and I love it)

fiction where one character is excessively hurt for the reason of “the author wants to make them hurt in order to make them express emotions/vulnerability in a way they normally wouldn’t”

??? sex???

hurt/comfort, but without the comfort part. basically torture porn

emphasis on the hurt- but also with a recurring theme that eventually, things will get at least a little better.

Putting a character in traumatising situations, typically to feel better about your own situation

Hurt/comfort's darker cousin

I take my blorbo and I put him into a jar (plot outline) and then I shake him until he comes out bloody, battered, hurt on the brink of death and greatly traumatized, ready to be on the receiving end of some good old comfort

That Maedhros will be appearing in this story.

Hurt/Comfort but make it Hurt-HURT

kind of like grimdark but specifically physical and graphic

though its generally not very graphic)

Angsstttt but with a loving twist

Comeuppance towards a hated character does not count.

(but not like bdsm; character probably doesn't want it)

Putting your favorite characters through the meat grinder in a fanfiction context. Just make them suffer until they break down beyond recognition. It's not your regular angsty writing, no, this goes BEYOND. Just straight up torture.

It's suffering we coo over.

For those who enjoy torturing their dolls.

Genre where character is absolutely walloped on for catharsis reason (for the reader not them)

Nswf fanfiction catagory

Torture, whipping, medical experimentation, generally getting the shit kicked out of them. Often angst.

Similar to hurt comfort but its mostly the comfort part

Often does not include comfort as a chaser for the hurt, and if it does, then there is a *lot* of hurt

not sure. similar to whomp? like welp that sucks?

Making a character suffer. Extensively. Occasionally even excessively.

traumatising a blorbo and having a different blorbo help them

Light angst

[thehylianidiot]

Obligatory Spriggan 12 Headcannons Post

I have a list, and I only have one story idea I can explore this stuff for so I'm going to post a list instead:

Zeref first heard of Spriggans from Mavis. However, since he's not exactly an expert on fairy lore, he might have...misinterpreted a few details when he decided his Emperor alias should translate to "ugly fairy."

Once she found out about it a century later, it frustrated Mavis to no end. Seriously, it's a miracle once revived she didn't immediately grab a book on fairies and march right up to Zeref solely to lecture him on how many inaccuracies he made to his face.

Larcade...is actually fully aware he is Etherius. In fact, the idea that he isn't valued and just a stepping stone for END's creation is a massive insecurity of his. The fact that he broke down on being told he was a prototype wasn't because of what was being said but *who* was saying it.

That said, Larcade was once a human child who took a liking to Zeref and Anna on their travels...and ended up dead during a particularly brutal dragon attack. It was the one of two successful human-etherius resurrections Zeref had ever done.

Larcade and August were the Gray and Natsu in Alvarez's baby days. They had to rebuild the palace a few times due to their bickering.

Larcade knows about August's parentage, which is part of why he flaunts the whole "I am His Majesty's son" thing. Unfortunately for the century's worth of drama, August never took the bait.

Brandish, Invel and Ajeel were The Trouble Trio when they were kids.

Brandish outscored Invel in the law exam. Brandish occasionally rubs it in and Invel tries to ignore it ever happened.

Could Brandish have become Chief of Staff? Actually, yes. Did she decide being head of the agricultural division would net her infinite ice cream and was thus the better position? Also yes.

Ajeel grew up with extensive political training from his grandfather but he was a bit of a battle junkie so he signed up for specialization in Alvarez's military instead.

Meanwhile, Invel's family comes from a long line of ice-themed generals, but much to their chagrin he tried to distance himself from that in favor of legal discourse. His ice-armor trick from his battle with Gray was actually his family's specialty.

Invel purposefully gets his glasses frames a size bigger than they should just so he had an excuse to push them up his nose bridge more.

August took Brandish in after she became an orphan, and so she really looks up to her adopted grandfather (poor gal in 100yq on vacation's probably with the lingering guilt of stabbing him thinking it led to his death). She may act aloof but any bad word about the Wizard King and she will threaten to shrink you and drop you in a bathtub.

Speaking of which, since August was essentially the de-facto second-in-command, technically Brandish may or may not have been third in line for the throne. She just made sure to start her vacation before anyone noticed that detail.

Diamara's God Takeover was the result of an failed sacrificial ritual by a group of cultists. Just saying, Vistarion Castle sure does bring in a lot of orphans (now why does that seem familiar to a certain guild in Fiore...)

Post-war, Ajeel decided to take that running gag everyone made seriously and officially remodeled the war room into an orphan daycare.

Bloodman's anti-magic aura slowly killing everything within radius originally led a very depressed etherius. Once he stumbled on the etherius once and found some rather uncomfortable similarities to his own experiences with uncontrollable life-stealing curses, Zeref offered him a position within Alvarez.

Yajeel, August, and Makarov would have gotten along in a the-responsible-elders-are-causing-destruction way and you cannot tell me otherwise.

If baby August had been raised in Fairy Tail....he and Makarov would have been THE ultimate destruction duo that would give Pretch heart attacks with sheer level of destruction caused by their antics.

[mycupofteafanzine]

My Cup of Tea contributor announcement: part 1!

We are excited to share our list of artists in the zine! You can also find our cosplayers and writers here. See below the cut for links to their socials and their answers to the question: Why do you love Martin?

Ghoulie | tumblr

Oh man, what's not to love? I fell for him immediately for his sweet nature and softness and ended up admiring his inner strength even more. I see so much of myself in him and he makes me want to be better by killing with kindness and finding beauty and love for others even in the loneliness.

Willow | tumblr twitter insta

martin is just a silly little guy. he is one of my favs of the tma cast bc i love his voice tbh LMAO

Bori | tumblr twitter insta tiktok

He's such a sweet character while also being an absolute bitch when he wants to and I just love that for him!! 80% of my love for him stems from "he's just like me fr" and the other 20 is just "he's so effortlessly funny, damn mister there's-a-door-in-the-way"

Charlie | tumblr

He absolutely steals the show--Where else are you going to find someone with an aficionado for spiders, tea, and lying? The perfect man's right here.

Pikachic | tumblr youtube

The second I heard his voice in podcast I was like “oh no I’m going to love this guy aren’t I” and I was right! I initially just liked him because he was the nice one, but I found myself relating to him a lot and I loved seeing his character arc unfold.

Wormthist | tumblr insta

I really enjoy his growth as a character over the series!

Elias | tumblr

I relate to him, I feel loneliness in a very similar way and I'm way too nice and forgiving to people who may not deserve it. When Annabelle said "Because you always managed to get what you wanted through smiles and shrugs and stammerings that weren’t nearly as awkward as they seemed." I had to reconsider a few things about myself. Also I adore whenever he gets to be a bit bitchy, he's just an interesting character overall.

Sprig | twitter insta

I love Martin because of how passionately loyal he is. It takes a truly special person to prefer the world ending over losing someone they love. He deserves as much love as he gives out.

Dol | tumblr

I’m bad at putting feelings into words, but let’s give it a shot. Martin is a well written and complex character, and his arcs throughout the podcast really gets to me— but in a good way! A lot of the things that he say in relation to the Lonely and general loneliness hits quite a bit close to home, and not to mention his responses to situations and the occasional comedic/light-hearted moments that just,, make him Him! He’s portrayed realistically to me (or, well, as realistically a horror anthology podcast can be), and is just,,, a really good character trying to make the best out of the situation he is given. But I get sad thinking about him so thinking of him being happy is also ideally the short version to this aha

Squeeney | tumblr insta

I really connected to his storyline with the Lonely and his overall struggle to be the one that 'keeps it together'. He's incredibly multifaceted, like many characters in TMA, and I love the way his character is explored through how others choose to perceive him and his actions.

GUTPUNKS | twitter insta neocities

squishy

saintmalev | twitter

He represents that we can all just but that little guy who can do great things and fall in love. The epitome of 'the littlest people can make the biggest difference'.

Ochre | tumbr ko-fi

he tries his best <3

yakov-ukha | tumblr

Great guy, hater of rollercoasters, overall exquisite person.

Lee | tumblr

Martin has been such a relatable character to me and thats why I first started liking him. I slowly fell in love with how silly, cute and sweet his character can be.

Hawkfurze | tumblr

I love him for being both a sweet character and being so so flawed, its much more interesting than the blundering sweetheart they could have went with

Butzenscheibe | tumblr

he's a great representation for all us people pleasers, those guilty of self isolation and people with hearts big enough for everyone but themselves. he is someone you're not sad to recognize yourself in and it's a thing of great importance

Jox | tumblr twitter tiktok

Mmmartin,,, Martin is a huge comfort character for me and I heavily relate to him alot, i love his character development over the series and his interactions/ appearances too. I found that he was the first character i started liking when first listening to the magnus archives !

Mossii | tumblr tiktok youtube

mmmmmmartin. I think he's an incredibly well written character. The way he interacts with and is affected by trauma is very well done, not to mention how it then changes the way he experiences and approaches relationships. Overall he's a very three-dimensional character, something that probably isn't easy to create with an audio-only format. Also he's sassy.

K.M. | tumblr

I’m accidentally a Jon kinnie so did I really ever have a choice? Big /jk there. An honest answer would have to be how much he kept surprising me- kept me coming back for more!

Gammija | tumblr insta

There's a lot of answers to this, but most of all I love how multi-faceted he is. He's kind, a people pleaser, he wants everyone to be happy, and he's passive aggressive and needs his alone time. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and he lies about stuff all the time. He avoids acknowledging the awful truth as long as possible, and he has already considered the worst case scenario. And on top of all that he likes spiders. Character of all time.

Xenoglssie | tumblr

I like that he’s sympathetic and emotionally intelligent, but also kind of really mean. He’s a really well written character.

Leland | tumblr insta

Because he's Martin!

Wyatt | tumblr insta

"I can't hear you, Elias, there's a door in the way" or whatever the quote is ywy

Taro | tumblr insta

I have a crush on him <3 also because he's such a multifaceted character with so many layers to him. I love his bitchy side and his sweet side. He's very dear to me and I relate to him in some aspects.

Candlecoo | tumblr

Martin is just such a strong character emotionally, he is the teams rock taking the blunt of everyone's (mostly Jon's) outbursts yet still comforts them when he can. He's not perfect but he try's. and I think that's rather admirable. He's also really funny and relatable too, but that's just an added bonus.

FateSpoiled | twitter insta

It's Martin, have you seen him? No but, for real, he's such a sweet character who goes through so much across each season, and grows from each experience. His character development from that soft, bumbling idiot (as John portrays him) into the Antichrist's +1 is beautiful to watch, and, quite frankly, I love his voice!

Starryspells | tumblr twitter insta

Martin is a character that slowly found his way into my heart! He has so much depth to him beyond first glance, and I really resonated with his story and feelings! I’m overwhelmed with gratitude at the opportunity to express my love for this character!