#dr fancy pants

[razzydasombralover]

How do you afford so many plushies???

It's cliché to say, but I just save up, budget, work some overtime here and there, and also sell some stuff I don't want/need anymore.

Plus if you look around, you can find plenty of plushies for a good price off and online. Keep in mind it did took me a good 4-ish years to build my collection. Just gotta start somewhere!

It all started from this Flutterbat to eventually what I have now ☆～( '▽^人)

[thehutpoint]

Forgive me, Bill, I just couldn't resist.

[the-spirit-of-adventure]

Who’s your favorite one off or side character?

I thought about this for a long time but I just can't pick a favorite one! So instead I'm just gonna shout out a few that I think are neato.

Peppermint Larry (Various) How could you not love Peppermint Larry? He's cute and silly! He loves his job, he loves his Candy Wife, and I like to imagine he tries to be a second mentor for Flapjack, since K'nuckles isn't always too great of one. Plus all the cuck jokes about him are hilarious SDLFKJ

Dr. Matthew Proctor (Off With His Hat) I just like her design, she's so cute. And she has horrible taste in men just like me.

Fancy Pants Salesman Guy (Fancy Pants) Idk I like his design and he just seems so gentle and almost wholesome in a way? He treats Flapjack and K'nuckles respectfully despite K'nuckles being rude and filthy, and even has positive interactions with them. I love you, Fancy Pants Salesman Guy.

8 Armed Willy (Various) I love how he wears a ship as a hat! After K'nuckles and Missy were divorced and separated, Missy ends up having a fling with 8 Armed Willy. And when K'nuckles finds out about it he gets very jealous and upset haha.

[princescar]

OF COURSE Kyoko's Genshin design is taking inspiration from Venti, who do you think I am???

[zee-thezebra1]

Finally, we have Royal Crystal and Gemstone

(Rarity x Fancy Pants)

If you didn't see the post, I redrew the cover art for a fanfic I made for my next gen au about Rarity and Fancy Pants getting a divorce. The basic gist of it is they would always fight over everything constantly, and one night at the dinner table, their children had had enough and confronted them about their bickering. Fancy Pants is a stuck up snob who cares more about his reputation than his children, so Rarity kicks him out.

He then finds himself waking up to his old rundown apartment (that he doesn't quite know why he still owns) and a familiar face in the bed next to him – and it isn't his wife. He had gotten drunk and ended up at Fleur De Lis' place, a sobbing wet mess wanting to be tucked into bed like a foal. She obliged and stayed the night due to it being so late but the couch was so uncomfortable she decided to share the bed. When they woke up, she acted so normal about the situation which caused Fancy to spiral and believe he cheated on his soon-to-be ex wife.

He clears his head on a walk and spots Rarity in town with her friends being dramatic as usual. He goes back home and talks to Fleur, realizes they didn't do anything wrong, and finds divorce papers waiting for him. They meet with a lawyer and settle on equally split custody of the kids, getting them every other week. Fancy tries to fight it for full custody, but seeing as how he hasn't been the best father (and him not wanting his already tarnished reputation to get any worse) he quickly shuts it down and settles on the terms. Then Rarity goes for a romantic evening with Hoity Toity, stopping at the castle to get some advice from Twilight. And that's where I left it lol

That was a long summary lmao but yeah I reread the story and it's pretty good considering I wrote it a few years ago, I might take a crack at writing again, people seemed to like it and I kinda miss it

Sorry for the rant lol tl;dr is in the tags

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[eimearkuopio]

Julian May wrote some of my favourite books ever. Even if Jack the Bodiless did fill me with dread and unease.

im naming my future son julian in honor of julian of norwich. more men need to be named after women.

[cottontoru]

Rough Ride

✧˖° summary﹕your boyfriend is quite the sore loser, and of course, you always have to deal with it.

content(s)﹕porn w no plot, praise and degradation, streetracer!toji, angry sex, creampie, semi-public sex (you fuck in his car), dacryphilia if you squint, spanking (one ass slap, clit smacks), squirting, cnc kinda (you beg him to stop but you want it), wc; 0.7k

pairing﹕toji fushiguro x fem!reader

a/n﹕my first time writing someone other than gojo... had this idea for months and finally wrote it, enjoy!!

Toji hated losing. He was supposed to be undefeated, an unbeatable champion when it came to street racing, so he could he have lost a race this big?

You could tell from halfway throughout the race that he'd lost his temper simply from how his driving style grew aggressive. Toji was known for being aggressive in matches but being beaten put him in a full blown rage. A rage that couldn't be contained, and what better a way to release his pent up anger than fucking his girlfriend rough in the backseat of his black and white 1993 Mazda RX-7?

Folded practically in half, you're whining and squirming from how rough he's being with you. He's pounding into you with unimaginable force, his tip nudging that gummy spot inside that makes your brain feel like mush.

"Hngh...! Tojii- it's too much..!" you're basically crying, tears rolling down your cheeks as he slams into you. Right about now you two would be out at some fancy restaurant, celebrating his victory, except that isn't what happened today.

Instead you're being spoiled in a completely different way, one that makes you feel weak in your limbs as you hold your thighs and push them into your chest.

Rather than reassuring words, he simply smacks your clit, grunting. "Shut up and fuckin' hold your legs." he smirks smugly, slapping at your face between your legs.

"Tellin' me it's too much but yer taking me so fuckin' good," he continues, rubbing comforting circles at your sensitive clit, contradicting his rough demeanor. "Dirty fuckin' slut..."

You can feel the car rock with every thrust he makes into you, the windows fogged from the combination of your hot breath with his. There's no doubt anyone who passes can tell exactly what's going on inside, especially with how loud your cries and moans are.

His thrusts pick up both in speed and in force, practically stabbing at your sweet spot.

"Hurttss.. T-Toji! Please!" you sob, hot tears welling up in your eyes when he continues his rough, nonhuman pace. With each thrust into your pussy, the edges of your vision blur from the overwhelming pressure of it all.

"G'na cum princess, shit..." he groans, pushing your legs into your chest, trying to get deeper into you.

You cry and whine his name, pleading for him to stop despite every part of you wanting more. He continues hammering into your sweet spot, grunting.

"Just be quiet, almost done pretty girl..." he says hoarsely, pace unwavering as he continues to pound you with endless stamina. Your body is sticking to his leather seats from your sweat, causing pain with each thrust that drags your skin across his seats. Though you're far too focused on him as he presses his tip right into use sweet spot, spilling his cum into your cunt.

He stills his pace, keeping himself buried in your hole as he finishes coming inside you. "That's a good fuckin' girl," he coos in your ear. All you can do at this point is pant, mouth hanging open from the pleasure and exhaustion filling your body as you drench his cock in your own fluids.

With all his anger completely spent, he pulls out of you slowly, his cock soaked in your mixed fluids.

"Such a good girl f'me hm?" he hums, slapping your ass. "Lettin' me take my anger out on her pretty cunt."

Both your fluids drip out your cunt, his hand cupping over it to stop the leaking.

"Gonna keep it all inside, right pretty?" he smiles wide at your nod when you turn your head back to face him.

"That's my girl."

Pulling your panties up effortlessly, he dresses you back up before setting you back in the front passenger. Luckily, his backseat wasn't as messy as your sex was, the only thing drenching the seats being both of your sweat and some of your own climax moving in with it.

He slides in the drivers seat, starting up his car. You know for a fact his manager and any people still lingering from after the race had heard your... ordeal.

"Fancy dinner for t'night, princess?" his scar curls with his lips into a smile as he pats your upper thigh.

All it takes is a nod from your and he's off, driving you to whichever fancy revenue you request. What a gentleman he is.

[aurumacadicus]

Listen, Steve is grateful he gets to work at a Stark-funded hospital. He is. Not only is the prestige of working there even for a year going to carry him through his entire career, but if he stays for five years, the Maria Stark Foundation will pay off all of his student loans. Their clientele are people typically in poverty and he loves that he can help the less fortunate. It's all he ever wanted to do after watching his single mother scrimp and save as a nurse just to make sure they had a roof over their heads. He would never do anything to jeopardize his position or the reputation of the hospital.

"That custodian is going to be the reason you're fired," Natasha declares, and both Clint and Bucky spin from their nursing charts just in time to watch Steve almost fall over as he attempts to get one more glimpse of Tony's ass as he pushes his cart, whistling, toward the elevator. "Is this your way of getting out of the gala? Getting shit-canned the day before?"

"Are you going to tattle on me to Dr. Potts?" Steve asks her bluntly.

Natasha says nothing for several minutes, mulling the idea over in her head. Finally, though, she mutters, "I guess you're better than Hammer. He actually put his hands on Tony."

Steve doesn't know how to respond, because he'd only gotten his position after Dr. Hammer had groped Tony one too many times (apparently Tony had never reported it? It had actually been one of the nurses) and got fired for it. Again, he's grateful for the position, but he knows other doctors would shank him for the opportunity. He's just looking, but maybe he shouldn't look? Tony isn't a piece of meat. He's a respected member of the hospital staff.

Tony stops and bends over to pick up a piece of garbage on the floor, and even Natasha whimpers as his pants lovingly cup each of his cheeks.

Luckily, they're saved by one of the PR interns coming out of a hospital room and chirping, "Are you going to the gala tomorrow, Mr. Tony?"

"Peter how many times do I have to tell you," Tony begins, sighing, then shakes his head. "Yes, my mother is finally forcing me to show up for the gala."

Steve does a minute fist pump, and Bucky immediately drags him into a noogie that makes him squawk about his hair in probably the most unattractive manner possible.

--

"Gala" is probably too fancy a term for it. Unlike the Foundation galas, where the Stark family squeezes donations from the other wealthy elite for all they muster, this is more of a get-together between other hospitals to compare notes. Women are in cocktail dresses and the men are a healthy mix of suits and slacks-and-polos. The only people really decked out in formal wear are those with the foundation.

Steve is trying to be very casual as he keeps an eye out for Tony. He hasn't seen him yet, but he's hoping to ask Tony for at least one dance. Dr. Potts had said Tony liked to dance when he'd been talking with her and Natasha at the start of the gala. (She'd made really deliberate eye contact with him when she'd said so, too, so Steve figures she at least approves of him??? Even if she also kind of scares him.)

"Oh my God," Bruce whispers, wine dripping down his chin. He's gone ashen.

Steve and Thor turn to see what he's looking at, and Steve immediately understands. He feels as if he's just been simultaneously punched in the gut and head.

Because Mrs. Stark has finally arrived at her gala, dressed to the nines and yet somehow making everyone feel at ease in their own clothes. She's being escorted by a handsome man in a tuxedo.

The man looks a lot like Tony from the custodial department. But Mrs. Stark keeps loudly and proudly announcing that he's her son.

"I'm so fired," Steve whispers, voice cracking, as Bucky finally steps up beside him and claps him on the shoulder.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Home Again

Does anyone even read Hunger Games fanfics anymore?? I don't know, and I don't really care! I recently reread the series to get out of a reading slump, and now I'm hyperfixating again so... you guys get this which will probably turn into a multipart series because I FEEL LIKE IT, OKAY? Tl;dr: I'll do what I want.

Johanna Mason x fem!reader Warnings: Massive HUGE warnings for violence, blood, murder, etc., but also an especially HUGE warning for sexual assault, trauma in general, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything) Word count: 2.5k

Summary: You're freshly home from winning the 73rd Hunger Games, and all you really want is for things to go back to normal for you and your brother. But now you're in the Victor's Village. And now Johanna Mason, who won the year before you, is your neighbor.

It’s not that you didn’t like the house in the Victor’s Village. It was objectively better than the cabin you and Leevee had lived in before. But at the cabin, you’d had neighbors. People who knew you, who looked after you and Leevee after the fever took your parents, even though you insisted you work in exchange for every loaf of bread, every mended pair of pants.

You took care of him as best you could, after your parents died. You dropped out of school and went to work in the lumber yards. Leevee went to school, of course, but his teachers didn’t teach him much of anything. There was something different about him, a bit off. Always had been, since he was born. The people in Seven called him slow, and maybe he was in some ways, but he was also kind and bighearted and quick to laugh and full of joy–traits hard-pressed to come by in a place like this. So everyone took to him and everyone looked out for him. They had a name for his affliction in the Capitol. But you didn’t like them naming something wrong with Leevee, as if what made him different was all there was to him. So you paid it no mind. To you, he was just your Leevee. Perfect just like he was.

It was hard to believe it'd only been three weeks since the Reaping. When your name had been called, you kept your eyes lasered in on the branches of a pine tree in the distance. You could hear Leevee calling your name from the crowd, confused about why you were on stage, and your heart felt like it was being pulled apart. But you would not cry. You wouldn’t let these Capitol people see you cry. It was not for them to see.

Your neighbor, Otta, a widow, had brought Leevee to see you before you had to leave. Only then did you let yourself cry and, even then, he hadn’t understood. He’d taken his handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to your face, and you told him to listen to Otta and the neighbors. That you were going away and you might not be back for a while, but that you loved him very much. Listen to Otta, you said. Keep those listening ears on, young man. And then he was gone. Or, rather, you were.

Before the Games, you hadn’t fancied your chances at winning. Sure, you were strong and, at eighteen, one of the oldest tributes. But you were very small, barely five feet tall, lithe and wiry. You could handle a saw and an ax fairly well from your time in the lumber yard, but you couldn’t imagine sawing through someone. You couldn’t imagine killing someone at all. Even worse was the thought of Leevee watching you kill someone or watching you die. You hoped Otta would cover his eyes.

The arena was the only thing in your favor during the 73rd Hunger Games. A coastal ecosystem. Not rainforest, like parts of Seven, but tall, spindly pines that bent in the wind. It wasn’t exactly like home, but you were nothing if not comfortable around trees. Your saving grace in the Games turned out to be your size. The trees were impossible but all for the smallest of the tributes–you and the youngest–to climb. The first night you spent in one of those pines, you thought you might crash to your death from all the swaying, but once you acclimated, it was like the tree was rocking you. It would have been nice if not for the cannons in the air, if not for the constant terror.

You managed to find plants to eat, to catch fish in the small river that trickled into the artificial ocean. Your Games lasted six days, and you spent most of it in the trees.

That last night… You knew you’d have to kill him. The Career from One. But he was so big–a full foot and a half taller than you and stocky to boot–and vicious. You didn’t even have a real weapon, just some river rocks and a bit of your shirt you’d been using as a sling. But One–you didn’t even like to hear his name now, didn’t like to remember it–he’d found the superior weapon. You’d woken up to your tree shaking, to the tell-tale crackling and groaning of a trunk in distress. One had an ax, and the trees here were so spindly, it’d be a matter of minutes before it toppled, especially with your weight at the top. You tried to scramble down far enough that when the tree fell, you wouldn’t die from it, but you still had a long way to go when the trunk cracked.

It was the landing that did you in. You hit the ground so hard it knocked your breath out. Knocked your brain pretty good, too, based on how blurry everything was afterward. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, and that few seconds was all One needed. He was on top of you, and the weight of him made it even harder to catch your breath. You were faintly aware of your body fighting back, but it was like fighting back against a mountain. You screamed when he stabbed long hunting knives into either of your forearms, all the way through, pinning you to the ground, and almost passed out from the pain. This was it. This was how you'd die. You’d like to say you thought of Leevee, but all you thought of was how scared you were.

But… he wasn’t killing you. He wasn’t getting another weapon. He was… undressing? And suddenly you remembered that there were things worse than death. You screamed and screamed until your throat gave out. You didn’t care who saw you cry now, couldn’t have stopped the tears if you’d wanted to. People didn’t do this in the Games. They murdered each other. They hurt each other. They tore one another to bits. But they didn’t do this. Surely, the Capitol wouldn’t let this happen, wouldn’t let this air on TV. There was a line, surely. But as soon as you thought it, the hope left your body deflated and empty except for the man–the boy, mere months older than you–grunting above you. There was no line. Not where the Capitol was involved.

But somewhere in your pain-addled brain, you realized that he was… occupied, which meant he wasn’t keeping a close enough eye on his weapons. You screamed as you wrenched one of your arms out of the ground and pulled the knife from your other wrist. There was a moment, right at the last second, where he looked up and understood what you were doing, but it was too late by then. The last thing you remembered from the arena was plunging the knife into his neck.

When they made you watch the replay of your “victory,” you’d hardly recognized yourself. Covered in blood, lips curled up in a snarl, as if you were an animal. You hadn’t stopped at his neck. You’d stabbed him over and over and over. You’d stabbed his genitals so many times there was nothing left but a mangled, bloody mess. And then you’d passed out.

And, to be frank, you could never bring yourself to feel any remorse over it. For the others you’d killed, the ones who’d happened by your perch over the river, and died quickly from a stone to the temple–you felt awful. It tore you apart. But One? For what he had done to you, he deserved every moment of his gruesome, painful death.

Now that you were back in Seven, back with Leevee, and moved into the Victor’s Village, you knew that it would never be the same. Not with the people that knew you before. Everyone looked at you like a wounded animal, like someone to be pitied. The assault had traumatized the entire nation. Even the Capitol viewers had so disliked the “assault narrative,” that the Games Committee had put forth a blanket statement that, in the future, sexual violence would be met with a swift and immediate death. One of your old neighbors told you that you should feel proud that you made a difference in the future games, protecting future tributes. You’d gone home and vomited, as you did every night after you woke up screaming, sweating, feeling the weight of One on top of you.

Your solace these days was Leevee. You were struggling to get used to the isolation of the Victor’s Village, even though your tendency now was to isolate yourself anyway. He was so happy to have you back. He didn’t really understand where you’d gone. Otta and the others had told him you were “camping,” and that’s where you were when he saw you on the screens.

You didn’t need to work in the lumber yard anymore, so you spent long days with Leevee. Now that you had time, you were teaching him things that the instructors at school didn’t bother with, like how to read. And you’d left school so early to take care of him that you had learning to do, too. There wasn’t much of a library to speak of, in Seven, but oddly enough your house at the Victor’s Village had come stocked with books, and you were making your way through all of them.

Your favorite part of the day was your afternoon walk with Leevee. Long and leisurely. You spent a lot of time at the fountain in the center of the Victor’s houses. You gave him stones to throw in and fished them out, barefoot in the water. You had the fountain and the Village pretty much to yourself. Just Blight, who kept to himself, and Johanna, who’d won two years ago. You had known Johanna a little, at school, but you'd never spoken much, just in passing. You’d dropped out so early, there hadn’t been much time for friends.

Johanna seemed to have built some kind of improvised woodshop outside of her house, and she was out there quite a bit, but you never approached her. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who took kindly to strangers, especially since her Games, two years before yours. She’d been belligerent and hostile in the Capitol and, in retaliation, they’d killed her family. Officially, of course, they’d died of the fever. Unofficially, Snow’s roses, left on each of their deathbeds for Johanna to find when she’d returned from a day in the forest, were warning enough.

But you noticed her watching you on your walks with Leevee, when you played with him at the fountain. Felt her eyes on you and tried to ignore them. They were like everyone else’s–full of pity. And you were so tired of being pitied. Yes, it had been awful. Yes, there were nights that you jerked awake and wished One had just killed you instead of leaving you like this. But then who would Leevee have? He needed you.

One day, when you and Leevee walked past Johanna's house on the way to the fountain, you found her sitting on her porch steps, staring as usual. Her eyes were hard and direct, and you found it hard to meet them. You were tired of this. So tired.

“Leevee, go ahead to the fountain, young man. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Leevee happily ran ahead, and you whipped your head around to face Johanna, pulling yourself into as imposing a figure as you could manage in your tiny frame. Which, given that you had stabbed a man to death, was maybe more than you could hope for otherwise. 

You glared at her, finally meeting her cool eyes. “Stop looking at me like that,” you spat, your voice steady and sharp.

Johanna looked almost… amused? She stood and walked toward you, smirking. “Like what, half-pint?”

You hadn’t really expected her to engage with you at all, and you were losing confidence quickly. Johanna was taller than you, more confident than you, cooler than you, tougher than you, prettier than you. You stopped yourself. Prettier? Who cares about prettier?!

“Like you feel sorry for me! Look at me like an animal or a fucking murderer, I don’t care. Just…” You deflated slightly, shifting your eyes to the ground. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Johanna was quiet for a moment, as if she was sizing you up. You wished you could tell what she was thinking. You wanted Johanna to like you or at least tolerate you but, then, did Johanna actually like anybody?

“Okay,” she said and shrugged. You couldn’t quite believe it. Would it really be that easy? “I’ll look at you like you are.”

“Like I am?”

“Mmhm.”

You waited for her to elaborate, but she never did, instead turning and walking back toward her porch. You shook your head and went to meet Leevee by the fountain. You hoped you hadn’t fucked it up. Was this Johanna’s version of friendly? You weren’t really sure. You got the feeling you’d know if she didn’t like you.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You stopped and looked behind you to find Johanna trotting up, holding something in her hands. She handed you the object–a small sailboat carved out of wood. You looked at the boat–so smooth, so beautifully crafted–and then at Johanna, confused.

“For your brother,” she explained. “To use in the fountain. It’s made of cedar, so it’ll float.”

You were stunned speechless, watching Johanna, who kept her eyes on some fixed point in the distance and wrung her hands as if she were… nervous? Johanna, nervous? And suddenly, she didn’t seem so intimidating to you, this girl who’d orchestrated a bloodbath to win the Games. Who’d been so filled with rage and hurt by the part she’d been forced to play, only to have everyone she loved taken from her. She wasn’t scary at all, you realized. Not really. She was like you. She was a scared, angry girl who’d done what she had to do to survive.

“Anyway,” she said, eager for the moment to end. “See you never, shortstuff.” She hurried back toward her house, but you yelled after her.

“Hey, Johanna! You could go on a walk with us sometime. You know, if you wanted.”

“Why would I want to hang out with you!?” she called without turning back.

You grinned. So Johanna might take a little work. That was okay. You had time. You had nothing but time now.

You approached Leevee, who was finding nearby sticks to throw in the fountain.

“Hey, young man,” you said, beckoning him over. “Look at this! Johanna made it for you!”

And, oh, you wished she could have seen his eyes light up. You had a hunch that she was still watching, from her window or her woodshop or wherever she’d planted herself. Leevee could melt anyone’s heart, even yours. Maybe even hers.

[goneadrift]

References are great and really useful way to pinpoint what exactly you want to see 😍

I wonder if one of these photos is from the same play you used — i have these pic as references for Havolina i didn't get the chance to commission 😭

This sketchbook. Is only about THEM. And I'm far from sad about it.

😇

[gabessquishytum]

I saw the corporate world warprize au idea and it is hilarious!

Tl;dr: Dream has a huge crush on hob and his solution is to just take over hob’s company and make hob his personal assistant.

Alternate take: hob has sort of always had a secretary fantasy anyway so even though he’s super mad he’s also super into it? Yelling at dream but also rock hard in his pants…

Dream starts to apologize for going about his crush in the worst possible way and somehow this only makes hob more mad? Dream spent billions of dollars stealing his company and getting hob to grovel at his feet and now hob doesn’t even get to suck his cock? He doesn’t even get fucked?

Unacceptable.

Hob demands that dream dom the absolute hell out of him. Hob outlines his boundaries and kinks in no uncertain terms and then bends over Dream’s new desk and begs for Dream’s long fingers stuffed in his arse.

Hob is significantly less mad when dream finally takes him in hand and gives him maintenance spankings, showers of lingerie and lots of hard play and aftercare.

I love this take on the power dynamic!!!! I can totally imagine Hob ordering Dream to dominate him. Iconic.

Dream has to practice out of hours because he's never been anyone's dom and Hob has such high expectations. Dream studies all the material he can find, watches hundreds of videos and buys more toys than he can ever possibly use. He refuses to be a disappointment to his beloved Hob; he will be the best damned dom the world has ever seen! He dresses up in the most expensive corporate menswear he can find, buys fancy watches and stationery and even cars! All the project the image that Hob wants from him. Hob is honestly quite impressed by the show that Dream puts on just for him.

Hob dresses up in cute little skirts or tailored trousers that really show off his arse, and he spends all day distracting Dream from doing any actual work. One flutter of his eyelashes and Dream is willing to hang up his call and spread Hob out over the desk, to see which particular plug he's got in his pretty hole today. And if Hob wants to spend the afternoon shoved under Dream’s desk, warming his cock, then that's exactly what he gets. Dream never denies him a single thing.

There's no secret about who's really in charge, but it all works perfectly. Hob is a happy and carefree slut, and Dream would walk through hell to keep him that way <3

[shsl-analyzer-guy]

In-Depth Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 4: Yasuhiro Hagakure

I've actually managed to hype myself up a good bit for this one, despite the fact I'm not fond of Hiro. If there's anything I've learned since starting this series, it's that taking the time to actually absorb these characters and their full existence in the narrative reveals a lot more than you get just by playing the game normally, and I'm hopeful that doing that will make Hiro that much better of a character for me. So, let's dive in.

Per usual, this analysis uses only official materials from the DR series, primarily the english translation of the game. If you aren't that interested in lengthy yapping, then keep scrolling.

Part 1- Character Design

Yasuhiro Hagakure wears several layers of clothing, having a haramaki, white button-up, and his old high school uniform all on over a yellow shirt and a pair of baggy black pants tied up with a yellow bow. His old high school emblem is purposefully designed to look like the yin and yang symbol, and his hair is up in locs styled to bend backwards and stick out at odd angles.

Yasuhiro is a dual character, typically either being the most relaxed or the most panicked person in the room. This sort of duality is likely why he was given the yin and yang symbol, a symbol of balance, along with his talent. Yasuhiro was given the talent of SHSL Fortune Teller, or Ultimate Clairvoyant, and has a unique connection to the spirit world. This may also be why his hair is designed to stick out, similar to how when you touch an object with enough static, your hair stands up. In this way, we can see Yasuhiro is visibly connected to the spirit world at all times.

Part 2- Character Introduction

Hiro is actually the first character to speak in-game after Makoto's self-introduction, calling out in surprise when Makoto gets to the main hall with everyone else("Woah, hey! Another new kid?") He then continues on to be the first one we're able to identify as speaking after the class panover is completed.

This immediately makes him stick out, as this is the character the game makes a point to show you directly before anyone else- not Sayaka, Kyoko, Byakuya- nope, Hiro is first and foremost. Despite this, he fades into the background of the conversation almost immediately after as everyone else decides to introduce themselves to each other. When we get back to his introduction(one of the last ones we see), he introduces himself as someone who takes it easy, and tells you to do the same. We know from Makoto's internal dialogue that he has little to no knowledge on fortune telling, and thus, have almost no insight to Hiro's perspective. We also learn that within the psychic community, he's referred to as 'Supernova'. As he begins to speak, though, we learn exactly what the game's plan for his clairvoyance is: a big joke.

Though, he himself admits he's joking around, and invites Makoto to talk about Lemurian civilization. Lemuria is a debunked theory about a potential 8th continent that was believed to have sunk into the Indian Ocean, disproved by further research on continental drift and plate tectonics. Despite this, it still remains as a subject of conspiracy for many, and tells us a lot about Hiro's interests. Combined with his talent in fortune-telling, Hiro is someone with a fascination for what lies beneath the surface of human understanding. We also learn that he's of drinking age(20 in Japan, though this was changed to 21 in the English translation to reflect international drinking laws). He admits this is due to being held back a few years, waving it off as a 'long story' that we never get to hear.

As the class continues to talk, he remains completely calm, and insists it's all part of the fancy school's orientation. He continues to hold this belief even after Monokuma appears at the entrance ceremony, playing off Monokuma's threat of the killing game and Monokuma himself as a bit.

"Reveal the trick...?" "Yeah, cuz I mean... Y'know, this is all some kinda trick and all, right? So uh, like..."

So our first impression of Hiro is that he's a laidback older guy who isn't the sharpest knife in the kitchen, and that he's into conspiracies.

Part 3- Early Game Development

Once the game's officially started, Hiro very much takes a backseat so the story and mystery can develop, to the point where even when the entire class is talking about their explorations and what they found, Hiro remains silent, only telling the others to chill and continuing to say he believes this is all planned by the school. He appears completely unbothered by the whole situation.

"I mean, this was all planned out, right? The people in charge of Hope's Peak put this all together, right? Man, if I got stressed every time something like this happened, I'd have ectoplasm shooting out my mouth!"

Despite this, if you take the opportunity to talk to him in the laundry room the following morning, you get this:

Despite Hiro's insistence that this is all normal, he's run himself ragged trying to find out why they're trapped in the school. It suggests that his relaxed attitude towards the situation may be some kind of a facade to keep both himself and the others calm. He continues to insist upon it even after multiple days have passed, when Monokuma reappears again to give out the motive videos("Why the hell are you laughing?" "I'm just impressed at the total commitment to this whole act.") He refuses to acknowledge the mere possibility of this situation being an actual threat to their lives, even after watching the motive video of (presumably) his mother and sister in danger.

He insists on it to the point where he doesn't realize the truth of the situation until "Junko" is impaled with a ton of spears and dies right in front of him, and even then, his reaction is delayed, not realizing until Makoto and Byakuya check her for a pulse.

"Sh-she's... dead!? Then that means...! That means everything that's happened so far is real!? It's not a joke or whatever!? It's really real!? Hell no! Someone save me! Let me outta here! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!" "You're j-just now accepting that...?"

He switches from total calm to ungodly terror, as he didn't experience the dread leading up to the incident that everyone else did. The horror renders him immobile for nearly the entire investigation, only pulled out of shock when Makoto shows him his broken glass ball.

"Did that guy totally dupe me!? He said it belonged to the pillars of history... Genghis Khan, George Washington, Napoleon... He said whoever controlled that crystal ball controlled the world! Was that seriously all BS!?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but how much did you pay for that thing?" "Everything I'd saved up from fortune-telling for two full years. Came out to be like... a million."

Not only did he pay that much for what was pretty obviously a glass ball, he fully believed that story despite the fact one of the named holders that 'controlled the world' was a failed emperor that died in exile. It is a hand-sized glass ball. Paying $1M in USD shouldn't have even been on the table in the first place.

Hiro goes into the next chapter still completely panicking, babbling on to Makoto about the 'ill omen' that is the items set in the display case and once again begging to the heavens to be released from the school.

"Ahhh! I've been struck with knowledge! It's an ill omen of total devastation and ruin! L-Let me outta here! Let me ouuuut!"

It's a bit late, as the only dangerous item from that case was used in the previous murder, but better late than never, I suppose.

Prior to the motive announcement, Hiro reveals that he was the one to pick up on the goings-on outside of Hope's Peak, having been in the dining hall and heard what he described as 'noises like a construction site'. It's important enough that Monokuma confirms the noises to be a) real and b) the result of some level of violence, as his provided explanations are an explosion or machine gun. So although Hiro himself hasn't had much of a story yet, he's still keeping his ears open and is at least paying some attention to the problem at hand now.

During the investigation, Hiro ends up in a much better position, now able to not go into total shock and do an investigation of his own. Although it doesn't yield many results, talking to him makes it clear that he's both trying to find something useful and trying to keep what information he does have private before the trial, which is progress. He's doing something instead of just sitting on his ass, and he's trying to remain secretive, even if he's really bad at it.

When the trial comes around, he's excited to provide evidence, being the one to tell the class about the e-handbooks in the mailbox despite insistence that he probably couldn't help anyway. Despite this, he takes it well when he's told he's wrong the second he's given a reason.

"No, she DID have a way! And I can tell you what it was!" "I highly doubt that." "Shut up! I'm telling you, I know how she could've done it!" ('it' being Chihiro entering the girls' locker room)

"She used the thing that was in the main hall!" "Huh? What thing?" "I'm talkin' about Leon's handbook, of course!"

"Why not!?" "Because Leon's handbook was broken." "Oh! Well then yeah, I guess that'd be pretty impossible, huh?"

Part 4- Midgame Events (In fact, we're gonna frame you for murder!)

Now that Taka's grieving, Hiro remembers he's significantly older than the rest of the class and decides to step up as the class rep and keep everyone calm and focused, at least until Taka can take over again. Although it doesn't last for very long, it's a nice gesture on Hiro's part, and shows some level of responsibility from him.

He's the one to direct the class to the 3rd floor and opens up to conversation about what they found, doing everything he can think of to both keep the class' gaze fixed ahead and try to rouse Taka from his silent state, though this falls apart the second Hina starts talking about a ghost.

Despite his efforts, Kyoko is the one who's really in charge here, and instead, Hiro becomes a messenger for her, alerting the rest of the class to 'bathtime' and acting as a voice of reason when both Hifumi and Taka become obsessed with Alter Ego.

"I happened to do a psychic reading for a certain famous CEO once... And that guy was seriously head over heels for a mannequin. He had a wedding and everything! And your eyes just now... I saw the same look in HIS eyes!"

"Oh, Taka! Are you back!?" "Who the hell's Taka!?" "Um... you?"

He also delivers letters to everyone in class when Kyoko has an important update on Alter Ego, assuming that the files have been decrypted. It's also worth noting he has remarkably clean penmanship, and this is attributed to his supernatural beliefs.

The following morning, when Hiro is one of the many students to go missing, Celeste sets it up so that almost everyone is led to believe that Hiro is the obvious culprit before he even so much as gets a chance to defend himself- falsifying and planting evidence, removing proof of innocence to the best of her ability, and manipulating Hifumi to help her- all with the stroke of luck in her favor that even after remembering his life before the game, Hifumi still couldn't betray her when he tried because her legal surname was the same as his first. On a surface level, almost every slip-up or seemingly stupid move was shrugged off as 'well, Hiro's an idiot anyway, so he probably didn't realize,' which is exactly what Celeste bet on. The only one who wouldn't automatically fall under this assumption (Kyoko) was so distracted by her own schemes that she was pulled out of the investigation for the vast majority of it. Even Byakuya completely fell for it until Makoto pointed out some of the inconsistencies to him.

But here's the thing: Hiro's gullible, not stupid. He may fall for other people's schemes, but he can just as easily craft his own and sell them, even when the person being sold to knows they're being duped to some degree. He's a businessman at heart, and you can't become a successful businessman if your schemes don't work. If Celeste wanted her plan to work, then she chose the wrong guy to frame. (The game never actually addresses this directly, but from a meta perspective, it's pretty obvious Hiro is just being used as a red herring, and it's all symbolized in his handwriting- Hiro is more put-together than he's given credit for, and that truth creates the physical evidence of his innocence Celeste couldn't change.)

I mean, Hiro deliberately plays up his own stupidity in the trial, taking the argument that was supposed to work against him and using it in his favor to convince everyone around him of his own incompetency. That's not the strategy of someone incapable of working out a survival plan.

"Come on, I'm not smart enough to think of trying to change my handwriting anyway!" <- a direct contradiction to when he writes Toko's name in blood in handwriting not of his own in the following chapter

Hiro being a red-herring suspect for a murder is quickly followed up with Hiro being a red-herring suspect for a murder. Yes, they do it twice, but this time, Hiro himself believes he's responsible. So there's enough differentiation to warrant it within the plot.

With chapter 4, Hiro's paranoia hits an all-new level. And for good reason, too. Not only have there been 5 attempted murders in the span of just over 2 weeks, 3 of which were intentional and 4 of which were successful, there's also a known serial killer chilling with the rest of the class that's known specifically for attacking men. Not only that, he was literally framed for a double murder case just a couple days ago, and to top it all off, Sakura, the visibly strongest person not only in the class, but also officially recognized as strongest person in the world, has been outed as a spy for Monokuma. So naturally, Hiro's a little on edge when he receives the invite from Sakura to meet in the rec room. So when he hears her muttering to herself-

"This is it... I'm going to end it today... I'm going to end... everything." "As soon as I heard that, I just knew... I knew she was gonna try and kill me! She was gonna kill me and make her escape!"

So, rather then let that potential end happen, he made the panicked decision to defend himself.

He admits to this pretty quickly in the trial as well, as the moment the dying message is disproven as being from Sakura, he caves and tells them everything that happened from his perspective. And he feels terrible about it, too, accepting that he has to die for what he did.

"Well, that's what happened. Go ahead, roast me, boil me, do whatever you want..."

Once Makoto and Kyoko are able to prove he's innocent, it's a massive weight off his shoulders. His fear and panic all but disappear, and he spends the rest of the trial in a much more relaxed state.

And once the trial is over, and they've all heard the truth about Sakura's case, he throws his full support to Hina and Sakura, unable to be mad at either of them.

"This is because of our misplaced hatred. I don't blame her(Sakura)! I CAN'T blame her! And nobody can blame Hina, either!"

Besides being a suspect in both murder cases, Hiro has another important moment in chapter 4. At breakfast on the first morning, after sharing his prediction of no more murders, he tells the story of his encounter with aliens, in which a burger that was supposedly 100% beef was beamed up by an alien spaceship. And because aliens supposedly steal cows, the meat separated and only took 30% of the meat. When he went back to the restaurant, they admitted to mixing pork into the meat. This story is representative of Hiro's own fortune-telling, as only 30% of his predictions are real and the rest are done just for money.

Part 5- Character Relationships

Though none of them are given a main focus in-game, Hiro has fairly important dynamics with about half the cast of THH. Actually, basically everyone that made it past chapter 2 has an established dynamic with Hiro.

5.1- Kiyotaka Ishimaru

Though it's a bit of a one-sided relationship, Hiro is the only character to show any concern for Taka going into chapter 3. After the brutal death of Mondo, Taka goes comatose, and won't eat, sleep, or speak to anyone. It's when in this state that Hiro attempts to get him back in action as class rep, more than once. Unfortunately, he never really succeeds, though this does leave us with the implication that he was the one who told Taka about Alter Ego, as it doesn't make sense for it to have been anyone else at this point.

5.2- Hifumi Yamada

Similar to Taka, Hifumi spends chapter 3 with a special interest in Alter Ego. Hiro is the one that tries to get through to him, calling out his strange behavior and likening it to a former client in love with a mannequin. The two of them also bounce off of each other quite a bit in the first half of the game during group conversations, and when they do, it often paints Hiro in a more reasonable light. As the older and therefore more mature of the two, he knows when Hifumi is full of shit and calls him on it, particularly when he's being horny("But he's a guy! And also a computer program!" "Oh, that aspect is no problem." "That... aspect?").

Hifumi later goes on to work with Celeste to frame him for the murder of both Taka and himself. It's unclear if he had any resentment for Hiro or if he just agreed with Celeste that he'd make a good scapegoat.

5.3- Celestia Ludenberg

Celeste frames him for murder, despite the fact that they didn't have much interaction before then. Why Hiro, though?

"Because you're stupid." "That's it!?" "And in that regard, I made the right choice. I'm so glad your stupidity surpassed my every expectation. Life must have been tough on your parents, though." "I feel like I could cry..."

Not only is this one final dig from her before her execution, it's also just blatantly wrong. Not only was Hiro not there for the majority of the investigation(by her design), but the supposed stupidity of his character she's referencing had almost no effect on the investigation or trial. Rather, it was the assumptions of the rest of the cast that benefitted her, with characters like Hina and Byakuya going along with the same assumption she wanted them to. He was almost immediately proven innocent by Makoto, and was only considered a suspect because Celeste herself kept hounding the idea.

In short, this proved Celeste the idiot. She didn't know her opponent at all, and so she lost, lying about it to the bitter end.

5.4- Sakura Ogami

Hiro's lack of a significant relationship with her is more important than what they did have. Throughout THH, Hiro consistently refers to Sakura not by name, but by the demeaning nickname given to her online, 'Ogre', due to how physically imposing she is. As such, the two never really connect, and when she's outed by Monokuma as the spy, he turns against her immediately, even when they were relatively friendly with each other up until that point. He doesn't necessarily want to distrust her, but not only is her allegiance under fire, but he's already been betrayed and directly put in the line of fire once. He has to consider his safety first, so he cuts her out with the others, though he does say if she makes good on her assertion to defeat the mastermind, that he'll forgive her("If she really can beat the mastermind like she said, that'd go a long way in my mind...").

But even if he isn't condemning her to hell like Byakuya and Toko, he still doesn't know her. He never bothered to try. So when she invites him to talk, he stays on his guard. The game has rendered him unable to connect to her, and so when he hears her speak of 'ending everything', he can only assume the worst. And it leads him to open the case of Sakura's attacker- not Toko, not Jack, not Byakuya. Hiro starts it. And he carries that guilt into her trial.

5.4- Byakuya Togami, Aoi Asahina, Toko Fukawa, Genocide Jill

Hiro has a fairly antagonistic relationship with the other non-main-character survivors(and Byakuya, if you consider him one). The 5 of them spend most of the latter half of the game at each other's throats, often for miniscule, petty things. This is mostly used as a source of comedy, with each pointing out the others' flaws and making each other look dumb. However, when it comes down to it, they can get along and cooperate when it's important.

He gets along best with Hina, as both were part of the overarching group from the beginning, and both are consistently present whenever the group splits up(for example, before Chihiro's body is found). And because Toko and Jack follow Byakuya around, and Makoto and Kyoko are the main characters, the two of them end up as an unintentional pair when it comes to group dialogue, even ganging up on Byakuya or Toko when appropriate. That said, Hina doesn't like him much, either.

5.5- Kyoko

Kyoko acknowledges Hiro's attempts to become the leader of the class in Taka's absence, and uses him to communicate with the rest of the class about Alter Ego when necessary. He acts as her messenger, suggesting she trusted him to some extent, enough to let him be the messenger. Their relationship isn't expanded upon outside of this, though.

5.6- Makoto Naegi

Despite his mounting paranoia and trust issues in the previous chapters, Hiro is shown to trust Makoto specifically, likely because he was the one to prove his innocence in both chapter 3 and 4. He holds Makoto in high regard, enthusiastically agreeing with Kyoko to let him hold the knife in chapter 5 and attempting to explain the dismantling of Monokuma to him: "I'll explain what's goin' on, Makoto. Cuz that's how much I like ya! Byakuya found this li'l fella layin' around, then we tore it apart!" "That doesn't explain anything..."

Part 6- Hiro's Clairvoyance

Despite Hiro's claims of only having a 30% accuracy rating at best, his fortune-telling and bouts of clairvoyance are accurate a good few times in THH. I'm not doing the math to see if it actually falls between 20-30%, but it is enough to be significant.

In the prologue and 1st chapter, Hiro insists that the killing game must be a prank because of his total certainty that the execs of Hope's Peak were the ones who locked them in the school. This is revealed to be true in chapter 4, when Alter Ego reveals the Hope's Peak Headmaster planned the shelter, and the board signed off on it.

In his 1st FTE, Hiro reveals he's already seen that his and Makoto's paths intersect, and that the mother of their children is the same woman. This becomes true if you get the bad ending in chapter 5.

The chapter 2 cover art has Hiro holding a manga with Taka and Celeste covered in blood, with the number 2 beside Taka. This accurately depicts that Celeste would kill Taka in the following chapter, and that he'd be one of two victims of hers.

In the start of chapter 4, Hiro reveals a prediction that there won't be any more murders. This turns out to be true, as the only other deaths after this are both by suicide.

Hiro's wild guess about what started the Tragedy was later proven in the series to be correct repeatedly- Hope's Peak students' deaths started and continued the domino effect of the Tragedy. Hajime became Izuru due to Natsumi's and Sato's murders; the student council were all slaughtered inside the school as the beta kg; the Reserve Course students killed all the Main Course students that weren't either 77-B or 78-B, and then committed mass suicide via brainwashing. All the students were killed.

Part 7- An Inner Look

During THH, we get a look at both Hiro's bedroom and his locker in the main story. This gives us a unique glimpse into his mentality that we don't get with anyone else in THH.

Interestingly, his room and his locker are very different, despite them both containing his fortune-telling materials. In his bedroom, his books are stacked fairly neatly on the desk, and his divination tools are organized, being set on separate tables with a protective tablecloth underneath. The singing bowl and incense- which work for ambience- are kept on one desk in the back, while his cards and dice are kept on the main table in the middle of the room. Meanwhile, his locker has his books shoved awkwardly into the bottom, while his divination tools are all lumped together on the top and have no separation or organization. The locker's state even leads Makoto to say that its owner "probably has organization problems in every part of their life". This may suggest that his room is clean for the sake of potential customers, or just that the lack of space in the locker was inconvenient.

Part 8- Late Game Events

When chapter 5 opens, Hiro's 'dumb guy' shenanigans are cranked up to the max. While everyone's investigating the 5th floor, talking to Hiro in the garden reveals his conspiracy theory on the inevitable global domination of the world by plants. He also gets excited about the 5 chickens, claiming the number 5 to "contain the mysteries of the cosmos" and says it's a good omen.

When he tells the rest of the survivors about the garden, he decides he wants to use the lawnmower to create crop circles, as a signal for help. What he fails to realize is that there are no crops in the school, and that no one would be able to see them from above if there were. It's this moment that Hina points out how ridiculous he's getting:

"What the heck's happened to you...? You weren't like this in the beginning, you know." "Well back then my personality hadn't quite solidified yet...!" "I didn't think it was possible, but I'm more disappointed in you now than I've ever been..."

This suggests Hiro's characterization, from the ground up, was designed to be laughed at. (That's a surprise tool that will help us later.)

When the other survivors decide to dismantle Monokuma, Hiro is the one who actually undergoes the process of dismantling and opening him up, with the only one we see helping with the parts to be Toko. This puts him directly under fire if Monokuma wakes up and decides to punish the perpetrator. It's safe to assume this is why he and Toko were chosen by Byakuya to do the actual dismantling. He also goes on to be the one to get the TV working in the data center, suggesting some level of proficiency with technology that's never explored again.

When the 5th trial begins, Hiro's panicking, insisting that Kyoko is a ghost("she's like the latest evolution in ghost technology!") and has to be corrected before the actual trial can start.

When the final investigation begins, and Kyoko, Byakuya, and Toko have all gone off on their own, Hiro decides he's going to go off on his own as well, declaring he's going to use his "totally awesome spirit power to figure out the mastermind's identity!" This declaration goes nowhere, as he's the only survivor you don't need to talk to before Monokuma's clue, and his only dialogue before the trial is him avoiding you. This 'totally awesome spirit power' is never used in the final trial, either.

When the final trial begins, Hiro is the first to make the accusation Monokuma wanted- that he was the only innocent one, and that everyone else was working together. But when Hina and Byakuya piggyback off of him, he's the first to realize that they've all been given the same evidence. Simultaneously, somehow, he's the last one to realize the evidence is fake("Wh-what? Wait, hold on... This doesn't make any sense... How can the three of us each have that kind of evidence!?")

When Junko reveals the truth to everyone, he's the first to beg for mercy. He's brought to despair- "We get it... We get it, okay? You're totally awesome, right? We get it already! So help us! I'll do anything! Just help me!" "A peasant begging for his life? How delightful! We've never witnessed such a travesty firsthand..." But when Makoto fights back, he's also the first one to embrace hope(assuming you shoot the characters in the order they appear):

"But to live means moving forward, right...? So even if it's hard... even if we're scared... we don't have any choice, do we? I want to keep on living! I want to open the next door! There must be something new waiting for me! So that's why... That's why...! No matter what, I need to get out of here! The whole fortune-telling thing doesn't matter anymore! What matters is my own gut feelings! I... I've decided to have faith in myself!"

He, along with the other survivors, votes for hope. Junko is executed, and the seven of them leave together.

Part 9- Ultra Despair Hagakure (yes we have to talk about this)

TW: discussion of pedophilia and incest. Skip to part 9 if you need to(5 paragraphs down).

Ultra Despair Hagakure, or UDH, is the spinoff-spinoff LN unlocked by completing "spinoff" game Ultra Despair Girls. It follows Yasuhiro Hagakure in Towa City as he's saved by former captive Kanon Nakajima, and the two of them try to survive the Monokumas and find a way to escape. The novel's state of canon is unclear, but it doesn't directly contradict anything in the main series continuity in terms of plot progression.

The problem with UDH (well, for Hiro anyway. Kanon is a whole other can of worms for the Leonalysis) is that UDH establishes Hiro as a pedophile. Kanon is 15, and says as much in her internal dialogue, but Hiro(who introduces himself as mid-20s) spends the LN being attracted to her, and that attraction combined with his money-hunger pushes him to stick with her, hoping to squeeze money out of her rich father upon their escape. He describes her as 'the type to have a baby by 21', and there are multiple instances of him being turned on by her, either while she's fighting the Monokumas or when she ends up physically leaned against him. All around, it's just a really unfortunate choice they made for his character that serves nothing to the main plot besides acting as a way to emphasize how cute Kanon is. Why did they choose to have Hiro act in this way towards Kanon? Simple: UDH is a fetish novel.

UDH adds no significant development to the worldbuilding or its pre-established characters, with two exceptions- Hiro, and Leon. Both become victims of immoral fetish content, though Leon at least gets the shield of plausible deniability from an unreliable narrator. Hiro doesn't get that since we see his first-person perspective. The plot of UDH is structured around Kanon, despite its being named after Hiro, and centers on her feelings of lust and desire for a relationship, using the setting of UDG as a backdrop. Hiro is an older man than Kanon, and Leon is Kanon's cousin. Both of these characters had their names and base personalities recycled to act as her love interests, as an excuse to write fetish content. It's as simple as that. And Hiro in particular suffers because he's the living and present man of the two, so to make the content, he's given perverted, sexual thoughts about Kanon, a 15 year old girl, as a grown adult in his 20s, not because it's something Hiro would've done, but because it's part of the older-guy fetish. It's unnecessary for his character, and doesn't appear at all in the next and final appearance he has in the series, nor does it ever come up outside of this LN.

UDH is a dark spot on the history of Yasuhiro Hagakure, and one of dubious canon at that. But it's still important to acknowledge that was written and released as official content within the DR franchise, and therefore, must be part of this character dissection. Ultimately, I've come to the conclusion that, due to the entire LN being primarily fetish content, it can't in good conscience be held up as part of Yasuhiro's own character. However, it is reflective of Kodaka's lack of care in the treatment of Yasuhiro Hagakure as a character.

Part 10- Danganronpa 3: Future Arc

Hiro, alongside Makoto, Kyoko, and Hina, are brought back as part of the lineup for DR3's Future Arc, participating in a new killing game with 12 new characters.

10.1- Character Design Pt 2

Hiro's design is updated to his Future Foundation uniform, with his pant sleeves rolled up, his blazer over his shoulders, and a bright blue tie. His locs are now pulled back, he's wearing thin-wire glasses, and he's pictured holding his crystal ball(though again, it breaks in the 1st episode).

10.2- Hiro's Subplot

In the first episode of the Future Arc, Hiro's left out of the meeting by the others and told to wait outside. He's then left out of the killing game and locked outside the building by accident when the exits are blown up, and left to fend for himself in occasional clips for over half of the season until Byakuya shows up to break into the building.

His only role in the anime is an occasional cutaway to him wondering what's going on inside, only to be shot at by a helicopter with a machine gun and barely survive unscathed. The anime straight up tells the audience the reason for this in one of the opening recaps:

He's the only survivor from THH not to play a significant role as well, as Makoto, Kyoko, and Hina are active in the kg, Byakuya is the one to lead the rescue effort, and Toko and Jack get a dedicated episode in Towa City with Komaru to hunt down Monaca. All this to say, his occasional bit of barely surviving is all he gets in comparison, which isn't much.

10.3- Byakuya Togami

As the only character Hiro has significant interaction with in the season, the relationship between Hiro and Byakuya is mildly expanded upon. Once Byakuya arrives, Hiro immediately falls in line beside him, following orders to lay explosives and try to break into the building, complaining all the while as Byakuya watches and directs him. It's all reminiscent of their relationship at the endgame of THH; however, Byakuya appears to be more fond of Hiro at this point, stopping him from triggering the trap in the lobby and keeping him out of danger at his own risk. In that vein of logic, Hiro being told to stay outside by not only Byakuya, but also Makoto, Hina, and Kyoko wasn't because 'no one likes him', it was because of genuine concern that he'd get caught up in something that wasn't his fault. It was because they liked him that he was safe.

Part 11- Racism in Danganronpa

As we've seen, Hiro is a character without much of a story to talk about. He's got his bit moments, and a banterous dynamic with the other survivors from THH, but even in his own novel, he doesn't have his own plot to speak of, nor does he ever receive any significant character growth in 8 years of DR history by real-world years. He is wholly a gag character, meant to be messy, stupid, and altogether unimportant in comparison to the rest of the cast. And to call this anything other than flat-out racism would be flat-out ignorance.

First off, in a series with over 100 characters, Hiro is one of 3-4 characters who are canonically dark-skinned(I can't remember if Akane was dark-skinned or is in "it's just a tan" club with Hina, Sakura, Teruteru, and Gonta). Of those, he's one of two black men, and the other is a racist caricature whose sole purpose is to die in demonstration of a 'game mechanic'(Daisaku Bandai). So already, we can clearly see that black men, as well as any other dark-skinned characters, aren't prioritized in DR's narrative.

When it comes to Hiro specifically, though, the specifics of his character- his design, his backstory, and the perception the other characters have of him- all at least partially stem from blatantly racist stereotypes. It's not just a matter of lack of rep, it's a matter of stereotypical and often outright offensive representation.

Scroll back up to see Hiro's THH design again. He's dressed in multiple layers, making him look 'grungy', like he doesn't care about his appearance, and he's the only dark-skinned character to have a black hairstyle throughout the entire series. There's a point in the game where, if you choose to speak to him in a group setting, Genocide Jill refers to him as "Afro Thunder" as a derogatory remark. Even from a character that gives everyone nicknames, this is clearly racism, as the other nicknames are plays on the characters' names ('Big Mac' for Makoto, 'Tick Tock' for Taka, etc).

While the details of Hiro's backstory aren't fully expanded upon, we do have enough information from his mother, Hiroko, and some of his dialogue in THH to have enough of an idea. Hiroko was a teen mother, and considering Hiro is in his mid-20s(23 at the youngest) while Hiroko is around 36 during the events of UDG according to the UDG artbook, that would mean she had him at age 13, at the oldest. In addition, Hiroko isn't dark-skinned, meaning that either Hiro got his color solely from his father, or his mother was biracial and just didn't get those genes. In addition, we know that his father wasn't around for most of his life, as he left Hiroko for an unspecified act she 'let go on too long,' which implies infidelity. We do know his dad was around long enough for Hiro to remember him, though, as he's able to recall an instance where his father burned their house down due to smoking in bed. Now, this may be on me, but the implication all this seems to suggest is that his father, who would've been black, left his family and left the teen mother to raise Hiro on her own, and that the one depiction we receive of him paints him as irresponsible for causing a house fire. It's not expressly canon, but it's the implication the given information leaves for the player, and is eerily similar to the stereotype that black men are irresponsible and absent fathers that knock up younger women.

Throughout all of THH, Hiro is perceived as stupid. Just about every character that interacts with Hiro calls him an idiot at least once, and he's repeatedly portrayed as not understanding what's going on around him. The only character that's ever less aware than he is at any given time is Genocide Jack or Toko, and that's because the two don't share memories. In chapter 3, his supposed idiocy is emphasized as the reason Celeste targeted and pinned a double-murder on him, and how she was able to get away with framing him for so long. Almost everyone agreed with her that Hiro's idiocy explained away the flaws in logic from his perspective as a killer. Byakuya even says as such("He probably thought that if nobody saw his face, it wouldn't matter if he was seen. Because he's an idiot, you see."). He falls for every little lie Monokuma drops over the course of the game, to the point where he contradicts himself at the start of the final trial. There's a moment in chapter 5 where Hina goes on about how stupid he is, and asks him what 10+10 is. It offends him to the point he forgets what question she asked, and when he asks her to repeat herself, she just says "Don't worry. You've already answered it." Even Makoto, the POV character who we're meant to project ourselves as player onto, goes on about how stupid and disorganized he is at multiple instances when talking to him. Not only do the other characters perceive him as stupid, but the game wants you as player to perceive him as stupid, too, at the detriment of his own characterization as a successful and sleazy businessman who's made millions. Stupid, disorganized idiots who spend $1M on a glass ball aren't normally charismatic and clever enough to be making that much at such a young age from the ground up.

And maybe, maybe, if Hiro were the only instance where a dark-skinned character were subject to this volume of stereotypes, and the rest of the dark-skinned characters were all excellently developed and unique and well, not written consistently with racist tropes, then you could try to make the argument that this was by mistake. That it wasn't fully intentional, or that the creator was just trying to make a variety of characters, whatever. But every single dark-skinned (or tanned) character in the series suffers from some kind of racist trope. If it's not this, or being a blatant caricature like Bandai, it's being a monster brute who's viewed as an inhuman monster(Sakura, Gonta), it's being an islander cultist who follows some indigenous violent god(Angie), etc. The racism within Danganronpa's dark-skinned characters is inherently a part of their characters, to the point where you cannot separate the sins of the author from the character. Yasuhiro Hagakure is a byproduct of racism, and it holds him back as a character from being expanded upon outside of what the stereotype allows so long as he's written by his creators.

Part 12- Fortune Telling Does Matter (Why we should care)

We've now thoroughly dissected Yasuhiro Hagakure and his role, or often lqack thereof, in the story. He's a gag character built on racist tropes that the creator didn't give a fuck about, and was lent out for a fetish piece. He's an idiot, a useless guy whose own creator built to be pointed at and laughed at. Why should anyone care about Hiro? The answer comes in the epilogue of THH, from Hiro himself:

"...Ah! I get it now! If there's no road, you just gotta build one! Creation... Fate is telling me to remake the world! That's... my hope! I've reached the next stage! The next chapter of Yasuhiro Hagakure's Life Story is about to begin!"

'If there's no road, you just gotta build one.' Hiro was made with racism, yes, and went underused in the source material, but that doesn't mean that was all there was to his character. If you dig into the work, you'll find a passionate man that cares deeply for his interest in the unknown, someone who researches and collects artifacts in his free time, and who genuinely believes in his clairvoyance, and used that passion and belief to build a career and life for himself. The pieces are in place for his story to continue, and if the source material won't do it, then well, can't we? Danganronpa is known for its love and attention to detail of its characters. Each and every character is designed with the potential to become the protagonist of their own story. That includes Hiro. He does have the potential to rise past the source material in the right hands, and those could be your hands. Who's to say? Maybe there's some unwritten genius hidden within that next chapter. That's the beauty of fanwork; untapped potential can become a fan favorite if you know where to look.

Afterword

"Hey guys, Sayakanalysis is taking a while, I want an easy one next." Well look how that turned out. This shit was NOT easy, not by a long shot. I've come to the conclusion that there is no easy character to analyze in this godforsaken series

That said, I am happy with how this turned out. Even if Hiro is a bit all over the place, I genuinely like him a lot more now! There's actually a lot of fun to be had with his character if you're willing to look deeper into him; that's what I want people to take away from this

Anyways, it'll probably be a nice long wait for the next one because uh. Junko is next. And V3 is basically the only time she doesn't show up soooooooo hope you enjoyed catch ya later

[tsumtsumrry]

my masterlist 🤍

tiny disclaimer: everything here is stuff that has been posted on this account, to find any of my old stuff that hasn't been posted here you'd have to go to my old account ch3rrybabyhon3y. i would post everything here but i'd feel so annoying flooding the tags lol. if there's anything specific you'd like to see/read again, send me an ask and i'll be more than happy to post it. kisses.

ordered from new to old 🤍

indicators: smut ☆ fluff ❁ angst ♪

one-shots:

Doctor's Orders: in which you have an interesting visit with your gynecologist when you come to him with an inconvenient problem.

or

“M’name is Dr. Harry Styles. You can call me Harry, Dr. Styles, or Doc. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m personally fine with it all. I know your name already and…” he blows out a breath with his eyes comically wide “…basically your entire medical history so I think it’s safe to say we’re well acquainted!” You take his hand and shake it softly, a small giggle leaving your lips. You don’t miss the way he glances down at the contact. His hand feels nice. And you know it’s weird to be thinking that about your doctor, especially when that same hand will probably be somewhere near your genitals in the next couple of minutes, but his hand feels really nice against yours. Calloused and sturdy, yet gentle and soft.

You appreciate how he immediately got in tune with how cracking jokes made you more comfortable. It feels like extra effort to you and a warm feeling blooms in your chest at how attentive he is. You can tell that he cares about his patients and takes pride in his job, and it makes you feel so much more comfortable. 

“Okay m’darling. Says you’re here for a regular check up. Are you sure there’s no concerns? Nothing we should be worryin’ about? S’more helpful if you tell me now so I know what to look for.” His hand goes out to motion you to lie down on the examination table. You oblige and he grins at you again, waiting for your response. 

Second Visit (part two)

Film Bro: in which sleepy best friend Harry gets a little too worked up while you guys cuddle. ☆☆❁

or

The poor baby’s worked himself up somehow and doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, doesn’t realize how needy he is. His face wears a tortured expression, his eyebrows arched and pushed tightly together. The desperate soft sounds continue to leave his slightly parted lips and all you can think about in this moment is how much you want to kiss his lips, soft and bitten. 

Honestly, you’re at a loss of what to do in this situation. Do you wake him? Do you let him keep going until he ruins his pants? Do you just will yourself to go back to sleep and pretend this never happened? You know that last one’s definitely not going to work considering how ridiculously turned on you are. With every thrust against your ass, an onslaught of butterflies assault your stomach and you feel the pool in your underwear only getting wetter. 

You don’t want to stop him. 

Favorite Holiday: in which you and Harry are friends with benefits ☆❁ ♪

or

"He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet. 

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips. 

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history."

Sex Therapist: in which Harry helps you out a bit, and he's not actually a sex therapist. (but he might as well be)☆❁

or

"“Maybe you need someone familiar.”

You can tell he almost regretted it when he said it, but there was also something of what seemed like determination in his eyes. You can only imagine the mental battle he’s having right now.

“Someone…familiar?” You say, your tone is nothing less than breathless.

“Mhm…someone you know, someone you trust, someone that can take care of you.” You know Harry’s noticed your change in breathing, the way you tried to subtly press your thighs together, you know he’s noticed and that’s why his voice has lowered to a calculated sultry tone that you know he only reserves for times like this. He’s downright seducing you and you don’t seem to have a problem with it, “any ideas?”

Good Boy: in which harry is a brat. ☆❁

or

"“So sit down, and listen to me like a good boy.” she says, watching as Harry rolls his eyes. She scoffs because she knows it’s all an act, but also because she knows he’ll regret this later, when he’s on his second denial and begging her to just ‘please, baby let me come’. She knows he’ll regret it.

“No? This is how we’re doing it tonight? Alright then.” She loves it when Harry is soft and submissive and just does whatever she wants off the bat, but she can’t deny the fun in making him submit. She knows he loves it too.

Harry, is on cloud nine, he loves this, he lives for it. Being forced to submit, making her hurt him. Gives him a high like no other, really gets him going. Sometimes he regrets being smart with her when he’s on third orgasm, or his third denied orgasm, but still, he loves it."

Morning After: in which you wake up next to harry after your first night together. ☆❁

or

"They had sex for the first time. 

In no way were they virgins, but it was just as special as anyone’s first time. She had been holding off on having sex with anyone since her last relationship, scared to give all she had to someone only for them to hurt her and walk away like her ex did. She never wanted to feel that pain again. 

She was dead-set on becoming a nun before Harry found her and swept her off her feet. He loved and cared for her, showing her he would never hurt her like her ex did. It took some time, but she finally learned to trust Harry. And as soon as her walls broke down, she loved and trusted him fully. She gave her all to him. 

Harry wasn’t expecting from her, he just wanted to love her. So when the opportunity came to love on her, there’s no way he could’ve passed that up."

Piper: in which sub-harry let's go. ☆❁

or

"Piper shakes her head at his pout and opens her mouth to speak, “I have an idea.“

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and his pout lessens a little bit, “wha’ is it?” He’s talking slower and thicker due to how overcome with lust he is and Piper fight the urge to shift her thighs at the sound of it.

“Well…” she pauses to give him a slow kiss, “you’ve been working so hard lately, been so good. Was thinking I could dedicate a night to just you. Hmm? Make you cum so hard you see stars?”

Harry’s mouth parts slightly at her words and he tries to prevent his eyes from rolling back into his head at the butterflies that just swarmed through every part of his body."

Alexa: in which you're an assistant for one direction ❁♪

or

"“Do you want a coffee or something? I feel weird just standing here without getting you something…” Alexa mumbles and Harry’s face falls. Her words served a (very) painful reminder that she just worked for him. She was forced to be around him. Doesn’t mean she liked him. After all she only came up to him because Niall told her he needed help with something. Harry feels pathetic.

“No…no thank you.” he murmurs and Alexa nods quickly and turns on her heel to walk away.

Harry doesn’t understand why he can’t just talk to her. Every other “employee” feels like a friend (or even family) to him. Why can’t he cross that line with the one person he wants to?"

She: in which we dream with harry ❁☆♪

or

"The drive of his life, where his passion is derived from. He wouldn’t be where he is without her.

Some people may say it’s foolish to be so codependent on a dream, but he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. As long as he keeps seeing her when he closes his eyes, he’s at peace.

He imagines the color of her skin, the smoothness of her body, the volume of her hair, the sound of her voice. Every day he imagines it all. Every day he dreams about it."

Laura: in which you've had enough. ♪♪

or

"She hates herself for feeling weak, for showing him any emotion. She’s stuck between wanting him to know that he’s hurting her and not wanting to give him the power to know that he has any affect on her at all.

“You keep acting like you didn’t know how it was going to b-” Harry starts, but Laura interjects with an angry incredulous tone, feeling like if this were a cartoon you would surely see the steam coming out from her ears.

“Are you kidding me? This isn’t how it was when it first started, even when you were doing the first album, hell, even when you were on fucking tour! This is an us thing, this isn’t just a ‘studio’ thing and you know it!”

blurbs/asks:

sub ceo harry ❁☆

friends to lovers h ❁❁

sex with h headcannons ☆❁

friends to lovers angst ♪❁

sub bestfriendrry finding your vibe ☆❁

request that's basically just porn (lol) ☆☆

subby co-worker harry ☆☆

enjoy to all your heart's content. love you loads and loads. kisses. 🤍

[shmaptainwrites]

Hi hi thoughts on Wilson dating a first responder who comes into the hospital time and time again after calls and such?

Also lemme claim this emoji 🧸

yayyy you picked an emojiiii hehehe and bestie this was so good i blurbed it 💀🫡 also it’s unedited cause i’m lazy

Pairings: James Wilson x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of gun shot wound, injury, surgery

Emergency

Wilson rarely found himself in the ER, but an easy way to get doctors moving around to places they weren’t used to going to was a nurse’s strike.

Today he was doing his “nurse-doctor rotation”, as they were calling it, in the ER. It was interesting working in the high pressure, fast paced environment when he was used to slowly forming connections with his patients and those who counted on him. Right now, he was probably just a blurry face to most.

“We’ve got another one coming in!” an occupied doctor called and Wilson rushed over, saying he would attend to it, gathering the information from the first responders to create a chart while they wheeled the patient in.

“47 year old male, GSW to the shoulder, went into V-fib on the way here, we shocked him and his rhythms are normal again.”

“Any preexisting conditions you found out about?”

“Penicillin allergy.”

Another doctor came to deal with the gunshot wound and Wilson kept scribbling down more information on the chart, but paused when the firefighter addressed him.

“You don’t look like an ER doctor.”

He looked own at his clothes, the dress pants and a button up with a tie and his white coat. They were right about that.

“I’m not usually,” he chuckled nervously. “You know the strike and everything.”

“Wilson, what are you doing!” Cameron came and took the clipboard from him. “I told you, you can’t be writing charts anymore, no one can read your chicken scratch, this is the ER, people’s lives depend on this.”

Wilson could feel his cheeks begin to heat up at Cameron’s assertions in front of the very pretty firefighter.

“Yo! Twinkle-Toes! We gotta go!”

You looked back at your crew and then back at Wilson, wishing him good luck with the rest of his shift before jogging back to the engine.

At least he wouldn’t find much of a chance to embarrass himself further and he thought it was a shame he’d probably never see you again.

—

A few weeks later…

“Did you get those patient files from Mercy? They were supposed to send them yesterday, but they’ve been delayed,” Wilson sighed, leaning against the reception desk.

“I don’t think they’ve come in yet, but I’ll double check, just give me a second.”

“You’re an angel, thank you,” Wilson flashed her a grateful smile which seemed to put her in a good mood which always sped things along.

“Hi, sorry, I’m looking for Winston Green. He was brought in a few days ago, firefighting accident. I’m his coworker, I just wanted to come visit.”

Wilson turned his head over to the voice speaking to the other receptionist and had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

The pretty firefighter, just like the last time, only now in civilian attire.

You turned your head and noticed the doctor staring, a smile making it to your lips when you recognized him.

“Dr. Wilson, fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you,” he chuckled.

“Everything back to normal now?” you asked and he nodded.

“Back over in oncology. That’s where I like it. And you can call me James.”

“James,” you tested out the name, liking how it made him smile when you said it.

“I-I don’t think I caught your name. I mean I could call you Twinkle-Toes but I feel like that’s a workplace nickname,” he joked.

“Right, Isaac is always calling me that in front of people,” you rolled your eyes before properly introducing yourself. “I’ve gotta admit I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

“Neither did I. I’m sorry it ended up happening because your friend is in the hospital,” he said sympathetically and you thanked him for his kind words just as both you and Wilson were given the information you needed from the desk. “I could walk you to your friend’s room if you’d like, it’s on the same floor as my office.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” you smiled and walked side by side with the oncologist, who eagerly asked you questions about your work and what it entailed.

You were both a little sad by the time you reached your colleague’s room so you decided to take the next step and see where it might take you.

“Hey, I don’t know if you’re free later or something, but I have the day off if you wanna grab dinner?” you suggested.

“Dinner sounds nice,” Wilson nodded.

You pulled out a pen from Wilson’s pocket protector and grabbed an old receipt from your purse, scribbling down your name number before handing it to him.

“I’ll call you,” he smiled, accepting the paper. “Maybe over dinner you can tell me how you got the name Twinkle-Toes.”

“Oh, I think that’s maybe more of a tenth date story,” you patted his arm and tucked the pen back into his pocket.

“You predicting there’s gonna be ten?” he asked.

“I think I’d like for there to be ten,” you smiled, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, James.”

Wilson turned away to head back to his office with his hands shoved into the pocket of his white coat and a faint pink tint to his cheeks

—

Wilson wished he could say getting woken up in the middle of the night by a cane rapping on his door was an uncommon occurrence, but since his last divorce it seemed more and more regular.

He tiredly walked over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open, seeing House standing on the other side.

“House, go away it’s 3 A.M.” Wilson groaned.

“Sorry, I can’t. Trying to avoid the team.”

“And you think hiding at your one friend’s apartment is going to do anything other than just make me suffer along with you?”

“Best case scenario, they leave us both alone, worst case, you get them to leave us alone.”

“No,” Wilson shook his head, “Best case is you leave and go home right now.”

“What is that shirt you’re wearing,” House deflected, noticing a difference in his friend’s sleep attire. “Is that a fire department shirt?”

Wilson looked down and nodded his head.

“Where’d you get it from?”

“Does it matter where I got it from-?”

“He got it from me.”

Wilson turned his head around and saw you standing by the hallway leading to the bedroom. You walked up to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before looking over at House.

“So it’s your shirt?” House looked like he was about to have a field day.

“No, I got it for him as a gift,” you chuckled. “Any chance you’d be inclined to carry on this conversation another time? I have an early shift tomorrow.”

“You’ll answer all my questions?” he asked.

“Honey, I wouldn’t-,”

“Done,” you nodded and put your hand out for him to shake. “I run into burning buildings for a living, I think I can deal with some invasive questioning. Plus, you’ve met my colleagues they’re a handful and a half.”

“I guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it,” House winked and you wished him a polite goodnight before Wilson shut the door and followed you back into the bedroom.

“Be careful on your shift, okay?” he said once you were all curled up in his arms again. “I need to see how this thing plays out with House.”

“Glad you’re so concerned for my safety,” you teased and he shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry I came out, but I thought you could maybe use a hand getting back into bed.”

“You’re probably right,” Wilson sighed while sinking further into the bed. “He’s easier to negotiate with when you have something he wants.”

“He seems like an interesting guy, I’m excited to finally get to know him,” you admitted with a yawn.

“Really?” Wilson seemed surprised. House was an acquired taste for most, he wasn’t sure he’d met anyone who actually genuinely wanted to get to know him more after meeting him, well aside from himself.

“Yeah, he’s your friend. We don’t have to get along as well as you guys do, but it’ll be nice to know a bit more about him.”

Wilson kissed you one more time before encouraging you to go back to bed so you could get a little more sleep before your shift, having a feeling, deep down, you were going to be around for the long run.

—

Wilson often passed the ER on his way out of the hospital to get to his car. Today was no different, he had swapped out his white coat for a jacket and a scarf and was planning on going to grab something for dinner and maybe head over to your fire hall to drop in for a quick visit before going home.

“Hey, hey, have you seen a Dr. Wilson around?”

Wilson turned his head at the sound of his name, noticing one of your colleagues speaking to a nurse.”

“He works in oncology, he’s not usually-,”

“I see him. Yo James!” Isaac waved and he quickly made his way over to see what was happening.

“Isaac, what’s going on?” he asked.

“Look, man, there was a fire,” he started. “Twinkle-Toes and I ran back in to grab this kid that was trapped, but the structure was deteriorating and before I knew it I was pushed to the ground and a beam had fallen on their leg.”

“A beam?” Wilson’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. This couldn’t be happening.

“We just came in, they’ve gone to surgery for it already. Everyone will be okay, but…just some recovery time I guess.”

Wilson could see how guilty Isaac felt so he felt the need to reassure him on your behalf. He knew it’s what you would have done, you were just doing your job and looking out for your friend.

“I-I’m gonna stay,” Wilson said. “I’ll keep you posted, okay?”

Isaac nodded and reluctantly went back outside to meet up with the rest of his team while Wilson went to talk to Cuddy about what OR you were in.

He felt a small sense of relief knowing Chase was presiding over your injuries, knowing you were in more than capable hands and while he couldn’t go into the OR, he would stand in the observation room until the procedure was completed.

“Chase, how’s it looking?” Wilson asked through the intercom.

“It’s a pretty bad set of fractures, but we’re going to set it with some pins and after some time and PT things should be all healed.”

“What about going back to work?” he asked, knowing how much your job meant to you, anxious to hear the answer.

“I can’t say for sure,” he admitted. “But if you keep a close eye and make sure all my post-op instructions are followed I’d say there’s a pretty good chance things will go back to normal.”

Wilson sighed in relief which made it much easier to wait until the surgery was done and meet you in a recovery room after calling Isaac to let him and your team know that you were okay.

When you awoke after the anesthesia has worn off, you smile a little at the sight of Wilson sleeping in a chair across from your bed, his jacket and scarf draped over the armrest. He looked so peaceful you didn’t really want to wake him up, but you knew he’d give you a hard time if you didn’t.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he grinned, rubbing his eyes awake. “How are you feeling?”

“Loopy,” you chuckled.

“That might be the morphine,” his hand came to hold your cheek, his thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone. “You had a pretty big fall. Or should I say a beam had a pretty big fall on you?”

“I’m alive, that’s all that matters,” you assured him. “And hopefully I can go back to work? Did the surgeon say anything about that?”

“Obviously not right away, but he feels pretty confident if you follow all the necessary PT and healing instructions you’ll be able to go back. Just can’t get away from running into danger, can you?”

“Why do you think I started dating you?” you teased and he laughed, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Of all the times you’ve come into the hospital I have to admit this is probably my least favourite,” he sighed. “Try and just bring us patients next time, don’t become one.”

“I’ll try my best, they don’t call me Twinkle-Toes for nothing,” you pinched his cheek. “I’m glad you were working that shift in the ER that day, though.”

“Me too,” Wilson reached over and gave your hand a squeeze, finding it funny how emergencies now made him smile.

[the-universal-sun]

More of the Grunkles in the Stan O' War? Whichever one you prefer to be little, idm.. (◕◡◕)

I went with a little Ford for this, we haven't seen him in a while! Sorry for taking so long to get to this anon, I hope you enjoy it if you're still here! Thank you for the ask!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

     "Avast ye, Matey! You'll never take the treasure of The Great Six-Fingered Scallywag!" Ford shouted, brandishing his wooden sword, its twin wielded by Stan. He wore an old captain's hat that kept tilting over to one side, making him all the more endearing in Stan's eyes. He and Ford were playing "Pirates" below deck to escape the rain outside. This game, a favorite of theirs when they were young, was brought back with Ford's regression, his headspace bringing back all the wonder and whimsy both twins pushed to the wayside as they grew older. Stan loves seeing how happy Ford is like this, how free he is. He never got to let go like this, not even as a child, societal and familial constraints forced him to grow up way too quickly. But here, on the open ocean where it's just the two of them and their boat, Ford can let go of shame and expectations, he can be Stan's little Buddy whenever he wants.

     "Oh I won't, will I? Well, that sounds like a challenge to me, The Deadliest Pirate in the Seven Seas, Eightball "The Slinger" Pines! Yaaaaa!" Stan shoots back, knocking his sword with Ford's, earning a giggle. Ford's eyes light up, filled with a playful mischief, and he knocks his back-harder-before backing up and pacing their cleared-out gallery with an exaggerated swagger, protecting his treasure from the Pirate in front of him. The treasure is, of course, Dr. Mittens who is dressed up in a fancy outfit Stan made for him, for an occasion such as this. He may have pricked his fingers more than once when sewing on choppy waves, but his twin never wants for much when regressed, so when he begged and pleaded for a "fancy outfit for Pirates" to be made for his plush, Stan had to oblige. And Ford's smile and answering hug were worth every bandage.

     They knock swords, each strike accompanied by an exaggerated "Hyah!", weaving around each other and giggling until they were breathless and slowing down. Stan's breathing was heavier than Ford's, his inner thoughts cursing his 30 years of greasy foods slowing him down. Ford's laughter, pure and free, brings a bright grin to his face, however, causing him to feel lighter than ever as he relishes this happy moment. Ford stops, eyeing Stan's panting form, and points his wooden sword at his chest, asking with all of the Pomp and Circumstance befitting a Little Pirate such as himself, "Do you agree to surrender and stop chasing after my treasure? If you do so, I may allow you to live and join my crew-" Ford smiles and holds back a giggle behind his hand-"swabbing the Poop Deck." He burst into a fit of giggles, the immaturity of his headspace getting to him. Stan takes his moment of distraction to move forward and gently tackle him into a mound of cushions, taking off Ford's Captain's hat and ruffling his hair.

     "Never Surrender! I shall reign supreme, Six Fingers!" They collapse into bouts of laughter, tears streaming down their faces from how hard they laugh. They slow down, eventually just sitting there, leaning against each other and catching their breath, breathing into the calm aftermath of their game. Stan knows the hard part is coming up, even if he can see Ford's eyes blinking slower and slower. It's nap time. Something Ford needs or else he'll be overtired grumpy and short-tempered the rest of the day, his energy depleting with his moods. Stan hopes that, since they played "Pirates", Ford will nap without protest.

     "Hey, Buddy?" Stan asks softly, Ford's head nestled into his shoulder.

     "Yes, Buddy?" came the soft response, Ford reaching over the bring Dr. Mittens to his chest.

     "You know what time it is-"

     "Nooooooooo!" Ford whined, a sign he was tired, and turned away from Stan, burying his head in a cushion.

     "C'mon, Bud, it's almost 1:30, we both know that's your nap time. Has been for months now. Let's get up and get some comfy clothes on, 'kay?" Stan asked gently, getting up with some cracks and grumbles about his knees and back.

     "But I'm not tired, I don't need'a nap!" Ford's pout was cute and all, but Stan knew better, he sees the slouch his brother has, and how slow his blinking's gotten. They do this same song and dance almost every other day-Stan's an expert at it by now.

     "Come on, Buddy, look at you. You're ready to sail away to Dreamland right now." Ford's still pouting-his cheeks read from Stan's childish words. Stan tries a different tactic. "Well, I know I wanna nap, and I can't sleep without my Sixer there to protect me from all those bad dreams." At this, Ford starts to look worried, biting his lip and staring at Dr. Mittens, as if he's having a silent conversation with the plush. Ford's protective of Stan, even when he's feeling small, and when he feels little, he believes that by sleeping next to Stan, he's fending off any nightmares that may come. It'd be really cute if it weren't true, but Stan knows his presence also chases away any of Ford's nightmares, so it's a win-win.

     It seems like Ford and his stuffy came to a decision, Ford dropping his head with a reluctant sigh, his defenses crumbling down at such infallible logic. "But we hafta sleep under my special blanket. Okay, Buddy?" Ford's referring to his weighted blanket decorated with constellations from both this dimension and ones he's seen from his interdimensional travels. Stan, of course, isn't going to deny him this, Ford loves that blanket and always asks to nap with it. Stan likes it too, if he's being honest, it's very cozy, especially sharing it with the living space heater named Ford.

     "Of course, Buddy. Now let's get you into some comfy clothes." Stan says, walking Ford into their room and heading to his "Little Drawer", the drawer in Ford's dresser where he keeps the majority of his "Little Clothes"-just things like pajamas, fuzzy socks, t-shirts, and sweat pants. Ford sets Dr. Mittens down on his bed-the one facing the door. Stan pulls out a soft, oversized t-shirt with Moby Dick patterned on it and a pair of soft, fleece lined sweats-the kind that felt like soft clouds against your skin. Ford squirmed a little as Stan helps steady him when he undresses, holding his arms up for Stan's help when he gets stuck putting on the shirt. "There we are, comfy and cozy, huh? 'S my turn to get cozy now, right?" And with a grin, Stan shucks off his pants and shirt, revealing his classic tanktop-boxers-combo, earning a disgusted look from Ford. He laughs, heading over to his drawers and pulling out a pair of lounge pants and a sweatshirt-letting Ford steady him and pull his shirt down over his belly. Little Ford likes feeling like he's helping, so Stan doesn't protest. He tweaks Ford's nose as a "thank you" and nudges him towards his nap tent.

     Ford giggles, warming Stan's heart, and he could all but see any remaining tension leaving his twin's shoulders. "You're welcome, Buddy." Stan helps Ford into the tent, laying him down on the pallet there, and grabs his glasses, putting them on the nightstand before grabbing both Ford's blanket and plush. He goes and climbs in the tent, depositing Dr. Mittens in Ford's arms and hauling the weighted blanket over both of them, tucking them in its warm embrace. He wraps Ford up in his arms. "Mmm, snuggly," Ford whispers, digging his body into the nest of blankets below him, the weighted one on top, and his brother's body on his side.

     “You’ll have the best dreams, Sixer. Just close those eyes,” he encouraged, brushing a few stray curls from Ford’s forehead. His brother, however, had already fallen asleep, his small snores reaching Stan's ears.

[housemdfever]

Cherry Chapstick Part 2

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In case you see this first, I'll link part 1 and part 3

Part 1

Part 3

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

The week finally gets to end; Friday is finally here. Normally I'd be more excited for the weekend but I'm stuck going on a date with my boss. Speaking of that, I walk into his office to confirm plans. "Dr. Chase, just so I have this correct. You're coming to pick me up at my place at 6:45pm and then we're heading to the gala?" He looks up from whatever he was doing at his desk. "Yea that's right," he responds as nonchalantly as he could muster; the truth is he's wanted to go on a date with me for as long I've worked here. I simply nod in response and clock out for the day so I can go home and get ready. Secretly I'm glad everyone else said no to him, I've been wanting to go on a date with him ever since I started working under him.

I adjust the straps on my red floor length slit gown. Never did I think I would have the opportunity to wear this. I didn't want to look like I was trying to impress him but I wanted to look pretty for him. Hearing the doorbell ring, I open the door. Chase is standing there. Black jacket and pants, red tie, and a gray shirt; upon seeing his outfit, I blushed. His tie matched my dress; funny coincidence. He handed me a bouquet of white and red roses. I look at him confused and accept them. "Why would he bring me roses?" I thought to myself. After I close and lock my door, he grabs my free hand and leads me to his car; he opens the car door and motions for me to sit. "Thank you," I respond trying to break the silence; it didn't work. Before he starts driving, he turns on music. His playlist was full of Lana Del Rey; I found it really cute. The ride was peaceful, I never knew I could enjoy just being in someone's presence so much. 

"We're here," he says while parking. Once more, he gets the car door for me. I gently place the roses that had been on my lap onto the seat of his car. He extends his hand for me to grab while I was trying to get out. We make our way into the gala. Lots of people were here and socializing; to avoid getting separated Chase grabs my hand. "Come on, let's go get refreshments." He drags me to the table. I grab myself a bottle of water; I don't trust open drinks at any parties. Chase and I stand around in awkward silence. He was the one who asked me here, I guess he just wanted a girl on his arm too make him look good. This event is really fancy so I'm glad he did ask me, even if I was just invited as a convenience. "Do you come to these events often?" I ask him, trying to break the silence."No, but I figured this one would be fun." He replies not even bothering to look at me. I frown at his unengagedness in this conversation. "What are we supposed to do here?" I try once more to break the silence. "Socialize, see the entertainment, eat food, and other stuff," he responds still not very engaged. I'm getting annoyed with his standoffishness; he's so pretty but such an ass. "Well then, I guess I'll go socialize," I tell him; he doesn't seem to care. While looking for a conversation a guy approachs me, "Hey pretty lady." "Oh um hi," I respond a little shaken by the compliment and his approach as a whole. "You look beautiful, don't tell me you came here alone." He smirks while leaning on the back of chair; he was failing at looking cool, he looked more like a desperate idiot. Before I get the chance to respond to the dude, a voice interrupts me. "No she didn't, she's here with me."

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I didn't realize there was a character limit