#fem!Japan

[putagal]

random nyos (+ bel) bc i wanted to draw girls <3

[mihii-i]

can you write a mizu x reader yandere fic? any type, however you want is fine, i absolutely love realistic yandere fics (referencing your what you will and won’t write)

mask of innocence.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, lazy writing, violence, yandere/obsessive themes, blood, mild gore, some angst why not, yandere reader, mizu AND reader fucking die, tragedy, lowk cliche, murder suicide, reader is very mentally ill and enjoys others’ suffering, and she’s kinda a two faced bitch ngl, I did NOT indulge in this one I fear, I’m gonna be so fr..I just wanted to kill taigen lmaooo, author hates taizu, did I mention the author hates taizu? I think I forgot to mention I hate taizu, NOT MEANT TO BE ROMANTICIZED, guys I don’t hate taigen himself that much pls, same time period but NOT at all related to the main storyline and it’s only briefly referenced, okay but I hate the reader so much in this, not proofread.

A/N: well good morning mizu nation welcome to yet another day of tweaking out over the wait for blue eye samurai season 2…now playing — sick and twisted by chris grey. Did I mention I love Chris grey so much he’s my favorite artist ever I’ve known this dude since the beginning of time. This lowkey scared ME while I was writing..PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION maybe im exaggerating but better safe than sorry🕯️

“Truly, it is a tragedy to have lost such a skilled swordsman. Much less in a brutal attack like this one.”

Lord Daichi Tokunobu’s voice called out to the crowd knelt before the revered daimyo, heads hung low as his voice rang throughout the vicinity in a low rumble. As per the usual rites, many other samurai had been dragged here by obligation of their own duties, having to stand for the death of one of their fellow samurai while feigning sorrow around the Buddhist monks circling them with spills of sutras flooding from their lips.

Or atleast, that’s what you had thought when you caught sight of Taigen’s funeral from afar, flames erupting from the pyre as small, burning flakes levitated away from the flames swallowing what was once the swordsman’s mangled body, reducing it to mere piles of ash that could slip through your fingertips like the sands of time. Surely, it wasn’t difficult to conclude that he had perished by an ambush rather than a duel. For the wounds on his body hadn’t required any sort of inspection to see the damage done to be far worse than a mere killing slash inflicted by a katana.

Lord Tokunobu narrowed his eyes across the array of his own army poking out beneath his periphery, furrowing his brows to gain a clear view of the funeral pyre continuing to crackle as the wind screeched out of fury in bellowing howls, swaying the flames off to the side. Nothing lay in the middle besides the heap of ash that was once Taigen’s body. To be reduced from a skilled warrior with his own thoughts, feelings, and abilities into a mere pile of grainy heaps that could be scattered about anywhere, and nobody would notice. It truly was a pity, especially at his youthful adulthood.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off the funeral distanced away from you as every syllable of the sutras chanted hung in the air in drawn out breaths. Pupils dilating, picking up on every little detail vibrating in your ears, ravaging your eyes with not remorse or regret—but rather elation. It was no surprise you’d assume the worst attitudes toward his death, or false sentiments delivered. He wasn’t likeable in your eyes anyway, and would always be a pathetic scrap of this world, left to rot.

Or rather, burn. For even laying eyes upon her.

For daring to impose the threat of killing her.

Grasping at the cotton of your kimono weakly, your thoughts swirled in an endless rage of conflicting emotions, grating against one another as you attempted to forcefully tear your eyes away; avoid those plaguing emotions that wished his death a thousand times over, and sought gratification in each stab wound you had marked on him. Whenever your eyes landed on the pyre where his corpse once was, you could only mull over the amusement incited within you, the scorching passion to do it once more whenever various individuals pondered upon who his killer could be—when you knew full well you were the one who had ripped him apart with nothing but a small kitchen knife.

Oh, how you delighted in the lack of suspicion surrounding you. Suppressing that wicked grin that quirked at the corners of your lip whenever Taigen’s lord passed by you without a care in the world, disregarding the peasant girl who strode right beside him. Someone so lowly couldn’t possibly take down a skilled samurai such as Taigen, could she? You looked nothing more than a vagrant even, so unappealing to the eye in bleak fabrics that many brushed past you, without even sparing a split second to consider your horrific nature.

And despite all that…your cold hatred thawed in response to the presence of a single woman, one of which you’d die for. The calculated slashes of her place descending down in sharp, swift motions with such precision, every drag of her blade depicting the smallest of details of her mastery in swordsmanship. The moment you had grown close to Mizu, it was clear that your emotions rose uncontrollably, never to rest again, rivaling that of a typhoon to rage inside of you.

Desiring such a woman in your life was a first for you. You couldn’t care any less of the consequences or boundary that it stepped outside of social conformity. Every fiber in your body, every drop of blood allured you towards the stoic oddity that resided so close, yet so far. Chills racking your form as they coursed through your spine, losing yourself in those blue eyes that encompassed your reason to live, her dark hair that fell past her shoulders whenever Mizu trusted you enough to lean against you for comfort in the cruelest of times casted upon you by the world.

It would be fine, she had you. Didn’t she?

“I wonder who could’ve brutalized him so awfully.”

Mizu’s voice disrupted your train of thought, initially swarmed in a fury of heaping hatred and sick fixation bleeding out within your skull. Your shoulder brushed closer to your lover’s navy cloak shrouding her body, huddling up to further sell the facade of your faux sorrow and fear as you managed to squeeze out a few stray tears rolling down your cheeks. While you wiped your swollen, flushed skin, dragging your palm over your lifted cheeks to smooth away those false salty tears, Mizu only glanced over at you, confused as to why you had been crying for Taigen of all people.

Though, you weren’t stupid. Not at all. You indeed had to slip on the mask of innocence to sell her the idea of a helpless peasant—to shove down the truth of a sick, cruel woman who delighted in the pain she caused onto anyone but Mizu herself. You hiccuped through the sobs scraping their way up your dried throat, involuntarily reclining yourself back onto Mizu’s shoulder while still standing.

“It’s just…I don’t want something like that to happen to you too. I mean, one skilled samurai got brutally killed somehow, what are the odds now that you’d have a target on your back?”

Mizu’s typically sharpened features could only soften slightly at your concerns choked out through streams of tears, exhaling quietly as she circled her arm around your shoulder as she begrudgingly held you close to her in an attempt to ease your qualms. Although…you weren’t necessarily wrong. The question of whether she was next to fall victim to this mysterious killer who not only took the life of, but practically tortured a man who had one well over 24 duels in his life without fail.

Yet, for the sake of your comfort, Mizu’s gaze shifted down to you quivering in her arms, breathing out in a hushed voice.

“(Name). Don’t worry, I can’t possibly be killed so easily. I can deal with whoever they are in a heartbeat.”

Well, she certainly wasn’t wrong. You couldn’t possibly go headfirst in a duel against her. That was just a death wish, that manifested in the form of a shooting star just speeding down to crush you. Your blood would be yet another decoration to the rocks, painting the grey a deep crimson of your vile blood that only screamed for one person. While your corpse would be just another carcass buried in the ground to decompose.

You simply managed a nod as a reply, earning a hum from Mizu as she continued to grasp you against her wordlessly, drawing in a deep breath to bask in the comfort of your presence hemmed between her arms tightly. The poor woman had no clue of what kind of monster you were, even more so than her for the misfortune of her heritage in such a society. Through, you had given her the gift of love once more, that should be compensation enough, right?

“Enough about Taigen. He wasn’t worth much of our time anyway…can we just walk together?”

Despite being caught off guard by your blunt remark demeaning Taigen somewhat, Mizu brushed off your odd disdain of sorts towards the deceased man, nodding in response with a smile.

“Of course we can.”

—

“(Name)..? What the hell are you doing?”

Taigen groggily glanced over his shoulder as he barely recognized your shadowy figure outlined in the shroud of nightfall masked by the trees rooted in the clearings near Kohama. Thumbing the splintered wooden handle of the knife, your foot set forward further into Taigen’s line of sight to illuminate your crumpled expression in the pale moonlight. Your supposedly menacing display only led him to feel more perplexed as to why you were approaching him without reason, and with such searing hate flickering in your eyes.

His hand instinctively flew down to rest on the handle of his blade, brows furrowing as he huffed out a gush of breath to push a stray strand of his jet black hair out of the way. You weren’t much of a threat, yet he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what intentions you harbored with standing like a war statue in the night before him. A mere peasant girl couldn’t possibly think to murder a samurai, it was out of the question to do something so stupid and unattainable.

Composure slipping everytime he squinted at your blurred face, filtering in and out of sight with your hands neatly folded behind your back, eyes fixed on the pathetic man before you. The same one that you wanted to rip open over and over, plunge your knife into him now and be done with it. However, you knew that was a foolish and fairly unwise move to lunge at a trained—and armed swordsman with nothing but a kitchen knife in your grasp. So, you allowed your rage to be shoved behind the need for patience, to which you successfully exerted.

A blink was all that was needed for Taigen to somehow lose you so quick, his head frantically whipping around the clearing to scan every blade of darkened grass to find you. But he didn’t worry much. After all, he was well off enough to defend himself, be it that you ambush him from whatever angle. Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he decided resolutely to ignore your bizarre actions. Getting rest would be the best course of-

…

There it was.

That sharp twinge of pain burning at the side of his throat as warm drops of glistening red spilled from his throat, trickling down the skin to stain his clothing to match. Your erratic breaths accompanied Taigen’s abrupt gurgle of shock as the knife cranked deeper into him violently, pupils dilating smaller and shaky at your crazed demeanor purposefully dragging out the sting of the stab longer and longer. Making sure he felt every little sensation that nipped at his nerves whenever you repeatedly sunk the knife in and out of that exact spot on his neck, occasionally missing slightly off from the initial wound.

Your fingers tightened their grip below his waterline, as if you were attempting to tear his eyes out from the headache induced by his screams whenever you continued this sick form of torture unto the man. Without even bothering to provide an explanation as to why you were doing this to him. You wouldn’t even grant Taigen the mercy of closure in his agonizing, slow descent to death, wanting to leave him as a wandering soul plagued by the uncertainty of his circumstance and forever suffering.

His throat wasn’t even enough, your assault continued to taint his torso as well, not sparing his arms either. Evidently so, you relished in the hellish, bloodcurdling scream ripped out of his throat, masked by the screeching cry of birds when you dragged the knife from his chest to his naval, tearing him open in a barbaric manner.

And there you stood. Above his ruined corpse as your face and throat were decorated by sprays of his blood splattered along you.

—

“I fucking asked you, why can’t you just stay with me?! Who knows what could happen to you? I need you Mizu, I don’t think I can live without you!”

“I am owed my revenge at any cost, you’ve known this before you chose to get involved with me. Hell, I’ve warned you—yet you deliberately ignored me and act like you support me in such an endeavor that costs my life.”

You grit your teeth together at her words alone, chest heaving up and down as your hands balled into fists at your sides. Burning in a scornful ache writhing within you at the possibility of her not returning at all, your chest only complied with the pit in your stomach with its own twists and turns of agony. Your breaths rapidly expelled out of your lungs in quick bursts exploding out in their own shallow intervals.

There was no way. You couldn’t risk the possibility at all. Even if she did return alive, what were the chances of that? And all you could’ve had to look forward to was nothingness for the remainder of your life. The light that you had chased for so long, craved the affections of and the one that soothed your vexations, gone for the rest of your days. That was simply a life you couldn’t even comprehend, nor even think to bear.

“I promise. If I’m alive. I will come find you.” Mizu whispered, hand resting on your shoulder.

If. That damned word again. The uncertainty that wormed its way into your head in paranoia like an unwanted parasite gnawing away at you. The risk of never seeing Mizu’s face again, never feeling her touch or another word out of her mouth for god knows how long isn’t worth it. You wanted to scream out your lungs to drag her back to you, plead her to stay and choke out your need for her—your infatuation with her traced with blood.

It was of no use. She grew smaller the further she walked away from you, back turned as streams of navy wavered along with the wind. Not even bothering to look behind her at your pained expression. What was the point of it all, if there was even a risk?

Nothing.

You couldn’t exactly fathom what had happened, or what snapped.

But your body seemed to turn against your mind for once, dropping that demeanor that you worked to keep, cracked and torn off as you lost yourself entirely. You clawed your way past the air as your hand reached out to Mizu, lunging forward at her with the remaining strength that resided within you. Your movements completely against what you intended them to be when you tackled your lover to the ground.

Even Mizu herself was surprised at your sudden outburst, falling over on her stomach as her glasses slanted off crookedly from her nose to the side, eyes wide in the heaps of grass enveloping her alongside your embrace. In that moment, you sickeningly needed her more than ever, every part of her had to stay with you no matter the cost. She had to stay with you and be a part of you. If anything, your intrusive thoughts before, of tearing out her heart as a sort of intimate gesture and holding the beating muscle in your hand as it pulsed with dribbles of blood down your palm to your knuckles.

Yet, you choose not to act on that. Your life has come to an end. And as selfish as it may be, you wouldn’t leave without Mizu by your side, your panting throwing your lover off guard as she attempted to pry you off her back the tighter you clung to her, fingers curling around the fabric to anchor yourself onto her. Choking out, you aimlessly reached for the same knife you had used to murder Taigen, tucked away in the sheathed lapels of your kimono as you rapidly dug the blade into her chest.

Over. And over. Blocking out her groans of pain so it didn’t hurt.

You could only stare down, expression dark as you rolled Mizu over onto her back, raking over her limp body with that repeated, deep crevice in her chest oozing blood. Her head remained slack, and her once clouded blue eyes now lifeless & void. Chest heaving up and down upon taking in your now dead lover, murdered by the very hands of the woman who had sworn to love them, you fought back those tears that stung at your eyes, breath hitching as you couldn’t bear this sight any longer at the realization of what you had truly done.

No. You don’t get to cry. This was all your fault.

All you can do, is make sure she’s safe. Wherever her soul is.

Sighing out a pained chuckle, your hand still grasping the knife knocked at your head, thudding against your skull in low smacks as you mouthed to yourself through tears.

“(Name) you fucking idiot..what’s the matter with you?”

Your mind wasn’t clear before, but it surely was now. Definite on the repentance to the ultimate sin against yourself. Your life was nothing but a waste by now, a burden that weighed on this already cruel world that didn’t need to harbor someone so fragile and broken already. Whom of which was now shattered, with the pieces scattered everywhere and burnt away, never to be found once more.

You knew what you had to do.

Which explained the immediate follow up of the same blade dragging along your throat, along with being plunged into your own chest not too long after for good measure. With that, you could only crawl onto Mizu’s unmoving corpse with your own reddened hands, streaking crimson along her clothes as you dragged your dead weight up her body. Ah, just laying against her chest as you bled out, arms wrapped around her—not before reaching up to draw your palm down both of her eyes. She deserved to rest.

It was as if you had only slept with her like you had on those countless nights that you two cuddled close to each other, safe in the presence and warmth of one another.

Deep down, you prayed this was a dream. You were both just asleep, and you’d wake up the next morning in her arms again.

But alas, that was a far fetched dream. And you knew the reality of what you had done closing in around you.

And you can never take it back.

A/N: I’m gonna be so honest I had to walk away and reconnect with nature when it came to this fic…because it made me uncomfy. I absolutely hate this fic so much I don’t like how I wrote it, I feel like I went too far with the reader..yet at the same time I wouldn’t change it. However this will remain one of my least favorite mizu fics I’ve written like ever..not cause it’s bad..just disturbing. Someone request me something silly with Mizu I’m gonna fucking explode.

mental health seeping down the drain again chat get me outta life if any of you bitch about the quality of this fic being bad or point out it’s rushed god help me I will actually break someone’s thumb anyway love yall

[leafington]

𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙖 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙘𝙪𝙩! 𝙘𝙪𝙩, 𝙘𝙪𝙩, 𝙘𝙪𝙩! - kento n.

content warning !! - blackfem!reader, nanami's charisma being sky high, culture shock (on nanami's end), fluff, not proofread, self-inserted barber experience (i get my lineups at home), ib an ugly fucking picture of the back of nanamis head and his barber clearly needs to be fired.

It's pushing thirty minutes that you've been gawking at the back of your husband's head. When he first got home and threw his stuff where they belonged, you knew something was wrong. You, as the supportive wife you are, came to his aid and stepped back seeing his grumpy expression.

"Be honest, how bad is it?"

Nanami did not want an honest answer because he's locked himself in the bathroom ever since because of the 'Who the fuck did your hair?' that escaped faster than your brain could register. You didn't mean it in a bad way, you were just upset due to some unlicensed prick who ruined your man's hair.

Uneven, cut horribly wrong, hairline crooked, he practically came home a different man and not in the good way. "Baby, it'll grow back." You console him, scrunching your face. He's never had a problem with his stylist until today, what made today different? Nanami shrugs off your hand originally positioned in his hair, his tone sour. "Not in three days time. How am I supposed to go to work like this?" You would call him dramatic but if you were in his shoes, you'd be mad too.

"Maybe you could wear a hat? Or like some sort of headband, scarf—" You list, replacing your touch to land on his back. "And is any of that appropriate for a professional workplace?" Shit, you're just making it worse, and the look on your face isn't helping.

Nanami's far more pissed now, you've been staring at it all day. He gets it, his cut is bad. He's beating himself up about it that he let it happen! He tries to forget about it, but suddenly there's a reflection of him everywhere in the house. To make matters significantly unfavorable, Gojo's laughter erupted from his phone later in the evening spouting all sorts of comparisons to his nasty do.

"YOU LOOK LIKE ANGELICA'S DOLL HAHAHAH." His loud exclamation gets cut off by the phone being inable to pick up how hard he's laughing. "STAR TREK CALLED, THEY NEED A NEW CAST MEMBERRR." It was almost sad to watch Nanami try to even muster up the ability to yell at him, Gojo isn't even calling him for his first purpose anymore.

His day has been everything stemming from the word rough. Nanami turned his back away from you like it was your fault (it was) in your shared bed. You tried googling solutions to his problem, nothing came up besides 'Quick tips on hair growth!' and '5 Easy Steps to Obtain Natural Hair Growth!', while drenching his hair in oil might do the trick, it wouldn't save him the embarrassment for his upcoming day at work.

Essentially, you forgot all about it when you opened up social media to mindlessly scroll for a bit. Coincidentally, a post from a close friend came up that showed off a client's hair he did. You liked it and scrolled once more before a thought crossed your mind.

"Ken?" You tap his shoulder lightly. "I think I can fix your..." You eyeball at his head in the dark, questioning if it can even be remotely related to hair. "problem." And you show him the short footage. Nanami skeptically looks between your phone and you, internally wondering if you're being genuine. "With all due respect, I understand you're trying to help, but I do not want that kind of style nor do I think it'll hold seeing as how different our hair textures are." A groan comes out shortly after rolling your eyes. "I'm not suggesting you get waves, Kento. I'm saying I could try to get you a booking there to at least attempt to save your head."

Seconds of silence pass, becoming a minute later, before Nanami heavily sighs and tosses his arm over his head. "And you trust him enough to where I won't end up bald?" He double-checks. "Yes. His wife does my hair for everything and I took my nephew there to get himself straight." Hesitantly, he throws a nod of confirmation, allowing you to message your friend to see if he could squeeze in an emergency booking for Nanami.

You weren't aware that you got a reply until the morning, luckily, your friend agreed to take him in whenever the two of you could come. After getting dressed and cleaning up a little, you shuffled through your purse to make sure you were prepared. Nanami, on the other hand, wore one of your silk pink bonnets on his head to hide the disaster beneath it.

It was a last resort, but whatever kept him satisfied.

The drive there wasn't long in your eyes, but for Nanami it was down right torture. He didn't know these people other than your friend who ran the barber shop, that and he's breaking the universal law of staying loyal to his standard barber—even if he'd never forgive him, he still felt bad. Having parked your car off to the side, your husband stood awkwardly when you tried to drag him inside despite his constant protesting, you had to promise him you'd take him out for bread later, bribing him like a little kid.

"Hey, Y/n! Long time no see." Your friend greets, permitting a side hug as additional welcome. He turns to Nanami wearing what he presumes is your bonnet, and fights off a chuckle. "And you must be her husband?" He goes for a dap, and to your shock, follows through, patting each other on the back. "I am, Y/n speaks quite much and highly of you." He raises an eyebrow at this and mutters something about you and your type for sticks in the mud. "Let's see the damage." The male prompts for Nanami to take the makeshift protectant off.

Collective 'Damn's' and hisses erupt in the small room, your friend even thinning his lips and coughing to hold back a cackle. A few barbers stopped what they were doing or snapped their attention back to their job, even some customers didn't even wanna look.

"Stop it. He's been pissy about it enough." You grimace, and your friend throws an arm around Nanami. "Don't worry, man. You're in good hands." He whisks Nanami off to his chair, grabbing an apron cape to put over him.

You, yourself, worry about Nanami's adaption to this new environment. The constant chatter of controversial topics, sports, things that bother them or don't understand. It's less impressive than sitting at his desk while a scheduled person comes in. From your spot across the room, he was surprisingly doing fine. They kept everything to a minimum seeing as you were present, but Nanami was actually getting along with everyone quite well! He bonded with your friend and his workers, discussions shifting like clockwork, weight lifted off your shoulders at this, feeling comfortable enough to finally acknowledge whatever kept blowing your phone up.

Nanami sat there for no longer than thirty minutes, paying his new friend a large wad and sending him off not only another firm dap but a decent style that didn't make him look dragged through the dirt. "You look good." You smile, running your fingers across his clean-cut gently. "I feel good." He lets you do as you please. "They were awfully talkative, not that it was a bad thing." He admits, slightly shaken from how much speaking he did. "I don't even think you talk that much to me." You tease, now gushing over his much better hairstyle.

©2024 leafington dont steal please!! :)

[khaotic-kris]

I just have this idea popped into my head and decided to make a post because why not? And also I have fallen back to the hell that is called Hetalia due my dear friend/hermana (You know who you are)

Imagine reader in hetalia as a country but she’s just like Gloria Pritchett from Modern Family. So for this scenario the reader be a Spanish speaking country and is the sister to Spain.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Country!Reader with the Axis Powers and showing them a tactical military vehicle that her people made so the Axis Powers can use. So she’s driving it with them in the car but it got a flat tie, and surprise! She doesn’t know how to change a tire, neither does Japan or Italy so Germany has to do it.

Germany as he kneels down trying to change the tire with a pissed off expression as he eyes Country!Reader.

“[Country Name] I can’t believe you don’t know how to change a tire! The Verdammt car was build in your country! Your country is known for armored vehicles! Surely you had flat before!”

Country!Reader standing to the side with Italy and Japan watching Germany do all the work.

“I had a lot of flats but I would reapply my makeup and I would wait and then in five minutes, I would have my own pit crew.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

America needs a handkerchief for some reason, so he visits Country!Reader who’s in the Untied States for some diplomatic reason, so she’s renting a house.

Country!Reader looking through her drawers until she finds something for America.

“¡Ay look, this might work!”

Gives America a turquoise fabric, smiling brightly. He takes it with some disappointment.

“Well except it’s turquoise,” Unfolds the fabric to see it’s actually her bra, America grew a bit irritated. “Oh and a bra!”

Country!Reader place a hand on her hip annoyed by America being ungrateful. “Do you think the kids in my country have pocket squares?”

America rolled his eyes and head as he tosses the bra, annoyance in his voice.

“Here we go with your country…” (¬▂¬)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Country!Reader is talking to Japan, who’s feeling alone and feels out of place within the Axis Powers. She’s trying to comfort him.

“I know the feeling, I grew up as an isolated country myself when I was younger, so isolated that I had to bring in strangers so that the children could learn who not to talk to.”

Japan freezes for a moment before looking at Country!Reader, with doubt all over his face.

“You know… I have to say sometimes your stories about your country sound a little made up…”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Country!Reader is out drinking with Prussia and Germany, enjoying how the two brothers getting along. Country!Reader with a small smile as she took a sip of her drink.

“Mi hermanó will have never taken me out for a drink.”

Germany placing his beer down. “Why, was Spain super strict?”

Country!Reader shakes her head. “No, he never seen me as an adult… well except when more powerful countries came to our house like Turkey, then he’ll run to the back of the house and be like, ‘[Country Name] you go talk to him and tell him I’m not here right now, but unbuttoned your shirt a little bit first,’.”

Germany and Prussia completely stunned in silence.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Country!Reader I don’t know switch sides and now is with the Allied Forces. She already been to a few meetings with them, so already seen the chaotic dynamic of the group especially when they fight. Country!Reader is already quite acquainted with America’s habit to play the hero and how he and England constantly argue.

She arrives early to a meeting before the others, and walks in to already see America and England fighting about something she had no clue about. The fight ends with America leaning his forehead against the whiteboard and England huffing in his seat. She quirked a brow seeing the depressed looking American.

“America what the hell are you doing.”

England sighs. “He wants to cancel the battle plans we made because he doesn’t like how it wouldn’t make him the hero.”

Country!Reader getting mad, tired of the American’s attitude. “The exact battle plans we made after rescheduling the meeting three times, changing the location twice so the whole Allied Forces can met up together?!”

America look to Country!Reader. “Please send my regrets, now can I have a little privacy…”

Country!Reader pissed off as she walks out of the meeting room as she yells. “¡Privacy, esto que faltaba a mí! ¡Privacy en este lugar!”

A moment later she comes back with a pistol. Completely fed up with the whole situation, this being the straw that broke the camel’s back for her. She is done with the fights of the Allied Forces.

“I’m so sick of stubbornness!”

She points to England, whose jumps a bit seeing the gun. Country!Reader remembering his moments of being immature.

“You act like a little boy that doesn’t want to accept he’s wrong!”

Then Country!Reader turns and looks at America.

“And you, like a sad old man that doesn’t want to be happy! That’s it!”

She then shoots a centimeter away from America’s head, shocking him and making England jaw smacked. The American blue in the face with fright.

“You could’ve shot me!!!”

Country!Reader huffs. “Come on America, I could’ve unbuttoned your shirt if I wanted to. Now sit down and be quiet.”

Looks at their shocked faces, waving the pistol. “I’m keeping this gun with me during the meeting.”

Country!Reader then sat down waiting for the other Allied Countries. America and England absolutely shocked but sitting down quietly as well, fearfully looking at her as they waited for the others.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

NSFW Alphabet with Drilla Moloney

WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+

NSFW Alphabet Masterlist Main Masterlist

Requested by: @purplegurl30

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Drilla is a man of few words. Often, he appreciates the aftercare more than the sex itself

Before you, sex to him was nothing more than a form of release. He never cared about satisifying others only himself.

You where diffrent, like no one had expected before

He worships your body, holding you close as he praises you. Telling you how much he loves you and meansto him

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Drilla spends hours in the gym every day to perfect his physique

He takes most pride in his arms

He loves the look of his muscular arms around your waist

He could never pick a favrouite part on you

He loves absolutley everything about you

He loves your curves and they way your body perfecticaly molds into his like a puzzle piece

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Drilla loves the sight of his seed pouring out of you

He loves to cum inside of you

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I have a feeling that Drilla has a secret mommy kink

I don't know why I feel that way, I just do

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Drilla knows exactly what he is doing

He know exactly how to please you, he always knows what you need without you even having to say anything

He swears he knows your body better than his own

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Missionary: Although it's basic he loves the sight of you being underneith him as he holds you close, pounding into you like his life depended on it

Cowgirl: He loves the sight of you riding him

Doggystyle

Reverse cowgirl

Valedictorian: From missionary position, the receiver raises their legs and extends them straight out (forming a “V” above their head, often resting on partners shoulders)

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Dispite being a player on the streets he's a very serious man in the sheets

However he is not afraid to crack a joke when needed

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Well trimmed

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

He's a big cheesy romantic

I can definitely see him setting up candles, roses and champagne

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

It's like he's a teenage boy

He Masterbates at least once a day

Multiple if he is stressed or missing you

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Mommy kink

Praise kink

breeding kink

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

In the shower

The beach

and of course in the comfort of his own home

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He gets turned on very easily

All you have to do is look at him a certain way and he's instanly hard

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that might harm you

He is often worried he might hurt you by mistake

He forgets how large he is in comparrison to you

He has a higher pain tollerance than you, he has huge muscles. He forgets how much stronger he is

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He LOVES to eat you out

It's one of his favrouite things to do

He loves the taste of you on his tounge and the sweet sounds you make as you come undone

He will never pass up the opportunity to recieve but he much prefers to give it

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Drilla is a mixture of both depending on his mood

He likes to take his time making you come undone while also ruining you

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

They are not his favrouite but sometimes he needs a quick good luck fuck before a big match

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is not afraid to take a risk or two👀

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Drilla could go all day if he wanted

His stamina is unmatched

He's often requires more than one round in order to be satsisfied

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He definitely has a few toys and he's not affraid to use them

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a big tease and he likes to be teased back

V = Volume (How loud they are)

He is definitely on the louder side 🫣

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Click the link to see one of my fav fics I wrote that just to happens to be about Drilla Read Here!

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

7 inches

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It is VERY high, like questionably high

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

He falls asleep fairly quickly

[mullermilkshake]

Satoru takes out the trash.

MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, graphic depictions of violence, murder, head smashing, references to Fem! reader

<- Back to arc masterlist

“Didn’t I tell you that I’d burn your world if you ever crossed me? I distinctly remember sayin’ that.”

Satoru had a fist full of the man’s hair who had long since gone quiet and limp. His face was beyond recognisable and it still wasn’t enough.

A tip of the man’s pinkie wasn’t enough. But Satoru let him cut it off anyway.

“Huh?! You gonna answer me, or do I need to keep smashing your face into this wall? It’s not like it’s goin’ anywhere and I have all night.”

"Uh, sir?"

"What?" Satoru pulled away, dropping the man onto the floor along with his scattered teeth.

"The first Chairman's on the phone, he's requiring your presence."

What did that old bastard want now? Satoru had just come from a meeting with that shithead and not to mention, he was already late getting back to see you.

Satoru pulled out a crisp fresh handkerchief and wiped his bloodied hands on it, discarding it over the man without a care. He hadn't moved or breathed for that matter so it was probable he was dead now.

"Can it wait? I have plans, I'm seeing him tomorrow anyway."

Ichiji didn't know what to say, looking both ways out of the pay phone entryway like like a little rabbit. "Uh..."

"Gimme the phone," Satoru wandered over and took it from him, leaning against the glass with about as much interest as the dead man on the floor. "You wanted me, Chairman?"

"I'm meeting with the lieutenants and unfortunately for me, you're one of them. Get your ass to headquarters, you have an hour."

Sukuna put down the phone before he could even respond with something snarky or an ideal comeback that would have made him curse over the phone.

"Shit..."

Satoru stepped out and adjusted the open collar of his shirt, smoothed down the sides of his hair as took out a cigarette from his suit jacket pocket.

"Clean this up, and take this," he tossed a set of keys from his pocket to which Ichiji barely caught, "Go to my girls apartment and take her some flowers, tell her I'll be late and that I'll make it up to her... somehow- don't repeat that last part."

"Yes sir- right away sir."

Satoru left the Ichiji to clean up his mess as per usual, he wandered the street with his hands lazily tucked into his pockets. The buildings were lit up with neon like they had caught fire, the sunset leaving the sky whilst the streets never slept.

It wouldn't take long to get back to headquarters, but Satoru would leave it up to a taxi on the other side of the district to get him there.

If Sukuna wanted him there in sixty minutes, he'd damn well make sure he'd get there in sixty one, just to piss him off.

<- Prev

-> Next

[mizusnose]

Hii!! I love ur writings AND UR ART TOO! I have a req 😈

Mizu meeting reader who has heterochromia!

And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning

Been missing Japan tons recently so this one’ll be set in modern day Tokyo. Here is a list of translated terms/phrases:

Gouchyui kudasai. Abunai desu kara.. : Please be careful, since it’s dangerous

Keigo: super politeful form of words/grammar.

Gaikokujin: foreigner.

daijoubu desu: It’s okay/I’m fine. In this situation, can also mean: I’m okay (without it)

arigatou gozaimasu: thank you (very much)

samu—!: cold/chilly. it’s actually 寒い (samui), but ppl shorten it in daily conversation by dropping the i.

arigatou: thanks, more familiar.

ohayo: good morning

Summary: A meet-cute in a train car leads to an unlikely friendship that blooms into something more. Discussion of beauty standards in Japan. Insecurities are discussed. Tons of flirting, some heavy petting.

SFW, some nudity but nothing blatantly sexual.

— — —

The first time you saw her, it had been on your morning commute to work. The autumn weather muted that far underground. The wind from departing and arriving trains was the only thing that would create a breeze in the otherwise stagnant air.

She was easy to notice.

Her height forced her to duck under the hanging advertisements with a practiced ease, neck long and slender. A white turtleneck against thin golden chains peeked out from her indigo jacket, spots of sunlight soaked into the snow.

And her eyes—a frozen-over ocean in the middle of the Marunouchu line, an early morning in winter. You breathed and suddenly it was the dead of winter in Sendai and the birds fluttered away up above you.

It’d only been a second, a millisecond, the flutter of a bird’s feather. Then she was gone. Her dark hair a shadowing eclipse against the sharp of her chin, the red of her nose—her eyes.

The train ride went uninterrupted. A jingle, shuffling, and then you were on your way to work. You didn’t quite notice though. Your breath a bleary thing in your ballooned-out chest. Belly wide and searching. An open mouth, fanged and hungry.

The next time you see her, it’s in the dead of night. The last train barely caught. Your mini skirt pressed against your bare thigh and the seat. Make-up dark and hair wild in the nearly empty train car. Winter’s fist had started to close around the Tokyo metropolitan area and the nights became a sharp kind of cold. You felt frozen in your seat.

She’d been sitting there, right across from you in the middle of the row of empty seats. Straight tapered office pants meeting her oxford shoes, that same indigo jacket, golden chains glinting in the glow of the moving lights outside. Her glasses caught in the passing stations, a muted orange that blocked the blue of her eyes.

You stared, entranced. You knew it was rude, but the image she made against the smeared nighttime Ginza scenery made you hold your breath, amazed. The last time you’d seen her, it was too quick. Barely a snapshot of a second. So you drank your fill, greedy and tipsy. The train shifted on the tracks and you both leaned into the bend, your bodies in line.

You distantly wonder if she’s willingly not paying attention to you after the doors automatically open and close following two stops. She hasn’t looked up once from her book, her fingertips a dull pink against the English title.

You want to put them in your mouth—a wild thought that conjures itself in your bleary mind.

When she finally does look up, her eyes greet your own and holds—a challenge. Her dark eyebrows furrow: anger. She observes you closer, focusing on your eyes.

You blush, and quickly look away.

You know she’s seen them: your eyes. People usually narrow their own eyes at you after realizing, and yet—hers shift when you meet them again. There’s no longer a scowl, her eyebrows rise instead, lips parted. A question, a surprise, Intrigue.

Oh, you think, oh.

Your chest buzzes and you wonder if your lipstick is still intact. If your eyeliner hasn’t been smudged. If you still look desirable.

There’s no one else but you two, so you quirk an eyebrow, satisfied to see her flush and look away. The cut of her jaw hidden by her short dark hair.

Her wired earbuds follow, they press against her chin and her hair, and you wonder what she’s listening to. If she can hear your breath quicken, heart rate spiked.

The train doors open at your stop and your stomach flips when she stands as well. Her head ducks underneath an advertisement about train manners, and she waits for you to stumble out first. You feel her hands around the air of your body, the pressure of the feeling against your waist. She doesn’t touch, but you wish she had.

“Gouchyui kudasai. Abunai desu kara..” She mutters down to the ground after you’ve both swiped out of the station. Keigo and all.

Her hair flutters in the tunnel wind, grey eye bags and pink cheekbones that make you wonder what her job is. You settle your miniskirt and nod quickly. The glow of the FamilyMart shines on you both, a play, an experiment.

Yet, as she turns to leave, you feel like it’s gone interrupted. Your story, and hers.

“I’ve! um—I’ve seen you around”

She stops, doesn’t turn around. You continue in clunky Japanese. The alcohol settling deeper in your belly, confidence rising in your throat,

“Are you free for lunch or dinner or..”

She freezes—and you feel like you’ve misread the entire situation, but as she turns back around, she nods. A jerky thing that heats up your face.

Her necklace glints in the nearby streetlights as she puts her Line info into your contacts. Her hand encompasses all of your phone, fingers long and palm wide. You ache at the sight.

“Mizu?” Your fingernails brush the character she’s entered after she hands it back to you: 水. Mizu, mizu mizu.

“Mn. My parent’s..Gaikokujin. Thought it sounded pretty.” She looks embarrassed, her short cut hair brushing her jaw, her ears. Yet, her eyes stay on yours. A lull.

“It is.” You swallow around your words. Greet her with your own gaze, a smile.

She doesn’t trust you to walk home in your stumbling state, so she guides you into the FamilyMart nearby.

She grabs a water bottle for you, a hot milk tea for herself. Like this, in the fluorescent light, she’s taller than the aisles and towers above you. Her nape meets her neck and the hair is shaved there. Short—like a boy’s. You want to touch the skin there, just below it.

She pays despite your assurance that you can pay for yourself.

“‘ts only 120 yen.” is what she says, turns to the cashier and waves away a bag, daijoubu desu, collects the receipt and turns to leave, arigatou gozaimasu. A barely there bow, the receipt crushed in her palm, and then you’re both outside in the softly falling snow.

She opens the bottled water for you and you hiss after you take it: samu—!

She chuckles, watches you take the lip of the bottle into your mouth: tracks your throat as you swallow. You feel like you’re burning up inside your chest and finish half the bottle in one go.

“Do you live far?”

“Just past the next streetlight. I’ll be okay, promise.”

She looks unsure. It’s not windy, but strands of her hair push against her face. She presses it away. Behind her ear that has a stud in the soft flesh of her lobe. You follow the movement in your tipsy state. Watch it glimmer in the night.

“Let’s meet again soon, then.” Her hand gestures to your bare legs, eyes averted and away—flushed, “Stay warm.”

She presses the hot milk tea into your hands. Swaps it out for your water bottle. It sloshes against the plastic when she meets your gaze. She’s inspecting you. Tracing the outline of your face, your eyes. Your fingertips welcome the warmth, and you open your mouth to thank her: arigatou

“Get home safe.” Her hands brush your own, and she grins at the touch, slow and soft.

A taxi’s unoccupied sign blinks on in the dark nearby. The rush of the trains sound behind you, a car drives by.

She leaves then, and you watch her go. Her shoulders sharp in the cold night. The snow falls on you but the unopened milk tea burns and you think of her again and again. Even after you turn and walk away too.

The walk back is slippery and when you get home, your phone sits content in your pocket. You smile, a big happy thing. Her name sits in your mouth, and you think: Mizu, mizu, mizu. As if your lips would forget in the morning.

—

You go out for dinner later in the week.

Mizu is shy. She jokes only after you’ve both ordered a round of sapporo, her flush an insistent thing. Her neck is long and you watch as it reddens through the night. The glow of the shop the only thing keeping your hands to yourself.

The conversation flows steadily. Like two lifelong friends. The banter is easy, and the flirting easier. You notice Mizu’s steady gaze on you and you smile to welcome it. A flower unfurling in the sun.

You both promise to do it again afterwards. Mizu’s hands linger on yours when you leave, and the touch sinks into you, a slow gulp of water against your throat.

It’s breathless and exciting, being with Mizu. She texts you ohayo’s and brushes your hair out of your face, stands close in the train, and slips her hand into yours when she walks you back home after your fifth date. The first night you spend together, her thumb slips against your cheekbones and she smiles,

“You are so beautiful.”

She kisses you and your body and your thighs. She fucks you the way she had promised over texts late at night. Kisses your eyelids afterwards, a love that blooms between you both.

“Did you ever get bullied about it?” She asks one morning.

You’re both naked, the sunshine glinting on the sheets and into the kitchen where you’re making coffee. The question is asked unsure, a train passes by in the distance.

“I did. Not too much, but yeah.”

“Me too.” Mizu shoves on her shirt, a button down that she leaves open, the space between her breasts littered in marks, “Kids can be mean.”

You nod, tilting your head to the side when Mizu comes up behind you and kisses your throat. The muscle in your shoulder. Your back: the bone there.

“You’re stunning.” She whispers. Moves her hands up your body, a warmth that stirs between your legs, “Fuck what anyone says—kids especially.”

You laugh, twisting around to face Mizu. Her eyes meet your own, a clash of colors and you let her gaze win. You tuck your face into her neck and blow a raspberry to the skin there.

“It’s not so bad now. Usually, people just think I forgot to put in my other contact.” Mizu huffs, lets her hands wander lower, “The plus side is that I got a hot girlfriend out of it.”

You pull back and peck Mizu’s unassuming lips. She stutters around the sudden labeling, and you smile to let her know it’s okay. It’s okay.

You spend the day together, a lazy Sunday. And when you see the scene you both make in the bathroom mirror after a shower you flush at it all: Mizu, naked, her eyes boring into you and tracing the lines of your body. And you, the color of your eyes, each a separate hue. Yet, the love inside them the same and as blatant as ever.

“You’re beautiful.” You say, grabbing Mizu and kissing her. Pushing her bangs away from her eyes, hand settling on her back. There’s a freckle there you’d kissed earlier. You press into it.

Mizu chuckles, finds your lips and pulls away to whisper into the opening of your mouth. A secret, a wish, a promise.

You keep every single one.

———

Haha, so I really just miss FamilyMart and affordable food and the stellar Japanese public transportation so here this is. Didn’t specify reader’s eye color so you can imagine whatever colors you want—including your own!

title inspired by about you by the 1975

[j0shuamar1lyn]

whatever tf is…

[mistressoftheelderitchwhorehouse]

Hair Thoughts

Chūya would never quite understand all the work you put into your hair. All the wash days, all the standing in the aisle to translate ingredients, and the attempts to learn how to trim your own hair when it became clear getting a cut in Japan for Afro-texture hair was a miracle.

In the end he decided that he loved you, and wanted to make you happy. Somehow that appreciation ended up being shown by a trip to Tokyo on a weekend you both didn't have work. It was shown by an appointment made in secret six months before. It was shown by finding on of the few black hair stylists in Japan.

When everything was said and done he knew you looked beautiful. He knew the hours of research and many a dead end was worth it. He knew that hair was important to you, and that was good enough for him.

[coralcatsea]

@femslashetalia - Free Day

Greece just legalised same-sex marriage, meaning it’s time for lesbian marriages on the island of Lesbos!

[giselleeeeaiiaee]

ִ ࣪ ˖ ࣪ ᨰꫀᥣᥴ᥆ꩇꫀ ! ᰔ ִ ׄ ── .✦

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 ! 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.. ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ♠️

[quanxitii]

|-Main Menu-| SATURO ✘ READER

┈➤Nextchapter─────────────୨ৎ───────

- .A Quiet Life. -

Chapter - 1

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────   

★ Story Summary :

╰┈➤ Marrying the strongest shaman in the world had been an unexpected choice—she, an ordinary girl with no powers, and he, a man who stood at the pinnacle of strength, far beyond anyone’s reach… beyond her reach. Just an old acquaintance from a small café he used to frequent, yet fate had led them to an unforeseen life together. But in a world ruled by power, could a simple life like this truly last?

‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿

★ Important notes:

JUJUTSUKAISEN ➶Akutame Gege

IN THE HAND OF THE STRONGEST ➶Quanxi

ART CREDIT ➶_3aem

๑ All Rights Reserved

I don't allow the story to be republished or translated I'm getting tired for this please understand the matter, and thank you

‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿

-Started : March,11th, 2025

-Ended :   Not Finished

‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿

-Soft rain pattered against the wide apartment windows, filling the silence of the evening with its gentle rhythm. Seated at the dining table, she wrapped her hands around a warm cup of tea, her eyes fixed on the clock. Twelve fifteen. He was late again. It wasn’t unusual—it had become a pattern in their lives ever since they married three years ago. 

-She rose from her chair and walked to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to glance at the quiet street below. Though she had grown accustomed to his absence, her heart still fluttered each time he was late. Was it worry? Or merely a habit ingrained over time? 

-Just as she decided to return to her room, the sound of a key turning in the lock reached her ears. She turned slowly, watching as Gojo Satoru stepped inside, shaking off his umbrella before setting it aside. His white hair was slightly disheveled, and his striking blue eyes carried a hint of exhaustion, despite the ever-present playful smile on his lips. 

"I'm home"

-he said casually, as if his long hours away were of no consequence. 

-She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she moved toward the kitchen, retrieving a plate she had kept warm for him.

"Did you eat dinner?"

-she asked softly, setting the dish before him. 

"Didn’t have time"

-he replied, pulling out a chair and reaching for a piece of tempura. 

-She watched him in silence, feeling the monotony that had become a defining trait of their marriage. Their relationship was not built on love, yet she couldn’t deny that Gojo, in his own way, was a good man. He never burdened her with anything, never caused trouble. Still, she found it difficult to truly understand him. 

"Why are you staring at me?"

-he asked suddenly, one brow raised in amusement. 

-Her cheeks warmed slightly, and she averted her gaze.

"It’s nothing. Just thinking about something." 

"Hmm… Are you considering filing for divorce, perhaps?"

-he teased, clearly enjoying the idea of provoking her. 

-She responded calmly,

"If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you." 

-He paused mid-bite, then chuckled lightly.

"Ouch, that stings a little. Didn’t expect you to answer like that." 

-She said nothing, merely busying herself with tidying up the dishes, unaware of the thoughtful gaze he cast in her direction. Their marriage had never been one of passion, yet she had always been there—even before their lives became intertwined this way. 

-After a brief silence, Gojo spoke again, his tone more serious this time.

"Have you ever thought about… starting a family?" 

-Her hands stilled, breath hitching slightly as she turned to face him.

"What?" 

-He smiled, but for once, he wasn’t joking.

"I mean, a child. The elders have always pressured me to have an heir, but I never saw it that way. I want a child because I want one, not because it’s expected of me." 

-She stared at him, wide-eyed, uncertain of how to respond. She had never expected this conversation—not now, not ever. Gojo wasn’t the type to reveal his true desires easily, but she could tell that, this time, he meant it. 

"I'm not asking for anything right now,"

-he added, his voice quieter.

"I just wanted you to know." 

-Silence lingered between them before she slowly nodded.

"Alright..." 

-She didn’t say more, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that this moment would mark a turning point in their lives—even if she didn’t know how just yet.

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-Author's Note:

I know this chapter is short, but I really love this writing style and feel that it adds a special touch to the narration. This is the beginning of a new series I’m working on, and I hope you enjoy it and find it as exciting and engaging as I do. Stay tuned for more! well, I've babbled on enough, wishing you all a wonderful day!

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────

-Hashtags:

#anime #saturo #gojo #saturogojo #gojosaturo #suguru #geto #romance #jjk #jujutsukaisen #gojoxreader #gojosaturoxreader #saturoxreader #animeromance #arrangemarriage #animeworld #annoyingparents #clans #love #marriage #fanfiction #getoxreader #jujutsukaisenxreader #sugurugeto #getoxreader #suguruxreader #fantasy #jujutsu #kaisen #femaleoc #japan #domestic #characterxreader #jjkanime #jjkmanga #lovers #reader #ff #oc jjk #gojousaturoxreader #angst #jjk #ff #socerer #manga #fluff #xreader

     ───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

To be continued...

[jurubay]

[havg02]

Pick a nyotalia character and get their childhood shows

Guess who found this little project that I was going to do until I got too lazy and just left it sitting in my saved files? Meeeeee lol. I thought it'd be fun if I made a game where ppl pick a character and get what childhood shows they'll get but.....Well tbh I won't be finishing it so there won't be part 2s. But at least I'll post what I've done so far! I hope you have fun doing this little game while scrolling past 😆

America

England

France

Korea

Spain

Japan

[slurpieshowdown-ss]

Hetatober 2024

Days 4 & 6: Nyotalia and Asian Country

I was really busy on the fourth, and I'm saving day 5's prompt for a prompt combo, but here's 4 and 6.

I forgot to post it here yesterday. But to anyone who doesn't believe this was done yesterday, I implore you to check r/hetalia (I posted it on time yesterday).

I originally wasn't gonna do a prompt combo for these, but I didn't like my original piece for Nyotalia too much. I'm still gonna post it, just not as my day 4 piece.

(full prompt list under the cut)

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Bad Girls Club

El Phantasmo X Fem Reader

El Phantasmo Masterlist Main Masterlist

Request by @madhatterbri (I took a twist on your original request. I hope you like it!)

Summary: El Phantasmo is the leader of the biggest club in Japan, Bullet Club. One night he stumbles across a Jazz singer named Y/n at his friend's nightclub in Osaka. El Phantasmo knows better than to think of Y/n in any other way than a Jazz singer. The two of them being together would just put her at risk. Especially with the current war going on with Bullet Club's archenemies The United Empire. But what happens when Y/n calls in the middle of the night saying someone broke into her apartment and needs El Phantasmo's help?

Warnings: Murder, Blood, weapons, gore, etc Word Count: 2.5 K

Being in the baddest club in all of Japan came with a lot of perks but there were a few disadvantages that no one was willing to talk about. The thought of settling down scared me. Having someone so close to you let alone a family puts you at risk. Other gangs could and would use anything against you. I was scared my future children would be used as ransom in an attempt to pay for my crimes. 

Currently the rest of Bullet Club was away partying in one of the biggest night clubs in all of Tokyo. For once I decided to spend Friday night alone and ended up in a Jazz Club in Osaka. The Jazz club was small, it held about 200 people but there were only about 20. A blond girl stood on the stage singing a song I knew would be stuck in my head for the rest of the weekend. “I’m in love with a dying man, I’m in love with a dying man. I’m in love lying in the sand.” The blond girl wore a short black knit dress with long sleeves. The dress ended just below her ass. She paired the dress with black velvet knee high boots. She swayed elegantly to the track. A song she called Kill Kill. “One…Two….Make it fun. Don’t…Trust…Anyone” The words she whispered in the mic spoke to me. Being the leader of the biggest gang in Japan I knew a thing or two about trusting people. I found myself getting lost in her performance. The way she swayed her hips, the way she looked into my eyes so seductively. I feared I was falling for her tricks. As I went to the bar to grab myself another dirty martini, I ran into a good friend of mine who just so happened to own the Jazz Club. “Hey, Phantasmo, how’s it going?” Tony asked, “I’m doing well Tony, how’s the business doing?” I asked him. “It’s a bit slow but going well, as you can see I have a new act. She’s the best I’ve ever had, sings like an angel” “What’s her name, she’s beautiful?” I asked Tony. “Her name is Y/n but I don’t want you getting any ideas. She’s too young for you” he told me. “How old is she?” “21, far too young for you” 

I spoke with Tony a little longer before returning to the private lounge I sat in prior. Tony’s word’s kept replaying in my mind. ‘Don’t get any ideas, she’s too young for you’. Prior to our conversation I wasn’t even thinking about Y/n in that way. I genuinely thought of her as a beautiful young singer. Tony was right, though I didn’t really mind the 15 year age gap going out with Y/n would just put her at risk. I spent the rest of the night enjoying the atmosphere of the club and Y/n’s performance. Before I knew it it was close to 4am and the club was closing. As I began to leave the club Tony came up to me. “Before you go, I want to introduce you to someone. Y/n, this is one of my very good friends El Phantasmo. If you ever need something or find yourself in a sticky situation I want you to give him a call” Tony said. “Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s very nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard alot about you” Y/n said as she reached out her hand to me. I took her hand and instead of shaking it I kissed her knuckles saying “It’s very nice to meet you too. Tony has told me a lot about you as well. You are very talented, did you write all of those songs yourself?” I asked “I’m glad to hear you liked them. I did write and produce them myself” Y/n said blushing. “Like Tony said, if you ever need anything just give me a call. Doesn’t matter the time, place or task I’ll always help out a friend. You better be careful out there Ms. Y/n, there are some real weirdo’s out there” As I said that last sentence to Y/n, I could see the look in her eyes change ever so slightly. Like there was this tension, that she was on edge. Tony had the same look in his eyes. Even with us being friends for over 20 years and him always having such a stone cold expression on his face I always knew when something was up. I mean there had to be or why else would Tony bring Y/n telling her to call me if she was ever in trouble. 

***

It had been about a week since I last went to the Jazz Club and saw Y/n. During that time a lot had happened. The United Empire, the second-largest gang in Japan and our arch-nemesis were on a killing spree. They went around the streets of Tokyo killing for fun. Their murders were not targeted. They were just killing everyday people just because they could. Y/n was always in the back of my mind. My subconscious told me she was at risk. At risk because she worked in one of the busiest Jazz Clubs in Osaka, at risk because we know each other and at risk because of just how dang beautiful she was. The United Empire was known for doing unspeakable things to young women. It makes me sick even thinking about it. Although I am the leader of the biggest Gang of Japan’s history, my number one rule always has and always will be NO women NO children. 

Originally I had planned to visit the Jazz bar this weekend but The United Empire’s tricks had all of my attention. One of our main camps had been compromised. Millions of dollars in cash, weapons and drugs had been stolen. A dozen of my men were killed including one of my best men. I knew war was on the horizon but when the head of one of my best men Gabe arrived at my doorstep I knew the war had just begun. 

Currently I lay in my bed thinking of Bullet Club's next actions. I didn’t want to just kill these men. I wanted them to pay for everything they have done over the years. My thoughts were broken when my phone began to ring. An unknown caller could mean one of two things. I just hoped the sharp pain in my gut was wrong. “Hello?” I said as I answered the phone. I heard nothing on the other line except for the sound of glass breaking. “What do you want, it’s nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. I’m not in the mood for any games” I said annoyed. “Mr. Phantasmo?” A voice whispered on the other line. “Who is this?” I asked “It’s Y/n, I need your help” I felt my heart sink. “Y/n?! Where are you, what’s going on?” I asked in a panic. I could hear her faint sobs on the other line. “I need you to take a deep breath Y/n so I can help you. What’s going on?” I asked, slightly more calm this time. “I think my ex boyfriend and his friends just broke into my apartment. They’re ripping apart the place trying to look for me” My mind was going at a rapid pace, I quickly grabbed my gun and hopped in my truck. “Where are you right now in the apartment?” I asked “I’m hiding in the closet in my office. There is a lock on the inside of the door. They can’t open it from the outside” “I’m coming right now to get you Y/n but I need you to stay on the phone with me okay. Where is your apartment?” “It’s a few blocks north of the Jazz Club. Pink palace apartment complex. It’s on Mabel street, apartment 34A” I could hear the voice of men in the background yelling and breaking everything in their path. “Come on out and play Bunny. You can’t hide forever” said one of the men. The voice sounded so familiar but I couldn't seem to put my finger on the thick British accent. The second I stepped into the apartment complex I knew what I was dealing with. ‘Shit’ I thought to myself. I quickly messaged the boys for back up and carefully sneaked into the apartment. I didn’t even want to think about which one of The United Empire boys was Y/n’s ex. It wasn't even important, what was important was that I found Y/n. 

The apartment was destroyed. Glasses and plates were shattered on the floor. Clothing and drawers were scattered all over the place. Then all of a sudden I felt my body hit the floor hard. “Oi Bruv, what do you think you’re doing here huh?” That voice I had heard earlier was none other than Will Ospreay. Will had tackled me to the floor, I tried to cover my face from his blows but some crept  in. “Where the fuck is Y/n?” I spat at him as I got out of his grip. “Why the fuck do you care Bruv, she’s my girlfriend not yours” he spat back. The two of us fought for what felt like forever, going back and forth with swings at each other. Just then the other members of Bullet Club arrived and had to pry me from Will. David Finlay and Jay White found Y/n while I made sure Will would never mess with her again. I left him in a bloody mess, along with the rest of his men. They were so black and blue not even their own mothers would recognize them. Somewhere missing teeth, I’m pretty sure one of them was dead. 

When I saw Y/n she looked terrified. She had a black eye and a busted lip. I held her tightly in my arms as she began to cry. “Don’t worry love, you're safe now. They can’t hurt you” The car ride home was silent. I thanked the boys for the help and took Y/n back to my house. I called up the maid to make sure one of the guest rooms was prepared with clean sheets and a fresh change of clothes to change into. Along with a hot bath so she could rinse off the blood and dirt that was on her skin. “This is where you live?” Y/n asked as we pulled into the house. A security guard met us at the end of the driveway and opened the large gates so I could drive up to the house. “Yes ma’am, I told her” “Your house is huge” she said. The moment we stepped into the home I introduced her to my maid Mrs. Kim. “Mrs. Kim is going to look after you. She’s already prepared a room, some clean clothes and a bath for you” Y/n looked at me like she was a deer in headlights. “Don’t worry, she’s not going to hurt you” I reassured Y/n. Mrs. Kim had been my maid years before Bullet Club became as big as it is. She was one of the few people in this world I actually trusted. I knew she would take good care of Y/n. “Okay Ms, if you follow me I will show you to your room” Mrs. Kim said with a warm smile on her face. 

Once Mrs. Kim showed Y/n her room and helped her into the tub she returned to me with a concerned look on her face. “Is everything alright, Mrs. Kim?” I asked. “I know I’m not supposed to ask these kinds of questions, sir. But what happened to that poor girl?” she asked with genuine concern. “She has some pretty bad and deep scars and wounds along with some questionable bruising I think you should see.” Truth be told, I didn’t know what happened to Y/n. I’m not sure if I wanted to know what happened to her. “The only thing I know is that she phoned saying her ex-boyfriend and his friends broke into her apartment. She’s a good girl Mrs. Kim, I have no idea how her supposed ex-boyfriend is Will Ospreay” I explained “Her ex-boyfriend is W- oh hi, Ms. Y/n, have you finished your bath” I looked over to see Y/n wrapped in a big white fluffy Gucci robe. “Why don’t I show you your room for the evening”  

Trying to fall asleep was a nightmare. I had so many questions that needed to be answered. How was Y/n involved with The United Empire? Why were they after her? How does her being a singer at Tony's Jazz Club tie into all of this? I thought about giving Tony a call but knew better than to get more people involved in the situation. By now, it was close to 5 o'clock in the morning. It was no use trying to get any rest. I needed to get up in a few hours anyway. An early start would do me well. It would give me some time to wrap my head around everything and plan my next course of action. But just then, I heard a faint knock on my bedroom door. I got up to find Y/n on the other side. “Would it be alright if I spent the night with you? I don’t really want to be alone right now,” Y/n asked. “Of course, darling” I told her, offering her a warm smile. “Thank you, for everything” Y/n said as she climbed into the bed, pulling the large duvet over her. “Anytime, darling. You know I would do anything for you.” The words came out of my mouth so fast I didn’t even have a chance to think about what I was saying before I said it. Before I could say anything I felt Y/n place a delicate kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight,” “Goodnight Y/n” 

Something about this felt so wrong. This shouldn't be happening not with this current war. As much as my mind denied it my heart told me I was falling in love with Y/n. I didn't know what the future would hold. For fucks sake I have Will Osprey's ex-girlfriend cuddled up next to me in bed. The words I mistakenly admitted were true. I really would do anything for her and I mean anything.