#i remember reading the manga so long ago

[piiinkfreak]

Hello Dungeon Meshi fandom how y'all doing?

Spent all day on this cause the file got corrupted yay

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[blueskittlesart]

Wait wait, what the Loz sibling manga?

oh god i want to say it was one of the early NES promo mangas. iirc it was by mishouzaki?? it was legitimately batshit insane. they obviously hadnt figured out like. ANY lore whatsoever at that point and im not entirely sure that mishouzaki ever actually. played the game. or even read the manual. so the triforce functioned as like. a typical 80s manga space-weapon almost and zelda wore like a mech suit at one point and link experienced actual in-universe racism multiple times and at the end of the manga it's revealed that link and zelda are half-siblings because zelda's mother CHEATED ON HER HUSBAND

[erwinsarmrest]

“mikasa doesn’t care about anyone but eren!!1!1!1!”

ok so what’s all this then

[denizenhardwick]

when i think "romantic friendship" i think of all the anime i watched when i was like 13/14 and just realizing i was maybe a lesbian that had all-girl casts and everything was just so extremely gay. pmmm, yuyuyu, school-live!, yuru yuri, etc.

[ehnrat]

i was also lookin up the full versions on the KHR songs and i saw that ponycanon uploaded one of my fav endings 3 weeks ago and HRMMMMMM

[moongothic]

I keep on seeing people who're thinking about getting into One Piece and either don't know where to start or feel overwhealed by the lenght of the series and like. IDK if this will even reach any of those people, but I just want tell you

If you want to get into One Piece, just read it. The anime (and the live-action adaptation) are supplementary material at best, and I don't mean this in an elitist "you're not a real fan" way. Let me explain

Reading One Piece is simply faster than watching it. While the amount of time it takes to read a chapter can vary a lot depending on the contents of the chapter (action packed vs lore heavy), generally speaking, when every chapter is about 19 pages long, it takes about 2-6 minutes per chapter, also depending on your personal reading speed. Meanwhile, watching the anime, every episode takes about 18 minutes (not including openings/endings/recaps) to watch. So in the time you can watch a single episode, you could have read 3-5 chapters easily. And when you have a series that is both 1000+ chapters and 1000+ episodes long, that does make a huge difference. Reading One Piece is a far smaller time commitment than watching it. If you feel overwhealmed by how long it is, I swear, it is nowhere near as long as you think it is in manga format

Toei cuts out content. The manga has these things called "cover stories" where the cover pages of each chapter tell small sidestories about various characters. Cutting these out wouldn't be a huge deal, if some of them weren't actually plot relevant. Like, some sidestories are absolutely insignificant and missing out on them isn't a deal breaker, but others can introduce important characters literally hundreds of chapters before they reappear within the plot, explain how certain characters end up in specific situations in the story, and even give out massive lore hints. So even if some of them aren't that important in the long run, you are still, objectively speaking, missing out on stories because Toei decided to not adapt most of them. (A few did get adapted, but most have never been)

Filler You have 1000+ episodes to watch, I'm sure you don't want to spend your time on any filler arcs. Now in theory you could just look up episode guides and figure out what you can skip, but there comes an issue where there's more than one occassion where Toei decided to take lore and/or plot relevant scenes from arcs and placed them inside filler arcs, meaning if you didn't want to miss out on something important (like why you can't just sail into the Grand Line), you'd have to at least watch a single random filler episode for like one scene. There is also this one notorious case where a canon storyarc had the most important plot relevant scenes removed in the anime, this arc ended up getting extended and turned into half-fillede, while those plot relevant scenes were then moved to the tail end of a completely different filler arc right after. The point being; this is not the worst, but it would be easier and faster for you if you chose to just read OP instead.

Pacing issues. And this is by far the worst one in my honest opinion. See, on average, two 19-page chapter have enough content for a single episode. This can vary depending on the contents of the chapter, sometimes you can cram more, sometimes less, but the approx. average is 2-to-1, right? For about the first half of One Piece, Toei used adapt chapters with that ratio in mind, doing filler arcs and episodes when they'd start to catch up to the manga so they'd keep a healthy buffer they could work with. But about halfway through, the changed their tactic, abandoning doing full-blown fillers almost entirely. Not quite, but filler arcs for the second half of the series have become much farther and fewer. And you'd think that'd be good, since there'd be less filler to deal with, but it's not See, to make sure they don't catch up to the manga, Toei decided they would start working with a 1-to-1 ratio. But a single chapter does not have enough content to fill out a full episode. So to have enough stuff happening each episode, they have to drag out almost every single scene to the absolute maximum, add the exact same flashbacks to almost every single scene, show the same non-flashback scene happen in multiple episodes (but it's animated different) back-to-back, etc, etc. And very rarely will you run into an episode you can skip entirely. Like, just to give an example, there was this very minor moment in the manga where some small time goon attacks the strawhats by firing some arrows that get deflected, leaving the goon shocked his attack didn't work. In the manga, this scene was like, 2-4 panels, a quick insignificant moment. But in the anime, goon keeps on firing more and more arrows, each barrage getting deflected one after another, with intense close-ups every few seconds, and it just keeps on going for a full minute or two. And at the end, he has the same "my attack didn't work?!" reaction. And this basically summarizes the issue with the pacing. It is a fucking meme at this point that One Piece's anime has horrible pacing, that every episode is 14 minutes of filler and flashbacks and the remaining four actual plot progression. It genuinely makes it a worse experience as a story, as every single moment gets dragged out for no god damn reason. And the worst part is that this only really applies to the second half of the series, as the first half was much better with its pacing and is genuinely good

Bonus note: You can read the entirety of One Piece, legally and for free, from the very begining, if you download the MangaPlus app. It's not the best way to read it, double page spreads get split which sucks and is a bit rough to read, but considdering you can read the entirety of One Piece for free without even pirating it, I think it's fine

Now I want to make it clear that I don't think you SHOULDN'T watch One Piece. I love this god damn series and I do think it's worth watching, if it wasn't I wouldn't have watched and rewatched that first half of the series like 20 fucking times since I was a kid. It is good and worth checking out.

I just want you to understand that the anime is supplementary material to the manga, not a replacement, and if you want to get into OP, the manga is the best, easiest, fastest and cheapest way to do so. Once you have read it, I think it's almost like a rite of passage to then be like "oh, I want to watch my favorite arc animated", waltz right into it and be like "this character's hair color is WHAT?!" or "this character sounds like THAT?!". Not to mention that going back to watch the anime after reading it can help you memorize the story, characters and events (useful down the road), and getting to experience a truly iconic series with its music, legendary voice actors and masterful animation is absolutely wonderful.

OP is worth watching (to an extent)

But please, just read it if you want to get into it

[kianamaiart]

"Pretty Pretty Please I Don't Want to be a Magical Girl" Bios!

NAME: Aika (she/her) AGE: 15 Main Protagonist CV: Anairis Quiñones

BIO:

Aika is an easily excitable and energetic girl. She's generally optimistic and very friendly. She's always eager to try new things as long as it's not her fulltime job of being a magical girl.

As soon as her magical girl duties are brought into the picture, her demeanor changes. She checks out, and often looks for the quickest solution to solve the issue. No flashy transformations and special moves here. She's good with a metal baseball bat or a rocket launcher.

All Aika wants is to live a normal life, make friends and go to school. Unfortunately, like every main protagonist, trouble manages to follow her wherever she goes.

___________________________________

NAME: Zira (she/they) AGE: 16 Love Interest Best Friend CV: Bennett Abara

BIO:

Zira is everything Aika wants to be. Painfully average, under the radar and a self proclaimed loser.

She's a smart girl but has a hard time applying herself. Instead of paying attention in school, and doing extracurriculars, Zira would much rather be reading her favorite magical girl manga "Moon Sailor".

After Aika forces her friendship upon them, Zira now has to tag along on all of Aika's escapades and experiences new things. Ew. However, they admire Aika deeply and admire her even more after Aika's magical secret comes to light.

___________________________________

NAME: Hoshi (any/they/them) AGE: unknown Magical Sidekick CV: Christine Marie Cabanos

BIO:

Hoshi is a magical star being sent to Earth to find the chosen one. They made a great choice with Aika, as she's amazing at her job. The only issue is she hates it and is often trying to dodge responsibilities (and Hoshi).

When Aika first started, and still had her heart in it, Hoshi was definitely more neurotic and acted as your typical mentor/magical sidekick. But over time, they gave up on trying to tell Aika what to do and also became a little more apathetic. Aika was getting the job done at least, so what's the problem?

Hoshi still has to make sure Aika doesn't completely give up on being the Star Guardian: Guardian of the Stars, which Aika finds annoying.

___________________________________

NAME: Eclipse (he/him) AGE: 15 Minor Antagonist CV: Aleks Le

BIO:Eclipse is a flamboyant and theatrical individual whose showmanship is out of this world. He refers to himself as

"Eclipse: Servant of Darkness".

He was a D-list antagonist that Aika and her team would fight on occasion. Mostly just saving citizens from him being a nuisance. Eclipse has deluded himself into thinking that he's Aika's rival, main antagonist and love interest. Their love is simply forbidden as he's chosen the path of darkness and her, the light.

After Aika ran away, he managed to find her again. However this time he actually has powers??? Where did those come from? It's as if he's made a deal with darkness itself.

___________________________________

NAME: Lady DeVoid (she/her) AGE: Old Main Antagonist/Big Bad CV: Shara Kirby

BIO: Lady DeVoid is darkness itself. She's a mysterious being with an incomprehensible amount of power. Power that is currently weakened and that she actually has no idea how to use. She can't seem to remember for some reason...

All she knows is that a long time ago she was defeated and banished by a Star Guardian and that she now wants revenge. The only power she has at her disposal is creating particles of darkness that she can use to possess animate or inanimate objects to create monsters. She prefers others do her dirty work.

She enlists the help of Eclipse to spread these particles with the hopes that it'll eventually destroy the Star Guardian.

___________________________________

NAME: Miss (she/her) AGE: 39 Side Character CV: Michele Knotz

BIO:

Miss is Aika and Zira's very tired teacher. Looking at her, you might assume she hates her job, but it's quite the opposite. She pours everything into her work and into her students, leaving very little time for her personal life.

She's recently started trying to get it together (after her ex-wife left her) but is still struggling to find that work-life balance.

Prior to Aika enrolling, Miss was Zira's only friend at school and, though she'd never admit it, Zira's probably the closest thing she has to a friend also (oof). She's subsequently become a secret Moon Sailor fan too.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HEAR ME OUT

“Don’t you think I’m scary?”

“Scary? My god you’re divine”

AHHHHH

FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋

I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻

PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx

fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !

before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.

he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.

he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.

and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'

anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.

usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.

but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.

katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.

but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.

you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."

"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.

he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."

"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.

"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.

pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.

he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.

"behave." you squeeze his hand.

"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.

"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.

you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"

"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.

"..how'd you-"

"your mom told me."

he grunts. of course, it was his mom.

that damn hag..

"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.

"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"

"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.

"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.

"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"

"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.

"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.

cool.

you think he looks cool.

"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.

"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.

"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.

"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.

"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.

"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)

he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.

finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.

"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.

"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask

"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.

"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.

until—

"OW, fuck !!"

your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!

until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.

the. asshole.

"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.

katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"

"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.

"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.

"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.

"i see you laughing."

today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

[spiraphobia-scans]

Project Announcement - Tonari no Jii-san

I recently stumbled upon a manga by Koike Nokuto and decided to translate it. Aside from being really drawn to the cover, I also realized that Koike Nokuto is a highly underrated horror manga writer, so I decided to pick it up. I remember reading 6000: Rokusen a long time ago and enjoyed it a lot - that’s also the only manga I had read by him so far and I’m still catching up with his other scanlated works.

Anyway, this manga, Tonari No Jii-san (My Old Man Neighbor), just came out this year, and currently, only one volume is available. I decided I want to challenge myself and translate an ongoing series that isn’t an anthology. So far, I’m really intrigued by where this story is going, so I'll be working on this alongside my anthologies.

I've uploaded the first chapter on Mangadex - let me know what you think so far!

[pretzlforpresident]

Finally I’ve gathered my thoughts enough to write a synopsis!

AKA explaining the context of Amnesia in Alloy, enjoy :>

Metal Sonic doesn’t quite remember why he wants to be the one true Sonic. He’s been destroyed and rebuilt so many times that those memories have escaped him years ago. For a long time it never really bothered him; it was part of his programming after all. But one day during a battle, Sonic asks for an explanation. Unable to answer, Metal short circuits. Waking up still in his cold metal body and alone at headquarters, Metal feels like something is wrong. Not with his programming, but something else. Someone else. Someone they used to be.

Tania Parlouzer went missing 7 years ago, and ever since Sonic has been searching for her. The only thing left behind from her disappearance were her favorite pair of earrings, and ever since Sonic has held onto them in hopes that one day he can return them to his little sister. As the years go by and he makes new friends(and enemies), being a hero became the main priority for him. He never did stop passively looking for her though, even as her face has largely faded from his own memory. 

Little does Sonic know that she’s been hiding in plain sight, still looking up to him just like she always has. 

Additional information:

Tania is not a sonic oc. She’s Sonic’s younger sister from the 1992 Sonic manga. I definitely recommend checking it out if you’re interested! Here’s a link to a post where I have a few sources listed where you can go read it!

Also a huge thanks to @catiecat1320 for writing a fic about this au. I’m incredibly obsessed with it(and I figured that if this is going to be my masterpost for the au collision I might as well have it linked if anyone wants to check it out)!

[sonamytrash]

Always Been Here

Warnings: some character spoilers if you havent read the manga, fluff, angst, smut, topics of grief and death, oral sex (F and M receiving), kitchen sex, vaginal sex, creampie, dirty talk, friends to lovers, aged up characters, mentions of Choso, reader x Yuta but reader has history with Choso. Gentle Dom!Yuta x reader.

What can I say? I want reader to have their cake and eat it. I love too many of the JJK men to pick just one, so here's a fic where you and Choso were together. Yuta's always pined for you, but has been a pillar of support as you cope with loss. Feelings develop into something more, lust overrides guilt.

"Can't sleep?" Yuta's voice startled you, his question cutting through the quiet of the night. You looked up from your teacup, the steam rising like a ghostly hand, reaching for the ceiling.

You nodded, your eyes still brimming with unshed tears. "Just thinking about... things," you murmured, not quite meeting his gaze. The kitchen was dimly lit, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the window, casting a pale glow on the countertops.

Yuta approached slowly, his footsteps silent on the wooden floor. He leaned against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered gently.

Guilt gnawed at you as you considered how your thoughts had been drifting towards Yuta more and more often lately. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the gentle touch of his hand on your shoulder when he offered comfort. It was wrong, wasn't it? To feel this way about someone else when Choso's memory was still so fresh? Even if some years had passed.

You took a deep breath, the scent of the chamomile tea filling your nostrils. "It's just... I miss him," you said finally, your voice cracking slightly. "Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday, and other times it feels like a lifetime ago."

Yuta nodded, "I know," he said softly. "But it's okay to feel that way. Choso was a big part of your life, and he'll always be with you." he said, his voice low and understanding despite the jealousy he felt deep down. He had been there the day you lost Choso, had seen the pain etched into your features that had never quite faded.

He remembered the way you looked at each other, the silent conversations that seemed to pass between you and Choso. The way your eyes would light up when he walked into the room, the way he made you laugh.

Yuta had always been there, in the background, watching the two of you. He had been so young then, not quite understanding the depth of the feelings he harbored. But as he grew older, and as the years painted their strokes of wisdom on his heart, he realized he had been in love with you for as long as he could remember.

He had hoped, in his quiet, unassuming way, that one day you would look at him the way you looked at Choso. That the warmth of your smile would be reserved for him alone, that your laughter would echo through the halls of his soul. He knew it was selfish.

Yuta had been just a teenager when he first saw you, your beauty and grace captivating him instantly. You were a couple of years older, your eyes sparkling with a mischief that spoke of worlds he hadn't yet explored. And then Choso came along, a man who stole your heart despite the short time you knew him, and the bond between you was unmistakable. Yuta could only watch your love for another from the sidelines.

He often wondered if you had ever noticed his furtive glances, his quiet admiration. The way his heart skipped a beat every time you were in the room, how he longed to be the one to make you smile, to hold you when you were sad. But you had eyes for Choso, and the love you shared was something he knew he could never replicate. And as much as it hurt him, he had learned to accept it.

Now, standing in the kitchen with you, he felt the weight of the years, of the unspoken love and loss. "You know," he began, his voice tentative, "Choso was a great man. He cared for you more than anything. And I think... I think he'd want you to be happy."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with the reflection of the moonlight. "I know," you whispered.

Yuta nodded, his heart aching for you. He knew that the pain of losing someone never truly goes away, it just becomes a part of you, a shadow that lingers in the corner of your heart. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I'm here for you," he said, the words simple but filled with a depth of emotion that resonated in the quiet room.

"You should goto bed." He says softly. For a moment, you just stood there, sipping your tea and letting the warmth of his touch seep into your skin. It was comforting, like a blanket on a cold winter's night. Then, with a sigh, you set the cup down on the counter and met his gaze, your eyes searching his, ignoring his suggestion. "Yuta, do you ever wish things could have been different?"

He paused, his hand still on your shoulder, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the coolness of the night. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice even softer than before.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. "I mean... us. Do you ever wish that you and I... that we could have been more than just friends?" The words hung in the air, delicate and fragile.

He took a step closer, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek. "I used to wish," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "that I could have been the one to make you happy from the start."

You felt a jolt of surprise, your heart fluttering like a trapped bird. "Yuta," you breathed, his name barely audible.

He stepped closer, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped the corner of your eye. "But recently I've wondered," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "if maybe, just maybe, the universe had a different plan for us."

You searched his eyes, the blue pools reflecting the turmoil of his soul. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—Yuta had been in love with you all along. It was in the way he had always been there, the way he had taken care of you, the way he had stepped up when Choso was gone. It was in the way he looked at you now, with a love so deep and profound that it took your breath away.

"What are you saying?" you managed to ask, your voice shaky.

Yuta took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm saying that maybe it's time for us to explore what could be," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Choso is gone, and no one can ever replace him. But I'm here, I've always been here."

You felt a swirl of emotions, torn between the loyalty to Choso's memory and the newfound hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find happiness again. Yuta's touch was comforting, familiar, yet thrillingly different. He had been your rock, your confidant, your pillar of strength when you had felt like crumbling to the ground. And now, as his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, you felt something else, something that made your heart race and your stomach flutter.

He leaned in, closing the space between you, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. The only thing that existed was the two of you, the warmth of his hand, and the closeness of his body. You could feel his breath on your face, see the earnestness in his eyes.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, your lips met his. It was soft, tentative at first, but as you felt the warmth of his mouth, the kiss grew deeper, more insistent.

Yuta's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if he could absorb your very essence. His kiss was a promise, a gentle reminder that he had been waiting for you, that he would always be there to catch you when you fell. You melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch in a way that was both new and strangely familiar.

The kiss grew more urgent as the seconds ticked by, the ache in your heart slowly morphing into a different kind of longing. You felt alive again, a spark igniting within you that had been buried under the weight of your grief. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer.

You tasted the sweetness of his lips, a flavour that was uniquely his, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His other hands found their way to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles that made you want to lean into him even more.

The intensity grew, the line between comfort and desire blurring with every passing moment. Your own hands roamed down to his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, the heat of his skin.

Your breath grew ragged, your body responding instinctively to his touch as you felt the wetness inbetween your legs.

With a gentle yet firm pressure, he pinned you to the counter, his body pressing against yours, leaving no room for doubt. His kiss grew more demanding, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth as if he were trying to claim you as his own. You gasped, your hands clutching at his shirt, holding him to you as if you were afraid he might vanish like a mirage in the desert heat.

The countertop dug into your back, but you barely noticed, lost in the sensation of his hands roaming your body, reawakening feelings that had lain dormant for so long. His grip tightened on your hip, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin just above your waistband, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. You arched into him, the warmth of his palm a brand against your skin.

Yuta groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through your chest and straight to your core. His hand slid up your top, cupping your breast, his thumb circling your nipple until it was a hard peak beneath his touch. You gasped, breaking the kiss to catch your breath, and he took the opportunity to whisper in your ear, his voice thick with need. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you have any idea how much I've wanted this?"

You leaned into him, your voice a sultry whisper. "Tell me," you demanded, your eyes dark with desire. "Tell me all the dirty little things you've thought about doing to me."

Yuta's eyes smouldered as he took a step closer, his hand sliding down to palm your ass, pulling you against him. "I've imagined peeling off your clothes," he murmured, as your top is swiftly discarded leaving your breasts exposed to the cool air, his breath hot against your neck, "and exploring every inch of your body with my mouth."

You moaned, his words sending a wave of heat through you. "Tell me more," you breathed, your hand sliding down to grip his hardened cock through his pants.

"I've thought about fucking you," he said bluntly, his voice low and needy. "Bending you over this very counter and filling you up until you scream my name."

Your cheeks flushed, the words sending a delicious thrill through your body. You'd never heard Yuta talk like this before, and it was a stark contrast to the gentle, almost shy young man you knew. "And what else?" you prompted, your voice a seductive purr.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "I've thought about you on your knees," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire, "your mouth around my cock."

You shivered, the thought of his hardness in your mouth making your pussy clench with anticipation. Your hand began to move rhythmically against him, feeling his cock throb in response.

Yuta's hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of your thigh before dipping under the fabric. You gasped as his fingers found you wet, slipping easily through your folds. His eyes locked onto yours, searching for permission. You nodded, your own hand moving to the button of his pants, your desire matching his.

He pulled back just enough to let you unbutton and unzip him, his cock springing free, thick and hard. You took it in your hand, feeling the heat of him. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as you began to stroke him, your hand moving in slow, measured motions.

Yuta's hand was still between your legs, his fingers dancing over your clit before sliding down to slip inside you. You gasped, your hips jerking forward to meet his touch. His fingers moved in a way that was both familiar and new, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel your arousal coating his hand, making his movements slick and easy.

You stroked him in return, marveling at the feel of his velvety skin, the way his cock throbbed in your hand.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, as his fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you moan. The sound filled the room, echoing off the walls, mixing with the sound of your ragged breaths.

Yuta's thumb found your clit, pressing down in firm, slow circles that had you bucking against his hand. The sensation was almost too much to bear, the pleasure building like a crescendo in your core. You tightened your grip on his cock, stroking him faster, feeling him swell in your hand.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, the tension coiling in your stomach like a spring ready to snap. Yuta's eyes searched yours, reading the signs, and with a growl, he lifted you onto the counter, spreading your legs wide. His hand never left your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a steadfast rhythm that had you teetering on the edge.

He kissed you again, stifling your moans, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hand, and you could feel your climax building, a wave ready to crash. "I'm going to make you cum," he murmured against your lips, and you could only nod, your eyes half-lidded with desire.

Yuta's hand worked faster, his thumb pressing harder, and with a strangled cry, you shattered, your body convulsing around his hand. He didn't stop, though, his touch gentle yet firm, riding out the waves of your pleasure until you were limp and panting in his arms.

You looked up at him, your eyes hazy with lust and vulnerability. He leaned in, kissing you softly, a gentle reminder that this was just the beginning. He slid his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, savouring the taste of you.

With a groan, Yuta stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and abs. The moonlight cast shadows across his body, highlighting the strength and power he had honed over the years. You couldn't help but stare, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your climax.

But as he reached for you again, you placed a hand on his chest, halting him. "No," you murmured, your voice still thick with need. "Let me."

You slid off the counter and dropped to your knees before him. Yuta's eyes widened in surprise and arousal as you took his cock in your hand again, stroking it with a newfound confidence.

You leaned in, your hair cascading around your face like a veil, and took him into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the head, tasting the saltiness of his precum. He groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the counter for support as you took him deeper, the muscles in your cheeks hollowing with the effort.

The room was filled with the sounds of your wet, hungry sucks and his muffled moans of pleasure. Yuta's eyes rolled back in his head, his body trembling with the sensation of your mouth around him. He had fantasized about this moment for so long, but the reality was so much more intense than anything he could have imagined.

Your hand stroked his shaft in time with your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip, teasing the slit before taking him deep again. His cock was hot and hard in your mouth, and you could feel his pulse through it.

Yuta's hands found their way into your hair, guiding you but not forcing. He was careful, respectful, even in his passion. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in harsh gasps. You knew he was close, and the thought of making him cum like this, of being the one to give him such pleasure, had your own arousal spiking again.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking in time with your mouth. You could feel him swell even more, his hips beginning to thrust slightly, matching the rhythm of your hand and mouth. You took him deeper, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and he let out a strangled groan.

Yuta's hands tightened in your hair, his eyes never leaving yours, watching the way your eyes watered slightly with the effort. His breath grew ragged, his abs tensing with every stroke of your tongue.

"You're going to make me cum." He groaned.

You hummed in response, the vibration of your voice sending a shiver down his spine. You felt empowered, in control of his pleasure, and it was intoxicating. You quickened your pace, your cheeks hollowing as you took him deeper, the muscles in your throat working to accommodate his size.

Yuta's hips jerked forward slightly, his control slipping as the pressure grew. "I'm going to... fuck," he stuttered, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to hold back. But you didn't relent, your mouth working him, eager to taste his load.

With a final, desperate groan, he let go, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he came, filling it with his warm, salty essence. You swallowed, the taste of him both foreign and intoxicating. He gripped the counter tightly, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

You pulled back, licking hom clean before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

Yuta's eyes meet yours with a look of pure amazement as he breathes your name, his voice shaky with aftershocks of pleasure.

You stood up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, your own heart racing from the intensity of the moment. "Let's go to bed," you murmured, your voice a sultry whisper.

But Yuta was beyond the point of patience. "No," he said, his voice thick with need. "I can't wait that long." Before you could react, he lifted you with surprising strength, setting you back on the countertop with a gentle thud. You gasped, your hands bracing against the cold marble.

With a hunger that was palpable in the air, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your legs. Your heart raced as the cool air kissed your wet pussy, making your clit throb with anticipation. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he discarded your shorts on the floor, leaving you bare and exposed.

Yuta's gaze was intense, his desire for you written in every line of his body. He spread your legs wider, his eyes dropping to the juncture of your thighs. You could see his chest heaving, his muscles tight with the effort of holding back. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

Without another word, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to trace the slit of your pussy. You gasped, your legs trembling, as he tasted you properly. His touch was gentle, exploratory, as if he was worshipping a deity he had longed for but never dared to approach. You felt your body respond, your clit swelling with need as he licked and kissed your folds.

Yuta's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he feasted on you, his tongue delving deep, stroking your inner walls, before returning to your clit to flick and tease it mercilessly. You could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, your breath coming in ragged gasps. It had been so long, the sensation was exquisite, his mouth on your most sensitive parts setting your nerves alight.

As his tongue danced against your clit, his fingers slid back inside you, filling you up, stretching you out. You moaned, the sound echoing through the kitchen, your body arching off the counter. He was relentless, his mouth working in tandem with his hand, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sensations grew more intense, each stroke of his tongue sending a bolt of pleasure through you. You could feel your orgasm building, a coil of heat in your lower belly, tightening with every flick of his tongue. "Yuta," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need. "Cum for me again, please" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Let me hear you."

You nodded, unable to form words as the pressure grew. His tongue swirled around your clit, his fingers curling inside you, and you felt your body tense, poised on the edge of something incredible. The orgasm crashed over you, your pussy clenching around his fingers, your juices coating his mouth. He drank you in, groaning with pleasure as he felt you shudder beneath his touch.

Yuta pulled back once your orgasm ebbed away, his chin glistening with your arousal, his eyes never leaving yours. You watched as he stood, his cock once again fully erect, a testament to his insatiable desire for you.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured, his voice low and guttural.

Your eyes widened as he spoke, the dirty words a stark contrast to his usually gentle demeanor. "Y-Yuta," you stuttered, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He stepped closer, his erection nudging against your thigh. "I want to be inside you," he said, his voice gruff with need. "I want to feel you around my cock."

Your cheeks flushed with desire, your body more than ready for what he offered. Yuta positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. He leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce kiss as he pushed inside you.

You gasped, the feeling of him filling you up, stretching you, was overwhelming. It had been so long since you felt this connection with someone, and the way he claimed you was both terrifying and exhilarating. His movements were slow and deliberate at first, giving you time to adjust to his size.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through your chest. His hands gripped your hips, his movements growing more urgent as he found his rhythm.

You could feel every inch of him, the way he filled you so completely, the way his cock slid in and out of you with a slickness that spoke of your shared desire. Your body responded, your pussy clenching around him, urging him on.

"Fuck me harder, don't hold back." you breathed into his ear, the words coming out as a desperate plea. Yuta almost whimpered as his grip tightened on your hips, his strokes becoming more forceful, more demanding. You met him thrust for thrust, your body moving in perfect sync with his, the rhythm of your fucking a symphony of need and want.

He growled, the sound animalistic and raw, as he drove into you, his hips slamming against your ass. "You're so tight," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "So wet for me."

You couldn't help the mewl that escaped your lips as he bottomed out, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

"Fuck, Yuta," you gasped, your voice breathless. "You feel so good."

"Yeah?" he groaned, his hips pistoning into you with a ferocity that made the countertop shake. "You like that? You take my cock so well, I always knew you would." He replies breathlessly.

You threw your head back, what a filthy young man, the pleasure of his thick cock filling you completely washing over you in waves. Your nails dug into his back, leaving little half-moons of pain that only served to heighten the sensations coursing through your body.

Yuta's breath was hot and heavy against your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, your nipples tight and aching for attention. You reached up, cupping them in your hands, pinching and rolling them until the sensation became too much. "Yutaa," you moaned again, your voice strained with pleasure.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. You arched off the counter, the dual sensation of his teeth and tongue on your sensitive flesh sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. His hand slipped down to your clit, his thumb rubbing it in circles as he continued to fuck you with a relentless rhythm.

The pressure grew again, your body tightening around him as you approached climax. You could feel his strokes becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "I'm going to cum," you panted, your voice barely recognizable.

Yuta's eyes met yours, a wild hunger in their depths. "Cum with me," he growled, his thumb pressing down on your clit with a firmness that made your toes curl.

The tension grew unbearable, the room spinning as your orgasm approached. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, your body desperate for release. And then it hit you, a wave of pleasure so intense it stole your breath. You screamed his name, your body shaking with the force of it, your pussy clenching down on him as you came hard.

Yuta watched you with hooded eyes, his own pleasure mirrored in the tightening of his jaw and the flex of his muscles. He felt your warmth spurt around his cock, your walls pulsing in a way that was almost painfully good.

With a final, powerful thrust, he gave in to his own climax, burying himself to the hilt and releasing his seed deep inside you. The warmth of his cum filled you, mixing with your own juices and making you feel complete in a way you hadn't in years.

He held you there, his cock still pulsing, his body shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tight as the world swam back into focus.

Yuta leaned in, kissing you softly, the taste of your passion still lingering on his lips. "Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, a content smile playing on your lips. "More than okay," you whispered, your eyes still glazed with the intensity of the moment.

He pulled out of you slowly, the feeling of his cock leaving your body making you whimper. He set you down gently, his arms still around you, keeping you steady. You could feel his cum dripping down your thighs, a physical reminder of the passion you had just shared.

Yuta took a step back, his chest heaving with exertion. He reached for his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. You watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions. It had been years since you had felt this alive, this desired.

"We should go to bed," you murmured. He raises an eyebrow, "We?" He asks with a playful smile. You roll your eyes.

"Yes, 'we' as in us."

[bakukatsuki]

— i will always find you.

pairing: katsuki bakugo x f!reader contains: no NSFW, no quirks, minor gore (blood n zombies obv), angst but a happy ending, kissing, aged up, & no manga spoilers.

★ ! zombie apocalyspe. a few months after graduating high school and now in college about to finish your second semester when all of a sudden the society you once lived in turned into an outbreak. you find yourself searching for supplies to survive until you meet someone after going solo.

author note: this is SUPER long but ive always had a spot for whenever I come across someone's work and it's based off of the zombie apocalypse so I decided to finally write my own. please enjoy reading! ‧₊˚✩彡

it wasn't supposed to be like this. you were supposed to be in your college class like any other regular day, going to grab a coffee with friends or studying for your next exam until the world has done a complete turnaround. you always thought it would only happen in movies, joking around with your friends if a zombie apocalypse were to happen until it became a reality.

the virus was quick to get people turning them into lifeless parasites. the zombie apocalypse had become a reality. you remembered the screams of your friends who tried to defend one another when the campus started to flood with zombies. standing in your place too scared to do anything as you watched all of your friends either crying for help or screaming at you to run.

and you ran. you didn't look back as you held back tears and prayed for your friends as you ran off campus to your parent's house. grabbing your keys from your pocket you unlocked the door before slamming the door shut. you shut your eyes as you heard screams going on outside. shaking your head, you called out for your parents as you ran around the house before running upstairs.

standing there as your keys fell from your fingers to the ground you read the letter they had left you in their room. they left without you and told you that they had gone north to go see your older brother who was in the military for safety. it didn't feel real. you knew you didn't have the best relationship with your parents as they always favored your older brother the moment you were born but you didn't know you were that unworthy to them that they had left you behind to see your brother.

but that was approximately 121 days ago which means it's been four months since the outbreak started and its been four months since you've been alone. you stayed at your house for a month before the area got too populated with these lifeless parasites. you had to leave. packing your bag with all the essentials you needed and left without looking back.

you didn't know where to go but north. although you didn't want to see your parents for abandoning you back at home the moment the world started crashing down. you wanted to see your brother. he was your best friend from day one and he was the only reason for you to keep fighting every day, traumatizing yourself with constant fear of having to fight for your life every day.

here you are now, packing a few items to bring with you as you set off for an expedition for supplies. you had found a place that seemed safe for now before finding another place to crash at.

heading your way to the pharmacy you had found while finding the place you slowly peeked inside, examining the store to make sure the place was clear before entering. holding one hand near your back pocket where you had your knife you looked through the aisles, grabbing a few things such as snacks and bandages before you heard a noise from the entrance you came from.

you held your breath as you looked over the shelf, seeing a tall, slim but built blonde enter the pharmacy. your hand grabbed onto your knife as you watched his every move before accidentally leaning onto the shelf and causing a noise. seeing as he looked in your direction you held your breath as you hid behind the shelf.

''come out with your hands in the air,'' he spoke. his voice was somewhat deep but raspy. ''what are you doing here.'' you asked, standing your ground behind the shelf as you heard slow footsteps coming closer your way. ''i'm not gonna hurt you, idiot. I'm here for supplies like you are but it seems like either there was nothing or your ass took everything.'' you inhaled deeply as his voice got closer.

''do not come closer. i-i have a weapon!'' you mentally cursed to yourself for stuttering as you tried to sound intimidating. you heard him chuckle before he came around the corner of the shelf and stared at you. you gasped, moving back as you held your knife out to him. ''i'm not scared to use this on you.'' he rolled his eyes as he looked at you from top to bottom. ''you wouldn-'' he stopped as you both turned your head to the entrance.

a herd of zombies was heading your way. ''shit, they might've heard us.'' the blonde cursed to himself before grabbing your hand and running to the back exit. ''what do you think you're doing?!'' though, you didn't retract your hand away from his. he continued holding onto your hand as he got the both of you away from there. ''just saved both of our asses, you idiot!''

the two of you ran near the place you had been staying. ''well, thanks but I didn't need your help.'' you said before looking at his hand still holding onto your hand. ''oh, sorry..'' he mumbled before letting go.

''bakugo.'' you gave him a look. ''what?'' he deeply sighed, ''my name is bakugo now are you gonna tell me yours?'' you stared at him for a second before telling him your name.

and that was the last time you saw bakugo. after running into each other you for some reason decided to trust him enough to bring him to your hideout that you've been crashing at. the two of you decided to stick together after that. a solid two months of just being the two of you. you had told him that you were going north to see if you could find your parents and brother who were most likely at the military base and surprisingly he was heading in the same direction too.

you've developed feelings for him. you never thought you would after everything that had happened to the world. not thinking it was possible to do or feel human things that you felt back then until now. the two of you had gotten close and soon opened up to each other about what happened or what you were doing before the virus crashed upon earth. you learned that he was attending a college not too far from yours and was studying for an exam in the college library on campus before a student started acting out and launching themself onto another student. he didn't tell you much about his friends or family and you didn't wanna push it.

its been a month without him. the two of you have moved to a different location as you both continued to travel up north until you two went on an expedition for food when a herd of zombies was heading your guy’s way, too many the both of you can handle. that was when he had yelled at you to go back to your guy's hideout as he distracted the herd to the opposite way, promising you that he'd find you. you refused to leave his side, crying for him not to and to just run with you. you couldn't lose another person.

he held your hand before bringing you into his arms. ''I promise I'll find you, I'll always find you,'' he reassured you before placing his lips onto yours. you melted into the moment the two of you had before he pushed you away, yelling at you him not to look back.

for the entirety of the one month without bakugo you had decided to give him a day before heading out to find him just to come back empty-handed. you had stopped crying yourself to sleep, reminding yourself that he wouldn't go down so easily until you had decided to listen to what he had told you and headed north but not before leaving a note behind if one day he showed up.

here you are traveling solo once again as you continue to count the days from the last time you saw bakugo. it wasn’t the same anymore. although you looked for food and supplies you had gotten thinner. it was starting to get colder as winter was heading its way. you were tired and starved. you felt as if you couldn’t make it anymore but the hope of being reunited with bakugo was the only hope you had to keep going.

your vision had started to blur. you were thirsty for water. from a distance, you can picture a place, no, a base perhaps? you couldn't think anymore before you landed on the ground unconscious.

-

you wake up confused. your eyes blinking to regain their vision before seeing that you're in a room. 'it's warm' you thought, sitting up before feeling your head pound. you must've hit your head pretty hard. you tried remembering how you got here but nothing seemed to come to mind. as you were about to remove the sheets off of you and wander off to find someone the door opened and you were met with those familiar crimson eyes you missed so much.

''baku-'' before you could even say his name you were engulfed in his arms. ''you're alive..'' you heard him mumble against your neck as his arms tightened around you as if he was scared to lose you again. he moved slightly to take a good look at you, looking to see if you were hurt and letting out a sigh of relieved to know that you were okay. ''where have you been..'' you asked, your voice cracking as your eyes slightly watered from seeing him again.

''i thought i was never *hiccup* going to see you again..'' he shook his head as he sat on the bed near you, not letting you go. ''i was going to come back but the herd drained everything out of me and i lost consciousness before i could get back to you before waking up in the same room. i tried to leave before realizing this was a safe place for you if i found you, for us'' your tears fell as you continued to listen to him, nodding and smiling when he wiped your tears with his thumb with a slight smile of reassurance. ''i guess you found me instead'' he said as he chuckled. he still couldn't believe that you were alive and here with him.

''but i promise you, y/n. i will always find you and that's a promise.'' you believed him of course. as the two of you sat in comfortable silence you looked around the room again. ''where are we?'' you asked before he replied, ''we're in a safe place, a really safe place. we're at the military base that we both wanted to find. your brother is here and so are your parents.'' you gasped, ''my family is here?'' he nodded. ''rest up, i promise you'll see them.'' you laid back comfortably in bed as you still held his hands, enjoying the feeling of being back with bakugo.

[sharuruwrites]

Another

I'm in love with the idea Of dying with you in my arms But not like this - The Bird song by Noah Floersch

Tags: Osamu Dazai x Fem!Reader, Angst, inspiration from BEAST manga, unedited, Reader works as a florist, lots of deaths, Dazai being a Yandere in one of his past lives?, Unalive oneself, fluff

A/n: haven't read the manga, but hearing these specific lines from that song two days ago while driving to home, made me write this. I do recommend to look up hanakotoba or Japanese Flower Language after reading this one shot.

------------------------------------

The ability to experience and remembered all past lives sounded a good idea in theory. However, one must expect that not everything would be the same as one hoped it'll be.

Unfortunately, Osamu Dazai was blessed? or perhaps cursed? He really didn't know at this point as he lost count in how many lives he started and ended. Dazai was too busy studying the lady's beautiful features behind the glass window of a flower shop.

Someone was so lovely and brimming with life, but so far within his reach. The carefree smile on your face never changed either.

Yes, this wasn't his first encounter of you. In fact, in every life he experienced, a very special constant existed. He unexpectedly believed he would get his desired ending.

You.

Despite your profession being the same through the many lifetimes, you always have a different favourite flower and a different ending.

In the first book, the scent of red roses was constant to him as you always greeted him with it. It was a fall at first sight. Stolen kisses, intimate conversations, and silence filled with affection. Love and Passion -- those two words described what his first relationship was like with you. Just the existence of you was enough to fill the void he found in his tiring world.

Yet, his enemies found out his 'weakness', and the last thing he remembered from that life was rage and anger directed at everything after your corpse was delivered to him.

In the next book, your first meeting, Dazai brushed his fingers against yours as you were reaching for the soft hydrangeas. Memories from the previous book haunted him, and swore to himself that he would do everything to keep you safe. The moment you fell for him he ensnared you, and locked you up in his apartment like a caged bird.

Dazai took advantage of your kind heart by threatening to take his life if you dared to go outside. His fear of losing you and his stubborn pride drove you to insanity. Instead of an obedient and dependent beloved welcoming him home, he found you dead with an empty bottle of sleeping pills.

In one of the books and after many more tragedies, Dazai vowed to not fall for you, but fate was a such a cruel mistress to suffering. Everywhere he went, you were there, wearing a metallic spider-like flower brooch.

Since when fucking Yokahama city became a small town for him to see you so easily?

Dazai avoided you like a plaque, but it's unavoidable as you were somehow acquainted with the agency's mad doctor, Yosano. During your visits in the agency, longing still filled him as he caught glimpses of you. Dazai yearned to be the one who makes you smile effortlessly.

After he gathered the courage to approach you, he witnessed a car crash as your body flung across the busy street of the city. His mind screamed at him to get close to you, but he stood still as his eyes locked onto the bloodied flower brooch on your dress.

That's where realization hit Dazai. Whether it be from the start or from the end, you and him were doomed. He's enamoured to a dream -- to die alongside of a beautiful lady. But, if it meant a countless partings with you attached to your tragic end, why would he wished for it?

Although all hope may seemed lost, Dazai dreamt of a very peaceful scenery last night that ignited his hope of a happy ending with you.

"I know we just got married," Dazai cupped your face, and his thumb caressed your cheek. "But, will you marry me in our next life?"

You leaned further to his touch with your eyes getting misty. "Well, as long as you hear me say yes."

With a deep breath, Dazai walked into your flower shop. The bell rang, and the flowers' scent filled his senses. He took a moment to enjoy the sight before him—the roses, carnations, and lilies, all so pretty. He felt himself smile at the sight, as if he hadn't seen them in years. He had never thought much of flowers, but after he met you, he found himself falling in love with them.

"Welcome!" you called from behind the counter, greeting him. "How may I help you?"

"Instead of help," Dazai plucked a cluster of small blue flowers from a nearby vase. "Can't I just give a beautiful lady like you a flower?"

"Oh," You meekly accepted the flower. "How did you know that forget-me-nots are my favourite?"

Dazai chuckled. "A lucky guess?"

[yumeka-sxf]

I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.

I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!

We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.

Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.

People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.

To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.

And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~

[evilkitten3]

i don't think television is real

"Your top 15 favorite TV shows can say a lot about your personality"

Ty lovely mutuals @kuhakukage @mochiajclayne @tentensgiantfan for tagging me I really enjoyed making this list... memory lane... it was so hard tho, but:

Breaking Bad

Naruto (minus war arc and ending)

Avatar The Last Airbender

Master of None

The Umbrella Academy

Castlevania

Silicon Valley

Freaks and Geeks

Mr. Robot

Westworld

How I Met Your Mother

Food Wars

Haikyuu

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Kim Possible

Mutuals I haven't seen tagged yet, I tag: @sasubaeuchithot @the-real-sasuke-uchiha @narutobrainrotstuff @moon-trees @azenta

Bonus - honorable mentions bc I love sm shows and am indecisive:

One Tree Hill

Masterchef (Australia)

Tokyo Ghoul

Teen Titans

America's Next Top Model

Black Mirror

The Boys

Game of Thrones (s1-5)

Lost (s1-3)

Winx Club (s1-5)

Totally Spies

Billions (s1-4)

The Vampire Diaries

CW The Flash (s1-4)

Arcane