#it’s 1000% more canon now

[syn4k]

new crackpot theory: empires is gonna end right as doc finishes whatever the fuck this is gonna be, the emperors cross back over, all of them get killed by gem and die permanently, and then hermitcraft season 9 continues like nothing ever happened until decked out 2 inevitably becomes sentient and starts killing people for fun by its own hand. Then Scott Smajor and Sausage walk onto a big stage shirtless with Snoop Dogg also there, both holding the gay flag, and kiss

[enhanced-operatives-division]

This blog is gonna end up posting purely Prism stuff at this rate ..good lord

[obwjam]

34 with Zoro would actually be 🤌

"Sorry you had to see that."

you guys are so talented at picking the exact perfect prompts for these characters i'm crying

(i've only ever watched OPLA so the characterizations/details are solely based off that pls no hate 🫣)

from this post

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

There wasn’t a whole lot to do below the deck of the Going Merry.

It was fun when everyone was here – there was lots of laughter, plenty of jokes and sometimes even sea shanties. But whenever the Straw Hat Pirates visited a village, Nami insisted that you stay behind because it was way too dangerous. Not many people had seen tinies or respected them much, she would always remind you.

But Luffy was as persuasive as he was persistent. You were a part of the crew, after all, and he wanted you to see the world! He hated the idea of you being cooped up on the ship while the rest of them got to have all the fun.

So, finally, he convinced Nami to let you tag along for this one. They only needed to restock the pantry, and Sanji insisted that they stop in this very specific village to get the best ingredients. 

“Alright, Kona, choose your ride!” Luffy said, beaming down at you. He always silently hoped that you would pick him. He loved having you perched on his shoulder.

“Hmm…” you tapped your finger on your chin. It used to be overwhelming to have five giants stare down at you, but now, it made you feel safe. “I choose… Zoro.”

Everyone exchanged glances, ranging from confused to amused, and Usopp, who had been crossing his fingers in hopes of being picked, let out a loud groan. Zoro briefly shut his eyes and prayed that nobody noticed his cheeks turn pink.

“Zoro? Why him?” Usopp whined, not trying very hard to mask the hurt in his voice.

You shrugged. The real reason was that you thought Zoro was the coolest person in the world, and you wished you could spend more time with him. You were always hanging around Usopp or sitting on the brim of Luffy’s hat, and you rarely got to be around the crew's swordsman. But you could never admit that; it was far too embarrassing. 

So all you said was, “I dunno, because I feel like it!”

Usopp crossed his arms in a huff. “Fine. But I call dibs for next time!”

“You can’t call dibs. It’s Kona’s decision,” Sanji objected, sparking a small argument that the two of them carried back up to the deck. Nami and Luffy smiled at each other as they followed, leaving you alone with Zoro, who literally hadn’t moved.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry if that was… embarrassing,” you blushed, taking a few steps forward. You were almost at the edge of the table. 

“It’s fine,” Zoro said after a moment, finally kneeling down so he was at eye level with you. “It wasn’t embarrassing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I definitely saw you blush.”

And just like that, he was blushing again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re doing it right now.”

Zoro didn’t say anything, instead opting to place his shoulder against the edge of the table so you could climb on. For reasons that eluded you, he was very averse to having you in his hand.

You hopped the small gap between the table and his shoulder, grabbing onto Zoro’s shirt collar to stabilize your landing. This wasn’t the first time you were on his person, but it would be the first time it happened off the ship.

“Ready?” he asked, keeping his hand cupped in front of you until you took a seat. You gave him a hearty thumbs up, and he bounded up the stairs.

It was always eye-opening to see the world from this perspective. It was one thing to experience it on the Going Merry, just the six of you, but getting to see strangers from the viewpoint of a giant was a whole different beast. Most people didn’t notice you were there, but a few would do double-takes, nearly stopping in their tracks to stare at you as Zoro walked by. Your stomach churned with each set of human eyes that followed you.

“They’re staring,” you frowned, speaking softly so only Zoro could hear.

“Of course they are,” Zoro muttered back. “They’ve probably never seen a tiny before.”

“Hmph.” You slumped over, wanting to say something, but unable to find the words. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Zoro said, sensing your discomfort. “It doesn’t matter what these people think.”

Easy for you to say, you wanted to remark, but stopped yourself. 

Like magic, Luffy practically materialized next to Zoro, making both of you jump. “Kona? Are you okay?”

“‘M fine, Luffy,” you lied. You knew he could see right through it. He had this talent of knowing more about people than they knew about themselves. Being at eye level with him while he was at his full height didn’t help you mask your feelings, either.

He stared at you intently, momentarily making you nervous, until he simply said, “Well, alright!” and bounded back to the front of the group.

After a few minutes of walking, you could start to sense that something was off. The bustling village center had melted away, replaced with run-down buildings and a sudden shroud of darkness.

“Sanji… are you sure this is the right place?” Usopp asked, clutching his slingshot in both hands.

“Positive,” he replied, though nobody was really encouraged by that. “I think.”

“Great,” Nami grumbled, rolling her eyes. Her hand twitched behind her back, ready to grab her staff.

“It’s okay,” Luffy reassured. “If Sanji thinks this is the place, then we’re going to check it out.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. If anything happens, the great Caption Usopp is here to protect y’all.”

Suddenly, a loud snapping sound echoed from a dark corner. Everyone’s heads whipped around, and your hands flung to the collar of Zoro’s patterned shirt to keep you from tumbling off. In catching your breath, you looked down and noticed that one of Zoro’s hands, usually quick to protect you, was now gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Well, well… if it isn’t the Straw Hat Pirates.”

“Zoro…” you said, voice shaking slightly. “What’s–”

You were cut off with a curt shh from your chaperone. And just a few seconds later, a horde of scraggly-looking people jumped out from all corners, surrounding your group in a matter of moments. A quick count revealed that you were outnumbered nearly 3-to-1.

“Nice place, waiter,” Zoro grumbled to his left, where Sanji stood. He just grunted.

There was laughter from the men. “These are the pirates worth over 10 million Berry? Each?”

“Musta been a misprint.”

The Straw Hats stayed silent as the group of mercenaries kept hurling half-baked insults. Zoro now had both his hands on his swords, and when he started to unsheathe them, that’s when one of them noticed you, letting out an ugly cackle.

“Check it out! This one's got a pet. You think that’ll fetch us extra bounty?”

You wanted to stand up and scream at them with all your might, but you knew better. You just sat there, face hot, staring straight ahead and ignoring the heat of everyone’s gazes on you.

“They’re not a pet,” Luffy hissed. “They’re a pirate, and they’re part of my crew.”

Another round of laughter. “Keep it alive,” one man, clearly the leader, spoke to his henchman. “It may make a fine gesture of goodwill.”

The men inched closer, clearly ready for a fight. Your knuckles were turning white as you looked up at Zoro, waiting to see what he’d do. 

“See, I told you bringing them would be a bad idea!” Nami said angrily, briefly giving you a sympathetic look.

“It’s alright,” Luffy told her. He sternly nodded at you, as if to say we got this, you’ll be fine. “We’ll protect them.”

At this point, you were panicking. You were now standing, unsure of what exactly you should be doing, but ready to run if you had to. It’s fine if I fall from this height, you thought, I can just hide over there. They’ll find me when they’re done. Nobody will see me over there, I’m sure of it. But what if they do? What if someone grabs me? Will I be someone’s pet for the rest of my life? What if–

You screamed when you felt a sudden pressure behind you and you were flipped upside down, your world turning blurry and dark. Your stomach told you you knew this sensation – being scooped up by a hand – but your brain told you to panic. You kicked and punched and even bit at the hands that now surrounded you, but in a matter of moments, the movement stopped. 

You were awkwardly laying down, feet up in the air as if you were falling in suspended animation. The light around you was translucent, almost angelic. Your tentative hand reached out to feel the material of the wall in front of you. Cotton. You shimmied into an upright position as everything began to dawn on you.

Zoro had grabbed you off his shoulder and deposited you into his front pocket.

The swordsman felt bad when he grabbed you with no warning, but he didn’t even have time for that. His heart panged when he felt your small kicks, and he made a mental note to apologize to you later.

You were just getting your bearings when a loud, scraping metal sound penetrated your ears – Zoro’s swords. You only had a few moments to flip to your knees for stability before he lurched forward into battle.

There was a lot of yelling and a lot of slashing. You were honestly surprised with how little you were being jolted around. Outside of training, you had only seen Zoro fight one other time, and that was the day the Straw Hats found you.

You were still shaking from being grabbed unceremoniously, and tears began to prick the corners of your eyes at the sheer scale of the situation. More than anything, it just reminded you of how scared you were when the pirates first saw you, and how you weren’t convinced that they actually wanted to be your friend.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud squelching sound, followed by a harrowing scream, followed by silence. Zoro was killing people. Of course he had to, or else he’d die himself. But here you were, uniquely positioned to feel his heartbeat and breaths, and through it all, he remained surprisingly calm. Like he wasn’t afraid at all.

That’s it. I have to see this.

You shook away your jitters as much as you could and stretched your arms up, briefly wishing you had Luffy’s rubber powers right about now. The top of Zoro’s pocket folded down when you grabbed onto it, and your arms were so shaky that as soon as Zoro lunged, you fell backwards. 

Your second try was more successful. You sucked in a deep breath and pulled yourself up, draping your arms over the top of the pocket to secure yourself.

What you saw was nothing short of incredible. The small group of mercenaries was apparently much larger, because more and more of them just kept coming from the shadows, only to be swiftly met with Zoro’s swords. Blood spattered everywhere, yet somehow, Zoro stayed clean. You gasped each time a body twisted to the ground, when limbs were cut off, and when Zoro would jump and run and flip his way out the line of enemy fire.

You don’t know how you managed to stay in his pocket, but it wasn’t without effort on your part. Maybe it was the pure adrenaline that kept you from vomiting everywhere. This was your first giant fight, after all.

Almost as soon as it started, the battle came to an end, with Zoro gracefully slicing through the chest of an enemy. This time, a bit of blood did spatter across his torso, narrowly avoiding your pocket home.

With calm composure, he peered down at you, a look of shock clearly present on your face.

“Sorry you had to see that.”

Through his patented monotone voice, you could hear the subtleties. He really did feel bad. Even if you were shaken up and still reeling from being so close to a massacre, your eyes shook as you craned your neck to look back up at Zoro. He understood that look, too: Don’t worry. I’ve seen this kind of thing before.

“Everyone okay?” Nami asked into the now-quiet night. As usual, everyone was fine.

“Kona,” Luffy breathed, running over to Zoro. “Where’s Kona?”

Zoro tilted his head down to his pocket and Luffy bent down, hands on his knees, with a relieved smile. The rest of the crew soon stood behind him, all looking to make sure you were alive and okay.

“You were in there the whole time?” Luffy asked, pointing to the pocket. You nodded. “Wow.”

Sanji smirked. “That couldn’t have been fun.”

“I dunno, feels pretty irresponsible to me,” Usopp said. “I think I’ll have to hang onto Kona next time so they aren’t put in danger again.”

You smiled. No matter the situation, Usopp never failed to make you feel better.

After a few moments of silence, Usopp spoke again. “So, uh, we’re leaving, right? Like, immediately?”

“What? No,” Sanji frowned. “We still haven’t gotten the ingredients I need.”

“We’re leaving,” Zoro declared, not waiting for an answer before turning around and walking away. Luffy, with his ever-present smile, just shrugged and followed his first mate back to the ship.

Sanji threw his arms out. “Guess our food will just taste like shit!”

Zoro didn’t even bother making the most obvious comeback, instead cupping his hand around his pocket. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said after a moment. “That was just…”

“Intense,” Zoro finished.

“Yeah. Intense.” A pause. “Does that happen… all the time?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Hm.” You leaned back into the comfort of the pocket. It was cozier than you thought a pocket could be, and the closeness of Zoro’s hand was able to calm you down.

“Sorry I grabbed you before,” Zoro said softly.

“It’s alright, Zoro. You didn’t really have a choice.”

“I’ll… try to give you a warning next time.”

“Or you could keep wearing shirts with pockets for me to sit in,” you smiled.

Zoro looked down with a smirk. “That’s comfortable for you?”

“It’s growing on me. And trust me, I’ve been in a lot worse.”

You didn’t ever talk about your past, but neither did anyone else, unless the situation mandated it. But he understood what it was like to have a traumatic upbringing.

“Well, good thing you’re with us now.”

You leaned forward, watching as the world whizzed by around you. You knew plenty of tinies who were in unfortunate situations – probably stuck in cages somewhere, or living alone in crevasses and abandoned buildings. You don’t know how you got so lucky to be found by the kindest pirates in history.

When you returned to the ship, Zoro bounded below deck to his hammock, and you stayed with him, letting the deep rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

Good thing indeed.

[iceskatingmobsters]

been working on my own headcanon timeline of owv's early years, so have a little bit about hornfels:

hornfels is just as adventurous and mischievous as slate and feldspar are when they're hatchlings, but is much less bombastic about it. despite their insatiable curiosity (or perhaps because of it) they're a pretty quiet kid. consequently, they're warned to stay well away from Danger Trio's wilder schemes and spends most of their time around the older hatchlings and the adults as a result. you know the quiet kid who was labelled as "mature for their age" but was kinda socially inept? that's hornfels. they don't have anything against the other members of their cohort, though; slate scares the shit out of them but they think slate is stupid smart, gossan seems funny and cool, and they are enthralled by feldspar's reckless curiosty. but they don't wanna get in trouble, because they're responsible or whatever. don't worry about the burns on their hands, they definitely got too close to a campfire and they definitely weren't messing around near the ghost matter patch again. for sure learned the first time not to be anywhere near the ghost matter patch.

they join in for as many shenanigans as they secretly can, anyways. those three are onto something, even if none of them -- including hornfels -- know exactly what, yet.

the old archivist/museum curator, gravel, sees a bit of themself in hornfels and takes them under their wing. gravel is of the firm belief that remembering the past and holding to tradition is what keeps the hearthians and their culture alive -- every archaic item from their past, every story has a lesson to be learned and is worthwhile to keep and remember. that isn't to say that they refuse to move on with the times, that would be a different sort of stupid, but to ignore the lessons of the past is, at best, idiocy, and at worst, deadly. needless to say they kinda hate the "space program" because the whole village knows what happens to people who stray too close to the geysers.

hornfels kinda loves the space program, which is a fucking problem. they start out as an occasional consultant -- they're easy to find most clear nights with a telescope, anyways, so they're Danger Trio's best source for questions about potential space travel who will actually give them the time of day, as long as it's out of gravel's earshot. and then it became hornfels seeking the others out, asking about their progress, offering their own ideas and advice and theories and and and...

here's the thing. hornfels likes archival work and history work, they do. they took gravel's stance that every moment deserves to be remembered and learned from to heart. but space calls to them in a language they can't ignore -- the call of endless discovery, of new technology and flora and fauna, and not just studying the stars on clear nights but being out there, with them, and maybe even finding other people out there in the great expanse if they're lucky. hornfels thinks they will be. there's a couple odd skeletons in those ruins in the mountains and with the expansiveness tektite described, there's no way those were the only ones of their kind out there.

hornfels stakes their claim on a spot as a member of ventures, proper, after feldspar blows themself up the first time (unfair of them to think that way, on second thought, that accident wasn't really anyone's fault) under the condition of utmost secrecy. which is fine! they'd snuck out to cause trouble with the others when they were really young, and the other three have been working in relative secrecy ever since the first barrel they threw into a geyser and got really serious about the whole thing. they're a lot more flippant about it than hornfels, is, though, because getting caught just means less resources and tighter works schedules, for them. for hornfels, not so much -- despite their disagreements on risk-taking and the price of progress, hornfels deeply respects and cares for gravel, and going behind their back like this is necessary and painful. they'll lose a lot more than a week in the hatchling cabin if they're well and truly caught. they want to tell gravel! they're going to, eventually. they're just gonna wait until they've got something physical and successful to show for all of ventures' hard work to bolster their case.

they don't get the chance. gravel dies a few short months before ventures is ready for their first launch, when things are getting really hard to hide. it's a silver lining, to not have to scramble so hard to hide their involvement in gravel's least favorite project in the village, but hornfels is crushed under the weight of what was left unsaid.

they find themself preoccupied with a new project, too. gravel left behind a veritable mountain of unsorted donations of old hearthian paraphernalia that they never got around to putting on display -- truth is, most of the stuff they kept isn't really worthy of display. it's too busted up, usually, or not particularly noteworthy. hornfels had offered to help sort it all, time and time again, but gravel had always refused them, saying it was their responsibility and they shouldn't have put it off for so long. they aren't here to refuse hornfels, anymore, and the pile seems insurmountable. gravel believed that every object given to them had a story and a lesson, and hornfels believes it, but they don't believe everything has to be kept pristine and behind glass to take what you need from it. it feels wrong, to throw away gravel's collected bits and bobs, but hornfels doesn't have much of a choice.

they step away from ventures for a week and a half, to sort through the old donation pile, and their guilt and grief along with it. when they come back, museum more organized than it's ever been, the grief isn't easier, but it's quiet enough they can focus on other things.

feldspar launches a month after that and comes back with a singed rocking chair. hornfels had cleared a space out for an entire ship, outside the museum, but a rocking chair is just fine, because it came back with gossan's ideas for new safety protocols, slate's plans for the next ship, and feldspar's wonder at what they saw, out there in the cosmos. hornfels learns what they need to, preserves what they can, and gets ready for what's next.

[sabraeal]

The Sword Between, Chapter 5

[Read on AO3]

Blue silk settles over her like an estranged acquaintance; two years ago it had fit like a second skin, but now it squeezes at the bust and requires far fewer petticoats to pad out her hips. The hem, however, settles perfectly— a finger’s breadth above the the floor, just as it always had. A terrible way to learn she hasn’t grown a single, vertical inch since seventeen. Makiri will be practically unlivable.

“Such a pretty color, my lady.” Ami’s hands smooth over the skirt, coaxing out the creases that linger at her waist. Haki is half-tempted to tell her not to bother; it’s a fabric that begs to be rumpled, the furrowing above her hips only serving as a reminder of how hands might sit there, silk wrinkled in their grip. Of how easily it might crumple beneath the slightest pressure, like petals plucked from a flower's stem.

The last time she had worn this dress, she'd been more concerned about whether her prince might find her singing voice pretty, or hear rumors of her fair face and be tempted to sneak north simply for a glimpse of it than what an enterprising young man and a willing young lady might get up to in Wilant's dark corners. But Lowen had been her age now-- older, if she does not mistake her figures, though not by much-- and more than ready to contemplate such arrangements. Had he thought of it even as he knelt before her, head bowed in deference, swearing to protect her body with his own? Had he gazed up at her with that that placid mask of his, still as a lake's surface, and felt the first ripples of--?

“His Highness will surely think it suits.”

Haki's secretive smile sours to a pout. “I look young.”

Feels young is more like it, fingering the fall of lace at her décolletage. She’d been little more than a child the last time she donned this particular frock, and it’d been a season out style even then, the seamstresses of the city unable to keep up with the rush to raise bust lines and drop hemlines and overhaul sleeves altogether. But she had been proud of this one, so unlike the other gowns father had gotten for her— practically modern and made with silk bought off Tanbarunian traders instead of salvaged from one of Mother’s old gowns. A fairy tale of a dress, a dream, and...

And she’d put it away with all the others when the first prince had made clear he was in no rush to settle down with a lady wife. Yet here she was now, trotting it out to spin another story for a child even younger than she. There was poetry in that, perhaps, even if it was only the sad kind.

“Boys like His Highness do prefer a youthful lady,” Ami muses, gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “At least, if he’s naught but sixteen, as your father’s man says.”

Haki hardly misses the stress on that— your father’s man. As if she could not lay the same word's at Ami's feet-- her father's maid, paid to make sure all of her most embarrassing escapades ended up in the duke's ear.

“A pity there’s no time to have me done up in ringlets.” Fine hairs flyaway from the loose braids behind her ears; she smooths them down. “It would have made for a much more convincing ingénue.”

Ami is not the sort to smirk or sneer, but there is a twitch at the corner of her lips, a wryness that not even her scrupulous good manners can smother. “You are hardly old enough to need tricks for that, my lady. Sir Lowen is right” —as much as she is loath to admit it now, her sigh says— “it would be little hardship to fall in love with you in this dress.”

She doubts that this prince will be moved to devotion by a frock near three years out of date or by the older woman wearing it, but she must admit-- there is some charm left to it. The blue brings out the palest shades of her eyes and complements the most honeyed tones in her hair; a far cry from the humble damsel awaiting her rescue, but a fairy tale princess nonetheless.

“One can hope,” she breathes, hand splayed over the fabric at her belly. “Or at least fair enough to inspire some foolishness.”

Ami hums; a melody that swings between agreement and agitation with every note. “Certainly more reasonable men have made themselves fools for you.”

It’s a pointed remark, for all that she can’t think of a single one. The men who frequent Wilant are friends of her father, old enough to have children her own age. Few of them spare her a glance, save if they have a son her age, though those have been few and far between since her betrothal. There are soldiers of course— guardsmen who care more about Makiri’s skill than her conversation— and servants, but none that—

“Is there anything else I’ll be needing to take care of, my lady?” Ami asks, solicitously smoothing out the lace at her shoulder. And yet her gaze fixes elsewhere in the mirror, somewhere over Haki’s shoulder. The door to the sitting room, as if she’s waiting for someone to walk through. A ridiculous worry with Lowen guarding the door. “Anything that needs an extra cleaning?”

Her gaze cuts towards where the dressing screen sits, toile covered in scenes of young ladies picnicking and small dogs running over picturesque stone ruins. There’s not a stain on it, as cream-and-teal as it was the day she’d had it brought it, hoping that it might help keep the heat in around her—

Her bed. A pertinent question for a maid to ask after she had been sent away for the night, assured that there would be another set of hands to help her charge undress. Who had only seen a rumpled mess of sheets when she arrived in the morning, fire lit by an expert’s hands. And now with whatever she had seen in the hall…

Well, if she had thought her reflection young before, her flush makes it positively childish now. “N-no. There’s no need to—”

It’s mortifying to try to put the night into words. How close she had trod to impropriety, only to be rebuffed. How sure she was of his interest even so, only for yet another prince to put himself between them. Oh, if that Bergatt boy put himself before her right now and asked if she would like to see the end of the Wisteria reign, she could hardly be responsible for the answer she might give.

A practiced breath draws her upright, shoulders square as her father had taught her— you are my daughter, he would grunt, holding them straight in his hands, there are few to whom you must bow, and none to whom you must bend. It is not a sweet young princess that looks back at her in the mirror, but a lady of the North, ready to defend her walls.

“There is nothing with which you must concern yourself with,” she says with all the ice her blood can summon. “I think you will find your hands full already, trying to find more dresses that will please His Highness during his stay.”

“As you say, my lady.” Ami bows her head, as a servant ought, but it does little to conceal her smile— or her relief. “Though I’m sure there will be quite a few, if I look among some of your older wardrobe.”

It takes a concerted effort not to grimace. She too had been a more whimsical girl once, as taken with fairy stories as she was with the old lays, dreaming of knights and their ladies. Of princes disguised and true love’s kiss. “They will need to be retrimmed.”

“Of course.” There’s a fondness as Ami lays her hand on a trunk, a wistfulness Haki cannot quite understand. “I’ll see to it.”

“Good.” She steps down from the mirror with a sigh, her dress rustling after her like leaves in the underbrush. “I’ll need all the help I can get.”

*

Lowen is on his feet when she sweeps into the parlor. Odd; for all his much vaunted skill in the ring— a beast with a blade in his hand, Makiri had always told her, like he’s fighting for his life— her guardsman always seemed more apt to lounge than lunge outside it. And yet as he stands there, attention drawn to the angle of her entrance, his weight shifts in a way that implies movement rather than repose.

“Come.” It would be simple to brush too close as she passes him, to let their eyes meet in a gaze so heavy it might well be a caress, but she bustles past instead, careful to keep even the barest hint of ruffle from slipping over his boots. “My father calls.”

It is not until her toes cross the carpet’s edge that she realizes their are no footfalls behind her, that Lowen has not fallen into step, using that rangy stride of his to eat up the distance between them. No, when she glances over her shoulder, he is still where she last left him, hands curled to fists at his side.

“Sir.” There is a layer of reproach as she speaks, covering the concern beneath it. “He is waiting.”

His fingers twitch, the barest flinch. “Are you certain?”

Haki does not turn to him— that would be a concession too far, a confession with a dearer cost than she can afford— but her shoulder does lower. “That Father waits?”

“No.” Lowen hardly allows a thought to stray across his face, let alone wears his heart on his sleeve, but there is something that lurk beneath the gaze he fixes on her, a castigation and a plea all in one. “That it is wise to bring me.”

A princess does not allow her mouth to thin, does not let her eyebrows angle to imply impatience; a good thing, then, that Haki is not one yet.

“Sir, if there is anything that I am certain of, it is that.” She shifts— not a ceding of ground, but a firming of resolve. A planting of her feet, gaining better leverage to yank on his leash. “Come. You would not have your lady go to battle without her knight.”

Still, he remains unmoved. Not even the barest sway to show he’s heard her.

“Is that what this is?” he says after a long moment. “A battle?”

Her mouth works for a moment, uncertain. “What else can it be? If my father were to bend any more…”

Then the North would be broken. On one side would be the ones who still clung to Father’s prudence, who would see profit in playing Wistal’s games, and on the other—

Well, it had been said once that the stones between Wilant and Oriold would never wash clean. That even now, when the snows melt, the side of the roads run red. The lords of the North may play at civility now, nodding at the southern court’s fashion of love and courtly graces, but that only hides the histories written with bloodied hands.

Lowen breathes, eyes fluttering shut as he takes it in, but when they open—

There is steel there. A resolve that does not waver. “Then let us go to battle, my lady.”

*

She is too aware of Lowen as they make their way through Wilant’s halls; aware of how his gaze lingers on her, tracing the fall of lace along her collar and dragging down the silken curve of her waist. Aware of the space between them, just enough for an arm to reach across and grab, for the inches to disappear between them and to finally finish the conversation Ami had so unfortunately interrupted.

It’s tempting to turn, to catch his eyes and invite the sort of resolution it would bring. But even though his stare burns hot enough to catch her alight, he does not speak. Not a single word to draw her attention, not a single brush of skin against skin to call her to him. Although her legs tremble effort with the effort to keep putting one slipper in front of the other and her neck aches from keeping it angled straight ahead, he does not stop her, not once.

It is too important, she realizes. For all that she wants to clutch at Lowen’s shoulders and ask just what thought churn behind that stare of his, it is a distraction she can ill afford. Her father’s plans are balanced on a blade’s edge, and it is her who decides which way their fortunes tip.

She will not disappoint him.

It is still Arleon guards on the door to the great hall, and they move aside before she even utters, “My father is expecting me.”

A single step inside is enough to know why: the prince’s party has already arrived. Still covered in the dust from the road by the looks of it, harried and eager to be shown to the privacy of their chambers. By the wary angle of the royal guards’ shoulders, Father and Makiri have resorted to thin excuses to keep them here. Waiting for her.

With a steeling breath, she nods to the footman at the door. “Lady Haki,” he announces, the slightest tremble in his voice. He’s not used to such esteemed visitors, it seems. “First daughter of his lordship, the Duke Arleon.”

If she thought she might have trouble picking out the prince from among all this white and blue and broad shoulders, she is saved the trouble; his party drops to show the deference due to a duke’s daughter, leaving only a single one of them on his feet.

The queen consort had sent her a gift once, during the months in which her father and the king dickered over the finer points of her betrothal of the first prince— a miniature, done fully in oils, of Izana himself. Long engagements may be prudent, she had written in her elegant hand, letters looping across the page, but they often are lonely. Let this satisfy both your company and your curiosity.

He could not have been more than fifteen, maybe sixteen when he had sat for the portrait, but even so, there was a gravity to that narrow face, a piercing quality to the deepness in his eyes. A regal tilt to his pointed chin, a knowing that lingered in this corners of his mouth; strangely serious for a prince who would become more known for parties than policy. Not yet a man, but she could see the one he would make once the last of childhood was stripped from his cheeks.

What they have sent her now is hardly more than a child.

His brother’s portrait might have hinted at manhood, but this boy— his face is still round, baby fat still clinging stubbornly to his bones. Perhaps there is a threat of a heavy jaw lingering there, a promise of something masculine and square opposed to Izana’s more feminine angles, but it is impossible to tell beneath those full cheeks, flushed and flawless as a doll’s. His hair is cut the same way of his brother’s, but instead of falling with a stately sort of grace across his forehead, it is a dandelion’s tuft, baby-fine and untamed.

“Ah, Your Highness.” Father’s gaze holds hers for a long moment before it drops to the would-be heir,  meeting his wide eyes with no hint of his displeasure. “You have yet to meet the reason for all our celebration, I assume. Haki” — his hand sweeps out, beckoning— “come. Greet our honored guest.”

She doesn’t not so much walk as float down the runner of the Great Hall, skirts swaying as if it is only clouds that ruffle their hem, not carpet. It takes hours of practice to turn that which is earthly to the ethereal, but Haki had long shouldered every ache and tumble in the name of causing her prodigal husband to swallow his tongue at the altar.

There is something far less satisfying about inspiring the same reaction in his brother. “It is an honor that you have come for so humble an occasion, Your Highness.”

“Of course.” His voice is reedy, not quite finished changing even if she can hear the man in it. It breaks at her flawless curtsy, flustered. “I mean, the honor is mine. It is hardly every day that we can celebrate such a fine young lady becoming a woman.”

It’s the sort of thing a fond uncle might say, not a boy four years her junior, but Haki smiles nonetheless, hoping it does not sit as stiff as it feels. “You are too kind, sir.”

“Not at all,” he insists with a graciousness that would seem more natural on a man three times his age. “It is its own sort of accomplishment. To be, er…”

“Twenty.” When Makiri smiles it is all teeth, a wolf scenting blood on the snow. “That’s how old my sister is. Old enough to get married now, according to your southerners, isn’t it?”

The prince is too earnest— and his skin far too pale— to cover the flush that blooms up his neck, painting him pink from collar to brow. “T-that is true. But, erm…” His gaze casts about, trying to find a safe place to perch. “Ah, b-but I haven’t yet introduced my party. Sirs…?”

One of the men rises— dark hair shorn short enough that she can see a neck as brown as a laborer’s, far from the lily white of the noble son knelt beside him. He unfurls to a startling height with the same lassitude as the castle’s cats, as if he was only ever on his knees because it pleased him to do so. There’s a cant to his mouth that only supports the implication, but when she raises her eyes to meet his eyes—

She flinches. There’s a scar there— a gouge, badly healed, that stretches from cheek to cheek.

“Sir Zakura Shidnote, my lords— and lady.” He nods at her, mouth tilting toward a smirk. “Lately of the Royal Knight’s Circle. And this is Sir Michel” — his hand cuts toward the noble son getting to his feet, a boy just about Makiri’s age, though he carries it better— “one of the more promising squires from our last bout of new blood.”

“I’m a knight, really,” the young man insists, pushing back the hair that’s flopped over his eyes. “Though I am, ah…new, my lord.”

“Just earned your accolades, is it?” Father may not be a man of smiles, but his eyes crinkle at the corners, warm. “My son—”

“Earned them two year ago,” Makiri interjects acidly, brows bent in his most surly scowl. As if that would help him look any older than his scant years.

Practically a veteran, she almost says, but there is not enough wide-eyed sincerity in her to cover the bite. As much as she might like to tease, she hardly needs to be reminded: they are not among friends.

“Just so.” Father squints the way he does at their accounts, tallying up the men before him. “Did you not have another man in your party?”

“Ah, yes, Sir Mitsuhide.” The prince's mouth pulls thin before he recollects himself, grimace turning to boyish grin. “My apologies, I had hoped for all of us to be here to greet you, but time was short, and there was an issue with our…baggage. We left him to sort it out with your staff.”

Father’s mouth turns stern. “Then should it not be I who apologies to you, Your Highness? If there was some issue, then surely—”

“Ah, no no! This was, er…our fault,” His Highness insists, oddly guilty. “I’m afraid my mother insisted on one last gift, even after all the carriages had been packed tight! It changed…quite a lot of our travel plans.”

“I see,” Father murmurs, though it’s quite clear he does not. He is not a man of last-minute anythings, let alone travel plans.

“But he will be here for the formal reception, of course!” The prince smiles, bright. “He wouldn’t miss it— he’s a northerner, trained at your very own Sereg.”

“Sereg.” Now her brother straightens in his seat, an excited sheen in his eyes. “So he’s skilled, then?”

“Some,” Sir Zakura drawls, a corner of his mouth creeping up his cheek. “Enough that the king requested him by name.”

“By name…?” Now it is her father who leans in, brow furrowed. “You cannot mean— Mitsuhide Lowen?”

The prince nods, pleased. “The very same.”

“I’ll be damned.” Father settles back in his seat. “I nearly asked him here, before His Majesty snapped him up. He was one of Sereg’s finest swords. ”

Sir Zakura smirks. “And now he is one of Wistal’s.”

“Lowen?” Haki keeps her voice low, pitched for only her and her shadow to hear. It's a curious coincidence, considering how closely her knight has always played his card to the chest. “Is there any relation to…?”

Her chin tilts, hoping to catch his eye-- or at least the angle of his mouth, but--

But when she slants her eyes to his usual place at her shoulder, there is nothing behind her but empty air.

[worstsequence]

[ribbonpinky-art]

idk how to format thiiiieeesee

i doodled all these a couple days ago and now im in the process of drawing spat on-model from the anime and its very hard. also, im am going to give him a frenzied confused meltdown every 5 seconds by calling him cute

objectively he is a cute hampster idk what to tell him

[mononijikayu]

blanket kick — fushiguro megumi.

You blinked, momentarily surprised by his sudden and straightforward confession. A smile slowly spread across your face as you took in his earnest expression. “Are you asking me out on a date, Megumi?” His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he nodded vigorously, feeling both exhilarated and embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I know it’s kind of sudden, but I really want to….” Before he could finish, you interrupted with a warm, affirming smile. “I’d love to go out with you, Megumi.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, First Love, First Date, Comfort, Humor, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Cheek Kiss, First Love Panic, Fushiguro Megumi is In Love, Sorcerer! Megumi, Sorcerer!Reader, Megumi and Reader Are A Bit Older, Gojo Satoru is A Father, Genmei Mention Again, I Love Us And Them, I Need To Write it;

WORDS: 8.7k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i adored writing this because megumi come back!!! this makes this future possible where older! sorcerer megumi just has his first date and being able to experience his first love. i am genuinely ahhhhhhhhh, megumi comeback the best thing to me. also i usually write genmei in she/you pov but since reader is in the you perspective, i needed to differentiate. genmei my beloved ily i will write for you and satoru more. but anyway, i love you guys so much!!! i hope you enjoy this!!! 🫶

main masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 1000;

if you want to, tip! <3

________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

✧. ┊         

⋆ ★

IT WAS RARE FOR HIM TO FEEL LIKE THIS. As Megumi stood in front of the mirror, he found himself swallowing hard, his nerves frayed and his heart racing. The reflection staring back at him was both familiar and strange—a young man dressed carefully for his first date, a significant step into uncharted territory. Today was not just any day; it was the day of his very first date, and the anticipation was almost overwhelming.

He adjusted his collar for the umpteenth time, each small movement reflecting his anxiety and eagerness. His normally disheveled dark hair was neatly styled, and his outfit was carefully chosen—a simple yet elegant look that he hoped would strike the right balance between casual and thoughtful.

Despite the preparation, his mind raced with a thousand worries: whether he looked presentable enough, if his nerves would get the better of him, and most importantly, whether he would be able to make a good impression on you.

Megumi’s eyes scanned his reflection, taking in every detail with a critical gaze. He noted how his fingers twitched slightly as he adjusted his tie, how the slight tremor in his hands betrayed his inner turmoil. He had always been confident in his jujutsu abilities, but standing here now, dressed for a date, felt like stepping into a whole new world.

The gravity of the situation settled over him like a heavy blanket. It wasn’t just a date—it was a meaningful gesture, a chance to share a special moment with you, someone who had become incredibly important to him. He replayed the words he wanted to say, the plans he had meticulously made, and the hopes he carried for the evening. The weight of wanting everything to go perfectly was both exhilarating and daunting.

Megumi took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He remembered the way you had smiled when he asked you out, the genuine warmth and acceptance in your eyes. That memory was a comforting anchor amidst his swirling thoughts. He wanted to make this first date memorable, not just for himself but for you as well. The thought of disappointing you was the last thing he wanted, and that fear only heightened his nervousness.

As he continued to gaze at his reflection, he caught sight of his own eyes—nervous yet determined. He realized that despite all his anxieties, this was a chance he was ready to embrace. It was his opportunity to show you how much he valued and cared for you, to step out of his comfort zone and into a moment that could change everything.

A soft, self-assured smile began to form on his lips as he made a final adjustment to his outfit. He squared his shoulders, lifting his chin slightly, and took one last deep breath. The mirror no longer reflected just a nervous young man, but someone ready to take a step forward, someone who was willing to face his fears for the chance to be with you.

He could remember the day he asked you out. You really didn’t seem to be interested in guys like him, let alone romantic pursuits. But he wasn’t going to know if he didn’t try. Well, that’s what Yuji and Nobara said to him. He had to ask, he had to know what you felt about him. And just go with the flow. But the thing is, Fushiguro Megumi didn’t know what to do with the flow. And with you? He’s going to fail. He knows he will. Because, when it comes to you, he is always defeated. Because he’s too much into you. And the thing is — he doesn’t want to get out.

He thinks he blacked out when he asked you. But when you finally say yes to a date with Megumi Fushiguro, his emotions surge through him like a flood. He’s overwhelmed, not just with happiness, but with a strange mix of excitement and disbelief. 

Fushiguro Megumi feels as if he’s rooted to the ground, yet his heart flutters wildly, making him feel almost ridiculous, like he’s become something other than himself—like a tree, sturdy on the outside, but swaying with the breeze of his emotions. 

He had to take some time to get his shit together. He could only remember what happened, now that he’s already getting his senses in order. Or at least some semblance of it back. It’s hard to do that too, when it comes to you. 

The usual rhythm of punches, kicks, and curses filled the air. You and Megumi moved through the drills with practiced ease, the intensity of the training casting a sense of focus. You were the only ones here today, since Yuji and Nobara were given separate missions. You both still weren’t, since you both had just come home from one.

So, all the agenda today was training strengths instead. He tries to be into the game, he really did. Yet, beneath the surface of the grueling workout, Fushiguro Megumi's mind was far from the physical exertion. He had been wrestling with his feelings for a while now, and it's been hard on him. 

Because you were everything and he…he didn’t know how to cope. But after a long struggle, he knew he couldn’t let you slip away. You were a marvel in his world and he can’t let you slip away. Not right now. Not ever. And so, today, he had decided, was the day he would ask you out.

As the training session neared its end, Megumi found himself glancing at you more frequently, his thoughts racing. His heart pounded with a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like an invisible force. Would you even consider dating him? His thoughts were bleak about it. But…But what if you say yes? Wouldn’t that be a good thing? There’s always that hope.

Finally, as the session concluded and you both took a moment to catch your breath, Megumi cleared his throat, trying to gather the courage to speak. The casual atmosphere of the gym felt oddly charged with tension, and he found himself fidgeting with his training gear, unable to maintain eye contact.

“Hey.” he started, his voice coming out a bit hoarse. You looked over, wiping sweat from your brow, curious about what he had to say.

“Yeah? What’s up?” you asked, giving him a reassuring smile that made his heart skip a beat.

Megumi took a deep breath, his resolve solidifying. “So, I was thinking… Maybe we could, um, go out sometime. Like, on a date. I mean….If you want to. I just, it can be anything—”

You kept looking at him as his words tumbled out in a rush, and as soon as he finished speaking, he felt an immediate wave of relief and nervousness. His heart raced as if it were trying to break free from his chest, and he could hardly believe he had finally said it. The air around him seemed to thicken, the usual sounds of the training area fading into the background.

You blinked, momentarily surprised by his sudden and straightforward confession. A smile slowly spread across your face as you took in his earnest expression. “Are you asking me out on a date, Megumi?”

His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he nodded vigorously, feeling both exhilarated and embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I know it’s kind of sudden, but I really want to….”

Before he could finish, you interrupted with a warm, affirming smile. “I’d love to go out with you, Megumi.”

His reaction was instantaneous. It was as if a floodgate had opened, and all the emotions he had been holding back surged through him. He felt rooted to the ground, his body rigid with a mix of disbelief and elation. Yet, inside, his heart fluttered wildly, making him feel almost ridiculous, like a tree swaying in the breeze of his emotions.

For a moment, Megumi simply stood there, processing your acceptance. The overwhelming joy and relief made him feel like he was floating, and he couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. He tried to play it cool, but his face betrayed his excitement, his eyes bright with a mixture of happiness and awe.

“Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t quite believe his own luck.

You nodded, still smiling. “Really. I’m looking forward to it.”

Megumi’s grin widened, and he felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the post-training sweat. “Great. I’ll… I’ll figure out the details and let you know.”

As you both gathered your things and prepared to leave, Megumi couldn’t shake the feeling of joy that seemed to be bubbling up inside him. He had asked you out, and you had said yes. It felt like the start of something new and wonderful, and as he walked beside you, the world seemed to sparkle just a little bit more.

He’s puzzled by his own behavior. It would have been nicer if he was able to say it properly then. Why is he getting so weird in front of you? Why does he suddenly feel like a child, when he’s far from one? He catches himself making silly jokes, laughing too loud, and it embarrasses him. But when he looks into your eyes, he hopes you can see that none of it is meant to be taken seriously—except for the part where he likes you, and saying it out loud feels like moving a mountain.

He always thought he was too shy to be someone’s sun, so he became a cold, distant moon instead, quietly admiring you from afar. But now, lying in his bed, his emotions are anything but cold. They’re a raging ocean, and he’s caught up in waves of blankets, tossing and turning, jumping around like a madman. He imagines himself in a UFC ring, fighting off his embarrassment with high kicks, jabs, and hooks, trying to punch away the nervous energy that’s been building up.

But even as he lets it all out, pounding his mattress like a punching bag, he wishes for an iron to smooth out the tension in his hands and feet, to calm the storm inside him. You’ve already slipped into his thoughts, into the lyrics of his heart, repeating over and over in his mind. His poor blanket has taken a beating, but all he really wants is for you to be there with him, to share in this moment that feels like the beginning of something new and beautiful.

Megumi Fushiguro paced back and forth in his room, his normally calm demeanor unraveling with every step. His mind raced, tangled with a thousand what-ifs that refused to settle. His hands were buried in his hair, tugging slightly as if that might somehow pull the anxiety out of him. You had already said yes—you had actually said yes to going on a date with him. But now, the reality of it all was sinking in, and he felt like he was drowning.

What if he messes this up? What if he says something stupid? What if—

“Wow, you’re really losing it, huh? I’ve never seen you this worked up, Megumi. It’s almost cute.”

Megumi spun around to see Gojo Satoru sprawled out on his bed, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. His mentor’s carefree attitude only heightened Megumi’s frustration. He was sitting primly, drinking some overly sweet soda that he always likes. It was his day off today, now that he was taking some time to just enjoy his day to day from working. Megumi had been glad for him to just rest, but today was a bad day. He will never see the end of it when it comes to Gojo Satoru’s teasing tones.

“This isn’t funny, Gojo–sensei.” Megumi snapped, his voice tight with nerves. “I’ve never done this before. What if I ruin everything? I can’t ruin it with them—”

Gojo waved a hand dismissively, as if Megumi’s concerns were nothing more than trivial worries. “Relax, you’re not going to ruin anything. Just be yourself. You’re already overthinking it, already. Slow down. I doubt they’ll mind if you make a mistake, hm?”

Megumi groaned, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease as he dropped down onto the bed beside Gojo. He stared at the ceiling, trying to find some semblance of calm, but all he could think about was how easily he could screw this up.

“That’s easy for you to say. Especially with Gen-san around.” Megumi muttered. “You’re always so confident. I feel like I’m going to freeze up the moment I see them.”

Gojo’s smirk widened as he nudged Megumi with his elbow. “Freezing up isn’t the worst thing that could happen. I mean, you could trip and spill something all over them. Or, I don’t know, accidentally insulting their favorite food or something.”

Megumi’s eyes widened in horror as the thought struck him with unexpected clarity. He was mid-adjustment of his jacket when it hit him—a startling realization that sent a cold wave of panic through him. The possibility of something going wrong, of embarrassing himself in front of you, suddenly felt all too real.

He could almost see the scenario unfolding in his mind: a clumsy misstep, an awkward silence, or worse, a complete lapse in composure that would make the date memorable for all the wrong reasons. The dread of potentially making a fool of himself was overwhelming, and his heart raced as he pictured each disastrous possibility in vivid detail.

At that exact moment, Gojo, who had been lounging casually nearby, caught sight of Megumi’s distress. The sudden change in Megumi’s demeanor, from calm to panicked, was impossible to ignore. Gojo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched Megumi’s struggle with the growing anxiety.

“You’re not helping!” Megumi shot back, sitting up abruptly, his heart pounding even harder now.

Unable to contain himself, Gojo burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room. “Oh man, look at you!” Gojo exclaimed, shaking his head with a grin. “You’re really losing it over this, aren’t you?”

Megumi’s face flushed crimson as he turned to look at Gojo, his initial shock quickly morphing into a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “Shut up, Gojo–sensei!” he snapped, though the edge in his voice was softened by the underlying anxiety. “I’m trying to get this right.”

“Okay, okay,” Gojo said, still chuckling but with a hint of sincerity in his voice. “Seriously, though, Megumi, they already said yes because they seem to like you. Just talk to them like you always do. You don’t need to impress them with anything fancy or overcomplicated. Besides, you’re already way cooler than you give yourself credit for.”

Megumi took a deep breath, trying to let Gojo’s words sink in. He could feel his nerves still bubbling beneath the surface, but maybe Gojo was right. Maybe he was overthinking this. “Is that what you did with Gen–san?”

“Eh? But my wifey already loved me from the beginning, Megumi. What can I say, I’m a charmer?”

“That sounds like an outright lie.”

“I never joke about my wifey!” Gojo Satoru grinned, raising his soda as though to toast.  Megumi rolled his eyes. “You’ll do great, don’t worry. Well, maybe not as well as me.”

“But what if I say something awkward?” Megumi asked, his voice quieter now, almost as if he was afraid to voice his fear.

Gojo shrugged with a grin. “Then laugh it off. You’re allowed to be a little awkward; it just makes you more human. And trust me, they’re probably nervous too. Just focus on having a good time together. It happens like that, hm?”

Megumi nodded at him. “.....Alright.”

Gojo’s laughter continued, his eyes sparkling with a playful glint. “It’s just a date, Megumi! You’re going to be fine. You’ve got this in the bag.” He put a hand on Megumi’s shoulder, his tone shifting to one of mock-seriousness. “There’ll always be more. Slip on the wet floor sign? They’ll giggle and get you another date. I’m sure they’ll give you another shot. You’re a good kid after all, you know?”

Megumi couldn’t help but feel a bit of his tension easing at Gojo’s infectious laughter and his playful reassurances. The sight of Gojo’s exaggerated gestures and the sheer absurdity of his over-the-top reactions reminded Megumi of how he had allowed his worries to spiral out of control.

“Yeah, well, easy for you to say.” Megumi grumbled, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “You’re not the one going on their first date.”

Gojo’s laughter finally subsided, and he looked at Megumi with a more sincere expression. “Hm, I’m already past that phase. But well, tip from someone who had their first date, don’t be so bothered about perfection. You’re going to do just fine. Just be yourself, and everything will work out.”

Megumi nodded, taking a deep breath as he absorbed Gojo’s words. Despite his continued nervousness, the reminder that he didn’t have to be perfect—just genuine—helped to calm his racing thoughts. Gojo’s light-hearted teasing had, in a strange way, helped him to gain perspective and regain a bit of his confidence.

“Thanks, Gojo–sensei.” Megumi said, his voice softer but more determined. “I appreciate it.”

Gojo gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “Anytime. Now go out there and make that date unforgettable—in a good way!”

With Gojo’s playful encouragement still ringing in his ears, Megumi took one last look in the mirror, feeling a renewed sense of resolve. The horror of his initial thoughts had given way to a steadier determination, and as he prepared to head out, he felt more ready to face the evening with you, knowing that, despite his nerves, he had the support of his friend.

Megumi nodded, feeling a flicker of confidence take root inside him. “Yeah, I think I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit.” Gojo grinned, standing up and stretching. “Now, go knock their socks off. Just… not literally. Not yet, okay? You guys are still not hitting third base!”

Megumi rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Thanks, Gojo.”

“Anytime, kiddo.” Gojo winked as he headed for the door, turning back with a teasing grin. “Just make sure to tell me all the juicy details afterward.”

Megumi grabbed a pillow and hurled it at Gojo, who dodged it with a laugh as he slipped out the door. Alone in his room, Megumi took a deep breath, feeling the remnants of his panic begin to dissipate. He still felt nervous—how could he not? But with Gojo’s words echoing in his mind, he also felt something else: a quiet determination to make this date something special, something memorable.

And maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out just fine.

“Tell Gen–san I’ll be home late.”

“Hm, okay~ Get home safe, okay? Score a kiss or a hug at least!”

“Shut up!” 

“How about no?~”

________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

✧. ┊         

⋆ ★

EVERYTHING WAS GOING WELL SO FAR. The evening was warm, the kind of night where the air felt like a gentle caress, and the city was bathed in a golden glow as the sun began its descent. You and Megumi had chosen a cozy, quiet restaurant tucked away in a corner of the city, away from the bustling crowds. It was the perfect place for your first date—intimate, yet casual enough to ease the tension that had been building up since you both agreed to it.

As you sat across from him, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes kept drifting to your face, lingering on your eyes, your nose, your lips. It wasn’t the first time you caught him staring, but tonight, it felt different—intense, almost as if he was trying to memorize every detail. You could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure, his usual stoic mask cracking ever so slightly.

Megumi cleared his throat and looked down at his menu, trying to distract himself, but the slight flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “So, uh, what do you feel like eating?” he asked, his voice a little too casual.

You smiled, feeling a mix of amusement and fondness. “I’m not sure. Maybe something light? What about you?”

He nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The waiter came by, and you both placed your orders. When the drinks arrived, Megumi raised his glass to you, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Cheers,” he said, his voice a little softer now, more sincere.

You clink your glass against his, noticing the way his hand trembled slightly. He took a big gulp, almost as if he was trying to steady himself, and for a moment, you wondered if he was nervous. But then, as the night wore on, you realized it wasn’t just nerves—it was something more, something deeper.

Megumi didn’t know how, but somehow, with you, everything felt easy. It felt easy to get lost in your eyes, to be drawn into the sound of your laughter that seemed to erase every worry from his mind. When he was with you, the weight he usually carried so heavily on his shoulders seemed to lift, replaced by the simple warmth of your presence. It was as if your very existence wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, making the world feel less daunting and more like a place where he could just be himself.

The conversation between you flowed effortlessly, each word building a bridge that drew you closer together. It was as if you were weaving a delicate thread between your hearts, a connection that grew stronger with every passing moment. Laughter punctuated the evening, light and genuine, and Megumi found himself smiling more than he had in a long time. The stories you shared felt like precious gifts, each one revealing a little more of who you were, peeling back the layers of the person he was growing to care for more deeply with each passing second.

And through it all, Megumi felt a sense of ease that was rare for him. It was easy to be with you, to let go of his guarded nature and simply enjoy the moment. He didn’t feel the need to put up walls or keep his distance. Instead, he allowed himself to be present, to savor the feeling of being close to you. Each glance, each shared smile, made him realize how much he had come to value these moments with you—moments that felt like they were meant to be, like they were part of something bigger, something that was just beginning to unfold.

“Remember that time Gojo-sensei tried to teach us how to cook?” you said, grinning as you recalled the chaotic kitchen scene.

Megumi chuckled, shaking his head. “How could I forget? He nearly burned down the entire place. I think that’s the last time we'll let him anywhere near a stove.”

“You looked so serious, trying to salvage the meal. It was adorable.” you teased, leaning in just a little closer. “I think I still have a picture from that night.”

He hesitated for a second, his usual calm demeanor faltering as a soft blush crept up his neck. “I was just trying to prevent a disaster.” he mumbled, but there was a shy smile on his lips. “And….can you share that picture with me?”

You grinned back at him. “Of course, Megumi. You can keep it in your wallet. And maybe you’ll think of me, hm?”

The moment you said that to him, it was almost automatic, the way he turned scarlet. You just have that way with him, a power that no one else can truly have. He lowered his face for a bit, as though trying to avoid you seeing how red he was. But he knew how obvious he was being. Hiding wasn’t going to work. But…he at least has to try. 

“......Okay.” He mumbled under his breath. 

You grinned even harder as his hands gripped the glass of wine and drank it swiftly. He was cute this way to you, you were sure. And by the way your eyes were following his every move, you were smitten with him as much as you think he is with you. Well, at least you hoped he was. 

As you continued talking, you noticed that maybe you were right with your theory—an unspoken tension that lingered in the air, almost tangible. It was in the way his beautiful blue–green eyes kept finding yours, lingering a bit too long, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face. And every time your gaze met, a flutter stirred in your chest, a warmth that spread through you like wildfire.

Megumi’s voice would occasionally falter when you leaned in closer, a slight quiver that betrayed the emotions simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re really good at this.” he said at one point, his tone softer than usual. “More than I thought before.”

“At what?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“Making me feel… comfortable.” he admitted, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment before he looked away, almost shyly.

A smile tugged at your lips. “I’m glad. I feel the same way with you.”

There was a pause, a brief moment where the weight of what was unspoken hung between you. Then, almost as if compelled by the invisible thread drawing you closer, Megumi leaned in slightly. His hand brushed against yours on the table, just a fleeting touch, but enough to send a spark through you. You lifted your gaze, looking at him as though he was the only one in the world.

“Is it just me, or does it feel like there’s something… different tonight?” you asked softly, testing the waters.

Megumi’s eyes flickered with something deeper, a mix of emotions that he had been trying to keep hidden. “It does.” he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. “It feels… important.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. The connection between you had always been there, but tonight, it was as if it had intensified, become something neither of you could ignore. It was a first date, to be sure. But you’ve known him for a long time, and you’ve liked him for a long time. And the more you think about his words, the more you think that he’s liked you longer than you thought. You purse your lips, letting your smile reign.

“You’re good at this,” you whispered to him, your voice soft and full of warmth.

Megumi raised a brow, his curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

“Making me feel good,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips as a blush, as vivid as a scarlet sunrise, bloomed on your cheeks.

Megumi’s eyes widened at your response, the sincerity in your words taking him by surprise. His heart began to beat wildly in his chest, each thump echoing the growing emotions he struggled to contain. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to respond, too caught up in the way you were looking at him, your expression filled with something that made him feel lighter than air.

“And that’s everything to me.” you added, your gaze unwavering as you spoke.

Those simple words struck him deeper than anything had in a long time. Megumi felt his heart swell with something indescribable—something that made him realize just how much you meant to him, and how much this moment meant to you both.

Megumi felt a rush of emotions flood through him, a mix of awe and disbelief at the way you looked at him—as if he was the only person in the world who could make you feel this way. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reminding him that this was real, that you were here with him, and that somehow, he had become someone important to you.

He took a slow, deep breath, trying to steady himself as he searched for the right words. “I… didn’t know,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know I could do that for you.”

“You do.” you assured him, your smile softening as you reached out to gently touch his hand. “You don’t even have to try. Just being with you makes me feel… safe, understood, happy.”

Megumi’s breath caught in his throat at your touch, the warmth of your hand sending a shiver down his spine. He felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of his emotions almost too much to bear. “You make me feel that way too,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a vulnerability he rarely showed. “I’ve never felt this way before… not with anyone else.”

You squeezed his hand gently, your eyes never leaving his. “That’s how I know it’s special, Megumi. What we have—it’s real.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to keep his emotions in check. But the way you looked at him, with such trust and affection, made it impossible to hold back. “I want to be that person for you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I want to make you feel good, to make you happy… because you mean everything to me too.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. Then, without thinking, Megumi leaned in closer, his heart racing as he let himself be guided by the pull he felt toward you. He hesitated for just a second, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was warmth and acceptance.

And in that moment, all the uncertainty, all the nerves, melted away. Megumi closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, hesitant kiss that held all the feelings he had been too afraid to express. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment, connected in a way that felt as natural as breathing.

When he finally pulled back, his heart was still pounding, but there was a new lightness in his chest, a sense of calm that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you,” he whispered, his forehead resting gently against yours. “For letting me be this close… for trusting me.”

You smiled, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, Megumi. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

And with those words, he knew—without a doubt—that this was the beginning of something extraordinary.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to say what I really feel.” he confessed, his eyes downcast. “I’m not good with words like Gojo or even Yuuji. But with you… it’s different. I want to try. I want to always make you happy. So, I just….”

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing against his hand. “You don’t have to be like them, Megumi. Just be yourself. That’s all I want.”

He looked up at you then, his gaze softening, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The warmth between you grew, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, and you felt a sense of belonging, a feeling that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

“You know, I’m not even drunk, but I feel like pretending I am.” He gave you a small, almost shy smile, the kind that made your heart skip a beat. “This….this feels crazy. Am I dreaming?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “And why would you want to pretend? And you aren’t dreaming. This is… this is real.”

“Maybe it’s easier to be a little more… honest that way.” he replied, his eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and something else, something darker, more intense. There was a brief moment where you thought you saw the hint of desire flicker in his gaze, but before you could say anything, he looked away, clearly embarrassed. 

“This is making my heart beat a lot. I’m sorry, if I get quiet,” Megumi said, his voice trembling slightly, his cheeks flushed a deep scarlet.

You blinked at his response, a soft laugh escaping your lips. The genuine, almost endearing awkwardness in his words made your heart swell. “I don’t mind,” you reassured him, your smile widening. “But… I just want to say, I’m really glad I can make you feel like this. It… it makes me happy.”

The sincerity in your voice seemed to wrap around Megumi like a warm embrace. He looked at you, his gaze softening as he took in your words. Your reassurance, your happiness at his nervousness, seemed to melt away his apprehensions. He felt a comforting warmth spread through him, a sense of relief and contentment that made him want to open up even more.

“I… You don’t have to worry about it,” Megumi continued, his voice growing steadier, though still tinged with emotion. “I… I only like you, okay? No one else.”

Your eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and delight crossing your face. Megumi’s confession, so simple and earnest, struck a chord deep within you. The fact that he was expressing his feelings so openly, despite his usual reserved nature, made your heart flutter.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. His declaration, so raw and genuine, held a weight that made you realize just how much this moment meant to both of you. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he was laying his emotions bare, and it made you feel incredibly special.

“Really?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you were afraid to break the delicate bubble of intimacy that surrounded you.

Megumi nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s just you. Only you.”

Your heart soared at his words, a warmth spreading through you that felt almost like a physical presence. You took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions that had taken over you. “That means so much to me, Megumi. I feel the same way. I… I only want to be with you.”

A smile slowly spread across Megumi’s face, a rare and genuine expression of happiness that lit up his features. The relief in his eyes was palpable, and for the first time, he allowed himself to fully embrace the joy of the moment.

He reached out, taking your hand in his with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet resolve. “It makes everything feel… right.”

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling the connection between you deepen. “Me too, Megumi. I’m really glad.”

The night seemed to wrap around you both like a warm, comforting embrace. The conversation flowed easily once more, but now it was colored by a new understanding, a shared feeling that made everything feel even more special. With every glance, every touch, the bond between you grew stronger, weaving together the threads of your hearts into something beautiful and lasting.

When you stepped outside the restaurant, the cool night air was a welcome change from the warmth inside. Megumi walked beside you, his hand brushing against yours occasionally, as if he was considering holding it but wasn’t sure if he should. The conversation had slowed, and now there was just the quiet sound of your footsteps and the distant hum of the city.

Finally, you reached your house. You turned to face him, expecting the usual awkward goodbye, but instead, you saw something different in his eyes—a determination, a resolve that hadn’t been there before. He took a deep breath, his hands hovering near your shoulders as if he was about to pull you close. You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the internal struggle playing out in his mind.

“I—” Megumi began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I’m really glad we did this. And I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time. I’m glad we managed to do it.”

“Me too.” You grinned back at him, your face tender with warmth for him. “I’m glad you asked me out, Megumi. This was amazing.”

He smiled back just as warmly. “Me too, I really am glad that I—”

But before Megumi could finish his sentence, his phone rang, the sound slicing through the moment like a sudden, jarring interruption. He winced, pulling it out of his pocket with an almost defeated sigh. The light from the screen illuminated his face, which fell as he saw the caller ID.

“It’s… it’s Gojo-sensei.” he said, his voice laced with frustration as he glanced at you with an apologetic look. “He’s asking when I’m coming back home.”

You tilted your head, puzzled by the sudden shift. “Gojo-sensei?” you repeated, trying to suppress a giggle. It seemed that Gojo had an uncanny knack for showing up just when things were getting interesting.

Megumi nodded, his expression a mix of irritation and resignation. “Yeah. I guess he must’ve known I was having a moment. He always seems to show up at the worst times.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Gojo’s impeccable timing. Despite the disappointment of the interrupted moment, you could see how much the evening had meant to Megumi. The mood had been perfect, and the sudden intrusion felt like a cruel twist of fate.

“Don’t worry about it.” you said softly, trying to lighten the mood. “We’ll just have to save the best parts for next time.”

Megumi looked at you, a mixture of frustration and affection in his eyes. “I really wanted to…”

“I know.” you interrupted gently, reaching out to touch his hand. “But we’ve had a wonderful evening, and there’s still so much more time ahead of us.”

He squeezed your hand, a small smile forming on his lips despite his disappointment. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess it’s just typical of Gojo to show up right when things are getting good.”

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “He definitely has a knack for that. But don’t let it ruin our night. We’ll just have to make the next one even better.”

Megumi’s gaze softened, his frustration melting away as he looked at you with a renewed sense of hope. “I’d really like that.”

He answered the call, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of annoyance as he spoke to Gojo. You watched as he dealt with the interruption, admiring how he managed to balance his irritation with the warmth he continued to show you.

As the call ended, Megumi pocketed his phone and turned back to you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well, it looks like I’m going to have to head back soon. But I want you to know… tonight has been incredible. I really appreciate your understanding.”

You smiled back at him, your heart feeling lighter despite the sudden end to the evening. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.”

He reached out and gently cupped your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “I feel the same way. And I promise, next time, I’ll make sure nothing gets in the way.”

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m looking forward to it.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss to Megumi’s cheek—a simple gesture, but one that seemed to catch him completely off guard. His eyes widened slightly, and he stood there momentarily frozen, as if trying to fully comprehend the warmth of your lips against his skin. The blush on your cheeks mirrored the deep crimson that had spread across his face, and the way he remained still, caught in the aftermath of the kiss, spoke volumes about the impact of that brief, intimate touch.

As you pulled back, your eyes met his with a proud, affectionate smile. The way his posture remained rigid, his gaze lingering on you, highlighted just how deeply your kiss had affected him. It was clear that the warmth of your gesture had left a lasting impression, one that would linger long after you had gone.

“Goodnight, Megumi,” you whispered softly, your voice carrying a note of sweetness as you clutched your bag. The words felt like a promise and a gentle farewell, your smile reflecting the happiness you felt in the moment. “I’ll… I’ll see you around!”

Megumi’s reply came, his voice low and almost wistful, as if he were savoring the final moments of your time together. “Good night.” he said, his tone tinged with a mixture of reluctance and tenderness as you turned to leave.

You glanced back at him one last time before getting into your cab, the evening air cool against your skin as the door closed behind you. As the cab pulled away, you could see Megumi standing there, his gaze fixed on the retreating vehicle, a look of both longing and contentment in his eyes.

Inside the cab, you felt a flutter of excitement and warmth in your chest, a reflection of the connection you had shared. The memory of his surprised reaction, his blush, and the quiet intimacy of the evening would linger with you, a cherished reminder of the bond you were building together.

Megumi, still standing on the curb, felt the lingering touch of your kiss on his cheek, a gentle reminder of the special night you had shared. As the cab disappeared from view, he took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of wistfulness and anticipation. He knew that this evening was just the beginning of something meaningful, and as he turned to head back home, he carried with him the warmth of your smile and the promise of more moments to come.

When Megumi arrived home, the familiar comfort of his apartment greeted him. He closed the door behind him, his mind still drifting back to the evening’s events. The soft warmth of your kiss on his cheek lingered like a gentle, pleasant ache, making it hard for him to focus on anything else.

Gojo, lounging casually on the couch and flipping through a magazine, looked up as the door opened. His eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and amusement as he took in Megumi’s slightly distracted state. 

“Hey, Megumi!” Gojo called out, his tone light and teasing. “How was your—”

But Megumi barely registered the question. His thoughts were still wrapped around the soft press of your lips against his skin, the way your smile had felt like a promise. He was caught in a reverie, his hand absentmindedly touching the spot on his cheek where you had kissed him.

Gojo’s brows furrowed slightly as he observed Megumi’s distant expression. “Hey, Earth to Megumi!” he said, raising his voice a notch to grab his attention. “Are you even listening?”

Startled, Megumi blinked, slowly pulling himself out of his thoughts. He turned to look at Gojo, his expression a mix of confusion and bemusement. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was… just thinking.”

Gojo arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thinking, huh? You look like you’re in a daze. Did something happen?”

For a moment, Megumi was too wrapped up in the lingering sensations of the evening to fully process Gojo’s question. He simply shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It was a good night. Really good.”

Gojo eyed him critically, clearly not buying the vague response. “A good night, huh? So, what’s with the goofy grin and the dazed look? Did something happen with your ‘good night’?”

Megumi’s blush deepened, though he tried to hide it by looking away. “Nothing. Just… had a nice time. It’s nothing.”

Gojo’s curiosity was piqued. He walked over, leaning casually against the wall with a knowing grin. “Nice time, huh? So nice that you’re practically glowing. Spill it, Megumi.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this easily, Megumi sighed, still feeling the warmth from your kiss. “It’s just… there was this moment,” he said, his voice soft. “It was… really special. I didn’t expect it.”

Gojo’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting. “A moment, huh? Sounds like someone’s got it bad. I’m guessing it was someone special?”

Megumi didn’t meet his gaze, instead focusing on the floor. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Gojo chuckled, clearly delighted by Megumi’s apparent infatuation. “Well, I’m glad to see you so happy. Even if you’re too distracted to notice my wonderful company.”

Megumi finally looked up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry about that. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Gojo’s teasing expression softened slightly as he clapped Megumi on the back. “It’s fine. Enjoy the moment. And remember, when you’re ready to come back to reality, I’ll be here to remind you how to interact with the rest of the world.”

Megumi nodded, still lost in his own thoughts as he headed to his room. He appreciated Gojo’s understanding, even if he was more focused on the sweet memory of your kiss. As he settled into bed, the warmth of your touch and the promise of more moments like this kept a contented smile on his face, making it clear that tonight had been more than just a good night—it had been the beginning of something truly special.

When Megumi finally made it to his room, he collapsed onto his bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling as if seeking answers from the blank expanse above him. The soft rustle of the blankets beneath him was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

He groaned, kicking his feet against the blankets in a frustrated display of pent-up energy. “It was so good.” he muttered to himself, his voice muffled as he buried his face in his hands.

The memory of your kiss, the warmth of your presence, and the way you had looked at him—all of it replayed in his mind, mingling with the sting of the missed opportunity.

For a moment, he allowed himself to wallow in the frustration, the feeling of having the perfect evening cut short gnawing at him. But as he lay there, the initial disappointment began to fade, replaced by a quiet, simmering determination.

He turned onto his side, gazing at the dimly lit room with a newfound resolve. The evening had been everything he had hoped for and more, and though it hadn't gone exactly as planned, it had shown him something important. There would be another date, another chance to savor the moments he had missed tonight. And next time, he was determined to make it perfect, to not let anything—or anyone—interfere.

A soft smile touched his lips as he imagined what could be. He pictured another evening, where he wouldn’t have to worry about interruptions, where he could focus entirely on you and the connection you shared. The thought filled him with a sense of anticipation, a promise of something even better to come.

Megumi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his frustrations lift as he embraced the positive outlook.

“I’ll make sure of it.” he said softly, to no one in particular, as he closed his eyes and let himself drift into a hopeful sleep.

The night had ended with an unfulfilled promise, but it had also planted the seeds for something even more meaningful. As he sank into the comforting embrace of his bed, the thought of you and the evening to come filled him with a quiet, hopeful excitement, making the future seem brighter and full of possibilities. Nothing was impossible with love, right?

________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

✧. ┊         

⋆ ★

epilogue 

The sun was setting over Tokyo, casting a warm glow through the windows of the Jujutsu High lounge. Genmei and Satoru were lounging on the sofas, sipping on their drinks and chatting about the recent happenings in their lives. The atmosphere was casual, with Satoru’s usual exuberance tempered by a rare, relaxed demeanor.

“You know…..” Genmei began, looking thoughtful, “I’ve noticed that Megumi’s been a lot happier lately. It’s like there’s a spring in his step that wasn’t there before.”

Satoru’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Really? I haven’t seen him smile this much since… ever. What’s the secret?”

Genmei leaned in with a mischievous smile. “Well….something pretty significant event happened recently. I heard in the grapevine that our little Megumi’s gotten a kiss!”

Satoru nearly choked on his drink, cerulean eyes bulging as he set the glass down with a clatter. “He did what?!” he exclaimed, his excitement palpable. “And you’re telling me this now? What happened?”

Genmei chuckled, enjoying the reaction. “Apparently, things went quite well. And, then boom! A kiss!”

Satoru’s face lit up with wild enthusiasm. “A kiss?! Oh man, you’ve got to be kidding me. I can’t believe it.He didn’t tell me! That kid! So, what kind of kiss are we talking about here? A peck on the cheek, or—”

“Just a simple kiss on the cheek, Satoru.” Genmei said, holding up a hand to indicate the gentle nature of the gesture. “But it seems it made quite an impression.”

Satoru’s excitement was infectious. “No way! A cheek kiss making him this happy? Megumi, of all people, is floating on cloud nine over a cheek kiss! I’m going to have to get the details from him myself.”

“Satoru, you’re acting like you weren’t the same way when I kissed your cheek the first time.”

“Uh, that’s not the point—”

Just as Satoru’s animated commentary reached its peak, Megumi happened to walk by the lounge, catching the tail end of the conversation. The mention of a “cheek kiss” made his ears turn a shade of red as he froze in place, his eyes widening in embarrassment.

“What are you guys talking about?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

Satoru turned, his grin stretching wider as he saw Megumi standing there. “Oh, Megumi! We were just discussing how you’ve been a lot happier lately. Seems like the cheek kiss you got has had quite the impact!”

Megumi’s face flushed even deeper, and he stammered, “W-wait, you heard that? Who told you? Ah, this is…..”

Genmei stifled a laugh while Satoru’s eyes sparkled with mischievous delight. “Yep, we heard it all! And I have to say, it’s good to see you so happy. It’s like you’ve been reborn or something.”

Megumi’s embarrassment was palpable as he tried to hide his face. “Can we not talk about this? It’s… it’s not a big deal.”

Satoru’s laughter rang out, echoing through the room. “Oh, come on, Megumi! It’s adorable. It’s like watching you grow up right before our eyes.  And hey, if a cheek kiss is what makes you this happy, maybe I should start giving out kisses too!”

“Please don’t do that, Satoru.”

“But wifey!”

“Don’t wifey me. Satoshi would say the same thing.”

“Lies, Satoshi would love his papa’s cheek kisses.”

“Hm, we’ll see what he says when he comes from my mother’s house.”

Megumi groaned, sinking into a nearby chair, hiding his face in his hands. “I swear, if you don’t stop, I’m going to find a way to make sure you never hear about my personal life again.”

Genmei chuckled softly, patting Megumi on the back. “Don’t worry, Megumi. We’re just happy for you. It’s nice to see you smiling for a change.”

As the laughter subsided, Satoru threw an arm around Megumi’s shoulders in a rare display of affection. “Seriously, though, I’m proud of you. Even if it took a cheek kiss to get you to loosen up a bit.”

Megumi gave a reluctant smile, finally lifting his head to meet their eyes. “Thanks, I guess. And… just keep this between us, alright?”

Satoru’s grin softened to a more genuine smile. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m always here if you need to talk about anything.”

Megumi had just shrugged off Satoru’s latest comment with a hint of sarcasm. “No, I think Gen–san’s better with this sort of thing.” he said, nodding towards Genmei.

Genmei’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “A–ha! In your face!” Genmei declared triumphantly, savoring the moment of victory.

Satoru, always the dramatist, threw his hands up in mock despair. “GAH!? Megumi, you tear your father’s heart!” he exclaimed, his tone laden with exaggerated sorrow.

Megumi rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re not my dad, Gojo–sensei” he retorted, clearly amused despite himself.

Satoru gasped theatrically, clutching his chest as if wounded. “HUH!? Wifey, our son hates me!” he cried out in a tone so over-the-top that it had both Genmei and Megumi laughing.

Genmei sighed, a playful exasperated voice echoes, “What a life to live.”

The playful back-and-forth continued, each remark adding to the tapestry of their lighthearted dynamic. Fushiguro Megumi, despite his earlier embarrassment, found himself caught up in the laughter, the tension of the day melting away under the warmth of their happy home.

[awearywritersworld]

i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

[astrxealis]

i talk and post and reblog a lot of final fantasy xiv/14 in the hopes of attracting fellow ffxiv fans and also to hopefully influence those who do not know ffxiv to get into it ✊✨

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS

The finale!

Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.

Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.

This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.

I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.

There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.

This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.

The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.

It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.

The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.

Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.

The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.

I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.

Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.

Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.

This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)

Some kind of Jake universe.

A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.

The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.

This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.

Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.

She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.

Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.

There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.

Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.

Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.

In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.

And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...

[obsessedwithceleste]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Dedicated to this lil request here 🫶🏽

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It’s no secret that Theodore Nott had a rough childhood

Between witnessing his mother’s death at a young age and having a particularly ruthless father, Theo learned to be quietly reserved early on

1000% Theo is an introvert

Despite being seemingly closed off, he’s extremely observant and good at reading others and picking up on things quickly

While he may not be the best at deciphering his own emotions, he’s able to sort through others’ easily

This makes it easy for him to be rather manipulative because he knows what makes other’s tick and how to go straight for the jugular

He may be distant and off putting in the beginning, but once you get close, he’s a clingy bastard because he doesn’t let many people get close, so once you make it there he’ll basically hold you captive forever

He’s also stupid smart

(Canonically he’s able to re-create an illegal time turner after they were all destroyed in the department of mysteries so//)

And this makes him a bit of an arrogant asshole

Looks down on people he thinks aren’t as smart as him

He definitely thinks that he knows best and can have a “my way or the highway” type mindset

Probably has some type of gifted kid™️ trauma and a crippling fear of failure

Anyway, he’s super intelligent and witty and has the potential to do really well in classes

But he has a nasty habit off skiving off with Mattheo Riddle

Who happens to be his best friend along with Lorenzo Berkshire

A lot of people think Theo is the “mother” of the group, or at least the one with the most impulse control

They’re wrong

Theo is the one that Mattheo goes to with his dumbass ideas and Theo’s response is generally something along the lines of-

“Absolutely not you tosser. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right”

Queue Mattheo’s initial plan- only methodically planned out to cause maximal amounts of emotional trauma for the Hogwarts population

Theo and Mattheo are also a chaotic duo on the quidditch pitch

Theo is a chaser

Making the quidditch team in his third year is one of the only times his father showed a hint of satisfaction with the boy

Being on the Slytherin quidditch team, he’s often labeled a preppy jock

And Mattheo does help him break out of his shell more

But he’s a nerdy lil book worm at heart and likes to be holed up in the library most days

Theo also has quite the reputation of being a ladies man with rumors about his escapades swarming the student body

But really they’re just that- rumors

Lorenzo is more of the openly flirtatious pretty boy, and Mattheo certainly knows how to make his way around which is perhaps why people think Theo would be the same way

But he isn’t one to really form physical attachments- emotional or not

He prefers to fly under the radar

He may have had a fling or two, but isn’t one to kiss and tell

He has a hard time entering a real relationship

Mostly because when he first realizes he’s caught feelings, he’s convinced he’s actually just ill and stays in bed pretending to be sick

But once he comes to terms with things, he’s one determined wizard

Makes sure everyone knows that you’re off limits (possibly before you know yourself)

Definitely goes to Enzo for advice on how to woo you

With varying degrees of success

King of subtle PDA (just enough to mark his territory)

Confident and secure in his relationship, but also still jealous as hell

Will hex the living shit out of someone for breathing at you the wrong way

Finds it amusing when you get jealous though

But will shut it the fuck down as soon as he picks up on you being actually upset (probably embarrassing whoever it is in the process)

Not always the best at communicating his feeling cause he’s emotionally constipated af

But tries because he knows he doesn’t want a relationship like his parent’s

Okayyy I think that’s all for now, but I have a feeling these will grow and evolve with time sooo- ongoing (?) idk

[theyanderespecialist]

Yandere Alastor X Pregnant Reader (Headcanons) Alastor's Baby Mama (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another update! This one is with Alastor being yandere for his pregnant listener, and headcanons he would be like in this situation, anyways I hope you all enjoy this chapter here, all my sexy muffins!]

(Disclaimer: Alastor is Not Yandere In Canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE YOU FLAKY BISCUITS! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon, thank you!!!)

-Yandere Headcanons With Alastor X Pregnant Listener from Hazbin Hotel-

.Alastor would not be the best dad, in canon Viv has said he would not be against smacking around his kids (REMEMBER HE WAS IN HIS 30s IN THE 1930s HE IS BEYOND BOOMER) 

.He would of course raise his child that was defenseless and needed him. 

.But if his child who is able to "take care" of himself were to get hurt he would find it a bit funny (like in America funniest home videos) 

.Of course, that is when the kids are kids, but what about his pregnant wife? 

.Alastor is Asexual and in hell and thought he could not have kids. 

.Somehow in one of the times he made love to you his partner you had got pregnant. 

.He was a bit in shock, his microphone putting out radio static and him going "Say what now?" 

.How did it happen, why did it happen? 

.Of course, he is yandere for you and would very much want to take it to the next step with you. 

.So if you are not married to him at this point he will propose as he is doing the right thing and will make an honest woman out out of you. 

.Also with his old-time mind set he would say. "I am not going to let my child be a bastard." (Born out of Wedlock) 

.He is not giving you a choice, you are going to be his wife and bound to him, so yeah, good luck with that, lmao. 

.He becomes even more protective of you, realizing that now that you are pregnant you have a target on your back from all his enemies. 

.So he would steal you away and keep you by his side, If you want to leave the hotel, then you will have to be with him and maybe even husk. 

.If not you will be in the hotel and Husk and Niffty will be keeping a close eye on you. 

.He would even reel Charlie and Vaggie into this and use them to keep you safe and sound as well. 

.You are a prisoner to your husband and he is keeping you in this gilded cage. 

.He would of course give you everything you want and need. Except for your freedom of course. 

.Why would you need freedom when you have him, and your future children? 

.He is 1000 percent the type of man who wants his wife at home, pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen. 

.He at first did not want kids but seeing you pregnant has flipped something in him. 

.It mainly has to do with his narcissistic traits, as he will see this child as an extension of himself and their accomplishments will be his as well. 

.So that is nice, but also his yandere side likes seeing you swell with his seed. 

.That pregnant belly, widening hips, and full breasts are signs that you are with HIS Child, that HIS seed has done something to you. 

.This makes him excited in more ways than one because it is a way he can control and manipulate you, and keep you by his side. 

.But it also puts him in la mood because it shows him that you are his and his alone! 

.That you being full with his child is proof you belong to him the radio demon. 

.He would still deal with rivals by killing them and broadcasting their screams across hell. 

.He would be fiercely overprotective possessive and jealous. 

.NO ONE ELSE CAN touch the belly bump, that is HIS Belly bump. 

.He also sleeps with you in his arms a lot now, if you somehow get out of them to get a glass of water and he wakes up without you there. 

.He will appear behind you, snatch you, and teleport through shadows back to the room, place you back in bed where you belong. 

.No midnight snacking for you, unless you ask him first. 

.He is very attentive to all your needs when pregnant and also is a bit more in the mood sex. 

(as asexual can be aroused and horny and have a high libido and CHOOSE To have sex, Asexuality is about Lack of Sexual Attraction NOT The Lack of the Act of Sex itself) 

.So when you get to the want to have sex stage of the pregnancy he is more than willing to satisfy your needs. 

.You have unlocked a beastly side of Alastor good luck. 

.Oh and 1 million percent he would feed you venison and other demon meats while pregnant. 

.He wants to make sure you have a very healthy cannibal diet for you and his spawn. 

.He takes care of you at least, but he does need to be taught more modern ways on raising a child FR FR. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy all of my sexy muffins!] 

[nqueso-emergency]

i am BEGGING them to stop pretending buck is stupid. please. at this point you are creating a caricature of him.

Buck sometimes plays the part of an oblivious or comedic guy, but it is not as often as people like to make it be, and 99% of the time is to create a comedic moment. a lot of these moments also come from his lack of popular culture knowledge, which can easily be attributed to a sheltered childhood, and not lack of intelligence.

buck IS smart, and i will die on this hill. not only because you have to be in the job they work, but also because we’ve seen it! he’s shown to have an ever-present curiosity, to read and learn about stuff quick, and to have really quick thinking skills.

he’s, also, been on his own since he was really young. he left home at an early age and had no one to back fall on, not really. he depended solely on himself, and he did good. he managed to create a great life for himself way before maddie or his parents were present in his life again (and his parents still have no influence over that, i’d argue).

buck has been shown to be in touch with his feelings often. we have not seen him be confused about them ONCE. acting impulsively because of them, yes. but he’s a character that has always know how he’s felt and has been okay-ish at processing it (exceptional occasions contradicting this notwithstanding).

so. why would it ever make sense for him to now be completely oblivious about his own feelings? make it make sense.

yes. he had yet to realize he’s bi. that is NOT because he’s stupid, but because he’s such an open person that finding someone attractive has not registered in his brain as him being attracted to more than one gender. we know he appreciates beauty (in canon!) and he’s shown to not be a prejudiced character, so it completely makes sense for him not to notice anything out of the blue.

the moment he realizes those feelings are not universal, he’s quick to process them and figure himself out. because, again, he’s a character that is in touch with himself and his feelings, and, please bestie boos, remember this: he is highly emotionally intelligent.

also they should rewatch 705. because that was the episode he had to process his feelings, and guess what? he did! and he reached the conclusion he has feelings for tommy. so he reached out to him again, because he has feelings for him. not for eddie. for tommy.

buck is smart. let him be smart.

also this is reason 1000 why i will always say their version of buddie is 85% fabricated.

Marry me... I'm sorry that was forward... but like I love you and this ask.

[jedi-enthusiast]

I still find it funny as i get older that the jedi took down one slaving and monstrous empire

And it wasnt enough

The remnants of that same empire apparently had all the time to demolish slavery themselves both in legends and canon and never got to it as soon they got back to power but they didn’t why?

The remnents strangely find supporters outside of their galaxy too

Yeah, the fact that the Jedi already took down the Zygerrian Empire and yet people jump on their asses for "not stopping slavery," like...my dudes they literally took down a slaver empire and eradicated slavery in the Republic, what else do you want them to do?

They can't take down slavery outside of the Republic because it's not their jurisdiction and therefore they wouldn't have the support of the Republic, which they would need in order to both take down other slaver empires and then make sure that another group of slavers doesn't just re-capture the people and start another slave trade.

Without Republic support, the Jedi can't fight slavery in any way that would be effective---which, hilariously, seems to be the point that anti-Jedi morons are dedicated to ignoring! The Senate needs to decide to take out slavery in the Outer Rim in order for the Jedi to be able to help because, ultimately, it's going to be the Republic that keeps the slavery from coming back NOT the Jedi, simply because the Jedi don't have enough people, time, or resources to do it on their own.

Not to mention that, even IF the Jedi could theoretically eradicate slavery by themselves, what happens to all the other people and causes that they can't help now because 100% of their people/energy is focused on making sure slavery doesn't make a comeback??? Because the Republic isn't helping the Jedi eradicate slavery in this scenario, and the people that the Republic would usually send to help those in need are currently eradicating slavery.

Trick question, anti-Jedi idiots would still be pissed at them for not helping everyone else while they're busy taking down more slaving empires.

It's ridiculous, especially considering that they don't put the same level of blame on the Senate or all the planets in the Republic---who have plenty of time, resources, and would have enough man-power if they worked together---that they put on the Jedi---the small community or religious warrior-monks who are juggling like 1000 different problems at once.

Like dude.

What the fuck?

[queers-gambit]

Fine Line

prompt: ( requested ) going after the same silver briefcase, you and Tangerine exchange more than a few blows. pun intended.

pairing: Tangerine x female!assassin!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 5.2k+

note: got a little outside my comfort zone with this one, so, hopefully it's not 1000% trash but you've been warned now.

warnings: codename "Peach", basically the request with a FEW tweaks here and there, so, some spoilers, cursing, (shitty) slutty smut [spitting, squirting, mean!Tan, PIV, male receiving oral, degrading behavior, talk of tops and bottoms], Tan is a switch i do not care, is this enemies to lovers? yes. depiction of canon-typical physical violence, blood, injury.

There was a fine line between love and hate.

You love your family, but God Almighty, did you hate their behavior in most public settings. You love homemade cake, but hate the entire baking process, especially the dishes. You love getting your nails done and feeling pampered, but hate sitting still in one place for that amount of time.

And you love getting fucked, but hate dealing with people.

The whole meeting someone, getting to know them, getting to a place of comfort to bring them home. It was a hassle, it was annoying to you; akin to an inconvenience and disruption. You didn't mind Tinder, actually - thinking of it as "Dick on Demand", never really needing the awkward stages of acquaintanceship. You didn't like going out places "to meet people", too busy with your work to truly put forth effort. Plus, your job didn't exactly allow for romantic entanglements to become knots; you had to keep loose and available.

This is what made your job ideal: it was remote, kept you busy, on the move, without the weight of baggage attached to people. Plus, it didn't give time nor room for anyone to become attached to you - something that always made you impossibly uncomfortable. A job such as this made life impossibly lonely, but you operated better this way - without anyone needing you, worrying about you, keeping tabs, being in your business. You liked being on your own, it was just easier. It made sense. There was logic behind it.

Didn't mean you were 100% alone, however. You had "coworkers"... Sorta. You had employers, though you were unsure where exactly they were stationed. You, yourself, resided mostly in London, but operated globally, wherever you were needed - or more like wherever you were sent to. These "coworkers" of yours had similar jobs, and while you hated putting a label on basically anything, in laymen's terms, you were a contract killer. Those you interacted with, typically, were other contract killers - but usually working different jobs.

Rarely were multiples from the same organization sent on the same job, yet it still happened.

On the off chance, you encountered a few individuals that were employed by other organizations; making them rivals instead of coworkers.

You were unsure which this all was yet...

You had been contracted by an invisible, anonymous employer to retrieve a silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle, your handler encouraging you to get off the bullet train the moment it was in your possession. But there was a problem: you weren't the only one working this case, if the Ladybug twat and Twins was any indication.

When you located the case, you were instantly engaged by the blonde man with thick, black framed glasses; honestly getting the shit kicked out of you.

Currently, you were in possession of the case, but that was sure to change since it had already switched hands multiple times that chaotic night. You had come to a skidding halt, panting heavily, bent over on your knees in a vacant first class train car after escaping (momentarily) from Ladybug. Spitting blood from your mouth, you dialed your handler with shaking fingers; heaving a deep sniffle.

"You still alive?"

"I'll fuckin' choke you myself, Susan, I swear t'God," you groaned, sliding to the ground in exhaustion; wiping the trail of blood from your nose with a grimace.

Susan chuckled, "What's happening, honey girl?"

"Y-You didn't tell me I wasn't the only one workin' this!"

"Well, I heard rumor the Twins might be on the same case, but you usually beat them to the punch, don't you?"

"Yeah, but not this time," you winced.

"I'm sure Tangerine was happy to see you," you could hear her grin.

"Fuck off."

"He's into you, you know."

"The man snapped my tibia, punctured my kidney, and broke my nose - don't think that constitutes as anything romantic."

"Oh, you're into it," she laughed. "And don't act as if he ever walked away, scot free. If I remember correctly, you've shanked him twice?"

"He deserved it," you coughed. "Listen, fuck Tangerine - "

"I know you want to."

"Susan! Fuckin' listen to me!" You snarled. "They're not alone - there's another guy. For fuck's sake, Susan, I just got my arse kicked by a dude with a manbun!"

"Another guy? With a manbun? They're still in style?"

"Oh, my God - does it even mat - YES, they're always in style. Listen, this guy goes by the name Ladybug. Who do we know that uses codenames like that? What org?"

"Hmm," Susan thought aloud.

"What?" You spat blood from your mouth again, licking at the split lip.

"Could be KBS? They use animal codenames on rotation."

"Fuck all," you groaned. "Well, Mr. Ladybug can throw a fuckin' punch. Think he cracked a rib. But you know what? He's handsome. Almost feel bad for knockin' his lights out."

"Where are you?"

You looked around, "Emotionally? Physically?"

"You know what I mean, Peach. Where's the case?"

"With me," you assured, "uh, and I, uh... I'm not 100% where I am, I missed a couple stops fightin' these dumbfucks. Might be four stops from Kyoto? Five?"

"Get off before the end of the line," Susan warned. "At this point, I don't care if you have the case or not."

"Wait... Susan, what's that mean?"

She paused and sighed deeply, "All right, fine, time to get serious. Some intel came in, Peach... And the White Death bought out the train until the end of the line. I actually care about your safety and this just screams danger, so, get off before Kyoto, Peach, my girl. Hear me?"

"I hear you, mamas," you agreed. "I'll get off next... Stop... Oh, you've got t'be joking! Fuck me!"

"Gladly," Tangerine smirked and jokingly reached for his belt with perked brows, standing in the automatic doorway; looking beat to hell, similar to you.

You glared at him and offered your middle finger, his hands dropping as he surveyed the train car.

"Peach?"

"I'll call you back, Susan," you deflected into the phone, quickly hanging up and deflating. "Jesus fuck, look, I'm really not in the mood, Tan. Can we just make this quick? The fuck you want?"

"Do I look like I'm here t'play fuckin' games, Peach?" Tangerine asked, stalking slowly towards where you were slumped in the aisle, mid-train car, while dripping in his own blood.

"Still look like a clown t'me," you quipped. "I'll ask again: the fuck you want, Tangerine?"

"Gonna need that case, sweet peach."

You scoffed. "Seriously? You're after it, too?"

"'Fraid so."

"How many of us are on assignment? For this one fuckin' case?" You snipped, kicking the case a little.

"You look like you've seen the Ladybug fucker, haven't yah, doll?"

"He with you?"

"Fuck no."

"Where's Lemon, then?"

"Few back," He gestured back over his shoulder, pausing when you got to your feet. "C'mon, love, don't do this," He warned, mustache curling as his lip did. There was a deranged look in his eye, something stirring in your gut; seeing the shine of tears never shed, the anger, a high-strung energy filling the space around you.

"I just want off this train, Tan," you begged quietly. "Look, call it whatever you want, but something else is goin' on here - shit ain't right. Be honest, how much more difficult has tonight been? Why have we all been sent after the same briefcase? When it's supposed to just be a fucking grab job?"

Tangerine cocked his head, "Nah, no, we're on delivery."

"What?"

"Yeah, supposed t'deliver this kid and the case t'his father in Kyoto," his brows knit together.

You scolded, "You dumb fuckin' idiot!"

"I beg your pardon, sweetheart?" He leered, stepping another step closer; knotting your stomach.

"You workin' for the White Death?"

"How'd you - "

"Susan got intel, said he bought out the train, Tan. Fuck's really goin' on?"

Tangerine's jaw flexed, sighing through his nose, "Guess cat's out the bag now, innit? Yeah," he sighed, shrugging a bit, "we're doin' this job for him."

"Which means he's gonna kill us at the end of the line - why else ensure there's no other witnesses?" There was a long pause, both staring into each other's eyes without shifting attention. You shrugged and whispered, "You know, we could just jump off the bloody train. Grab Lem, get off the train before Kyoto, just fuckin' go."

"Who gets the case?"

"Where's the kid you've gotta deliver?"

"Dead - murdered, actually."

"Then you're already fucked and your job's done," you shrugged, "so, I keep the case and we all three keep our lives."

Tan sighed through his nose, offering, "You drive a temptin' bargain, love. Always enjoy our li'l run-ins," his hand extended to rest on your waist, freezing time. "But I can't walk away without that case. Lemon's down, he's been drugged, so, trust me, I'm all for just jumpin' ship, but I need the case, darlin'."

"So do I, I have somewhere else to deliver it."

"Then we have ourselves a Mexican Standoff, then, yeah?"

"No, that'd require a third."

"Kinky, but I prefer t'keep things between us, wouldn't you?" He purred against your lips, not quite kissing you as his hand tightened over bruised skin.

"Tan, don't do this," you breathed in the space between you.

"For whatever it's worth, I do usually feel bad after kickin' your arse - though, I'd much rather prefer t'kiss it."

"We can arrange that later," you smiled prettily, surging forward to kiss him fully. It was sweaty, cruel, bloody, and rough - everything you knew Tangerine to be. Yet right when he seemed entranced enough, both his hands caging your hips to his, you bit his lip in time to bring your knee up into his groin.

It sparked your fight, both exchanging blows without hesitation. You could feel your adrenaline propelling you, but it was quickly dwindling as Tangerine seemed renewed and invigorated by your fight. You, however, fought dirty; you had to - you had no other choice. He was physically bigger, stronger, but you were faster, and dare you say it, smarter. You didn't need integrity when defending yourself, easily using Tan's strength against him to add to the collect of bruises, cuts, and blood smears. But he still managed to manhandle you, sending you careening into empty seats and giving you whiplash.

You managed to swing on his back, preventing him from reaching his gun; legs coiling around his arms and flexing your abs to yank backwards. You grunted when you hit an empty bench, his head bouncing between your breasts; holding him hostage for a brief moment before you felt his hands grip your thighs in an innocently provocative way.

The moan from your lungs was unintentional, Tan flipping you both so you were on your stomach; him hovering over your back with a grunt. But there was a familiar feeling pressed into your bottom, head lifting slightly to struggle under Tangerine's grip; his reaction being exactly what you wanted as he pressed further into you.

"Just - fucking stay still!" He barked, trying to pin your hands behind you.

"Oh, you'd like that, huh?" You snapped, still struggling. "Some submissive li'l bitch?"

"Oh, darlin', I love me a top," he growled in your ear, grinding his swelling cock further into your ample arse cheeks, "but only good girls are so lucky. But don't worry," he chuckled, "I usually have cuffs on me for the bad girls, hey?"

"Fuck off, Tan, get off," you grunted, wriggling; grinding your hips up into him to try and dislodge him. He breathed deeper, and your mind played tricks on you because you swore you felt him grind back.

"I quite like this position, though, love."

"Thought you liked a top?"

"Doesn't mean I can't enjoy my own moments, huh? And you seem like you're far too used t'gettin' your way."

"So, which is it, then? You wanna fuck me or get fucked by me?"

"That an earnest question?"

You paused, "If it means I get the case, fuck yeah."

"That's not what it means, doll, but if what Susan says is true..." He nuzzled your neck briefly, lips ghosting your ear, mustache tickling your skin as he finished, "Might not get another chance."

You know he loosened his grip to let your arms snap back under you; groaning in relief. After panting for a moment, you lifted your head again, feeling his cheek brush yours and pausing to relish in the oddly intimate position. "We can always get the fuck off this train? Find a hotel in a nearby city?" You offered. "Can get me all night if you play your cards right."

"Know I can't, sweet peach," he whispered.

"Then why waste more time?" You mused, hissing when his mouth instantly fell to your neck in an open kiss that scraped his teeth into your soft flesh. "Hey - no! No ti-ime," your word hitched when he licked the sensitive skin in-sync with a roll of his hips, thrusting his hardening cock into the crease of your cheeks; making your spine shudder when his teeth scraped again.

"We got a li'l time," he promised. "Enough for a taste? You as sweet as your name, baby? Huh?"

"Tan, oh, my God," you breathed in disbelief when he reared back and manhandled you so he could unlatch the buckle of your belt and start shucking the material from your hips. "What if someone - "

"Shut up," he snapped, freeing your thighs. "Got me too fuckin' worked up t'worry 'bout someone walkin' in, yeah? Both know what's waitin' for us, don't we?"

"The White Death," you felt him yank your pants to your ankles and then shove your shoes off, pants following to the floor. "Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he roughly fingered your slit over your newly exposed panties, hearing his belt buckle jingle.

"Oi, no - "

"Fuck off," you snapped when you turned over suddenly, forcing him to pull back and glare, "I wanna watch - might as well give me a show, right? Since you're 'bouta get us all killed?"

He scoffed, "You're gettin' off the train, darlin', you're not meetin' the White Death tonight."

"Damn straight," you hooked your panties with your thumbs, lifting your hips, yanking the garment down as Tangerine continued to unlatch his belt, peel down his zipper, then pull both his boxers and trousers down in one motion.

"This isn't gonna be soft and sweet, love," he warned, standing over you on the train seat; pumping his cock to full mast while never lifting his eyes from you. "I've wanted you longer than I'll ever admit, I've got some ideas."

Your eyes rolled and fingers skated down your dampening cunt, "You're on a time schedule, maybe shut the fuck up and just fuck me already?"

He scoffed, lowering himself over you and making you gulp in anticipation; hands gravitating to his blackened waist. "You sure got a fuckin' mouth on you, don't'cha? That's all right, doll, I got somethin' for yah." His hand rose to pop a few buttons on your blouse, exposing your bra, asking, "You got a safe word?"

"Tangerine."

"Hmm? What?"

"No, that's my safe word."

"You fuckin' shithead," he hissed over your mouth, lips parting in a silent gasp when his hot cock dropped over your cunt in a tantalizing tease. "Be serious for once, yeah?"

You shrugged, "How's about 'pineapple', or is that one of your buddies names?"

"Pineapple it is," he grumbled, descending to your lips in a searing kiss that stole your breath and made your nails curl into his flesh. But a whimper emitted when he pulled back suddenly, standing over you, and moving towards your head. "Open," he demanded, holding his cockhead at your lips. "Don't give me shit about time, you need t'learn. Open your mouth."

You obediently opened your lips and Tan wasted no time in thrusting himself into your mouth; not too deep, not too rough, but enough to make you inhale sharply and readjust your position. Your one hand pumped what couldn't fit in your mouth, the other holding his thigh for balance; choking from the awkward position, but it made Tan smirk.

"That's it, see? Not so hard," he mocked. "Just gotta keep your mouth busy." You whimpered, cradling his balls; giving a playful squeeze that made him moan lightly. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this," he reached for your cheek and jaw, gently moving his hips - making you pause yourself to let him move. "Oh, fuck, that's - fuck," he seethed, "just let me do whatever I want t'you, won't you? Take a li'l more, good, good, just breathe," he guided, mouth opening in shock when he watched more of himself disappear in your mouth. "Oh, Jesus - you're such a dirty fuckin' girl, look at yah - so eager, willing," he nearly choked when he hit the back of your throat. "Shit - baby, don't," he paused to grunt, hunching over slightly and holding himself up on the back cushion of the train's seating. "Don't hurt yourself," he whimpered, your jaw opening just a fraction more, throat constricting when his cockhead slid against your uvula.

"Oh, my God," he praised, testing the waters and trying to thrust - but your gagging and choking made him pull back. "Okay, okay, too much, sorry, love. Oh, shit," he gasped when you didn't let him pull out all the way, still sucking him as if you were getting paid for it. "Yeah? 'S like that? Oh, you Godsend angel. Gonna be good fa' me? Huh? Keep quiet?" He asked gruffly, making you swallow around him; earning a hiss. "You're fuckin' dangerous, aren't you?" He scoffed, "Too bad I won't get t'take my time, innit? Fuck."

You hummed as he retracted his hips fully. His eyes caught yours as he spread your saliva around his swollen member, hearing you mumble, "Can still get off with me."

He sighed, "Isn't that easy, doll," as he lowered himself back onto the bench over you. "There's more at stake - "

"I know," you nodded, guiding his forehead to yours as you pet his cheeks; the cut he earned smearing against your skin. "Just an offer, ain't it? Just thought if yah did come, could actually have yah in my mouth - like I want." You both paused, you telling him in a whisper, "Can choke me with your cock - hmm?"

He groaned, nuzzling your nose once before kissing you swiftly, deeply. His tongue swept against yours, tasting himself briefly; rubbing his warm cock into your inner thigh as he swallowed your moans of budding pleasure. So caught up in the way he made you feel, you squeaked when his hand suddenly rose and clasped around your throat, eyes popping open as your own hands dropped to his waist in shock.

"Choke me with your dick, Tan," you reminded.

"This works, though, still shuts you up."

"You're so fuckin' bold for this," you accused, gasping when his hand tightened.

"Then maybe shut the fuck up, girl, Goddamn," he seethed, biting your bottom lip, reopening the split, tightening his hand another degree. "You're gonna be a good fuckin' girl, aren't you? Huh? Think you can manage that? Know you got a problem with authority, doll, but you're gonna do as you're told, aren't yah?"

You glared but didn't answer.

"Yeah, that's real good," he mused when you had no words. "Now open your fuckin' mouth again."

When you did, he dribbled a line of spit onto your tongue, squeezing his hand around your throat and jaw when he wanted you to swallow. His smirk was something sinister and devious, peaking down to then paw your blouse the rest of the way open and tug your bra down until your breasts were exposed.

"Fuckin' knew you had great tits," he grit while gripping, twisting, tweaking your breast meat and nipple; not letting go of your throat to ensure your silence. "Not good for much else, huh? Are you?" He sneered, "Only sent on a grab job, weren't you? But look at you now, so fuckin' ready for me, so needy, excited, all distracted, desperate for my cock - aren't you? Answer me right fuckin' now," he growled.

"Yes," you croaked, gyrating your hips up into his; feeling his bare cock drag over your cunt and salivating.

"Good," he spoke to himself, shoving your hips back down as one hand rose to hold his cheek to keep yourself grounded. He chuckled to himself, "Just pathetic, innit? The way you crave me? Dumb fuckin' girl, can't even focus on a simple mission, can she? Huh? Can you?"

"No," you whimpered, "need more. Please, please."

"Shut up, I got you," he rolled his eyes, "but you don't really deserve it, do you?"

"I do, I swear - "

"Told you to shut the fuck up, though, yeah? Can't even do a simple task, got your head all stupid, do I? 'S good t'know, if we survive this."

You glared, seeing his grin widen before he was descending onto you again. You licked through the seam of his lips, being granted access; exploring the other's mouth in feverish motions that made your head spin and cunt contract. He still toyed with your tit, then abandoning the ministration to scale down your bodies to where you needed him most while your hand slid into his hair to grip his bloody scalp. You were so close to begging, yet you'd never give a man the satisfaction... Yet if Tangerine requested you to beg, beg you shall.

"That's my girl," he praised when he pet swiftly up your slit; gathering your slick in a single motion to spread around your clit. "Yeah, there's my girl, look at yah," he laughed over your mouth, "already so fuckin' dumb and I ain't even touch yah yet."

You whined a little, his hand readjusting his grip.

"Oh, fuckin' fine, you greedy bitch," he rolled his eyes, sinking a single digit into your heat; earning a high-pitched moan of relief. Tangerine laughed again, "Yeah? So desperate that just me fuckin' finger gets you like that?"

You tapped his wrist when he held a little too tight, him instantly loosening his grip around your throat. He rewarded you with a few pumps of his finger before adding a second, grinning when you had enough airflow to moan loud and clear.

"You make such pretty noises," he praised, "stupid, but pretty noises. Lemme hear you - that's all I wanna hear, not your fuckin' words, princess. Huh? Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, ready to cry from the anticipation he built in your body. With your bottom lip between your teeth, you let yourself clench around his digits, moaning when he massaged that spongy good spot of your inner walls.

"Wait - Tan - wait, wait," you begged and released his waist to reach for his wrist while he grinned.

"Aht," he let go of your neck to lay across your hips to keep hold, "stay there, be a good girl. Lemme see you - c'mon, love, get there for me," he pumped harder, faster, a small sweat coating your skin. The sounds were obscure and messy, sloppy and frantic, wet and pornographic; his breathing deep and huffy while yours was high-pitched. "So fuckin' pretty like this, under me like this. There's a good girl, yeah, chase that feelin', 's all right, don't run from me."

"Tan-Tangerine, shit, please," you babbled, unsure of yourself. "I-I don't - I don't - oh, fuck!"

"Let it happen," he encouraged, leering over you; only briefly aware of his cock leaking precum on your thigh. "Let that feeling take you, there's a good girl, you're right there - good fuckin' girl," Tan broke his mean streak to praise you briefly, feeling the familiar flutter. "Open, hey, hey, eyes on me, princess," he waited until your half-lidded eyes met his, watching him nod, "open your mouth." You were so blissed out, you didn't think, just doing so and accepting more of his spit. He grinned at you when your eyes rolled back, encouraging, "Go for it, pretty girl, fuckin' soak me, don't hold back - c'mon, wanna fuckin' feel you, need t'fuckin' feel you cum - ohh-hoo, yes, yes, yes," he chanted when you squealed, squirmed, and released a stream of squirt that splattered over you both.

But that wasn't all.

Tangerine was mesmerized, never relenting his efforts and before you had time to recover, he was forcing another wave of cum from your core. His thick body held yours in place, desperately squirming to try and get away from the overwhelming feeling; but he had you and wouldn't let go. "One more, one more, one more," Tan panted, hovering over you as his bulging bicep kept hammering into you without relent. He kissed you messily, "One more, baby, c'mon, I know you got it in you."

"I can't," you sobbed, trying to squirm away under him.

"You can, doll, you're right there, I fuckin' feel you - such a good girl, c'mon," he encouraged, offering a few messy kisses to your lips while you wantonly moaned without control. "One more, just for me, c'mon, baby, you can do it - just fa' me - there she is, yes, oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes," he laughed when you, for a third time, came in his hand and over his crotch.

"FUCK!" You yelped when he used the messy slick of your orgasm to line himself up and plunge directly into you. "Oh, shit - just - a minute, baby, hang on - fuck," you panted, holding his hips tightly with your legs spread. Slowly, you let them fall around his own as you relaxed.

"Got you, baby, 'M right here, take yah time," he whispered, flattening his tongue up your neck as he adjusted himself between your legs.

Half a minute later, you gave him permission to move - and it was the beginning of the end. You were sensitive, tight, gripping Tangerine to a new degree he hadn't felt before; his head spinning and mind short circuiting. You were nearly constrictive, webs of your stickiness coating him as he moved stiffly for the first few thrusts. As you loosened up under him, he gained momentum; your hands directing his face back to yours as you clung desperately to his hulking form.

He kissed you like it was the last thing he'd do (and maybe it was), holding your hips so he could drill into you easier; lifting one hand to pet your throat before gripping it, like before. The other then drifted to hike your leg up his hip, the new angle making him shudder lightly. "I'm there, love," he grunted, looking concentrated and borderline in pain, "right fuckin' there - ah shit, you feel so fuckin' good."

"Yes, yes, don't stop, Tan, please," you moaned, locating your clit to apply pressure and rub in harsh little circles.

"Ah, my greedy girl," he chuckled, "three wasn't enough?"

"Wanna cum with you," you whimpered, gasping into his mouth as you were overly sensitive and careened off your cliff. Your orgasm triggered Tangerine's, who plunged completely into you and held still while his balls contracted; mouths left gaping open against the other. In complete bliss, you shared a laugh of disbelief with sweaty foreheads pressed together - both forgetting reality for a bit.

At the moment Tan opened him mouth to confess something to you, Lemon decided to stumble in through the automatic door, yelling, "Bruv! Oi! Where you at!?"

"GET OUT!" Tangerine roared, barely visible over the top of the benches.

"The fuck you doin', mate?"

You latched your legs around Tan, keeping his cock planted snuggly inside you; rocking upward to hold onto his neck and spy his brother over the back of the seating. "Hi, Lem!" You chirped.

"Peach? Oh, fuck me!" He laughed. "Or - fuck you, ammirite?"

"Give us a minute, honey, would you, please?"

"Only a minute?" He laughed again. "'Cause that's all you need, right, Tan?"

"Fuck off, Lemon," Tangerine snapped. "We got the case, we're gettin' the fuck off at the next stop - just - fuck off a minute."

Lemon shrugged, "You make the plans, mate."

"Be out inna bit, love, thank you," you smiled prettily at Lemon, who finally nodded, held his hands up in defense and backed out of the train car. "Well," you mused when Tangerine leaned back into the seat but kept a firm grip on your hips, "that was only mildly embarrassing."

"He's seen me in worse positions," Tan shrugged, blinking when he realized how that sounded, exactly. "Not like that - no, just, I mean, as my bruva, you know, he's seen - you know what?" He sighed. "Don't fuckin' matter."

"So," you smirked, grinding your hips over his public hair, "you're taking my advice? Gettin' off the train?"

"I knew you were greedy, but this naughty, too?" He groaned, slapping his hands to your hips and guiding your motions. "Just filled you, love, and you want more?"

"That an issue?" You smirked, feeling him swell in you again.

"Not a bit," he smirked.

"Answer me," you demanded. "You seriously gettin' off?"

"Why the fuck not? The kid's dead and whatever's in the case should cover however pissed off this makes the bosses, right? Though..." He trailed off when one of your hands reached around to give a gentle tug on his balls.

"Keep goin'," you whispered with a growing smirk, hips swirling.

"Though," he cleared his throat, "don't think we've ever not finished a job before."

"This is different," you promised.

He gulped harshly, encouraging your motions; stretching up to squeeze both breasts and making you falter slightly into him. "All three of us are gonna get off, yeah?" He whispered, bringing you in closer as your hips began to rise and fall with steady tempo. "Got somewhere fa us t'go?"

"I'll get it arranged," you promised swiftly, arms coiling around his neck to hold yourself in position as you increased your speed. "But we're giving my employer the case."

"Fine with me," he nodded, "just wanna stay alive at this point." You chuckled with him, raising up to keep riding him; his eyes glancing over your shoulder and stiffening. "Uh, love? H-Hang on, hang on," his arms encased you suddenly, making you stop all ministrations.

"W-What's wrong? You okay?"

"Where's the fucking case?"

Your waist twisted to snap your torso around, peering over at the empty benches you had once sat in front of. Your blood was left behind... But the silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle was missing.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

Six train cars up, Ladybug shuddered and told Maria, "Christ, they were at it like rabbits. And, hey, like, is it cool to be mean during sex now? 'Cause he was kinda mean, but she seemed into it, so... That's cool, I guess?"

"Some people like that," Maria eased.

"Do you?"

"You don't want that answer. Do you have the case?"

"For now," he sighed. "How much you wanna bet they haven't noticed, yet? Bet they're still goin' at it..."

"You sound jealous."

"They're both very attractive people... Hm, you know, maybe I am a little jealous."

"Of which one?"

"Not entirely sure yet."

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist