#me: *thinks abt aki*

[wmiescieinazumy]

I think about this moment a lot:

screenshotted from INAZUMA ELEVEN 2: Blizzard ❄️ Gameplay Walkthrough FULL GAME (Nintendo DS) by Kouteshi on YT

I don't remember the video time stamp unfortunately.

"(sigh) It must be nice to hear from your mother..." hit me like a bus.

Because the implication immediately is that Aki haven't heard from her mom since they had left on this trip. Since rika is in the screenshot we can safely assume this is a moment after their visit in osaka. When we add all the travel time from location to location it will be around 72 hours, and that's only travel time. Obviously this portion of the trip lasted longer than 3 days - they had to stop on the way for training, breaks, stop to sleep, they spent time at the locations when they arrived there. And realistically, the travel time will be different from what the internet suggests too - there's traffic and other unforseen circumstances to be taken into consideration.

But in truth it doesn't matter as much how long they have been gone. What matters is that aki feels ignored, dare i suggest, neglected by her mother.

Her next lines are her being concerned about her mother's well-being while she's away - giving us the idea that while she's at home she's quite involved in taking care of her mother. In isolation caring about your parent isn't a bad thing but put right next to a wistful admission of 'i wish my mom called me' is a pretty bad look for Aki's parents.

It puts into perspective her being so responsible at her age. Perhaps the situation is that she had to become self-reliant fast and turn into another parent in her household, all while being the child. In the same game she shares a moment with Fubuki later on, where he compares her to his mother, so there's at least one character who considers Aki's demeanor to be quite parent-like. I'm pretty sure there are more comments about her mom behavior, but i can't remember anthing specific. Her and Fubuki actually have a LOT of interactions in the game and it's a shame this didn't carry over to the anime.

For all her apparent openness, she can be a pretty closed off character. The kind of person you don't think is hiding anything because of how approachable they are, only to suddenly become aware of the carefully maintained distance they keep people at. I think it could have been even worse after Ichinose's "death" and her loss of contact with Domon, and it could be that only after she befriended Endou that she became more open about her emotions. More than before, but not entirely.

I realize this is a pretty negative interpretation, but Inazuma has never shied away from giving their characters bad home lives and dark pasts. After all just in this game/season we meet Kogure, who was straight up abandoned by his own mother and we get introduced to Fudou (although his backstory gets revealed in the next season).

As a sidenote, I'm gonna add that we see Aki receive calls from a bunch of people in the game (she's like their phone operator lmao). For example, she gets calls from Endou's mom and the detective. And this just makes me think of her having this small glimmer of hope every time her phone rings, thinking that maybe, just maybe it was her mom, calling to check in with her, make sure she is doing well, that she is safe and warm and fed.

She probably knows her mom's number by heart. And each time she looked at her phone screen her face would fall, imperceptibly, before she steeled herself and answered the call. Focusing back on the task at hand, pushing her feelings deep inside.

So I'm just gonna say. Aki's mother is on thin ice for me-

On an unrelated note; her hair color and shape change slightly in the sprite between the middle and last screenshot skfhsdjkf

[siredcrab]

My little boy angel devil n the other guy. They went for groceries, angel behaved well so aki got some gum for him, everything is nice and fine forever for them...yeah

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I’VE ALWAYS LOVED THE WAY YOU EAT ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru is a morning person. he likes the serenity of it all; the quiet of the early hours, the expensive feel of his coffee pot. more than anything, he likes bringing you breakfast in bed.

word count; 4.9k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, just comfy morning vibes, fluff fluff fluff!!, suguru being a good soon-to-be husband, lots of petnames, reader is whipped (and so am i) but suguru is even worse, i need him biblically.

a/n; this is my personal essay on why suguru geto is the perfect man and wife. bon appetit !!

something smells good.

as your eyelids flutter open, and you gradually slip out of sleep’s fuzzy embrace, you are engulfed by that one thought. that one sensation.

there’s a sweet fragrance in the air, an unnamed something you can’t place. a force of love.

soft sunrays flit in through the haphazardly closed window blinds of your bedroom, cascading across the floorboards and bouncing off the walls. splotches of sunshine envelop you in a hazy kind of glow; gentle and coaxing, stirring you awake. it feels good on your skin.

indulging in a few more slow blinks, you shift to lie on your back, halfheartedly attempting to chase the sleepiness away. tangled up in silken sheets and fluffy blankets, you stare at the ceiling — but even such a mundane task feels so nice. just wallowing in the tantalizing scent drifting through the bedroom, the flurry of little kisses that the sun smothers you with. 

it’s still early, and you’re still sleepy. outside the walls of your apartment, the sun is rising to its feet, dyeing the world in warm colours; violets and blues melting into pinks and oranges, like an egg cracked open on the canvas of the sky. everything is quiet, not a sound to be heard except for the very distant chirping of cicadas from the trees outside your window. utter peace. like time isn’t even passing.

in the midst of such a precious moment, all you want is to laze around. it’s just that kind of pleasant, mellow morning; the kind that makes you wish the sun would never fully rise.

a satisfied little sigh slips from your lips. content to soak in the heavenly feeling until it passes, your eyes flutter shut — you’re just so sleepy, and the sun just feels so warm. soothing you, making it even harder to stay awake, cradling you in its hazy embrace. sunlit and saccharine.

with the morning fatigue clouding your senses, you don’t even notice the other presence in the room. 

suguru smiles, from his spot by the door — leaning against the wall and gazing at your relaxed expression, an immense fondness reflected in his eyes. taking a moment to silently admire you.

you look so content. tangled up in blankets and pillows, with your limbs outstretched and starfished across the mattress. your hair is a little messy, and you’re drooling just a smidge, wearing his shirt; it’s a couple sizes too big for you, slipping off your shoulder and exposing your sunkissed skin. as suguru’s eyes trail over your features, the fond smile on his face only grows, shifting into something honeyed and giddy. 

you’re perfect, he thinks. absolutely perfect.

a moment passes. then another. suguru continues to stare, as if trying to etch the image of you into his memory. trying to prolong the moment for as long as he can. 

until, finally, he’s had his fill. simply admiring you from afar isn’t enough — he needs to see you up close, needs to hear the sleepy little tilt of your voice. so he opts to make his presence known, voice gravelly and sweet, echoing softly throughout the room.

“good morning, sweetheart.”

softly, your eyes flicker open. the familiar voice sends a tremor of something running through your chest — and suddenly, it feels as if some of the sleep clinging to your skin has been washed away. it’s a little easier to make yourself move, shifting to your side to get a better look at the source of the sound.

and the warmth that blossoms in your chest when your eyes meet suguru’s is almost overwhelming.

(god, he’s pretty.)

suguru looks perfect, in the morning. he looks like the rest of your life. hair a little messy, tied up into a lazy half-done bun, silky black strands cascading down his neck. and wearing a pair of comfy sweatpants that hang a little low on his hips, but no shirt — showing off the curve of his tiny waist, the slight twitch of his arms when he indulges in an idle stretch. 

you try to restrain yourself from ogling his bare chest and arms too much, but it’s tough. frighteningly so. with the sunlight embracing his skin, muscles on full display, he looks a bit like a sculpture. a little too good to be real.

but he is. and he’s yours. and he’s smirking at you, lazily, affectionately — eyes half-lidded as he balances the tray that’s making the room smell so sweet. just standing there, looking so unfairly gorgeous. waiting for you to muster up the energy to respond to his greeting, more than happy to watch the way your eyes soften as they trail across his features in the meantime.

“morning,” is all you can rasp, eyes closing as your cheek sinks deeper into the mattress. a bit too tired to talk to him properly, and a bit too unguarded to look at him without feeling as if your heart is about to leap out of your throat. 

he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting. 

you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.

suguru doesn’t seem to mind. he only chuckles, voice deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine. his lips quirk up into a smooth kind of smile, and he’s quick to make his way to your side; crouching down to meet you at eye level after placing the tray on the nightstand.

a hand comes to caress your cheek. the rough pads of his fingers smooth down your jaw, gentle and doting, as if coaxing you out of hiding. as if you’re made of porcelain. suguru always treats you like you’re fragile, like you’re the most precious thing he has.

(because you are, he thinks. more precious than the expensive vanilla extract he used to make the waffles on the tray, more precious than the diamond-clad ring he’s hidden away in a drawer of the guest room. more precious than anything this world has to offer.)

a blissful little sigh slips from your lips, as you nuzzle into his palm. suguru leans forward to smear a kiss against your forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on your skin.

the sensation strikes you as just a little heavenly. his touch is so tender, every caress so full of love. instinctual, the way his love bleeds into his touch, trickles down his veins to the tips of his fingers — smoothing along your skin. such a heavy thing, but he just makes it feel so light. 

“still sleepy?” he hums, a little teasing. eyes crinkling, voice bordering on a coo.

and it’s infuriating. the amusement that flickers through his eyes, the way you can tell he’s itching to tease you for being so groggy and tired.

between the two of you, suguru’s always been the one to get out of bed first, to your grave annoyance. and he’s so smug about it. you want to tell him that waking up so early on a saturday isn’t normal, that he’s the weird one for not being sleepy — 

but when he’s cupping your cheek so gently, all you manage is a meek little murmur of mm. one that has suguru stifling a coo, lips curling up into an adoring smile. 

look at you. his sleepy little baby, dyed in sunrays and tiny specks of dust. so effortlessly pretty, tangled up in fluffy blankets, an image so precious he almost feels like he shouldn’t be looking at it. yet he continues to do so, mesmerized.

(suguru doesn’t mind being a little greedy, when it comes to you.)

“i made you breakfast,” he continues, as you melt into his touch. an absentminded action, but almost brimming with trust; the trust you have in him to treat you well. one he’ll always, always affirm. “your favorite. wanna eat with me?”

breakfast.

something in your brain visibly reacts to the sound of the word, shooing away a little of the morning fatigue still clouding your senses. before you know it, you’ve forced yourself into a sitting position, with groggy movements and a soft groan. rubbing the skin beneath your eyes and kicking the blanket off your legs, a little clumsily.

suguru breathes out a soft bout of laughter, low and amused, as you lazily stretch and indulge in slow blinks. his hand goes to ruffle your hair, and all you do is lean into it.

“i’ll take that as a yes,” he teases, eyes full of fondness. you crack a sleepy smile at his amused tone of voice.

suguru’s hands are big, and a little rough, but still so very soft. you could spend hours tracing them — from the tips of his fingers down to the veins of his wrist, across his knuckles littered with small scratches and barely visible scars. stories of his childhood, that he loves telling you about, almost as much as you love hearing them.

you love his hands. they’re so pretty. so warm and grounding, as they smooth down your hair, unmistakably caring. the weight of them is a comfort, as his fingers card through your bedhead, scratching softly at your scalp. a sensation that makes you feel all fuzzy inside.

suguru is just so good to you.

and you’re only further reminded of that fact when your gaze trails over to the assortment of breakfast foods he’s prepared, neatly stacked on the nightstand. all your favorites, made with so much love; and it’s so evident, even just in the presentation. the freshness of the strawberry slices, the perfect amount of syrup spread over the waffles. the cup of coffee made just the way you like it.

maybe it’s the morning fatigue, or just the softness of the moment. the intimacy, so palpable you can almost reach out and touch it. or maybe it’s something else entirely — whatever the cause, you feel your eyes get somewhat glassy. 

a meek little sniffle leaves your lips, and it catches even you off guard.

suguru blinks. suddenly alert, his morning-fatigued brain trying to comprehend the sight of your teary eyes. brain spinning in circles, not sure if it should be telling him to panic just yet. something in him constricts, twists and turns, a desperate kind of yearning to protect you.

but before he can even reach out to wipe away the wetness with his thumb, you’ve latched yourself onto him.

arms snug around his waist, face tucked under his chin. fitting into him like a puzzle piece. breathing in the remnants of the cologne on his neck; a nice bergamot mix that you like, so he sprays on a little extra just for you. so close to him that you can feel the patter of his heart against you, as you soak in his body warmth. 

and his arms find their way around your form just as naturally, without him even having to think. like every bone in his body was born with a desire to cradle you close. like he was crafted in the image of someone made to soothe you. 

being in suguru’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.

”what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.

”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. ”you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”

a pause. 

then, a chuckle bubbles up from suguru’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.

(you’re so ridiculous, he thinks.)

but you only nuzzle further into his neck, all sleepy and affectionate — and it stirs his heartstrings in a way that makes him feel rather helpless. crumbling beneath your touch. gazing at you with soft eyes, a happy little hum buzzing in his throat.

he takes you in, in all your clingy glory; so impossibly sweet. maybe he should have sprinkled some sugar on the strawberry slices, just to see if the taste could ever measure up.

”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. ”i’m sorry, baby. i should be the one saying that to you, though.”

but you just shake your head, arms tightening around his midriff. as if offended that he’d have the audacity to brush off your objectively correct statement, to even think to deny how perfect he is. 

and suguru raises a brow at you, in tandem, a mild protest resting on the tip of his tongue — offended at your blatant disrespect, shaking your head at his factually correct words, as if disagreeing with your own evident perfection. 

but before he can even begin to fight you on the topic, you part your lips to speak.

”thanks for breakfast, sugu,” you sleepily murmur, biting back a yawn. still a little meek, but oh so loving. ”i would die for you.”

he stills, once more. then another soft bout of laughter escapes his lungs, rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm. it makes you feel so terribly safe.

“there’s no need for that,” he assures you. ”don’t you wanna eat instead?”

to his surprise, he’s met with another soft shake of your head. so snug in his embrace that you could practically live there, only clinging to him a little tighter with a huff.

”just wanna hug you first…” you yawn, arms squeezing at his waist affectionately. shifting in his hold until your lips find their way to his neck.

”i love you,” you mumble, kissing down his jaw and collarbone. sleepy, open mouthed pecks, trailing over the expanse of his pretty skin. ”so much.”

it tickles, a little. suguru digs his teeth into his cheek, ever so slightly, just to hold back the giggle that threatens to break out from his throat.

and it’s maybe just a little too sweet, the sensation that blossoms in his chest, something honeyed and flowery; fluttering deep within his ribcage, like a dragonfly buzzing and trying to break free. it gets him a little weak in the knees.

to distract himself from the voice in his head urging him to go get the ring in the guest room drawer right this instant, suguru scoops you up. cradling you close, as he plops down on the mattress, legs crossed to give you space on his lap.

you don’t protest, only snuggling a little closer — as if yearning to tuck yourself away within his ribcage. 

and suguru chuckles, the deep tremor of his voice reverberating through his chest, echoing in your head as you listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart. rubbing your back with a teasing smile, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head.

“i should make breakfast more often if it’ll get you like this,” he grins, basking in the warmth of your body against his. 

a little whine falls from your lips. muffled into the curve of his shoulder, against his bare skin. “it’s not about the breakfast,” you pout, looping your arms around his neck. “it’s everything you do…”

a heat rises to your cheeks, a little embarrassed at the sappiness you’re exuding. but the sun feels so nice on your skin, and the bedroom smells so good, and the whole world feels so kind. 

inhaling the fragrance of bergamot and coffee, you can only fall apart at the intimacy of the moment. 

“i’m really grateful…” you murmur, resting your lips against his skin. buzzing with a warmth that has him shuddering. “‘m just bad at expressing it.”

suguru’s eyes soften. melting into a tender hue, like that of a creamsicle sunrise sky. a dreamy look smoothes over his features, and a fond hum buzzes in his throat.

“nah, you’re fine,” he drawls, squeezing at your hips affectionately. pulling away ever so slightly, just to plant a kiss on your forehead, brushing your bangs away with a certain bleeding tenderness. “you don’t need to say it out loud. i know, anyway.”

and he does. suguru understands you better than anyone; a point of immense pride, for him. knowing you so deeply that he can practically hear your thoughts before you speak them, knowing what you need at a single glance. just from a certain furrow of your brows, or the slight tilt of a smile you’re trying to hide. 

always one step ahead, folding your laundry on days you’re feeling particularly stressed out, or giving your hand a comforting squeeze when he notices that you’re nervous. always so attentive. it’s a little overwhelming, but also so comforting — to be so thoroughly understood.

his eyes are warm. full of pure affection, a devotion so heavy it makes your heart stutter in your chest. all you can do is glance down, shyly, slumping your forehead against his bare chest. 

your voice comes out a little strangled, still raspy. a little wobbly in the wake of your adoration.

“i wanna appreciate you…” is muffled against his skin, your lips curled down into a soft pout. and suguru breathes out a flustered little breath, amused — somewhat delighted.

“you can appreciate me by eating a hearty breakfast,” he suggests, a teasing tilt to his husky voice. cradling you just a little closer, as if even the miniscule distance between you is unbearable. as if he needs your hearts pressed together to keep himself intact. “how about that, hm? or would you rather give me a kiss?”

a moment passes, and a sleepy hum slips from your tongue. he feels your lips touch the soft skin of his neck, once more; then you muster up the strength to pull back from his embrace, slumping against his shoulder with your back against the headboard. it takes concentrated effort.

and suguru chuckles, again. odd, how a man who’s normally so put-together can’t seem to ever hide his joy whenever you’re around. but suguru is just a little too weak for you — he can’t help but let you strum his heartstrings along, however you want. any kind of melody you desire.

(it just so happens that no melody sounds prettier than a joyous one, when it’s falling from his lips.)

a lovesick smile painted on his face, suguru watches as you finally dig in. and he thinks it’s precious, the strawberry juice smearing your lips, the contentment in your features as your eyelids flutter shut. a mellow kind of pride swells in his chest with every satisfied hum that you grace him with, every giddy declaration of how delicious it all is. 

there’s something about it he can’t quite explain, can’t put his finger on. something almost otherworldly, in how fulfilled it makes him feel, like he’s lived his entire life just for this moment. just for the sake of making you breakfast and watching you wolf it all down.

suguru doesn’t think there's a single better way to show his love for you than this; cooking for you, putting every last drop of his love into everything he makes. from beverages to pastries, each of them carefully chosen to suit your tastes.

there’s an intensity to the labour, something that brings him great joy. the care and excitement in something as small as the flick of his wrist when he pours sugar into your coffee, or the weight he puts on the kitchen knife while cutting the fresh strawberries he spent four minutes picking out at the market.

there’s something about it that’s just so, so tender. that earnest wish to see you happy and healthy, to make sure you never go hungry. taking care of you. it's pure, domestic, love incarnate. he’s so weak for it, so sappy, but he just can’t help it — suguru loves watching you eat his cooking more than anything.

that, and your blissful little expression is a sight to behold. sunkissed by the morning rays flitting in through the window blinds, suguru thinks you look something like an angel, soft and fleeting and so beautiful it makes his heart squeeze painfully inside his chest. heavy thumps of blood; warmth trickling from his heart to his wrists to the pads of his fingers, as he rubs absentminded circles into the skin of your thighs.

and he thinks to himself that all the happiness he needs is right here in front of him. in this moment, with you tiredly munching on the breakfast he made, sipping slowly from your cup of coffee and savouring every last drop. smiling at him so sweetly, so positively precious that he simply can't resist leaning down to taste the caffeine off your lips. 

everything feels so wonderful, so completely and utterly right. the world feels so kind, like this. a world where all that exists is you, and him, and the sun. heaven on earth.

all of it sends a tremor running through his heart, every slight change of the scene reflected in his eyes. the soft smile on your lips, the way you lean your head against his shoulder and bite back a yawn, the expectant look in your eyes as you feed him pieces of your food with a giddy grin —

suguru thinks to himself that he’d sooner die than give it up. 

as much as he loves sleeping in, loves indulging in your warmth until the sun sits comfortably on the blue canvas of the sky, he loves this even more. loves dragging himself out of bed before the sun even has a chance to peek out beneath the horizon painted pink and purple, tired and groggy, and so disgruntled at the warmth that leaves him when he pulls away from your skin. loves making his way to the kitchen almost in a daze, moving around the open space so very naturally; fingers curling around the lid of the espresso machine, and the crinkled paper bag of pastries, and the carton of orange juice he bought just for you.

just watching the world wake up, basking in the peace and domesticity of it all. basking in the thought of you — you, with your messy bedhead and droopy eyes, always blinking up at him so sleepily when he returns to you in the morning. he loves it all.

the soft little frown that sometimes tugs at your lips when you’re still lost in dreamland, blindly and subconsciously reaching for the empty side of the bed when he gets up to stretch. the weight of your arms around his waist, hugging his back on the somewhat rare occasion that you make your way to him before he makes his way to you. the grumbles against his skin about how he always abandons you on your days off, even if he only does it so he can make you both coffee.

you, in all your glory — now resting against his shoulder as you plop the last strawberry into your mouth, closing your eyes with a blissful little sigh.

and suguru feels so lucky. so very honoured, to be the one you chose. the one and only person who gets to see you like this, when your voice is still raspy and your hair is still messy, and you have crumbs sticking to your soft lips that you're too sleepy to wipe away.

he does so, himself, with an amused little huff that’s really more of a sigh laced with adoration. thumb smoothing over your skin gently, a silent i love you hanging on the tip of his tongue. his fingers find their way to your skin so effortlessly. like they belong there, like they exist solely to trace the softness of your jaw and to cradle your cheek.

”thank you,” you beam up at him, grinning sweetly. 

and suguru knows that you mean it. he knows that you’re grateful, knows not a moment goes by when you don’t notice his affections, no matter how subtle. he thinks you're a little bit silly for worrying that he doesn't. but he thinks you're even sillier for not realizing that you deserve all of it and more, that just that sweet smile of yours alone is more than enough to make up for it.

more than anything, he hopes from the bottom of his heart that you know the opposite is true as well. that he appreciates every single thing you do, notices everything you do for him, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to you.

you're so good to him. always have been. how could he ever bear to not repay you in tenfold?

”you’re welcome,” he smiles, soft and saccharine and genuine. his lips brush against your forehead with a soft peck, one that has your body melting into his just a little more.

breakfast passes you both by in a flurry of warmth, splotches of sunlight and content hums, until you’re lying side by side beneath the blankets once again. curled up close to each other, with you resting on suguru’s chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart. his arm rests on your back, cradling you closer.

”that was delicious,” you chirp, something soft buzzing in your voice as you bite back a yawn. stretching your limbs out lazily, a honeyed smile on your face. ”as always.”

suguru’s a little too tired to fully hide the soft grin that crawls up to rest on his lips, almost smug. awfully happy with himself, and your words of earnest praise.

“yeah? ’m glad,” he hums, looking at you with affection swimming in his eyes. ”i haven’t lost my touch yet, then.”

”of course not,” you exhale, somewhere in between a huff and a chirp. “you could start a whole breakfast diner with your skills!”

the words are teasing, a little much, but laced with a syrupy sweet sincerity that has suguru’s heart doing laps in his chest. thump, thump, thump — strumming his heartstrings along as you please, conducting the orchestra inside his ribcage. but he’d much prefer to think of you as his muse.

a low chuckle rumbles through his body, akin to a purr. buzzing right by your ear, as his fingers curl around yours, his thumb rubbing soft circles into the skin of your hand. ”you think so?” 

an eager nod, as you gaze up at him happily. the sight makes his lips twitch upward, and he can only hope you don’t catch the way his heart skips a beat.

smoothing a large palm over your head, he tousles your hair fondly. ”yeah?” he chuckles, again. “you'll be my first customer, then.”

the smile on your face widens. ”will i get a discount?” you ask, a fuzzy contentment in the way your eyes glimmer. ”since i’m your favorite.”

suguru grins. a husky puff of laughter seeps out of his throat, filling the air with a palpable fondness. it’s almost overwhelming, the affection that simmers in his chest, a cup overflowing. he wants to reach over and smother you in kisses, wants to coo at you. wants to tell you how irresistable you are, like this; so cute and sleepy that he thinks you could probably coax him into giving you every star in the sky.

but that can all wait for another time. he doesn’t want to break the peace of the mellow moment, the subtle intimacy that lingers in the air. the playfulness in your words.

”of course,” he simply says, indulging you with a sweet smile. ”you’ll get all the discounts you want, baby. nothing less for my favorite customer.”

suguru’s eyes crinkle, brimming with love when he hears the happy little giggle that tumbles from your pretty lips. so pretty that he can’t resist pulling you a little closer, to give you another kiss — relishing in the way you soften against him. like you could fall asleep just like this, so safe and comfortable. breathing him in.

sunlight shines in through the window blinds, engulfing you in that familiar heavenly hue. your bedroom almost seems to glow, like a hazy polaroid, a moment that feels too precious to put into words. 

you look stunning, he thinks, with your droopy eyes and sleepy yawns. absolutely breathtaking. soaked in a brightness rivaling that of the sun herself, the most precious thing this world has to offer.

and suguru thinks to himself that this might just be it. that this might be all that he needs, all that he’ll ever need — but he already knew that.

he thinks of sunrises. of soft embraces and fluffy blankets, of expensive coffee pots and diamond rings, of the way your lips curl up every time he kisses you. he thinks of the light of morning, how it always seems to devour everything else. how it makes every sliver of darkness seem so inconsequential.

he thinks of how your presence always seems to do the same. 

when suguru looks down, pulled out of his lovesick stupor by the sound of a little snore, you’ve fallen back asleep. cheek squished against his bare chest, drooling a smidge as you dream so prettily, your chest rising up and down in a rhythmic serenity.

his heart flutters. fleeting and giddy, a little dove trapped in his chest. with a sweet coo, he reaches over to caress your skin with the back of his hand, careful not to wake you — so gentle that he holds his breath, as if afraid that even a single exhale could disrupt your well-deserved rest. 

butterflies dance in his stomach, when he sees the way that makes you smile. a whirlwind of them, wings fluttering eagerly, as if attempting to fly out of his throat. he gulps them down again, but he can still feel them. just like he could when you first met.

butterflies that still haven't gone away, despite how long you’ve been together. butterflies that never will go away, as long as there are plates to fill and breakfasts to be made.

in other words, they're there to stay — forever and ever.

(suguru’s gaze falls on your ring finger. he thinks of the secret in the bottom of the drawer, and wonders what kind of breakfast he should make for you when it’s time to bring it out.)

[wave-man]

that one line from amazing spider-man 2 thats like "just one spider-man. or woman we dont know. for sure" but its aki talking abt mega man

[cowboy-robooty]

i am protecting the world by never chainsaw man posting because you dont understand how much i have to say about my boy denji

[oatmealmika]

aki hayakawa as rodrick hefley. no, i refuse to explain any further.

[zeninsama-moved]

hi mercury!! I hope your weekend is going good! I was recommended menthol by a friend and honest to god this is my favorite CSM fic ever. The pacing, the characterization of aki and reader, the smut, literally all wonderfully written. I always like to check the tumblrs of authors when I read fics on AO3, so i checked yours and imagine my surprise to see that theirs a prequel AND sequel coming?! The descriptions alone have me soo excited for both!

Thats all, just wanted to let you know I’m such an absolute fan of your writing. I hope both sides of your pillow are cool tonight

(Sidebar: do u have a ko-fi?)

HELLO, THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY SWEET... however i cannot take the credit when my sweetfart @cyancherub was the wizard putting the story into words, i am just a humble ideaman behind it. maybe that's still writing but in a different sense. cass is one of the best writers i've ever encountered, even taking published authors into account and menthol wouldn't be if not for cass.

(that being said, i do nawwwt have a ko-fi, even tho i'm flat broke i would feel horrible asking for money when i don't offer anything in return like commissions 😭)

[kkujo]

Aki is just the Most Guy of all time and you’re articulating it so much better cause I just go “hnnnnnnnnnn Hot Man care about annoying kids”

BELIEVE ME I AM SOOOOOO INSANE ABOUT HIM. FOR REALS

[hayakawapartner]

what if i wrote the most self indulgent most nasty smut fic ever. what then

[einsatzzz]

I was just watching Fruits Basket and omg your recent Valentine’s art reminded me of AkiShigu💜💜

‼️Hehehe if you're a different anon from the one who sent the other ask, I made an art based on an Aki/Shigu anime screenshot for them here‼️

Anyway, thank you for sending this ask Anon! All the Furu/ba mention in my inbox lately is really making me wanna go rewatch the anime again. It also just so happens that Shi//gure/Aki//to (Aki/Shigu? Aki/Gure? my search for the common ship name is coming up with mixed results haha I never really engaged in the fandom for this series) is a pairing in the show that is one of the most interesting to me, though perhaps it's just me and my very biased preference for crazy and obsessive characters shgvfhgsdcf (add problematic and toxic to the list too, but this very specific genre of it that I can't quite pinpoint/articulate myself right now) I really want to dissect the brains of characters like those and put them under a microscope hahaha it's just so fun to analyze them as a viewer/reader, you know? 🤣🤣🤣

And then there's Aki/to's gender being a plot twist, but for Kana's case, their gender never really mattered in the story at all (this is explored more for a different character instead). Of course, there's Aki/to being prone to outbursts when things don't go as planned/imagined, compared to Kana who will secretly plan murder with a deadpan face instead lmao

Though in terms of character and lore, these two pairings are really so different from each other tbh! Like how Shig/ure is a dog, but for Hibari, I can see him more as a cat (there may be more fitting animals for him, but I'll think about that more deeply later! I just have a personal bias for the cat hibari agenda...SHOUTOUT TO MY BELOVED RECENTLY ANNOUNCED NAMJA/TOWN COLLAB!!! HELL YEAH!!!).

(ok but if we're talking about one of the most vine-boom scenes related to Aki/Shigu...between Hibari and Kana, Kana is more likely to commit those "crimes" (disclaimer: IF 1000% ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY FOR HER ENDS AND ITS RLLY THE ONLY WAY, THE GOOD NEWS FOR BETTER OR WORSE IS HER BRAIN ALMOST ALWAYS JUMPS STRAIGHT TO MURDER AS A SOLUTION) /hj HAHAHAHA 😭💀🤣😭💀🤣 perhaps she is Aki/Shigu's radioactively toxic lovechild for all we know)

But when I do search for random screenshots or fanarts of Aki/Shigu, somehow most of it match HibaKana's vibes quite well, which is surprising to me. Perhaps its the common obsessive factor (but in different fonts/styles) that they all have going on???

That's all for now! I took your ask as an opportunity to yap about them hahaha I've been watching Aki/Shigu clips to cope lately you see hsfvhgsdvghdsvfh

[silvvermoon]

i NEED a fic or drabble of aki spitting in my mouth. I CANT STOP THINKING ABT IT

oh god, yes. 💞 fic will come later but short horny Drabble first!

so like, you’ve always figured aki has a spit kink with the way he spits fat globs of saliva on your pussy when he’s about to fuck you. or eat you out. or finger you. it really doesn’t seem to matter what aki’s about to give your pussy coz it’s always starts with his spit. “just wanna make sure you’re extra wet for me, sweetheart,” he’ll whisper, before rubbing his spit into your clit with warm fingers. he never stops just there though, coz Aki adores seeing his saliva being pushed up into your tight hole as well, reminds him that you’re pussy is his alone and gives him the same giddy feeling as when he sees his cum dribbling out of you too. he definitely won’t deny that seeing you covered with his spit makes him feel powerful.

and yeah tbh, it’s kinda filthy and you love it.

so you’re not surprised when one night, with aki’s cock pressed deep inside your gushing pussy, he gently asks you “wanna be a good girl for me right now? make me proud of you?” and it’s a massive contradiction to the rough pace he’s fucking you with. gentle voice, brutal fucking. you’re way too gone to blabber anything else but “yes, oh fuck-, yes, wanna be good.”

and aki’s so good at this with you. he knows better than anything that you love the praise, you’ll do anything for it as long as he keeps encouraging you while giving you everything you need. he’ll keep fucking you like this while he makes his commands, wants to keep you dumb from his cock and ready to take more of him. and you’re so pretty like this, spread out on the mattress below him, just ready to take and take and take.

“open that pretty mouth for me, princess. you gonna let me spit in your mouth?” he murmurs, bringing a hand up to cup your jaw, pressing his thumb against your lower lip to encourage you to open. “wider,” he says as you follow his instructions. you do exactly that.

“want it, i want it so bad,” you mumble. maybe you should be disgusted, but you’re not. the things that should disgust you just serve to turn you on even more. you’re pussy is aching from aki’s slowing thrusts and you need more from him. you know that he’ll only give you that if you open wide for him and take his spit. even just the idea of it has your pussy clenching tighter around his cock.

your mouth opens wider for him, and aki praises your good behaviour with gentle coo’s of “good girl, such a good fucking girl for me tonight. and you’re gonna swallow for me as well, aren’t you princess?”

really, all you can do is nod dumbly, gasping when aki leans in close and spits into your mouth. you can taste him on your tongue, just a hint of tobacco and aki. all aki. he tastes good and you want more. you swallow it down quickly, and then in a shaky voice you say “more, want you to spit in my mouth again.” you’re definitely begging and you definitely don’t care. not when aki spitting in your mouth is enough to bring you closer to your orgasm.

“fuck, baby. just so good for me,” aki praises you, accentuating each word with a deep thrust into your sweet spot. “keep your mouth open wide for me then, wanna make sure you swallow all of it.” and then he does it again, spitting his warm saliva into your mouth while you reach down and rub your clit. it’s too much, way too much. you have to rub this one out before you swallow. you’re fingers are frantic against your clit while you keep your mouth open for aki, so he can see you’re savouring his spit like a good girl.

“gon- gonna cu’” you try to say, slurring with your mouth wide open. your orgasm hits you right as aki sets a faster, brutal pace with his cock, fucking you through your peak as your own fingers rub desperately at your little bundle of nerves. you’re a mess but aki keeps fucking you through each contraction, only slowing when you start to whimper from overstimulation. even now, thoroughly fucked out and still pulsing, you refuse to waste his spit.

and aki hasn’t forgotten. he’s staring at your mouth, reaching up to brush a finger against your cheek. “swallow for me?” he asks, commands, they’re the same thing with aki.

and when you do —swallow his spit down and open your mouth wide to show him that you haven’t wasted a single drop— aki rewards you with a kiss, rough and demanding and just a little desperate. reminding you that he hasn’t finished and no, neither have you. not yet for tonight.

“open that mouth up again, baby. gonna see how many times i can make you cum while you hold my spit in your mouth.”

[notiddygothgf]

4. Taste Like Nicotine

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Go back to Himeno. ❞ ❝ No. That's not what you want. ❞

★ c.w.: suggestive themes, drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HELLO AGAIN MY POOKIE DOOKIES!! IM BACK AGAIN. bc i have nothing better to do atm and i wanted to give yall a lil sum sum before i moved away to uni. please excuse the pacing of this chapter -- this fanfic was supposed to be a oneshot and uh... now its 160 pages in google docs LMFAOOA.. things get spicy in this chapterrr! so yeah anyway, you know the drill, keep me entertained -- keep your funny little comments coming, I absolutely love reading them. You guys motivate me to keep going! Love yall

★ w.c.;4.1k

shameless ; chapter index

THE OFFICE WAS QUIET, the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustling of papers the only sounds that broke the silence. You were alone, finishing up some last-minute paperwork after hours. The mission had gone surprisingly well—no casualties, a rare feat in your line of work. The team had even managed to kill a large Devil containing a piece of Gun Devil Flesh, a significant victory. Yet, instead of joining the others to celebrate, you had chosen to stay behind. Partly to avoid any awkward encounters with Himeno, but mostly because you felt restless, unable to shake off the events of the past few days.

As you finished up the last of your reports, you glanced at the new message on your phone.

HIMENO| you didn't come tonight.

Typing...

YOU

| I didn't think you'd wanna see me after the stunt I pulled.

HIMENO| I dont, but I wanted u to know that everyone is talking abt u

YOU

| ??

| wym

HIMENO

| your shadow didn't come tonight, either.

Typing...

YOU| look, himeno, ive actually been wanting to talk to you about that

| would you be able to meet up and talk it out?

HIMENO| id rather not honestly.

| ur a grown woman and i cant stop u from doing what u want

| but just know that people in pb. safety talk

| dont mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for aki

| u should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs

YOU| I understand that I've hurt you, Himeno, and I'm sorry

| I have no intentions of being with Aki.

HIMENO| good

| dont get him mixed up in ur fucked up marriage

|  he doesnt deserve that.

You sighed, pocketing your phone. There were certain battles you simply couldn't win. This would undoubtedly be one of them.

It was late, and you knew you should head home. You gathered your things and made your way down the dimly lit hallways, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

As you passed the breakroom, you heard voices. One familiar voice, more specifically.

You slowed your pace, not wanting to intrude but curious enough to catch a snippet of the conversation. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see two figures inside.

"You look desperate, dude," the unknown person said, barely audible. "It's not attractive."

"I'm becoming ridiculous," Captain Hayakawa said, his voice low and strained. "I'm losing hope."

"Hope of what? Convincing a married woman to break her vows?" the other person retorted, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

Are they talking about me? You asked. You knew the answer. You simply did not want to confront it.

Hayakawa sighed. "I thought she would call me by now," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice making your stomach churn uncomfortably. "I just... there was something there."

There was a pause, then the other person sighed, his voice softening. "God, you are ridiculous." After a moment, he added, almost reluctantly, "Shit, sorry, man. I know you like her."

"No, you're right," He replied, a note of resignation following his words. "She doesn't want to speak to me. I'm driving myself crazy waiting for someone who's never gonna call."

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, guilt and confusion swirling together. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn't just walk away without feeling a pang of something—regret, perhaps? The slip of paper with his number, still in your possession, weighed heavily in your mind. You had been avoiding the situation, avoiding him, and now it was clear how much it had affected him.

Aki's words echoed in your ears as you stood frozen in the hallway.

He was right; you hadn't called him. You hadn't even acknowledged the note, too caught up in your own turmoil and guilt to consider his feelings. Now, hearing him speak so openly, you felt a rush of emotions—sympathy, guilt, confusion. There had been a moment between you, an undeniable spark, but you had chosen to ignore it, to pretend it didn't exist.

When would it all come crashing down – your efforts? This whole situation?

The conversation in the breakroom continued, but you couldn't listen any longer. You turned away, your heart pounding. As you made your way to the exit, you couldn't help but replay Aki's words in your mind.

He had been waiting for you, hoping you would reach out, and now he was losing hope. Fuck.

He had been waiting for me.

The idea thrilled you, for some strange reason. Maybe because you hadn't felt desired like this in years – it made your head spin. But another part of you was terrified—of what it might mean, of the complications it would bring, of the impact on your marriage.

You couldn't help yourself. You did what you always did. You ran away from him.

You knew you couldn't avoid him forever, but for now, you needed time to think. .

7:45 PM

Typing... 

Hey. |

Typing...

Hello, |

Typing...

How are you? |

Typing...

Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party. I think you should be there.

SENT.

YOU | Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party.

I think you should be there.

| At the Sip-n-savor in downtown Tokyo

Seen 8:00 PM .

The night went on without a flaw. The atmosphere was infectious, and you had been trying to let loose, drink in hand, as you chatted and danced with the others. But as the night wore on, a sense of unease settled in. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the memories of the overheard conversation in the breakroom, or maybe it was the subtle disappointment that someone hadn't shown up.

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the bathroom. The mirror reflected your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged makeup. You sighed, turning on the faucet and splashing some water on your face. As you washed your hands, you found yourself thinking about Aki.

Despite everything, a depraved part of you had hoped to see him tonight. You had been both relieved and disappointed when he hadn't shown up—relieved because it meant avoiding an awkward conversation, disappointed because you had been... well, actually looking forward to seeing him.

As you touched up your makeup, you couldn't help but reflect on your own conflicted feelings. You were married, committed, and yet, Aki had stirred something in you that you simply couldn't stand to ignore. It was confusing, disorienting. You weren't sure what you felt more strongly: guilt for being drawn to him or frustration that you couldn't just let it go.

"Ugh," You groaned, pressing your forehead against the sink. "'M g'nna be sick."

Feeling a bit lightheaded from the drinks, you decided to step outside for some fresh air. You left the bathroom and – completely drunk – maneuvered through the crowds to the nearest door.

The cool night breeze was a welcome relief against your warm skin, and you leaned against the balcony railing, taking deep breaths. The city lights twinkled below, and you watched them in a daze, trying to steady your thoughts.

That's when you saw him.

Aki was just entering the party, his sharp suit and dark hair making him stand out immediately. You felt your heart skip a beat. Then another. He was killing you.

He came, you thought, a strange mix of emotions flooding you. Relief, excitement, and that persistent undercurrent of guilt all tangled together.

He spotted you almost immediately and made his way over. As he approached, you couldn't help but think how painfully gorgeous he looked, the dim lighting casting a soft glow on his features. In that moment, he seemed almost like a knight in shining armor, a figure out of place in the lively, chaotic setting of the bar.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice smooth and warm, a balm to your nerves.

"Hey," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, a slight concern in his tone. "You're not cold?"

He always seemed to be worried about you and the weather. Still, the chill felt nice against your hot skin, oddly enough.

I missed you, you didn't say. You didn't even think about it. You knew that in a day you would be back on the train and all of this would just be a bad dream, anyway.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "No, I just needed some air. It's a bit stuffy in there."

Aki didn't respond immediately, and when you turned your head up to look at him, his expression was unreadable. The noise from inside the bar seemed distant, the world narrowing down to just the two of you in that moment. You felt a tug in your chest, a pull towards him that you couldn't explain, couldn't deny.

"Did you pregame the bar, or something?" You laughed quietly. It felt nice, being able to pretend nothing had ever happened between the two of you and just... enjoy each other's company. "You smell like beer."

"I was having a few drinks with my roommate before you texted me," He answered. Then, looking out onto the street, he added, "He told me I shouldn't come tonight. Said you're driving me crazy."

"So, why are you here, then?" You asked.

He looked at you. "I think you know why I'm here."

There was a brief silence, comfortable yet charged with the unspoken. You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes lingered on you, soft but searching. It was the same look he had given you in the seminar, the museum, everywhere else, and it stirred something deep inside you.

You hated the way he made you feel.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked you. His voice was as deep and rich as ever, and you had about half a mind to take him up on the offer.

You shivered. You knew it wasn't from the cold air. It was him – the smell of him, his cologne, the distinct scent of nicotine that let you know he had just finished smoking a cigarette. It was an aroma so unique to him that you had grown to like it.

You were looking at his lips before you knew it, giving way to a craving you couldn't explain, "I'll try a cigarette, if you have any."

He smiled softly, reaching into his pocket and flipping open a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. He placed a cancer stick between your lips, and you felt a part of you die a little. He struck the wheel of the lighter, bringing the cigarette to life.

You coughed so hard that you nearly hacked up a lung. It had been years since your last cigarette.

Hayakawa stepped behind you, cupping a hand around your elbow, sliding it up your arm, your wrist, your fingers before he plucked the cigarette from your digits.

"First time?" He asked, warm voice hot against your neck.

"Wanted to give it a try," You shrugged. You didn't know what, exactly, had gotten into you. It seemed that with every sip of liquor you took lately, you crept closer and closer back to your old self. The sort of liquid courage that made people make very bad decisions. "Sorry. I'm a little," You waved your hands around yourself, trying to gesture 'drunk' without actually saying it.

"How brave of you," He murmured, pulling a hit from your cigarette and exhaling. He was the picture of sin – face flushed with alcohol, messy bangs, pink lips wrapped around a cancer stick. He was so pretty it hurt.

"I'll try it again when I'm sober," You offered.

"When?" He asked, breathing smoke out into the air. "Where?"

As persistent as always, you thought. Still, you didn't necessarily mind the attention anymore. You told yourself that it didn't matter – you would be out of here soon anyway, and everything would be far behind you before you knew it.

"Why is it that every time I'm inebriated... God tests me by throwing you in my way?" You laughed, Truly, you wished you had considered the implications of your words a little more before you had said them. "Just as I thought your manners had improved since the party. You behaved badly, then. You know that? Very badly," you hiccuped. "You should be ashamed of yourself, throwing– hic–throwing yourself at a married woman like that."

He didn't acknowledge your drunken ramblings, and he also didn't deny the fact that he had been doing exactly that – throwing himself at a married woman.

"Hardly my fault," He breathed out. "I just can't seem to resist you."

"Don't worry," You replied, eyeing him up dubiously as he pulled another hit from what was left of your cigarette. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Won't have to worry about resisting me after that."

"I know," He answered back. "Selfishly enough, I spent the last few hours wishing your train got delayed one more day, or something like that," He exhaled, then snuffed his cigarette out on the balcony, "Still, I'm glad I could see you before you went home."

"I wish I could say the same about you," You replied before you could stop the words from coming out.

He poked his tongue through the inside of his cheek, retorting, "You're gonna sit here and act like you didn't invite me? Like your eyes didn't light up like a child when you saw me pull up?" He turned around, commanding even more of your attention, standing at least a foot and a half taller than you. "You wanted me to come tonight."

It was true. That's the worst part. Everything he said was the truth.

"So that I could say goodbye," You said with remarkable finality, "I'm leaving after this."

You hadn't originally planned on leaving so soon, of course, but you wanted to get the hell out of here before you made another bad decision.

"Already?" He asked.

"You're the one who ran late," You replied. "This ends tonight. I'm going to say bye to everyone else, then I'll be gone."

With that being said, you made your way back to the door. You would go inside, bid everyone farewell, collect your belongings, and then–

He called your name before you could go back inside. You froze in place.

"Am I misreading the signals?" He asked.

You sighed, turning around one last time to clear the air, "This has to stop, Aki. You make me feel like... like I'm guilty of something."

He implored you, "What do you want me to do?"

"Go back to Himeno," You answered, a biting undertone seeping through your words. You were undeniably bitter about the whole situation, and under any other circumstances, you would have tried to be a good sport, but...

Himeno's words were a heavy weight on your heart.

'Don't mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for Aki.'

'You should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs."

You could never be what Aki wanted. He wanted all of you – not just a week of you, clearly. You were married, and you couldn't let all of that go over a guy you'd been toeing the line with for what seemed like ages.

He was a young man. The fact of the matter was that you were a grown woman. A married one.

"She's a sweet, kind woman," You continued. You felt like you were going to be sick just being near him. Unknowingly, tears began to prickle at the corners of your eyes. "Go back and beg her to forgive you. Go be with someone who wants to be with you. Who can be with you."

"No," He answered simply. There was an intensity in his eyes that frightened you, like he would die without you, as he continued, "That's not what you want. I think we both know that. I refused a mission in Hiroshima to stay here with you. I planned to let go of another one in Beijing," He swallowed, "I can change my mind, and you'll never see me again."

"If you have any consideration for me," Your voice was a shuddering whisper, like someone could walk out any minute and hear the two of you going back and forth. "Any semblance– a shrivel of compassion, you'll give me back my peace."

He shook his head, "I can't. You know I can't. You've consumed every inch of my peace, every inch of my mind. How can I give you your peace?"

Fair point.

You had nothing to say to him. So, silently, your vision blurred with tears, you glared at him. Glared and frowned like that would make you believe he was the sole contributor to this issue. Then, again, you turned on your heel and went for the door. You entered the bar quickly.

He followed not too long after you, "I'll go to Beijing, then."

"No." You said. Your teary-eyed fury caught the eyes of more than a few confused bar patrons. "I don't want you to go."

Everyone was looking at you. Seriously, everyone. Your old coworkers, the bartenders, everybody.

You swallowed down your pride, bowing down before them all. "Good night, everyone," You said. You plucked your purse and your jacket off of the barstool. "Thank you for everything. I'm leaving."

Ignoring the confused looks and hushed whispers from the patrons, you exited the bar, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. The rain had started to fall, a soft drizzle quickly turning into a steady downpour. You barely noticed, too wrapped up in the turmoil inside your head. The cold, wet sensation of the rain soaked through your clothes, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just needed to get away, to clear your mind.

But of course, Aki followed after you. You could hear him calling your name, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. You quickened your pace, almost running, your heels splashing through puddles as you made your way down the block. His footsteps pounded behind you, matching your speed. You couldn't escape him, couldn't outrun him.

Finally, he caught up to you, grabbing your arm to stop you. "Wait, can we please talk?" he pleaded, his voice breathless and desperate.

You turned to face him, rain pouring down around you both. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his suit jacket soaked through. The intensity in his eyes matched the storm, a fierce determination that made your heart ache. You met his gaze begrudgingly, not wanting to deal with this, not wanting to deal with him.

"Have I really been imagining all of this?" He asked. He sounded broken. "Is it really all in my head? Tell me if it's a lie. Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me you mean it—all of it," he paused, taking a shuddering breath. "Or tell me the truth."

You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation crashing down on you. "I don't know how to feel, Aki," you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm trying to be good, but you just keep fucking—popping up everywhere. And you say these pretty things to me, and," You choked back a sob, struggling to find the right words. "I can't help myself around you."

"Running from your problems won't make me go away," he said, stepping forward to put his hands gently on your waist.

There was a long pause as you stood there in the rain, staring at each other. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you. The storm, the bar, everything else was just a blur. You were tired—tired of running, tired of the confusion, tired of pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

He added, "You can't run from your feelings."

This time, it was his eyes that dropped to your lips. His tongue darted out to dampen his own, and then his eyes flicked up to your face. When he spoke, his voice was huskier than before, as if it had been tainted by an emotion that hadn't been there before. Was it lust? Passion? Whatever it was, you wanted more of it.

Your eyes widened. Your mouth had run dry. You didn't know what to say. Even being like this right now -- as close as you were, -- was against your wedding vows. This was wrong, and you couldn't do that to your own husband.

Your own husband who loved you so dearly.

Your own husband who left you hanging so many nights on end.

Your own husband, who acted as if he couldn't care if you lived or died.

As if he had sensed your train of thought wandering, Aki placed two fingers beneath your chin, lifting your face up until he was the captor of all of your attention. Him and him alone. Not your husband, but him.

"I could treat you like a princess," His eyes wandered down to your lips again, but this time there was an unspoken hunger within them. "All you have to do is ask, and I'm yours. I already am."

And, God, what a fool you had been in uttering the words, "Don't toy with my emotions. You don't want me."

He paused, awaiting something, anything. His eyes pleaded with your own, luring you in with promises of pleasure and happiness. Gently, he grabbed your hand, placing it over his breast, right above his heart.

"I want you so badly it hurts," He breathed, "For a night, for a day, for a week..." Aki closed the gap between the two of you – brought your faces closer together. Closer, until you could feel the warmth of his calm breath fanning out against your cheek. Closer, until he uttered, "As long as you'll let me have you."

"Aki, I can't-...." You paused. Yet, still, you never moved. Your body betrayed your words, dilated pupils and trembling hands giving way to your internal dilemma. "This is wrong. You know I can't do this."

You were being a hypocrite. You knew you were. One spare glance down at the placement of your hands on his chest -- one over his breast and one looped around his tie -- and you knew he could tell you were only putting up a front.

"I know," he murmured softly, words practically dying beneath the volume of the rain, "But I can't stop thinking about you."

You folded. Your eyes dropped down to his lips one last time, and that's when you knew he had already won.

Fuck it.

"Fuck you," you muttered, feeling a surge of reckless abandon.

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips against his in a desperate, frenzied kiss. It was messy and wet, your tears mixing with the rain, your hands tangling in his hair as his arms finally wrapped around you.

The kiss was filled with all the pent-up emotions, the longing, the frustration, the desire. It was passion, it was anger – it was tongue and teeth and lips smearing your lipstick over the lower half of your face. It was two black holes finally colliding after circling around each other far too long.

"I can't make sense of it. I want... you," you sighed, pulling away, voice trembling, "I don't know what any of this means anymore. I don't know what to think."

"Then don't," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. He tasted like cigarette smoke, beer and mint gum – a flavor so utterly addicting that you couldn't seem to get enough of it. "Don't think. Let me take you back to your room."

You hesitated, the reality of the situation hitting you. This was crossing a line, a line you couldn't uncross. But as you looked into his eyes, saw the same turmoil reflected back at you, you felt your resolve crumble.

You were tired of pretending.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. It was a final, resigned acceptance, the last nail in the coffin of your restraint.

You were tired of running from the inevitable.

a/n: dont hate me. LMFAOAOAOOAOA. i had to! i absolutely loved writing this chapter and i loved writing tipsy obsessed aki. i headcannon that he's a touchy needy bf and no one can tell me otherwise. i think you all know what happens next. im not sayin nothin tho. hehe. ANYWAYYYYY LMK WHAT YALL THOUGHTTTTT i look forward to hearing it!!! lmk what yall wanna see in the next few chapters/over the course of the story. and if youve already watched anna karenina (or read, in which case... how...) shhhhhh youve seen nothing. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[rainncoater]

hi im new this is my intro post now

HI TUMBLR, I go by Rainn

I'm rainncoater, short for rainncoat eater (i actually hate the rain, i hate raincoats and i do not own one. santa claus isn't real. believe nothing on the internet 💔)

SOCIALS

@rainncoater-art is my art-only sideblog

@rainncoater for art on instagram

i don't formally post anywhere else.

BLOG TAGS

#rainn art - my art

#rainn's shenanigans - miscellaneous things

#rainn rambles - longer posts if i want to yap about something

#rainn answers - responding to tags or asks

as of right now this blog is a purely an art + tumblr fun blog.

BEFORE U INTERACT:

I curse a lot (no slurs except 'queer')

I make stupid sex jokes occasionally and mention genitalia (nothing actually sexual)

I draw nude(-ish) bodies occasionally but no sexual implications

I post vent art occasionally that may have triggering implications but I don't like to get too specific about my personal life (all tagged TW)

given this info interact however ur comfortable with, no pressure <3

MY INTERESTS

hobbies:

art: duh. it's funny bc i'm ok at 2D mediums but i have no patience for any other art form (but they are very cool and i have a lot of respect for them)

rollerblading: if u know me irl feel free to ask me to skate w/ u! i can also ice skate but i enjoy rollerblading more

gym: im kinda a gym newbie (7 months-ish) but its my current hyperfixation 💀 tbh its my emotional regulation tool bc i cant get therapy rn so im quiiiite dependent on it lmao

music: one of those things im quite into but i dont know how to talk abt LMAO. my fav genres are alt metal, rock and shoegaze, but i actually like a lot, i can PROB find smth i like within ur stuff LOL. i had a massive jpop/jrock/vocaloid phase and i currently like a lot of electronic stuff too.

topics i enjoy:

GAY SHIT (any queer topics)

gender shit (both cis and trans! just general gender things and how it runs in society lmfao)

adhd & general neurodivergence (as an adhd-haver)

a daily dose of existentialism

general psychology sociology things :)

mental health

gym...

things i think are cool (but know nothing on):

ROBOTS

mechanical things

space and stars and the like

fandoms:

chainsaw man IS BATSHIT INSANE and actually really fucking deep.. i love it so much... denji power and aki my fav found siblings :,)

GHIBLI MY CHILDHOOD. I WILL GIVE! U! RECS!

pokemon :,D i only mostly watched x&y as a kid so i'm mostly out of the loop but it's a franchise i hold to my heart dearly

hollow knight is so fucking cool. i will finish it... someday...

animal jam another childhood classic. i play every once in a blue moon, i rly like making outfits there.. #2016 player

thanks for reading <3

[lovemeafterhrs]

warnings: self indulgent, hinted csm spoilers. nsfw under the cut

aki hayakawa, who’s done devil hunting the moment he finds out that you’re pregnant. that baby would end up saving your lives in more ways than either of you could understand.

aki hayakawa, who steps up as a father even though you two had never been anything more than a one-night stand. he makes up his mind the day he finds out, and never looks back once. 

aki hayakawa, who has nothing to live for before he hears the words “i’m pregnant.” he finds a new purpose in becoming a father, and would do anything to protect his chance at giving up devil hunting for good. 

aki hayakawa, who gives up his revenge so he can live long enough to see his child grow up. he doesn’t care if makima skins him alive for it, he’ll do anything he can just to see a fraction of his little girl’s life. 

aki hayakawa, who knows he’s running on limited time. there’s no place he’d rather spend his last two years besides being with you. he’ll take advantage of every moment he has left. 

aki hayakawa, who’s main goal in life is to be happy for the rest of his time. the gun devil is far out of his sights, even though he’d do anything to avenge his family before. it doesn’t matter, he assures you. my parents would want me to raise my daughter, not die at the hands of the same devil they did. 

aki hayakawa, who thanks a god that he doesn’t believe in late at night, after your eyes fall shut. the future devil had told him of a horrific end, and now he’s determined to change his fate while he still can.

aki hayakawa, who just wants to have a family to come home to. he doesn’t want to lose anyone close to him ever again. 

the same aki hayakawa that has a diamond ring sitting in his pocket the day he puts in his resignation. he’s nervous to give it to you, too. his eyes shine with the same determination you used to see on the battlefield when he gets down on one knee. 

aki hayakawa, who loves how you look carrying his child. it drives him crazy, actually. he can’t go ten minutes without rubbing his hands over your baby bump. you’ve got his dick hard in his pants from existing alone, and he makes sure that you know just how beautiful you are as he thrusts into you gently. 

aki hayakawa, who has become entranced with the idea of stuffing his beautiful, pregnant wife with his cum. something stirs deep inside of him every time he watches you wobble to the kitchen, and in a moment he’s behind you running kisses up and down your neck as you chop up veggies for dinner. 

aki hayakawa, who loves the idea of a child running around who looks just like him. when your child is born, you can see the glimmer of hope shining in his dark blue eyes. the same stormy shade of midnight sparkles in your daughter’s irises, too. 

aki hayakawa, who ropes your old coworkers into babysitting, knowing your little girl will be safe in the hands of a fellow devil hunter. all so he can have a moment alone with you, of course. 

aki hayakawa, who adores the way that “my wife” rolls off his tongue. he’ll bring you up at any opportunity just to say it, even though he doesn’t talk very much to begin with. 

aki hayakawa, who loves your daughter more than anything in this entire world, except maybe you. 

baby-daddy aki lives rent free in my noggin

[mariabrightmoon]

Arcane angsty theory

What if Vander end up killed by both his daughters ?

First by accident by Powder

Then by Vi who won't recognise him in Warwick and think its just a monster on the scientist side.

Pls how angsty would it be? Now it's more a personal AU than a theory ig cause I don't think it ll happen

So if there s a fanfic like that, pls tell me

Especially that:

role inversion in arcane

It's really interesting when character inverted roles and positions, something I love doing to my OCs (sorry Aki</3 )

We know by teasers that Vi ll join enforcers which means undercity ll probably see her as a traitor. In conclusion, she loose them.

Plus she ll never really fit in Piltover, especially if she refuses to obey (like refuses to fight Jinx or Ekko)

Which means she ll end up misfit and alone... exactly like Powder was.

Which reminds us of when teen Vi used to say "one day, this city s gonna respect us" in season 1 arc 1.

Now it hit even harder knowing Vi s potential as a teen. Its like this high achieving tkid trope that happens to us all neurodivergents irl

Like saw those on tiktok

Now the question is: how jinx end up as a symbol, a hero? And how she changed?

I saw a loooot of people expecting Jinx to get even more destructive in season 2 (that she s fully jinx now, that powder in her was totally gone)

But given how Zaunites depict Jinx, it looks like the total opposite:

First we got a litteral structure of her

Then the mural from the teaser video that we still don't know who did it but clearly see she has followers dying their blue like her :

It s not just abt followers. Jinx is allowing strangers to touch her when she clearly flinched at physical touchs in season 1 due to ptsd

So s2 ll be about Jinx healing

Now there s also this depiction of Jinx where:

She is surrounded by white colombes in contrast to her association with black crows and ravens in season 1

She s in a historical pose

She s drawn next to Vander

Role inverse again: now Jinx is seen as Vander s heir instead of Vi

Ofc in contrast to:

[angeldeviloshi]

I'm thinking about Future's contract with Aki again. And the fact that he saw Aki's "worst death" which took place BECAUSE of Aki seeing that vision and going to Angel Devil and then the beach... not to mention the many times he survived up till that point due to Future's contract.

Makes me wonder about the linearity of the future the Future Devil sees. Especially accounting for the contracts he's had with the other devil hunters before Aki.

If we assume that the future is fixed and Future is simply witnessing Aki living out his worst death after they've established his contract, not to mention the fact Future said he determines the terms of the contract based on what he sees in his contractor's future... then he likely agrees to contracts and asks for the according payment he sees based on whether or not he likes what he saw, almost like casting himself in a film he likes.

That Future himself is both the audience and a subtle auteur in Aki's eye... That Aki played his part as an audience surrogate as the "normal guy" while framing the narrative of part 1 to us through his selective lens until the moment of his death when the true nature of the narrative is revealed.

But the future "can't be changed" and I wonder about the futility of it experienced by the Future Devil too, he can provide the means to influence someone's fate with his power and contract, but they ultimately lead down a single outcome, what he sees is one future that he has yet to partake in but nonetheless involves him in the role he plays in determining where it goes.

And the fact that only two devil hunters besides Aki managed to get a contract with him... kinda implies that Future likely saw his involvement in their futures too w this line of thought and that this is a rare occurence for him. That the two other devil hunters would live a future without half their lifespan and the physical sense they sacrificed as payment because of him. That this future exists with him in it.

But if the future isn't fixed, and I kinda talked a bit abt this in my other Future Devil thread, then he may have looked into a plethora of possible futures and settled for the one leading to Aki's "worst death" the power he provides not one that branches his future but one that nips those branches. Aki's "worst death" as his "most interesting, compelling, dramatic death". The death that reverberates into part 2 through Denji. (Side note but Future resembling a tree adds a whole other layer of symbolism to Denji and Aki's arcs in the context of their family and the chainsaw, the pruning of the cycle as narrative inevitability)

This is super fun to think about on a meta level for canon divergence ideas, Future has a lot to dig into with this. But also just how these implications affect part 2 as far as the prophecy is concerned. Cuz I'm currently of the idea that the Church may be enacting a self-fulfilling prophecy in order to combat it.

That the Church represents CSM's fandom and its exploit of youth with passion and arms in exchange for their body and devotion, (what Aki himself was under PS and Makima) that Aki's fate forms the cornerstone of this fandom. That Denji is tangled between this violence and family bc of his ghost of family that he inherited from Aki's. The ouroboros of p2's narrative bled over from p1.

Cosmos's quote to Santa about everything running its course too, much to think about.

But even just the fact that Future and Cosmos are devils, born from human concepts which in turn bring these concepts to life and altering reality, then used by humans...

This is what I think about Death too, and the self-fulfilling prophecy angle of the apocalypse. The tree people could potentially be one of the four fates besides death that Pochita erased, tho that might clash with Pochita's erasure abilities thru his stomach being intact even in Aging's world despite Aging's world disabling devil powers.