#pink cat behaviour in this case(?

[creaseevans]

Jujutsu Kaisen Headcanons - Suguru Geto

Suguru's the type of guy...

SFW: 

Suguru’s the soccer/hockey mom type of guy: he carries snacks, band aids, ibuprofen, tissues, gum, hair ties, and a spare set of socks in his bag at all times. That’s actually how you met him: you were at the coffee shop and asked several tables around you for a band aid (after the barista said they didn’t have any) until Suguru came over with one. He also offered a couple of alcohol swabs to clean things off before applying it.

Suguru’s the type of guy to forget to introduce himself. He gets so engrossed in the person in front of him and what they’re saying that he completely forgets how social interactions are supposed to go. You had to ask him at some point what you’re supposed to call him. He had to think about it for a moment as if he’d forgotten his own name.

(After chatting for almost an hour, he asked yours and you, very forwardly, also gave him your number.)

He’s the type of guy who drinks anything BUT plain coffee with milk and sugar, you conclude by the fourth date. The man will drink matcha, he will drink hot cocoa, he will drink iced or warm lattes with butt loads of cold foam or sweet syrups drizzled throughout, and he will drink LOTS of fruity teas. But a plain coffee with just milk and sugar may actually kill him?

Not only is Suguru the type of guy to paint his own nails, but he also insisted on teaching you after discovering how badly you do the edges (it’s hard!!!!). He likes for you both to have matching or complimentary manicures. It’s also a complete waste that he taught you how to paint because he never lets you do it and always wants to do your manicures and pedicures himself. Sunday nights are for the fingies and toes.

(Coincidentally, he HATES the smell of polish and remover. He has to wear a clip on his nose the entire time that makes his voice all high and nasally.)

Suguru is that guy with a seven-step skincare and five-step hair care routine. You can’t even describe the face he made upon discovering your simple shampoo-and-conditioner, face wash-and-moisturizer antics. But you do wish you’d taken a picture of it.

He totally forgets to eat sometimes. You wonder how it’s possible for him to be the size and height he is if this has always been the case. That is until you share your first real dinner together and he eats nearly five thousand calories in one sitting. He then proceeds to finish your leftovers as well. When you ask him about this deranged behaviour, he just shrugs and says, “I don’t know. I love food, but I don’t really think about it unless it’s in front of me.”

Suguru hasn’t worked out in a gym in almost two years, apparently. He just does runs and “generic labour” at the farm he works at. The solid abs and bouldered deltoids he hides underneath baggy clothes would beg to differ.

Suguru is a total plant princess. The first time you went to his place, you weren’t sure if it wasn’t a greenhouse. Potted wonders and vines and vases were all over the place. This came as even more earth-shattering when a little white cat tinkered her way through the hall and snuggled her butt right up against your ankles. “Oh, no, she knocks things over all the time. But I can’t exactly get mad at her, so I just re-pot everything. That’s why all of these are melamine or recycled plastic.”

That’s another thing about Suguru: he has tremendous amounts of patience. You’ve never met anyone as kind or forgiving as him. You’ve asked him to share his meditation routine with you but he keeps lying about not having one.

(The cat’s name is Dandelion; Dandy for short. She’s a white domestic short-hair with blue eyes and a pink button nose.)

Suguru’s a very formal type of guy. You didn’t expect it, but he took you out on a proper date and verbally said the words “Will you be my girlfriend?” and then proceeded to clarify with “Like, romantically. Not like a friend who’s also a girl—which is totally fine, if that’s what you prefer to be, I just—” and that’s when you cut him off with a kiss and he settled down.

He’s the type of guy to love openly and quickly. It’s less than two months in when he just casually drops an “I love you” on you one morning as you’re on the toilet and he dips his head in to grab a hair brush. Then he simply leaves you to marinate in it while you sit there in shock, unmoving except for the plop-plop-plop in the toilet.

In contrast to how casually he’s able to deliver the sentiment, he’s entirely floored when you return it in bed that same night. He’s so taken that he stops moving and has to wait a moment to get it back together. But after that one still moment, the rest of it feels like you’re being attacked by a tornado.

Suguru’s the type of guy to leave “I love you” sticky notes by your bedside or on your door. One time, you decided to keep the note and stuck it on something at his place before leaving. It was returned to you on your laptop the next day. It’s now become a sort of game between you; sometimes the notes get passed back and forth so long that the adhesive on the back completely dissipates. After writing a new one, you both toss a coin to decide who gets to keep the old one. Suguru’s won seven out of ten tosses, so far.

He’s not the type to gloat when he wins. Somehow, he finds a way to turn his wins into yours. Like how he ended up with most of the old “I love you” post-its but folded them into paper flowers and put them on artificial stems. He gave you the bouquet on your one-year anniversary. You bawled like a little bitch.

Suguru hates seeing you cry or hurt. It’s the only time you’ve seen him distressed. It makes him physically sick and you can tell by how pale and sweaty he gets. He banks his sick days at work since you started dating. Every month when you get your period, Suguru hibernates at your place with you for the first three days because he knows they’re the hardest. He cooks for you, keeps you showered and clean, massages you, naps with you, cleans for you, and he’s at your general beck and call otherwise. Your favourite part is always ordering in impulsive cravings and watching your favourite shows or movies. You also enjoy breaking into the piggy bank of sweets and candy he saves up for you all month.

He’s the type to slowly move you both in together without your ever realizing. Roughly a year in, you discovered just how much of your stuff was now filling in his otherwise spacious new place. The only things left at your apartment were a few pairs of clothes and your mattress (everything else was part of the owner’s furnishings). This little scheme dawned on you when your lease was up and instead of helping you look for another place, Suguru conveniently chimed, “Oh, why don’t you just stay with me? All your stuff’s here anyways.”

(As formal as he is, turns out he was too shy to ask you to move in. He thought giving you a key to his place as a Christmas present was a big enough hint and has no idea how you didn’t clock it. You tell him you would have said yes if he’d just asked. He just blushes and smiles.)

Suguru is a big tipper at restaurants and cafes. He often tips more than the actually meal or drink costs. You fear this may have detrimental effects on his finances, but he somehow manages to keep things running more than smoothly. Suspiciously smoothly.

Turns out, he doesn’t just work at the farm. He actually (very successfully, too) co-owns it with his best friend Satoru, which leads to the next point: Suguru’s just the type of guy to downplay exactly how well he’s doing or how much he has. (He has a lot.)

Since he wakes up ridiculously early most mornings to tend to farmwork, Suguru’s the type of guy to cook you an elaborate, three course breakfast each time and leave it covered in the oven with a note on the door for you to enjoy. Meanwhile, he shoots back a creamy, sugary beverage or two and just raw dogs the rest of the day on an empty stomach until the late lunch or dinner you share together. You’re trying to help him remember to eat more often, so you’ve started packing him just as elaborate lunches and snack packs at night once he’s gone to bed. You have to text or call him to remind him to actually eat out of them. He always enjoys them when he does.

NSFW:

Suguru takes his sweet time initiating sex for the first time. Upon reaching week four of the relationship with not a lick of intimacy, you had to break the ice on the subject. Suguru was surprised, then laughed it off. “No, I’m not asexual. I just didn’t want to weird you out or get right into sex without your deliberate consent.”

(You gave it to him instantly.)

Since his middle name is basically serenity, you were a bit worried as to how the sex would go. You don’t altogether mind the notion of “love making,” but you’re also not a purely vanilla person by nature.

Suguru’s generously girthy and lands in the seven-inch range. He’s uncut and always shaves everything clean off. You’ve never seen a crotch as hairless as his. There’s a thick vein that runs from below his belly button, down his beautifully carved pelvis and right up the length of his shaft. You like tracing it with your tongue and watching his reactions. He gets real breathy and sensitive about it.

Suguru can last a while, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take the time to service you in at least two to three other ways before finally giving you what you want. He’s quite the skilled tradesman with both his tongue and his hands, but you prefer his long, knuckly fingers over the former. Something about the veins and muscles in his arms when he endlessly plunges palm-deep inside of you drives you right over the edge. While he’s quite humble otherwise, getting you to orgasm is one thing he’s quite smug about. The way he smirks when you fall apart for him is absolutely sadistic.

Contrary to his soft, silky personality and demeanour, he’s quite the devil in arms behind closed doors. (Sometimes, those doors aren’t even closed.) 

He’s a biter (genuinely shocking). He likes to mark you in places where nobody would be able to see it and find out just how rough and territorial your sweet, doting boyfriend truly is. Such places include your back, your tits (specifically, right around your nipples), the plush of inner thigh right at the apex of your legs, the outer skinfolds right next to your “perfectly suckable lips” (no, NOT your mouth), and all over the meat of your ass.  

Suguru doesn’t eat pussy; he makes out with it. He French kisses and has an affair with it. Just let him do it and expect to be there for the better part of an hour, probably. Nothing you say or do can deter him from his “favourite meal in the whole world.”

He has no problem putting you in your place when it comes to sex. It’s genuinely some alter ego type shit. The change is a complete 180, to the point that you sometimes feel like you’re cheating on your amazing, loving boyfriend with some sex-crazed maniacal psychopath that leaves you shuddering and unable to stand on your feet for a good few hours afterwards without buckling knees or trembling thighs. The only part that reminds you they’re the same person is when he gently cleans you up afterwards and apologetically kisses all the places where he’d bit, clawed, smacked or choked only moments ago. The comedown is nearly as thrilling as the experience itself.

Suguru loves mocking and demeaning you with simultaneously praiseworthy titles. Phrases like “My precious little whore,” “Perfect fucking slut,” or “My stupidly pretty princess” roll off his tongue just as easily as “My little baby,” “Good fucking girl,” and your personal favourite: “My little pussy fairy.” It’s quite the whiplash.

Suguru fucks like his life depends on it. All the calm and peace behind his foxy monolids drains the moment he realizes what’s about to happen. The fire and hunger that replaces that calm is enough to make your heart plunge down and drop out through your ass every single time regardless of how often it happens. He is not a gentle lover, and you couldn’t be more thankful for how viciously he strokes or how diligently he chokes or how shamelessly he orders you to open your mouth so he can fill it with his fingers and spit into the back of your throat while the head of his cock breaks the rim of your cervix and your eyes roll like a slot machine into your skull.

He wasn’t as vocal at first because he was shy and anxious that you would get turned off by it. Turns out, when he moans and whimpers it’s so fucking delicate that your pussy flutters just at the sounds that come out of him. While you enjoy his gruff snarls and grunts and the tone of his poetic degradation, you take every chance you can get your hands on to have him undone and vulnerable, shivering and trembling and nearly sobbing from ecstasy at the worship you deliver.

Suguru never makes you beg or ask for it. He does like to hear you say what you want, but he often readily delivers your services on a golden platter. He’s just so generous like that.

While he gets to address you with all kinds of pet names and kinky titles, he only ever wants you to call him “Suguru” between the sheets. “Baby” is too vague, and nothing else quite establishes his dominance over you the same as hearing gasps of his name over and over again while you convulse and shatter against him, so soft and weak and vulnerable that it makes his heart stop.

He makes you keep your eyes open and on him at all times. “Keep your focus on me,” “Look at what I’m doing to you, keep watching,” “Look at me with those pretty eyes, I wanna see how big they get when you come for me,” “Don’t you dare look away,” all of that. Even when you’re kissing now you’re both always looking at one another. You don’t think you can go back to kissing with your eyes closed again.

He asked you in the beginning if you want him to use condoms just so you wouldn’t have to deal with contraceptive side effects. You used them a few times before realizing how badly you wanted to just fluid bond with him. He has never complained about this; he’s ready to face any consequences, should they happen. And while he loves going to pro-choice rallies with you, he does fantasize from time to time about a little version of you running around the farm, driving him crazy with worry.

Suguru’s favourite place to come is on your face, because your face is his favourite sight in the entire world. Yes, he loves your body. But it was your nervous smile and hopeful eyes that caught his eye the very first time and kept him looking back again and again. Seeing his cum streaked across your gorgeous lips and dripping down your cheeks and chin is a mental image he frequents regularly throughout the day.

(One day, you make him lick the cum off your face and feed it to you by kiss. This changes his brain chemistry forever. You’re definitely the one.)

[brayneworms]

prompt: l lawliet + food play + pink

wc. 2.8k. gn!reader, foodplay, virgin!l, handjobs, sliiiight come eating, reader is a wet cat in a cardboard box kinda, safe sane and consensual, no real power dynamics.

L contextualises things in the way he sees the world.

Strings of numbers, statistics, behavioural patterns that he's memorised to a 'T' until he can tell guilt from the aversion of an eye or fury from the remnants of nails pressed into the palm of someone's hand. It's why maybe something like sex or desire is a struggle for him. It's not that he doesn't understand it, it's more like he doesn't see the—the need for it, or whatever. You chalk it up to him being extremely busy and also probably totally asexual and don't think about it.

(Don't think about it much.)

It sort of surprises you that it's you he corners with his questions about. Maybe he's more embarrassed than he lets on—as it is, he looks cool as a cucumber save for the faintest shade of pink across his cheekbones. There's no way he would escape a conversation about it from anyone on the squad without a degree of ragging. Misa would squeal like a pig if L dared to broach the topic with her, you're sure. Matsuda would blush bright red and trip over all his words, and Aizawa would probably stare at him like he'd set his firstborn on fire.

And Light is Light. He probably knows little more than L, for all the airs he puts on.

So it's you he comes to. When it first starts, you think it has something to do with a case or lead he's hunting. Tell me, have you had sex before?

Perched like a frog, licking whipped cream off his finger. You don't know if he's doing to be provocative or not; don't know which is worse, that he's aware of what he's doing or not.

"This isn't exactly proper workplace conversation L."

A flicker of a smile. Cheeky, omniscient. "Feel free to report me to HR, in that case."

You do answer—honestly and concisely, if not with a shade of awkwardness. He's essentially your boss. But L seems so far removed from the worlds of sexuality and desire that it seems harmless, occupational, and eventually it stops feeling embarrassing. Out of nowhere—what is the purpose of restrains in an intimate context? Why do you think some people like to feel as though they have no control in the bedroom? Would you say that visual pornography has given watchers unrealistic expectations of actual intercourse?

One night, the two of you alone in front of a big glowing screen, turning to him and asking. "Why do you ask me this stuff, anyway? Is it for a case?"

"No," he says neutrally. A quick glance from his dark eyes you could almost describe as coy. "I'm just... curious."

"Curious," you echo, deadpan. "You?"

"Does that surprise you?" he murmurs. You almost feel that your honest answer—yes—would be insulting now, so instead you just shrug and mumble something incoherent under your breath. "You're not completely wrong. I thought having a better understanding of things like sex and power dynamics would be beneficial in the long run. Most people have a greater knowledge of it than me, which—puts me at a disadvantage." He says these last words with an air of revulsion, as though the very concept of knowing less than someone sours in his mouth, and you chuckle at his childishness.

"That makes sense." You pause. Wonder if you're reading this all wrong, then barrel ahead anyway. "Wouldn't actually experiencing it for yourself lend a better understanding than anything else, though?"

L's eyebrow raises. His smile has vanished, leaving him bug-eyed and unreadable. "What are you suggesting?"

He's not stupid, and you're not subtle. He knows exactly what you were suggesting. The fact that he's trying to get you to go into more detail rather than firing you on the spot is probably a good sign, and further than you expected to get. You squirm in your seat.

"You know. It's like being told about how something feels rather than knowing," you say awkwardly. "I'm just—can I ask—"

"It only seems fair," L says slowly. "After I've been badgering you with my own questions for so long." His chair spins; he rests his wrists on his rucked-up knees, fingers steepled in front of him. "Please."

Hot-faced, you spin your chair aimlessly. "Okay, well, uh—have you? I mean, before?"

L hesitates before he shakes his head, an almost imperceptible twitch that has his dark hair floating. You swallow the sudden large dry lump in your throat.

"Okay. So. Probably somewhere to start," you mumble.

L seems to consider this. "Would you be willing?"

You don't have the right to be surprised, with all the dancing around the subject, but you are, still. You choke on your spit and fly around to look at him, which is a mistake. His gaze is so dark and intense, and you think he can see right through you before you even open your mouth to answer.

"I'm not—" you stammer, with no idea what you're going to say. "I mean—"

"I had assumed you would be," L goes on calmly, but you catch the slight flicker of his eyes, a ghost of uncertainty that makes your chest squeeze. "If I have read your responses incorrectly, though, feel free to forget I asked. I can guarantee no awkwardness tomorrow."

"It's not that," you blurt. L blinks at you, go on. "It's just... do you have any idea what you're, you know. Into? Where to start?"

L's eyes flicker, the barest furrow knitted between his brows. You can tell he hasn't thought too hard about it. "What would you suggest?" he asks, curling his long fingers over his knees.

You swallow. "Well... anything you like the idea of, I guess. Something familiar, to ease you into it."

L's eyes roll over to his desk, where a perfectly glistening slice of strawberry cake waits for him. Pink sponge and halved red berries, topped with pale pink cream. "Familiar," he echoes. "I may have a suggestion."

-

So you feed L a strawberry just to get started.

Hold it up. It's distinctly awkward; L just stares at it for a moment, the berry dusted with frosting that glistens between your fingers. You tell him, "If you're not comfortable with this, sex is probably going to be—"

He leans forward and plucks the fruit from between your fingers; you feel the barest ghosting of teeth, the sweep of his tongue sharp and curious against the pads of your fingers before he leans back again. You watch the motions of his jaw and throat as he chews and swallows. Pins you with his headlamp stare, wide and dark.

You deconstruct the strawberry cake carefully, removing the berries and setting them to the side. Cast a look over at him. "Take off your shirt?"

L twists the hem of this shirt for a few moments before removing it. It feels so strange to see him devoid of clothing, like a knight removing their armour. Pale ribs, pinched waist. He's not whipcord-thin like you had imagined—there's lean muscle packed under the skin, his stomach flat and somewhat soft. It flexes almost nervously when you look at it. He reclines back on his bed without being told, bracing his weight onto his elbows, legs dangling off the side.

"You sure about all this?" you ask, glancing from the smooth planes of his white skin—shit—to the plate of crumbling pink dessert. "Didn't think you'd be into, you know. All the mess."

"I have a shower," L says reflexively.

You take that as permission to approach with the plate. You place the strawberry halves in a red dotted line, starting at his clavicle, watching him shiver and flex at the cold touch. Down—one at the bottom of his ribs, one above his bellybutton, one at his naval just above the low sling of his jeans. He's started to flush, prettily pink down his chest. It makes you slightly dizzy.

"Okay. So. Okay." You try not to feel so nervous, but it's more like you feel out of place, or time, or space. It feels surreal, basically. Standing between L's legs with your fingers stained pink from fruit and frosting. Him looking up at you like that, all big dark round eyes and slightly parted lips. Damn it. You take a deep, steadying breath. "Okay, so, I'll start now if you're okay. And just say if you don't want—if you want to stop, or if you don't like anything, just say, okay?"

"I understand the basic premises of consent, if that's what you're trying to affirm." The words are all L, but there's an element of breathlessness to them.

"Just making sure we're clear," you mutter. You lean forward and smooth a palm over his collarbones. They're sharp, they jut up to meet your hand like cut diamond, and you hear and see his breath hitch, which is slightly intoxicating. His skin is warmer and softer than you thought it would be. You run your hands over his shoulders and neck, which he squirms away from with a wrinkled nose.

"No neck?" you ask.

He shakes his head. So no neck.

Once you're done exploring this part of his body, you lean forward, close your lips around the strawberry and bite the end of it, sinking your teeth into the flesh. Pink juice runs down your chin; L's eyes follow it, transfixed, as you tilt your head forward and push your mouthful against his lips. They part unquestioningly, and you push the strawberry into his mouth with your tongue. Your lips brush together, tantalising and sweet with sugar. A mimic of a kiss, a palimpsest of intimacy. You don't want to overwhelm him, anyway.

This goes on; your hands over his chest next, the soft pectorals. An experimental brush of your thumb over his left nipple that makes his whole body shudder. He's so sensitive, reacting to every prod and touch and tweak with a jerk and a shiver. Gooseflesh blooms up his skin, pebbling his nipples, and when you tweak the other one gently he lets out a choked sound.

Finding the strawberry nestled under his ribs. Taking it between your teeth and passing it to him. His face gets pinker with each one. Stomach, concave, flexing with every hard breath. A ticklish spot over his belly button. Strawberry, bite, pass. The flex of his jaw as he chews.

Fingers over his waist, indenting the skin as much as you dare. You try not to think of how easily he would bruise. Brushing your touch over his lower abdomen makes his breath catch again. You find the strawberry, hold it between your lips. L cranes his neck, searching this time—he thinks he knows the game, has memorised the steps, found the pattern, the sequence. He doesn't know that the best sex is the unpredictable kind. This time, you press your lips against him and when your tongue pushes the strawberry into his mouth it stays there. His lips part, slack against yours, either in shock or inexperience. You allow yourself the briefest twirl of your tongue against his before pulling back with a wet pop.

L stares at you as you retreat. The strawberries leave pale pink residue on his skin. Pulling back fully reveals the hardness between his legs, pushing up against the dark denim of his jeans. He grunts when your eyes land on it, either out of embarrassment or frustration. You swallow and its like sandpaper.

"Still want me to...?"

"I have not changed my mind," he replies, slightly hoarsely and a beat slower than usual. You shrug, smooth your hands over the tent at his crotch, and he whines. It's the most searing noise you've pulled from him yet, and all from some halfhearted palming over the jeans. It sends a thrill zipping through you, hot and addicting. His arms shake with the weight of holding himself up, neck craning to follow as you sink to your knees between his legs.

You unzip him, pop the button, and he groans slightly at the freedom from the constraints of his clothes. He's fully hard, straining against his dark underwear. You experiment, rubbing at the tip, feeling for the wet spot, and he keens and thrashes, losing his stability and crashing to the mattress. He makes a frustrated noise just after, as though cursing himself for his own lack of control.

"That—" he swallows hard, breathes shakily. "That feels..."

Your hand hovers. "Am I stopping?"

"No, I don't..." He scrambles. L scrambles over his words. "Please, continue."

You stroke him over his underwear for a few concentrated minutes, mostly enjoying the way he twitches and huffs and occasionally makes soft, whiny noises, the way he starts to rut his hips against your hand. No technique, no rhythm, just some sort of baseless desire that you find incredibly hot. There's almost a frustration to it that makes you want to laugh—of course there would be nothing more agonising to someone like L than seeing what he wanted so close to him but being unable to accomplish it himself.

When he starts gritting his teeth, you pull his boxers down to his thighs and he makes a choking, embarrassed sound. When you wrap your fingers around his cock for the first time, finding it velvety-soft and leaking, his eyes roll back and his hips arch into the loose wet tunnel of your hand. "Oh," is all he says. Small and soft like he's surprised. His neck twists and his mouth presses into the starched white sheets. "Oh," he says again as your fist moves slowly, stroking with intent, up and down. He's not overly big, fits nicely in your hand, makes swiping over the head where the pre beads with your thumb nice and convenient. And you love the way he shudders and thrashes when you do it.

"How does that feel?" Your voice is lower than you remember it being. L cracks a bleary eye open; his face is flushed bright pink now, a flush that bleeds all the way down his chest, blending in with the strawberry stains.

"It feels," he starts, before his brow pinches. "I—I am not sure how to—how to describe..."

"It's okay," you tell him. His thighs shake, flexing against the edge of the mattress. When he tips his head back the cords in his pretty throat bulge, so biteable. "You can come whenever."

"I wasn't—oh," he gasps, squirming. "I wasn't aware I n-needed your—permission, oh."

"Yeah, well," you say intelligently, a little struck dumb by the sight before you. "Just making sure we're on the same page."

"A-and what page is that?" he pants, thrusting his hips messily into your hand. He's so fucking sensitive that you swear you can see his eyes growing shiny.

"The one where I help you out, so don't be a brat," you murmur. L laughs breathlessly, trying, you think, to summon some retort. You twist your fist around him and it died, half-formed in his brain, his eyes rolling back and fingers flexing hard in the sheets.

After another minute, he reaches out and grabs your wrist hard enough to bruise. He doesn't say it—can't, maybe. But you know. Your pace speeds up just a touch and he honest to god moans, spilling out of him soft and breathy before he comes, streaking over his stomach in pearly arcs. You watch him flinch at the contact, fingers slipping on your wrist. His chest flexes—in, out, in, out.

You collect a big scoop of pink frosting on your finger and dip it in the come starting to cool between his pecs before pressing it to his lips. L's brow wrinkles, startled—but he opens his lips and lets your fingers pass into the hot cavern of his mouth. Like a cat he licks your finger clean, pointed pink tongue prodding with no technique or flourish, just something steadfast, something stubborn.

You do him the dignity of tucking his softened cock back into his underwear and zipping up his jeans. Unsure how to proceed until L sits up rather abruptly. His hair is even more tousled from his tossing and turning as he reaches for a tissue to wipe himself down.

He looks at you. "I understand it's customary to offer some sort of equivalent exchange in these circumstances." A pause whilst he gathers his breath. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm not quite feeling up to the task."

His tone is normal, if a little shaky. You rock back on your heels. "Did you like it?"

L blinks at you. "My curiosity has been sated," he says, carefully. "Yes, I believe I did enjoy it."

Well, that's a relief if nothing else. The pink remnants of the strawberry cake it on the plate; the shade matches his blush.

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟒 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara can’t find the dvd anywhere and gojo has a decision to make

wc. 4k

tags. fluff, angst (kinda), reader is described as fem, possibly ooc gojo (my bad), cliffhanger-ish, any spelling mistakes blame on my cats, possible plotholes

a/n. several things to address: firstly my description of dvds and how they work ARE SO FLAWED IK DON'T JUDGE. secondly, look I get how rct works so not everything I say is accurate but like this is also about 2d men so who's to judge. finally I'm not too sure about this chapter so if its shit lmk BUT I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT <333 ily all but I do have upcoming exams so the ending(s), won't be posted till possibly early February as I have to get back to studying :(

previous part / final part / series masterlist

“guys we’ve lost it.” nobara pushed up her mattress, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she peered beneath the wooden slats. all there was was her suitcase and a bag from an expensive shop she’d convinced gojo to buy for her. “it’s gone. poof. here once and now it’s not.” the ‘it’ in question being the dvd they’d treasured for the last few weeks (well, yuuji and nobara anyways).

after gojo had taken the dvd – unbeknownst to the first years – nobara had ended up sleeping for the next fourty eight hours, and then afterwards spending several days catching up on the classwork she’d missed. she hadn’t had the time or energy to force her classmates into another movie night so now here they were, almost a week since it was last touched, finally realising its disappearance.

“do you want me and megumi to come help?” yuuji asked tentatively as he heard her curse as she dropped the mattress back down. nobara sighed, glancing around at the chaos she’d created. her room was a mess – drawers half open and half her clothes and books on the floor in case the dvd had slipped into a pile by accident. 

“it’s not in my room,” she said adamantly, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration as she struggled to piece together the final moments she had with the dvd. she could remember sending megumi away, beginning her little day of research and even some of the videos she watched (the arcade and the christmas reunion), but then she fell asleep and everything was hazy from there.

“when was the last time you had it?” megumi asked and nobara felt her eye twitch like she hadn't retraced her steps a million times already.

“the first day i was off sick. i was watching a few–”

“without us?” the pink haired sorcerer cut in with a gasp.

“what else was there to do?” nobara argued back with no bite but he quietened down nonetheless. 

a moment of silence settled between the three as each tried to figure out where it could have been misplaced or who could’ve accidentally picked it up. if nobara had dropped it somewhere outside of her dorm, could one of the older years taken it?

nobara was brought out of deep thought by yuuji flippantly asking: “did you watch any after sensei came to see you?” she froze at the implication of his words. at no point could she recall their teacher ever coming in to check on her – it had always been either yuuji, megumi or maki. 

“what?” 

several hours later, the three first years found themselves huddled on the benches, nobara in the middle and the boys either side of her. in front of them were the second years and gojo – the latter having said something to annoy maki as yuuta held her back from making a swing at their laughing teacher. the second year teacher was off ill today so the larger class meant that the three had a distraction as they tried to figure out what their next step was – if they even had one at this point.

the assumed facts were as such: the first years were no longer in possession of the dvd, and gojo had it. though there was little doubt that this was true, it didn’t stop them questioning the possibility – after all, megumi had pointed out, there’d been no alter in his behaviour whatsoever since the minute he’d checked on nobara. surely, even the strongest would be noticeably affected by a disk that immortalised a happiness and innocence he’d never be able to return to.

but then again, maybe this was just another thing that separated gojo from the rest of society. being the strongest came before all else, he didn’t have the time to mourn resurfaced memories.

“maybe he just doesn’t have it,” yuuji suggested.

“he has to,” nobara reaffirmed. at this point they’d exhausted all other options about where it could possibly be and surely they would have heard if one of the older years found what they had. “would he tell you if he had it?” she asked megumi.

“no,” megumi said quickly, shaking his head and leaning back on the bench as he looked over at gojo, “we… he wouldn’t talk to me about that. about them.”

“could we steal it back?” yuuji offered and nobara debated duct taping his mouth closed.

megumi scoffed, shaking his head, “he has six eyes. even if we tried, he’d know for sure it was us.”

“he already knows it was us,” nobara countered, not that she agreed with yuuji’s solution by any means. “which is why i don’t get why he hasn’t said anyth–”

“oi, you three!” the first years jumped apart from their circle, hearts pounding as gojo appeared before them with a smirk toying at the corner of his lips and his hands clasped behind his back. “whoever beats maki in hand to hand combat gets the day off tomorrow!”

“yuuji if you win, i’m taking your day off,” nobara called out as she trailed behind the aforementioned boy running to the centre of the field. 

“okay!”

unsurprisingly, all three first years lost against the second year. megumi came closest to winning but when he tried to use his cursed technique, gojo countered it, catching him off guard and giving maki the opportunity to sweep him off his feet with her staff.

gojo found himself still laughing over megumi’s shocked expression as he fell flat on his back as he stepped past the threshold of his office. even after all he’d taught the boy in combat, with no cursed technique it was hard to overcome the zenin girl’s strength and skill she’d mastered to take on her own clan.

he let out a small sigh as the door locked shut and, for the first time that day, he was alone with his own thoughts.

dropping down into his office chair, gojo crossed one leg over the other as he pulled open a drawer. on the top of a pile of unread paperwork for the higher ups was the dvd the first years were so fixated on. 

he wasn’t stupid; he knew eventually they would figure out he had it and, unlike himself, they’d been way less subtle once they’d put two and two together. yuuji’s speech had tripled in speed, nobara was way too keen on being anywhere but where he was and megumi… gojo couldn’t forget the guilt and hurt in the teenage boy’s eyes after telling him you were gone. it was here again, had been for several weeks, and it was only after stumbling upon the disk in nobara’s room that he’d understood why.

gojo gritted his teeth together as he held the disk up between shaky fingers. it was pathetic, he scolded himself, it was just a bit of plastic with memories lasered into divots in a never ending spiral. it wasn’t worth the heartache.

if he looked closely enough, he could see shoko’s name written on the centrepiece in faded black sharpie. after gojo had stumbled upon the old camera several years after graduating from jujutsu high, shoko had taken back the camera to transfer all of the old clips onto dvds and given him, herself, nanami and you your own copies. he couldn’t even remember where his and yours were anymore, in fact he’d pretty much forgotten about their existence until a week ago.

he wasn’t sure where shoko had lost the dvd for the first years to get their hands on it but he hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to her about it. he hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than just spin the disk between his fingers, cry about it for a bit, and go back to pretending he didn’t have the last remnants of his youth in his drawer.

gojo glanced between the disk and the laptop on his desk. it was the last step he needed to take to hear your voice again. it had been on repeat for the last week in his mind; you uttering his name and that innocent question, would you last beyond your teenage years?

he missed it, missed you so bad.

raising megumi was a lot harder without you there; you were his favourite after all, bridging the gap between the two when they bumped heads with their contrasting personalities. gojo was all rainbows and giggles and megumi was everything but. you were a happy medium, creating a balance that maintained order in the home you shared. it was a peace that megumi deserved after losing his parents.

gojo clicked his tongue, reaching across to press a button that opened up a space for the disk. slotting it in place, he clicked the device shut and held his breath as he waited. it took several seconds for the files to load and then there he was again, back in those fields under the large weeping willow that was your spot.

the video was paused, exactly where it had been left, except this time gojo could actually see the screen.

your face wasn’t in it, just his. his glasses were off – balanced on your head if he remembered correctly – as he used your lap as a pillow. one of your hands was holding the camera while the other was held over his eyes to block any sort of light. the only thing he could make out was your cursed energy.

you were nearing the end of your first year and whilst gojo was growing more powerful, he was also growing more and more reliant on his glasses to stop himself from becoming so overwhelmed with the constant information he received with his six eyes. he’d overworked himself that day, as he so often did, hence why you’d dragged him away from the school to the seclusion of the tree. 

your questions about the longevity of your relationship weren’t meant to hold deep meaning, you just wanted to take his mind off of the headaches. gojo would choose thinking about you over the searing pain in the back of his head any day. yaga said that once he had a better understanding of his reversed curse technique it wouldn’t be so bad but until then it was just about riding it out.

gojo snorted at the notion. his reversed curse technique only marginally helped. you were what got him through the days when he’d lock himself in his bedroom with blackout blinds pulled down, hiding under his covers till he felt like he could function in society again.

he didn’t unpause the video, however, instead clicking onto the main tab with all of the files stored. 

lifting up his blindfold and dropping it down onto the desk, gojo took a deep breath before he began scrolling. unlike when the first years were simply searching for the ones with their favourite thumbnail, gojo was specifically searching for the ones he knew focused on you.

he needed to hear your voice again, to play it on repeat until it became so ingrained into his skin he could feel your touch.

gojo halted the cursor over the familiar date of your birthday, clicking on it without a second thought as the video filled the screen. it buffered for a moment, giving him a view of the dorm he’d practically spent three years in (despite yaga’s constant complaints and reminders that dorms were segregated on gender).

in the corner of your room was a stack of plushies that he’d won for you at arcades, and your walls were covered in photobooth photos and polaroids of your group of friends. his personal favourite was the polaroid you had pinned just above your desk. it was the two of you on new years eve sharing your first kiss of the year, sparklers in hand and the faint pink of a firework in the background. on the bottom of the polaroid was haibara’s handwriting as he’d scribbled on the date and a small smiley face.

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” seventeen year old gojo sung in the video, swaying the camera side to side above a pile of duvet and pillows. you were somewhere in the middle, half asleep and trying to push yourself deeper into the comfort of your bed and further from whatever the screeching was in your room.

you’d never been a morning person whereas he, on the other hand, had a reserve of energy that never depleted. it was what made getting up at the crack of dawn on your birthday so much more entertaining for him. even as an adult, when the two of you lived together in the comfort of your own apartment, he would either force you to stay up until midnight or gently nudge you awake at 4am to tell you he loved you.

“satoru,” you whispered groggily when you gave up trying to ignore his awful singing, lifting your head up just enough to meet his eyes. he would have done anything to see you physically before him instead of watching you through the lens of a camera. to be looked at with love as you did and not a mix of fear and respect. “if yaga catches you–”

“i’m just singing happy birthday to my girl,” his younger self dismissed, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he preferred your bed over his, a softer mattress he used to argue when shoko would complain about him showing up at your shared dorm several nights in a row. that particular birthday, he was pretty sure she’d been sent on a training mission over in kyoto. gojo’s hand came into frame as he ran a gentle hand through your hair, giving it a little pat when you quietly hummed at the contact. “he can’t hate on me for that.”

“yes he can,” you retorted, rolling your eyes with a tired smile. gojo felt his chest tighten – two years without waking up by that very same smile after almost a decade of having it everyday.

“i’ll blame shoko,” gojo shrugged with a grin, kicking his legs up onto your bed, despite your small protest that he was taking up all of your space. like you weren’t just as clingy as he was.

you huffed out a quiet laugh, your elbow digging into your pillow as you rested your head in your hand to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “shoko forced the strongest sorcerer of the modern day to enter the girls’ dorms? uh huh.”

“woah woah, i’m the strongest of all time baby, i don’t do second best,” he corrected, leaning down to give you a peck on the forehead. you scrunched your nose up at the contact, but even through the viewpoint of the camera, he can see how your eyes dropped down to his lips.

“i know you don’t,” you smiled and gojo dropped the camera down as he moved to give you your first real kiss of seventeen. present day gojo sucked in a breath, willing for himself to get through at least one several minute video of you until he started crying.

the kiss ended all too quickly as gojo shoved the camera back into your face, the flash causing you to squint and squeeze your eyes closed. “now smile and say cheese, you’re seventeen!”

“woo!” you cheered half heartedly, giving in to his infectious excitement. blowing the camera a tired kiss, you shuffled yourself back deep beneath your duvet. “now can i go back to sleep?”

“as long as i can stay.”

“fine,” you dragged out, though you both knew you wanted him to just as much. yaga be damned. the video ended several seconds later and an odd silence filled his office. 

he’d only ever watched several of these videos once or twice – back when he still had you to curl up into his side and reminisce with him and laugh at nanami’s old haircut. if he was being honest, he didn’t even remember he’d recorded that (though he was glad he did).

gojo was more confident this time when he scrolled, his hands no longer shaking as much as they had been as he smiled at the life he once had. a life with you and geto.

this time he stopped at a thumbnail with the three of you; gojo holding up the camera high as the three of you posed like it was a photo. it was at one of only a handful clan events you had attended together, with both you and geto as gojo’s plus ones. he and geto were in matching suits and you were in a floor length dress that he’d spent way too much money on (but you looked so pretty when you tried it on he couldn’t not get it for you).

“hi this is mtv,” you clapped your hands together, “and welcome to my crib.” his younger self waved his hands around in the background (geto was recording), showing off the spiralling architecture that cost more money than fathomable. 

gojo quietly laughed in his office. the politics of clans and these events were the last reason he’d ever chosen to attend them. seeing you all dressed up and running around buildings with a million rooms were right at the top. his favourite had to be when both the first years, shoko and utahime had also been in attendance, but after haibara’s death, hanging around with the clans that upheld the institution that killed their friend seemed distasteful.

“this is my in house art museum collection.” you led geto along one of the vast corridors, pointing into a room with dozens of framed canvases of art from all across the globe. “this is where i come in for inspiration and to truly just feel art you know?”

“i wasn’t aware you had skills beyond stickmen,” geto interjected and you raised both your middle fingers at him.

“art is subjective, di–”

“woah, i have standards to uphold here,” gojo cupped a hand over your mouth, stopping any expletive leaving you. you hummed in annoyance and the white haired sorcerer grinned, nodding his head over to a partially opened door. “we don’t need to argue when we have a whole cinema room to ourselves.” gojo remembered the stain of red lipstick you’d left on his hand when he let you go (you’d refused to kiss him all evening because of your makeup).

the cinema room was massive: rows and rows of sleek leather seats that looked out of place when compared to the aesthetic of the building. this was someone’s home, though it looked like anything but.

“this is my cinema room,” geto held onto the back of one of the chairs as he loosened his tie. he lowered his voice as he leant closer to the camera gojo was now holding. “we used to have two but daddy converted the smaller one into a sauna so now we only have this one,” he said with an upturned nose, and you could be heard giggling in the background at his faux disgust.

you nor geto were from the same wealthy background as gojo was and loved to poke fun at his high status background.

“oi!” an official that was supposed to be watching for any curses or curse users that tried to sneak into the event pointed a light into the cinema room. “you kids shouldn’t be back here!”

gojo laughed, throwing the camera to geto as he grabbed your hand and led you quickly down the stairs to another exit at the bottom of the stairs. geto turned off the recording once he’d grabbed a hold of the device in favour of focusing on not being caught. it wasn’t like there would be any real consequence – they were with gojo satoru after all.

the white hair sorcerer smiled as he thought back to the rest of the night. obviously, you’d all managed to get away – though he had suffered your wrath at the fact your legs weren’t as long as their’s were and you were running in heels. two strikes, but he’d made it up to you by taking you out for ice cream instead of going back to hear the speeches.

it wasn’t an exaggeration to say gojo would have done anything for you then. 

gojo swallowed a lump in his throat as your last interaction came to mind. you were arguing, as you had been in the weeks up until megumi’s birthday as he inched closer and closer to being old enough to enrol in jujutsu high.

the only wish he’d ever refused to fulfil: keeping megumi away from jujutsu.

“he’s our responsibility.” you were yelling at him, desperate for him to understand your point of view and he was walking away. dodging your anger by going wherever his legs took him – anywhere but where you were. “we need to protect him. we can’t protect him if he becomes a sorcerer too.” 

“i can,” he insisted, halting in his place to turn and look down at you. his cursed technique was activated, though there was no need for it to be, and all it did was frustrate you further.

“i nearly died today!” you countered, pointing to your neck with a faint scar. shoko’s reversed cursed technique was almost perfect, but not even that could fully erase the deep lacerations that had almost taken your life. “where were you? you can’t be everywhere and help everyone at the same time. it’s just not possible.”

“i can try.” his jaw was tight as he responded through gritted teeth.

“and if that’s not enough?” you didn’t need to see his eyes to know his were locked directly onto yours, daring you to continue. he wouldn’t hurt you, would never dream of it, angry or not, but how could you of all people doubt him? “what then gojo satoru?” you uttered his full name like it was an insult, “you may be the strongest but he’s not. i’m not. we’re mortals compared to you.”

“you’re my family,” his voice broke.

“yu and suguru were family once too.”

gojo clenched his fists at the memory, at the reminder he walked out after that. you were trying to get him to see your concerns, and he’d taken that as you blaming him for the outcome of your close friends. that was the last time he ever saw you; tears welling up in the corner of your eyes at his insensitivity, at his inability to admit that maybe, just maybe, he too was just a mortal. 

everything you said was logical and made sense – he had almost lost you that day, having not initially received the message that you had needed backup as he was preoccupied with his own mission. by the time he had arrived, the curse had its claws dug deep into your skin and it had taken everything in him not to use hollow purple and bring the entire infrastructure down in seconds.

despite all he’d done to save you that day, he’d still lost you. he’d only delayed the seemingly inevitable by mere hours.

megumi sat up in bed at the sound of two knocks on the door. he highly doubted it would be yuuji since the pink haired sorcerer had only left several minutes prior, saying something about needing to meet panda. 

to his surprise, gojo stood before him, hands in the pockets of his pants as he half smiled at the younger boy. 

“is itadori here?” megumi hesitated before shaking his head. “good,” gojo held up the missing dvd, “we need to talk.”

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen @kimvmarvel @ieathairs @janbannan @ja-zz @vangoes @starringz @ciscob1tes @theoriginaluzisimp @thirtykiwis @vivienne2000 @whydohumansss @purpleguk @simeon-lovergirl @missesgojosatoru @loveroftheoldestdream @mkaiiserr

if ive missed anyone im so sorry send me a little reminder &lt;3

[dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv]

You're too Precious

Pairing : Fem!Yu Jimin x Fem!reader

Author's note: This is inspired by a snippet of a K-Drama. I came across it on ig but I couldn't find the clip again, and sadly I don't know the name of the show. If you do know it, pls do let me know. The title is inspired by James Blake's song of the same name. I recommend you give it a listen when you're in a quiet environment. It's an amazing song. Oh also, the reader is a loser with tattoos (like me :p )

P.S. I know I can't make a Tumblr header to save my life. I tried okay?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having just gotten out of lectures, you wanted to wind down as soon as possible, so you hightail it to the dorms. The early morning lectures took years off your precious twenties. The previous nights' late shift at the coffee house adding an extra strain on your tired body.

After a brief walk from your campus, you arrive at the subway and walk up to the terminal. Maybe it's because of the unusual time to catch a train, but the terminal is nearly empty. Only occupied by two girls who have their backs turned to you, sitting at a bench waiting for their train. Having heard your footsteps, they turn their heads and you catch their eyes. You almost let out an audible gasp. Both girls were beautiful. One had long pink hair and the other.. the girl with raven hair, she was absolutely stunning. The dark, wavy hair, the pale skin with pink dusted cheeks, the cat eyes and perfect nose. And to make matters worse she was dressed in a cute white sundress.

It was so difficult not to stare. You manage to not let your jaw drop and looked away upon meeting the raven headed girls eyes, trying to hide the pink hue dusting your cheeks. You realise they look unnerved as they size you up. You're used to the stares you get, though they usually come from older people. But now you feel conscious of the various tattos, and piercings that adorn your body, and your boots and all-black get-up wasn't helping your case either. You wished you wore longer sleeves, or white or.. or something-anything that didn't make them look at you like that.

You take another glance once she looks away, her dress is paired with cute sandals, and a light brown tote hangs from her shoulder. Upon closer inspection you see that there's Shin Chan badges adorning her tote. That's adorable. You think to yourself. Her wavy hair had a brown tinge to it. She was so beautiful and you felt an odd soothing in her presence. It felt like you were feeling the sunshine on a Sunday morning while laying in grass. You found yourself wishing you didn't look so unnerving. Then maybe you would've at least considered approaching them, but alas, their train pulls into the terminal and they enter the train.

~2 days later~

You feel absolutely ridiculous. This might be a new low, even by your standards. Dressed in a white shirt covering your tattoos, slacks on your feet and a casual denim on your legs, with your piercings taken out, and your usually unruly hair combed into an unusual tidyness, you stand at the same terminal.

Yes. You changed your style in hopes of running into that same raven haired beauty again. And this time you will somehow summon the courage to speak to her. She won't be put off by your appearance this time, or so you hope.

It's the second day since you embarked on your grand quest and there's still no sign of her. What were you expecting? It's a big city, thus the chances of running into her again are so very slim.

Frustrated with your own stupidity, you mutter "This is fatherless behaviour" to yourself as you kick at the floor with your brand new slacks. (Yes, you had to buy them and most of your new ensemble as they're not the usual pieces from your wardrobe)

From your peripheral vision you see someone walking up and stand next to you on the terminal. You slightly turn your head. You did a double take that almost gave you whiplash.

Black boots, fishnet stockings, leather skirt, black top, and dark makeup. It was her. The raven haired beauty. She's looking at you and you're gaping at her like you've never a seen a girl before. Well, you've never really seen one as beautiful as her. She lets out a little chuckle that had your knees shaking.

With a smirk adorning her face she asks, "Changed your style?" her voice was rough yet smooth, deeper than you expected, with a just touch of cockiness which made her that much more attractive.

You gulp, "I-um, well, yes." Wow. Great going doofus. All that planning just to fumble this bad. "I-I see you changed yours too." You say in an attempt to rescue the conversation you almost drowned.

"Yeah, thought I'd try something new. Do you like it?" she said, gesturing her hands over her black ensemble. "You look amazing." You say truthfully.

"Really? I gotta say, your new look shows a completely different side of you …?". "Y/N. It's Y/N." Before she could respond, the intercom comes alive with an announcement and the train pulls in. "Well Y/N, I'll see you around." she responds while walking away.

You absolutely love the sound of her voice, her personality matches her features perfectly and she oozes charisma. How completely unfair. If you look like the reincarnation of Aphrodite, you should at least have the common decency to have a bad personality. (You make a mental note to find out if she's bad at Math.)

But she was only annoyingly and undeniably loveable. You're thinking all of this after just a few words between you? You better get her name at least. You're in a stupor as your eyes have been following her figure as she walks towards the doors. Failing to notice that she was getting into the train.

"Wait!" you finally shout out. But she's almost inside the train and doesn't seem to hear you through the busy crowd. "Wait! wait!" you shout as you run towards her but lose sight of her through the crowd. You try to push through the crowd but the warning sound beeps and the train doors close. The train pushes away from the terminal and speeds off into the city.

[a-forbidden-detective]

Curious add-ons: Foreshadowing and when subtext becomes text (Part 3)

Squeezing two chapters into one episode can be quite a challenge. One, the continuity is going to be broken. Second, the narrative is going to be rushed leaving some attributes of the characters out.

Where was that scene where Toto mentioned his grandmother bc it reminded him of Ron’s fave tv program or him (mis)stepping again on the cat?

But at the same time this is also a chance to edit out or fine-tune some panels that might not affect the whole story. Or probably make another story altogether.

Like this entire scene for example. It is amusing that the anime writers chose to make the shooting star invitation appear already in the beginning of the episode, which Toto forgot to tell Ron after seeing the latter’s pink grapefruit eyes. The bloodshot eyes deeply concerned him only to find out that the culprit was Ron’s discovery of the wonderful world of the TV.

Unlike in the manga, where Toto has no idea, who the sender was, In the anime he knows the sender but not well enough. So anime writers, what are you up to? It could be for logical reason. As a police officer Toto should not be trusting of any unverified letters sent to him, which the manga just set up bc Akira wrote it.

Or, hear me out, if you are reading the manga or have read this chapter, this is going to be another setup for Ron. Another angst-filled one at that.

Then the invitation appeared again during the last 10 minutes or so, without the disturbance of a TV crew who, in the manga showed up during the duo’s dreadful/anxious moments. Ron, immediately ceased the invite and decided from then on that they must go there. No time for verification.

Toto has the invitation all the time with him in the anime and is holding on to it till he finds the right moment.

At first glance, the premise is Toto visits Ron to ask if the forbidden detective wants to be his plus one. Isn’t that thoughtful of Toto? It sounds so romantic, isn’t it? But what if Toto has an agenda? Or someone has and is only using Toto to get to Ron?

I am curious of the next episode(s). There are five chapters in the manga alone for the succeeding arc.

Anyway, the dialogue in the last 15 minutes or so has changed.

From Chapter 8:

Ron: I... almost ended up killing you. If something like this happens again, and the person I’m solving a case with dies… Forget being a detective, Id be so overwhelmed with despair that I wouldn’t be able to go on living.

From the episode 6:

Ron: “Something like that”? I nearly killed you. If anything like it happened again, and you died I'd despair of myself and wouldn't be able to carry on.

The difference lies that the anime writer has edited out the flowery generalisation but immediately got on with the killer word “you” as in Toto Isshiki.

And this momentous addition:

Toto: Until you can believe in yourself, I'll stick with you! Okay?

So far, my RonToto heart is full. But hopefully, the writer will stick to it until the end.

PS: They might forget Toto’s mention of grandmother but they make sure that he is polite and has good manners saying his apologies again for Ron’s eccentric behaviour.

[real-life-senshi]

10 (Mostly) Spoiler-Free Reasons to Watch Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon 2003 Live Action

A countdown to the 20th anniversary of Act 1 air date!

Reason 10: The three live-action original Senshi!

Technically introducing these 3 Senshi would count as a spoiler, but not introducing them would mean I'm not doing justice in convincing people to give the live-action a try! SO I'M GOING FOR IT.

Still, anything I share here would be introductory, and I won't go into the story surrounding these characters at all. And as I mentioned basically this whole time in this series of posts, the storytelling is where it counts when it comes to the live-action!

Without further ado, I'm starting off with the most iconic original Senshi of them all:

Sailor Dark Mercury - more well-known as Darkury

Yes! We get a villain version of a Senshi! ABSOLUTELY GLORIOUS!

Ami-chan in the live-action is basically the most even-tempered person out there. So imagine the sweetest, MOST kindhearted girl going absolutely apeshit, then you are probably not too far off imagining Darkury's behaviour. And imagine the smartest person you know working against you... now that's one adversary you'd want to avoid!

The unique story surrounding Darkury holds a special place for many fans of the live-action. It's proof of the live-action's amazing writing and unapologetic differences to its original source material, and marks a joy only audience of live-action get to enjoy in the whole Sailor Moon franchise!

Princess Sailor Moon

Princess Sailor Moon is the only alternate/upgraded Senshi form the audience gets to see in the live-action series, since the show only covers one arc so there are no new forms of transformation for the Senshi. Not only she has a harp, but she also has a SWORD instead of a magic wand! HOW COOL IS THAT??!!!!! Senshi with swords/actual weapons and looking fierce is like my favourite thing!!!

She is undoubtedly powerful, and this costume of this form is stunning! I personally really love the pastel pink matched with the midnight blue!

To new viewers of the live-action, don't let the official promo picture of a smiling Princess Sailor Moon or your pre-existing knowledge of the overall franchise fool you into a sense of security of knowing what’s coming though. She is so much more than what meets the eye, and her first appearance in the show is absolutely EPIC!!!!

Sailor Luna

Yes, that is cat ears and a cat tail... Yes, this is Luna.

Luna eventually gets a human form AND a Senshi form in the live-action. It's arguable how powerful she actually is, but she certainly has her moments of cleverness, sneakiness, and... comedy.

My best guess is, that the live-action screenwriting made this version of Luna by pulling in elements from ChibiUsa's early Senshi days - where ChibiUsa often overestimates her strength, and her inexperience puts her in awkward and unhelpful positions for the rest of the Senshi. Even the actress originally thought she was cast as ChibiUsa during the audition process.

In this case though, because Luna fills the role of a trainer and adviser to the Senshi team, so as a Senshi, we see her choice of action feel less amateur in terms of battle instinct and strategy, but her actual strength is certainly secondary to being a true Senshi. The imbalance often causes some unexpected and hilarious results in battle, and no one really knows what to expect and how to react - to be impressed or to laugh!

You can watch the subbed versions of the series at:

Miss Dream Fansubs

Sea of Serenity Fansubs

The series is also on other online streaming sites, but be cautious to only visit them with good adware and firewall installed.

1 last day till the 20th anniversary of Act 1 air date!

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

[emotionaleschaos]

READ ME/INTRODUCTION

Welcome to our/my blog! We're mentally ill and extremely fucking tired because no one takes us serious enough

Despite using WE/US/OURS and generally being more people in one mind, we are not a system nor do we have DID. At least we haven't been diagnosed yet because no one cares about what we feel. We will still hang out on the DID side on here so that we can learn and find others who feel the same

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Some general facts to get to know the basics

Luca - ♟

Age: 21

Pronouns: He/Him

Hobbies: None

Fav food: Everything

Fav animal: Cats and Wolves

Fav color: Pink and Yellow

Generally sad bitch with no future

NEON - 🚬

Age: Something something teenager

Pronouns: Whatever feels good (Or just use "it")

Hobbies: Being annoying, Roblox

Fav food: No idea

Fav animal: No idea

Fav color: Anything rainbow lol

We will add some more stuff as time goes on

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

KEEP IN MIND:

This blog is mainly a vent blog, which means that at times there will be some extreme themes mentioned and talked about!!

We are very direct about our feelings

We will obviously always add a TW and a cut, so you have enough time to scroll

THEMES:

. Delusions

.Depression

.Hallucinations

.About the people in the head

.Talk of self destructive behaviour or su*cide

.Experiences with Doctors and Psychwards

There's a few more i probably forgot about but you get the idea

ALSO

Sometimes it might seem as if we're romanticizing or "cutiefying" mental issues for the sake of seeming special

which is not the case

We often times "romanticize" our own struggles because we don't know what else to do, same with making jokes!

There will be situations where we ARE romanticizing our struggles for the sake of romanticizing, but that is a thing we do when we have an episode (This has only happened twice before) but keep in mind that IF it happens again, we are not really aware in moments like these, either try and ground us back to reality or just ignore or even block us if you get uncomfortable!

We apologize in advance.

DNI:

Any kink blogs or blogs that talk about anything se×ual, Proship, Zoos, "Endos", Transphobes, Homophobes, etc.

I don't really care what your opinions on these things are, these things trigger us, so please respect that!

That would be all for now

[thewild--flower]

[Translation] Heart no Kuni no Alice Light Novel ~Sunny Day Sunday~ - Chapter 1

Author: Yukiko Uozumi

Original Work: Quin Rose

Previous chapter - Introduction

~Chapter 1 - Lost Girl~

A cold personality, gloomy, and without charm.

That was Alice Liddell's objective evaluation of herself.

Though one might suppose she was a quiet person because she was gloomy, it was the opposite. 

She plainly said the things she wanted to, and if it was something she could not agree with, even if it was someone who was her superior, she would not yield. From her homeroom teacher's point of view she was a student that was rather difficult to deal with.

However, ever since Alice had become lost in this world that was called ‘the Country of Hearts’, she had come to learn of the existence of countless other ‘problem children’, compared to whom she was quite normal. No, she had a feeling that comparing the world where she had been born and raised to this one was a mistake in and of itself.

‘This is for you.’

‘?’

The pink-coloured cat— or more precisely, the man with pink-coloured ears and tail, casually handed something to Alice.

It was a profoundly cold sensation. For a moment, Alice wasn’t able to judge what it was. It didn’t appear to be a toy, but was unexpectedly rather heavy.

‘What is this?’

‘What do you mean what is it? It’s a gun. A gun.’ He answered as if it was no big deal.

‘You don’t have a gun, do you? I have lots, so I’ll give you one. They’re pretty useful.’

‘I-I don’t need it!’

Alice returned the thing she had been handed, almost throwing it back.

Guns were no joking matter. 

To Alice, a gun wasn’t a convenient item that was useful for her everyday life, but a dangerous weapon, nothing more, nothing less.

‘Hey, why did you give it back?! This isn’t a toy, but the real thing, you know?’

‘That’s why I gave it back!’

Alice protested, while slowly backing away.

‘I don’t need a gun. What would happen if I used it and killed someone!?’

‘? Nothing would happen. Guns are supposed to be used for killing people.’

Seeing Alice’s reaction, he— Boris, shrugged his shoulders as if puzzled.

That’s right. Of course. Apparently, in this world, the value of life was exceedingly low, and criminal behaviours were seemingly a widespread everyday occurrence. It was to be expected that he would carry guns, being that law and order was so bad here not even murder would be charged as a crime.

Compared to the world that Alice had been raised in, this was a world where there was a clear difference in the definition of common sense— that was the Country of Hearts. 

Here, the concept of time was vague, daytime, evening and night all arrived at random, there was no extreme weather, nor did the seasons change. She wondered how much time had passed since she had come to live in this wonderland that did not appear on any map.

Although she ‘lived here’, it wasn’t as if staying was something Alice had decided herself.

More accurately, Alice had been carried away here against her will. By the man with the rabbit ears growing out of his head, Peter White.

Even now she clearly remembered it. It had been a Sunday afternoon, and she had been in the middle of enjoying the usual picnic with her older sister Lorina  in the garden at their house.

As if he had been waiting for the moment Lorina left her seat, Peter had suddenly appeared and gallantly swept her up, diving away with her into a large hole that led to another world. And thus, in the place she had arrived at— Alice, who had been tossed out into the Country of Hearts, with no way to return to her original world, had somehow found a place to reside, and spent her days to reach this current point in time.

However, even now Alice wasn’t sure what kind of world this was, nor for what reason she had been brought here.

For all that she did not know, she had come up with a single theory.

In short, everything that was happening was a ‘dream’, and in reality she was asleep. If that was the case, without thinking too hard about this or that, it was likely best for her to enjoy the present and take it all as a dream.

If she didn’t think of it this way, it didn’t seem likely she would be able to maintain her sanity. Alice’s mind wasn’t so flexible as to be able to simply accept as reality the existence of humans with things like cat or rabbit ears.

‘—And, this is the safety. If you don’t release it, the bullets won’t come out, so be careful. After that, you just need to pull the trigger. Alright? Simple, isn’t it?’

Ignoring Alice’s rejection of guns, Boris continued his lecture.

Handling the dangerous object, his golden eyes sparkled like a child with a favourite toy in front of him.

Though he had a fairytale-like appearance with his cat ears and pink colouring, the truth was he was a hardcore gun fanatic.

Boris Airay. Also known as the ‘Cheshire Cat’, he was a freeloader here at the amusement park. In the Country of Hearts, the three powers,‘The Amusement Park’, ‘Heart Castle’ and ‘Hatter’s Mansion’ were constantly warring over territory. At present, though Alice was staying at Heart Castle, she was just a freeloader, so territorial disputes were nothing more than someone else’s problem. She freely came and went through each area and had built a circle of acquaintances, unlimited by friend or foe.

Both Boris and the amusement park’s owner Gowland welcomed her each time she came to have some fun. Even if she didn’t go to the effort of riding the jet coaster, the go karts, or the ferris wheel, she still enjoyed herself just having easygoing conversations with them like this. To be able to think this way was proof of how accustomed to this world Alice had become.

‘.....Sorry, but I still think I’ll pass. I don’t think guns are something I can use, and if possible I’d prefer not to carry one. I don’t feel as if I could relax if I did.’

Alice spoke gently to Boris who was still recommending the gun to her.

‘Eh-? It’d be more anxiety-inducing not carrying one. You’re really braver than you look. Walking around this country unarmed, it’s like you’ve got a death wish.'

‘I-I don’t want to die either. But what I can’t do, I can’t do, is what I’m saying. Even if I did carry one, it’s meaningless if I don’t intend to use it.’

She was well aware that her way of thinking was naive. In this world with neither law nor police, she couldn’t complain to anyone even if she did end up getting killed. She was the one that had to protect herself. Or—.

‘Or could it be that you have someone doing a good job protecting you?’

Boris narrowed his eyes, and bit-by-bit drew his face closer to hers.

This friendly cat was always freely getting close to her. Even if they were inside the park, it was still a place where a fair amount of people passed by. But as if he didn’t care that people might see, while swinging his long tail, he curled a lock of Alice’s hair around his index finger.

‘Oh yeah, there’s a knight at Heart Castle, isn’t there? It couldn’t be that he’s your knight in shining armor, is he?’

‘Hah? By knight….. You don’t mean Ace, do you?’

She thought of the man in the long red coat, with his suspiciously refreshing smile.

As Boris had said, there was a knight at Heart Castle, where she was staying. His name was Ace.

Though he held a high rank as a military leader because of his physical prowess, she wasn’t sure if he was someone to be relied on, and in any case was a man who was difficult to get a read on.

‘? He’s not?’

‘Of course he isn’t! I don’t know why you’d even bring Ace’s name into this. That guy has nothing to do with me. In the first place, before asking whether he’s protecting me or not, I hardly ever even see him at the castle.’

One of the reasons why he was unreliable, was that he had the characteristics of someone born without a sense of direction. It was already beyond the level of someone who merely couldn’t read a map. He could easily spend thirty hours getting to a place that would take a normal person an hour. At any rate, the current state of things was, he got lost even at the castle where he supposedly lived, unable to even reach his own room.

—Surprised he can even call himself a knight like that. She honestly was fed up with this world.

 Even though she was a freeloader, Alice was severe in her assessment of the people she was staying with. Though she didn’t really see the aforementioned wandering man often enough to be able to call him someone she lived with.

‘Hmm, so not the knight then.’

Boris raised an eyebrow, and continued staring at Alice.

‘If that's the case, what about the Prime Minister?’

‘Huh?’

‘I’m asking you if your favourite is the Prime Minister, then.’

‘..................Huh?’

Alice doubted her ears.

Prime Minister. In other words, the Right Honourable Prime Minister of Heart Castle, she thought he had to mean Peter White. Other than him, she didn’t know of any other person that was called Prime Minister.

‘Favourite….. Wait a moment. Why are we talking about this?’

‘Why are you so bothered? Oh, don’t tell me it was a bulls eye? Uwah…… for real?’

‘No!’

She raised her voice and denied it. For some reason she didn’t quite understand, she had a feeling this was a scenario she absolutely had to deny.

‘I’m not sure what you’ve misunderstood here, but Peter is…… that man is the last person on earth that would ever be my favourite.'

Alice spoke in a low voice, her fists clenched. As if sensing her quiet anger, Boris' face stiffened and he gingerly drew back.

Peter White. The rabbit man with a predisposition for stalking. He should surely never be forgiven for the sin of rudely intruding that peaceful Sunday afternoon.

It was a strange thing, even in a dream, she could get angry, feel lonely and become irritated. In a world with no sense of reality, her emotions alone felt real.

*

Heart Castle, the place where Alice was currently staying, was one of three powers in the Country of Hearts.

The castle with its overly vivid pink and red colour scheme, striking architectural style and grand scale, exerted a dominating and eccentric presence even amongst other structures in the country.

On the castle grounds, red roses bloomed in profusion, forming an enormous labyrinth where the figure of the ruler of the castle, the Queen of Hearts Vivaldi, could be seen enjoying a stroll in the evenings. Though she was well known for being beautiful and cruel, for some reason it seemed she had taken a liking to Alice, and because of that her life at the castle was safe and without any discomfort, there ought not to have been any cause for dissatisfaction…… with one exception.

'Welcome back, my dear Alice!'

The moment she entered the castle, a high pitched voice called Alice's name.

Faster than she could prepare herself, a rabbit man wearing round glasses clung onto her. Such was his enthusiasm, a 'Guhaa-' escaped from her throat as she had the breath knocked out of her.

'Aah, I missed you……! I missed you, Alice! While we were apart, I was so lonely I was about to lose my mind. What a wicked woman you are, truly!'

'.......Your mind's been lost right from the start.'

She vigorously tried to push away his face as it nuzzled her cheek.

However, he did not draw back. No matter how hard she tried to resist, he hugged her tightly. Though she asked for help with her eyes from the soldiers that were nearby, there was no way they would be able to stop the rampage of his Excellency the Prime Minister, and they only looked on as if they felt sorry for her.

Silver hair and red eyes. A checkered suit and a pocket watch. And lastly, white rabbit ears. At a glance his looks were not normal, and as one would expect, he was not normal on the inside either.

'Peter…… I've been telling you from the beginning, don't hang onto me like this. You're being a nuisance. Think about where we are a little.'

Peter White's excessive displays of love were a source of distress for Alice. Clinging onto her was an everyday occurrence, each time he opened his mouth he would repeatedly say, 'I love you', and no matter where she was he would try to follow. There was no other word but abnormal to describe the way he would immediately pull out his gun and try to shoot the soldiers out of jealousy, whenever they were standing around talking together. 

If this had been the world that Alice had been raised in, he was the kind of person that ought to be arrested. However, in this world, he was one of a small number of influential people known as a 'role holder.' No matter who he kidnapped, killed or stalked, he was free to do as he wished, a person of high rank and of extremely bad character.

'To be bothered that other people might see, you're more shy than I thought.'

As Peter chuckled, he continued,

'It's alright, Alice. Come, let us flaunt our relationship to them all!'

'Kyaaah!'

Dangerously on the verge of being kissed, Alice swung her hand high. 

It connected with Peter's right cheek with a splendid and satisfying thwack.

'Owch-! Y-you're so mean, what are you so embarrassed about?'

'I'm saying your existence itself is embarrassing…..!'

How was it this man was always only able to think of things in a way that was convenient to him? 

While she was completely fed up, Peter directed a dreamy gaze towards her while holding his right cheek.

'Heheh….. but I understand, that impressive slap of yours is just another form of your love, is it not……?'

'Hah?'

'You know, don't they often say? Tough love. You're too embarrassed to put your love into words, so you try to express it through your actions, right? Isn't that so?'

He was completely nonsensical.

He had it so totally wrong, she wasn't even sure where to begin.

It was always like this with Peter. And on top of that, was his pushy and over-the-top way of communicating his love. Because there was not even a hint of the concept of 'playing games' in any of it, Alice also didn't hold back in showing her rejection, but still he displayed absolutely no signs of withdrawing. If anything, his lovey-dovey aura only grew all the stronger. Even when she insulted, punched, and kicked him down. 

It was simply futile to try and argue reasonably with someone who did not understand common sense, and recently Alice had half given up. Even if she used up her energy trying to argue with him in a direct way, she had learnt that she wouldn't gain a single thing from it.

'I-I've had enough…… I'm tired, so I'm going to get some rest.'

Pressing her temples, Alice quickly tried to leave the scene.

'Are you returning to your room?' For some reason, Peter's voice sounded cheerful. 

'I've been working too hard, I'm completely exhausted. The working environment at this castle is the worst. Her Majesty is always in a bad mood, and everytime Ace leaves for work he never comes back, my word, they're all a completely useless bunch.'

'Hey, why are you following me!?'

As Alice walked at a fast pace, Peter kept tailing after her. Unable to bear it, Alice broke into a run.

'I said, why are you following after me! Quit it!'

'Why you ask, isn't it because you're running? Why not return to your room a bit more slowly? I think you're needlessly tiring yourself.'

'I'm running because you're following me!'

In order to put more distance between them, Alice ran. She was good at foot races. The sound of their footsteps echoed across the lavish marble hallways. The soldiers doing their rounds, looking startled, opened a path for them, one after the other, as they ran by.

However, even then Peter kept pace with her. 

'Hey, stop chasing after me! Hurry up and go back to work!'

'I don't care about work, they should just feed something so worthless to the pigs. There isn't a single more important thing in this world than spending time with you!'

'You just want to slack off from work!'

Stamp stamp stomp stomp, the two of them continued their close race. However, though Alice was extremely out of breath, Peter was smiling, completely unfazed, as he ran alongside her. It was almost like he was a dog running around the fields with his owner, simple-minded and happy. However, that certainly did not mean she felt like being affectionate towards him.

'What's wrong? Are you tired?'

'Of course I am. Sheesh, who's fault do you-......Hyaaah!'

Alice yelled out as her body was suddenly suspended in the air.

Peter was now holding her in his arms. In the posture of the so-called 'Princess Carry.'

'Wh-what do you think you're doing, you kidnapper! Pervert!'

'Ah, please don't thrash around too much. What would happen if you fell?'

'I wouldn't be in a position to fall if you hadn't picked me up! Hurry up and put me down!'

'But, you're tired, aren't you? Please rest at ease, I shall take responsibility and deliver you to your room. Heheh, I'm stronger than I look, aren't I?'

'"Strong", you say, how rude, I'm not even that heavy…….'

And at any rate even though he had told her to 'rest at ease' there was no way she could. She didn't think there was any situation more nerve wracking than having your stalker see you to your room.

—What on earth was wrong with this man?

Still being carried, Alice directed a gaze of censure at Peter.

Even now she didn't know what he was thinking. Though he had kidnapped her and brought her into this world, it was not as if he had demanded a ransom or hurt her. No matter how much time passed, he merely repeated words of love and didn't try to take any further action than that.

If he was a true stalker that wasn't after money or material goods, even then it didn't make any sense. After all, Alice had not once met Peter in the past, and she could not think of any reason why he would feel so strongly for her. It wasn't impossible that he had one-sidedly fallen in love with her at first sight somewhere, but she didn't think her appearance was so exceptional for that to be the case.

But even so, Peter persistently told Alice, 'I love you.'

She didn't understand it at all. It was perplexing. She had no choice but to take this inconsistency as part of the dream, but even then it didn’t sit well with her.

‘Hey….,’ Alice summoned up the courage to put the doubts she had had over and over into words. ‘Why do you like me so much? We’d never even met before, right? Aren’t you mistaking me for someone else?’

‘No. I’ve known you well for a long time.’

The red eyes behind the glasses narrowed.

Frustratingly, in inverse proportion to his personality, this man’s face, and only that, was rather good looking.

‘And you also know me very well, do you not? Our love has always been mutual.’

‘............’

Not only was he a stalker, but a complete fantasist as well. He was beyond help.

‘Listen, I don’t remember ever meeting you, or falling in love with you, either.’

Though she complained to him, Peter only smiled happily. Somehow, it seemed as if those long ears of his were unable to hear things that were not convenient to him.

Alice sighed.

—Why am I with this crazy guy, I wonder.

Peter was without a doubt a kidnapper, but he did not try to restrict Alice’s actions. He would look lonely whenever she went to leave, but he had never once tried to stop her by force.

In short, if Alice wanted to escape him, she could do so at any time. Rather, from the beginning, the one to choose Heart Castle as her place of residence had been Alice herself. Peter’s will had had nothing to do with it. Now that she thought about it, on top of pulling her into this world, he hadn’t particularly done anything to look after her afterwards. He had simply left her at the place called the Clock Tower, without any detailed explanation of this world or any assistance with daily necessities.

It had taken her this long, but now that Alice thought about it, for all he talked so much about loving a person, his lack of responsibility towards her was somewhat suspect. 

She didn’t pretend to understand the thought processes of a criminal, but supposing it had been a crime of love, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to confine or keep her under his watch. If he did not, then kidnapping her was meaningless.

……And so, in the end, not sure what to do after having been halfway left to her own devices, she had chased after Peter, found out his location, and chosen to live under the same roof as him. Though she had been reluctant, she hadn't anywhere else to go, and she had thought that surely he would know the way for her to return to her original world.

However, even now she had been unable to return to her world, and was still stuck in limbo to this day.

If this was a dream, it was one that had gone on for far too long. It was a long running dream. She thought that it was about time it came to an end, but as of now there were no signs of it doing so. It was highly unlikely that the dream would continue on forever, but while it still did, it wasn’t like she didn’t worry over it.

‘......Peter.’

‘What is it, Alice?’

The rabbit man was dashing through the hallways, looking happy. There was no ill will in his smile. If it was just in appearance, he was a genuine pure white rabbit.

‘Why don’t you have any intention of returning me to my original world?’

It might be a stupid question to ask of a stalker. But she couldn’t give up. Because this wasn’t the world she should be living in.

‘Do you wish to return to your original world?’

‘Of course I do, I’d want to go back right now if I could!’

Alice retorted with raised eyebrows at his shameless question. But even then his expression remained unruffled.

‘Hmm~? That’s strange. But are you not always able to go back anytime you wish, if that is the case?’

‘......Hah?’

‘If you truly wish to return, you can go back at any time, Alice.’

‘Don’t mess with me. As if you can say that, when you were the one that kidnapped me.’

‘Dear me, I am not messing with you.’

Peter continued as if sulking.

‘To return, or not return. That is the game you are playing. It is all up to you. While it is unfortunate, there is nothing I can do.’

*

—What’s unfortunate is that head of his.

Even if he told her it was a game, Alice had no idea what that meant. She had no memory of becoming a player, and it was not as if she were holding any cards. However, the residents of this world uttered the words ‘game’ and ‘rules’ at every turn.

It was ridiculous to be playing a game without knowing the rules

She very much felt like complaining to someone. But then Alice suddenly realized. …..What did she used to do at times like these? Whenever she had a problem, did she ever talk to anyone about it? The faces of her female classmates vaguely floated into her mind, but there wasn’t anyone in particular that she thought of. As she thought about it more, Alice, with her cold personality and plain way of speaking had often ended up in the role of listener, rather than being the one confessing her troubles.

—But, I used to talk about a lot of things with my big sister.

Her older sister Lorina. Ever since her mother had passed away due to an illness, though her sister had taken on the clear role of guardian, she had always been a good sister and friend to her as well. In front of her sister, she was able to show an unreservedly relaxed expression that she wouldn’t normally show to her classmates.

However, as to whether she was able to speak to her sister about anything at all— the answer to that was no.

She loved her big sister, but all the more because she was her beloved big sister, there were things she couldn’t talk about in front of her.

Each time the number of such secrets increased, she would look lonely and often say to Alice,

‘You’re no longer a child. To have secrets you can’t tell your family means you must be pretty grown up now, right?'

*

‘......So then, why come to me?’

As he looked at Alice’s face, the man with eyes the colour of dusk was clearly displeased.

She was at the Clock Tower, located at the centre of the Country of Hearts. Its master, commonly known as the Clockmaker— Julius Monrey, gave her a brief glance, then returned his gaze to his work.

‘That's a good question, though I’m not quite sure myself……’

‘Hah? What’s that supposed to mean? I have no business with you. Hurry up and go back home.’

At this point, Alice understood his personality well enough that she did not feel hurt. For him, ‘Go home’ was just a set phrase that he would say in place of a greeting. Or, at least that was how Alice had decided to take it, when she would sometimes wander over to visit this obstinate and gloomy man at the Clock Tower. While knowing that he would curtly dismiss her whenever she showed her face.

‘I climbed all the way up here, you could at least show a little appreciation.’

‘No one asked you to come. If you need someone to talk to, there are plenty of people at Heart Castle. The lost knight, the heartless queen, the crazy rabbit, pick whichever one suits your fancy. Leave me out of this.’

He’d told her to choose one of them, but weren’t those rather slim pickings? She didn’t really want to say it of people who she was indebted to, but there wasn’t a single normal person among them.

‘......Hm, but Vivaldi was easier to talk to than I had first thought. She seems scary, but has an unexpected cute side to her.’

Alice said to herself.

There were times when the Queen of Hearts, who was famous for her highhandedness and cruelty, showed Alice a smile like that of a young girl. …..But then, there were also times when just a few seconds after showing her such a smile, she nonchalantly declared ‘executions’ for her servants.

Peter and Ace aside, she could somewhat be at ease with Vivaldi because she was a fellow woman as well. She was a proud and beautiful person. There were many things she admired about her, but when all was said and done, that brutal hobby of hers was far from normal.

Then, what did it mean to be “normal”? Amongst her few options, Alice thought it over.

At the very least, someone she could have a back and forth conversation with. Someone without animal ears coming out of their head, and who wasn’t always quickly drawing their gun every time she saw them.

Truth be told, there was barely anyone in Alice’s vicinity who met even those few modest conditions. It seemed like a lie, but all the more because it was the truth, she was at a loss.

‘What. Why are you staring so hard at me?’

‘No, it’s nothing.’

Nevertheless, it was still difficult to say outright that Julius was normal. He was only interested in his work, and spent his entire life holed up in the Clock Tower fixing clocks all day long, hardly ever making contact with other people. So complete was his concentration that even food and sleep were an afterthought.

However, as he did not lightly commit murder like the others, relatively speaking, he could be classified as normal.

To begin with, it couldn’t be said that Alice, who was well aware that she was a gloomy and contrary person, had the right to be criticizing other people’s personalities so minutely.

‘Hey, Julius. You’ve known Peter for a long time, right?’

Placing a chair near his workbench, she asked him the question head on.

‘Was he always like that?’

‘......What do you mean “like that”?’

‘I’m asking you if he was always annoying, one-sidedly stubborn and a stalker.’

‘He’s always been the first two, but I don’t know about being a stalker.’

Julius continued while inserting a screw into the clock he was working on.

‘Why are you asking me about Peter White? We’re just acquaintances, it is not as if we’re close.’

‘Of course I know that. Peter doesn’t seem like the type to have close friends.’

Like this, even while acting as if she was a bother, Julius would go along with Alice’s conversation. Fundamentally, he was a kind-hearted person.

‘If you already know, all the more reason not to ask me. ……Good grief, is there something wrong with you? Why would you come to me for love advice?’

‘......Wait a moment.’ Hearing words that she could not overlook, Alice directed a stern gaze towards Julius. ‘Did you just say “love advice”?’

‘? What about it?’

‘What do you mean “what about it”? Don’t get the wrong idea!’

She slammed her hands onto his desk with a bang and protested.

‘Why would I be asking for love advice…..?! And in the first place, who are you saying is in love with whom?!’

‘You sure are a noisy one. Of course I’m talking about you and Peter White. If you just want to brag about your love life, go somewhere else.’

‘~~~~~~~~~!’

Wondering exactly what he had heard to think she was after love advice, Alice was indignant. She was so indignant, she had trouble speaking. His interpretation was so completely the opposite of the actual situation, she felt like her head was spinning.

‘Julius…… it’s not as if you don’t know what that guy did to me, right? When I was first brought into this world, you saw part of what happened, didn’t you?’

Alice, having been pulled in by Peter into a hole that had suddenly appeared in the garden at her home, had come out onto the top level of this Clock Tower before she had even realized it. The one who had also happened to be there at the time was none other than Julius, the person currently sitting before her.

‘Just remembering it pisses me off. …..That jerk, making me drink that weird medicine……’

Shaking in anger, Alice gripped the vial she had tucked away in the pocket of her apron dress.

When they had arrived at the Clock Tower, the first thing Peter had done was make her drink the contents of the vial via mouth-to-mouth.

Mouth-to-mouth.

In other words, he had kissed her.

Of all things, it had not been enough for him to just kidnap her, he had also forcefully stolen her lips as well.

Alice had gotten her revenge for the time being, giving him a good punch in the face, but her anger had not yet completely abated.

What effect had the medicine had on her body, and for what objective had Peter made her drink it?

The answers to those questions were still a mystery, but after he had made her drink it through his mouth, he had definitely said,

‘This is the medicine of Heart. Now that you have drunk it, you must participate in the game. Until you have gathered enough hearts to fill the amount you have drunk, you will not be able to return to your original world.’

The details of the game he had proposed were certainly deranged, befitting of a deranged rabbit. Was there anyone alive who would simply agree and answer, ‘Why sure I will!’ when ordered to ‘Drink the medicine of hearts in the Country of Hearts and gather hearts’?

‘............’

‘What’s with you since just now? Stop looking at a person as if you’re holding a grudge.’

‘It’s not “as if”, I really am holding a grudge,’ Alice immediately snapped back. ‘.....When Peter forced his kiss on me, you were right there but didn’t do anything to stop him. You’re terrible.’

‘Wha-……you’re still holding something like that against me?’

Julius sighed with a worn out expression on his face.

Alice knew all too well that her resentment was unjustified. It was Peter who was at fault, and there was no wrongdoing on Julius’ part. It was just that since long ago and even now, he had decided that he would remain a bystander.

‘I told you before. I have no interest in the relationship between you and the White Rabbit. Don’t hold a grudge against me, but the turn of events that led you to be loved by such a troublesome man.’

As she thought he might, he sharply detached himself from the situation.

Julius’ stance on the topic would not waver. Despite the Clock Tower’s position in the center of the Country of Hearts, he did not involve himself at all in the territorial disputes. With the approach of maintaining his independence by not making himself anyone’s ally, not pandering to others was Julius’s way of life.

It wasn’t quite possible to say the Tower was a complete safe zone, but in this place, time passed more quietly and peacefully than anywhere else. That was likely the reason she kept coming here, undiscouraged by the harshness of its master.

‘You’re still the same as ever, Julius. But I feel relieved.’

Shrugging her shoulders, Alice smiled.

Being pushed away made her feel at ease. This kind of treatment suited her just fine.

Alice knew she didn’t have the kind of personality people found easy to like. In the real world she thought her personality was almost the ruin of her, always somehow or other causing strife in her personal relationships.

However in this world everyone was kind to Alice, and held unconditional good will towards her. She couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at an environment that was so excessively convenient for her. Even though it was a dream…… No, all the more because it was a dream, it was futile. Perhaps it was like this because deep within her unconscious mind, she wanted to be loved by everyone.

A personality that is beloved doesn't suit me. I'm different from my big sister.

Even if I were upside down, I can't become a pure person like my sister. And so for now, she didn't need to be loved by anyone. Like or dislike, a crush or love, for the time being, she wanted to live at a distance from such emotions.

'You're really a strange one. The Castle or the Amusement Park must be much more fun for you than a gloomy place like this.'

Julius murmured while looking slightly fed up. His seemingly fussy look softened a little.

'.....But, don't get used to this place. That is, if a part of you still wishes to return home.'

After saying this, he at last closed his mouth and ceased to speak.

*

Since Julius was now fully immersed in his work, Alice had no choice but to leave the Tower.

The day time period was always good weather. It was never windy, and the sun equally blessed the trees and flowers with its light. It wasn't just during the day, this world's weather always maintained a comfortable temperature, neither too hot nor too cold.

As Alice came out of a path from the forest, which twinkled with the light of the sun spilling through the gaps in the trees, she could hear pleasant music.

As if lured by the sound, her footsteps naturally started to head towards the Amusement Park. The area around the colourful gates was bustling with families and couples. It did not very much look like a place that was part of the territorial wars, but rather a place that looked as if it should be called the picture of peace.

—She didn’t really feel like visiting the amusement park right now, though.

She didn’t necessarily want to bask in the fairytale-like atmosphere of the place, nor did she particularly feel like forgetting her troubles by screaming it out on one of the thrill rides. She simply did not want to return to Heart Castle just yet. Having left the Clock Tower, she had walked on as if to avoid the Castle and its surrounds, which meant she would reach either the territory of Hatter’s Mansion or the Amusement Park eventually.

Alice took out a single ticket from inside her pocket.

It was a visitor’s passport that she had received from Gowland, the park’s owner, some time ago. Not only was she able to enter the park for free, it seemed as if having it allowed her to skip the queues and enjoy any of the attractions whenever she wanted.

—Gowland. That’s right, Gowland.

His real name was Mary Gowland. It truly was an absurd name, however he was one of the people in this world who could just barely be classified as normal.

He was mild-mannered, friendly and helpful. At any rate, he was someone capable enough to serve as owner of the Amusement Park. Unlike a certain Clockmaker, he had a lively disposition for good customer service— although at times he was a little too lively, destroying people’s eardrums with one of the destructively godawful violin performances he was so proud of.

Nonetheless, at his core, he was a good person.

And, most importantly, he didn’t have rabbit ears growing out of the top of his head, and wasn't a stalker. The fact that she was at the point where if someone could clear just those conditions, she would think of them as mostly normal, meant Alice’s standards for what was "normal" had grown quite slack.

‘Welcome, Lady Alice!’

The female employee at the gate called out to her cheerfully. Having visited the Park many times now, she and the people working here had become well acquainted.

‘Hello. Hey, is Gowland here?’

Right now, Alice really, really wanted to have a conversation with someone normal. She wanted to get normal advice from a normal person, and arrive at a normal conclusion.

Whether she had sensed Alice’s modest wish or not, the employee gave an exemplary customer service smile and merrily replied, ‘Yes, of course!’

‘If you mean the owner, then yes of course, he is here~!’

‘Really? I’m glad.’

‘Yes, he’s right over there! See!’

By chance, Gowland was there, just over at the place she was pointing at.

Delighted at her good fortune, Alice went to run over to him, 

‘Gowlan-…..’

She started to call out to him, but then her footsteps stopped.

Gowland was definitely there. However, he was not smiling his usual kind smile. The seemingly composed gaze behind his glasses shone with a dangerous light and his brow was furrowed grimly. His tall and burly figure, which stood out because of the cheerful-looking suit with a motif of musical notes and rocking horses he was wearing, emanated a clearly murderous aura.

‘That bastard…… I’m gonna kill him……’

Alice felt a chill down her spine at hearing such a bloodthirsty sentence.

His figure as he paced back and forth carrying a large rifle was madness personified. Children who sensed this alarming atmosphere began to cry one after the other. Of course, anyone who saw the normally good-natured Amusement Park owner marching about with a face like a demon would want to cry, and to run away. Needless to say, that included Alice as well.

‘......Where did he run off to, that blasted cat! I’m gonna catch him and turn him into cat stew!’

With a man who was currently in a state that was difficult to call ‘normal’ before her, Alice slowly began to back away.

—Ah, that’s right. I forgot. Gowland was this kind of guy.

He was a good person. That was without a doubt. However, for all that he was normally a good guy, his reaction when someone incurred his wrath was far too extreme. The moment he snapped it was over, heedless of the safety of the park’s visitors and employees, he would start recklessly firing his rifle all over the place. Nonetheless, his anger did not subside so easily.

‘Looks like it’s bad timing~! My condolences!’

The employee brightly apologized. For her, it must have been a sight she was used to seeing, but Alice couldn’t yet quite view it so philosophically. She was simply scared.

‘I-I think I might go home after all-......’

—Bang, bang!

‘Kyaaaaaah!’

Hearing gunfire, Alice instantly dropped to the ground and took cover.

A billboard painted with a picture of a clown was mercilessly blasted into the air. The gunfire did not stop there, and all kinds of things, from colourful flowers in the flower beds, balloons, and the glass in the buildings’ windows got destroyed one after the other. The sound of screaming grew louder as the smell of gunpowder in the air grew thicker.

‘Come out, Boris! I won’t forgive you this time! I’m gonna kill you!’

Somehow or other, it seemed as if he was hunting for Boris.

As she was coldly thinking well, in that case it would be nice if he would turn up as soon as possible then so that things would settle down here,

‘Sheesh, he really needs to cut it out. What a pain in the ass.’

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ while nodding in agreement, Alice looked at the man next to her and then her eyes widened.

‘B-Boris!?’

Before she had noticed it, a cat man with pink ears was beside her. As far as Alice knew, there weren’t any other pink-eared cat men other than Boris. And speaking of Boris, he was currently a wanted man.

‘W-wait a minute, Boris…… What do you think you’re doing here?!’

‘What do you mean “what”? Something wrong with me being here? This is where I live, y'know, more or less.’

Boris answered her question somewhat sulkily.

There was nothing wrong with it. There was certainly nothing wrong with him being there, but having him next to her was rather inconvenient. She had a feeling her chances of getting mixed up in something were now very high.

‘By the way, could it be you came here to see me?’

‘Hah?’

‘Truth is, I’ve actually been wanting to see you as well recently.’

‘I-is that so. But, um……’

‘—Boris.’

Feeling a sharp gaze, Alice nervously turned to face the direction it came from.

The thin lenses of his glasses glinted. It was the moment a hunter emitting an aura of bloodlust spotted his prey. His rifle was pointed straight at Boris.

‘You bastard….. How dare you wreck my brand new attraction…..’

‘Uwah, this ain’t good.’

Boris, who had noticed Gowland, uncomfortably shrugged his shoulders.

‘A-Anyway, I didn’t really break it, ya know? That go-kart was so slow, it was totally boring. So I just played around with it a little. I think you should be thanking me, actually.’

‘You turned ten of them into scrap, and you want me to thank you…..?’

Bang bang bang!

Without a moment to spare, the sound of a gunshot reverberated. A bullet passed by right next to where Alice was.

‘Eek…….!’

‘Don’t shoot so suddenly old man! It’s dangerous, ya know?’

‘I am not an old man!’

An additional shot from Gowland’s rifle went off. As Boris contorted his body to avoid the bullet in a way that didn’t seem possible,

‘I call it like I see it. Sheesh, that’s what I hate about old timers, the more decrepit they get the less endurance they have!’

‘All right, you’ve got guts I’ll give you that…… So how about I close that mouth of yours for good!’

At Boris’ words, far from subsiding, it looked as if Gowland’s anger had reached its peak. And as she looked on, dumbfounded, someone grabbed her arm.

‘What are you spacing out for? Come on, let’s leave that old man behind and make a run for it.’

‘Huh? H-hey!’

His pink tail wiggled as it swayed as if in challenge. The chief culprit in stoking Gowland’s anger ran away, forcibly taking Alice with him. 

*

‘—Haah. I think we’ll be safe here now, Alice.’

As they came up towards a ferris wheel within the Park, Boris turned around and smiled proudly.

‘Not even the old man will chase us all the way here. At his age, when it comes to physical strength, there’s no way I would lo-......’

‘Why did you have to get me involved in this?!’

Bam, Alice directed a no-holds-barred punch towards his pink head. Because her attack was so sudden, Boris screamed, ‘Ouch!’ and held his head in his arms.

‘Just a little longer and I could have been killed! You and Gowland can fight all you want, but don’t cause trouble for other people. If you’re gonna fight, go do it out in the middle of the desert or something!’

‘Owie ouch…… Don’t be so angry.’

Without looking particularly ashamed, Boris scratched his head.

‘That old man isn’t an idiot, he wouldn’t let any bullets hit you. When he snaps he’s all over the place, but he never loses himself to the point that he’d hurt an Outsider like you. So you don’t need to worry, it’ll be alright.’

‘It definitely didn’t feel as if I was “all right”  though……’

No matter how good of a person Gowland was, she didn’t plan on being so naive as to completely trust someone she had not known for that long a time. There was still a pretty good chance she could be hit by a stray bullet.

‘And also, stop calling me an “Outsider.” I don’t like it.’

‘?’

‘I’m saying that I have a perfectly good name, “Alice Liddell.” Are you listening?’

‘Ow ow ow ow owwww!’

This time she had pulled hard on his cat ears. She had been so scared just now. She wanted to counter-attack by having him take at least this much in punishment.

‘A-alright, I get it! I’ll call you by your name. I won’t call you an Outsider. Happy now?’

‘I’m glad you understand,’ she said and quickly let go of his ears. ‘I certainly am an Outsider, but being stereotyped like that makes me mad. Feels like I’m being discriminated against somehow.’

“Outsider” was a word that identified those who were visitors from another world such as Alice.

According to Gowland, such extremely rare uninvited guests became lost in this world. In short, from their point of view, Alice was an “Outsider.” In that sense, being called one was not incorrect, however, for someone like her who had been kidnapped here against her will, she was a little reluctant to accept such a name.

‘Discrimination, huh……’

Boris sat down on a nearby bench, and the corners of his mouth lifted a little.

‘So by that you mean, you’ve gotten pretty used to this world, then?’

‘Hah?’

‘But I’m right, aren’t I?  You don’t want to be discriminated against. Doesn’t that mean you want to be treated as a resident of this world?’

The cat with a faint smile on his face, spoke those words, somehow full of confidence.

Obviously, Alice could not agree with his opinion whatsoever. She sighed deeply and sat down next to Boris.

‘Why would you think that?’

‘Eh, so I’m wrong?’

‘Of course. ……I’ve certainly grown used to living in this world. I’ve made a lot of acquaintances, and the people at the Castle treat me well. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ve decided not to return to my original world.’

It was often said that home was where you made it, and once she had gotten used to it, this world wasn’t so bad. Rather, she had even felt that it was quite comfortable.

As long as she turned a blind eye to Heart Castle’s over-the-top fairytale-like interior, there was no place more pleasant to have as her place of residence.

But no matter how pleasant it was, her family wasn’t here. Her school friends weren’t here. With all the things that were important to her left behind in the world of reality, Alice wasn’t so unfeeling that she could think it was fine to part with them forever.

‘Hmmm. You’re pretty cold, aren’t you.’

She didn’t need Boris to tell her that, she was well aware.

Although part of her thought that she should immerse herself in this fairytale world and think of it as a dream, another part of her held back. She didn’t have the courage to truly let herself go. Her attitude towards everything was always half-assed.

‘......My big sister always used to tell me. That “You should enjoy the world of stories more sincerely.” Whenever I read mystery novels I can’t calm down and read them through until I have someone tell me the twist and who the culprit is first. That’s the kind of boring person I am.’

Becoming unintentionally critical of herself, Alice slightly shook her head. Such negative thinking wasn’t fitting for the amusement park and such fine weather.

‘You aren’t boring at all. If you’re gonna say that, I’m way more boring than you. Suuuper normal, I am.’

‘......Normal?’

While looking him over from head to toe, Alice tilted her head in puzzlement. She had a feeling that having the kind of taste to declare such an idiosyncratic appearance as normal wasn’t normal in and of itself.

‘Yeah. I’m such an ordinary guy I get bored of myself. So ordinary you’d be shocked.’

‘............’

While Alice was unsure of how to respond, he all of a sudden brought his face close to peer into hers.

All the animals in this world had no sense of personal space. Since they came close to her with an overfamiliarity that was just like that of a pet, Alice couldn’t help but feel bewildered.

‘Speaking of boredom, how’s life at the Castle?’

‘“How” is it?’

‘It’s boring, right? A place like that. I mean, they don’t have thrill rides or a horror house, do they?’

‘W-Well yeah, they don’t have any thrill rides, but it’s not boring at all. It’s so comfortable I almost feel guilty. They’re all good people.’

Alice continued while pulling away from him.

‘......That’s right. Vivaldi and Ace are a bit odd, but they’re not bad people. The only problem one is that man……’

That man. Of course, she meant no one other than Peter White.

If she had one complaint in her luxurious lifestyle as a guest of state, it would have to be the existence of that ‘national-level stalker.’ If not for “that”, her life at the castle would have been very peaceful.

‘By “that man”, you mean the Prime Minister, don’t you?’

Boris asked her with a face as if he understood all about it.

‘You must be having a hard time too. Being liked by a troublesome guy like that. If it was me, I would just shoot him, no ifs or buts. Having him around looks like it would be such a pain.’

‘Yeah, yeah you’re right……!’

Alice’s hands shot out and took Boris’ as she faced him.

‘He’s a massive pain, that guy. Even though he doesn’t even know me all that well he’s always following me around, even when I tell him he’s a bother he never learns, and for some reason he thinks we’re in love, truuuuuuly unbelievable. It’s so absurd. Don’t you think?’

‘W-Well. I suppose so.’

At Alice’s impassioned complaints, this time Boris was the one that looked as if he wanted to pull away.

‘That guy’s unexpectedly pretty stubborn once he’s gotten an idea in his head. Yeah. Really, my condolences.’

‘Stubborn doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s crazy. That XXXXXX rabbit……!!’

Hearing such unladylike language come out of her mouth, Boris’ eyes widened further.

It seemed as if so much frustration had built up within her that she had ended up using quite vulgar language, the kind that would have her big sister collapse in shock had she heard it, the kind that her normally good girl-ish self would not say.

……However. Having said it, she did feel a little as if she'd gotten something off her chest. Just a little.

She certainly wasn't thinking of putting a round through that White Rabbit's head, like Boris and the other residents of this world would do, that was a bit much. What she really wanted— was for someone to listen to her complain and curse, and for them to sympathize with her. Just like her female classmates used to normally do, whenever something had pissed her off.

With just that simple desire fulfilled, Alice felt unexpectedly refreshed.

'Say Boris……you're more of a decent person than I thought.'

Even as she said it, she knew she was being somewhat rude. Sure enough, Boris raised an eyebrow and said,

'Is that a compliment? Not too sure how I feel about that.'

'Of course I'm complimenting you. I mean, your appearance, Boris, you've got pink cat ears, your hair and muffler are pink too, and your tail…..'

'You mean you didn't think a person who was pink all over could be decent? Haah, you're a lot more blunt than you look. And you seemed as if you wouldn't hurt a fly.'

'I-I'm sorry.'

It wasn't good to judge a person just based on their appearance. And as proof of that, this punk-looking gun maniac cat had shown Alice an unexpectedly normal sympathy. At the very least, he had acknowledged Peter's existence as the nuisance that it was, and had understood the pitiable position Alice was in. 

That alone made her happy. If there was just one person that would acknowledge that her feelings were not abnormal, Alice felt as if she wouldn’t lose sight of where she stood just yet.

‘I didn’t mean it in a bad way. In the world I used to live in, there weren’t any people that had pink hair or animal ears. So when I first came here, I wasn’t sure how to deal with those kinds of things.’

‘Hmm~ And now?’

‘Now……’

She was about to continue and say for now she didn’t hold any prejudices towards animal men, when Boris started to hold her hands tighter.

She immediately tried to free herself, but couldn’t. Boris drew closer to her while grinning as if pleased.

‘H-Hey-’

‘Listen. I’ve thought of a good idea.’ Shaking their held hands up and down enthusiastically, he spoke. ‘You’re having trouble because of the Prime Minister, right?’

‘Well, yeah.’

‘Then, he just needs to give up on you.’

‘If something like that was possible, I wouldn’t be having such a hard time. No matter what I do, he’s never discouraged, that guy.’

‘Really? It may be easier than you think. Like….. You and I could declare that we’re lovers in front of him.’

‘—What?’

Alice tilted her head, and stared back at the golden eyes that for some reason, shone with excitement.

‘Who are you saying are lovers?’

‘You and me,’ Boris repeated himself, as if it were no big deal.

‘If you have someone special to you, even the Prime Minister himself might have to change his tune a little, right? It would be best if he saw that there was no chance at all of you giving him the time of day.’

‘............’

Setting aside any comments she might have on the content of Boris’ plan of action, she could see that it did make a certain amount of sense.

It was possible that the reason Peter’s passion had yet to abate, was that he still had a ray of hope regarding a relationship with Alice. Although Alice, for her part, did not at all remember doing anything that would have caused him to have any such hopes.

‘It may be as you say, Boris.’

‘Right? So then……’

‘But I can’t.’ Alice stated her refusal point-bank. ‘Much as I would like to do something about Peter, I don’t really want to tell a lie like that. Even though you went so far as to think up a countermeasure to help me, sorry.’

It wasn’t as if Alice necessarily felt guilty about lying. She simply didn’t feel as if she had the confidence to do a good job of it. Getting their stories straight beforehand, conducting herself so there would be no contradictions, just thinking of the effort it would take to get her mind around all the details made her head hurt. Frivolous lies only caused more trouble.

‘......Uwah. You really are such a square.’

Boris sighed as if exasperated. He was probably thinking she was rather inflexible.

‘And anyway, I’m not saying we should lie. We should just make it the truth, and not a lie. If we’re lovers for real, there won’t be any problems.’

‘Huh?’

Alice frowned. What was this cat saying?

There very much were a lot of problems with what he was saying. A whole bunch of them. She didn’t think he was being serious, but for a pickup line it was too thoughtless.

'Well, for now, whether it's true or not doesn't matter. It'd be better if it was for real though.'

'Um, I appreciate the thought, but I don't plan on-'

'No need to worry. I'll make it good.'

In high spirits, Boris gave Alice a wink.

'I was getting sick of hunting mice, so it's good timing. Sometimes it's good to play with a different kind of animal.'

Next - Chapter 2

[obeysalsaverde]

OM head canon - Giving you a bandaid

Head canons for the OM characters giving you a bandaid for a small cut! It's mostly fluff with a teeny bit of angst woven in there.

Lucifer

It's just a sensible, totally standard bandaid. But he keeps one on hand just in case you need one. He must take good care of the exchange student, after all.

"Come here, MC. Show me. Alright, hold still."

He'll gently place the bandaid where it's needed, but his hand will linger there a moment longer.

"There. Be more careful next time," he says with a serious look. But then a smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. "I expect that you will make a full recovery."

Mammon

The bandaid has a pattern of little Grimm coins. He says they're lucky bandaids. But he'll claim that he only had them on hand in case you needs one, since he's your guardian.

He'll gripe about how fragile humans are as he grabs the injured limb and applies the bandaid.

"Jeez, whaddam I gonna do with ya, huh?"

He acts like taking care of you is such a hassle, but you can tell how worried he is about even a little papercut just from the way he keeps looking at you.

Leviathan

The bandaid has Ruri-chan print on it. You are not surprised.

He totally feels like an anime protagonist as he covers the little cut with the bandaid. He also feels like this is normie behaviour. This is conflicting.

"You know, you're the only person I'd do this sort of normie thing for. Hm? Of course I have Ruri-chan bandaids! I could never call myself an Otaku or a true Ruri-fan if I didn't buy these the moment I saw them!"

He blushes a lot but is secretly really smug that he got to help patch you up.

Satan

Has cat themed bandaids. He tends to get scratches if he plays with a boisterous kitty who hasn't learned not to scratch yet, or if he needs to rescue a cat that is scared because it's stuck somewhere and it can't understand that he's trying to help. So it's worth having some bandaids with him.

"Your skin is far more delicate than mine," he says as he slips the bandaid over the cut. "Try to be more careful next time, okay?"

His hand lingers over the bandaid after he smooths it out. He gives you a serious look, like he worries for you so much when he remembers just how fragile humans are.

Asmodeus

There are no patterns, but all of his bandaids are a shade of pink. He's got hot pink, pastel pink, barbie pink . . . Which pink would you like?

Makes sure to touch you as much as possible when he applies the bandaid for you. Stroking the skin around where you're hurt with gentle fingers.

"Here, Asmo-chan will kiss it better for you. Mwah~" He presses his lips over the bandaid and then winks at you. Then he gets a more serious look. "But do be more careful! You don't want to end up with scars!"

He gives you some extra kisses for good measure. They are not necessarily anywhere near your injury.

Beelzebub

You're kinda surprised that it's just a standard plain bandaid until he explains that he did buy some with little burger patterns on them, but . . . he ate them. 🤦‍♀️

His fingers are so big, he struggles to open the bandaid, but he's determine to take care of you. He doesn't want to hurt you more, so he is extra careful when he applies the bandaid. He gives you the brightest most genuine Beelzebub smile when he's done.

"There, all better," he says. He probably pats your head when he stands up and he'll definitely invite you to get a snack together.

Belphegor

He's got little cows printed on his bandaids. If you snicker at this, he will give you a challenging look as if daring you to make fun of him.

He is pretty quiet while he puts the bandaid on, like he's brooding, but he's gentle. His hands linger over the place he applies it and he gives you a firm look.

"Be more careful. I don't want to see you get hurt ever again."

He looks away quickly. You know he's referring to his own crimes, despite how long ago that was and how close you've grown since. Cuddles are now required.

Diavolo

He has so many cute patterned bandaids because he found out about them when he was preparing a human friendly first aid kit to keep at RAD. His personal favourite is the yellow one with the black Batman logo.

He treats getting to apply the bandaid like a bit of fun, though he is careful to handle you gently and make sure it sticks properly.

"Now, you put one on me too, so that we match!" he says with excitement, providing access to the same spot on himself.

He'll make sure to show Lucifer as soon as possible. "Look Lucifer, MC and I match!"

Barbatos

Has a full human friendly first aid kit hiding on his person at all times. This butler is prepared for anything. He opts for the bright blue variety often used in food preparation settings. He's practical like that.

He'll assess the cut carefully and make sure it's clean before he applies the bandaid. He does it like an expert, but then he makes you meet his gaze.

"Do be careful in future, MC. You are quite precious to all of us."

Simeon

He has cute puppy dogs on his bandaid.

"Don't tell anyone, but I chose these with Luke in mind," he confides with a gentle laugh.

He hums to you while he applies the bandaid and then presses his lips so softly over the top and smiles.

"There, much better. You'll be good as new in no time."

Solomon

The bandaid he gives you has little stars on it and he's enchanted it to help your cut heal faster.

"I haven't had to do this for another human in a long time," he says. There's a strained look on his face after he says it, but it is gone just as fast as it appeared. You recognise his grief, but you don't say anything.

He places the bandaid on your cut a little crooked, but it gets the job done.

"Some day, I'll show you how to enchant a bandaid too," he promises.

[wri0thesley]

Imagine creepy roommate Tomura moves in… you’re stating to feeling watched… underwear vanishing for no reason… and the tiny led on your computer cam keeps blinking since you pleaded him to repair it… only to be told you that it’s “normal for that model to do that”.

And then you’re starting to find a “weird substance” on your sheets and pillows that you immediately brush off as drool or something like that.

And everytime he cooks ramen it’s always a little too salty for your tastes.

cw: not sfw text, voyeurism, general creepy behaviour

creepy roommate tomura . . . please. everything you own is so fresh and pretty! all of your plates are floral-patterned and you always look so concerned about him, even went out of your way to buy him some lotions for sensitive skin and place them delicately beside his 3-in-1 (shampoo, conditioner, and body wash!) in the bathroom, not making a big deal out of it. your clothes all smell like some kind of sweet laundry detergent; even your laptop is pink with cute stickers all over it (if he is begrudgingly impressed by your steam library; that just makes him think of you wearing a pair of those cat-ear gamer girl headphones sitting on his lap).

it's your fault, for being so sweet and nice and probably just as much of a bitch as everyone else has always been to him, deep down inside. which is why all of your underwear keeps going missing. which is why you have to replace your (cute, floral, patterned) pillow cases so often. better hope you didn't have any nudes on your laptop or in your cloud! better hope you're not mindlessly browsing anywhere that sells more . . . adult items. you leave your laptop on one night, whilst you sleep, playing some asmr white noise video to try and help your restless dreams, and tomura spends eight hours staring at your body in a skimpy pair of pale blue silk pyjamas and listening to the soft huffs you make as he's pretty fucking sure you have a wet dream.

the ramen is his one attempt to be a 'good' roommate, because he spends most of his time in the dark cave that passes as his room (you occasionally knock on his door, chirp that you bought some more of his favourite snacks and favourite energy drinks, that you're going to do the vacuuming in about a half hour and you're sorry about the noise - and all of his guild chuckle, make jokes about how he's such a pussy for not just jumping your bones right there and then.) you smile at him and say something sweet about how you don't mind doing the cooking, not mentioning the lingering aftertaste of the ramen - you tell him it's nice to be making stuff for two people! (sometimes you bake, and tomura lopes into the kitchen to see you wearing an apron and smelling like vanilla and he hates that the sight of you bent down and domestic and asking him teasingly if he wants to lick the spoon makes his cock throb in his sweatpants.)

maybe a few of his guild friends get sent pictures, taken from your laptop - the ones you wouldn't have wanted him to see (but tomura knows how to go digging around in deleted files). maybe he gets a little pissy when dabi sends back a long rambling diatribe about what he'd do to you if you were his roommate, and how tomura's pathetic--

he guesses he is, when he jerks himself off with his face buried in a pair of your panties and a picture you'd sent to an online paramour of you on your knees with your mouth wide open and tongue stuck out (a paramour that you thought had simply ghosted, but that tomura had actually helpfully warned off with a threat of doxxing and leaking his own nudes) on his phone as he secretly kind of hopes you'll walk in on him--

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

---

Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

---

Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

---

Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi!! I was wondering if maybe you could write a Wade x plus size reader? Maybe she’s an ex pro thief and gets put with him for a mission or smth?? I got no idea man just have fun with it aye

Thank you for the request!!!!! Sorry for the wait!

I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be dirty or not so I sectioned that part off in case it's not what you're looking for :)

You are my first ever request! So, thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope you enjoy it <3

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Thieving, being exceptionally attractive while doing it. Wade on his best behaviour, Smut is sectioned off.

You haven't accepted a mission in 4 years.

You got out of the business and left those “friends” and “friend circles” behind you after you scored your dream internship. 4 years and you were running your own team and writing a semi successful blog. It was a quiet life, and you enjoyed it immensely. You liked your team members, and you felt they found you a fair and caring boss. Your cat Mr. Sparkles was a healthy weight and had finally committed to using the litter box.

You don't know why you answered when he called you, you don’t know why you agreed to such fuckery. But here you were pulling out a familiar black box out of the bottom of your cluttered closet. You picked it up and placed it on your bed. The dark colour contrasted with your bright and colourful décor. Something you found oddly reflective, once you moved on from that part of your life nothing was dark. Everything in your apartment was covered by color and patterns that made you happy.

You opened the box. You and Mr. Sparkles looked at the contents like there was a wild octopus about to come flying out of it.

“It was the right thing to do.” You said out loud. “And it's going to pay well.”

Pulling the tight outfit over your curves felt better than you thought it would. You figured that it would cause you panic or anxiety. Instead you felt a wave of confidence looking yourself over in the mirror that hung on the back of your bedroom door. Normally you were covered in bright flowy clothes, that's what you liked. Your whole life was built upon being invisible since you were little. Now that you were in charge every day was a celebration in its own way. However this made you feel sexy, the outfit was sleek and left nothing to the imagination. Pulling your long hair into a tight french braid you were ready to get out there and do some thieving.

You kissed Mr. Sparkles and gave your aloe vera plant a light touch on your way out the window. It was a hot summer night and the air was muggy. These were your favorite kinds of nights to sit out on the fire escape, have some drinks, read books, and watch the city. It was lonely, but enjoyable nonetheless.

You got up to the roof and plotted your course to the impossible house. You misstepped a couple of times before falling into your usual rhythm. You contemplated whether you were doing this because the small piece of art should be with the family it belongs too. Or if you were doing this because you had some kind of Ocean’s 11 complex that kept you hungry for such challenges. It was an impossible place to break into, the floor of the old house containing the art work was covered with laser security. A piece of knowledge that should make your stomach flip, but only makes your heart feel funny.

You got yourself into position on the roof of the low building that was across the street, you took a few minutes to survey and eventually came to the conclusion that conditions were perfect. You made your way to the 3rd floor balcony. You knew of the owner’s, an awfully cruel man and his lover. They were asleep on the 5th floor of the house. Well, city mansion? Whatever, the point is it didn't feel like a home, it felt like something a royal family would keep when they came to visit. Lots of expensive art and velvet curtains. Massive gold and crystal chandeliers hung from mirrored ceilings framed with fancy crown molding. You did your research in the few hours you had after the job request had come in, there was a - *insert super fancy techno security laser system name here.* And it was said to be unbeatable. No gymnast or other cat-like thief had been able to tango with it. You had been challenged by its precursors but had got out of the game by the time this puppy had made it out on the market.

You picked the lock on the double doors, and slid past the heavy curtains and disabled the basic alarm system for the floor. Surveying the area you saw the lasers slowly dancing like it was a Pink Floyd tribute at the local planetarium. (something you attend regularly) You took a deep breath and got ready to disco your way across the floor to the small framed painting of a sun set. You put a headphone in and set the song *put on a song you would rob a bank to*. You began the journey. People often felt that your size and shape made you incompetent or ungraceful. You learned early on in life not to listen to stupid people say stupid things. You were the best, perhaps because you weren't afraid to look stupid or ridiculous. You bended and snapped, ducked and dodged, twirled and flipped. And just like that you reached your target. The second you lifted it off the wall, the lasers stopped. You pulled your knife and twirled around ready for a fight. What you saw was not what you expected, across the room none other than Wade freaking Wilson was looking at you.. Normally you hated being stared at like that, but he was a “friend” you found particularly challenging to leave behind. The whites of his mask were wide. After making a whole bunch of strange gestures with his hands, he held up a finger motioning you to be quiet. He disappeared towards what you figured would be the staircase going up to the next floor. If he gave you a clear shot at an exit you knew he had trouble with him. So you took your out.

You got back up on the rooftop across the street, you grabbed the bag you left there and secured the painting. You pulled out a large black piece of cotton and tossed it around your shoulders like a shall. This made your outfit look less stealth and more passion for leather/night out on the town. Making your way down the fire escape on the side of the building you saw the target house explode.

I guess Wade hasn't changed any.

You picked up the pace feeling anxious to get to Sister Margrets. Making your way through the city unnoticed, you went into the shitty establishment through the alleyway door. You wasted no time moving through the hallway into the servers entrance spitting you out behind the bar. You kept by the entrance which kept you out of sight, you didn't want to see any more friends tonight. Weasel jumped when he turned around and saw you there looming in the shadows, spilling the drink he had just made.

“Fuck” He quickly remade the drink then moved back to where you were standing. He had a large envelope of cash for which you handed him the back pack. You felt slightly relieved.

“Hey I know you moved on, but thanks for this.”

“No problem”

You turned around and went out the way you came in. Opening the door that leads back to the alley way, you notice a very large and slightly singed body blocking your exit.

“Stay for a drink?” His voice caused something in you to stir. Something you were not going to explore.

“Sorry Wade but no can do” You pushed past him and began walking down the street.

“Pretty pleaseeeee” he said with a sing song voice. You tried not to smile. He caught up to you so he was walking beside you. “If your not a big drinker anymore we could go for diner, tacos!, Sushi, chicken nuggets, you always loved a good chicken nugget” You tuned him out as he kept chattering a list of every food he could remember eating together. You had to figure out somewhere to go as you weren't leading him back to your apartment. Going in random directions, he spoke up.

“I know you live on *Insert cute street name here*”

“What the fuck Wilson?”

“Well you disappeared and I wanted to make sure you weren't being unalived. This means if we head back to yours we can do take out and homemade drinks, which in my opinion is much better anyway. I make the best margaritas in the city.”

You started the walk back towards your apartment. Trying desperately to come up with a way to leave him at the front of the building. The thought of him in your very personal, very colourful, even bordering on childish apartment made you unbelievably anxious. Every time you looked over at his slightly charred body you couldn't help a strange feeling welling up inside you. You got to the front door to the building and turned to look up at him. There was a long pause as you struggled for words.

“It's alright. It was a nice walk.” You could hear the layers of sadness underneath his tone. You were going to tell him that it was a nice walk and that maybe one day when things were better for you they could get that drink. Then you were going to threaten him into keeping everything a secret.

“I don't have stuff for margaritas.” The wrong words left your mouth but for a fleeting moment you actually didn't want him to leave.

“Are you sure?” Hey sounded very serious which caught you off guard and confused you a little.

“Yeah, normally I just drink stuff out of a can” You were terrible at mixing drinks, they were always way too sweet and strong and lead to trouble. Wade gave a big laugh. “Are you okay to pick up the stuff if I get changed?”

“You betcha.” He did a twirl, blew you a kiss, then headed down the street.

You dashed up to your apartment and started to hide your more personal stuff. Grabbing an armful of clean laundry off the couch, tossing it into an empty bin in the closet. You were so busy trying to hide your stuffed animals and random fan art, that you didn't notice him standing in the fire escape landing looking at you from the large open window.

“Damn. This was not what I was expecting.” He said, sounding surprised. “This isn't what your old place looked like at all”

“Uh” Your face got hot and you refused to look at him. “I ah don't have people over so um yeah. You can go now.”

“Nonononononono. This is a huge bit of progress from everything being varying shades of grey and uncomfortable.” Wade took the place in as he made his way to your kitchen. Placing the big brown bags on the counter top, and sliding the blender out from against the bright backsplash.

"Uh I'm going to get cleaned up. Help yourself to everything." You ran into the bathroom and freshened up and were very grateful to be out of the leather and into your summer pj's. They were more on the revealing side but you never found Wade the type to care or be creepy.

Coming out you found him very comfortable whirling around the kitchen. It looked like he had made a giant frying pan of pad thai and the blender was full. Turning around to see you he picked you up and sat you on the counter top like you were nothing more than a bottle of the many sauces he currently had out. He handed you one of your favorite rainbow glasses filled with margarita. Your brain was still trying to calm down from him picking you up like that.

"Thanks" you said with an even redder face.

"No problem, hot stuff" he divided the food into two plates, you led him out to sit on the fire escape with you. It was a sacred space, it felt weird to be there with a real live person. After the most delicious plate of food ever, many drinks, and laughs about the good old days things quieted down leaving a thick tension between the two of you. You realized you owed him an apology of sorts.

"Wade, I'm sorry I didn't give you a proper goodbye. I just had a life of running and I couldn't risk anyone fucking me over again."

"It's alright babe. I understand why you did it." His voice was low and sad and it made your heart hurt. You didn't want the night to end.

"Thanks for keeping my place here a secret."

"No problem. Do you think mayyybe now that I know about your situation we could do this again sometime?"

"You have no idea how nice that would be." You really meant it having him around was the most fun you'd had in a very long time. You didn't have to pretend or beat around the bush about anything with Wade. Nothing was too dark or silly or messed up.

"Well I guess this is my cue." He made to stand up but you grabbed his knee without thinking.

"Uh if you want to. You could also stay for a while." He turned his head to the side, bright eyes looking you over. "You could take a shower and I've definitely got a shirt and some boxers I could lend you." His eyes got wider. "They're mine. They're really…. comfy…" you would never understand how he made you so embarrassed.

"Uh, not sure about that… it just…" he motioned to the rest of his body.

"I've seen your face. It won't bother me" you looked up at him with empathetic eyes, part of you hoping that maybe they came across as bedroom eyes. You gave yourself a mental slap.

"If you're uncomfortable, that's okay too." You said, giving him a kind smile. You could tell there was an internal battle. So you gave him a minute.

"Alright that sounds nice. It's a fucking mess under here tho."

You went into your bathroom and found your gentlest scent free soap and a soft towel. Then into your room to find a giant t-shirt and your biggest pair of boxer shorts.

You put it into a nice pile in the bathroom.

"Okay there's some nice soap, it's natural scent free, made of angel's tears or some shit and a clean towel and clothes in there for you."

Wade shifted around you into the bathroom. "Thanks"

You flopped onto your bed and looked up at your glow star collection that littered the ceiling. You heard the water start running and you closed your eyes. Until your herd some very loud and off key Britney Spears. You couldn't help but laugh. Soon enough he was out and flopped onto the bed next to you.

"Man this is the best sleepover ever."

"If this has been your best sleepover with a chick I feel sorry for you. And her." You joked.

"Sorry enough for a pity cuddle." You know what the look he gave you meant. He was testing the waters to see what kind of night this was gonna be. You couldn't help but feel the need to challenge it.

"We could cuddle… or we could do other stuff then cuddle." You'd thought of all the reasons this was a bad idea. But voices weren't loud enough over the sound of your heart beating. He leaned in closer, fingers brushing your cheek.

"You sure that's not a margaritas talking?"

"Very sure." You said eyes locked with his.

"Why now?" It was a good question. One you had to think about.

"I don't think I ever was really myself. Like I was as much of myself as I could be while hurting that much. Now I'm happy and I enjoy things differently"

"Hmmm I noticed that. I think I got to know you more in the past few hours than I had when we were friends. You actually laugh now. At jokes and not just crazy like when things are exploding" he moved his hand to run through your hair and you couldn't hold back a soft moan. It had been so very long since someone had touched you.

You felt his lips press into your forehead. You'd thought about Wade before but he was in a relationship, then she died, and Wade wasn't himself for a long time. You'd figured if you were something he wanted he'd make it clear considering the dude flirted with everyone. You'd always had a secret fear that maybe you went his type. Vanessa was short and very tiny, other than her you were only sure of one other and that was Cable, who was serious, fit, tall, and massive. You were a good height and curvy as all hell. Suddenly you felt self conscious. But then he put his hands on either side of your face tilting your head up to meet his. You opened your eyes and they focused in on his lips. They were so close it caused the air in your lungs to get stuck.

"You're pretty quiet. You sure you wanna try to do other things. We can jump right to cuddling if that's better for right now?"

You looked up to meet his eyes.

"Is that what you want?" You tried your best to have it come out casually.

"Not really."

Your eyes migrated back down to his lips and you shuffled closer. You wanted to kiss him so badly you felt like your body was on fire.

"You can take whatever you want baby"

******************PSA: Dirty stuff below ;)*********************

That's all the permission you needed. You moved in and softly pressed your lips into his, then took things deeper. It didn’t take much for your breathing to become ragged, you were trying desperately to take the kiss further.

Eventually you bit his bottom lip and whimpered, finally he agreed, his hands tightened on your face and your tongues started to battle it out. You wanted to win, so you moved to straddle him. Finally accomplishing some friction between the two of you, you could feel your panties sliding against your wet folds. This only lasted for a few glorious seconds, before he flipped you on to your back quickly moving to pin your arms above your head.

He started moving south leaving a red hot trail of destruction behind him. There was only so much your tank top would allow, Wade seemed very content palming your right breast while biting on the flesh beneath your left collar bone. You on the other hand wanted your goddamn clothes off.

You tried to break his grip and moaned when you realized such a task would only be accomplished by hurting him. He really had you trapped there, a piece of knowledge that only made you want your clothes off more. His grip on your breast tightened and his smirking lips took a long pull on the hardened nub that was poking up benthe the cotton of your top. You couldn't help your back arching. Finally, after paying respects to your other breast, he pulled back to look at you. He squeezed your wrists.

“Stay”

God he was so bossy. Something that divided you internally. A part of you wanted to push it, see how hard he would dig into you, and the other part was desperate to behave and be good. You decided you would be good, for now. He sat up, leaning back on his knees in between your legs. Slowly his fingers brushed across the soft skin of your stomach, then his hands ran up along your torso taking your shirt with them. Feeling his scarred hands trail lightly across you sent shivers through your body. You felt him cup and knead your breasts for a moment before pulling your top over your head. He took a long look at you which made you feel delicious. No one had ever pulled out this side of you before. Kissing down your stomach he stopped at the waistband of your shorts. He took your left leg and used it to flip you over, somehow taking your shorts off at the same time. There you were ass up naked and loving every second of it. His big hands came down to smack your ass, a loud noise of please ran out of your mouth along with most of the air in your lungs. Enjoying the response he did it again then started kneading the flesh.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy.” You felt his hands slide down to grip the tops of your thighs. You arched your back further resting your head on the bed. “Good girl.” The words hit you like a bullet but before you had time to find your footing his hot mouth was all over you wet folds.

His skilled tongue painting some kind of masterpiece, he was touching you everywhere but where you really desperately wanted it. But this seemed to be the way he operated, and you weren't complaining. After feeling like he had been everywhere, he started to circle that tight ball of nerves and you couldn't help but let out a shout. Pleasure was ripping through your body, things were starting to get hot and tight inside you, when all of a sudden those glorious lips closed in and created some heavenly suction. You couldn't stop your hips from bucking, this earned a heavy slap on your right ass cheek.

“Fuck fuck fuckf cukkkk ah” It quickly became too much, your orgasm hit you like a train, whole body tensing up then finally crashing down. Wade kept up the rhythm letting you ride it out. Finally pulling away when it became too much. He snaked his arm up your front to grab the front of your neck pulling you up on to your knees, angling your face so he could kiss you deeply. Putting on a show of how good you tasted. After a long moment of heated kissing, he positioned you so you were laying on your back again. Giving you a few moments to catch your breath.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked softly.

“Yes please.” you answered politely.

“Alright but, it's everywhere. All over me. So doggy style is generally best for this next part. If you wanna do it that way, I'm also just happy making you scream like this too.”

“Wade, we can stop if you need to. But I would much rather you fuck me like this. Or let me choke on you for a while then fuck me like this. On my back where I can kiss you and love you back. Ya feel me?”

He looked at you with searching eyes. You realized what you said probably sounded a bit off. Love you back probably wasn't the right thing to say, but you were operating with limited brain function at this point.

“This normally doesn't end well for me.”

“Hmmm. What part, how do you like to uh finish?” You asked slightly confused. Wade only laughed.

“That's not the problem, I almost got off just from you screaming like that. No, I just want to make sure you actually enjoy it. It's hard to enjoy things when you are looking up at someone who looks like they lost a fight with an industrial paper shredder that happened to be on fire.”

You snorted.

“Wade I never knew you before, but I’ve wanted you since I met you. Okay? There's no spooky feelings here.” Your words seemed enough to convince him. He leaned in for a soft kiss, one that made you want to misbehave. You pulled the shirt up, running your hands across the well defined muscles of his torso, then broke the kiss to pull it up over his head. You didn't give him a chance to be chatty, you resumed the heavy kiss, palming his erection. He moaned into your mouth. Feeling accomplished, you pulled the boxers off letting his heavy cock slap up against his stomach. You couldn't help but break the kiss, looking down you watched your hand slide over his impressive, throbbing length. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but before you could push him back onto the bed, he was already pinning you in place beneath him.

You felt him slide himself through your heat. Finally lining himself up with your entrance, his thumb set a steady pace on your clit as he pushed into you slowly. You were grateful he took his time opening you up. You let out a strangled sound when he bottomed out, you felt so full. He set a slow pace giving you lots of time to adjust, this only made you more desperate and needy. When he finally decided you’d had enough, you felt his hand squeeze the back of your neck as he set into a ruthless pace.

“FUCK” He was too much, his heavy body keeping you in place as your hips rose to meet every single thrust. you wanted to feel him as deeply as you possibly could. His hot mouth was biting into the flesh at the bottom of your neck. The heat inside you started to build and you were near your breaking point.

‘Wade” You breathed in a high, desperate tone.

“Cum for me baby” And just like that you felt it take over, your hips snapped up and your feet cramped up. You could feel your walls clench around him tightly, and you choked when he pushed through them even rougher than before. That thumb on your clit never gave up, keeping you trapped riding out the waves of pleasure. You felt it take him over, letting out a deep growl you felt him fill you. He held himself deep inside you, moving both his hands so his forearms were on either side of you trying to keep his weight from crushing you.

His forehead pressed against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually he moved out of you and he flopped onto his back. You got up and quickly went pee and cleaned yourself up. You grabbed another washcloth and went back to clean him up. You realised that getting up might have been a mistake. Wade was on his side with his eyes screwed shut.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked softly and grabbed the sides of his face and kissed his forehead.

“Better now.” He whispered.

“Sorry for getting up, I should have said something. Can I clean you up?” He gave you a strange look, like he was waiting for you to suddenly disappear. He took the washcloth and wiped himself down, you took it back throwing it into the bathroom. You looked down at him hoping that the voices weren't giving him a hard time. You sat next to him holding his hand, giving him some time.

**********************************************************************

“So about those cuddles?” He asked softly, and you wondered how many times people had hurt him or thrown him out.

You got under the light quilt on your bed motioning for him to do the same. He followed you, laying on his back, you tucked yourself into his side, enjoying his big arms wrapping around you. You gave his neck a light kiss.

“I missed you.” you said softly

“You have no idea how bad I missed being around you.”

“I won't leave again, if you wanted to make this either a regular thing… or a proper thing… if you're into that?” You felt a tight ball of nerves in your stomach.

“I’d really like that.” He kissed your forehead. You thought about all the things you would have to do to make this relationship compatible with your new life. But that was a later you problem, right now you were the best kind of exhausted. You both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you again for the request!!!! <3

[arty-chase]

A Failed Betrothal (6)

Here is a new chapter for you guys. I am terrible at writing feelings and this is my best shot.😅 Tell me what you think.

[Masterlist]

(PART 1)(PART 5)

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(Words in bold is French)

“Tch, Drake is going to be busy trying to find Hawkmoth. He can’t go around Paris, being Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. Besides, he can’t be a proper boyfriend even in his most lucid moments. I will be her boyfriend instead.”

Tim was glad he didn’t take a sip of his coffee when Damian volunteered to be Marinette’s boyfriend. But he still choked on air. Jason with his limited knowledge of french was confused. Damian didn’t do what he heard, right?

“No, you can’t. Chloe already told them about Tim. If I come in with a different boyfriend, they would get suspicious. We can work on Hawkmoth while we go on those dates. Besides, I thought you don’t like me. That’s not going to sell the image of a loving couple.” Marinette pointed out. (She also doesn’t want to do this fake-date thing. Not because she likes Damian and she had always been a goner for green eyes and totally would be date him if it weren’t for some stupid curse dictating her feelings for him and fake-dating him might get her catch feelings for him and she would get her heart broken when this is all over and she would stay single forever and be a lonely old lady with hamsters and cats for company.)

“Actually, Mari-bug, I only told the class how romantic your boyfriend is. I never told them what he looked like. Just in case, Timothy couldn’t make it. I have back-up favors to cash in.” Chloe explained.

Marinette didn’t even know why she was surprised at that, this was Chloe after all.

“You have more than one American boy around our age in your debt who you intend to be my boyfriend? Sounds like you, Queenie. So that also means that Damian doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.”

“My offer still stands. I will be your ‘boyfriend’ before I have to go back. I will be more understanding than those other American boys when you have to rush out for an attack. That is to assume that they can come here or agree. In our initial meeting, I didn’t like that weak girl act you put up. Recent events have made me realize that you are a much stronger person. (Careful Damian, that sounds like a compliment.) You are a decent partner to date.(Shit. Shit. Shit. That wasn’t a compliment, right?)”

Damian couldn’t see why Dupain-Cheng would refuse such a good deal. He supposed her feelings might be still hurt from his first impression of her. He would give her an apology when they are alone and away from his brothers who would make a big deal of it.

“Fine. At least, the curse will at least make this fake couple thing more believable.” grumbled Marinette. The light pink blush on her face is not because he said she was someone he would date.

Oh right, the curse. He swore internally, it had possessed him to be Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. He now would have to endure the hand-holding, kissing and staring into each other’s eyes, and try to resist the curse which will be much harder now. Somehow, he didn’t regret it a little bit. It sounds more bearable with him doing those things with her than her with Drake. This was just a mutual agreement to ward off her suitors and prove to her classmates that she was off the market.

Chloe clapped her hands,“If we have everything sorted out, you can start being a good boyfriend by walking Marinette to school today. We want to be on time now.”

The others started packing up their stuff or finished what they were eating. Marinette was dragged out of the bakery by an impatient Damian. Chloe and Alix picked up what Marinette left behind and followed out. The rest soon left right after, leaving the two boys in the bakery.

“Hey, Replacement, tell me if I am wrong but did Demon Spawn willingly ask a girl out?” Jason asked, stealing a croissant from Tim.

“Try making himself the perfect candidate to be her fake boyfriend out of many choices, including me, and get her to agree to it. Now he has to go on a few romantic dates with Marinette in order to ward off this really pushy guy in her class. Demon Spawn also has a crush on her and he’s in denial of it. We are not hallucinating either. I’ve checked.” Tim replied, sipping his coffee.

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“Damian. Let go. Hey, Wayne, are you listening to me? Let me go. This is not how you treat your significant other. And you are not even going in the right direction.” Marinette all but yelled at him.

He released his grip on her. “My apologies for manhandling you but I wanted to tell you this away from everybody else.”

“What?” She asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

I- This is a little difficult to say for me,” Damian started. (Why were his palms sweaty? It’s just an apology. He had done it before although it was mostly because Grayson told him what he did wrong and made him do it.) “But I am sorry for calling you weak, pathetic and every other bad thing I have said about you when you have shown that you are anything but those. I was mad at myself for being caught and took it out on you.”

Her glare softened.

“Apologies accepted. The school is this way.” She said with a smile and went towards the school. Damian walked by her side, his hands in his pockets.

Marinette looked at where his hands were, “If we are going to do this fake dating thing, I suggest we hold hands.”

Damian grabbed her hand and continued walking in silence. Her hands were so small and fitted perfectly in his. Oh God, it’s the curse again. Turning him into a sap. Do not think about her hands. And the fact that she took down a man twice her size with them which was an amazing sight to watch.

“Why are you so stiff? Loosen up a little. You are with the love of your life. Smile a little.”

Damian plastered on a fake smile, “Happy?”

“It looks fake. Being a model he will be able to tell.” Marinette remarked, “Are you sure you want to do this? We can still go get Tim to be my boyfriend.”

“I can do this. Drake wouldn’t be a better choice. It doesn’t help that you are relentlessly nit-picking me. Or are you that bad of a girlfriend?” Damian couldn’t help but sniped back. “Maybe that’s why Chat Noir left you.”

He found himself back against the world and her elbow at his neck. (He would forever deny that he liked it.)

“Look here, Wayne. You know nothing about me and you shouldn’t assume that you do. Chat Noir was revoked of his status as a hero for his behaviour. If you don’t act the part properly, I am going to have my former partner, who has absolutely no sense of boundaries, harassing me in my civilian life and I have already dealt enough of his advances to last a lifetime. I have given you so many chances to get out of this which you refused and yet, you are half-assing it. So are you in this 100 percent or not? Because I am at the end of my patience right now.”

“The boy who is obsessed with you is the former Chat Noir?”

“Yes, I will explain about that later but what’s your answer?”

“I will give it my best shot but I have never pretended to be in love.”

“Were you not taught in the League?”

“There were seduction tactics shown to members when they were old enough and I left them when I was 10 but I am not sure if those skills can be applied here.”(Slamming your opponent against the wall wasn’t one of them but she was doing a great job of it so far. No. No. No. He is not his father. This is different from whatever he has with Kyle.)

She released her hold on him and grabbed his hand, leading him towards her school.

“Well then, here are the basics. Everytime you look at me, just think of your favourite things to make your smile a little more genuine. Maybe call me by a pet name if you want. Keep your touch on me like you can’t keep your hands off of me and act really reluctant when you have to let go. You will only keep them my shoulders, arms, hands and waist or I will break your hand. I will do the same. If you are going to have to kiss me, give me a warning.” He looked into her blue eyes and nodded.

“Alright.”

“Oh. I almost forgot. In case they try to question our relationship. My favourite colour is red. My favourite song is ‘Fearless’ by Jagged Stone.(I love Taylor. Sue me) And we met online a few months ago. You came all the way to Paris to see me a month ago and asked me out. We will talk more that later. Oh, I also love designing and have dreams of being a famous fashion designer.-”

Marinette rambled on which Damian found a little endearing. He looked forward to knowing more about her. He added a few comments here or there about himself (because it was only fair.) and ways to improve their cover story about their relationship.

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“We are nearly at school. Let’s start the act, Romeo.” Marinette whispered at him and looked at him with a bright smile that brought a tiny smile to his face. Okay, maybe he liked Marinette a little bit but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with her.

He moved her hand holding his to the crook of his elbow.

“Is this acceptable, my lady?”

She wrinkled her nose, (Adorable. No. Don’t go there) “This is fine. But can you not call me that? And princess too? I may have erased his memories as Chat Noir but it could be a trigger to bring them back.”

“Understandable. What about Malak?”

She blushed. Marinette had learned Arabic a while back and was very fluent in the language.

“It’s okay.” She said in a soft voice. She put her other hand on his bicep and leaned on his shoulder.

“You don’t look like a touchy-feely person so is this fine?”

“Yes.”

“Cool, let me tell you more about the atrocious lies that had passed her mouth.”

They walked into the school courtyard, arm-in-arm, for the entire school, especially Marinette’s class, to see. The perfect picture of a loving couple. Marinette’s blush from earlier was evident on her face, leaving no room for doubt about her new relationship status. (Many guys, gals and pals were upset over it.) As they both walked up the stairs, whispering and laughing about who knows what (gulliable and idiotic classmates they have to suffer learning with), two pairs of green eyes followed them.

In this case, the saying ‘green-eyed monsters’ was true. One was envious of the boy who held the girl he wanted in his arms and the other was envious of the attention the couple was receiving.

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Damian escorted Marinette to her class. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and said, loud enough for the class to hear, “Bye, Malak. I will pick you up after school for our date.”

“B-bye, Damian.”

He took her hand, gave a kiss to the back of it and departed, leaving a very red-faced Marinette behind. The rest of the class parted the way as Damian walked past.

She rushed into her seat where Chloe sat beside it, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“Sooooo, Mari-bug, how was your date? You two rushed out of there so quickly and left your stuff behind. So eager to spend time with your boyfriend, eh? You enjoyed it very much by the looks of it.”

“Sorry about that, Chloe. Did you bring my bag and the cheese danishes?” Marinette tried to change the topic. And she also wanted to make sure a god of destruction doesn’t go hungry and angsty during school. “Yep, here you go,” Chloe said, handing Marinette her bag and a box of cheese-flavoured snacks for Plagg, “Your mom packed some for you.”

“Marinette. Where have you been the last two days? And you came back with a boy. I am honestly worried about your behaviour.” Lila played the concerned classmate wonderfully.

“Yeah, Marinette. This is a new low, even for you.” Alya added.

Marinette readied herself to tell the cover story Damian and her worked out on the way here.

“Lila, I appreciate your ‘concern’. But the last four days have been a little hard on me so excuse me if I am a little snappy today. You see, Damian disappeared and didn’t return home after school on Friday. So when he didn’t pick up for our weekly video call, I panicked and called his family and they told me what happened. They sent me a plane to get out of Paris so I can’t get akumatized.”

“Was that why you were gone on Saturday?” Chloe asked, playing along although she already knew why Marinette wasn’t in Paris the last four days.

“Yeah. Sorry for not telling you guys. It was sorta last minute. Thankfully, he wasn’t kidnapped actually. His biological mother picked him up but never told his father that she was taking him. I just came back last night. Dami followed me to make sure I am okay.”

“What a bunch of bullcrap.” Alya said, “I don’t believe you.”

Oh. The irony... “Alya, I don’t care if you do. My life is my own business. So keep your nosy nose out of it. Your opinions don’t matter to me anymore, stranger.” Marinette internally was tired of this silly routine and wanted this to end already.

Alya wanted to pick a fight with her over the smallest things she did for the past months. She wondered why her former best friend hated her this much.

“Lila told me that you were skipping school and you paid an actor to be your pretend boyfriend.”

Pretending to not hear what Alya said, Marinette turned towards Chloe, “Hey, you never told me about how you met Tim. I can’t believe that you two are friends.”

“We met at one of those charity galas-”

“Hey, we were talking to you.” Alya cut her off. To which Chloe glared at the ombre-haired girl.

“I thought our conversation was done. What else am I supposed to say?”

Marinette was frustrated and hid that fact well, showing any reaction would give the game away. If she had reacted, it would further fuel the fire of Alya’s self-righteousness, making her believe that Marinette was somehow guilty of what Lila told her about. Lila managed to turn nearly the entire class against her by appealing to their ‘hero’ side and outbursts from Marinette and the others made them more sure of themselves of being in the right. It was so deep-rooted that nothing would sway them to logical reasoning. Maybe except Phase 2. Phase 1 was made a little easier when Talia kidnapped her and made her miss a few days of school.

Phase 2 was to not acknowledge the lies or just appear uninterested. It would illustrate the point that people don’t have to listen to them if they don’t want to. If possible, sow little seeds of doubt to the ones Lila had a looser grip on. The more people they can slowly get on their side, the better.

Alya was confused, usually Marinette would throw a ‘temper tantrum’ about how she didn’t do that and Lila lied.“I-, you should-, You should apologize to Lila.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, “For what this time?”

“For saying that she was lying.”

“Pray tell, when did in any of our conversations so far did I do that? I mean I don’t like the fact that she just accused me with little evidence of paying my someone to be my boyfriend but I am not going to fight with anyone over it. Maybe I did do that, Maybe I didn’t. Maybe there is a good reason I did those things. The thing is Lila should keep to her own business and I will keep to mine. And as should you. I know you are a reporter at heart but you should at the very least respect my privacy.”

Alya stayed silent, fuming. Everyone was looking at them now. She realized that the designer was right and if she pushed further, she would be the bad guy.

“I thought so. Now, go away. I have nothing else to say to you. Let Chloe finish her story of how she met Tim which you so rudely interrupted.”

“Who’s Tim?” Lila asked, wanting to know more about Marinette’s boyfriend to work on an angle to get him away from the ravenette.

“Mari-Bug’s boyfriend’s older brother. Now, shoo peasants, we are talking. Anyways, Mommy took me to when I was younger so I could mingle with all the other rich kids and get connections. Timothy was there and back then, he was still with the Drakes...”

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

Lila and Alya returned to their seats, both were visibly upset although Lila was seething inside. When Marinette was not at school for the last two days, the Italian thought that it was the last she had seen of her. Today, she showed up with a handsome boy on her arm and by the looks of his clothes, rich too. If she manages to get ‘Damian’ to break up with that pest and date her instead, then she would have a rich, handsome boyfriend devoted to her and that brat would be so heart-broken that an akuma so powerful would be made that even Ladybug won’t be able to defeat. A two for one deal. Lila started planning (scheming) to take her boyfriend away.

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(Part 7)

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Edit: I am so sorry. I forget to add the taglist.

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop, @all-mights-asscheeks, @idk-j-go-with-it , @loysydark, @thenillabean, @lolieg, @zalladane, @silvergold-swirl, @henie04, @blueblossombliss, @khneltea, @mochegato, @itsmeevie01, @roguishredaxion, @alyssadeliv, @steph-hearthlight, @adrestar, @eliza-bich, @abrx2002, @hikari55ttva, @doglover82, @daminette5074, @moon5608,@justafanwarrior, @allis-sun, @animegirlweeb, @aespades, @corporeal-terrestrial, @mildlydeadly, @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl,

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Valentines Day for Nerds (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s favourite holiday is often taken up mostly by work, but this year his enjoyment doesn’t seem to be as disruptive in the BAU bullpen. The team soon realise why.

AN: It’s a bit late- who am I kidding? IT’S ALWAYS HALLOWEEN IN OUR HEARTS! This was a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, for the brilliant @agntprentiss <3 

For my smut fic from the swap, check out A Little Indulgence (18+ only!)

Reader uses she/her pronouns!

Word count: 1.7k words

Gif credit to @imagining-in-the-margins​ <3

Your name: submit What is this?

The first breach of boredom was Penelope practically skipping into the bullpen, her arms cradling a bouquet of flowers as if it were an infant. The bold orange roses contrasted with the dyed black petals of its counterparts as they were planted upon Spencer’s desk.

“Delivery for Doctor Reid!” trilled Penelope, clapping her hands now that they were free of said delivery. Dropping his pen onto his unfinished paperwork, Spencer pivoted the base of the bouquet before he found a small black envelope.

It held a little card with two pumpkins, happy faces carved into them both. Inside were the following words:

 Black is for new beginnings,

Orange is for enthusiasm,

Spooky times are afoot tonight,

Watch out for ectoplasm!

I spent ten minutes trying to think of a rhyme for that. Happy Halloween, Cara Mia!

Y/N xxx

Spencer beamed as he placed the bouquet at the edge of his desk, next to the fake severed hand that now held the card in its stiff fingers. He scratched his bristly cheek. Less than a day until he could shave this off. It’d be worth it though.

“Is it from Y/N?”

He looked up to see Penelope had lingered like a lost spirit, waiting to see if her trials of passing on the bouquet had been worthy enough for her to move onto the next world – her Batcave. She was poised with a hopeful expression.

“Yes,” Spencer said, watching Penelope lean up on her tiptoes as she tried to rein in her delight.

She clapped her hands, her purple painted nails clicking as they tapped together, “Are my two favourite ghost hunters up to much this Hallow’s Eve?”

“We’re going to see the Phantasmagoria re-enactment after we go trick-or-treating with Henry tonight.”

It was hard to ignore the absolute glee with which Spencer spoke. Even if one completely ignored the way his voice carried a light excitement, the way his eyes lit up and his broad smile almost fell off his face was enough to connote that he was very excited for tonight. It was also hard to ignore the mild bemusement on the faces of everyone who heard.

Glad to be back and bearing witness to his elated behaviour regardless, Emily cracked a smile, “Maybe she’ll cling to you when she gets scared.”

A heat crawled up Spencer’s neck and he tried to return to work now in hopes that his gift’s display would be cut off. He’d rather sit in the glow of receiving the flowers without mockery.

To the team’s credit, no one ribbed him for it.

The flowers were not the last gift though.

Soon Penelope reappeared, “Your Cupid has returned with another gift for you!”

As he tore at the paper and revealed an Edgar Allen Poe pin – the titular Raven he instantly attached it to his satchel strap – in pride of place, just like the bouquet.

Derek was the one to notice how Spencer’s sandwiches had been cut into little pumpkins. Some digging and Spencer revealed that he had gotten Y/N to order a cutter online. He held his lunch in one hand, his collection of classic Halloween short stories in the other, with a childish glee that no one wanted to squander.

When Spencer climbed the steps to drop off a file to Hotch around mid-afternoon, Rossi walking behind him noted the brand-new socks. A classic odd pairing, and obviously they were Halloween themed. This kid left no opportunity untaken when it came to celebrating Halloween – more than his own birthday.

But Rossi was not closed enough to get a good look at them, and no one else was as close. So, he recruited Emily and Derek to discover what the pattern was. It was Emily and Derek who upped the stakes by wanting to get a glimpse without arousing suspicion. Now that outright asking Spencer was not an option, the game began as they dropped several pens as an excuse to bend over and strain for a flash of those socks.

Derek eventually resorted to a pantomime attempt at tripping in front of Spencer’s desk and gave the jig up straight away by shouting to a stressed Emily (whilst also catching the attention of Hotch through his office’s blinds): “IT’S IT!”

A few language barriers hurdled later, and hindsight brought them both clarity. The red splodge on Spencer’s ankle was officially defined as a balloon.

“So tell us! What’s the other one?” Emily said, her voice strained with how much she was invested in this single sock.

Spencer hiked up his trouser leg to display the skeletal zombie sewn into the sock. “It’s Curtis Danko from When Good Ghouls Go Bad. Y/N had it commissioned for me!”

JJ was watching nearby, unaffected by the tensions of the sock bet. She knew the film because Y/N had wanted to show it to Henry the other week when she babysat him. But upon further inspection, the R.L. Stine film – while intended for kids – might be a little intimidating for Henry to watch without his profiler mother and godfather, police officer father, and favourite auntie there to protect him from the cursed statue.

No one else in the bullpen knew the film.

The team soon discovered that Spencer was not the only one to be on the receiving end of such gifts. Six o’clock rolled around and Y/N entered the bullpen. She was wearing a fuzzy black scarf, some sparkles shining within the wool. At the tail of it, a lucky black cat patch was sewn onto the end. It caught Rossi’s eye and he hid behind a folder as he smiled. The three times that Spencer had forgone a card game with him (in favour of knitting the scarf on the flights back from cases) had been riddled with playful teasing. It was good to see that it was worth it.

Especially when Spencer saw Y/N wearing it and his back snapped straight up. His chair flew backwards, spinning around with the effort that Spencer had launched himself from it, and he and Y/N embraced each other with casual affection.

“How was work today?”

“Not as boring as I thought. But, I have to say: I’m meant to call you Cara Mia.” Spencer’s eyes darted to the card Y/N had sent that morning.

Y/N caught onto his meaning, “Should I stop?”

“Never.”

She rubbed her nose against his and Spencer went pink again, giggling like a teenager. True, he was as smitten with Y/N as Gomez was with Morticia. Then he remembered he was in the workplace as Y/N went to greet the rest of the team, and Spencer’s pink became a scarlet.

“Aww, Pretty Boy,” Derek grinned at him from his desk chair, “You’re so cute!”

“It’s like Sergio!” Emily said, admiring the scarf with her thumb rubbing over the stitches around the cat patch.

“Make sure he’s safe tonight,” Y/N squeezed her hands for a second.

Then JJ appeared from her office, coat and bag over her arm, and she, Y/N, and Spencer wished the bullpen a Happy Halloween before they left.

They had three hours before the Phantasmagoria started. Plenty of time to get ready.

Henry was right behind the front door of his home. The second it opened, he bounced at Spencer’s feet, his tiny hand clutching onto two of his fingers to drag him inside. He was babbling away at such speed that Y/N could barely keep up. She gave Will a wave across the ironing board where he was diligently ironing Will’s cape.

“Well don’t you look handsome!” Y/N beamed at Henry while JJ combed his hair back, slick with gel. It was something he agreed to but only if Spencer was doing the same. Which he was, occupying the downstairs bathroom as he prepared his own costume.

The moment Spencer had finished shaving everything bar the moustache, he was plonked in front of the television. Henry smoothed out his cloak and put in his plastic fangs in to watch the rest of his new favourite Halloween film, The Little Vampire. He mumbled along with Rudolph’s lines and sat enraptured as he pointed out to Spencer the flying scenes. Luckily for him, Will and JJ were getting dressed as Frederick and Freda Sackville-Bagg upstairs to join in the Halloween spirit – last year’s Halloween date night disaster long forgotten.

Henry put in his plastic fangs and hissed at Y/N who emerged in her long sleek black dress. As she stepped across the room as elegantly as Morticia, Spence spied that she was wearing the black spiderweb tights he had bought her today.

“Hello, Gomez,” She smiled radiantly at Spencer, smoothing out his suit jacket as he stood before her. He presented her with a red rose that matched her lipstick to a tee.

As she breathed in the flower’s scent, he kissed her cheek, enjoying her giggle at the bristle of his ‘stache, “You’re stunning.”

“Thank you, and you’re handsome as ever.” She swung their linked hands between them in the opposite way she poised on her tiptoes. “Maybe we should have taken a tango class.”

And she laughed loudly at Spencer’s wincing at such a thought.

“It’s ok, Cara Mia. I’ll settle for a kiss instead.”

Oh, that was something he could do forever. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles then the inside of each wrist.

Unfortunately, Henry interrupted the stream of kisses that were headed in Y/N’s way. “Ready to go!” He skipped his way between the happy couple.

It was hard to be mad at Henry, especially with how adorable he looked beside his parents and with his bright orange pumpkin bag ready to collect candy. He felt safe with his four favourite adults guarding him.

“Tonight,” Y/N whispered into his ear and he could hear the smirk in her words, “After the Phantasmagoria.”

Spencer beamed, his dimples delightfully framing that smile. One day maybe, they would have their own Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert to join them. And maybe then Derek would dress up as Uncle Fester.

[writesowhatnext]

elementary, my dear weasley // fred weasley

Summary: Fred receives an anonymous love letter so he enlists his best friend to help him figure it out

Request: Could you write some fluffy Fred W x Reader? The reader gives Fred an anonymous love letter but since they’re friends, he asks her to help him figure out who it is? You can go anywhere from there! Thank you x

A/N: this is such a super cute prompt so I really hope I can do it justice

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: none actually, I think

As Fred walked towards you with a very serious look on his face, you regretted every decision you’d ever made, simultaneously. Why did you tell your mum that your cat had broken the vase? Why did you snog that boy in first year? Why did you dye Ron’s hair pink and let the twins take the fall? Why did you start your last Charms essay the day it was due? Why did you write Fred that stupid letter? Your mind was in overdrive trying to devise a getaway plan, if you avoided Fred now then he’d definitely come and find you at some point but then, at least you could be more emotionally prepared for rejection. How had he even found out it was you? You’d gone to extreme lengths to throw him off the scent.

In your panic, you’d forgotten to actually try to execute any form of escape plan and so there you sat, a sitting duck, with Fred Weasley charging towards you. You winced as he slammed the familiar paper down in front of you, familiar handwritten peeking out from between his spread fingers. You looked up from his hand to his face very, very reluctantly. And for some reason, he was smiling.

“You will never guess what I’ve just found.”

You frowned, watching him with a fairly healthy level of confusion as he dragged a chair to sit at your table. He ignored the annoyed looks from the Gryffindors at the table he’d stolen from and sat down, pushing your letter towards you.

“Read that.”

Your frown deepened as you slowly pulled the letter toward you. What sort of mind game was he playing?

Your heart beat loudly in your ears with every word you read: from the ‘Dear Fred,’ to the ‘With love.’, you’d reread and checked the letter more times then you could count and you could practically recite it by heart at this point. When you left it for him, it had been a good idea, now it just filled you with regret and a horrible sick feeling in your stomach. You raised your head to look at him and hummed, carefully watching his reaction.

“Hmmm?” he asked incredulously, snatching the letter back and staring at it. “I know it’s not surprising because I mean, come on, but surely someone confessing their love to me via the timeless art of letter-writing deserves more than a ‘hmmm’, don’t you think?”

You stared at him for a moment. All the while, he just looked at you expectantly. And then it clicked; Fred had no idea you sent that letter. Your mouth fell open slightly as you tried to figure out how you would behave in this situation – if it was someone else that’d been hopelessly in love with Fred.

“Let me read it again.” You insisted, pulling it from his hands. You didn’t read it; you just stared down at parchment, trying to figure out what you were going to do about it. He didn’t know it was you; that was perfectly clear. It would be fine. He never needed to know it was you, not really.

“Who do you think wrote it?”

Happy that you were finally asking the right questions, Fred smiled and rested his elbows on the table.

“That’s what I need your help to find out.”

“You want to find out who sent it?” you asked loudly. Perhaps a little too loudly, you discovered; a couple of people in the common room looked up at you.

“Do I-“ Fred shook his head. “Blimey, Y/N, what has got into you today? Of course, I want to find out who sent it.”

“Why?”

Fred could not fathom your behaviour right now – his fish impression proved that. Once he’d stopped opening and closing his mouth, he placed a hand on the paper, pointing at it with his finger.

“Whoever wrote this says that I am the sunshine of their world, Y/N.” he shot you a deadpan look. “The sunshine of their world.”

You made a face, your composure slipping, a horrible cringing sensation coming over you. “And?”

“And…” he stressed, rolling his eyes. “I want to find out who thinks so highly of yours truly.”

“To do what?”

“Bloody hell, Y/N, what’s with all the questions?” Fred huffed, making a face. “I just want to figure out who sent it – I have to talk to them.”

You wanted to know what he meant by that but you couldn’t afford to keep asking questions without raising some sort of suspicion.

“So how are you going to figure out who?”

“Well,” he said, frowning. “That’s why I’m here. George took a look and said that if anyone could help me, it was you. So, dear, dear Y/N, any ideas?”

You paused for a moment, confused. Why would George think you knew who wrote it? Sure, you knew a fair few people but you were hardly Sherlock sodding Holmes. It was probably a coincidence, you thought. Though, the strange nervous feeling in your stomach lingered.

“Well,” you leant your chin on your elbow. “Tell me how you found it.”

The smile that lit up his face at the promise of your help was almost enough to quash your guilt at the fact that this definitely, probably, certainly qualified as lying to him.

You barely listened as he talked you through his morning routine. He’d woken up, late as usual, and thrown on his robes because he thought it was Monday – it was not. When he was rifling through them to find some Helium Toffees that he swore – though you were thoroughly unconvinced - he didn’t plan to use on you, he found a folded-up section of parchment. And, the first thing he did was smell it.

“You what?” you asked, definitely now listening. “What did you do that for?”

“To see where it came from.” He replied as if it were obvious.

You frowned at him, lost for words. Not only had you not disguised any sort of smell when you’d written it, you were also kind of worried about Fred’s mental state that that was his first thought.

“So, what did it smell like then?”

“Nothing, really.”

You stared at him for a moment. You were exasperated, for sure, but you couldn’t help the way your stomach flopped, replacing it with fondness.

“Well given that very promising lead didn’t pan out-“

“Oi!” Fred poked you in this side, earning a hideously loud spout of laughter from you. You grumbled as he smiled proudly.

“What’s next?”

“Well,” he began, leaning forward as if revealing the biggest conspiracy to sweep the wizarding world since, well, Harry Potter. “I figure whoever it is has to be close to me, right? To get it in my robes and all.”

You tried to fault his logic, but you’d forgotten, with how horrible of a student he could be, that Fred was actually a genius when he wanted to be. You just nodded.

“I don’t know where to go from there though: I don’t recognise the handwriting; I don’t know when they put it in there; I can’t write one back-“

“You’d write back?” You tried to hide how breathless the thought made you.

“It’s like you know nothing about letter-writing etiquette.”

If only he knew.

Forgetting that you were trying not to be helpful, lest he discovered that you were his secret admirer, you were accidentally helpful.

“Didn’t you go through your pockets before you changed last night to find that chocolate frog Ron stole?”

“So, Ron stole that frog.” he turned to you, smirking. You remembered in that second that you’d promised Ron that you’d keep that information to yourself.

“What? Who told you that?”

He narrowed his eyes as you painted the most innocent expression you could on your face.

“But yeah, you’re right. So what?”

“So what?” This boy. “So, they must’ve put it in your robes after that.”

His face lit up.

“Okay so, who did you see after that?”

Finding his concentrated frown much cuter than you should’ve, you were almost disappointed when he started talking.

“George, Ron, You-“ you were both sad and happy that he didn’t pause. “Hermione?”

You shook your head, making a face. He nodded in agreement.

“Harry, Lee, Angelina. Do you think it was Angelina?”

You stomach sank at his excitement. “Could be.”

He smiled, leaning back on his chair, pleased with himself.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

He seemed surprised at your question as if he’d forgotten what the point of your detective work was.

“It’s still lunchtime, right?”

You looked at the clock on the wall. “Just about.”

“Come on then, my little detective.”

As you followed him to the Great Hall, you tried to ignore the way your heart jumped at the nickname.

When you reached the Hall, Angelina was sat down, surrounded by her friends. George was also there, probably late from his detention with Snape.

“Alright, George?” Fred said, nudging his shoulder against his brother’s. George looked at you, and then at Fred. Something was strange about his stare.

“Why do you look so happy?” George asked, crossing his arms.

“Y/N and I have cracked the case!”

“Oh, really?” When George looked at you almost pointedly, a lump formed in your throat. He knew.

“And I’m going to go seal the deal – wish me luck, Georgie.”

As Fred walked rather confidently over to Angelina, you and George stood shoulder to shoulder. In silence. It was eating you alive. Your mind swam with things to say: explanations, excuses, ways to make a clean exit.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.” He said, his tone light and a smile on his lips as he watched his brother strike up a conversation. Out of all the things he could’ve said, you hadn’t expected that. You looked up at him and he nodded over to Angelina’s confused face. “Letting him trot over there thinking Angelina wrote that letter? Very wicked.”

You paused before deciding you had nothing left to lose.

“What was I supposed to do? Tell him?”

“Yes.” George said as if it was obvious – his expression a carbon copy of Fred’s.

“He would hate me, George.”

He laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him. You wondered what about your misfortune he found so funny. “My sweet, sweet Y/N,” you both watched as Angelina’s friends burst into laughter. You felt even more guilty at Fred’s discouraged expression. “Fred could never hate you.”

As Fred returned to you, tail between his legs and ego wounded slightly, he didn’t even notice George’s arm around you. He just frowned, nodding.

“At least that narrows down our suspect pool.” Then he turned to George. “Up for helping us figure out the mystery?”

George let go of your shoulder, making apologetic gestures as he backed away.

“Sorry mate, still got detention.”

Fred made a face before turning to you. George winked as he left the Hall in the opposite direction of the dungeon.

“So, who’s left?”

You were worried about how short the list of possible authors was getting and George’s words were echoing in your head.

“Fred,” you started, tilting your head to the side. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?” he asked, frowning and crossing his arms.

“Well, I-“

You cursed yourself.

“So, I-“

“What I’m trying to say is that I…”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

“Basically this is really hard to say and I really don’t know what to do if you hate-”

“You wrote the letter?”

Your head shot up to see Fred, smirking with an eyebrow raised.

“I can’t believe you’d send me off to go ask Angelina whether she wrote it. Blimey, love, you’re more ruthless than I thought; should be a bloody Slytherin. It’s a good job I figured it out before I plundered over there like a right git.”

You blinked. What was happening? Why was Fred smiling? How did he know?

“You knew all along?”

He just smiled.

“Why- Why did-“ you stopped, mouth open. “Why did you make me help you?”

“Bit of fun,” he shrugged, pressing his lips together. “Wanted you to tell me.”

You placed your hand to your forehead, groaning. You must look like a right idiot.

“How did you know?”

“Smelt like you, didn’t it.”

You frowned, moving your head.

“You pay attention to what I smell like?”

“I pay attention to everything about you.”

He placed his hands on your hips. You were sure you’d short-circuited.

“The way you smell… the face you make when you lie… how suspicious you look when you’re messing with my robes.”

It was impossible, you thought, to be more embarrassed than you were in that exact moment.

“You saw me put it in there.”

“I saw you put it in there.” He said, pulling you into him. “Was quite pleased when I read it, actually, I’ve fancied you for years.”

“You’re lying.”

You placed your hands very tentatively on his chest, his soft jumper underneath your palms.

“There’s only one liar here.”

You made a face. He looked over your head, pursing his lips before looking down again.

“The sunshine of your world, ay?”

“Shut up.” You groaned, cringing again. He laughed, his whole body shaking. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” he moved his hand to the small of your back. “I was hoping it meant I could kiss you.”

You nodded, again at a loss for words.

“That alright with you?”

You just nodded.

[sloppykyuu]

BRAIN DO BIG BRRR

After finally moving into a small cute house with a garden Isseis kitten gf demanded a kitten room for herself and herself only and ofc he agreed and he's never allowed inside until one day he hears her meow in pain and he rushes in and sees that a few big books fell on her tail so he carries her out to bed and makes sure she's ok and after she's passed out and sleeping he sneaks back into her room cos he's just so curious and all he finds is a bunch of pictures of them together at the wall with stickers and cute drawings and tons of books about cats, human behaviour, fish and sex so he sinks down into all the cute soft and fun shaped pillows and starts looking through the books cos she made small notes everywhere and after that he checks the small boxes filled with cat toys, sex toys, catnip and pictures of Issei he doesn't know about she took them when he wasn't looking or sleeping and such and out of the corner of his eyes he sees one of his shirts and after digging through all the pillows he finds tons of his clothes and Issei sits there and is just so in love with her (◍•ᴗ•)

He knows you don’t want him there but he’ll just make cleaning up the books scattered on the floor his excuse in case you wake up. But the box in the corner of the room is calling his name, a cute bow placed on top of the sparkly pink box has him laying back into the mountain of pillows, box placed gently in his lap as he gets comfortable.

Inside lays your favorite vibrator, dildo, all of the best toys you like the most, a few little stuffed mice toys and an array of pictures ranging from the two of you in kyoto, his cooking for you and his sleeping figured on the couch. It would have been creepy if weren’t you, but you’re his favorite person, well kitten. He loves being the center of your world.