#why does cherry blossom sound like that. girl

[sharky-the-idiot]

Say hi to the team that I almost beat error busters with. Idk how the fuck strawberry cookie got so far but here we are

[theshinazugawaslut]

Sanemi with a demon best friend (future wife) that likes to bite him out of cuteness aggression (its not like she bites him until he bleeds just pure ngom)

a/n: there will absolutely be a FULL story of demon!reader x slayer!sanemi but this is just a little drabble so that I can get into the feels for it. Demon reader is described to have red eyes.

The day his world went colorless was the day his mother's blood splattered across his face.

The only color he could clearly remember was red.

Scarlet. Crimson. Rose. Carmine. Amaranth.

Deep, vicious, bloody red.

It was also the color of your eyes, the very first thing he noticed about you: red, red, red, redredredred eyes.

Shimmering, ruby-red like a swirling vortex of hellflame.

Warm. Human.

He wouldn’t have been able to tell you were a demon if you hadn’t opened your eyes.

He had been walking through the meadows, right after a particularly bloody mission; rivulets of cherry-colored demon blood stained his frosty hair.

It had been snowing that day, he remembered it vividly.

It was a wonderfully cold night, so cold that there were no clouds in the sky, just endless stars so far away that he wanted to run until he could reach them and stretch his fingers out far enough to feel them burn his skin, tendons, muscles, blood, bones, soul—

The grass beneath his zori crunched, the sound of ice crackling and sparkling clear amongst the quiet sounds of winter. There were few flowers in the meadows, plum blossoms from trees frozen over and falling into his hair.

His lilac eyes had followed the path of a particularly dull blossom, and he watched it land on… you.

He remembered immediately running over; a girl curled up on the snow, he thought you were dead, but he froze when he saw your face.

You were gorgeous. All delicate and soft; long lashes rested on plump cheeks, hair messy and filled with snow. Your feet were bare, and when two of his thick, rough fingers pressed gently against your throat to feel the hollow, distant beat of your heart, your eyes fluttered open.

He saw red.

So beautiful it made his heart swirl, and then it made him stop dead in his tracks.

Demon.

You were a demon, and all he felt was a strange warmth.

He couldn't sense anything off you. No bloodlust. No searing hatred. No sinister intent.

You just stared at him as you sat up, doe-eyed, and your eyes flitted about his large, looming form.

The thick, meaty silhouette of his neck, then the long, calloused fingers gripping his sword, the strength of his scarred abdomen, and the beefy arms straining through the fabric of his haori. Following up to his ivory, blood-soaked hair and bloodshot, lavender eyes.

And all you did was curl up on yourself, clawed fingers hugging the skin of your own arms tightly as you braced yourself for his sword.

But it never came.

When you'd opened your eyes, he was walking away.

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Sanemi hadn't known why he couldn't do it.

Maybe because he couldn't imagine such a gentle face tearing into human flesh.

Maybe because your eyes were so red and warm and he felt like he was drowning.

Maybe because you looked like how he imagined home would.

He'd promised himself at seventeen, when Masachika died, that he'd tear his broken teeth into the neck of every demon even if his head was ripped off his shoulders. Till his dying breath.

And he couldn't.

All because you looked an awful lot like the girl he adored when he was too little to know what love really was, the girl who put poppies as red as her eyes in his hair.

"Tch, right after that fuckin' Kamado incident this morning, too," he sneers to himself.

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Then, Sanemi found himself in a... strange situation.

Every mission he was sent on, he never completed.

Because you'd butcher every demon for him instead.

He'd be speeding ahead to slice a demon's neck, katana gripped tight and firm in his hands but you've already used your claws to rip the blonde-headed demon apart.

He's tried everything to throw you off his trail.

It never works.

You're protecting him, he realises after three weeks, or maybe repaying him for not killing you.

"Okay, that's fuckin' enough," he snarls one night; his blade hasn't touched demon skin in weeks and he storms over to the tree which you're hiding behind, dragging you out. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you."

You just stare up at him innocently.

"It ain't funny, 'kay? Stop- stop followin' me around, or- or at least stop tryna fuckin' help me," he snaps. "Or I'll really wrangle you to death."

More staring with your lovely red eyes as he holds you by the hair.

"Hello? I know you're fuckin' smart, you follow me even if I wipe my scent clean from everywhere, even if I travel during the stupid dumb fucking day," he huffs, glowering expectantly, removing his hand to point a finger at you.

You stare.

Then you bite his finger.

[xxoxobree]

Japanese Cherry Blossom

Miles G. x Black!Fem!Reader.

WARNINGS: Cuss Words 🙃 Aged Up, dassit.

A/n: Just a lil blurb of the Trap Celeb sound bite 💀 enjoy 🫶🏽

Your phone blared a notification at the top of your screen. It was your boyfriend Miles calling on FaceTime. A smile graced your face before you answered the phone.

“Hey baby,” you answered.

“Hey mama, what you doing?” he said, his words dripping with charm that made you swoon and blush.

“I’m home, bored actually.”

“Can’t have my baby bored, get dressed, you riding with me.”

“Okay, bye.” You said, blowing him a kiss.

Excitement rushed through you as you quickly pulled out a dress from your closet and paired it with a jean jacket and some sneakers. You wanted to look cute, but also be comfortable for wherever Miles was taking you.

You sat in front of your vanity, quickly pulling your hair into a low bun and laying your edges. Finishing up, you added some mascara and lip gloss, giving yourself a final check in the mirror.

You got done just in time as Miles texted your phone saying he’s outside. With a flutter of anticipation, you grabbed your purse and walked out the door to his car.

As you approached, you couldn't help but notice the grin on Miles' face. You opened the car and sat down, giving him a quick kiss before attempting to lean back, only to find yourself falling much farther than you expected.

“Damn Miles…who the fuck did you have in here? Why the seat? Why is the seat back like that?” You asked, adjusting the seat to your liking.

"You tripping mama, buckle up," he said before driving off.

You relaxed as he drove, scrolling on your phone. That was until your nose picked up a scent, a familiar one but not from you.

"Miles... Why does it smell like Japanese cherry blossom in here?"

"Huh?" he replied.

"Huh? Who the fuck did you have in here?" you asked, raising your voice at your boyfriend slightly.

The thoughts of Miles having another female in his car swirled in your mind, and you could feel yourself getting heated.

"You had another bitch in your car? Is that what we doing, Miles?" you confronted your boyfriend.

"Babe, relax please. It's probably my mom, I gave her a ride to the hospital," he said, trying to calm you down resting his hand on your thigh.

"Yeah? Well, call her right now."

"Are you serious, Y/n?"

"Miles, you better call her."

As the phone rang, your heart raced. A part of you hoped it was his mother and he was telling you the truth, but another part of you feared the worst.

Miles sighed, rolling his eyes calling his mom and putting it on speaker. The familiar voice of Rio rang through the phone, "Hey Miles, qué te pasa?"

"Ma, tell Y/n that it's your perfume that she's smelling, please," Miles pleaded, frustration lacing his tone.

"Mrs. Morales, you be wearing Japanese cherry blossom," You chimed in, trying to diffuse the situation playfully.

"Hey sweetie, how are you?" Rio said laughing slightly.

"I'm okay, Mrs. Morales.”

"Don't kill my son, Y/n. He gave me a ride, so it's me you're smelling," Rio defended Miles.

"Okay, bye Mrs. Morales, muah," You said, blowing a playful kiss into the phone.

"Bye, Ma," Miles said, hanging up the phone with a satisfied smile. "See... why would I cheat? My girl is gorgeous."

"Whatever, Miles," you replied, you peppered the side of Miles’ face with kisses, leaving behind a trace of your lipgloss.

[juyeonszn]

WHAT IS LOVE? — TWENTY NINE

PAIRING ₊˚⊹ lee juyeon x f!reader

SUMMARY ₊˚⊹ all is well in the business of matchmaking. except it’s actually not, because lee juyeon, the school’s star baseball player, has just come to you for help in obtaining the girl of his dreams. oh yeah! and he happens to be the guy you’ve had a crush on since your first year of university.

MORE ₊˚⊹ oh my god there’s only 6 chapters left….

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TWENTY NINE — A Space Just For You (2.05k)

Minho picks you up from your apartment at around 1:45 the next day, but instead of waiting by his car like Juyeon did, he knocks on your door. He stands there dressed in a pair of dark grey cargo pants and a plain white t-shirt when you open it for him. He’s wearing the simplest of outfits, but manages to make it look good like always.

You decided to wear a white camisole under a light blue cardigan and a denim skirt. He smiles at you the moment you become visible to him and it’s like all the heaviness in your heart has dissipated into thin air. It’s a smile you don’t get to see often, mostly because it’s reserved for you and he doesn’t like to show it to other people.

He reaches out and takes your hand gently into his, calling out a goodbye to Yuqi, who was watching Teen Titans Go! in the living room, as the two of you leave. You follow him like a lost puppy as he begins to walk down the sidewalk towards the university district, not that far from your apartment.

“We’re not taking your car?”

“Nah, the place is nearby anyway, I don’t see the point. It’d take longer just getting in and out of the car.” He shrugs, casting a sideways glance at you, who's already looking at him.

You just hum in response and continue to trail alongside him. It’s nice out today, it isn’t as hot as it had been and the breeze blows through the holes of your cardigan. Maybe this walk was exactly what you needed after the week you had. You could just stroll in comfortable silence since you knew Minho wouldn’t badger you to talk if you didn’t want to.

A few minutes later, you’re standing in front of the cafe Juyeon brought you to for breakfast. You want to spin on your heels and head for the other direction, but Minho reaches down to grab your hand again and squeezes it. You glance at him again and he gives you that same smile. It brings your heart rate back to normal, allowing you to go inside without complications.

You pick a booth closer to the back, sitting on the side that faces away from the entrance. Minho sits across from you and sighs as he looks through the menu. You watch as his eyebrows quirk together in concentration.

“I’ve never had the lunch from here, I don’t know what to get.” You scrunch your nose once you’ve started to browse your options.

“I didn’t know you’ve been here before,” he says, squinting his eyes as he reads one of the descriptions. “Was it for breakfast? They have really good French toast.”

“That’s what I had, actually,” you snort. “Yeah, I came last week, with— uh— with Juyeon.”

If he wants to say something about that, he chooses not to. He clears his throat, folding his hands over the menu. “I think I’m gonna have the chicken sandwich. It sounds good.”

You quickly look for said sandwich, skimming through its explanation. “Ooh, it does. I’ll get that, too.”

Minho smiles at you fondly. It’s something he’s always done when you’re not paying attention. He liked to think that perhaps you were the reason why the sun shined so brightly in the summer, because it was jealous of how exuberant you were. You were the reason why cherry blossom petals littered the streets in the spring, because they were jealous of your beauty. The wilted leaves in the fall and the glimmering snow in the winter sprinkled to the ground just so they could be touched by you.

From the day he met you, he’d been in love with you. No matter how many times you’ve shown that you’d never be more than just friends, he couldn’t help but stare at you with softness in his eyes. You were the stars and the sky itself to him.

He had never been good at expressing his feelings, so maybe it was his own fault for getting stuck in the friendzone. But even so, he knew it was only so long before you found out how he felt anyways. You deserved to know, despite whether or not he knew that he didn’t stand a chance in the world against Lee Juyeon.

As if the universe had been waiting for the golden opportunity to collide timelines, Lee Juyeon himself and Chou Tzuyu stride into the cafe. They sit at a table by the entrance, Juyeon facing directly towards you and Minho.

He doesn’t realize that it’s the two of you at first, too consumed by his nerves. Anyone would assume it was because he was here with Tzuyu, the girl he’d supposedly been into since first year of university. But that wasn’t the cause at all. No, in fact he was nervous for an entirely different reason.

He was still stuck on the fact that his chest felt tight upon the thought of losing you in any way. Your congratulatory remarks about him asking out Tzuyu seemed empty, though you tried to make them genuine. He could tell your heart wasn’t in it. He doesn’t know how, he just could.

And then there was that godforsaken fake date. Everything about it felt so real to him. It felt right. The stifled laughs as you wobbled onto the rink like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time. The way you held onto him like your life depended on it. That all too familiar glint in your eyes when he caught you after you’d almost fallen.

Even choosing those stupid flowers, the ones that reminded him so much of you. He wondered if you kept them. If you put them in a vase with water so they’d stay as fresh as possible. If they became your new favorite flower like you said they would.

He was driving himself insane with all of these thoughts, every single one about you. Sure he stressed a bit over the Tzuyu situation, but never this much. He never lost sleep over her or the possibility of her rejection. But here he was, sitting in front of the so-called “girl of his dreams”, dark circles under his eyes and an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach because of you, his matchmaker.

Back at your table, your food had just been served. You and Minho raise your sandwiches from your plates, tapping them against each other as if they were flutes of champagne. You giggle as you bring it to your mouth, eyes fluttering shut to savor the taste. His hums of approval echo the exact rating you were thinking in your head.

“Woah, this is actually really good,” you speak through a full mouth, reaching over to steal one of his fries. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“I’m glad you like it enough to resort to theft.” Minho playfully deadpans at you, copying your action and snatching one of yours. You laugh out loud at that, such a melodic and contagious sound that he can’t help but join you. His eyes crinkle at the sides and his heart swells in its confines behind his rib cage.

Your laugh rings in Juyeon’s ears and he perks up, scanning the cafe for the source. He’d only ever heard it once, when the two of you had breakfast in this exact spot. He made a joke about something baseball related and you bursted into an uncontrollable laughter. The joke wasn’t really that funny, but he remembered feeling a tiny flutter where his heart beat, because you understood it. It attached itself to a part of his brain so he could cherish it for as long as he wished to.

However embarrassing, he was thankful for that memory coming in handy now. He spots you and Minho quickly, though your back is to him. Your elbows are resting on the table as you eat your food, something that exhibited just how comfortable you were with your friend. Juyeon recognizes the loving gaze Minho directs to your figure. Had he misinterpreted that look in your eyes at the roller rink?

He has to hold back a gasp when the other male leans into you across the table. His view is slightly obstructed by Tzuyu in front of him, but he can use his context clues to put together what he just witnessed. It’s like the world around him had stopped spinning on its axis and everything had become meaningless. Maybe everyone should’ve listened to Chicken Little when he warned that the sky was falling.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the shattering of his own heart, as if the sky had truly fallen.

“I’m glad you like it enough to resort to theft.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m actually wanted for grand larceny,” you wave a french fry in front of his face, popping it into your mouth. “I’ll keep doing it if you don’t start eating, Lee Minho.”

He raises his hands in surrender, before taking a sip of his cola. You take a big bite of your sandwich and thank the heavens that you agreed to be here. This was ten times better than wallowing in self pity in your bedroom. You were lucky you had someone like Minho in your life to distract you from the way it felt like everything around you was being lit on fire and burning to the ground.

Without a word, he leans across the table with a napkin in his hand, dabbing at the corner of your lips. “You had some sauce right there.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, snickering at his comment. “Okay, casanova, you could’ve just told me.”

He rolls his eyes, nudging your foot with his. “Next time, I just won’t say anything and let you walk around like a fool with chicken sandwich sauce on your face.”

You shake your head and kick him back. His lips part and unpart like he wants to say something else, but doesn’t know how to word it. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he leans back into the booth with a sigh.

“Are you okay?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I just—” He pauses. “There’s something I have to tell you. Not because I want you to feel sorry for me or anything, but because I want you to know.”

“That’s ominous…” You swallow thickly.

“So, you know how I’ve always been the one in our friend group that never really approved of any of the guys you showed interest in,” he starts, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs “Well, there’s a reason for that.”

When you nod for him to continue, he does. “For as long as I’ve known you, I’ve been in love with you, Y/N. I couldn’t tell you if there was a definitive moment in these past few years, because as far as I can remember, you’ve been the only girl I’ve felt this way about. And I’m not telling you because I expect something in return, I just thought it was right that you finally knew. I understand that you’re emotionally unavailable and I could never expect for you to have the same feelings after all you’ve been through.”

So many things fall into place at once all because of a single confession. Why Minho has always been at your beck and call without complaining or hesitating. Why he’s the first to tell it like it is, even if the truth was a bit too harsh. Why he constantly reminds you of your worth and why you shouldn’t put up with anything less than you deserve. Why he’s always the one picking up the pieces after you’ve gotten your heart stomped on.

You can’t comprehend why he’s let you put him through so much torture as long as he has, but you’re grateful for it all the same. Your eyes gloss over and before you know it, tears are spilling freely just like they did almost a week ago.

“I’m so sorry, Min,” you blubber. “I’m sorry that you fell for someone like me.”

He smiles at you sadly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I’m not. I couldn’t have asked for someone better.”

More than one heart was broken that day.

PREV ₊˚⊹ TWENTY EIGHT — clown to clown communication

NEXT ₊˚⊹ THIRTY — THE JUYEON THERAPY FUND

MASTERLIST

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TAGLIST ₊˚⊹ @matchaoreocrepes @maessseongs @tannieflix @winterchimez @kyusqult @itsbeeble @ericlvr @planethyuka

[yumedoca]

I've been obsessed with Urusei Yatsura since before I even realized I could read. Before I even knew the difference between myself and others, before my sense of self had taken shape, even before I recognized the structure of the real world surrounding me, I started living in the world of Urusei Yatsura. That's why even now, high school boys fly in formation above my head, shouting "Blue Impulse!"  Explosions always sound like "chudon"! And when something explodes with a loud sound, and someone is blown away, they go flying with their hands having only the index and middle fingers extended. When women hit it off, they punch each other and say, "You're a good girl!" The bathtub makes loud noises, people eat baseballs, Mr. Vase eats the flowers, and the octopi attack. If I were there, cherry blossom viewing would be held, the chest of my armor would say "maiden", the back of my school uniform would say "man", my chain would be my house key, and my eyes would go crazy during Setsubun. I love the sea! If there's a cat on the stairs, or if there's a cute girl, I'll show off my extraordinary physical abilities, pick her up quickly, seduce her, and never give up, no matter how hard she hits me or what she does to me. No matter how many times I naughtily approach her, I can never be honest with that one girl in this vast universe, and I can never say that I love her, but I will definitely be with her for the rest of my life. If so, that's my darling. I just can't make Oyuki-chan angry. That's the world I live in. That's me. ...In other words, for me, there was no way, not even slightly, not even for a moment, that Urusei was "something foreign beyond my reckoning."

-Yuyuko Takemiya (creator of 'Toradora!', 'Golden Time')

[back2bluesidex]

Broken heart over whiskey glass - KSJ

Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here. I am still taking requests, by the way.

Pairing: Seokjin X Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au

Wordcount: 900

Summary: Your heart breaks again, this time over whiskey glass.

Warnings: unrequited feelings, Seokjin is already engaged, mentions of drinking, hints of family drama and abusive parents.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: Idk how this turned out @phenomenalgirl9. so please forgive me if it's not what you had in mind. Thanks to you for sending in the request. Love ya!!

Kim Seokjin is a lot of things. 

He is twinkling eyes, cherry smiles, summer warmth, blossom pink and a comforting scent. 

He is also dad jokes, broad shoulders, obnoxious-ear-shuttering laugh, long legs and annoyingly himself. 

But most importantly….

He is the man you are in love with. Also, the man who loves someone that isn’t you, will never be you. 

The realization, the acceptance, the constant reminder.. Everything is bitter. Far more bitter than the whiskey on the tip of your tongue. This brown liquid does nothing to numb your pain but you don’t complain, not when it has been your sole companion for most of the night of your company party. 

Even though your eyes are trained on your glass, you don’t miss the long steps that Seokjin takes to reach where you are sitting currently. 

Why does he always find you? Why does he go an extra mile to be nice to you? Why does he do all those things and make your heart flutter and make you fall more and more only to leave you stranded with your wants and desires because he is meant for someone else? 

You don’t have any answers. 

“She has been following me for the better part of the night!” Seokjin whisper-yells in your ear as he lowers himself down to sit beside you on a bar stool. You divert your eyes from the glass and look at him.. only to find his brown orbs boring into yours. But not the way you’d like. Not the way you want. 

He moves his eyeballs in a manner of gesturing the ‘she’ he just mentioned. 

It’s a new recruit. 

Her name must be Dan-ri or Dan-mi, you can’t quite recall. But what you can recall is that she has her eyes set on Seokjin from her very first day. 

You suppose, she doesn't know yet that Seokjin is taken. Wait till he drops the bomb and breaks another heart alongside yours. 

Your ears perk at the sound of her red heels clicking on the marble floor, a perfect set of white teeth flashing at the man for the umpteenth time in the evening.

Annoying. You take a sip from your glass.

"Mr. Kim, I thought you're gonna come back with your drink and we would have a dance!" Dan-ri or Dan-mi whines at her high pitched voice. 

You roll your eyes staring at another direction. 

"Ah- I would love to but I haven't gotten to spend time with my favourite colleague yet." Seokjin says, pointing at you. 

You smile at the girl, a fake one obviously.

"Oh?" Her eyes widen when Seokjin winds a hand around your shoulder, pulling you a little closer to his body. 

You want to run away far and far from this man. You want to put an end to this suffering but you can't help relaxing at his warmth. You melt in his embrace, putting your heart at ease, telling yourself 'just this once. I will distance myself afterwards.' again and again like chanting a mantra. 

"Am I interrupting something?" The girl is more determined than you expected her to be. She doesn't leave, rather settles herself down on the barstool right next to Seokjin's. 

Seokjin chuckles at her question, "It's not what you think, Dan-mi. Y/N is my favorite colleague cum one of my most favorite human beings. And I am engaged." 

The words pierce through your ears, hit your heart and break it into a thousand pieces all over again. Tears start prickling your eyes, so you shut them as tightly as possible. 

And suddenly you're in a flashback of your life.

After suffering from verbally and borderline physically abusive parents, a broken home, multiple failed relationships, failed attempts of being in love and being loved… you finally found yourself falling for a man who was already betrothed to someone else, who can't be yours no matter how many lifetimes you wait. 

Seokjin's embrace now feels too constricted, too hot to be comfortable anymore. So you break free. 

Jerking out of Seokjin's arms, you sit straight. But your actions (or disappointments) seemingly have no impact on him. 

He continues, "my fiancé and I have been in a relationship for 10 years now. Highschool sweethearts you know?" A sweet smile takes over his face, probably upon painting an image of his lover in imagination, "we're soon to be married." 

As soon as he finishes off, you stand up from your place, take your purse and utter a small bye to the man. 

This is too much and you can’t suffer any longer. Having your heart broken everyday with the reminder is one thing but him, sitting right beside you, gushing about his fiancé, while knowing nothing about your feelings towards him, hurts ten thousand times more. 

"Y/N! Wait! Let's go together. I'll drop you." You find Seokjin shouting as the distance between you two increases bit by bit. 

You turn back for one last time, facing him, you part your lips and say, "not this time, Jin. It's better if I move on." 

You know he hasn't heard you, the music is on full blast and there's at least 5 hands of distance between you two.

But the words are for you to hear… more than anyone else.  

So, you take your steps forward and leave him behind for his good and mostly for yours.

[prettymeoww]

In her leisurely stride, she could hear the quiet tapping of heels, the clinking of heels echoing around the neighborhood. And there was no other sound that reminded of the existence of any living thing. Even the sound of the wind and the side rustling of the trees sounded artificial and strained. It was as if it had been added for the atmosphere of life, forgetting what life really was.

The girls walked in silence, looking around at the spring scenery. The petals of cherry blossoms were spreading in all directions, creating a gentle warm snowstorm. The peak of blooming would have warmed the heart and created memories of happy youth if it didn't look so strange. But no one paid attention to such trifles.

One of the girls pressed her shoulder against her friend, intertwining her fingers with hers and squeezing her tightly in her palm. A bright smile lit up on her face. There was even a long-forgotten warmth in her hands, and a tenderness that reminded her of their first days spent together, when everything had been very different. It was all about not knowing, it was all about awkwardness and admiration for her bravery and love for all living things. Everything was... yes, everything was.

- Akemi, are you having an influx of love? - Her friend chuckled softly and looked into her companion's eyes. - You snuggled up to me like a kitten.

Madoka's free hand rested on the dark top of her head and stroked her silky hair affectionately, making Homura shudder inwardly and shudder in reality. What had once been a dream was now a reality. A reality?

- Madoka. - Unable to bear it, Homura enclosed Kaname in a hug. Afraid of breaking her from the overabundance of feelings, she had to clutch at her own arm. - Madoka, tell me you'll never leave me.

The pink-haired girl was surprised at such a question, for they were already together always, no matter where they were. Had they always been? It always will be. Is there any other life? Madoka can't realize why such a question popped up, and what she could answer other than “Yes”. This happiness is like plastic, frozen in a single moment and exists incoherently in a single note.

- I will never leave you. - Madoka pressed her cheek against Akemi's face. - You know we are one form.

- No, we are not. - For the first time, the smile came off Akemi's face with a fearful grin.

- Why not? Isn't it beautiful to live as one? - Madoka pulled away from her friend and smiled. Her eyes reflected an unnatural gleam. - You have consumed me, now I am forever a part of you.

- NO!!!

Not even a scream like that was heard by anyone but the two of them. Madoka stared at her friend incomprehensibly, wanting to realize the reason for her sudden change of mood. She wanted to understand why her gaze had changed to a fierce and frightened one, as if Homura had disappeared in an instant, leaving the girl all alone.

- You're... Real. - Breathing heavily, Akemi clutched at her own dress. The rustling of leaves in the neighborhood had become stifling. Now she could hear how unnatural it was. Now all of nature, all of the cherry petals began to scream their truth.

- Of course. - Madoka was still smiling, as if nothing was happening. As if they were still having a conversation about everyday trivialities. - I'm real as long as you believe it.

Homura raised her head to the sky. Because of her imbalance, the entire world around them was beginning to crack imperceptibly. Everything she had built up piece by piece was disintegrating. It was her fault. It was her subconscious's fault for not wanting to agree with just a small part of Madoka. Her subconscious craved all of Madoka. Longing for so long that it was strange to classify that longing as years.

Where is Madoka? Where, does it still exist in fact, or is the small part that was absorbed by Akemi now the one true Madoka? Does anyone besides Akemi remember her, or has the world long ago erased her from its historical cycle? From all cycles? Where are you, Madoka? Will you one day once again return with your bright true light, as you did the first time we met? Or will you come in dreams in your divine form?

However you return, I will accept you. I will wait for you. I will be with you. I will be you.

- Madoka... - Akemi fell to her knees before the one that still exists as Kaname Madoka in her mind. - You are Madoka. Yes, we will be together. No matter how much time passes. I won't let it end.

With her consciousness harnessed, the grits of the world began to return to their original position. The sky no longer split a dark blue, and the rustling of the leaves seemed right and real again. Her hands have also regained a sense of warmth, causing a slight blush to break out on Akemi's face. As long as Madoka touches her, as long as she is held in her arms, she will not let this world fall apart.

Not unless the truth reveals a better scenario, letting it disappear with the ends.

[sueske]

The whole "sakura suffers from loving you" is so much BS, coming from someone like Kakashi, who's seen how awful the shinobi world and it's system can be at first hand and yet him of all people tells sasuke this..... I lost the minimum amount of respect I had for his character from that point on wards

What annoys me the most about that line is that he's so quick to call sasuke out on the things he does (despite sasuke having understandable reasons for his anger and idea for revolution etc etc., all though violence is never the way but this is a story about ninja's who establish the supremacy of their ideologies through violence), but he never does the same with cherry blossom girl

He never gives her a reality check ??? That maybe she should stop seeing sasuke as an object ?? Like why is he enabling her delusion even further by sympathizing with her like that ??

kinda spoke about this before here. I think kakashi projects his feelings onto sasuke to an extent. but because of kakashi's meddling we got to see more of sasuke's explicit thoughts on the matter and we got this iconic panel:

kakashi was trying to defend sakura's feelings but it did the opposite really, it just made her more unlikeable and by extension kakashi as well. sasuke needs a reason to love someone even if kakashi for some reason only needs a reason to hate someone lol. also kishi said he avoided writing the reason for sakura's love for sasuke cuz it would sound too contrived and in the end ended up saying 'there's no reason' for it basically through kakashi lol. which is even funnier considering earlier on kakashi said (who knows why) that 'sakura's feelings deepened' despite her feelings not changing from those in part 1 and in the end kakashi saying 'there's no reason for her love'.

[aparticularbandit]

The Road Less-- Yeah, Yeah, You Know: Chapter One

Summary: When Mikan finds a girl collapsed with a head wound, she can't help but help her out. Even if the girl very adamantly does not want to be helped.

For DR Rarepair Week 2024 Day Three: Self Care/Caring for the Other, hosted by @dr-rarepair-week-blog.

Chapter Rating: M for References of Alcoholism, Physical Abuse, and Child Abuse (aka Mikan references her life, so all of these triggers are potentially here). Fic Rating: M for Reasons Listed Above.

AO3

It was a poem they’d gone through in class earlier that day that did it.

Not that anything could really be blamed for this sort of thing.

Of course, if anything could be blamed for it, well, it would have to be Mikan herself.  She did make the choice to take a different route back to her place than she normally did.  Sure, she’d always been told it was the sketchier route, and sure, it went through some shady streets by other people’s estimations, but if she’s honest with herself, the better parts of town aren’t always really better.  If she takes the route she always takes, then she’ll still end up being….

She brings it on herself, of course.  She knows that.  Besides, all of that abuse, it just means they actually like her, doesn’t it?  Like how the boys on the playground used to pull on her hair or throw rocks at her or tease her – boys are only mean to girls when they like them, and some boys (and girls…and other people) never really grew out of that.  It’s certainly better than…than ignoring her, which people only really do when they don’t care, when they would be happier if she didn’t exist in the first place, and if she’s honest, everyone would probably be happier if she didn’t exist in the first place, which is why she’s always been more than okay when they—

They went through that poem in class earlier, and Mikan paid as much attention as she could, and the cute girl who sat next to her carved a few of the lines from it into her arm over lunch, and she’d cleaned her arm as much as she could and wrapped it up afterwards like she always did, and she didn’t say anything like she always did (because sometimes that helps people remember things, and that means they’ll do better in their classes, and how can you forget someone after using a knife to write words into their flesh), and when she started walking back to her place, she looked at the bandages covering her arm and thought of the lines now permanently etched into her skin (she can do her best to prevent the scarring, but that doesn’t mean it might not still happen) and decided it was time to take the road less traveled.

Or more traveled, maybe, just by people other than her.

But the thing is?

Mikan heard about how dangerous and treacherous these streets were from all of the people along her own street, from her mother and her mother’s many (near interchangeable) boyfriends, but it’s actually….

It’s not that bad?

If anything, it’s calmer.  Gentler.  The breeze stirs the leaves on the trees and Mikan smells cherry blossoms instead of sewage or alcohol or vomit from the drunks next door.  (Or blood, but that’s more often hers than not, and if she tries a little harder, she can still smell blood, and it’s still hers – the stain on her bandage, which probably her mother’s newest boyfriend will notice first, when he laughs at her for being so clumsy.)  The sidewalk isn’t cracked and crumbling here, the streets are mostly paved, and the houses look…nice.  If she listens, she can hear children laughing somewhere.

Mikan passes by an orphanage, and she hates herself for wishing it, but she thinks maybe it would have been better to be here.  But that’s…that’s selfish.  And it makes it sound like she doesn’t love her mother, which absolutely isn’t true – she loves her mother!  Even if her mother doesn’t exactly—

A loud schlump sound breaks into her thoughts.

Mikan recognizes that sound.  It’s the same sound as the drunks next door when one of them gets hit over the head and drops to the ground; it’s the sound of a heavy body dropping but not really down.  The sound of injury, usually.

And – as she always does (because sometimes that sound is someone she knows (never her mother, but occasionally one of her new boyfriends), not that that matters because they know her now, know that she can do exactly what she is about to do), Mikan rushes to the source of the sound.

If she hadn’t paid attention in class that day, if she hadn’t let her classmate carve those words into her arm, if she hadn’t paused before heading back to her place and chosen to take a new route, then she wouldn’t be here right now, and none of this would have happened.

Mikan rushes towards the sound, and she finds a girl around her edge, slumped against a wall, her dark hair pulled in two long ponytails, blood all over the top of her head and dripping down her face.

That’s when the shift happens, if it hadn’t happened earlier – Mikan switching from herself into, well, still herself, but the version of herself she’d like to be all the time, the one who doesn’t have to be scared or afraid or anxious, the one who has control and doesn’t have to resort to anything to be heard.  She makes her way to the other girl, kneels down in front of her, and murmurs, soothing, “I’m Mikan Tsumiki, and I’m here to help you.  I’m the best trained nurse in the area—”  She reaches out to take the girl’s hand in her own.

But the girl snatches her hand away and glares up at Mikan with cold red eyes.  “I’m fi—”  Then she collapses.

Mikan stares at the girl curiously for a moment.  When the girl doesn’t move again, she creeps forward and places two fingers on the pulse point at her neck.  Weak.  Wavering.  Fleeting.  She’s lost too much blood, probably, or that hit on her head did more damage than she’d predicted.  If it’s messed with her brain too terribly much, then there’s nothing she can do about that.  Mikan’s no brain surgeon; she’s a nurse.  There’s only so much she can do.

But what she can do is a lot.

~

It’s quite a bit later before the girl wakes up.

Notably, this is because Mikan has her hands on a lot of medicine that she probably shouldn’t have and wisely, in her estimation, decided to keep the girl out while she carried out all of her other checks and balances (it doesn’t look like brain injury, but she really can’t be sure without imaging technology that she doesn’t have), while she pulled what did not look like glass out of her head and then stitched her skull back up (which was really what she needed the medicine for; the girl didn’t seem like the sort who would stay still while she was doing all of that, and she certainly didn’t want to make things worse), while she bandaged up the other miscellaneous bits and pieces she found during her examination (she was gentle and she was careful and she didn’t do anything untoward), and while she, uh.

Well, she was just the slightest bit afraid of what the girl would do when she woke up.

So she may have, uh.

Strapped her down to the table.

Which of course is likely why the girl glares at her with fire in her eyes when she finally does wake up.

(Mikan was dozing.  She couldn’t just leave her patient alone when she definitely needed her help, and this little hovel separate from the place where she lives is actually....

Let’s just say Mikan likes being here better than she likes being there, and as long as she lets them know later that she was taking care of a patient, usually there’s no punishment for not showing up.  (There’s usually no punishment anyway because that would require either her mother or her mother’s current boyfriend or both of them to notice that she wasn’t there, and that only happens when something goes wrong.  Sometimes she’s grateful to be away when something goes wrong, even if things still go wrong for her when she gets back.))

What’s weird is that the girl isn’t yelling – not at her, not at the situation, not at anyone or anything that might be listening.  She’s not struggling against her straps; maybe she was before Mikan roused from her rest, but if she had, it certainly wasn’t enough to move the hospital bed or the bedsheets or the IV stand or anything, really.  And she’s not….

She’s not afraid.

(Or if she is, she’s really, really good at hiding it.

Mikan’s a little jealous, if she’s honest with herself, but that require being honest with herself, and Mikan’s not as good at that as someone else might want her to be.  She’s very good at deluding herself, actually.  It keeps her sane.)

The girl’s lack of fear sends Mikan back to stuttering, back to anxious, back to uncertain and unsure, and she stumbles over her words, tongue thick with barely waking, “L-l-like I said before, I’m M-M-Mikan Tsumiki.”  She stands and bows to the other girl.  “I-I-I’m—”  She swallows, stands, takes the words she’s about to say and strengthens herself with them, and then doesn’t stutter when she says, “I’m your nurse.  You collapsed with a head wound, and I made sure that you were—”

“I told you.  I’m fine.”

“You’re fine now,” Mikan gently corrects.  “Because I took care of you.”

The girl glares at her unblinking.  “I would have been fine.”

“You would have died.”

“That would have been fine.”  The girl should look away.  She shouldn’t mean that.  She should be softening the steel of those words by refusing to meet Mikan’s eyes, by acting as though she is tough and it doesn’t matter.

Except that this girl, whoever she is, is tough.  She continues to hold Mikan’s gaze with those intense red eyes.  Her tone doesn’t change.  She means exactly what she says.  In her estimation, it would be fine.

Ah.

She knows that feeling.

And because she knows that feeling, Mikan can’t tell this girl that it would not have been fine, no matter how much she may or may not believe that, because that would be like saying it to the version of herself who also believes it would be fine if she died.  (Except that a part of Mikan still desperately wants to live, and she suspects there’s something inside this girl that does, too.)

“W-w-well, um.”  Mikan glances down to her hands, all earnestness lost under that crippling gaze.  “I-I-I didn’t think it would…it would be, um.”  She stops herself.  Shakes her head.  “I won’t ask who…who hurt you, but.”  She licks her lips.  “But if you ever get hurt like that again, y-y-you should come and…come and f-f-find me.  I’ll make sure that y-y-you’re not….”  Her voice trails off, and she swallows.  “I’ll make sure that everything gets better.”

When the girl doesn’t say anything in response, Mikan glances up again, anxious sweat beading at her forehead.  The girl’s expression seems to have softened.  She’s still staring at her, but at least she doesn’t seem to be glaring at her anymore.  That’s…that’s good right?

“What if it’s someone else?” the girl asks, voice soft in the air between them.  “Would you help them, too?”

Mikan’s eyes widen, and she straightens.  “Y-y-yes!!”  She doesn’t smile, although she wants to do so, because the question means that this girl, whoever she is, actually sees some value in her.  Or, at least, in what she’s capable of doing.  “I-I-I don’t....”  Her gaze drops again, and she fidgets, pushing her uneven hair back out of her face.  “Everyone needs help sometimes, and I’m…I’m good at helping people.  E-e-even if…even if maybe they don’t think they should…should be.”

Only then does the girl’s gaze drop.  Maybe she’s considering it.  Thinking about it.  Maybe—

“Are you going to let me go?”

“Oh, oh, oh, y-y-yes!”  Mikan goes to the bed and starts unbuckling the straps.  “I-I-I was just worried you might…you might make things worse if you…if you tried to get out—”

“You were scared that I’d hurt you.”

“N-n-no!”  Mikan flinches.  “I-I-I m-mean, y-y-yes, b-b-but.  I-I thought if I-I explained, th-then—”

“You were right.”

Mikan flinches again as the last of the straps slips off, as the buckle clanks against the metal of the hospital bed, as the girl smoothly sits up, turns on the edge of the mattress as Mikan backs up, and doesn’t glance up at her.  “I-I-I…I was?”  She can hear her own voice growing higher, and she hates it the most when she squeaks.

“Yes.”  The girl pulls the IV out of her arm.  Then she pushes herself off of the bed and stands for the first time at her full height; to Mikan’s surprise, they’re the nearly the same size.  The girl seemed so much smaller than her – not frail, just small.  She still seems small now, but not in a way that makes her nonthreatening.  Just—

The girl meets Mikan’s eyes.  “Maki,” she murmurs.

“H-h-huh?”

“My name,” the girl says.  “Maki Harukawa.”  She doesn’t smile, but she flushes the slightest bit (probably from standing, not from anything else) when she says, “Thank you.”

Mikan blinks, and the girl disappears.

For a moment, Mikan whirls around, as though she might catch a glimpse of Maki again, but there’s nothing, no one.  She takes a deep breath in and crumples into the chair where she’d been dozing before.

She’ll probably never see her again.  That’s…that’s normal for random strangers (not normal for the drunks who live next door to her mother).  And that’s…that’s fine, probably.

(But Mikan wants to see her again.  Which is an awkward thing to want, considering it would mean that the girl was hurt somehow.  She doesn’t really want her to get hurt again.

Except….

Except she does.

(But Mikan is very, very good at lying to herself.  So she’ll lie to herself about that one, too.))

[thatdrunkarchon]

no longer counting without you || hanako x reader headcannons(?)/oneshot || Part two bc I can't with that cliffhanger I literally made

God I literally hate myself- after those hc's I really wanted to do a oneshot follow up because I'd end up feeling really bad afterwards Also I just watched the last video of Stampy's lovely world and I'm crying Like seriously I'm not even kidding ANYWAYSSS Below will include; Angst, Fluff, slightly funny moments, horrible writing lmao

Maybe Hanako made a mistake.

Maybe he should've continued hesitating. If not for just a little bit longer.

Sitting on the windowsill in his bathroom, Yashiro mopping around the floor, staring out the window.

It felt.. increasingly nostalgic. Both the good and bad type.

"Hanako-Kun?" 'Amane?'

He blinked, freezing up. It was just Yashiro. It was just Nene. He turned to her, giving her a confused look.

"...Can I leave for the day?"

He snorted, finding it ironic that he was so tense, like she was about to turn into you or something.

Would she?

"Why do you wanna go home so early on in cleaning? What, another boy asking for a rendezvous in an empty classroom, organizing papers?~" He teased, Yashiro huffed.

"I didn't even go! You threatened me, Hanako-Kun!" She flicked her hair over her shoulder sassily, turning away with the mop in her hand, holding it to her chest and looking up like she was fantasizing.. something.

"I'm going to be meeting up with a new spirit! It's a little white kitty, and they said they were my protector! Uwaa~, I wonder if they can transform into a hot guy and we can fall in love, ehehe~" Yashiro giggled dreamily.

Hanako was.. not amused, to say the least. He jumped down from his place at the windowsill, turning her to face him. "You're going to have to tell me where this 'white kitty' is."

She happily complied. "They said they'd be waiting for me at the entrance of the scho- Hanako-Kun?" And just like that, he was gone.

Blush colored petals falling between an apparition and a cat, gracefully threading through the air like dancers desperate to be seen.

"The cherry blossoms are beautiful, are they not?" The cat would ask calmly, in that all too familiar voice. But he can't be too sure yet. He needs to know whether this milk white feline has overstayed their welcome. They could cause trouble. However harsh he was planning to treat the spirit in front of him, however, died down a bit with just the sound of a voice. He was weak, and he knew exactly why.

'God damnit.'

"You know, I don't think letting yourself in is a good idea, Yōkai. What if you were a Yakubyō gami, hm?" "I am not a Yakubyō gami, nor do I intend to act like one." It politely shut him down. Okay.. Alright. Maybe assuming a Yōkai was a Yakubyō gami was a bit offensive. Next apparition name, then.

"So you're just an apparition then." It nodded. "My job is to protect those who summon me. I do not mean to cause harm in any way by associating with that girl of yours." He couldn't help but perk up at that. There was a tone beneath their words. He just couldn't tell what it was. "Girl of mine? She's simply my assistant." This might be more interesting than he'd ever hoped for. "And what about you? Do you not have some sort of a human form, or are you too embarrassed to change into it? You seem quite stoic, though.." Does it look like they're laughing? He certainly is. "I.. do. Would you feel more comfortable if I was in it?" He didn't care, really. He talked to Yako on the daily, but.. He was kind of curious.

"I guess so."

He was surprised, to say the least.

Of course it was you. It had to be you.

What did you even do to end up like him?

Why didn't you come by sooner?

He was lost for words, how could he not be? You were standing right in front of him.

His hand twitched.

His leg moved forward.

But he didn't move. He couldn't.

This isn't the first time this has happened. Both as dreams and hallucinations. How can he be so sure? How can you blame him?

He regrets a lot of things. But he has to admit, one of the things he regrets most is leaving you behind.

You're still here though. Your not disappearing, he's not waking up, Yashiro talked about you for heavens sake.

A sob escaped him, taking off in a sprint and tackling you to the ground. God, it's been so long since he's even shed a tear.

Maybe he wasn't alone anymore. No, he wasn't.

He was no longer counting without you.

[la-nightraine]

I Like a Lot of Aesthetics,

I wrote this on June 13, 2023 at around 23:41 my local time. For some reason, it stayed in Keep and never got posted, even though I say I like how I wrote it every time. So here you go now, enjoy!

Right now, I like cool-colored neon and synthwave. It's so dreamy and reminds me of "Lavender Haze" by Taylor Swift, and everything else from her album Midnights. It reminds me of stars and the dark and a much needed silence in the world at 2am. They sound like sparkly, twinkling ideas and I feel like strutting amongst them like spotlights on a big concert stage, and I feel like flying up.

Sometimes, I do feel like lofi and rainy days. Not necessarily warm colors, but low-saturated ones that put me to sleep kinda does the thing. It's all about sitting by a window bobbing your head up and down and getting lost in daydreams underneath the blanket you carried over on your shoulders. Maybe it screams lazy energy or that of a slow, calm day---not necessarily productive, but why not try to be while everything's paced nicely.

Other times, I feel pastel and dream pop---pink cloudy skies and Blue Neighbourhood by Troye Sivan. They are days spent playfully in a world of melted cotton candy and never-ending sunsets. Everything feels light and in flight, including me except, well, I've never been high. And it's when you feel so fluffy you could lay on a giant powdery fur and stay there forever.

This doesn't mean I never feel glittery, though. Of course I still do! Sometimes, pop makes you feel like the prettiest girl in the room and when that happens to me, I make sure my gestures show that I'm the prettiest girl to walk down this street today. I may look a little shy from time to time, but that's part of acting like a cutie. Deep down, I'm confident I look nice and that confidence will take a verbal criticism to put down. It doesn't have to be an actual fit of glitters, you just have to feel like you're glimmering under the sun like the winks of an idol.

On select occassions, I'd also feel hot. And by hot, I mean all eyes on me kinda thing. It makes me uncomfortable most of the times, I'm not gonna lie, but for times when it doesn't I do kinda feel like I'm dressed up for revenge. It's all about black and electronic music with a hint of trap, hiphop, or dance, which reminds me a lot of All Out by K/DA. It's like badass neon and powerful but teasing movements, the exact opposite of miss lazy lofi.

Another favorite vibe I have is guitar heavy and good hair days. Is it acoustic swaying with the wind to teach it how to dance? Or is it electric trying at the top of my lungs? I haven't played guitar in ages but I will never forget how it made me feel that one time I played my song onstage and feeling it while also nervous. And it's not like I don't know what it must feel like when I see people enjoy it on their own stages. It can be so alive that it physically tires me, but it can also be just sitting on a chair feeling the feels. I just love it.

The rarest of them all is ethereal and theatrical, because this is something I'm not usually fond of. But when it does happen, it's attempting to act like an angel. I say attempting because, why would I be cast as an angel with a voice like... this? Anyway, it feels more divine than royal, more white than gold, more cherry blossoms falling than freshly bloomed lavender bushes. The feeling of flying is because you have wings, not because the wind is taking you. It's trying really hard to act like you're on top of the world when in reality, you're just a smol bean among 8 billion more beans.

I must admit, there are moments that I can't associate with colors or aesthetic. Just the warmth of the feeling along with the smile that escaped. A little like warm, creamy coffee that makes you melt on your seat. Although sometimes it's more like a push of a button, that of a sudden flush of serotonin, that automatically raises both sides of my lips, narrows my eyes like the happiest kid in town, and commands me to twirl and skip around like a princess in a musical movie--a little like title track Fearless by Taylor Swift, which is by far the sole song of hers that makes me feel this way.

I like a lot of aesthetics and genres. I am not a master nor a jack of all trades; I'm just a mosaic of all the things that I chose and allowed to define me. To most people, it's a bunch of belief systems and physical evidences. To me, it's what paints everyone's eyes colorful and everyone's ears harmonious.

[black-is-iconic]

My Time At Akademi University

A heavy sigh falls from your lips as pink petals fall gracefully from the heavens like a thousand delicate butterflies. Inhaling deeply, you close your eyes and breath the scent of cherry blossoms.

The sweet scent of blooming cherries fills you with a sense of calm as the sakura trees sway gently in the wind, there was almost an air of superiority surrounding the prestigious school everyone walked with pride and a sense of purpose when they entered the premises.

The sounds of a thousand steps like roaring thunder in your ear as you slowly made your way to the foot of Akademi High, almost intimidated by it's elegance.

Akademi was know for taking taking Japan's youth and molding them into blue blooded Ivy league students that would someday become Japan's most influential and pristine citizens, perfect students for a perfect school...quite the reputation to live up to....another sigh falls from your lips as you take that first step toward your future with confidence.

As you enter, you notice the sea of students splitting off into their own respective cliques you'd done your research prior to applying for this school, just so you knew whose toes to avoid stepping on and what clique you should join.

For example Musume Ronshaku and her brainless carbon copies, the bullies or mean girls of Akademi High. Like a tight knit group of pestilent pariah picking on anyone below them who didn't fit in either with their class, or lack thereof.

Then there were the theater kids....with their flamboyant and overly dramatized movements, colorful glamorous outfits, flashy accessories and overblown attitudes; it kinda screamed closet gays. Then there were the emos who made their entire personalities...black, black hair, black clothes, black eyeliner, black bags...

Being part of the brainless bimbos would be nice. You would instantly gain status and influence within the inner circle of the student body, but they were also hated by the people they picked on being associated with them would instantly earn you a negative reputation as well.

And you really wanted to stay neutral this time around so that was a big ol nope, it was a no for the drama kids and the emos too.

You were almost sure that joining the emo's would result in bullying, and the theater kids....well they typically sat in a gray zone which sometimes dipped into bullied territory.

Yet another sigh fell from your lips as you made your way to your lockers and swapped your shoes following the slow moving kids through the plain white halls. Taking in all you're new school had to offer, colorful posters promoting the various clubs sat plastered across the walls accompanied by a slew of trophies , pictures, medals and awards encased in a glass case.

As you continued to traverse the halls your phone vibrated in your pocket, pulling out your phone you noticed a little notification pop up and open a text message.

Curious at the message you open up the message and read the message which simply said: Welcome to Akademi High....the text came from an unknown number which you swiftly blocked and kept on walking.

But then your phone vibrated in your hand drawing your attention back to the screen where the same number texted you again :My name is Info-chan I'd advise against blocking my number you may need my services in the future...the text reach and you pursed your lips looking around the with an arched brow at the text before typing a response.

: Thanks Infochan, but I'm good no need but how did you unblock yourself from my phone? There was a long pause before a reply came in :that's just one of my many talents..I assure you you'll need my services sooner then you think everyone does, and with that you slide your phone in your pocket.

Red flags, red flags everywhere your mind echoed at you trying to figure out why you felt something off about Infochan but you shoved it aside for now and vowed to have your phone swept for bugs, viruses, or secret malware later.

As you turned a corner you ran smack dab into a brick wall, or at least something that very similar and fell on your butt.

A boisterous laugh filled your ears "sorry about that I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and was kinda rushing see I'm late for my martial arts club let me help you up" his voice was deep smooth and soothing like a velvet soft caress to your senses.

Puberty did him well he was tall and handsome with short black hair, that feathered out around his hair framing his creamy face in beautiful dark wisps.

Two stormy gray eyes peered down at you like two swirling clouds in a winter storm, his lips curved slightly into a kind smile. "Sorry about that" he said offering his hand which you took, his hands were warm rough and calloused as he pulled you to your feet, "it's alright" you managed a nervous chuckle falling from your lips as you took in the school uniform that seemed rather tight along his toned body.

His eyes did a quick sweep of you and you could practically hear the gears turning inside of him, suddenly he snapped and smiled and it was rather.....cute "you must be new here" he beamed in a charmingly manner. "Wow brawns and brains..." your mouth ran faster than your brain could process and he laughed once more as you flushed in embarrassment.

"New girls got jokes" he grinned and you giggled a bit nervously rubbing the back of your neck "I'm Budo Masuta"

"Y/N L/N" you responded he squinted for a moment "huh that sounds foreign you're not from here are you?" He asked tilting his head in curiosity "wow two for two you're really observant aren't ya?"

You mused rubbing your arm and he laughed again "I think I might like you new girl you're kinda funny" he commented with a grin.

"Don't get too comfortable I don't usually make a habit of hanging around meatheads" you quipped and he snickered before dramatically acting hurt "aww come on now I'm not that bad, I'm genuinely a nice guy", you roll your eyes walking past him "well if you excuse me mister nice guy I have places to be" you called over your shoulder as you made your way to your way further down the halls.

[deepspacevivarium]

I posted 891 times in 2022

That's 550 more posts than 2021!

272 posts created (31%)

619 posts reblogged (69%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@arachn0philia

@hannah-the-small

@ladiesofhell

@a-hazbin-spider

I tagged 891 of my posts in 2022

#(ic) - 411 posts

#(angel dust) - 365 posts

#(musings) - 272 posts

#(q) - 177 posts

#(ooc) - 164 posts

#(charlie) - 133 posts

#(asks) - 96 posts

#arachn0philia - 73 posts

#(alastor) - 72 posts

#(dash com) - 48 posts

Longest Tag: 109 characters

#(please don't message me like 'owo hi' if your ulterior motive is to make me remember that i owe you replies)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

@hannah-the-small​ | from here

Oh, Blinky opened his mouth to suggested maybe he could take it... but he felt mean taking it. Even if his tail was wagging behind it and his eyes were locked on it.

“It’s so cute! I hope we can find it a good home,” Charlie is saying. The two girls notice Blinky looking, and Phisaya smiles sheepishly. She recognizes him, but she doesn’t want to bring up their last meeting and make it awkward.

See the full post

11 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

#4

@hannah-the-small​ | from here

"... I don't know. I-... think so." Blinky answered quietly, still stood not far from the doorway. He could slip back out, he could bolt and take his chances... but they were right, Honeybear was still looking for him.

“Well, if you’re looking for the Happy Hotel, you’ve reached the right place!” She comes out from behind the desk to greet him. By no means is she a short girl; at six feet even, she towers over the imp. The golden name tag on her button-down tee reads ‘Charlie Morningstar’. Her face is lit up like sunlight; new guests always put her in a good mood!

“My name’s Charlie. We got a call about a new guest coming in, which I’m assuming is you, so I went ahead and had a room prepared. It’ll be about ten minutes until it’s ready; in the meantime, I was thinking we could start the onboarding process. How does that sound?”

11 notes - Posted July 24, 2022

#3

(I hope whoever drew this frame got a good laugh out of it)

12 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

#2

@kiss-thiss-niss | from here

It was about time, honestly. He figured his brother had to be duckin'his calls too, but Niss also had to be careful when and where he called him so that it didn’t get back to their old man.  It took a while, but he finally got an answer, and finally got a chance to meet with him.

“Bout fuckin’ time honestly was starting ta think ya didn’t know how to use ya fuckin'phone.” Grumpy ass greeting from a grumpy ass spider.

He worries about his brother though, truly, even if he doesn’t say it… it’s why he always takes notice of the smaller details…

“What, Ah–….what'cha got going on wit'your side there…”

Angel Dust has been avoiding Arackniss’ calls because he doesn’t like his brother. No matter how much time has passed, Niss is still too close to their father for Angel to feel comfortable being around him. So, agreeing to meet up with him is done with extreme reluctance.

“I know how ta use my phone,” Angel snaps. No ‘hi’, no ‘how are you’. Just him and his scowling and his lower set of arms folded around his torso. He shifts his hands to cover the blossom of red on his side and feigns nonchalance.

“I was just busy, ‘kay? You caught me in the middle a’ hangin’ out with some pals.” That is to say, he, Cherri, and some other demons were busy having a turf war. Just like in that one video game, except instead of ink it’s bullets and whatever weapons they can get their hands on. And Angel had gotten careless.

“Didja need me for somethin’?” He’d swiped some of Val’s cigarettes before going out tonight, and when he takes the first puff, he coughs. That’s some strong shit, but it distracts him from the worrying throb in his side. He hopes Niss doesn’t look too closely; he’ll see Angel shaking if he does.

See the full post

18 notes - Posted October 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

ABOUT, RULES

Unaffiliated, mutuals-only multimuse written by Saya. Now featuring Charlie!

19 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[janiqe]

52 Weeks Challenge- Week 1

My first "challenge" was to start a story. I used a generator to get some plots, which I mashed up and mixed around >:)

Here is what I have so far (not much):

Chapter 1 

Leaves swayed lightly to the soft breeze. As I stared into his eyes, cherry blossoms flew through the air, converting the streets into beautiful pink. The candle between us glowed, illuminating his face. I could feel myself leaning toward him, absorbing every word he said-  

Or not. 

I was actually sitting in 32 degrees Fahrenheit, freezing. There was no “soft breeze”, just the harsh wind that seemed very interested in hurtling leaves into my face. The guy in front of me was complaining about how a girl in his class got to use the elevator and that it was so unfair. I’d been doing a great job at refraining myself and not pointing out that it was unfair that I had to listen to this guy while my joints became hard as a rock. 

Livie, my best friend, had made the blind date sound romantic and a great way to bring some color into my life. I’m never going on a blind date again. Or listening to Livie for that matter. I thought grumpily.   

I stood to get up, straightening my dress as I did. “I’ve got to head out,” I told him with a sweet smile that he didn’t deserve. “It was great meeting you!”   

“Wait!” He hissed, reaching across the table and grabbing my forearm. Crap! The skin underneath screamed in protest, but I hid my grimace. 

“Um… is there something you want to tell me?” I gave him my best please-let-go-of-my-arm-before-I-commit-murder-look.  

“It’s just… I’ve never met anyone like you!” He said, his eyes growing big. “Don’t you want to go on another date?” 

Oh. He likes me? I blinked at him. I barely said anything. He did all the talking. “Look, I think you’re nice but I’m not interested. I’m sure you’ll find the right girl!” 

He tightened his grip on my hand and I seriously considered hitting him with my backpack. “But I really like you!”  

Where he had gotten the idea that if he liked someone, they had to like him back was beyond me. “Please let go of me,” I told him calmly. 

He didn’t. I tried to break my arm from his grip, but it was like a death grip. “Let go,” I said again. I was prepared to kick him if he didn’t let go of my arm in the next three seconds.  

“Hey,” We both looked up to see a guy around our age with wavy blonde hair that covered deep brown eyes. He was wearing an oversized T-shirt over a pair of jeans. Damn, he’s hot. I thought. No! You’re arm is being held hostage!  

“I think when someone says ‘Let go,’ it usually means they want you to stop.” Somehow Cute Guy looked both amused and disgusted. “Looks very romantic, by the way. Grabbing onto her arm.”  

My date let go of my arm and glared at Cute Guy. “Bye,” He told me before leaving. As soon as he let go, though, I rubbed my forearm. The cut underneath burned. 

“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate you helping me out.”   

“Yeah, of course.” He replied. “Why’d you go on a date with him?” 

I looked at Cute Guy in confusion. What, does he want to talk since he helped me? I was overthinking. Probably just friendly. 

“It was a blind date,” I explained. “My friend thought it would be good to put myself out there.” 

“Oh. Did you want to go on a blind date?” He asked. 

“Not particularly, but I thought I’d humor her.” I replied, not sure why I was telling him this. 

“I get that,” Cute Guy said.  

“Really?” 

“My parents have been setting me up on blind dates.” He said, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t see the point in going on dates right now.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “Busy?” 

He laughed. “Yep.”

[httpshujii]

RINDOU IS CURIOUS !

Rindou x f!reader

ᯓ Why was that ring so important to you?

Rindou was once in love. He was in love with cherry blossoms, in love with the moon, and in love with Spirea flower bushes. He fell in love with these things because you were in love with them.

He was only eight when he first met you, playing with small water guns with his brother. Chasing each other around the playground, the younger Haitani looked away from his direction for a little too long, only to bump into you, a mere child that wasn’t older than him by much.

He didn’t care much at first, but the small sounds of sniffling didn’t go unnoticed. Looking back down at you, a frantic girl searching for something that fell.

“No no no..”

Small hands patting down at the floor to feel something other than small pebbles and twigs. Rindou grew curious.

He wasn’t curious about much, he has Ran to explain things for him when needed, but Ran is long gone trying to fix his braid that got ruined from all the running.

With a sigh, Rindou crouched down to the crawling girl.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?”

Looking up, Rindou sees nothing but fat tears, puffy cheeks, and wet lips. The sight of such sad, doe eyes making his stomach jump once, “A ring..”

With the back of your hands, you wipe away your tears, trying to get a good look at the boy in front of you, “A ring?”

“A ring,” you confirm, “a golden one.”

With a hum from his throat, Rindou looks around with you. But with Ran cutting Rindou’s moment short, he had to go home for dinner.

“Sorry, gotta go.”

You barely talked, but you liked him. He helped you.

“W-wait!” chasing after him shortly, Rindou turns with an arched brow, “Hm?”

“Your name.” It sounded like a demand, but he would think otherwise with how shy you look, twiddling with the skirt of your dress, your lips out in a pout.

“Rindou.”

“I’m [name]!”

“See you.”

You came to the playground the next day in search of your ring, maybe also hoping to see Rindou. You like Rindou. He’s funny looking. But he helped you.

You walked around the area that you bumped into him, searching with your eyes as if your life depended on it.

“Why is it so important to you?”

You perk up and smile at the sound of your new friend, “Rindou!”

“You’re so loud..”

“Sorry.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What’s important?”

“The ring.”

Your smile drops and you furrow your brows, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

He snorts at that, his lip twitching up into a mock smile, “I’m probably older than you.”

“How old are you?” Your arms cross over your chest, hip tilting to the side in a sassy manner.

“Eight.”

“Aw shucks…”

“Why is it important.” Rindou is curious, he wasn’t curious about much.

“I’ll tell you when I’m older.”

You’re so persistent, Rindou doesn’t like that, “Please?”

With a shake of your head, he sighs and grows impatient, “If I help you and find your ring, will you tell me?”

“I guess.”

“You promise?”

He held out his pinky, immediately, you link yours with his, “Promise.”

Rindou made it his life goal to find that ring. He would spend days with you, this went on for what felt like forever until you both suddenly forgot about it.

You both grew up to be the closest of friends. He grew fond of your likes and dislikes, he learned so much from you, and despite his walk into fights and ill doings, he still treated you as always.

Unfortunately for his known identity, you became a target of many. Driven by the greed to beat the Haitani’s place and only cause more corruption than there already is, Rindou protected you.

Until he saw you fall to the roots of a cherry blossom tree. Your blood painting the trunk of the tree. It was a cold spring night. And despite the ice in the air and in Rindou’s heart, he blushed at your warm smile, your breathless giggle, and your last words.

“Guess I’ll have to tell you when we meet again, huh Rin.”

Rindou was curious, he wasn’t curious about much.

He was curious about why he cried so much and why he frantically called your name despite your skin going cold, why did he hug you and whisper words he wanted to tell you on so many occasions and why couldn’t he protect you.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Rindou dragged his feet across the tiled floor of the playground. It’s been a month since you left, a whole month of being alone.

He cried every night since then, “You’re an idiot. You broke your stupid promise.”

Rindou looked around the park, everything is so small now. And dark.

Always at home for dinner time, not allowed to be out past six in the evening.

He walks towards a small flower bush. Pink buds of baby petals, ‘Spirea’ you once told him.

“They’re pretty right Rin-rin?”

“You’re prettier.” He wished to say.

“I’m an idiot.”

The moon is out tonight, he turns to face it.

“The moon is my best friend.” You smiled a little too brightly for his liking.

“What about me?”

“You’re my favorite-best friend.”

“Can I be more?” He wished to ask.

He walked a little further, a glint of something shiny catching his eye as he looked away from the bush.

Rindou is curious, he isn’t curious about much.

He walked back to the bush, crouching down to toss with the soil.

Another glint, and gently pinching his thumb and pointer around a small object.

Gray eyes widen and tears threaten to spill as he holds a golden ring in his palm, the little thing is faded of color, but nothing a rinse in the water can’t fix. How is it still there? After all these years?

“You’re supposed to tell me now.”

He smiled for the first time in a month. And cried for the nth time this month.

“Rindou, what's with the necklace?”

Ran is observant, Rindou doesn’t like that.

“Just thought it’d be cool.”

The younger one answers, one hand pushing his glasses up his nose and the other spinning the golden ring on the silver chain that decorates his neck.

[ichihero]

As soon as the man disappears from his sight, Ichiban turns around to face the girl who's still standing there, staring at him. Well, this is always the awkward part. Even when doing what's morally correct, people's reactions can be unpredictable. The last thing he wants is to be screamed at in public for attacking somebody who's actually an important customer of the establishment. It wouldn't be the first time.

He really didn't think it through, but then again, does he ever? While trying to come up with an apology, he feels a light touch that makes him freeze for a moment. Although it's been awhile since he got out of prison, he's still getting used to people touching him so casually. Except for the fight that cost him three years of his freedom - and how he could forget something like that? - Ichiban barely talked to anyone during that time, let alone touch them. The feeling is not bad, just... unexpected.

❝ No, no, no! You're not intrusive at all. I should be the one introducing myself. The name's Kasuga Ichiban. ❞ When he bows, he can see the cherry blossom petal falling to the ground. So that's what it was. ❝ Not a regular, no. I mean, not yet! My friends said they needed a break, and this place looked nice enough so I said, why not? They seem to be enjoying it a lot. ❞ Some more than others. The fact that they didn't get kicked out yet was a mystery in itself. He wants to ask a bunch questions like who is that man?, did he bother you before now, do you think he's dangerous?, but they all sound incredibly invasive. After all, why would she confine in a stranger? Instead, he settles on a simple question. ❝ Are you alright? ❞

She was accustomed to her profession and its consequences. Occasionally, her clients exhibited philanthropic behavior and composure, whereas other times they displayed demanding attitudes, resorting to terrorism. Orihime’s compassion and ethereal comeliness made her a sought-after hostess. Despite her immense fortitude, at times, situations escalated beyond her capacity. Numerous men held the belief that they could conveniently manipulate her, neglecting societal norms and boundaries, all for the sake of obtaining the desired object: HER.

She was often seen by many as nothing more than an item, frequently objectified in a sexual manner by those who coveted her. As a consequence of a patron’s unsuitable behavior, she found herself obligated to banish him from the premises in order to uphold the serene ambiance and prevent it from being tainted by the hooligan. Clearly, this provoked his displeasure and incited his ire. She attempted to bid him farewell with pleasantry, yet he callously slapped her. As if Inoue could be held accountable for his inappropriate behavior.

Her agape roseate margins uttered nothing. She wasn’t prepared for the unexpected appearance of a chivalrous white knight to save her. He was exceptionally robust compared to the other individual. It was as if he had obliterated the other person’s soul, prompting them to flee in desperation. With a graceful motion, she lifted her winsome countenance to face him, tilting it to the side, causing her exquisite auburn mane to undulate. “Arigatou.” Finally, her delicate timbre echoed. “Are you a regular here? I don’t think I ever saw you.” A tender tepid palm traveled until his peculiar hair, removing smoothly a petite cherry blossom petal. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t want to be intrusive.” Inoue didn’t want to make him mad. The lingering effects of the previous incident continued to instill fear in her. However, his demeanor was serene, setting him apart from her other customer.