#~ooc: Characters Mentioned in this Drabble

[dreamingdragonscion]

To Everyone I Know, With Love From Tiki <3

The blank page of the reflective assignment stared back at her, unmoving and not even a speck of ink nor paint coloured the canvas before her. Tiki continued to stare at the blank parchment with a scrunched face, swinging her legs back and forth in attempts to help rack her brain. The white paper taunted her and the little manakete threw herself into the soft plush bed behind her desk. “It's not fair!” She wailed into her pillow, stuffing her face into the soft covers and rolling around and around on her bed before pulling the pillow down, away from her face, still on the bed as she stared at the ceiling with shiny jade eyes. “I can’t choose just one person to write about who I appreciate.” She whined into the pillow, burying herself under the many layers of blankets on her bed. 

Holding up under the blanket fort, Tiki curled up like a petty child, refusing to leave her tiny cave until she could figure a way out of this plight. She had already been scolded for being late on the assignment, and her teachers refused to give her extra time for the assignment. The reflective essay was already submitted by all the students on the campus and she was the only one. 

The only one, who had yet to decide what to write. 

Peeking out from under the covers at her desk where the blank sheet of paper fluttered in the slight breeze that billowed through her curtains, Tiki stuck out her tongue at it, making faces at it in disdain. The winds picked up a little bit more and the paper was blown off the table, waving in the air as it landed on the small pile of varied items in the corner of her room. Pulling herself out from under the covers, Tiki crawled over to her little hoard and she picked up the paper from her precious pile. 

The many trinkets that were precariously balancing on each other fell over onto the floor, spilling over the ground with a shuffle of sounds. With a pouty huff, Tiki began to pile the trinkets back into their extremely carefully balanced pile, but as she picked up the trinkets one by one, she paused on each and every one of them. 

Her fingers ruffled through the scarf that Xane once had, but this piece was long torn off by the heat of the battle back on Archanea. “I like Xane because he taught me how to feel more free and happy. His tricks are mean sometimes but I find it funny!” She placed his scarf aside. 

A red flower sat next to Xane’s scarf and Tiki held it to her nose, enjoying the scent from the dried pressed flower. The redness reminded her of Maria. “Sis Maria is always so happy and really good at healing. She feels like I have a real little sister, so I like her too!” She placed it together with a pale purple flower. “And Miss Deirdre… she feels like Mother. Its strange but I feel like I like Miss Deirdre too.”

There were other things that she remembered collecting from the ball. A shed feather from Leanne, a dried cherry from Mae that still smelled sweet in the little glass jar she put it in. A colourful gossamer powder of blue and red from Lilith, a deep green petal that reminded her of Kurth and even the strange card she received detailing Big Brother Artur. She smiled and appreciated them all, for being her friend, for coming to her and making her smile.

There was a small card in the pile and Tiki squealed, little fingers wrapped around the card and holding it towards the ceiling light. “This one is from Professor Dark! I love Professor Dark’s class and he is so funny and strong and nice! He says the funniest things and I love it! He makes me feel happy when we play games together!” Storing the card into a tiny box, Tiki continued through her pile.

Her fingers ruffled through the items and pulled out a broken sword handle, rusted on its ends and blunt from time. “I like Kris-Mar because he was really nice to me and he looked out for me a lot! He is a bit serious but he is brave enough to protect everyone!” And she touched the worn out hilt, pressing a thumb into it and pretending to swing the sword up and down before putting it into the hoard. 

A letter from Bantu was procured next, and Tiki took her time reading through it bit by bit, running her fingers over each word that she recited in her head, as if Bantu was speaking to her right there and then in the moment. She held the letter tight to her chest, hugging it with all her might. “I love Ban-Ban for saving me from that awful nightmare. For bringing me where I wanted to go, for showing me all the places I love and want to see.” 

Without putting down the letter, Tiki held up a pegasus feather, hugging it close to her chest. “I love Big Sister Caeda for being so nice to me, for baking me sweet treats, and for helping me when I feel sad. Oh, I love Big Sister Caeda when she takes me flying on her pegasus. She feels like a real big sister that I love so much!” And finally, the famous plush doll of the Hero-King. “Mar-Mar.” And her smile returned ever so warmly to her, reaching out hugging the doll tight. “I love Mar-Mar with all my heart. For protecting me, for being there for me when I felt lonely and sad. He saved me so many times, and I can never love Mar-mar enough.” She stood up, with a giggle. “If my love for Mar-mar could be counted it would be…” She squeezed her eyes to think for a number before she squealed. “Infinite!” The blank piece of parchment paper fell to the floor, touching her feet with a subtle lightness, and then it clicked. The teachers told her to write what she appreciated about people. 

It never said to write about only one. 

Putting all her treasure hoard on her table one by one. Tiki let the warmth in her heart inspire her to pick up the ink pen once more. Her messy penmanship scribbled over the paper in an attempt to write properly for once. 

“To every one I lov with all my haart.” She began with a smile, the sun shining on the paper and her smile from the window.

[idolsummons]

[mystical-strawberry-sheep]

"Please stay out of my head today..."

Hanekoma looked up from what he was doing to the young lady taking a seat at his counter, eyes downcast and shadowed by the bill of her cap. It wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for her to come in in a state like this, but the request was odd. Aku always had a hard time saying what was on her mind, so she usually preferred to have her thoughts read. Sure, there were always rules. There were still things in her mind she preferred not to address, like the imaginary boyfriend situation or her more childlike thoughts. But for the most part she was happy to let him scan her and puzzle out the thoughts and emotions she couldn't find the words to articulate. She had never really asked for him to just stay out before.

Hanekoma turned back to start making her usual order, and he spoke to her over his shoulder, "What happened? Do ya wanna talk about it?"

"No..." A soft reply. He had to strain to hear it.

Whatever it was must have been awful, he thought. She found comfort in his words, usually. She always wanted to talk to him, to get all of that pain off of her chest and have someone to hide in. It was uncharacteristic of her to ask not to have an outlet.

"I can't help ya if ya don't talk to me, ya know," he said softly. "Not that I want to force ya or anything, but... You know it's not gonna get better until ya talk to someone about it."

He waited but received no answer, so instead he finished up the coffee and brought it around so he could see her for himself. As quiet as she had been, he should have known that she was crying. Silent and still, and refusing to look up, the only real way to tell was the streaks along what parts of her cheeks weren't covered by the bill of her cap and the droplets falling on the countertop. Whatever happened had really bothered her, and he wasn't sure what to do to help.

Another stress on top of all of the rest...

He reached under, and Aku flinched hard as his hand came up to gently wipe the tears away. She was trembling all over, and while she didn't pull away she was trying very hard to remain rigid and unyielding to his attempt to comfort her. It was almost like she was trying to run away from him. He couldn't understand it, not without dipping into her head. She had asked him not to, but... Would it really hurt, just this once?

"There is no helping," she choked. "No one can help me. I'm awful. I hate myself so much. I hate everything about myself. Why are you like this? Why am I like this? I wish I were..."

"Don't," Hanekoma cut in. It didn't sound like she was going to continue that sentence, but just in case he didn't want to give her the space to. "Don't say that. Sweet Tooth, if ya just tell me what's goin' on in that head'a yours... or at least lemme look on my own, I could probably help ya feel better, ya know? I could make it better."

Shaking, Aku pulled her arms up and buried her face into them, sobbing even harder. No way to hide the sounds now, she cried heavily into the shelter she'd made of herself. She had come here even though she knew it was a bad idea. What did one do when their safe place turned into a prison? A trap? A torture house? How did she find safety when the person who had always made her feel safe was now the aggressor?

And he didn't even know it. And she couldn't find a way to explain it without ruining everything. And there was no chance of what she was looking for anyway, because it was all an idolized dream that didn't exist in reality. Why was she like this? Why did she get so attached to people that did not care about her? Why did she always become so desperate when she felt like someone was being kind to her? No one would ever care about her, no matter what she did, and it would always end poorly, so why did she keep letting herself get close to people?

A warm hand on her back, and she didn't have the energy to pull away. It wasn't in her head, either. Mr. Hanekoma always pet her when she was feeling bad. So perfect, this person. So wonderful and loving. Probably surrounded by people who were vying for his attention. Considerate and trustworthy. And she had to go and ruin everything.

Her energy fell away, and before she could really do anything about anything or get up and leave, she'd fallen asleep right there at the counter, coffee untouched. Hanekoma moved her around a bit to remove and clean her glasses, but he didn't try to wake her up. That would have only happened because she was exhausted from this, and if he couldn't help her, the least he could do was take care of her.

He refrained from peeking in her mind. And she dreamed that things were different.

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi! Is it okay if I ask for another homicipher fic? I just got all the endings, and I'm obsessed. What about Scarletta trying to be physically affectionate with MC after seeing how protective Mr. Crawling is with them (perhaps even secretly peeking/knowing how often the crawling man hugged you, you two petting or shaking each other's heads, and using the word "cute" on each other.) I need Scarletta jealous 🫣

⊱ Blood-stained Lips ⊰ || Mr. Scarletella X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

Character(s): Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (MC’s Lore and Specifically Scarletella Rain Ending), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror Elements), Mild Jealousy, Slightly Suggestive. Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Light Angst (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,140 words Request: “Hi! Is it okay if I ask for another homicipher fic? I just got all the endings, and I'm obsessed. What about Scarletta trying to be physically affectionate with MC after seeing how protective Mr. Crawling is with them (perhaps even secretly peeking/knowing how often the crawling man hugged you, you two petting or shaking each other's heads, and using the word "cute" on each other.) I need Scarletta jealous 🫣” Author’s Note: Okay so, like… Mr. Scarletella is probably one of the more nerve-wracking characters for me to write for, but I absolutely adored this ask, so I gave writing him in drabble format a shot! (It’s also pretty funny how the fandom has unanimously agreed that Mr. Crawling and Mr. Scarletella would not get along and would be actively antagonistic toward each other lmao). I think his dynamic with the MC is fascinating… the whole parasocial relationship the two of them have going on throughout the game is such a unique choice (love the simp energy he gives off, too, since I wasn’t expecting that from his character haha). This ended up being kind of suggestive at the end?? Nothing too crazy or anything, just him being very happy about being able to touch you. Anyway, I hope this isn’t too OOC – enjoy! 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

Even though his memories had been forgotten, parts of himself and his identity erased after you successfully defeated him, Mr. Scarletella occasionally found himself thinking of moments he couldn’t even recall witnessing. 

In his mind, he sees you with another resident of the realm, their long black hair cascading down their form while their laugh echoes through an empty corridor. He sees their fingers threading through your hair, moving their hands up and down along your scalp, and tousling your locks… 

Mr. Scarletella hears your laughter fill the space, too. The sound is light and airy, and he finds his chest tightening at the hazy memory. It’s an uncomfortable feeling and certainly was not one he enjoyed experiencing. It almost felt like knives being shoved repeatedly into his torso, a stinging and aching sensation that spread throughout his entire body from a singular point.

Almost absentmindedly, his hand comes to rest on the left side of his chest, the side where a heart would be located if he possessed one like you did. Mr. Scarletella hears a gentle murmur interrupt his thoughts, a noise that cuts through the fog in his mind like a saw slicing through flesh and sinew. 

“You okay?” Your voice echoes, and his pitch-black eyes dart down to meet with yours. You’re holding a red umbrella – his very heart and soul – in your hands. Your hold isn’t painful, nor is it gentle. It was perfect, just like you, he thought to himself. 

Rain drips down the water-resistant material of the umbrella that was permanently stained a bright, bloody red, and it falls onto the clear rubber of your raincoat before sliding down your form. Both the umbrella and your coat effectively keep your body dry from the elements. Mr. Scarletella, on the other hand, was completely soaked, having no issue walking beside you while the rain clung to his clothing and chilled his skin.  

If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the heat of your body spreading throughout his chest and warming his form from the inside out. Oh, how happy he would be if the small flame within him sparked into something more, forming a fiery inferno inside his body. Even if you were to burn him, set an uncontrollable blaze within him that only left an empty husk behind, he would be content.  

Your brows are furrowed while you crane your neck back to look at him, the sound of rain around the two of you, effectively breaking up the long stretch of silence. He was acting a bit strange today, you thought to yourself. While the man dressed in red was never really normal in the conventional sense, he was much more quiet today than usual. 

Mr. Scarletella’s gaze used to be immensely nervewracking, his hollow stare once being able to cause the hair on the back of your neck to stand on edge, but you had grown used to it after spending so much time together. The two of you were in your old realm, the one you left behind to stay in the other world. You were fairly close to the haunted apartments he used to call his home and the site where you would dump the bodies of anyone unfortunate to cross your path… The start of everything that led you to where you are now. 

“You quiet… What you thinking about?” You ask him, shifting the hold of the umbrella in your hand to the other. You hadn’t brought your weapon today, wanting to give Mr. Scarletella a chance to experience a “typical” date, one that didn’t consist of violence and murder for a change. However, he had been in a daze since the two of you arrived, and that was somewhat out of character for him. 

Shifting your stance to better face him, your feet sink slightly into the mud beneath you. You look down at your boot-clad feet and frown. While you had grown used to being in a constant state of uncleanliness since the other world didn’t have showers readily or easily available, it was still quite annoying to clean mud from the soles of your shoes. This was the type of mud that threatened to pull your shoe from your foot if you were to try tugging on it, but you pushed your frustration to the side to focus on the man in front of you. 

Mr. Scarletella hums and reaches his hand out to your head, placing his palm against your hair, and you freeze. Your hair sticks to his deathly cold hand, almost as if static electricity was coursing through his fingers. 

It was soft under his skin, your hair, yet he could feel that some knots had begun to form near the base of the strands. Then, he begins to rub his hand back and forth, effectively messing your hair up even more. Your mind blanks at his sudden movement, the action reminding you of Mr. Crawling.

“Why… you touch me?” You ask, staring up at him as the rain begins to fall even harder, your grip on the umbrella in your hand tightening around the handle. The rain was so heavy that you could barely see into the distance, the horizon completely covered in a thick, gray mist. A sudden gust of wind blew Mr. Scarletella’s red hair, and within his usually hollow eyes swirled something you had never seen within them before. 

It reminded you of a storm rolling in across the ocean waves, a variety of emotions spiraling within his ashen irises. His hand never once leaves your body, instead sliding down the side of your head to cup your cheek in his palm. Whenever he touched you, it felt like TV static against your flesh, and you could see white-and-black dots begin to dance across your vision as a light hum filled your ears. 

Mr. Scarletella’s flesh is cold, and it reminds you of a corpse the chill his touch leaves in its wake. His head tilts to one side and he whispers to you, his voice barely audible above the rain crashing around you, “I want you – want to touch you.” 

Before you can even speak or formulate a response to his words, he quickly pulls his hand away from your skin. It felt like you had burnt him, yet he found himself not minding the stinging sensation that danced across his flesh. His hand dropped lifelessly to his side before he muttered an apologetic, “Sorry. Shouldn’t have touched you.”

After taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you shake your head and tell him, “...You okay,” before turning on your heel to walk away. You glance at him over your shoulder, his form becoming further soaked from the storm. It was kind of amusing, you thought, seeing such a previously powerful entity look like a stray, sopping-wet cat. 

Eventually, you gesture for him to come with one hand, the order of, “Follow me.” coming out of your lips, loud enough for him to hear.

He teleports to you before you can even finish your sentence, staring down at you with those unnerving eyes of his as he waits to see where you want to go. A huff of air forces its way out of your nose, chuckling at his obedience before you lightly graze his hand with your nails. It’s strange touching him, his form more like an illusion than a body made of flesh and blood. 

The two of you make your way across the waterlogged fields and flooded, muddy roads. Your footsteps splash in the puddles beneath you as you walk while Mr. Scarletella moves without making a single noise, merely a ghost in this world. Soon, however, the abandoned apartments come into view, and you lead him inside the old concrete structure. 

You pause as soon as your feet make contact with the cracked floor of the building, making sure that you can’t hear the sound of another living being within the hollow corridors. You close the umbrella when nothing catches your attention, making sure to shake it a few times to try and remove the raindrops that have accumulated on its surface. You watch as the water falls to the ground, making small, dark grey circles on the concrete. 

Looking over your shoulder, you watch as Mr. Scarletella watches you in return while holding the umbrella, waiting patiently for you to say something as a shiver runs down his spine. His hands that were hanging at his sides were closed, and he was clenching and unclenching his fingers almost like he was fighting the urge to place his palms against your skin once more.  

You can’t help but chuckle at his demeanor, placing the now-closed umbrella down so it was leaning against the wall. You do the same, leaning back on the wall before you hold your arms out to him, saying with a small smirk, “You can touch me.”

You jumped slightly at the speed at which he appeared in front of you. His body hunched over yours while he watched your expression intently, his black eyes partially hidden behind the thick curtain of red hair that cast shadows across his sickly complexion. Mr. Scarletella places his palm on your head, telling you smoothly, “Thank you.”

One of his hands begins to tentatively pat your skull while he enjoys the feeling of your hair against his palm. Then, his other hand soon joins, and you close your eyes while you allow him to pat you like a dog. It felt a bit demeaning in a way, but also strangely comforting, and it reminded you of one of the friendliest residents of the other world you had met. 

Your eyes flutter shut almost out of habit, allowing the man in front of you to enjoy the rare moment with you. His hands started out resting against the top and sides of your head, the movement of palms against your hair causing it to become messy and sticking up because of the static he created. 

Then, they tentatively travel to your face, cupping your cheeks before he brushes his thumbs underneath your eyes. You jolt a bit when his cold hand brushes against your neck, swallowing harshly when you feel him trace a finger down your SCM. Your breathing hitches while he explores your skin, and your teeth dig harshly into your bottom lip in response. 

Then, you feel his touch pause, and Mr. Scarletella whispers against your neck, the pad of his thumb swiping against your lips, “...blood.” 

“Oh, uh…” You open your eyes and look at him, seeing the way he’s staring up at you while his face remains close to your jugular. Your hand goes up to your lips, and you wince when you feel the soreness. When you pull your fingers away from your mouth, you see the blood that clings to them. Geez, you didn’t think you had bit your lip that hard. 

You tell Mr. Scarletella, patting his head much like how he had been doing with you, “I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

He smiles widely and lights up at your words. Suddenly, he grabs your face and hastily presses his lips to yours. Your eyes grow at the sudden act, and a strangled noise leaves your throat. It wasn’t a bad noise, per se, you just hadn’t been expecting that from him. Typically, he waited until you permitted him to do that... He must have been too excited to hold back this time around.

You were speechless when he pulled away from you, noticing your blood that was now smeared across his lips. He licks it away, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips before he asks you, “...You happy?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, reaching up to place your hand on his head while your giggles echo throughout the empty hallways, patting him softly. Mr. Scarletella’s smile falters while he focuses on the feeling of your touch, on burning the memory of your expression and the sweet sound of your laughter into his mind. It made him feel strange knowing he was the one making you react in such a way, but it was good.

He wanted to do it more. 

“Yes, I happy. You cute.” You reply, smiling warmly at him while he stares at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“I like you.” He says, sounding almost breathless as his body hunches over more, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck while his hands explore the rest of your body, stroking and touching and petting you. Mr. Scarletella didn’t want this moment to end. 

You chuckle as his breath fans against your skin, telling him gently as you feel his fingers work out any knots in your hair, “I know.” 

“I like you, I like you, I like you…” He murmurs against your flesh, “I love you.”

[luvlloyd]

🌿 | 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔: drabbles

╰┈➤ how would the ninjas react to you telling them that you love them for the first time?

🍃 WARNINGS: fluff, sarcasm, minor wound (Jay), mentions of cursing and self doubt (Kai), nightmares (Lloyd)

🌳 CHARACTERS INCLUDED: Cole, Jay, Kai, Lloyd, Nya, Zane (separately), x (gender neutral) reader

🌴 AUTHORS NOTE: tehe first writing post, hi buddies!! :) A bit of OOC Nya but I still think what I wrote for her was too cute to change <3

˗ˏˋ〘 𝓒𝐎𝐋𝐄 〙ˎˊ˗

"Cole… That’s too much sugar-" You interjected, grasping your boyfriend’s arm before he could empty the sugar into the mixing bowl.

“Oh.. my bad, (Name)." Cole chuckled sheepishly, his smile betraying his embarrassment as he glanced at you, “Sorry,” He added.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you aided him in adjusting the sugar amount, "No wonder you’re a sucky chef, Cole," you teased, prompting a scoff from him.

“Me? A sucky chef, please!" He exaggerated the ‘please,’ earning a knowing look from you.

“What? Did you know I’m secretly Gordon Ramsey’s love child?" He grinned.

“In your dreams you probably are," you laughed, causing his face to drop in mock disbelief.

“How dare you? Take this." Cole took the flour that was laying on the counter, grabbed some from the packet and tossed it into your face.

“Cole..! Stop!" You squealed, shielding your face with your arms.

“Nuh uh, you are going to face my flour wrath, (Name)!" He persisted, continuing to shower you with flour until you managed to wrestle the packet from him. Soon, both of you were engaged in a flour war, filling the kitchen with laughter.

Eventually, his arms found their way around your hips, pulling you close as you leaned against his chest, both of you still giggling,

"Cole, I love you so much," you said playfully, feeling him freeze at your words. His pause prompted you to furrow your eyebrows and stare up at him. Cole gazed at you with eyes filled with passion and adoration before he leaned in to peck your lips,

“I love you too, (Name)."

He kissed you again, and again and again. Until you both were just contently sitting in each other’s arms, embraced within the euphoria.

Unfortunately for the two of you, the euphoria was to be put on hold—You both had a bit of some cleaning up to do…

˗ˏˋ〘 𝓙𝐀𝐘 〙ˎˊ˗

The brown haired boy seemed to be bubbling with anxiety, fidgeting with his fingers as he kicked his feet against the medical bed. You grabbed the first aid kit, placing it beside him with a huff, meeting Jay's eyes.

“Do we really have to do this?" he whined, but you reassured him with a smile.

“Of course, dear. We don't want your boo-boo to worsen, do we?" His ears turned pink at your pet name as you dabbed antiseptic on a cloth.

“It's just a cut, (Name)! I don't want to go through all this," Jay pleaded as you brought the cloth closer to him. You looked at him sympathetically,

“Exactly, it's just a cut, so why are you so scared?" You paused, a playful glint in your eye, "Aren't you supposed to be my brave boyfriend?" Jay's expression softened, a grin spreading across his face,

“You're right! I am your brave boyfriend!" he proclaimed proudly. You grinned as you brought the cloth to his cheek.

He winced softly at the burning sensation before the feeling got replaced with your delicate fingers. You applied a Thomas the Train band-aid to his cut and swiftly placed a small kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek, “There you go, your boo-boo is all better now,”

“Thanks doc,” Jay said, his smile cheesy and so incredibly contagious that it brought a smile to your own lips. His bright brown eyes staring into yours as though you were a delicately painted painting, simply a work of art for him to stare at. You cusp his cheek as you both continue staring at each other, you caressed his soft yet warm skin under your fingertips,

“I love you, Jay," you spoke softly. He grinned cheekily, his cheeks lightly dusted pink at your words.

"Well, I love you more!" he retorted playfully.

“No, I love you more," you countered.

“Nope! I love you the most mostful and mostest!" he declared, pulling you into a tight hug and nuzzling his head into your neck. As you let out a small giggle he whispered into your ear,

“I love you, (Name), forever."

˗ˏˋ〘 𝓚𝐀𝐈 〙ˎˊ˗

After enduring the agonizing training, you found yourself sprawled on the floor, Kai, your boyfriend of two months, grinning down at you, his weapon by his side.

His sweat-dampened hairs framed his face as he leaned closer to tease you, but suddenly, his playful smirk fell. He tumbled forward, landing directly on top of you. He muttered a curse as his eyes locked with yours, and your breath hitched. You both were merely centimeters between each other and in that moment, you swore the world seemed to stand still.

"Hey, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice soft and gentle, “Seems like I fell for you,”

"Hi Kai," you snickered, finding his attempt at being flirty endearing. "Seems like I caught you."

"Sorry about that," Kai chuckled, rolling off to lie beside you on the dojo floor. Together, you gazed up at the ceiling, embracing the silence in the room, until you couldn't resist stealing a glance at his side profile. Holding back the urge to caress his face, you traced the features with your eyes. You met his gaze as his smirked, his eyes staring into yours knowingly.

He wiggled his eyebrows playfully as he teased you, "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

"I love it," you whispered sweetly, brushing a strand of his hair before meeting his eyes again. "I love all of you."

Kai froze, his confident demeanor crumbling as a blush painted his cheeks. His face turning as bright as his gi. His face faltering into a slight frown.

“You don't mean that," his voice dropped low into a whisper, insecurity lacing his words. You could tell he was feeling incredibly vulnerable.

"Of course I do," you promised him, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you stare into his crestfallen eyes, “I love you Kai.”

He stared into your face, trying to decipher if you were truly being genuine with him. His face brightened up as he realized you were. A sly grin returned to Kai's face, but his eyes held a warmth that made your body melt. He grabbed your hand from your side and put it up to his lips,

“I love you too, sweetheart."

˗ˏˋ〘 𝓛𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 〙ˎˊ˗

Lloyd woke abruptly, his body drenched in sweat, heart pounding against his chest as his nightmare caught up to him. They���ve begun appearing more frequently the last couple of years… His eyes darted anxiously around the room, paranoia lingering in his gaze.

“Lloyd?” You whispered, concern lacing your voice, you could barely see him though the darkness.

"Sorry for waking you, darling," he murmured back, his voice quivering. Sitting up, you touch his trembling arm softly,

“Another bad dream?” you asked. The boy didn’t vocalize his thoughts but instead turned to you to nod his head at you like a sad puppy.

"You're okay, Lloyd," you reassured him soothingly, you brushed a strand of his sweat drenched hair away from his troubled face.

“You’re okay,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around him. You felt him crumble beneath your touch, he sunk into your chest as he stared into your eyes. Searching them for reassurance. You begun playing with his blonde locks, a soft hum escaping your lips. You stole a glance at him. The moonlight cast a gentle glow upon his face, revealing the subtle contours of his gentle features. His eyes closed, his breath steadying into a rhythmic pattern,

"Lloyd?" you whispered, uncertainty lacing your voice. There was no response, only the soft sound of his breathing filling the room. Did he already fall back to sleep? You paused, carefully staring down at his face,

“Well, good night Lloyd... I love you," you murmured softly, turning your gaze towards the window.

Unseen by you, a small smile graced his lips, a ghost of a whisper that you unfortunately didn’t pick up,

“I love you too,”

˗ˏˋ〘 𝓝𝐘𝐀 〙ˎˊ˗

You sighed softly as you slipped into your gi, the weight of your mission pressing against your shoulders even before the sun had fully risen. With your weapon at your side, you gazed out at the horizon, thinking about the mission you had to do. It was a task that demanded your immediate attention, one that couldn't wait for the rest of the ninja to stir from their slumber.

As you prepared to summon your elemental dragon, a familiar voice yelled out to you,

"(Name)! Wait!" Your girlfriend, Nya, still in her Spiderman pajamas, dashed towards you with urgency in her step,

“Nya? What’s wrong?" you asked, concern knitting your brow.

"Nothing! I just wanted to say goodbye to you before you left," she replied, quickly kissing you on the cheek. A warmth spread through you at her touch, a feeling of comfort and belonging that only she could ignite.

"Bye (Name)," she said, her smile gentle, but then she hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features.

“What’s up?” you prompted, curious about the sudden change in her facial expression.

With a sheepish grin, Nya shook her head and presented you with a basket of food. "I um... I also wanted to give you this basket of food. I didn’t want you to be hungry while on your mission, so take it as your breakfast... I mean it’s obviously not going to be as great as Zane’s cooking, I’m sure—"

You interrupted her rambling by accepting the basket with gratitude, your heart swelling with affection for her thoughtful gesture,

“Thank you, Nya,” You stared into her eyes in adoration. Sincerity seeping through your words.

"Of course! Stay safe, (Name)!" Nya beamed, her happiness contagious as she pulled you into a quick one-armed hug.

"Bye Nya, love you," you said absentmindedly, your focus already shifting towards the task at hand as you climbed onto your dragon's back. You weren’t paying attention to her flustered behavior.

You soared into the sky, leaving Nya behind on the ground. Little did you know, as you flew off into the distance, Nya was left beaming with joy, her heart bursting with the simple words you had spoken.

"I love you too, (Name)!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with happiness as she watched you disappear into the horizon.

With a gleeful bounce, she couldn't contain her excitement any longer. "THEY SAID THEY LOVE ME—“ She quickly scowled to herself,

“Control yourself, Nya, but still!! They said they loved me!!" she squealed, her laughter echoing in the quiet morning air. Most likely awaking most of the Monastery.

˗ˏˋ〘 𝓩𝐀𝐍𝐄 〙ˎˊ˗

You sighed in frustration, your forehead meeting the cool surface of your desk with a dull thud. The blinking cursor on your computer screen taunted you as you tried to summon the words for your research paper. Procrastination had led you to this point, with the deadline looming close.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely registered the muffled noise at your door until it creaked open, revealing the analytical gaze of the ice ninja, Zane,

"Forgive me for interrupting, but I heard sounds of frustration and thought I would offer my assistance," he said, his voice calm and measured.

You managed a weak smile at his considerate gesture. "It's not a problem, I've just hit a roadblock," you admitted, gesturing helplessly towards the computer screen.

"I see no genuine roadblock, do you perhaps mean that figuratively?" Zane inquired, his literal interpretation of your words drawing a chuckle from you. As he approached your desk and effortlessly began typing away at the keyboard, you watched in awe as he swiftly completed the research paper that had been taunting you for hours,

"I believe this should suffice in terms of information. All that's left is to write your conclusion," he remarked, turning towards you with a straightforward expression.

You were dumbfounded by his efficiency, unable to believe he had solved your problem in mere minutes,

“You didn't have to do that!" you exclaimed, your gratitude tinged with surprise.

"I was simply assisting you," Zane replied, his tone neutral, mistaking your reaction for displeasure. You rose from your seat suddenly and enveloped him in a grateful hug,

"Thank you, Zane. I love you," you murmured against his shoulder.

For a moment, there was silence as Zane processed your words, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he brought his arms back up to exchange the hug,

"(Name), you are the optimal configuration for my circuits, the irreplaceable code for my function. To put it in simpler terms, I love you too," he finally responded, his words tinged with a hint of warmth that belied his nindroid nature.

TAGLIST: n/a if interested in getting tag for when I post a specific character lmk!!

©LUVLLOYD | please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work anywhere without my consent.

Thank you for reading! If you like or reblog or even decide to follow me, thank you sm! And if you don’t do any of those things, it’s all good! You spending your time to read this makes my day better nonetheless, so have a good one and drink lots of water and just know that I love you! (and so do these lego characters)

[selfishdoll]

❛you gonna eat me out?❜ ━━ ft. geto suguru, gojo satoru, nanami kento, & kamo choso.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 SUMMARY. ━━ the silly tiktok trend i be seeing. woman pays & asks if she’s getting ate out tonight 💀

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING. ━━ mature & sexual content (obvi), ooc!characters, & minor voyuerism in geto’s.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 NOTE. ━━ a quick & stupid drabble i made during work. i don’t know if this needs to be said, but reader would have paid either way 😭. lowercase intended & please excuse typos or grammar mistakes <3

GETO SUGURU ✶ ˖ ›

the two of you had finally found some time for a date; both off work, the girls spending the night at their favorite uncle’s place.. you decided to treat your loving partner to a cute little wine and dine, something geto deeply appreciated.

the night went by smoothly, chatter and flirting illuminating the scene; all while the delicious food and wine filled your stomachs.

now it was time to pay, you reaching into your purse after assuring the check looked right. hand clasping the card, you blinked for a second before a little smile crossed your features.

you rose, looking at geto who was currently busy scrolling on his phone, waiting on you. “suguru.” you called out, his dark eyes instantly flicking to you. you tapped the card against the table, pretty smirk stretched across sparkly glossed lips. “you eating me out tonight?” your eyebrows rose as the question exited your lips, spotting a reddish hue form across his cheeks.

your question had taken him by surprise, clearly, the man setting his phone down for a moment. finally suguru chuckled a little, back straightening in his seat. “if you don’t want me to do it here, i suggest you hurry up and pay.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, tapping your card against the machine— watching as it swirled before confirming your payment. you jumped from your seat whilst grabbing your things, suguru following close behind you.

you gave the staff quick goodbyes and thank yous, rushing towards your car.

unfortunately you weren’t quick enough, given he was already pushing you away from the passenger to the back seat, ignoring your soft protests.

you had paid for your meal at about 8:30 and you didn’t leave the restaurant parking lot until 10:00.

GOJO SATORU ✶ ˖ ›

there were few times gojo ever let you pay for anything, especially on date nights. he likes to spoil you and will protest if you even mention paying for yourself or him. tonight was different, you were adamant on paying for dinner and was not taking no for an answer.

he was stubborn, but you were much worse.

after the enjoyable night of his witty jokes and swatting his wandering hand under the table, it was time to pay. gojo was currently glancing over the dessert menu while you were busy grabbing your card from your purse.

whilst searching for it, the words slipped out your lips as smooth as honey.

“you eating me out tonight?”

without missing a beat, the man answered matter of factly; “well, i do need a dessert.”

the words had you stammering, suddenly clammy hand finally gripping the card and turning to spot the man grinning at you. of course when you try to fluster him, he’s turning the tables on you.

“i hate you.” you spoke softly, tapping your card and placing it away once the payment was confirmed. satoru jumped up first, waiting patiently for you to grab your purse.

“no you don’t.”

NANAMI KENTO ✶ ˖ ›

date nights were far inbetween given your work schedules were always so different. on the days you had off he was working, and on the days you worked, he was off. it was a mess but there are times you made it work.

like today. nanami was adamant on going to dinner with you, despite how tired he was. you felt a little bad watching him push himself but he only mumbled about being fine, and he wants to spend time with you.

the only plus side to times like this was he wasn’t as resistant as he usually was when it came to you paying for him.

you talked to kento inbetween grabbing your card from your bag, the man giving a few gruff hums and chuckles. as tired as he was, he wanted you to know he was still listening. pressing the card against the machine, you perked up and glanced at him. his eyes were closed, arms crossed while listening to you. you gave a small smile, letting the fated words spill from your mouth;

“you eating me out tonight, kento?”

“yes ma’am.”

you blinked wildly at this, tucking the card back into your purse. “did you hear what i said?”

kento nodded, closed eyes opening to look at you. “i did. come on.” he hummed, rising from his chair— you following close behind. his hand found the small of your back, leading you out of the restaurant — stopping to say thank you and goodbye to the waiters — and to the car.

the ride back home was calm and silent, on kento’s part, given your little heart was pounding against your chest.

needless to say, no matter how tired kento is.. he keeps his word.

KAMO CHOSO ✶ ˖ ›

choso pretends he doesn’t mind you paying for things, but will definitely nudge your hand away when you try to do so. fortunately he allowed you to pay, reluctantly, of course.

you smiled at the man as his lips clasped around the spoon you held, enjoying the ice cream as it melted in his mouth. pulling your hand back, you placed the spoon down and reached for the little machine parked at the end of your table.

nodding to yourself after looking over the check, you reached for your card, choso resting against the chair with a soft hum; patiently waiting.

whilst grabbing the card the little idea popped into your mind, turning to your boyfriend with a delicious smile. one he rose an eyebrow at.

“you eating me out tonight?”

this only furthered his confusion, covered arms crossed across his chest. “don’t i always?” he spoke in a mumble, wondering if you had some sort of brain damage.

“well yeah, i was ju—“

“i get it.” choso interrupted before you could finish, raising from the booth once you were done paying. “guess i fucked you too dumb earlier. don’t worry, i’ll just have you come on my tongue as many times as it takes to jog your memory.”

needless to say, choso got his fill and then some.

reblogs & comments are welcomed & appreciated <3

[seelie-buddy]

Shower me with your love

summary : wriothesley loves playing with your puppy, but you can't help feeling a tinge of jealousy at the affection he showers the little furball with

contains : a puppy!! ; slight, very tiny bit of jealousy ; pre-established relationship ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person

word count : 578

The skip in your steps was proof enough of the excitement bubbling within you as you headed to welcome in your visitor.

The moment the door is open enough, you barely register the blur of black before the barking of your puppy echoes along with Wriothesley's chuckles.

It was a sight, truly. The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide— who appears big and brutish at first glance— knelt down, petting the pup with a huge, almost childlike, grin.

Wriothesley was unlike your first impression of him; now that you knew him, you could even say that you found his certain habits and quirks to be cute.

Watching him play with the little one, you couldn't help but think back fondly on the time you spent with him: how he let you lounge in his office, napping or reading whilst he did his work, the two of you simply basking in each other's presence.

How he took care of you when you had caught a fever; gently helping you with your meals, reminding you to take your medicines, and having Sigewinne look after you when he couldn't (plus the way he kept Sigewinne's milkshakes away from you, much to the melusine's disapproval).

Or how he mentioned in passing that he wished he could have a pet to care for; you could hardly let go of the idea, one of the main reasons you adopted the puppy which now hopped over Wriothesley's feet, eliciting chuckles of pure adoration from him.

You were beyond thankful to have him in your life.

But... you couldn't help but notice that the little pup monopolized his attention. And while you had no objections about your dearest Duke playing with the pup, a part of you wished for more time with him; his duties kept him away, and you couldn't help the selfish thought of wanting more of his attention.

Perhaps you stared too long, long enough for Wriothesley to notice, and when his eyes turned to you, it felt like soft blue orbs saw right through you.

Embarrassment clawed at your cheeks as you turned away from him, rationality wiping away your previous thoughts.

"Someone's feeling bitter," he joked, and you could feel the playful smirk that lingered on his lips.

"Shut up," you mumbled, keeping your gaze away from him even as he got up to approach you.

His laughter was music to your ears, your heart leaping as he wraps his arms around you in a warm hug.

"There," he says, the mirth in his voice palpable, "happy now?"

You couldn't reply, not when you were embarrassed enough.

"Not enough?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow at you as he pulled away slightly. And oh the mischievous glint in his eyes was dreadful.

You couldn't even protest as he launched his 'attack' of soft kisses all over your face, from the corner of your lips, to the tip of your nose, and the apple of your cheek.

And perhaps it was his soft touch that felt ticklish, but you couldn't stop the laughter rising from your throat.

And once Wriothesley deemed you to be content, he was grinning just as brightly as you likely were.

"There," he says, his eyes crinkling from his smile. "A smile looks better on you."

Oh, if you received such attention every time, then perhaps you might not mind having the furball of energy that was your puppy snatching away his attention from time to time.

a/n : I was browsing through wriothesley's character story + dialogues; this one voiceline– titled 'chat: pets', it stuck in my mind, and later I saw some fanart about him being flocked with puppies, the idea just came to me when I saw it

p/s : ah and this is one of my first attempts at writing for Wriothesley, I fear it might be ooc... maybe?

[luv4fushi]

HEYYY🦅

I really likes your megumi drabble. HE SO CUTE😭😭 i kinda wish you write more megumi 🩷

megumi fluff (?) and angst at your service! sorry it took FOREVER i had 478274 exams these past few weeks ughhh sorry & ily thx for the req ~~~

he likes me, he likes me not

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

all megumi fushiguro does is apologize when he rejects you. everything changes because of your confession.

content: angst, fluff if you squint, all characters aged up to 17-18!!!, misunderstandings, confessions, eventual relationship!, megumi is so bad at feelings, ooc megumi a little sorry, takes place at jujutsu tech high school and shibuya has NEVER happened so life is good, yuji and nobara are your besties

wc: 5.1k

click on my masterlist for more!

“i like you.”

for a moment, the world stills. everything comes to a halt.

megumi is sitting across from you at your favorite cafe, just down the street from tokyo jujutsu high, the school you’ve been attending for nearly two years now.

in that short amount of time, you’ve grown into a person you think the past you would’ve liked. you’re taller now, more fit and lean. you’ve got bounds of experience from your missions piled on your shoulders, the unwavering burden of being a jujutsu sorcerer making itself at home.

you’ve grown in other ways, too. you’re stronger now, you’ve got a good hold on your emotions. you haven’t seen your parents in months, but the sting doesn’t hurt anymore. you’re wiser. older. you’ve got a handle on your feelings.

then there’s megumi fushiguro.

oh, how enamored you’d been.

he’d spared no glance when he first met you. you had trudged into the classroom, eyes darting at the unfamiliar faces. gojo satoru, the undeniably handsome teacher of yours, introduced you brightly albeit the low energy of the room.

you had weaved your way into the jujutsu world, just as you had been able to slither your way into the lives of your newfound friends.

but megumi, oh, megumi fushiguro.

it had taken you laborious months to befriend the raven haired boy. his uninviting attitude hindered your relationship with him for some time, and you had half-heartedly decided to pursue something else, but your near death experience during a particularly difficult mission with him had sent him reeling. he had held onto you the entire time you cried for your mother.

you don’t talk about that day. he doesn’t mention it, either.

“what?” his eyes, dark blue, blink in surprise. his lips are parted slightly. “what did you say?”

your throat constricts. then, the words flow: “i’m in love with you.”

love. it’s too strong of a word. you’re not even quite sure what it means, or if what you feel is actually love.

the cafe begins to bustle with life again. the barista from behind the counter steams some milk—almond—and she glances up at a customer approaching. the music from the overhead speakers filters it’s way softly into your ears. it’s a cheesy love song, and you can’t help but feel like it isn’t the right time for that.

“are you serious?” he says, almost spitting out his drink.

“i mean,” you shrug, “yeah? i wouldn’t bring you all the way out here to fuck with you.”

he blinks again. his lashes flutter perfectly. it’s annoying how perfect he is. there’s a slight hue of pink to his cheeks, but not enough to confirm anything—just speculation.

“i’m sorry,” he begins, breathing it out all in one go. “i’m really sorry.”

if you’re being honest with yourself, you’d seen it coming from a mile away; megumi fushiguro is different. he’s got the composure of a brick wall. the perpetual frown on his face never, ever leaves, not even when he’s with you. he doesn’t crack, doesn’t shake. his soul is hardened from things that he’ll never speak of with you.

“it’s okay,” you say, but it’s not.

you’ve changed—grown into a person you’re proud of, but you’re still stuck sometimes. you’re still a pushover. still just a small shrimp in the vast ocean. still apologizing for your existence.

“i’m sorry,” megumi repeats.

you know he’s apologetic, that he really means it, just from the way his brows furrow slightly. you know him too well for your own good. you don’t think he can say the same about you.

“it’s fine.” your voice breaks. you duck your head in embarrassment. rejection has never hurt you this badly. “you don’t have to apologize for not liking me back. it’s not your fault.”

you wonder why you’re comforting him when he’s the one who has ripped your heart out completely.

“i’m gonna head back,” he mumbles out, hesitating to reach out and dab away your tears with the napkin he’s been wringing around his thin fingers. “you… should come, too.”

you shake your head. “i think i’m gonna finish my coffee.”

he offers a smile. “you can finish mine as well, if you’d like.”

“nah,” you say, scrunching your nose through watery eyes, “black coffee isn’t really my thing.”

“yeah.” his laugh is soft, almost forced, but you can tell it’s genuine. “i know.”

oh, you think. it really hurts.

he knows.

something inside you snaps. your lungs feel itchy. your ribs squeeze. you think that it would’ve been easier to never say anything at all.

megumi leaves the store. the jingle of the bell above the frame rings through the air. you’re left with your cold cup of coffee and megumi’s cup across from you.

the barista gives you a look of pity. you chug down your drink and chug his, too.

it’s bitter.

-☆

megumi arrives to his dorm exactly five minutes after four pm. he slips off his sweater and changes into a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. his mind is blank, except for the image of your teary eyes.

he swallows nervously. maybe he’ll sleep it off.

“yo, megumi.” yuji slams himself against the door impatiently. “how’d it go?”

megumi sighs, the irritation swiftly making its way into his fatigued body. he opens the door and yuji tumbles in without an invitation.

“what are you talking about?” megumi mutters with another sigh.

“the confession,” yuji says matter-of-factly.

megumi stares. “you knew?”

yuji’s smile slowly removes itself from his lips. “…yeah? it was pretty obvious.”

“what was obvious?”

“that she likes you…?” yuji tilts his head. “and you like her back, right? so i figured you guys would be all cuddled up in here.”

megumi doesn’t say anything. the gears in yuji’s head begin to turn as he looks around the room, noticing the comfy attire megumi has on.

“you said that you liked her back… right?” he raises an eyebrow. “because it’s not a secret that you do.”

“i left.”

“you left her there?!”

“i didn’t know what else to do.”

“so you said ‘yes, i’d like to be your boyfriend’ and then dipped out on her?”

“i didn’t say yes.”

yuji pauses. he looks at megumi, then at the made bed, then back at megumi.

“for fuck’s sake,” he groans, running his hands through his pink hair. “i’m gonna go.”

megumi stands there, appalled. the door is shut harshly and the hinges squeak. he’ll have to scold yuji about that later. for now, he wants to take a nap.

maybe he’ll feel better about everything when he wakes up.

-☆

on the other side of the building reserved for dorms, yuji crosses his way into the girls’ section. it still feels wrong no matter how many times he’s made this trip before.

he meets you on the way there. you’re dragging your feet, headphones strapped on your head, and lips quivering.

“hey,” he calls out, tapping your shoulder. “you okay?”

he waits until you hang the silver headphones on your neck. they’re megumi’s, he realizes as he sees the fading stickers on the metal plate.

“hm?”

“you okay?” he asks again. his eyes scan you for any signs of distress, and he can practically see it radiating off of you.

“yeah,” you hum, “i’m cool.”

“want me to grab nobara?” he suggests with a grin.

“sure,” you say.

the sun feels hot on your back. you hate the way the school is so widespread for having such a small population.

“i can grab some ice cream,” yuji rambles. “and i’ll get us a notebook so we can write shitty things about megumi.”

you pat him on his back, but his sturdy body almost sends you flying backwards. he catches your wrist just before you fall, and he’s laughing at your expression with glee.

“you’re so funny,” he says through his fit of laughter. “you’ve gotten scrawnier. you needa eat more! i’ll get us snacks, too.”

you pout. “shut up, yuji. not everyone can be as buff as you and todo.”

“oh, todo is a whole different story.”

“tell me about it,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes. “i’ve seen him beat you up into a pulp.”

“hey! in my defense,” yuji says, his hands coming up to the sides of his ears, “i couldn’t do much against him!”

you’re nearing nobara’s dorm, which is right across from your own. you like how homey hers is compared to yours. she’s got a knack for interior design, or so she claims.

she swings the door open the moment you reach the inside of the building. you’re halfway down the hall when she sticks her head out from the frame of her room. her black roots are showing more than usual.

“how was it?” she asks once you’re close enough so that she can whisper.

you want to tell her that there’s no point in keeping it a secret. you had told yuji about your feelings far before you even mentioned to her, mainly because yuji had been your first friend at jujutsu high. megumi isn’t here, either, so there’s no reason to whisper when everyone knows.

“bad,” is all you reply with.

her eyes soften a considerable amount, an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. she takes a small breath and pulls you into her room by your arm.

you’re met with her fragrances, vanilla and strawberry—a nobara kugisaki signature scent. she had begged gojo to buy her shelves to place her k-pop albums on and sure enough, the white furniture stands proud at the far corner of the room. there are fake vines hanging from her ceiling right above her desk, where she has an organizer messily places over a few books.

“you wanna dye your hair?” she jokes, looking back at you. “my roots are coming in so we might as well dye yours while we touch up mine.”

“is orange all you have?” yuji’s nose twitches. “i don’t think she’d look good in orange.”

“gee, thanks,” you sarcastically respond.

“sorry.”

nobara clicks her tongue. “wanna unpack?”

“kinda,” you say, your body going limp once you’re at the foot of her bed. you sprawl yourself on the silky sheets and stare up at the ceiling.

“get out, yuji,” nobara demands. she doesn’t even acknowledge his downturned lips.

“i know everything already!” he whines. he shuts the door behind him with much more care than he had with megumi’s.

“still!” she insists. “i wanna have a girls’ talk.”

“i’m one of the girls.” he crosses his arms.

nobara’s shoulders sag. “fine, but you need to go buy ice cream.”

“was planning on that already,” yuji replies. he taps quickly at his phone, presumably asking gojo for his credit card.

when yuji leaves the room, he promises that he’ll get your favorite flavor. once nobara senses that his presence is completely gone, she turns to look at you.

“i’m sorry for making you confess,” she whispers. her tone is comforting, genuine, soft. she takes you into her arms and squeezes your shoulders. “i really thought he liked you back.”

“it’s not your fault,” you reply earnestly. “i chose to do it out of my own selfish feelings.”

“you can cry,” she says, patting your head. at times like this, nobara seems years wiser than you are. her touch is warm.

you bite your lower lip. “don’t wanna. i think i’ll be fine.”

“okay,” she says, and you feel her chest vibrate with the word. “you’re allowed to cry, though. megumi would’ve been a shitty boyfriend, anyway.”

all you can do is let out a watery laugh. you don’t tell her that he would’ve been an amazing lover. he would’ve taken you out on dates at your favorite places because he’s observant like that. he would’ve known your favorite foods, though he knows them even as friends. he would’ve kissed you tenderly because that’s the type of boy he is. he’s the type to love carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll lose someone forever if he doesn’t.

“i’m up for dyeing your hair,” nobara pipes up after the silence that penetrates the room. “yuji’s right, though… i don’t think orange would suit you… ha.”

you giggle. “let’s just touch up yours, yeah?”

yuji’s footsteps can be heard from outside the door when you’re a third of the way done with nobara’s roots. she complains about how long he’d taken, but there’s no real malice in her voice. he explains that he had ran into trouble obtaining gojo’s card (“i had to beg him for it!”).

the ice cream is all melted. it’s gooey and delicious and makes you smile. as you look around your friends, your crinkled eyes say more words than you ever could.

“you’re welcome,” yuji says into your ear. “you don’t have to thank us for any of this.”

-☆

the next morning comes by quicker than you want it to. you mentally prepare yourself for seeing megumi in class at eight in the morning. you haven’t made a mistake as bad as confessing your dying, unrequited love on a wednesday afternoon quite like this before.

nobara had suggested walking with you the night before, but you’d sternly told her that you could handle it. looking back, maybe you should’ve agreed with her offer.

megumi isn’t in class when you come in. he’s usually there at least five minutes before gojo starts teaching. something inside you tells you it’s because of yesterday—as much as you hate to admit it.

he walks in through the sliding doors a few minutes late, but gojo pays him no attention. megumi has privileges like that—at least, with gojo. he’s practically your teacher’s son, and though you’ve never heard of the full story, you’re well aware of gojo’s slight favoritism.

the class is short. all jujutsu sorcery classes are. they mainly consist of typical real school lessons, only because under the law, jujutsu tech is still a high school. the other, much bigger portion of class with gojo is focused on maintaining cursed energy and providing yourself with the best possible victory in battle.

when it’s over, you don’t know if you should be relieved or upset. you won’t be able to see megumi after this, assuming that he’ll avoid you for a good month or two. however, you think you’d rather die than attempt to make conversation with him.

“don’t do anything stupid,” gojo warns, signaling the end of class.

you hear yuji snicker quietly and say, “yeah, nobara.”

the bickering brings a smile to your lips. from the corner of your eye, megumi shifts in his seat.

you decide that it’s best to let the feelings marinate, as stupid as it sounds. it’s an infinitely better choice than moping around and begging megumi for a chance. you may be soft, but you’ve got pride.

“see you guys,” you announce, more to yourself than to anyone.

“alright,” yuji calls after you, “see you later.”

you can’t help but feel a little disappointed with the lack of clinging when it comes to you. your absence doesn’t seem to cause a ruckus like it does for most people. you wonder if it had been yuji retiring early; would everyone else ask him to stay a minute longer?

that’s how life is for a while.

you attend class, spar a little, and sleep. some days you go out into the city with nobara. you avoid the cafe, even though it’s your favorite. perhaps it’s because you’re still embarrassed by megumi’s rejection. on other, slower days, gojo takes you all on outings because he’s basically everyone’s replacement father.

it’s still as tense as ever between you and megumi.

the boy doesn’t make any effort to reach out. you don’t blame him, though you should. he steals small glances at you, particularly when you’re smiling and forget to cover your teeth with your hands. that’s all he takes from you, and he can’t be the only guilty one, because that’s all you give.

on this day, gojo takes you all out to the fair. it’s annual, taking place in the beginning of summer, and it’s a great way to practice forming barriers and such. the fairs always bring out a few nasty curses that need to be exorcised—the four of you are already used to being dragged out here for that sole purpose.

as if gojo knows, he sends you out in pairs. of course, you’re paired with megumi fushiguro. at first, you open your mouth to reject gojo’s demand, but you notice the way megumi doesn’t seem to care and your resolve hardens.

“it’s really awkward around you guys.” gojo pretends to act busy, flicking something from his nails. he’s got his sunglasses on and the ladies around him fawn.

“huh?” you and megumi look at him with accusing glares.

“is something going on between the two of you?”

“no,” you say almost entirely too quickly.

“right,” he drawls, a smirk forming on his face. “anyway, good luck out there. get rid of the little ones and then—i don’t know/-meet up with yuji and nobara if there are gross ones that’ll kill you.”

megumi nods. “okay.”

“this was what i was talking about,” gojo mutters as he walks off. “it’s soooo awkward…”

megumi gives you an apologetic look. “for the record, i don’t think it’s awkward.”

“it’s fine,” you say. you find that you’ve been pardoning him quite a lot. “you don’t have to lie.”

his face flushes. “i’m not.”

“i confessed to you and you don’t like me back, so there’s really no need to tiptoe around it anymore,” you rush out. “just treat me like normal. i don’t really care.”

he looks hurt, and you want to laugh.

you discover that, in those days of being alone, you’d rather megumi treat you like a friend again than be completely ignored. at least then, you’d have a part of him. at least then, he’s not slipping through the cracks of your heart, becoming a distant memory.

you want him to be anything but a memory.

“you want me to treat you like normal…?” he repeats your words. he paces himself just a few steps behind you when you begin to walk away from the conversation. “what does that mean?”

“i think you know what being friends is like,” you attempt to joke, but it comes out harsher than intended.

the fair is getting more crowded by the second. the shopkeepers are yelling out cheap deals and there are children that snake in and out of the lines of people. paper lanterns are hung at the front of tents to attract foreigners—it seems to be working because there are more people surrounding shops with lanterns than without.

megumi takes a breath. “how could i do that?”

your steps falter. “what do you mean?”

“how can i go on to treat you like normal,” he says softly, “when i know you’re in love with me?”

you bite the inside of your cheek and taste blood. “i don’t know. you’ve done it before without knowing my feelings. you can do it all over again, right?”

you look over your shoulder to see his lips part. he’s given up on the cool-guy persona. his vulnerability begins to show through the dents in his personality.

“you’re saying that you’ve liked me for that long?”

“yeah,” you admit. something about this is more freeing than you could’ve imagine. “i think i always have.”

a man shoves himself into you. he’s older with a beer belly and a scruffy beard attached to his face. he barks at you to move out of the way as he drags his young daughter through the sea of people. megumi’s warm hands come to rest on your waist, pulling you aside and closer to his toned chest.

you do your best to ignore your beating heart.

“i’m not,” megumi starts shakily, “lovable. i don’t know why you like me.”

your body goes cold. it's even worse than when he'd rejected you.

“curse,” you say, detaching his hand from your body. “i feel it around the back alley.”

the night ends. nothing is solved. you go to bed and curl into yourself.

-☆

loving megumi is weird. there’s an odd sense of comfort to it, like you’ve known him for longer than you actually have. he makes you feel safe even though he's gruff and a little mean about it. maybe that's just part of his charm, though, because it makes you love him even more.

he seems to have taken your words seriously; he starts to treat you like normal again. he doesn't avoid you anymore, and the obvious tension surrounding you two has disappeared for now. he lets you take a few of his sweaters when you forget to do your laundry and he buys you your favorite snacks sometimes.

it gets to be too much. you almost wish he'd go back to ignoring you. the grass is always greener on the other side.

summer goes by slowly. it's the prime time for bad feelings to manifest into curses. you push away your lingering feelings, convincing yourself that you've gotten over it. it's been more than enough time now, coming up on two months since you've confessed. you don't want your resentment, if you can call it that, to form any bad curses—you'd hate for them to be attached to megumi. that'd be a burden too hard to carry.

a few missions involve partnering up with megumi. gojo thinks you two work well together; there's a sort of synergy that you have with each other that is hard to come by sorcerers nowadays. you don't mind the compliments, or at least you pretend you don't.

the missions aren't difficult, but maybe that's because you've grown stronger. megumi has, too.

summer passes. it still hurts.

"you're confusing me," you whisper.

you and megumi are shopping for a surprise birthday party that gojo is forcing you guys to throw for nanami kento, a good coworker of his. you've met him more than once, and you're not really sure if he'd appreciate such a last minute party. regardless, you and megumi are tasked with finding enough balloons to fill the poor man's office.

megumi doesn't allow you to hold any of the bags. he lies and tells you that it's out of habit—nobara makes him carry her shopping bags every time they go out—but you know he's doing it just because he wants to. you're perfectly strong enough to carry a few paper bags, and he doesn't carry nobara's bags like he claims he does. megumi doesn't even go shopping with her unless yuji's there and even then, yuji holds the bags.

"sorry?"

"why are you doing this?" you refuse to look at him.

"doing what?"

"this," you say, gesturing at the two of you. "why do you act like we're close enough to do this?"

you cringe at yourself, aware of how hypocritical you're being. you had wanted this, wanted him to go back to being a friend, to treat you like he had before you went and ruined everything. why are you angry? why do your eyes well up with tears as he steps closer to you?

"we aren't close?" he asks. his arms fall to his side.

passerbys give you curious glances. he takes off his sweater, the one he always wears depsite it being humid out, and wraps it around you. the paper bags filled with confetti and paper plates are set down by your feet. he pulls the hood over your head to hide your wet eyes.

"we are," you mumble out sorely, "but not like this."

"i'm sorry," he says, and you're brought all the way back to the day you had told him about just how much you liked him.

"'s not your fault." you sound like you're trying to convince yourself and not him. "i'm being an asshole. you can forget about this."

you don't want him to feel guilty. he can't help how he feels, after all. you don't want him forcing himself to love you.

"what you said that day," he coughs out. the bags crinkle as he lifts them from the pavement. he continues, "what did you mean by 'always'?"

you squeeze your eyes shut and he pauses next to you. you can feel his soft gaze on you and you're glad you can hide behind his sweater, the cloth draping over you like an oversized blanket.

"i don't know..." you tilt your head up to look at him. he looks like the boy you think you'll always love. "i think i was doomed from the start."

"doomed?" he says, a little amused. "loving me is dooming? how sweet of you."

you need to remind yourself that he's not playing with your heart; this is how he copes—and how you cope, too. he must know you better than you had thought.

you nearly scoff. "it's because you're you. you're so good at being you that it hurts."

megumi slows. you hadn’t even noticed that he'd been guiding you down the sidewalk the entire time until now.

"i think it applies to me, too," he say quietly.

"what?"

"'always' applies to me, too." the clarification does nothing to settle your nerves.

"i don't understand," you blurt.

he gives you a look, as if to say, "really?", but he keeps talking, "i think i'm used to this feeling because it's always been there."

"what feeling?"

he shrugs. "you pissed me off when i first met you. you're really stupid, you know?"

your face morphs into an irritated expression. "thanks. you're pretty great yourself."

he laughs and it sounds like music to your ears. "i wasn't finished, dummy."

"sorry."

"you're pretty... a lot more than you think you are," he admits shyly, "and i guess that annoyed me because i kept feeling all weird around you. i got used to it, i think—that weird feeling. but it's always been here. it never left."

you stumble, tripping over your feet at megumi's statment. you don't want to interpret it the wrong way, but with how he's looking at you, you can't help but maybe think that he likes you too.

"this isn't how i wanted to tell you, but," he breathes in sharply, "i don't like it when you cry."

it's awkward. perhaps a little funny, if you really look at it, but it's megumi and you can't hate him. you'll never find it in yourself to truly hate him.

nanami's surprise birthday party isn't much of a surprise. though gojo nor nanami say it, you all know yuji is a favorite of theirs, and no one is surprised when yuji says that he had accidentally revealed the party a few hours prior.

gojo has fun. even shoko, who never shows up to any of these events because of her busy schedule as a doctor, seems to enjoy herself. nanami pretends like he's not entertained, but he has on a fond smile that looks weirdly similar to the way megumi smiles. you're all old enough to party now, as gojo puts it, so it's a little less like a classroom celebration and more like a familial one.

it's the third of july, nearly two months and a half after your confession, when megumi hints that he feels the same way about you.

you don't know what to make of it.

-☆

"i like you."

you're in the middle of getting ready to go out with nobara and her favorite upperclassman, maki, when megumi tells you he likes you back. your eyes widen and the mascara you've just finished putting on smears on your lid.

megumi hands you a makeup wipe as if he's done it a million times before. (he hasn't, but he just knows.)

"w-what?" you stutter out, your breath catching in your throat.

"it took me a while to figure that out," he says.

he's flat on your bed, covering his face with his arm. his t-shirt rises with each of his nervous movements. according to the rules set by gojo, he shouldn't even be here in your dorm. he shouldn't be on your bed and listening to your playlist through your shitty speaker gifted to you by yuji.

"are you joking around?"

"what?" he sits up and turns to you, frowning. "why would you think that?"

"is this you pitying me?"

"i just," he sighs, frustrated, "i needed to tell you before i chickened out. i meant what i said the other day, you know?"

"about you getting 'used to' the strange feeling?"

he nods and then slouches back against your pillows. if it had been any other day, you would've felt shy about sleeping in his scent.

"yeah," he says, running his slender fingers through his jet black hair. "i really did mean it. i think i just—i don't know—pushed you away because i was afraid."

you've given up on applying your makeup by now. your hands are shaking too much, anyway.

"i'm scared sometimes, too," you reply, catching his eyes in the reflection of your vanity mirror.

you see the side of his lips turn upwards. he looks as handsome as ever. he's gotten older since the first time you met him, and it hits you harder now that he's on your bed, his features sharp and his body lanky and tall. there's a sort of intimacy that you sense between the two of you.

"i'm not afraid anymore." his legs swing over the bedframe and he easily reaches the ground even though your bed is raised. "i'll be brave for the both of us."

oh.

"what do you think?" he tilts his head.

you stay home that night.

-☆

"so are you guys dating now?" yuji exclaims.

you both freeze.

"fuck off," megumi says instead of answering the question.

"god," yuji huffs out. "finally! all those peptalks and you don't even tell me that you got the girl?"

megumi blushes from beside you. neither of you had expected yuji to be awake to witness you two watching the sunrise on the hill beside the school.

"you know," yuji grumbles, "it took a lot of convincing to have you realize that you've been in love this entire time, megumi. the least you could've done was tell me."

megumi ignores him and snuggles further into you.

"why are you up so early?" you ask, shuffling underneath the blanket that is covering you and your boyfriend.

"instinct." yuji's shoulders drop, defeated. "'k, i'm gonna leave you guys to be romantic and shit up here. have fun explaining this to nobara later."

nobara almost wrings your neck out when she catches megumi holding your hand that saturday morning. she tells him that he needs to make up for the months he left you feeling sad. he says he's already forgiven, and he's not wrong (because you're weak when it comes to him, just like he's weak when it comes to you).

you think that you would've chose to love him no matter the outcome. loving him is easy like that.

a/n: oh my god. this was a word dump and not proofread. i am so sorry this took forever to come out but i ended up changing the plot like a billion times cus it wasn't good enough.. LOL. hope u enjoyed this!!! thx for making me write more megumi because i love writing him (he's been my fave character since the anime came out three years ago hehehe). ngl it was kinda rushed bc i wanted to get this out but i think it turned out fine!!!! ok thx once again ily muah xx

[iid-smile]

hello! so, i don't know if you take requests, or write for blue lock in your blog, but if you do, may i request an interviewer!reader x the blue lock boys? the specific characters i want are: sae, rin, nagi, and kaiser. but feel free to add or remove characters as you'd like. but if you don't take requests and or don't write for blue lock, just tell me, no problem! thank you, and take care! also, i love your work!

crushing on the job

various blue lock boys x gn!interviewer!reader !

rin, sae, nagi, bachira, kunigami

author's note: this is a first because ive never thought id get a request for blue lock 😯 unfortunately, some sacrifices have been made since i don't read the manga, and kaiser has been eliminated... (im sorry i literally know nothing about him 😞) SO i added in bachira and kunigami in to make up for it

note: i wrote this as if they were normal footballers, so nothing from blue lock and whatever happens after is mentioned. the drabbles really very in length and definitely aren't equal.

synopsis: how they act when they fall in love with an interviewer at first sight. headcanons + drabbles!

itoshi rin I pre game interview

it's VERY obvious that he's caught something for you, because the way he looks at you is different to other interviewers

he's often at a loss for words and asks you to repeat your questions a lot. his head is in the clouds, and none of them get answered properly

he's overall a lot kinder and lighter with his words and ways of speech. his stance is much more relaxed than usual

the chances of either of you asking each other out are slim, so one of his teammates would do a bit of digging to get your contact info for him. if not, he'll be thinking about you nonstop and it messes up his performance

your feet move and twist around on the grass outside of camera view, as you stand beside one of the most skilled strikers in japan. the struggle of trying to put off this interview had to be abandoned at some point, and it's been months, yet it still feels too soon.

once the cameraman gives you a thumbs up, you take a deep breath and start to speak, completely forgetting to introduce yourself and the player. "so, what do you think the score will be in the end?"

rin just stares at you in the eye blankly, and it took you the small movement of turning the microphone towards him to snap him out of it. "huh?" his eyebrows raise a little.

you've seen how his other interviews have gone, and you were more than nervous to have your turn, fully expecting yourself to be belittled to some degree. but is it just you, or does he seem a bit... different? "t-the score? your predictions on the score?" you repeat, a small stutter in your voice and decreasing in volume as you go.

"uh..." he wipes his nose with his thumb and looks off to the side for a few seconds, before turning back to you again. "the score... yes." he answers mindlessly, nodding his head. it wasn't even a yes or no question...

in confusion, you blink, not even knowing how to respond. you were trying so hard to not let how uncomfortable you are shine through. you really have not a single clue what this man is thinking. "how are you feeling? about the upcoming match, i mean."

"a bit excited, i guess... i've been training." he looks at you and replies quietly before looking away again and scratching the back of his neck. "and other things..."

this is a first. anxiousness? rin always struck you as a confident man, or at least from what you've seen he is, so what does he have to be nervous about?

itoshi sae | meeting by chance (not)

(im sorry guys this may or may not be the most ooc and corny thing ever + im going off of the tiniest clips of him in the anime)

he just so happened to recognise you after a match

you interviewed every single player on his team except for him. coincidence? he thinks not. he's the best player, isn't he? why wouldn't you want to ask him anything?

for some reason, he finds it extremely entertaining when you're intimidated by him as a whole. he doesn't visibly show it though. you've got to have some confidence if you intentionally ignore THE itoshi sae

it's not that he's in love (probably in denial), but he's intrigued by you. he's a lot more pushy about things, but he doesn't mean to make it overwhelming. that's just his presence alone doing that

every interviewer out there knows how dry yet valuable sae's answers are. they ask the same questions, he gets the same answers, all the time. that's precisely why you don't want to interview him yourself. being shut down every time you try to question something is more embarrassing than people think, and you cringe just thinking about it.

so imagine your relief when you successfully get through an entire match without crossing paths with him. you would get to send in your notes, go home all happy and jolly, and sleep peacefully without a care in the world. but luck can only last so long.

you were just about to take a much needed bathroom break, but before you could turn a corner, there's a figure blocking your path. "you avoided me." it's itoshi sae in front of you.

your mind draws a blank. there's no one from your team within sight, or rather anyone in sight, and not even the comfort of your notebook could save you.

not only were you so confident in the fact that you wouldn't meet him that you hadn't written down any questions under his name, but you also told your team to wait in the car because you wouldn't take too long. "oh... i did?" a clear lie. "well, the producer and cameraman aren't here and stuff, so..." you attempt to get yourself out of situation, sheepishly at that.

his facial expression didn't change. he just continues to look down at you, and it was impossible to hold eye contact for more than a second. "unfortunate. because i want to hear what you have to say."

"i-it's nothing important, really... it's nothing you haven't heard before—"

he cuts you off. "i want to hear you say it."

something about the way he said it really freaks you out. conflict was running through your thoughts, your fingers twisting in the metal rings of your notebook. "okay... just a short one."

while your head was turned, you managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes squinting slightly, dare you say softening, and you pull out a pen from your pocket. "make sure you write down every word."

oh, you definitely were; with shaky hands. "will you say something different?" you ask. it was stupid, but still, you were eager to know.

for a beat, he stays silent, then tilting his head to the side. "...we'll see."

nagi seishiro I photobomber

this guy is in the background 24/7. he's honestly just a a bit lost and a curious little thing

he gets closer and closer until you finally interview him. at first he'll just be a blur, and he comes all the way up to behind you. he doesn't even mean to sneak up on you like that, he just wants to talk to you. his shadow would be so scary when he looms over you from behind

he's so weirdly energetic when he talks to you? not by a lot, but definitely more than when he normally speaks. he can actually be bothered to answer you properly, which is unexpected by many

he doesn't really flirt. if he does, it's unintentional. he's honest with his words and it kinda makes things awkward

"yes, thank you. i'm here at the saitama stadium to—" your eyes glanced down at the shadow on top of yours, growing larger and larger, and eventually overtaking the size of yours.

all of a sudden, there's a hand on your shoulder. "are you an interviewer?"

your head whips back and you take a step forward. you really shouldn't have been as surprised as you were, since you literally saw it coming. but you recognise this face. messy hair, much like a eskimo puppy, and dark eyes with permanent eyebags. nagi seishiro, who just happened to be a must have on your 'to interview list'.

"yes... yes, i am an interviewer."

nagi's hand remains on your shoulder, and he glances up at the camera in front of you. "is this on?" he points at it.

with a small glance at the device yourself, you nod. "mhm. and live." now that he's right here in front of you, you have to seize the opportunity. "since you're already here, would you like to...?"

lifting his hand, it's almost as if he took offence to the offer, his eyebrows furrowing. "who wouldn't want to with an interviewer as pretty as you?" he says, loud and clear.

you thought you were hearing things. him calling you pretty? that can't be real. "o-oh..." was the only thing you could say, a chuckle automatically leaving your mouth right after. it seems like he hadn't realised the effect of what he's said, moving on as if nothing happened.

bachira meguru I a silly pest

shameless and playful

the type of flirt that has you giggling and forgetting what you have to say because he's so smooth with it OR he's just so confusing that you accidentally agree to his advances

the type to say "this goal is for you" or "if i win this, you give me your number" and makes a promise to score as many times as possible

either he really embarrasses himself and you find his reaction cute, or he looks unexpectedly cool when he makes all of his shots like it's nothing

during one of his celebrations, he holds his hand up to his ear (🤙) so it's pretty much set in stone that you give him your number

you came prepared. interviewing a player very known for childish antics and trolling wasn't going to be easy, but you're always up for a challenge, especially when it'll reward you with some good material to work with. once the cameraman gives you the thumbs up, you finally start to speak. "are you disappointed that you haven't won an away games in a while?"

"hm..." bachira pouts, pretending to think as he rolls the ball beneath his foot. the entire time since the camera's been on him, he hasn't looked up from the ground. yet. "i'm more disappointed i haven't had the chance to meet you earlier. really had me missing out on life, you know?" he glances up at you as if that was the most normal thing to say, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips.

keep your cool, keep your cool. "how do you feel about being one of the youngest players on the team?" purposely, you don't expand on his answer, and move on to the next.

"i don't know. how old are you?"

as much as you'd like to entertain him, it wouldn't be appropriate. "too old for you." you reply, keeping your tone light with a chuckle.

"ah... you'll just have to wait for me then, huh?" oh. you don't think he was lying about that.

the smile and light atmosphere of the interview drops in an instant, replaced by a slightly stunned look that you know won't look good airing. how does he say these things with a straight face?

you quickly school your expression into a more neutral one. it's not like you can reprimand him on live tv, as much as you'd like to. "you don't think that's a little inappropriate?" you say.

bachira just shrugs, rolling a shoulder. "inappropriate is subjective." he doesn't give you a moment of rest, shifting his bodyweight to the other foot and continuing to toy with the ball. "can you ask me another question? this one is boring... actually, i'll ask you a question."

"oh god..." you mutter, your hand twitching and ready to facepalm.

"how about..." his eyes stare deep into yours, as if he was searching for something inside of them. "if i score a hat trick, i get your number."

your face scrunches up, since you thought he would take the hint already that you have to keep this professional. "that's a request." you correct.

"exactly."

"what?"

"so... number?"

"yes—" in that split second, your real personality slipped out, your brain subconsciously wanting to accept his offer. a brief moment later, the damage was already done, yet you were trying to fix it. "no! no!"

but he was already running off, a little skip in each step. "thank you~!" your manager won't be happy at all.

kunigami rensuke I press conference

probably wouldn't shoot his shot publicly/verbally, no pun intended. it's a respect sort of thing and a barrier between careers

might be ooc, but he really reminds me of this moment (i know its basketball, but still) are you seeing what im seeing?

accidentally threw his towel or water bottle at you at some point during his warmups, and then the sight of your pretty self was stamped into his brain

the clips would get really popular, and your company pretty much pressured you into going to his next game, and then the one after that, and the one after that...

even with all of the lights flashing in his eyes, kunigami could see you as if some sort of spotlight was on you, glancing around and hesitantly trying to find a moment to speak up. how could he not recognise you? you were that pretty interviewer that he threw his towel at by mistake. your face truly was unforgettable, and his first interaction with you happened to go like that.

usually, he would let thinks like this go, since it's not really something he needs to deal with, but he still feels like he owes you something. "hey, let them speak." he voices, firm and unyielding. anyone in their right mind wouldn't mess with a guy that clearly works out on a regular basis.

"so, you were saying?" he puts on his best smile, and you're so stunned by his kindness that you forget what you were going to say in the first place. luckily, you managed to put together some sort of random question that was good enough.

"ah, yes." you take a minute to look at your notes; they were completely blank. not very helpful... "you did really well during the game, but you didn't score as many goals as you did in your previous match. do you believe that you could have performed better, or are you satisfied with your results?"

he takes a second, and after a moment he responds. "well," his eyes gleam with pride. "i'm pretty satisfied with my performance. but i could do better, and i plan to in future matches as well."

and your little interest in passionate people ignites. "how do you do it? how do you keep improving, when you're already so good?"

he chuckles, slightly embarrassed by your compliment. "really, it isn't that amazing. i just love football, you know. i can't help but to always strive to do better. the people who are close to me motivate me a lot." a staff member moves over to adjust the microphone as kunigami has his head down, writing something on an unopened bottle of drink that his team was sponsored by.

by the time he lifts his gaze up to you again, he's suddenly struck with a certain dazzle in your eyes, a spark of curiosity. it felt like an attack straight to his heart, and that's when he knew you might be the one. perhaps it was naïve, but he's never felt this way before.

you knew it was best to step down before you get too ahead of yourself, so you nod and hand your mic to your assistant at your side. other people need their turns too, right? you also fail to notice kunigami giving the bottle to the staff next to him, whispering a few words to them.

only a few minutes later did you find yourself with a free drink in your hand, his number scribbled over the label in a thick black marker.

[quitesins]

Boxer!Bakugou x Sports Journalist!Reader

Masterlist

Tags: Sfw, Drabble, Female!reader, Aged up!character, Boxer!Bkg, Sports journalist!Reader, ooc bakugou? Maybe? Dialogue heavy, I’ve had this in my drafts since feb, idk anything about boxing btw

“They say you’re a prodigy, Mr. Bakugou but do you think you can keep up with those who’ve been fighting for years?”

Bakugou Katsuki, The Dynamight.

It’s testy to ask a question like that. You’ve watched his other interviews- he’s volatile, quick to anger. So you’re surprised when he looks you over, and smirks.

“You doubtin’ me?” There’s amusement in his voice. He thinks you’re nervous, he’s already disregarded you as a threat.

“No.” You sit up a little straighter. “But you have been uncharacteristically quiet about your training recently. One can only assume why.”

Bakugou lets out a bark of laughter, it’s not one you haven’t heard before but it’s still rare, feeling almost exclusive to the journalists he really doesn’t respect.

“And you’re suspecting it’s because I have nothing to show? Hah!”

You have to force your eyebrows back up, your lips to still curve.

“If not, what else? Aren’t you a little too confident” You pause. “Izuku Midoriya is also force to beat, but even he isn’t so cocksure.”

The crowd around you hushes. No one dares mentions that name. Bakugou grits his teeth, while you smile with yours prettily. It’s a low blow, bringing up his rival, but you’re not here to play nice either.

Bakugou takes a second, then replies. “That nerd would tremble over a baby.” His arm comes out to rest on the seat beside him, and he leans back casually. “His progress has nothing to do with me. I know my skill. I don’t need to be worried.”

It ticks you off how quick he is at regaining the upper hand, like confidence runs through his veins.

Though he looks unperturbed, his team ushers another journalist to the mic, and you have to step back at last. But even as you sink back into the crowd, head lowered, scribbling away at your notes, a pair of red eyes follow you, with intensity you’d be glad not to notice.

You’re waiting in the cold, under a darkening sky, just outside the hall, when a warmth emerges on your left side. It’s him. The Dynamight. And you jump back startled.

He stands there, clearly entertained by the fact you hadn’t noticed him and then by little gasp when you do.

“Mr Bakugou.” You’re curt, not particularly interested in getting into an argument, expecting that was what he was here for.

“Bakugou’s fine.” His shoulder nudges yours, for a second you think it’s a threat, but the foreign softness of his voice makes you realise otherwise. He’s trying to be… friendly? For what reason, it’s beyond you.

“Bakugou.” You don’t open up, but you don’t shy away either. He seems to take that as a win. “Shouldn’t you be inside, I’m sure everyone is clamouring for your attention.”

He snorts, it’s similar to his laugh during the interviews, but this time you can tell it isn’t taunting. You feel a bit guilty for assuming it had come with malice earlier.

“You’re not one bit scared of me are ya?”

“Should I be?”

Maybe he genuinely enjoys the back and fourth, because he really laughs at that. “Nah, you’d probably write a hit piece on me.”

“I- What?” When his words sink in you fluster at his claim. “No I wouldn’t? What?!”

“I read that article you did on Dabi.” Bakugou raises- without accusation. “The fucker deserved it.”

“It wasn’t like that!” It wasnt. It’s not your fault the famous boxer Dabi— Touya Todoroki had turned out to be former world champion, Endeavour’s son. You weren’t trying to expose any nepotism. It just happened to be. “It’s my job!!”

For a moment, Bakugou thinks you look like a scolded child, trying to defend yourself from the heinous allegation of stealing from the cookie jar.

“Relax. I know.” Bakugou nudges your shoulder again. “It’s why I want you to come interview my gym.”

“What?”

“My gym, Jeanist, Red, the whole lot.” He lists. “I don’t trust any other extra to do it. Either suck ups or fuckin’ liars.”

“And you think I’d be the inbetween?” You eye him warily, you don’t trust his trust.

“Yeah.” He ignores your skepticism. “Plus, it’d be nice to have a pretty girl around for a change.”

Now that’s what gets you speechless. Despite the increasing attempts of gossip mags trying to speculate about the annoyingly handsome Dynamight’s love life, he’d never actually been caught in a dating scandal. Honestly it seemed like the man was far too focussed on himself to have interest in anyone at all.

“That shut you up, huh?”

You’re actually glad he teases, because it reminds you not to fall for whatever charm he’d conjured up. You give him a frown but somewhere in your chest, it feels oddly warm.

“Think about it.” He steps back. “I’ll tell you now, best fuckin’ article you’ll ever write.” He nods over to a car you hadn’t noticed pull up.

It’s your cab, and it’s mildly embarrassing to realise how concentrated you’d been on him. He goes to take his leave and you turn to enter the car. Neither of you say goodbye, you just look away with faint smiles on your faces.

I had the beginning of dis just floating about in ma drafts since feb, finally added to it so why not post, also yes this is a call to watch Ippo. Miyata my beloved…

[ryescapades]

love your new theme! im gonna be brave and request for a kaiser drabble. something like brother's best friend trope with him. all fluffy and cosy!

a secret third thing, maybe.

characters: michael kaiser (blue lock) x ness's sibling gn!reader genre/warning: fluff, slight manga spoilers, not sure if i characterize them correctly here so might be ooc a/n: hope this is to your liking ^^ i'm trying my best to get out of my writing slump so this is actually a good practice for me and thank you for requesting! <3

"you're late."

ness, only just arriving at the cafe a few seconds ago, pouts at your narrowed eyes. "i know, i know, sorry. but in my defense, i've never been to this town so it took a while to get here."

you sigh once again. "well, now that you're finally here, we should order something. i'm starving," you say, about to fully step out of your booth when a voice has you halting in your steps, making you nearly stumble from your foot catching against the leg of the table.

"ness, there you are." rich, velvety and familiar. too familiar.

ignoring the skip in your heart beat, you turn towards the owner of the voice, your eyes clashing with a pair of blues lined with vivid red.

"oh, isn't this such a nice surprise? ness didn't mention anything about meeting any of his dear family member." kaiser drawls, a smirk growing on his face.

the slight jab has both you and your brother scrunching your eyebrows. of course, kaiser knows about how in your family, you're the closest to ness. you never disparaged your brother just because he decided to pursue a different career path from everyone else. whatever he does, he's still your beloved brother.

you sharply swivel to the redhead, "why is he here?" you hiss. ness only blinks a few times before giving you a toothy grin. "why not? the more the merrier, right?" he chirps, apparently fine as he brushes off kaiser's earlier comment.

the aforementioned man only grins wider. "now, now. what's so wrong with me being here, hm?" he says, a knowing glint in his eyes as he makes eye contact with you.

and of course, he knows about your silly little crush on him too.

he's not dumb, after all. every time the two of you were in each other's presence, you just seem like you can't get it together; red cheeks, ears flushed and voice slightly trembling. it doesn't help that kaiser even uses those to his advantage by teasing you every chance he gets. not to mention his time away at that blue lock project never ceases your admiration for him any less. if anything, it just grows and you don't even know why and how.

"i-i didn't say—!" you sputter, looking away as heat crawls up your neck at his gaze. ness, seemingly oblivious to the dynamic between you and his teammate (or maybe he just doesn't care. you never know when it comes to your brother), adds in, "hey, how about i go order for us? i'll get all the tasty stuff, i promise!" he exclaims before running off to the counter.

you only stare at your brother's back with a faltering reaction, looking like a deer caught in headlights as you're now left alone with your... uh- crush...

kaiser whistles slightly as he takes a seat in front of you. "and there he goes. good ol' ness, huh?" he muses. you only hum as a response, now awkwardly drumming your fingers on the table.

"so... how have you been doing?" he starts, placing an elbow on the table with a cheek resting on his fist as the longer strands of blue hair flows down his shoulder smoothly.

you try hard not to stare.

taking a second too long to reply, you don't even look at him in the eye. not like you can, anyway. not without embarrassing yourself any further. "um, doing fine. i guess."

the next few seconds after that are filled with silence. perhaps there's even a crow flying by.

and then kaiser laughs— wait, why is he laughing? what's so funny about this? you're just here sitting and (barely) talking to your crush and he's laughing?!

"are you still shy, y/n? i'm pretty sure we've met plenty of times before. certainly by now you've gotten used to talking to me already." he remarks, a teasing lilt accentuating his tone.

trying to fight off the urge to fidget with yourself, you huff, "i'm not." the athlete in front of you raises a perfectly shaped brow. "you're not what? not shy or not used to talking to me?"

at that, your face frowns as you realize that once again, you're barely making any coherent replies so you let out a frustrated groan with your face hidden in your hands, "ugh, cut me some slack. you know why i'm like this." at this point you don't bother feeling embarrassed about your infatuation anymore. you’re way past being secretive.

this time though, kaiser is the one that takes a second too long to answer. and when he does, it's a low murmur of, "have i ever told you how adorable you are, mein liebling?"

he has. many times. over and over.

oh sweet lord. you could only pray you've got the mental (and cardiac) capacity to survive the whole day.

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[sl-vega]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ I DON'T KNOW MUCH, BUT I KNOW I WANT YOU

pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader

genre: fluff, first crush, oneshot/drabble, hiori character study if you squint, classmates to lovers, pre-bluelock au, canon compliant

synopsis: hiori knows something is wrong with him when he can't focus during practice, or during games, or during anything really. he initially pins the blame on you, you're the only thing occupying his mind whenever he tries to do anything. karasu says hiori's got it bad (aka he's in love) but there's no way, ...right? (or in which our cyan haired prodigy tries to figure out his very obvious feelings for you, and karasu teases him like the amazing friend he is)

CW: mild language, potentially ooc hiori and karasu, mentions of toxic/controlling parents (I mean it's hiori what do you expect?) 

part one // part two

The whistle sounded, and the match came to an end, and Bambi Osaka Youth had...

Lost actually.

Normally Hiori would've been worried about his parents' reaction. How they would make sure he got even more practice than usual, and how his mother would put him on another excessive and controlling diet.

Normally Hiori would be dreading the walk back home, already feeling the disappointment radiating off of his father, even if they weren't present at the match itself. The fear that maybe today would be that day that his parents would stop loving him, the day where his facade would finally shatter. The day that he would finally fall off the thin tight rope that he had been clinging to his whole life.

But today, his thoughts were anything but normal.

The only thing plaguing his mind was you, some pretty girl that became his seatmate in school a few weeks ago.

He spotted you before heading to the change rooms with the rest of his teammates today, and his mind reverted to the dumb fantasies he always got whenever your were around.

They usually consisted of him holding your hand, giving you your favorite flowers, or sometimes they were just snapshots of you.

Your smile, your voice, anything and everything about you drove him crazy.

Not that he would ever admit it.

Hiori's developed a sixth sense to your presence, even during the short time that's he's known you. He doesn't know why, nor does he know the name of the feeling that makes his heart jump to his throat whenever he hears your laugh, but he's always certain whenever you're nearby.

He decided to risk a glance, and lo and behold, there you were, chatting with a friend about something. Your face lit up at something that she said, and you playfully swatted her arm in retaliation to something.

"It's rude ta' stare ya' know."

With a mere brush of shoulders, Hiori's attention was drawn away from you, and to his raven haired teammate instead. Karasu leans forward to get a better look at you, quickly analyzing your behaviour and mannerisms before turning back to his teammate.

"So that why you've been so distracted lately."

Karasu looked at Hiori with that shit-eating grin of his. That same face he always makes whenever he sees right through him. It was almost concerning how well his upperclassman seemed to know him.

"If ya' like her so much, you should just talk to her."

"I- I don't like her."

"Those starry eyes of yers' say otherwise."

Hiori looked away and tried his best to hide the red hue that spreads across his face. Of course there was no point in doing so since he was dealing with the ever-so-lovely Karasu Tabito, but he didn't need his teammates calling him out.

Not yet at least, he didn't even know what was going on in his own head, or heart for that matter.

Their coach called them over, everyone was about to be granted leave, the two of them walked over and positioned themselves next to the rest of the team, and coach went on about how they shouldn't slack off during practice or somethin'

Not that Hiori could care, seeing as how you were only a few meters away from him, some cheaply painted fence being the only thing standing in between the two of you.

Coach kept lecturing and scolding them, but Hiori's gaze kept wandering back to you.

Why were you here? Were you watching the game? Were you watching him? Did you like soccer? Had you watched his other games before? If you did, how has he not noticed yet? Maybe one of his teammates knew you personally. Wait- what if you were dating someone on the team?-

Hiori doesn't know why, but the thought of you being taken gives him a sinking feeling.

Suddenly he felt a blunt kick against his ankle. It's Karasu, of course.

"What the fu-"

"Not my fault yer' too busy ogling at her to concentrate, consider this a favour."

The older boy quickly cut him off before any crass language could fall from his lips, and Hiori's focus returned to whatever their coach was saying, but his superior's words simply entered one ear and exited the other.

His mind was still filled with thoughts of you, and only you, and when he saw you leave with your friend from the corner of his eye, he felt that same sinking feeling again.

When their coach finally dismissed them, Hiori was tempted to try and catch up with you, but he doesn't dare, Bambi Osaka lost, which was already enough to get a scolding from his parents, but coming home late? 'Cuz of a girl no less?

Yeah, he wasn't that reckless, even when it came to you

Though that same sinking feeling returns when he saw your figure slowly leave his vision, already missing your presence.

Apparently his gloom was evident, because the second he returned his focus back to his teammates once more, he was met with Karasu and that God forsaken look of his.

It was still incredibly concerning of how easy it was for his senior to pick him apart with a simple glance.

"She's gonna think yer' some creep if ya' keep staring at 'er like that."

"Shut up ya' stupid crow."

Karasu took a few steps forward, but slowed down his pace because he was waiting for Hiori to follow him. He had actually gotten the approval of his parents to take the train back home with Karasu. Hiori didn't know how, but he wasn't complaining.

The younger boy followed him, as they walked off the field with the rest of their team.

Everyone exchanged farewells before dispersing into their own groups, some walking home and others heading to a local convenience store or cafe to wind down.

And that left Hiori and Karasu to walk to the station, Karasu leading the way, and Hiori following him like a puppy.

The walk was silent for quite some time, the only prominent view being Karasu's back facing towards him.

Of course, Karasu couldn't keep that big mouth of his shut, and it seemed like today was no different.

"So what's she like?"

"What do ya mean?"

Karasu rolled his eyes and gave him an unimpressed look.

"That girl."

Hiori paused for a second, he actually didn't know that much about you, he thought you were really nice, and pretty, and you always lent him your stationary, even though you forgot it on some days. You even let him keep a turquoise glitter gel pen of yours since he seemed to like writing with them so much.

"It matches your eyes."

He distinctly remembers your words from a couple weeks ago, when your hands brushed as you gave him the pen, and the way you smiled when you pulled it out of your pencil case. The pen's ink was halfway finished but there was still a substantial amount left.

"Lemme know if you need another!"

He wouldn't admit it but he exclusively used that pen for all his assignments from that day forward.

Suddenly he heard Karasu clear his throat, snapping him out of his daydreams and back to reality.

"Uh, she's..."

Hiori paused once more, trying to think of a word that could actually do you justice.

"....nice?"

"So ya don't know anything about 'er other than the fact that yer' whipped for 'er?"

He was taken aback by the blunt statement, but it was true, other than the fact that he knew that you were nice, he didn't know much else about you.

"Must be one hell of a gal if she can get the attention of our local prodigy without tryin'"

Hiori playfully swatted his shoulder.

"I told ya not to call me that! But yeah, she is."

Maybe Hiori didn't know much about romance, or about you, but there was one thing he knew for sure.

If it came to you, he was willing to change that.

[melancholiaincarnate]

yours, now and forever

a regency era kento nanami longfic

「 in which ᵎᵎ 」 kento nanami is a fool with his words, and you can't seem to get on his good side.

「 words ᵎᵎ 」 many. (12k)

「 author's note ᵎᵎ 」 wow okay, so. this is my baby. it has gone through many versions, many rewrites, and now it's moved blogs with me. if you know my old blog, you know what fic this used to be, and i felt as if it were wasted on that fandom. without that fandom though, i wouldn't have found my closest friend and idea gremlin, @zooone. thank u to my zone. thank u to my proofreader @egglain who took the time to research my historical inaccuracies and then deal with me even as i proceeded to ignore them. anyways, heed warnings etc etc, this is NOT historically accurate, nor is it very good, but i love it. if the people demand, there will be little drabbles about their lives bcus i am not ready to give up regency!nanami just yet :DDD

「 tags n warnings ᵎᵎ 」 no smut deal with it, lottts of angst, major character death, historical inaccuracy, satoru gojo being a little bitch, satoru gojo matchmaker arc, kento nanami is a little ooc, everyone is a little ooc, nanami somehow became choso and yuji's guardian??? choso uses itadori last name, yuko ozawa mention?!, lots of angst, reader is a bitch if you squint, pining!!, bridgerton/pride and prejudice inspired :D

it’s beautiful this time of year. you’ve always loved the springtime, not only because of the warmer air and the fresh scent of flowers, but because it meant you were traveling up to the ton. 

the ton was one of your favorite places, if not favorite, to ever be. as much as you loved your father’s estate in the countryside– complete with its own stables, riding grounds, and grandoise library– nothing compared to stepping outside the door of the town manor stepping outside the door of the town manor to the bustling carriages and people laughing in the streets. the feeling of the sun shining down on you and casting gorgeous shadows of the leaves was incomparable.

springtime was the social season - when every family who meant something in society flocked from their vast country homes to the smaller, (yet just as grand), manors that lined the streets of london. 

social season also meant that you would see friends and family that you barely saw otherwise. each year, as your carriage pulled up to the manor, you could see the figure of your favorite younger cousin. even from quite a bit away, your excitement was infectious and you could feel it bubbling in your own body. 

this year was no different. as soon as the carriage pulled to a stop, you were bounding out, (nearly tripping on loose pathing), and bombarding your cousin with a tight embrace. 

“oh nobara,” you exclaimed, leaning into your cousin, “it’s been so long. my god, you cut your hair!” your mouth widens in surprise as you bring a hand to twirl the ends of your cousin’s hair. A

“over the winter i have discovered an affection for shorter hair. i saw a girl with it in a town i visited and i decided i must attempt it for myself.” nobara beams, “it looks gorgeous on me, does it not? i am sure to capture attention!” 

there was a glint of anticipation beyond measure in nobara’s eyes. this year, nobara would be making her debut at the first ball of the season, where she and other debuting ladies would announce themselves as open candidates for matrimony. 

the tradition was as follows: each lady, upon turning eighteen years, would make their entrance into society, and find themselves a husband. it would be done so via a series of balls, in which the ladies would dance with men who approached them, and be courted by men for four months before they were offered a hand in marriage. nobara, being from japan and having to find a companion to travel to london with, would be debuting herself a little later - at her current stature of one and twenty.

according to nobara, she had spent the entirety of last year taking notes and writing down tips from older ladies in a small pink journal - all so that she would find a perfect match in her first year. she was entirely too determined, you thought.

most ladies, if not all, find their match in their first season. there were some unlucky ones who took two, and even three. they were generally looked down upon by society, and nobara would be damned if she didn't get her husband her first go-round the ton.

you, on the other hand, were completely comfortable without a husband. you found the whole courting process tedious, and thought it a waste of time to spend hours at tea parties and balls flaunting off to men who simply see you as nothing but a warm bed to come home to at night. unfortunately, this would be your last year of freedom, so to speak. ladies around the ton were beginning to imply, (more like shove in your face), that you needed to be married soon, as it was quote unquote improper for a lady approaching five and twenty to be unmarried. 

you took pride in your family, especially your father, and if he were to somehow lose out on business prospects or be shunned from society simply because you did not fancy any man in london, you would feel most guiltily. he had done nothing but provide for you; how awful it would be to outcast one’s own family for lack of a suitable marriage. 

“cousin?” nobara cocks her head to catch the eldest’s attention, “you are always so far away, even when you are standing right in front of me. please, cousin, enlighten me. what is on your mind that has you so troubled?”

you simply smiled and shook your head. “i am only mentally grieving the loss of my freedom, nobara, and nothing more. you know i am not as eager as you are to be wed, and yet, the general populace are starting to talk. as much as i may protest, i fear that within the next two seasons– nay, one– i must procure myself a match.” you sighed, lacing your arm within your cousin’s as the two ladies entered the manor. 

they enter the drawing room and the scent of fresh flowers wafted in the air, a vase full of fresh lilies on the table by the door. the drawing room had alabaster walls, green accents, and was complete with gorgeous chestnut furniture commissioned by your father from a local carpenter after your mother had mentioned an affinity for the look of chestnut. the tables were recently polished, and sat right in the middle of a small side table were scones and tea.

“oh cousin, you are always so dreary!” nobara sighs, having a seat on the sofa. “pass me a scone, will you? i am starved.” upon your completion of nobara’s request, you sat down at your own small table, where your father had left a newly bound journal for you - complete with a small sprig of baby’s breath tucked in between the pages as a marker. 

although your father was often physically absent due to business travels, he was certainly not emotionally absent. he made sure that his daughter, no matter your age, was properly taken care of and had everything a young lady could possibly ever ask for. 

you didn’t mind his frequent absences though. you enjoyed your own company, and had no problem finding things to busy yourself what with your insatiable curiosity. you’d beguan reading more intensive books at ten, playing the pianoforte at twelve, and sewing at fourteen, though you’d stopped once you began pricking yourself too often. recently, you had picked up drawing, and you wanted to head to the markets sooner rather than later to pick up a brand new journal and some charcoal pencils.

tuning nobara’s drawls about the season out, you spoke. “nobara,” you asked, twirling the baby’s breath around in your fingers, “i am going to take to the markets if you would like to join. you would be agreeable company.”

“sounds wonderful!” nobara beamed, standing up quickly, “i need to pick up some new ribbons anyhow, the first ball is only a mere three nights a ways. i must begin preparations!”

upon hearing your cousin bring up the ball yet again, you could not help yourself as laughter bubbled out of your throat. you shook your head, grabbing a small shawl and wrapping it around your shoulders, before setting out the door to the market, nobara in tow. 

the market was an average place. everywhere you looked were small shops lit by candlelight and newsboys trying to hustle a pound or two by selling the latest society papers.

there were, of course, girls –-- with their corsets tied a little too tight and their legs crossed gracefully as they sat on park benches underneath lacy umbrellas. with girls, came men, who were seeking to start the season early as they paraded downthe side walks with an air of pompous grace, their eyes manically searching for the girl they were to court.  

“humourless morons in my opinion,” you scoffed as you watched a man procure a smushed flower from the back of his pocket and present it to a lady - the same man who, moments earlier, you’d watched do the same to another, only to be rejected. “not an ounce of shame behind their actions. it is honestly a mystery to me how they manage to get away with such behavior. do women not see? or do they choose not to see simply because they are deluded with silly fantasies of marriage?” 

“you need to watch your tongue, cousin,” nobara teased, her eyes also wandering and scouting for a possible match, “for one day, one of these morons will catch your eye.”

“in some other world, yes,” you laughed, shaking your head, “but in this one, i have yet to find one man who possesses the ability to be both aware of himself, and of the world, and i doubt i ever will. london is full of nothing but raffish rakes.”

after mingling amongst the patrons for an hour or two, the girls return home. nobara’s hands are filled with pretty ribbons and hair pins, while your hands are quite empty - save for a journal and a pair of charcoal pencils. 

as soon as you arrive back at the manor, you bid goodnight to your cousin as night has settled its way into your bones. you hadn’t slept in your room at the ton manor in almost a year, and so the minute your skin feels the soft silk of the sheets and the pillow that has been kept well fluffed, sleep weighs your body down. 

the next three days go about the same. you spend ample time in the drawing room with nobara, occasionally making a journey to the park to people-watch and draw while nobara converses.

you’re sitting in the park, your charcoal pencil composing a beautiful illustration of the landscapeand its nature. nobara is sitting next to you, a cross-stitch project in your hands when a girl runs up to them, one you both recognize, and the girl looks quite roused.

“you will never guess who is slated to visit.” the girl, a longtime friend of yours named yuko ozawa, is laughing. “the itadori’s and their guardian, kento nanami! they have not been back to london in ages! and,” her voice drops, as she looks around to see if anyone is listening, “rumor has it - the two eldest, yuuji and choso, are looking for wives. oh! and how could i forget! they are hosting a friend for the season. there are varying reports - some say it is lady ieiri shoko, but most believe it is lord satoru gojo, and my, he is wealthy.” she giggles, “i do not want after the wealth though. i have heard that the youngest itadori, yuuji, i believe, is around my age and is quite handsome.” she smiles, mischief dancing in her eyes, “hopefully, they attend the ball. oh! i must go home and start preparing. i do hope to see you there tonight?”

“we will be in attendance,” nobara confirms with a soft look and somehow, yuko’s smile brightens. 

“magnificent!” she laughs, “i will see you there! best of luck to you nobara, and you,” yuko turns to you, “i will not wish luck for, as i know you will not be courting.”

“i am glad you know me so well, friend.” you smile, and yuko laughs. 

“right, well. i shall see you two later.” yuko bids her farewells, and nobara turns to you, eyes dancing just as brightly as– if not more than– yuko’s.

“did you hear that, cousin?” her voice is filled with titillation and glee, “the itadoris, and their friends too! i am sorry to interrupt your art, but we must go and dress! one of us,” she smiles knowingly at her cousin, “might catch the eldest or,” mischief sparkles in your eye, “lord gojo’s attention.”

“and it will be you, dearest nobara. once they lay eyes upon you, they will be smitten for the rest of their lives.” you shut your book carefully, tucking the charcoal pencil behind your ear as you stand.

nobara does the same, dusting the dirt off of her dress as the two of you grasp arms and walk back home.

as soon as you arrive, nobara is sent into a frenzy. questions like, “should i wear this dress?” or “which pendant matches better?” are echoed down the long halls of the manor, making their way to your ears.

you’ve already picked out a dress, and compared to the dresses other girls will be wearing tonight, it’s rather, well, plain. a pale pink base with barely visible white lace decorating the front, and a white ribbon tied round your waist. your hair is tied into a neat bun, with your neck and face accentuated with a matching pearl necklace and set of earrings. after almost six seasons of watching, you know your ensemble will attract the least attention, and allow you to stay in the shadows as you please. you’re content with your look, and that is all that matters to you. 

nobara, of course, the very meaning of elegance, was dressed beautifully. her jewelry was polished perfectly and light bounced off of it like a mirror, while her dress was a gorgeous deep blue that made her face pop.

the ball was not short of ladies dressed similar to nobara - their faces shining with bright smiles as they fanned themselves lightly. it was the beginning of spring, after all, and the weather was beginning to heat up slightly.  people danced in the middle, soft giggles from girls wafting through the air. it was the first ball of the season - girls needed to make an impression. 

you watched from the sidelines, carefully cradling a small cup of champagne, until suddenly, the entire room went silent. it was odd - never in your life had you’d heard a room so silent, especially one that was just bouncing with life only moments prior. 

you saw the crowd parting for a group of people, and though you couldn't see all of them, you saw one particularly tall male. you craned your neck to get a look at the rest, and their prestige only clicked when they were announced to everyone.

“lord choso kamo,” the steward of the household pointed to a raven-haired boy with a frown, “lord. yuuji itadori, ” a fair-skinned, pink-haired man with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “lord kento nanami,” he was rather stoic and tall with gorgeous blonde hair,  “and lord satoru gojo.” a couple inches taller than kento, he had a prideful sort of look about him - one that caught the attention of every lady in the room.

as soon as the announcement of their arrival finished, the ball was back into full swing, with girls being twirled and spun around, and laughter dancing through the air. the small group of four separated, with the two younger men immediately finding themselves dance partners, and satoru entertaining himself with the women that flocked to him. his blonde friend seems to have his own fair share of admirers, but for some odd reason or another, he is ignoring them. 

it was the eldest of the group though, that tall blonde one, that caught your attention. you cannot decide whether it’s his handsomeness, or if it’s the displeased look on his face, but something about him makes you peel yourself off the wall and out of the shadows.

 for the first time in your life, a man has intrigued you.

people are bumping into you, but you weave yourself right through expertly. right as you reach the two men though, a drunken man pushes you, and you trip over your own feet. fortunately, there’s a pair of strong arms that wrap around your waist, preventing your fall.

“are you alright?” the voice is hiding its laughter, and you look up to find a quirky smile paired with a the most crystal blue eyes. “i must say, you would have taken a rather nasty fall if i were not there to catch you.” he helps you regain your footing, and as soon as you recognize him, you bow.

“lord gojo.” you murmur, downcasting your eyes towards his unnaturally shiny boots. “my apologies, sir.”

“no need for such formalities.” the man laughs as you raise your head back up to meet his eyes. “it was simply a mistake. drunken men, yes?”

“oh, nothing unusual.” you titter, “take a walk around the town at night, and i bet you would be penniless if you had to give me a dollar for every drunken man you saw. it does not take away from the charm though, oh not at all,  especially with the way the pond in the park glitters at night.” your eyes sparkle with a certain fondness that does not simply pass the man behind satoru. kento’s fist clenches at his side, and he takes a breath, his stoic demeanor returning instantly. 

“you speak of the town as if you have grown up here. am i correct in my assumptions, miss?” satoru’s voice is enchanting and it’s obvious his friend is hanging on your every word. his mouth parts slightly as if he were to speak but you begin talking again and he shuts his mouth obediently. 

“you would be partially correct. i spend my warmer seasons here, and the colder ones on my father’s estate not too far from here. i do consider this my home though.” memories of you underneath your father’s arms as you strolled around the town come flooding back to you, and your heart fills with warmth. 

satoru is quiet for a moment. as he goes to speak, a new song begins, and he looks at you sheepishly. kento’s fist clenches at his side. “forgive me if i am too forward, but would you like to dance? i may not be the best but you draw my curiosity.” 

you duck your head with a smile, and bow, “of course, my lord.” 

as the two of you take hands and begin waltzing around the room, you lock eyes with satoru’s companion. he  has his head cocked and is looking at you with a look you cannot place, but that you assume is nothing other than pure curiosity. his hands are crossed against his chest, and he is still blatantly ignoring any women that come to his attention. you decide then that you must ask him for a dance. your curiosity is insatiable.

the dance comes to an end, and with a reddened face, satoru gives you a bow. “i do hope to dance with you at least once more before the night ends, if you are not opposed of course.” his eyes are sparkling and you think to yourself that he is quite handsome.

“i am not opposed, my lord. come find me whenever you see fit.” with that, you bow, give a heart-melting smile, and find your way through the crowd towards the itadoris’ guardian.

he seems shocked–, no, confused–, as to why you’re approaching him. “lord. nanami.” you curtsy. you receive no greeting back– - not even an acknowledgement of your presence. he simply stares down at you with blank, cold eyes, the complete opposite of satoru’s. “i just had the pleasure of dancing with your companion. he is a wonderful dancer, i must say. do you dance, mr. nanami?” 

“no.” 

“oh. i see. is there a particular reason?” your hands have come to play with the pearls on your neck, a nervous tick of yours. it’s becoming awkward to keep standing here while this man blatantly ignores you.

“because i do not.” his voice is stern, and finally, he makes eye contact with you. “i do not dance, and if i did, i would not dance with you.” his words are harsh, and you cannot help the sneer that graces your lips.

“such pleasant words.” you retort with a bite, “it clearly appears you enjoy your solitude, so i will leave you be. good day.” you huff, your pride wounded. kento, on the other hand, takes a step to follow you, but then returns back to his post, watching your figure practically stomp away from him. you berate yourself for even thinking about dancing with him while similarly, he berates himself for his sharp tongue. 

you stand off to the side, fuming, as nobara gracefully steps beside you. “you danced with lord satoru, cousin, so why do you seem so down?”

“his companion,” you shoot a glare at kento, the ice in your eyes fading to confusion as you realize he was already staring at you, “is an impolite arse with no home training. i do not care how much wealth he boasts for it means nothing if he is rude to every person he comes across. for heaven’s sake, nobara, he didn’t even look at me for half of our short-lived conversation!” you are vexed, and as kento watches you recount the tale to your cousin from across the room, he cannot help but feel slightly remorseful for his actions. 

the guilt rises to his throat and nearly chokes him to death once he sees your rant interrupted by none otherthan satoru gojo. he feels ill, he thinks, as he watches your scowl lift into a smile at the sight of his friend, and his friend’s equally bright smile as he takes your hand and youproceed to the dancefloor. 

kento turns away, clenching his fist at his sides, and instead decides to take a walk around the grounds and sulk in the byproduct of his social ineptitude.

“miss,” satoru asks you as the dance ends, “i was wondering if you would be home tomorrow, so i may call on you. our dances this evening were wonderful, and i would be most grateful to get to know you more. of course, it is your decision. if you do not want to see me, i shall oblige.” he gives you a smile, and suddenly, the idea of marriage does not sound too horrible to you. not if it is him, at least. 

“do not sell yourself short! i would be nothing but honored to receive you at my home.” your features soften. “it would be my pleasure, truly.”

“magnificent!” satoru laughs, his chest bursting at the prospect of getting to know you more. “i shall see you tomorrow, then?” 

“tomorrow, my lord.” you bow, and he shakes his head.

“please, miss, the formalities are not necessary.” he reminds you as you both approach nobara, where you are waiting by the carriage. “miss.” he gives nobara a bow, which you return, and then he stands regally again in front of you. “it was a pleasure getting to know you today. i look forwards to our visit.”

his excitement was unmatched. the next morning, as soon as the clock hit a decent visiting hour, his presence was announced at your manor. 

he looked nervous, almost, but his look of anxiety was quickly swept away by a bright smile. “miss.” he bowed, “i am here, as promised. thank you again for having me. it was wonderful to meet you last night.” nobara gave a small knowing look to her cousin, and then promptly escorted herself out of the room.

nobara would only be gone from the room for a mere few hours– - as satoru had said, he had business to attend to. he did not leave without extending a dinner invitation for that evening, inviting them both to the itadori’s’ manor.

you accepted with a bright smile and a curtsy, but the minute you heard his carriage begin its venture down the road, you groaned loudly.

“i cannot– - he is– - i cannot.” you tried to gather your words, but couldn’t. “i do not think i will be able to sit at a dinner with kento nanami and not watch my tongue. he is … there are no words to describe him. oh, this is going to go horribly. absolutely terribly, nobara.”

“tell me, why do you care if it goes horribly?” nobara asks, not looking up from her cross-stitching. “i thought you were not looking to marry this season.” there’s a teasing lilt behind the words, and it makes you roll your eyes in displeasure.

“you are so attentive, nobara.” you sigh, fiddling with a pillow on the couch. “i … i am not enthused by the idea… but i am not completely… opposed to it.” you know you’re lying to yourself and your cousin– - you’ve always been severely opposed to marriage, but there was something so captivating and appealing about lord gojo that made you even the slightest bit open to the idea. 

“falsehoods.” nobara scoffs. “you have said since we were little that you hate marriage! just admit it,” nobara simpers, “you have grown affections for satoru! and after only one dance, my god! if i had known it was that easy, i would have set you up to dance ages ago!” 

“i have not,.” you huff, giving nobara a pointed look. “who is to say that i am not just utilizing the man and his wealth for a nice dinner? i am positive the food tonight will be like nothing either of us have ever had, and a singular dinner will not guarantee his affections for me. i am sure he will not offer his hand in marriage immediately.” 

“you speak so lowly of men, my dear cousin. they are but fragile and sensitive creatures, and they fall hard.” nobara tuts, finally putting down her cross stitch to look at you. “you are playing a dangerous game and i do hope you will know when to end it.” she sighs, “i only wish for your happiness, but not at the expense of others, and especially not one as sweet as lord gojo. please do keep that in mind.” with that, nobara leaves. 

as the clock ticks on, and time moves closer and closer to the hour when you are supposed to arrive, your anxieties grow. nobara was right - you are walking a thin line, and could hurt a good man in the process, but your heart just isn't in it the way you think it's supposed to be.

you watch the townsfolk through the carriage window as you think. people have always described love to be this beautiful thing. your own father would tell stories about how he felt like he could not breathe when he was around your mother. you were only so averse to love because of the way your father described it– - overwhelming and smothering. your father would say that he felt like he was being strangulated every time he was apart from your mother, and the thought of that just was not appealing to you. you wanted to be your own person, not bound to a singular person for a source of air, and especially not bound to a pompous, arrogant man.

the books, though…, they described love as some fragile glass knickknack that needed to be cradled gently or else it would crack. 

you did not want love if it was similar to asphyxiation and you did not want love if it was delicate and dainty. you wanted a love that you did not have to stifle yourself for, and you were positive you would never find it. everyone fell hard and fast– - but you thought love at first sight was ridiculous. how were you supposed to decide based on one look– - one dance–, that this was your life partner?

nobara, of course, knew all of this. she was not lying when she said she wanted the best for her cousin and whether or not that was marriage was up to you. nobara could sense the yearning though. she could see the lingering glances at happier couples and the hesitance behind every step you took away from men who approached you. she has taken peeks at the novels her cousin picks up from the market– - all romance novels. she knew her cousin wanted nothing more than to love and to be in love, but she also knew her cousin was a stubborn woman and would not settle for anything less than exactly what she wanted.

you spoke of an ache in your chest to nobara often. you both attributed it to the loss of your mother, but the stars knew better. the hole in your heart was an ache for love– - pure, genuine love–, and whether or not you liked it, the stars would deliver it to you in the form of one kento nanami. 

your attention focused from your wandering thoughts to three figures standing by the entrance to the itadori manor. lord gojo, with a smile so bright it rivaled the sun, and the two itadori’s at each side.

“you made it!” satoru is at the carriage door immediately, helping nobara out gently, and then you. “you look wonderful, i am so happy you are here. it is not my home, of course my home is a day's journey away, but the itadori’s are lovely hosts!” he smiles, his enthusiasm palpable and his love for the itadori’s clear. 

it's endearing to you, and you find a small smile creeping itsit's way up your face. “the manor looks lovely so far, my l-satoru.” you stop yourself, remembering the man’s wishes from the night before.

“i am unsure if you were properly introduced to the itadoris.” he leads you gently to the boys, who are making conversation with nobara, “this is yuuji,” he points to the boy with pink hair, “and this is choso.”

yuuji shakes his head, and then glances at his hand. “i hope… i hope you enjoy your day at our manor.” he smiles brightly, putting his hand down quickly. in a flash, you could see words were written on his hand and you suppress a giggle.

“our guardian, kento,” the thought of that man makes your chest tighten with upset, “is in the study. he says that he hopes you and your cousin enjoy the grounds and he will try his best to be present at dinner.” choso’s voice is bland.

“but if you ask me, he will not be there. he never is.” yuuji huffs, turning his back to the group. “i will be in the parlor with the piano, if you will excuse me.” 

“excuse him,” satoru laughs awkwardly, “the boy has got a bit of a temper.” 

just like his guardian, you think.

“would you like a tour?” choso asks softly, saddling up to your side. “i do not mind showing you around, i actually quite like this manor compared to our other one. it has more life in it.”

“i feel the same way about my manor.” you give him a soft smile, “i would love a tour, choso. satoru, choso is going to give me a tour around the grounds if you do not mind.”

“no, of course not!” satoru grins, “i had some work to finish before dinner any way, i was hoping the boys would entertain the two of you. i am sorry, i invited you over too early,.” he gives you a bow, “but i swear to you i will be right by your side at dinner. you have my word.”

“i trust you.” your eyes soften and you feel a sense of warmth wash over you at his promises. there has never been a man so thoughtful towards you, and yet, nobara’s words ring in your head.

you walk through the halls with choso as he shows off his art collections that hang on the wall. the boy has an affinity for art, you find out. at some point, they come across yuuji playing the piano rather beautifully in the parlor, and nobara disbands from the tour to go listen to yuuji playing. eventually, you find yourself at the library with choso. it is a tall room in the middle of the manor, with books lining every corner of the room. some old, some new, and others clearly loved. at one end, a window covers the entire wall, looking out onto the gardens. 

“kento's collection.” choso says with a smile, “he has been collecting since …” he trails off, “since he was a boy.”

“it’s beautiful.” you murmur. it’s true. in the spaces where there are not books, there are beautiful paintings, depicting nature at its finest. landscapes with flowers, oceans with boats floating atop them, and in the middle, the centerpiece, a garden filled with an assortment of gorgeous flowers. 

your eyes wander around the room. his collection rivals your own back at the estate, and you’re surprised that someone would have more books than your father. 

“this must have cost a fortune.” your hands run across some of the books nearest to the door. these are the ones that look as though they were brought recently, and you notice a copy of a book you own on the shelf. 

“kento has a way with words,” choso chuckles, “half of these, actually–, most likely more–, were bartered or traded.” 

you hum. “i will agree. though, not positively.” you smiles, “your guardian shared some… choice words towards me regarding a dance last night.”

“did he say something of offense?” choso frowns, “my apologies. my guardian is, well, not the best, i shall say, at using his words properly, despite his affinity for writing. i am sure he did not mean it.”

you don’t want to hurt this poor boy’s opinion of his guardian, and so you keep your mouth shut. “i will take your word for it, choso.” you pull out a book, caressing the pages carefully in your hands. the smell of old book hit your nose and you felt as though you were back at home in your father’s library.

“if you would like, i can leave you here until dinner. i am sure kento will not mind. he never really comes out from the study any way, so you will be completely undisturbed.”

twice now, the boys have mentioned kento's frequent absence. 

you ponder it for a moment, before smiling and nodding. “that would be wonderful. thank you for your hospitality, choso.”

“it is my pleasure, miss.” he gives you a bow, and shuts the door softly, leaving you to explore the room on your own.

you immediately head towards the couch situated by the window. there are books stacked upon the floor and on a nearby table, and you step around them carefully so as to not disturb them.

a book at the top of a stack by the couch peaks your attention. it's worn and has obvious signs of wear, but that only warms your heart as it means the book has been loved. you grab it, immediately becoming immersed.

you don’t notice when the door opens, and watching you curiously from the doorway is kento himself. 

leaning against the doorframe, he clears his throat. “and may i ask what you are doing in my personal library?” he looks a lot more relaxed than he did at the ball last night and you cannot tell if it is his attire or the fact that he is simply in his own home. he's dressed casually, with his sleeves rolled up and his shirt untucked. his hair is slightly messy, and he's got a pair of round glasses on. despite your dislike for the man, you think he looks quite handsome.

“oh, mr. nanami.” you close the book carefully, setting it to the side, “my apologies. i did not mean to intrude. lord gojo invited my cousin and i over for dinner but he had some work. choso showed me around the manor and told me i could stay if i wanted. if you would like me to go though, i will.” you stand, smoothing out your dress, but he shakes his head.

“no, it is quite alright. you may stay.” he leans off the wall and shuts the door carefully behind him. “it was simply unexpected. that's all. i am not used to having visitors who are interested in my library.” as he approaches you, he notices the book in your hands. “you have a fondness for poetry?” 

“i do.” you smile, “i do not write myself– - no i could not use such eloquent words–, but i cannot help but enjoy them.” 

“one of my favorites too.” he murmurs, bending down to grab the book you were reading off of the couch. 

“i could tell. it is well-loved. you ought to buy yourself a new copy, mr. nanami.” you laugh lightly, “the words are fading.”

“do not tell me what to do with my own possessions. you have no right.” his head snaps up, “i have changed my mind. take your leave.” his voice is rigid and there’s a palpable anger behind his words.

“i- my apologies, mr, i-”

“out. i am not asking.” he orders, pointing a finger towards the door. 

“i am sorry.” you mutter once more, before practically flying out of the room. the door shuts with a thud and he closes his eyes, biting his lip as hard as he can. he thinks he tastes blood. 

he sinks onto the couch with the poetry book gripped tight in his left hand. with a small sigh, he turns the book to the side, running his finger along the barely visible “‘y.h.”’ engraved on the spine. it was so small and so worn out that one wouldn't notice it unless they knew it was there. he blinks away the tears and swallows down a lifetime’s worth of regret, opening the book as his fingers trail along the first stanzas of the first poem. he isn't reading– - he knows this book better than he knows himself– - this book is an extension of himself. he couldn’t ever bring himself to replace it for it would be as if he were replacing his own flesh and blood.

kento is late to dinner but the evident shock at his arrival on both yuuji, choso’s and satoru’s face tells you enough. he spares no one a glance, not even his own wards, and seems ticked off that the conversation at the table dwindled. 

you catch the side glances that yuuji and choso throw at each other, and you turn your body towards nobara, who is seated right beside you.

“he looks miserable.” you remark quietly, shoving the peas on your plate to the side. you were not a fan of peas, nor kento, but you would have to tolerate both it seemed.

“he always looks like that.” nobara replies back smoothly, “in the past four- and- twenty hours we have known him, i do not think i have ever seen a different expression on his face.” you let out a little giggle, turning your attention back to the conversation that was at hand. currently, yuuji was enthralling kento with a story of this young woman he had danced with last night.

“she  was absolutely stunning.” he sighs, “and yet, i am afraid i do not know how to capture her affections.” “what is her name?” kento takes a sip of his wine, cocking his head. “i would like to put a name to the woman you have not quit babbling about.” “yuko.” even saying the name causes the boy’s face to erupt in a smile, and you cock your head. “yuko?” you hum, “i have a friend named yuko about your age. say, i think your beloved yuko might also be mine.” “really?” his eyes sparkle, “you are friends with my dear yuko?” he gives you a quick description of the girl, and upon confirmation that they indeed share the same yuko, he leans in to the table. “do you know what she likes? what can i do to gain her admiration? what do you recommend to gain one’s affections?” 

“dancing.” your eyes flit quickly to kento who lets out an unamused snort. you were not going to remark, but his reaction irked you. “even if one’s partner is a discourteous soul.” 

“and what if one’s partner is just barely tolerable?” kento places his fork down, giving you a nasty look.

“well then,” you clears your throat, “everyone has their own interpretation of ‘barely tolerable’ and mine is sitting in front of me.”

satoru clears his throat, the tension between the two of them becoming suffocating. “well,” he smiles, “maybe you should call upon yuko tomorrow. invite her to dinner. and you, of course,” he turns to you, “are welcome to come tomorrow as well, since you are acquainted with yuko. oh, and your cousin as well!” 

“i appreciate the invite, my lord,” you wipe off your face with a small napkin that was provided, “but it seems as if i am an unwanted guest. i would absolutely hate to intrude on the itadori’s’ home for yet another anotyour day, especially considering the animosity i have been shown by their guardian.” you smile sweetly towards kento, who feels his chest constrict. “i would be delighted to have dinner again with you though, and so i am instead offering to return the favor and host you, yuko, yuuji and choso at my home tomorrow.”

the fact that you purposefully left him out causes kento to slam his fork down in anger. the plate rattled, and he nearly tips over his wine glass. “you are in my home, and i will not stand for your intolerance. i do not care if you are a guest under satoru–- you will respect me.” his voice is low and he is looking at you with a look his wards haven't seen since they were entrusted into his care.

you scoff, “i refuse to show respect to someone who has treated me with such contempt. i have been nothing but courteous to you, and yet you still find it in yourself to be ill-mannered. bless satoru’s soul because quite honestly, i am shocked you even have friends.”

“you are undermining me in my own home, and i do not appreciate it.” he hisses, “you become upset at my rejection, intrude upon my own personal library, and then proceed to invite every person i hold dear to me and exclude me.”

“i undermine you?” you laugh dryly, your eyes squinting at him, “you are delusional. you are the one who sits here and belittles everything i say, even if not directed towards you. though,” you stand, smoothing down your dress, “i suppose it is to make up for your lack of charm. lord gojo,” you bow, “i really do appreciate your hospitality. the same goes for you two,” you gives a soft smile to the boys, “but unfortunately, i am incredibly uncomfortable. nobara and i will be leaving now. thank you though, and my offer for tomorrow still stands.” nobara scrambles to bow to them, and you both leave. you waste not another glance at kento, your chest full and clenched with anger.

“i have plenty of charm, i just do not wish to waste it on a woman as average as you.” he shouts after you. as your footsteps recede, he shoves his own chair into the table, causing it to shake, and he retreats to his office, his fists clenched at his side.

the manor door closes noisily, and in the aftermath of their altercation everyone remaining at the table heard the slam of his study door and the simultaneous rumbling of your carriage pulling away out of the roadway. 

“i have lost my appetite.” yuuji mumbles, “please excuse me.” yuuji quietly tucks in his chair and leaves the room.

“as have i.” choso follows, leaving satoru alone in the dining room by himself. 

there’s a silence that follows, one that satoru does not like. satoru does not like silence much to begin with, but this one is heavier. this one was a direct cause of his actions. he leaves the dinner table, choosing instead to retire to his room for the night. in all his years of friendship, he has never seen kento so upset with a person, and he would hate to continue distressing his friend, especially considering the hardships the man is facing. on the other hand, there was a look in kento’s eyes that he could not place. it wasn’t hatred or disdain, and it bewildered the hell out of satoru. he saw the same look in your eyes too.

last night at the ball, you weren’t walking over to talk to him. no, of course you weren’t. his friend was spacing out and staring off into the distance, and when he followed his eyes, they were fixated on you. you were looking back at him with the same intensity, and then, both of their attentions were grabbed and pulled away. satoru noticed, how despite the many beautiful girls approaching kento, that his eyes kept wandering to that shadow, silently pleading for it’s attention. twenty minutes later, it was gone from the wall, and another two after that, satoru caught you from falling.

satoru had known from the very start that you were not into him and that your affections lay with kento. everything he had done was calculated from the minute he had asked you to dance. positioning you in kento’s line of sight so you could see each other while you danced, asking you to come over for dinner, and even choso’s manor tour. he’d specifically instructed choso to take you to the library and leave you there, as he knew midday was when kento decided to leave his office and head there. 

he had everything planned out perfectly. what he hadn’t counted on though, was kento’s pure stupidity. 

upon being seated in his office chair, kento picked up a quill, shuffling through the stacks of paper as he searched for a blank one. there, he scrawled a journal entry. his friend, haibara, had suggested a journal back when kento was a teen, though he’d had filled the pages of the journal haibara gifted him long ago. 

his journal was normal teen angsts that he entered in frequently,  but nowadays, his entries were far and few between, scribbled upon waste paper scrambled on his messy desk and then shoved into the bottom drawer, never to be read again. 

his quill moved faster than the words could process in his brain. kento had not felt any emotion in a long time, and now this girl–, you–, had brought upon more than he knew how to deal with. his eyes droopy and tired, kento abandoned the page as he stumbled his way up to the bed, disregarding his formal wear and simply passing out on his bed. 

surprise is kento’s first thought of the day -  most nights are spent pouring over documents and estate affairs in his office. most nights are spent half-slumped into his office chair until he hears yuuji and megumi chasing each other around the halls. but tonight, he'd woken up in his own bed, so he decides to savor it, before he must get up and bear the responsibility of his world on his shoulders. 

it’s then, when kento is enjoying the feel of his downy mattress and not of his hard wooden chair, that it gets sent. satoru  hadn’t planned to find his note, truly. he had gone into the office to wake kento up as he had done every morning he stayed with the itadori’s’ and when he opened the door, there was no kento. 

he was gone. and so satoru walked over to the desk, his eyes squinting at a note written on yellowing and half-ripped paper. it was in kento’s messy chicken-scratch, and after a quick read, satoru shoved it in his pocket anyways and exited the room, sealing it with the itadori family crest and sending it off with the rest of the post for the morning.

you receive the letter mid-day during your afternoon tea with nobara. the two of you hadn’t spoken about the quarrel between your and kento, and you were grateful for it. nobara instead spoke about her suitors, providing you a nice distraction from the anger, and slight regret, that bubbled in your chest.

“a letter for the miss.” your butler states, entering the room. it’s placed on the table next to you, and you pick it up gingerly, frowning at the state of it.

“if it could even be called that.” you mumble, “the paper is eons old.” you recognize the crest immediately, as it had been adorned around the manor you had spent time at yesterday. an ugly feeling claws its way up your throat.

“what is it?” nobara peers curiously, but you hold it away, hoping that satoru had just used their stationary and that it was not a letter from kento.“hey!” “give me a moment, i am reading, nobara.” you hiss out as you run your fingers along, squinting to read the handwriting. 

it has been ages since i have written, and unfortunately, as all others, .i am writing in a state of great frustration and  vexation. her recent behavior has been most unbecoming, and i cannot help but feel incensed by her actions. how could she be so rash... so .. thoughtless in her choice of words? i suppose she has every reason to, though. i have not been the kindest man. then again, when have i ever? 

and yet, despite this soul-encompassing anger, there is a sense of admiration. i cannot tell if it is admiration for her sheer audacity, or admiration for the lady herself. her fiery spirit and unyielding determination are truly remarkable, and i cannot help but be drawn to such a force of nature, as much as i would like to deny it. 

perhaps it is my own stubbornness that blinds me to the true nature of my feelings, but it is becoming harder and harder for me to fight the notion that there is an underlying sense of attraction that persists. there is just some thing about the way that she carries herself. despite almost every interaction we have had being negative, i have left each one with a tightening feeling in my chest. 

i believe it is regret. it’s a feeling i am used to these days. the other night i could not sleep, how could i? i’ve treated her with such disdain that if my mother were still alive im sure she'd scold me. 

yet i cannot stop thinking of moments ago. it was the way she simply just disrespected me in my own home, without a care in the world, and looked so utterly ethereal doing it. her beauty makes me stupid and loose with my tongue.

she insulted me and she did it with grace and a bewitching voice. there is just something about that girl that i cannot forget and i -

it cuts off there, the quill mark running off the page indicating that his hand had slipped. without another word, you fold the letter, holding it neatly in your hand as you walk out of the manor, ignoring nobara’s calls. 

the itadori manor was across town, about thirty minutes walking. you had left without a coat and it was cold, but you pursued on, the hand holding the paper trembling. you needed an answer.

you made the walk in twenty and your knuckles rapped upon the door loudly. a butler opened and after a quick explanation of your business, you made your way to kento’s office. you slammed open the door and surprisingly, based on the way the boys speak of him, he was not in his office.

you were going to talk to him one way or another, and you wandered your way around the manor, angrily stomping. it was only when you’d made your way back to his office that you bumped into him. he had clearly just woken up and had haphazardly dressed himself. his hair was messy and he looked sleepy, but you did not care that you were probably going to bother.

“what is your issue?” you hiss, stepping towards him. “have i done something to offend you? am i just that awful of a person that you deem it necessary to toy with me?” “what- what are you talking about?” he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, “and why is my office door open? was this you?” you ignore the question, instead unfolding the paper from it’s crumpled home in your pocket. “perhaps it is my own stubbornness that blinds me to the true nature of my feelings, but it is becoming harder and harder for me to fight the notion that there is an underlying sense of attraction that persists.” you read, your voice wavering not once despite the shaking of your limbs and your heart.

his own heart stops. it stops beating completely and kento is pretty sure that this is what death feels like. “how did you get that?” his lip wavers, despite the rigid tone that escapes his mouth. “where did you get that from?”

“oh so now you are playing games with me?” you scoff, throwing your hands in the air, “seriously! you are a joke, kento nanami.” “is that why my office was open?” his eyes squint, and he looks terrified for a moment at his next thought. “did you go through my things?” “of course not! you sent this to me, did you not? stamped with the itadori seal, am i wrong?” you shove it in his face and you’re right, of course. the letter is stamped. “i am just wondering. why? why me? why did you choose to amuse yourself by picking on me? there are so many other women who would die for any attention given by someone of your stature, and yet you choose to belittle me!”

“it was not my intention, you have to believe me.” he sighed, adjusting the glasses that sit low on his nose, “i might as well be honest.” he clenches a hand by his side before taking a breath. “the first good thing you have done ever.” you scoff, and he bites his lip. he decides looking anywhere but your face would be a better choice at this time, so he settles his eyes on your collarbone.

“i was a fool. i will admit my faults, and there are many–- too many to name. believe me when i say this, i have never been more enchanted to meet a person in all my miserable years. i blundered, my jealousy overcoming me at the sight of you dancing with satoru and i continued to make a laughing stock of myself with each interaction. please, this is no scheme or ploy as you may think, i am genuinely and utterly enamored with you. there is no reason i should have treated you the way i did, but you make me absolutely stupid.” his chest is heaving, and you can see his hands shaking by his side. “please, i know this is sudden, but i would like to court you–-”

“you are a madman.” you whisper, cutting him off. “you are stupider than i thought you were if you think that for one second i am going to believe any display of affection from you, no matter how wordy. you have done nothing but make me feel as though i am nothing to you, and for that, you are the last man on earth i would ever marry. you are arrogant, disrespectful, and most of all, you have no empathy for the feelings of others. i would rather bring shame upon my family before i accept any proposal from you.” 

it’s silent between the two of you. he’s finally made eye contact - and you’re breathing just as heavily as he is. your lips are parted, and so are his, and he is fighting the urge to lean in right then and there.

the moment is ruined when you crumple the note in your hand and place it on his chest. he comes up to grab your hand, holding it close to his chest as he grabs the paper. his hands are warm, and they fit perfectly around yours. you both realize it. 

part of him hopes that you will take back your words, but it is far too late for that. it was too late for him the minute you asked him about dancing. 

“have a good life, lord nanami.” you say nothing else, dropping your hand and turning on your heels away from him. 

he takes a step. kento wonders if you would take him if he chased after you and begged you on his hands and knees. 

it’s silent after that. his ears are ringing and his chest is hot and burning in the spot where your hand just rested. he feels his heart sink to his stomach, a feeling he hasn’t felt in years. it’s not disappointment and it’s not regret - it’s a yearning and a longing for something he won’t ever have. 

he needs to talk to his friend. it’s not a want, but a need. his friend would know what to do. he always did. within fourty minutes of your departure, the boys, satoru, and kento have packed up, abandoning the manor as quickly as they came.

the boys were quite prepared as they knew their guardian so well. it was not the first nor the last time that their guardian would relocate them in hopes of escaping whatever it is he seems to be running from. they had not even unpacked their bags, simply shoving the necessities back in and looking solemnly as kento took his own horse, not even riding with them. 

kento arrives far earlier than the carriages do and without another word, he hands off the horse to a housemaid and stalks off. he does not care that he has not eaten today or that it looks like it is going to rain; he needs to talk his friend. 

when kento was thirteen, he and his friend explored the woods behind their house together in an attempt to soothe kento's fear of the woods. for as long as he could remember, kento always had a fear of the unknown, and the sprawling landscape behind their house certainly did not help.

kento entered the woods hand in hand with haibara. haibara was explaining the different trees and flowers they saw, right until they stumbled across a small clearing, barely big enough for an outdoor lunch. it was right off the beaten path and was only a five minute walk from the forest entrance. 

he remembers being excited that this was the only spot not covered with grass - as there was only a small little circle sprawling with magnolia flowers. his friend said that it was beautiful that in the woods kento had found so scary there was a small, serene place with beautiful flowers. 

“if you had not come in here with me, neither of us would have stumbled upon this.” haibara had smiled up at him that day, “see, kento? there is beauty in this forest you fear.”

kento laughed and called it cliche and predictable, but now as he sits in front of haibara's grave in the middle of these magnolia flowers, he knows his friend lied. there has been no beauty in anything since his friend died, and everything to him has been unknown. kento’s been living in fear. 

upon entering the tiny field, there was one stone carving in the middle. kento sits right next to it, pulls his knees to his chest, and despite the neck pain that ached, he placed his head on the stone.

“hello, my friend.” kento begins, “i am sorry i was gone for so long. we went up into the town for the spring season. it was all satoru’s idea of course, you know him, and the boys were excited– - so i had to. i have done nothing but disappoint them and i hoped i would regain their favor by bringing them to the ton.” he sighs, his breath shaking. “i met a girl there. she is intelligent and gorgeous and kind. i know, i know, i always told you i would never marry and i would travel the world alone and explore. since you- since you left, i have had to reconsider. the itadori’s’ were placed in my care and .. and so- so, i thought it would be a good idea to socialize and get myself out there. i will need a wife eventually.” his voice cracks, and kento removes his head from the stone placing it in his knees as he cries. “the first time i met her, she was standing on the wall and she looked so, so beautiful, but of course-” he lets out a hiccuping sob, “she was not interested in me. who would be?” he laughs dryly, “i was… upset, and i said somethingsome thing that i did not mean and my pride would not allow me to apologize. the next time i saw her, she had your book in your hands. your favorite. sometimes i wonder why we did not bury you with it. i saw her and i got upset and i insulted her and at dinner i did it again. then, i confessed to her and she rejected me, and god, it is the worst emotion i have felt since you died. i feel sick and it hurts and i just,” he whimpers, “i just wish you were here still, haibara.” 

there is silence. of course there is. he is talking to a stone.

“i really, really messed it up, and i wish i could take it all back because she is absolutely wonderful.” he sighs, “of course, it is much too late for that.” still, silence. “i must get going, there is much to do.” he stands up and sighs, wiping the tears from his eyes quickly. “i will come to visit you again soon.”

true to his word, kento visits his friend everyday for the next week. some days he talks to him and tells him how choso and yuuji are doing, others he sits there and cries, and few times he has brought paper out to write.

there are hundreds of speeches he has written out and almost sent to you, expressing himself, and all of them have ended up crumpled and thrown into the trash. you asked him to leave you alone, and as much as it is killing him, he would rather die lonely than face any sort of argument with you again.

he decides he needs a weekend away, so after packing his bags and leaving the boys in the care of satoru, he sets off to a small cabin his father owned in the woods not too far from the estate. far enough that he'll be left alone, but close enough that if needed, he can return within a day.

yuuji, yearning for yuko, sends a letter the week before kento leaves. it asks her to come over, and yuko would have agreed almost immediately if not for the fact that she needs a chaperone.

you refuse immediately. “no, yuko, my answer is final. i refuse to visit the itadori’s’. please, forgive me.”

“please, friend.” she pleads, “no one else is available and yuu said that kento would be going on vacation! you would not even have to deal with him, please.”

“you are sure kento will not be there?” you raise a brow, the idea becoming a bit sweeter now that kento is not there.

“i swear. look.” she holds out yuuji’s letter, pointing out where he mentions kento’s absence. 

yuko’s eyes brim with hope as you reconsider. “fine. i will go with you, but just for the weekend.”

you arrive friday evening, when the sun has set and dinner has been served. kento had just left that morning according to the boys, so you will be free of him and his incessant behavior.

some small part of you ached though, for their constant bickering. the look in his eyes when he'd told you he loved you has haunted you, and caused many sleepless nights.

 you’re beginning to wonder if you had made the wrong decision. 

he was wealthy, sure, but one could tell he cared for his wards. he was intelligent and he had an affinity for the arts, and was well-spoken. but does any of that really outweigh his behavior? you wonder.

it was as if your thinking about kento summoned him. 

“oh. hello.” his voice sounds strained and you turns around to find kento standing there, his fists clenched at his side. “i was unaware you would be here.”

“i did not mean to intrude. yuuji and choso told me that you were gone for the weekend. i will make haste and leave as soon as i can.” you stand up, dusting off your dress. “my apologies, mr. nanami.”

“kento.” he clears his throat, “please. just call me kento. you do not have to leave, either. i was going for a walk around the grounds before i retreat to my office. i will be out of your way, as per your wish.” he takes a small bow, refusing to meet your eyes. “it's.. pleasure … it's a pleasure to see you again.” he stutters, and then turns away quickly.

“mr. nana–- kento.” you reach out to tap his shoulder, and the jolt through his body does not go unnoticed by you., “may i walk with you?”

he looks nervous, and his eyes flit around. “of course. i was going to.. visit my friend. i am,” he gulps, taking a deep breath, “i am sure he would love to meet you.”

“oh.” you smile softly, “i have not seen him around, though, i have only been here for a day.”

“i have told him much about you.” his voice is soft, as the two of you begin your walk. you are so close in proximity that your hands keep brushing together, and everytime they do, you watch his breathing seize.

you think you have killed him when you grab his hand and he stumbles over his own footing. “we should– - you should not be holding my hand, you are.. you are eligible and i- i am not courting you and–-”

“do you want me to stop?” you ask softly. in response, his hand squeezes yours softly as if to say, ‘please don't let go.’

you walk in a comfortable silence for another couple of minutes, hand in hand, before reaching the small magnolia field. 

“here we are.” he clears his throat, letting go of your hand. “my. .. my friend. i know, it is embarrassing that i speak to a gravestone, but. .. i have no one else to confide in.” he looks for any worry or fear in your face, and he finds nothing. nothing but compassion and kindness.

“i do not think it is silly.” you smile softly, “i think it is perfectly alright. that is your friend, after all.” you crouches down next to the stone, brushing your fingers over his name. “haibara. it is very nice to meet you, mr. haibara. there is no doubt in my mind that you were an excellent man.”

“you are going to dirty your dress.” kento frowns, “you do not have to sit.” his heart is pounding a million miles a minute, and he thinks it could not be any louder. he is sure you can hear it. 

“nonsense.” you smile, waving him off. “it would be rude of me to stand and speak to him.” 

watching your speak to his closest friend’s gravestone with such compassion makes him tear up. he knew that he loved you for a reason, and the fact that you started speaking to haibara with no questions asked simply hammered it home for him.

“i am only here for a day or two more,” kento is thrown out of his thoughts by your voice, “but i must say this estate is lovely. i do not even think my home rivals this.” you laugh, and the sound flutters in his stomach, “it is gorgeous.”

there is silence for a moment as you looks up at kento. he's standing over you with his fists clenched and in near tears and you just shake your head. “you should be very proud of kento.” you says loud enough for him to hear, as you make eye contact with him, “he is doing a wonderful job raising yuuji and choso. you have a wonderful friend.”

kento turns his back from you, but you can see the shaking of his shoulders and hear him clear his throat.. “my apologies, please, excuse me.” he sniffles, “i am a little overwhelmed.”

it hits you now. kento has every reason to be as cynical and as rude as he is– - life has not been goodwell to him. he has grown up without a mother, and halfway through his life his father passed, and then his closest friend. add to that two wards that were thrown on top of his responsibilities and you have one struggling kento nanami.

“he is a wonderful man.” you project your voice so you can still hear him, “and i have been entirely nonsensical about him.” 

“pardon?” his voice cracks, making him cringe, but you still looks at him with that same soft expression. he is glad you cannot see his face right now, for all you would see is his despair. 

“i was wrong about you.” you stand, placing a hand on his shoulder. his back is still turned to you, and you respect his space, staying out of sight. “i was entirely wrong.” 

he closes his eyes and prays– - prays that this means what he thinks it does. “three words from you will silence me forever.” he whispers brokenly, “if you are not going to say it and mean it, please, just say it once so that i may replay it in my head for when you are gone.”

“i cannot.” his shoulders fall and his stomach sinks. you slides your hand down his arm to reach his hand, and  you squeeze. “i refuse to be the first time i declare my affections for you to be said to your back.”

he whips around almost immediately, and standing on your tiptoes, you cups his face with both of your hands. your thumbs wipe the tears from underneath his eyes.

“hello, handsome.” you smile and his head leans into your hand as he laughs with a little sniffle. “your smile suits you. i wish i could see it more often.”

he tries to duck his face away where you cannot see but you keeps it sturdy in your hands. “do not shy away from me, i want to see your face. there you are.” you smiles., “i apologize for my misunderstanding of your character. i said some harsh things that i am realizing now that i did not mean, and i am hoping you could forgive me. i am pleading.”

“you do not have to apologize. ever. it is my fault for being immature. my answer remains the same as it did a few weeks ago– - if you will have me, then i will be yours. no-now, and forever.” he rushes his words and you let go of his face with a nod and he blinks at you, his face swelling with joy. 

“it is a deal, then.” you laughs, “forever is quite a long time though, kento. 

“it will not be nearly enough time for me to spend with you. there will never be enough time.” he lifts your chin up to look at you. “god, you were plucked out of my dreams and put into my arms. i am the luckiest man on earth.”

you swat his arm gently., “you are magnificent with your words when they are not shooting to kill,.” you say lightly. your cheeks are beginning to hurt from smiling, but you do not care.

“my words will be soft and sweet for you, always,.” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ears, “from this point on.”

“i was just about to mention how they have not been in the past.”

“and for that, i will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” he kisses your hand, and keeps eye contact the entire time. “every minute of every day. i love you.” 

there it was.

“i love you,” he kisses your knuckles, “i love you,” he kisses your palm, “i love you,” up your arm, “i love you,” on your left cheek, “i love you,” right cheek, “i love you,” nose, “i love you.”

and finally, his hands coming up to cradle your head, he presses a promising kiss to your lips.  “i love you. forever.” 

[pakunod-a]

Silly Prom Night

Prompt: It's prom night! What do these men do in the ballroom? 🤨

Pairing: Overblot boys x Reader

Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil (I) [here]

Vil, Idia, Malleus (II) [here]

CW: Random stuff, not really fanfiction-ish, more like drabbles, some shorter than others lolololololololololol Reader is referred to as You and Yuu. Reader is described to wear a gown, other than that it's gender-neutral if you don't mind the fabric gap. Bad English because I'm not a native English speaker :( not proof-read, random as FUCK and characters might seem very ooc if they do I blame my not-so-American education

Notes: entire work is based off of stuff that happened to me last night at prom, and i was thinking about various characters that would probably fit the profile of all the mishaps that happened to me last night lolololol

Work under the cut :)

Riddle Rosehearts !

You were sitting at your table, waiting for the buffet service to end so you could take the dance floor.

Well, it's not like anyone's dancing with you.

To be fair, you were supposed to be partnered with a first-year, who got sick the night before, so he couldn't make it. Poor lad.

It was horribly long, it felt like a very, very long time.

It took around thirty minutes for the dance to start, and everybody's got a partner.

All, except for you.

What a bummer.

Wait, is that the housewarden of Heartslabyul, in the corner, without anyone asking him to dance?!

Let's go fix that. 🏃

You ask him if he wants to dance, and he simply says;

"No."

"Come on, it's a ball, you're supposed to dance. You're getting there whether you like it or not. This long ass dress won't stop me from dragging you on the dance floor."

You ended up having a half-hearted Riddle dance with you.

Honestly, the way he held you felt like he wasn't interested at all, let alone happy. It felt like he was disgusted by your presence.

Every time you'd look at him, he would have an unpleasant look on his face, and aim his gaze elsewhere.

After the dance is over, and everyone returns to their seats, and you get a notification from your phone on Magicam. It was Cater, tagging you in a post.

"So cute! I'm vouching for RiddeYuu next year. #RiddeYuu #YuuRid"

..huh. Attached to the post was a video, and a bunch of hashtags you swear you didn't care about. You clicked the video, thinking that it was some kind of impractical prank being played on you.

Oh boy.

Boy, were you wrong.

In the video, it was you and Riddle dancing together on the dance floor. Riddle was a mess, blushing and shying away from all the lights. He had a small smile, as he evaded your gaze whenever you looked at him. He seemed genuinely happy to dance with you.

Maybe he wasn't disgusted after all.

Maybe he really did love dancing with you.

Leona Kingscholar !

You couldn't count the number of times this guy stepped on the hem of your train.

It's like your hair being pulled out of your skull, except it's your entire body being pulled back like a slingshot.

It wasn't the most fun experience.

Then, you had to pick a partner to dance with for the nth time this evening.

Your feet hurt already, how much more dancing?

Surprisingly, even though you had little to no interest in dancing, a certain sleepy lion approaches you with a scowl on his face.

"C'mon herbivore, chop chop. Vargas says I gotta dance for extra credit. You look like you could use it too."

This feels and sounds condescending.

He's pretty nice to dance with, doesn't step on the hem of your train anymore, nor does he step on your feet.

On the contrary, he scoops up the longer part of your train whenever you'd have a hard time walking somewhere.

Other times, he straight up carries you like you're a cat.

It's funny, really.

There was this one instance where you mentioned you wanted ice cream.

He set you down on his chair near his party's table, and disappeared. He actually came back with half-eaten ice cream

You love your sleepy lion, even if he seems a little TOO catty at times. :)

You eventually got too tired to dance, and just sat down. Leona napped on your shoulder.

How sickeningly cute.

Azul Ashengrotto !

Where there is bank to be made, Azul Ashengrotto's the merchant's name.

Seriously, this guy's part of the catering group for the buffet.

Bro did NOT stop making deals at a school function. The grind never stops, respect for that.

You'll probably end up selling your kidney and a lung if you stayed there any longer.

Buuuuut, he does need a dancing partner.

So what say you, if he offered you a slice of mango graham cake and a cup of coconut jelly with a side of gelato in exchange for a dance?

Hell yeah. sorry to the readers that dont have a sweet tooth, have some roasted garlic and onions.

He wasn't too bad honestly, never stepped on your feet once.

You do remember having two gold bracelets on your hands.

He admired one for a quick moment, and it seemed to disappear.

Now, he wouldn't go around stealing stuff from anybody.

No no.

He found it on the floor, while you were too busy dancing.

You want it back?

"Three more dances. Then I'll give you your bracelet back. After all, what's a precious bracelet in exchange for a few dances, no?~"

"You're wasting my time, screw you."

You ended up dancing with him, ten times.

Not thrice.

Ten.

Bro just exploited the jewelry glitch, and wore you out all night.

"Oh, poor Yuu, however will you get back home? If you promise to help out at Mostro Lounge, I'll have you home in a jiffy—"

Thud.

You fell on the ground, snoring.

Oh. You're asleep now. That's convenient.

Don't worry, he'll carry you back home to Ramshackle, free of charge.

After all, dancing with him all night must've tired you out.

He'll just repay the favor.

Surely, that would be the more gentlemanly thing to do.

Jamil Viper !

Would you believe me if I said this guy was in the corner, squinting his eyes as he looked for someone?

Oh. Dude must be looking for Kalim. Fortunately for him, he's over by the second-year's table, away from him.

Hold on.

Away from him???

But the Octotrio sits at that very table.

The Leech twins and Azul Ashengrotto himself?!

Hell no!

Jamil sprints half a mile across the ballroom in an attempt to sweep Kalim away.

"You shouldn't be sitting with them. They're not exactly the type of people you should be socializing for this type of event."

Not even a few seconds later, Kalim trips on a giant camera stand.

He face-planted into the ground, his nose bleeding from hitting the ground too hard. He still has that stupidly goofy smile on his face.

It honestly gives you cuteness aggression.

He had to be brought to the infirmary.

Poor Jamil, he really doesn't get a break.

It's not until he gets dragged to the dance floor, does he leave Kalim's side.

Let me tell you, once this guy relaxes, DAMN can he dance.

He could be blindfolded and spun around five times, and he'd STILL have the balance and elegance of a ballerina.

Work it girl, show those students who's boss.

note: "which events were these inspired from?" oh wow i thought youd never ask let me give you a tour of my brain juice i used to write this real quick and indulge myself in an immersive storytelling 🤜💥🧱

For Riddle: when i got called up for my award, there was a boy who also won the same award in the male category. we were instructed to dance together, for the Royalty dance. i thought he was disgusted because i was holding him, so i felt uncomfortable dancing with him. in a video posted by my schoolmate, they tagged me in a video of him looking at the camera and smiling as he waved. he looked half pale and half pink.

For Leona: while dancing for the "waltz" part of the prom, i felt hungry and told my dancing partner i was hungry, but they wouldnt let me back into the buffet because my dress almost took up the entire line for the buffet, so i either had to ask someone to get it for me or have my homeroom teacher get it for me. he eventually sat me on a chair, and ran back with ice cream from the dessert bar. he did eat the whipped cream and cherries, so i made him go back and get another.

For Azul: this one student was working behind the counter at the buffet, and he was jokingly stealing his dance partner's earrings, necklace, and bracelets while she wasnt looking. he said it costs three waltzes for a singular piece of jewelry to be reclaimed, but if she danced to a budots remix, she'd get everything back. she waltzed for more than seven times until she collapsed onto a couch and snored for an hour straight. she did get her jewelry back, and she resumed dancing with our Azul-like classmate.

For Jamil: i saw someone slip and their friend was scolding them for not being careful. he sat down at the table full of people who dont like him, and he got an earful from his friend on why he shouldnt sit there. his friend reminded me of Jamil so much, i had to write him like that.

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I saw you have requests open for Homicipher! Could I ask for a drabble with Mr. Gap? I feel like he's underrated but he's my favorite. Maybe a first kiss with him?

⊱ Connection ⊰ || Mr. Gap X Reader

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Character(s): Mr. Gap (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Return End), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and horror-elements), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms (Reader briefly uses physical pain to distract themselves from their emotional discomfort; they also sleep to avoid their emotions), Creature/Monster X Human Relationship (Mr. Gap doesn’t fully comprehend or understand the concept of love the way that humans do, but that’s a barrier for, like… the majority of the cast haha). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Slight Angst, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,685 Request: “Hi!! I saw you have requests open for Homicipher! Could I ask for a drabble with Mr. Gap? I feel like he's underrated but he's my favorite. Maybe a first kiss with him?” Author’s Note: Yipee, my first Homicipher request! Thank you for sending one in! I find Mr. Gap’s character quite entertaining – I loved the running gag of him asking the MC for different parts of their body and being like “for real?” whenever you said no. I found his desire to brag to be quite endearing, too, strangely enough. A lot of the moments that had me chuckling involved Mr. Gap, so I’m somewhat fond of his character as a result. I haven’t written any horror-meets-romance stories since my Creepypasta days, so I apologize if this is a little rough or OOC. I’m still trying to finish the game and digest all the lore haha. 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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Living within the other world had become your new normal at this point, even if you spent most of your days curled under the covers of whatever bed you could find. You slept whenever you had the chance. It wasn’t necessarily because you were tired, but rather a desire to keep your mind from wandering too much. You still found the occasional earthquakes and frequently shifting dimly-lit hallways confusing to traverse at best or frustrating to deal with at worst, but you hoped you would slowly grow to get used to them with more time. 

You run your hands down your face as you lay on the strangely pristine white bed, staring down at the blue bag that rested by your feet on the floor. For whatever reason, there was a strange feeling of loneliness that was deep-seated in your chest. It was a weight pulling you down, and it was one that had lingered for quite some time now. 

When you returned to the other world, you realized that you would most likely never be able to see Mr. Silvair or Mr. Crawling again. Despite telling yourself it was fine, that life was all about encounters and departures, that horrendous emptiness in your heart hadn’t diminished yet. 

You remember when Mr. Gap brought you back to the other world in exchange for a heart – your mind is conflicted when you think about the organ you had given him, a heart that wasn’t yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to think about it for longer than you need to. 

You try to remember his hand reaching out from the dark void of the bag after arriving in the strange world once more. You remember the way his cold palm felt against your scalp, lightly patting your hair in a way you thought was meant to be comforting… only for him to state he wanted your head with that jokester-esque grin of his. 

You chuckle quietly to yourself at the memory of the expression that crossed his face whenever you told him that, no, he’s not allowed to take your fingers or whatever else seems to pique his interest at the moment. Then, your mind remembers the look on his face when you asked if he was worried about you. Mr. Gap didn’t seem as though he was capable of experiencing emotions the way that most humans were, but, well… it was someone to talk to, at least, even if you run the risk of him asking for an organ or body part or hair. What did he even do with that stuff, anyway? 

Letting out a deep sigh, your eyes fall to the bag on the floor. He really only appeared whenever he wanted, but maybe you could see if he was in the mood to at least startle you as he so often enjoyed doing. With a deep breath, you reach down and grab the bag by its black straps, feeling the somewhat rough fabric against your palms. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, per se, but it was a reminder that at least you could still feel. 

You open the carrier, and the only thing that greets you is that inky blackness. You briefly wonder if it was an infinite darkness held within the unassuming gym bag, and what would happen if you just threw random things inside for the fun of it. However, as you stare into the void, a familiar face pops into view, effectively startling you out of your trance. 

Mr. Gap smiles even wider at your reaction, seemingly proud of himself for still managing to startle you. You’d think that you would be more immune to jumpscares after spending so much time in the other world, but apparently not. 

“Scared you.” Mr. Gap speaks proudly, the language you had slowly been absorbing over your journey becoming easier and easier to decipher and remember. That was good at least, you thought. It would be far too difficult to live in a place where you couldn’t even understand what everyone was saying. 

You roll your eyes at him, speaking under your breath but loud enough so he could hear your muttering, “You’re rude, you know that?”

He stares up at you with an unimpressed expression, waiting for you to speak again. Eventually, you tell him with a frown, speaking to him in a language he understood, “You mean.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, yet he seemingly did not take any offense to your comment. Then, his gaze returns to your face, and you two simply stare at each other in a prolonged silence. Well, now what? How exactly do you explain to a creature that you were lonely when they probably couldn’t even empathize with what you were experiencing? Did you even know the word for lonely in their language, if there was one?

“I, umm…” You pause, taking a moment to try and figure out the words to say, averting your gaze to a crack in the concrete flooring of the room you had made into your makeshift home. Mr. Gap is surprisingly patient, staring up at you while your hands begin to fidget with the textured straps of the bag. You look back down at him and say, your voice is surprisingly soft, “I upset. Want talk.”

Then, almost as if on cue, he smiles and reaches a hand out of the bag, making a grabbing motion as he asks, “Give heart?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure what else you were expecting, and now you felt like an idiot for expecting literally anything else to come out of his mouth. You frown deeply and quickly zip up the bag, disregarding the shocked expression on his face at the action, before tossing it on the floor without a second thought. You let out a groan, clawing your hands down your face while trying to ignore the stinging sensation your nails left in their wake across your skin.

At least the pain raking across your flesh was a distraction from the ache in your chest. 

You decide, once more, to take a nap. Whenever your mind was racing or the thoughts became too much to bear, you slept. Honestly, there wasn’t much else you could do here. After all, you weren’t in the mood to go around swinging at anything and everything with your crowbar, especially since you had vowed to only use it in self-defense. This world was your home now, and you didn’t want to make enemies who would, in return, only make your existence more miserable. 

You close your eyes and attempt to drift off into the world of dreams, a place that wasn’t this world nor the one you came from, yet your attention is grabbed by the feeling of something shifting under the covers. Your eyes fly open faster than light as your fist grabs the thick comforter, lifting it quickly while your other hand went to grab the crowbar you kept by your bedside. 

However, Mr. Gap’s face comes into view, and your hand pauses as soon as your fingers graze across the rusted metal of your weapon. You frown deeply and tell him with a sternness in your tone, “I told you to stop doing that – I’m going to accidentally kill you one of these days.”

“Why upset?” He asks you suddenly, and it’s a question that has your mind stopped in its tracks. You hadn’t been expecting him to come back so soon, let alone ask you a question like that. For a moment, you wonder if he was worried about you, only for the memory of the last time you asked him that question to pop into your head. 

You lay there, staring at the darkness under the covers, debating on whether or not you should tell him your true feelings. After some moment of contemplation, you decide to try and speak with him about what you have been experiencing. After all, the worst thing that would probably happen is him asking for your heart again or something. 

“I…” You start, pausing for a moment to swallow, your tongue strangely heavy in your mouth, “No home. I lonely.”

Mr. Gap’s brows furrow and he states plainly, “This home.”

Just as you thought, he didn’t understand. If anything, your statement only seemed to confuse him further. His expression was also different, one you hadn’t quite seen on him before. You had seen him shocked, smug, and displeased, but the look on his face appeared almost… frustrated? 

You begin to try and snake your way out from under the covers, feeling like going on a walk now instead of trying to take a nap. However, the room suddenly goes dark as Mr. Gap pulls you back under the sheets, covering your entire body in the surprisingly soft duvet. For a moment, you feel panic swell in your veins and you wonder if something you had said upset him to the point of wanting to kill you. However, no pain ever came. You just heard his voice state once more, “This home.”

“No, I know it’s my home now, I just…” You speak, your mind going through word after word, attempting to translate what you want to tell him in his language. It was a little unnerving, being unable to see anything in the darkness that now enveloped your body. You pushed that anxiety aside, though, telling Mr. Gap, “I… miss touch. Miss connection. This world different – lonely.” 

There’s once again no reply, and soon the feeling of another under the sheets disappears. You let out a long sigh as you remove yourself from under the covers, Mr. Gap no longer under the blanket with you. You take a moment to compose yourself before standing up from the bed and grabbing your reliable crowbar – it was walking time.

You walked and walked in circles until your legs felt ready to collapse, returning to your makeshift base after what seemed like hours. You fell face-first onto the bed, your crowbar slipping from your hand to the concrete floor with a loud clatter; you probably would have cringed at the noise if not for the exhaustion in your bones. There’s a long stretch of silence, and you feel sleep start to creep into your mind, when a simple “Hello” snaps you out of your stupor. 

You turn your head from where it was nuzzled into a pillow to look down at the bag you had tossed to the floor earlier, seeing Mr. Gap peeking up at you from inside. You wonder if you should say anything back before eventually relenting, echoing to him the same greeting. 

There’s a shuffling noise, the sound of paper being crinkled before you watch as he pulls out what appears to be a magazine, holding it out for you to take. You sit up in the bed and look down at him with a blank expression, saying with your lips pulled into a flat line, “No head. No finger. No heart–”

“Not want anything.” He replies, effectively cutting you off as he holds out the magazine closer to you. It seems as though he can read the expression of pure disbelief on your face before he clarifies, “Take paper. You have.”

Despite some reservations, you eventually do reach out and take the small book from his grasp, whispering your thanks. It’s a relatively new magazine, surprisingly, and only the edges of the glossy paper seemed crinkled. You flip through the pages, wondering what information you were supposed to be deriving from the book. After all, it didn’t seem like anything special–...

Then, a picture of two people hugging appeared. Two humans, holding each other in a tight embrace with bright and happy smiles on their faces. One was kissing the other’s cheek, and the mere sight alone caused your breath to hitch. Oh, it seemed like ages since the last time you felt the level of comfort with another like the people in the picture, and there was a part of yourself that regretted coming back. It wasn’t like you belonged in your world anymore, either… you really were a monster with nowhere to call home, weren’t you?

“Why upset?” Mr. Gap asks, his voice surprisingly gentle. You look down at him and wonder how he knew you were hurting. Then, you heard the sound of something hitting the pages of the magazine in your hand. Your gaze returns to the book below you, noticing the water droplets that had fallen down your cheeks and onto the magazine, causing the ink on the paper to bleed slightly. You quickly wipe your face yet, before you can do anything else, two arms wrap around your waist and your body is once again shrouded in the darkness under the covers as Mr. Gap pulls you under.

His body is cold to the touch, you note, yet it’s not an unpleasant sensation. Before you have the chance to speak, you hear Mr. Gap tapping the page of the magazine in your hand, asking you quietly, “You want that? Touch?”

“Do I… want a hug?” You ask him, wishing you had the ability to see in the dark. You hum and lay your head back, enjoying the softness of the pillow underneath your skull, “I want good touch.”

You close your eyes and wait, expecting Mr. Gap to ask for something in return or simply disappear… but he doesn’t, and you find your eyes flying open when you feel his arms wrap around your torso. His touch was experimental, uncertain as his palms rested against your lower back. His head is resting on your stomach and although you cannot see him, you know he is staring at your face through the darkness. 

You suddenly find yourself becoming choked up, the tears forming in your eyes as your arms instinctively wrap around him as well, holding him close to your body like one would hold a stuffed toy. Mr. Gap makes a strangled noise, yet you don’t let up on your hold. You sit up on the bed, dragging him along with you, before nuzzling your face into what you assumed was his neck. 

He’s completely frozen, his hold on you never once faltering yet never once tightening, either. A part of you wonders if you broke him or something, especially considering he had never really been the physically affectionate type. You both sit like this under the covers for a long time, and you eventually feel his body and muscles relax under your touch. 

While the ache in your chest wasn’t gone, it had definitely diminished as you both held onto each other with a tinge of desperation in both of your actions. You let out a sigh, and you feel Mr. Gap shiver as your warm breath fans against his cold skin. The dried tear stains on your cheeks made your skin feel tight, but you smiled nevertheless as you whispered to him, “Thank you. I grateful – happy.”

Your hand reaches up, cupping his cheek in your palm as you slowly guide his face to yours. Oh, how you wish you could have seen his expression as you placed a kiss on his cheek, your slightly chapped lips pressing against his marred flesh. You feel him jolt, and you wonder if he’ll disappear right then and there. He doesn’t though, and instead, you feel his hands remove themselves from your hips to hold your face in his grasp. 

Instinctively, you close your eyes, and you feel the slight tremble in his fingers as he leans closer. You smile softly, finding his nervous demeanor to be quite cute considering how smug he tended to be. Then, you felt it, his lips against your cheek. 

Mr. Gap’s lips were in even worse shape than yours, but you found yourself not caring in the slightest as he placed shockingly gentle kisses against the apple of your cheek. You giggle at the sweet action, the noise of your laughter egging him on as his kisses become more confident and more frequent. You do the same, placing feather-light kisses against his skin, whispering to him as you pepper his face in smooches, “Happy, happy, happy...”

[taifenggg]

Helloooo, I have a request (you can ignore it if you want!), how about a scenario like the one in the song "Why'd you only call me when you're high?" from Arctic Monkeys? I was listening to it and it came to my mind 🤭🤭(Obey Me! characters ; little smut please ♡)

Content Warning(s): NSFW, swearing lol, mentions of being drunk,, slightly ooc characters? :/

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned)

Authors Notes: hi there, idk if i did this request justice but i tried my best! you didnt specify which characters youd like so i took the liberty of choosing them, hope thats alright ^^

nsfw under the cut! minors dni or i will block you :)

Reminder to abide by my guidelines for NSFW content tysm :]

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drabble under the cut!

It's fairly obvious how much he loves you.

He's completely and utterly infatuated with you. Even now, as he collapses onto his bed, not completely drunk but slightly tipsy and buzzed. Thoughts of you occupy his mind. You are all he thinks about, even in his hazy stupor.

Even as he's leaning against pillows stacked neatly on his bed, desperately fisting his cock into his hand, wishing it was your hand instead of his. His moans come out breathy, his chest rising and falling as he pants out your name. His bangs cling to his face, and despite everything he does he struggles to keep his noises down. There's no doubt in his mind that at any second, someone could burst through the door and see just what he was up to, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Fuck MC-" he whines keeling over slightly as he edges himself, on the brink of his release, but purposefully slowing down. He can see your face, your smile, the way your lips quirk up into a smirk. His mind wanders and he envisions you, between his legs, smiling up at him oh so innocently as you jack him off. He shudders at the thought, feeling heat rush to his face.

More I get through the gears Incapable of makin' alright decisions And havin' bad ideas

He shouldn't be thinking about you like this, and he would be lying to himself if he claimed he didn't feel guilty over getting off to the fantasy of you helping him out. But he's in too deep. You're like quicksand, the more he struggles, the more you draw him in.

"Shit-!" he gasps out, his body shuddering as he releases messily all over his stomach. His hands still as he catches his breath, the post-nut clarity starting to catch up to him, seemingly sobering him up. He groans softly as he presses his hands to his face, his cheeks seemingly burning even more.

After some debating with himself, he picks up his phone, swiping to your contact, shooting you a quick text.

'MC, I know it's late but I really need to see you right now. It's urgent.'

He tosses his phone over to the side, groaning softly as he leans back more against his bed, waiting for your response. Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait too long. A notification from his phone startles him as he scrambles to clean himself up as best as he can before reaching over and unlocking his phone, seeing a new text message from you.

'I heard you went drinking and got kind of wasted, you should probably rest.'

He grimaces slightly before responding back to you.

'Please.'

He watches as your three dots jump up and down for a bit, and he imagines you formulating your response. And sure enough, you respond.

You said you gotta be up in the morning Gonna have an early night .... Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?

Another pause.

'Fine, I'm coming over now.'

After all, who were you to deny your favorite boy, especially when he's especially needy for you?

MAMMON, Leviathan, ASMODEUS, Beelzebub, Simeon, Solomon

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