->not new, most links will take you to the prev blog because i suffer from ilazy and will not repost for the time being
-> no consistent interest it swings wildly depending on who or what i'm fixated on at the moment
-> case in point, current fixation(s) - bsd, mdzs & hsr with strong emphasis on fukuzawa yukichi, jiang cheng (apologist), wen ning, boothill, mydei & jing yuan + a little bit of t1
-> mostly reblogs, rarely posts unless a bsd chapter comes out or i need to store a hi3 elysian realm guide
-> send in asks about any of the above characters i WILL answer i LOVE yapping and writing about them
-> unretired hsr & hi3 player, hoping to get back to wuwa soon
-> carrd for more including ao3 - here
-> old drabbles masterlist (longer fics on ao3 only, some drabbles cross posted here and on ao3) - here
-> new drabbles masterlist - here
-> guide masterlist - here
-> tag system... will be sorted out. sometime in the future.
tags -> fluff, reader implied smaller than fukuzawa, mutual teasing, reader is a bit of a brat, have i mentioned fluff, fukuzawa is whipped + calls reader darling, non sexual bathing together, fukuzawa referred to as yukichi, not proofread
bsd 125.5 dropped and it took me a week to access it but hes been released from deathbait and i dropped everything to write this in record time and forgot to post it but here it is
Yukichi who in recent months has started to return at odd hours throughout the night more frequently, quiet clicks of doors closing and the clack of his shoes being placed next to decidedly daintier mary janes as his clothes rustle. Haori slipping off his shoulders as he heads into his shared bedroom. As with most nights these days, he stumbles home at what could only be considered an ungodly hour, Yukichi’s weary, yet guarded heart and soul softens and relaxes at the sight of his beloved, fast asleep in their bed. The duvet is mussed as always, a leg haphazardly thrown over as the rest of her body remains shrouded by the blanket, and the almost comical aspect of his brings a smile to Yukichi’s face as he strides over, footsteps soft; but this time, not for the purpose of causing harm.
Instead, he reaches over, calloused, yet warm hands stroking away the strands of hair that fell over her face, no doubt due to her occasional stirring as he presses a gentle kiss to her now exposed forehead.
“I’m home.”
Comes a soft, yet husky murmur into her ear.
Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t stir, still held by the clutches of slumber but Yukichi doesn’t mind. In spite of craving her voice, her touch, her affection like wolves craved the warmth in the cold night, he lets her sleep. There’s something calming about watching as she sleeps on, and something that soothes Yukichi’s heart watching the rise and fall of her chest, knowing that in this moment, she was very much alive, and safe.
With him.
Thus he sits, perched on her side of the bed, hands having long strayed back to his side as he soothes himself with the sight of the one person more precious to him than both the Agency and Ranpo combined. It takes him a few minutes to summon the strength to leave, making his way to the bathroom for a long deserved shower.
After which, hair still wet and body still damp, he crawls into bed, scarred yet loving arms circling her waist, bringing her closer to him, until he can feel the warmth of her breath on his clavicle where his yukata had shifted from his movements. Until she’s fully embraced in his arms, so close that if she were any closer she’d be in Yukichi’s skin.
Not that he’d be complaining, really.
When she awakes the next day, she’s greeted with a familiar scent of shower gel, softening Yukichi’s natural musk, her head cradled in the crook of his neck as he sleeps. For once, there is nothing but tranquility on his face; the tired lines and dark circles that lay under his eyes from years of late nights and obscene amounts of stress doing nothing to dull the beauty of his chiseled jaw and the soft eyelashes that fluttered gently when she shifts slightly. Yukichi groans a little, sleep still blanketing his every movement as he shifts her even closer, and she can only reciprocate – cheek nuzzling into his neck. The gesture is met with a small chuckle, his eyes not opening once as he lazily shifts his own head, mildly chapped lips pressing themselves into her hair.
“A little longer, my darling.”
She huffs, unable to deny him.
And really, who could – Yukichi wears a soft, rare smile on his face, the edges of his lips just barely curved in spite of his eyes remaining closed. The only indicator he was anywhere near to being conscious.
But there was beauty in the way faint lines crinkled across his eyes, the only reminder that there had been a period in Yukichi’s life where he’d smiled just as much as he did now with her. If anything, they leave her mesmerized. Small, yet palpable reminders of the full life he’d lived, and before she can stop, she finds herself reaching for him. Caressing the soft skin of his face, admiring the way he relaxes into her touch, a small sigh of what she could only call relief accompanying.
Eventually, her hands stray, fingers gently playing with his silver locks as she murmurs,
“Missed you.”
The hand on her waist begins to draw slow circles as Yukichi hums in return.
“I missed you too. More than you could ever imagine.”
“Yeah?”, a small giggle follows, and Yukichi cracks open an eye at this.
There’s a teasing look on her expression, and he can only prepare himself.
“That must be why you leave me for so long. So you’ll miss me more.”
This, he chuckles at.
“Yes, I work long hours so I can think about holding my darling in my arms instead of coming back to her.”
A faint blush settles on her cheeks the more Yukichi murmurs into her hair, the deep timbre of his voice simultaneously soothing and sending shivers down her spine. It’s intoxicating, really, and Yukichi’s morning voice never helps; his voice huskier than normal, an unusually rough edge to it. But in spite of that, there’s a tenderness in his voice that no one else gets to hear. The kind of sweet talk voice that would have any woman head over heels for him, and yet it’s reserved for no one else but her. All she can do is splutter, Yukichi taking pride in the fact that it was so easy for him to fluster her. But in spite of the teasing nature of her initial words, he knows there’s some worry to it.
After all, even if Yukichi was incapable of being harmed – infallible, in her eyes – he was still just a man. Someone who would always be worn out at the end of the day, perhaps even more so given the usual shenanigans the detective agency would get up to on any normal day. A person who was not, and would never be immune to neither accidents nor death. It’s something Yukichi knows, his first promise to her after having finally chalked up the courage to stumble through his first, honest confession of his affections to the love of his life being,
“I promise I won’t die. Never before you.”
And it’s one he’s held on to at every available moment, guard constantly up when out and about, even if it’s the mundane such as grocery shopping or the odd errand he’d get sent on on his days off. Only ever relaxing when she’s by his side in the comfort of their home. When it feels like there’s nothing and no one else but them in this world, their cozy home and the warmth they share between each other.
They settle into a comfortable silence after Yukichi soothes her flustered state, the couple taking a good half hour before Yukichi finally decides it’s time to get ready. Muscles tensing as he hoists her into a bridal carry with little to no effort in spite of the bleary state he’d woken up in after having conveniently ignored her cries of, “five more minutes, Yukichi!!”.
Contrary to his unfazed reaction to her – quite frankly – half hearted attempts to refute the very soft and warm embrace he’s put her in, there’s a smoothness in the way he sets her down in the bathtub, following her in once he’s made sure she’s settled. It’s a true fight to not close her eyes and head back to dreamland as Yukichi presses his fingers into her scalp, massaging away the stress of the week. And it’s a fight Yukichi finds endearing to watch, amusement evident in his voice as he assures her it’s fine to sleep.
He finds it even funnier when she accepts with little to no difficulty, eyes settling closed and body relaxing even more as she takes in the sensation of Yukichi washing her hair for her. Not even the move from the bathtub to a dressing robe, and eventually to their dressing table is enough to coax her eyes awake. Even as Yukichi reaches for the hairdryer, the machine roaring to life as it made quick work of the water still entrenched within her hair, Yukichi taking care to ensure her roots were completely dry.
It doesn’t take long before she feels his hands run through her hair again, a leave in conditioner following the blow dry and he finishes it with a simple French braid – one he’d been taught through hours of her braiding his hair, small murmurs of admiration at the way the silver would gleam brightly in the light. It was like a gem to her, and as a result Yukichi had never bothered to cut it. Calmly refusing offers even when it reached past his neck, long enough that he could feel it on his shoulders.
Anything to have her affection and attention ladled onto him at every given moment – even if it was merely fawning over the beauty of his hair.
And as predicted, just as he finishes she turns to him, gently pulling his face closer and pressing a kiss to his nose. It’s accepted with a smile, and Yukichi angles his face so the second kiss lands on his lips. A gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by her, but she takes it in stride nonetheless.
It’s also precisely how Yukichi finds himself in the same position as she was in previously, sat at their dressing table, mere moments from falling asleep as she braids the longer sections of his layers into a braid. There’s something deeply addictive about the way she takes her time, a hum accompanying as her deft fingers work through his hair, occasionally brushing his scalp and for once, Yukichi thinks he’s reached heaven on earth.
Nevertheless, as they sit together eating a lunch they’d prepared together, Yukichi finds himself murmuring,
“I’ll try to come back earlier next time.”
She swallows, before replying.
“It’s okay. I was really just complaining for the sake of it.”
A white lie.
Something he was all too accustomed with, and as a result, he shakes his head.
“I’ll do it,” his gaze meets hers, nothing but sincerity and affection in his eyes, “if not for myself than anyone else.”
After all, god knows how many times he’d slumped over his desk whilst halfway through a stack of paperwork, eyes flitting to the picture he kept of them at his desk – one taken during a rare aquarium date – as he ruminated over the possibility of setting his work aside and returning early. Thoughts more frequent than he’d admit of wondering what she was up to. Whether she’d eaten, if she was working, if she’d come across any incidents throughout her day.
Yukichi knew that he couldn’t, but something about the thought of having her in his arms, trademark scent enveloping not just his nose but his very soul as she hummed whatever song she’d found to strike her fancy gave him the strength to straighten his posture. It motivated him to call out a gruff, “Come in.” to Naomi as she dropped by to bring him his afternoon tea, a knowing look in her eyes when he thanked her.
It really wasn’t a secret that the President was head over heels for a special someone, in spite of his lack of mentioning her. And it was even less of a secret that he’d often pine for her in the privacy of his office; the unmistakable look of longing evident in his eyes if they caught him staring at the picture on his desk.
Just as equally, not a single member of the agency could possibly miss the way their President had blitzed through the paperwork they’d deposited on his desk at 9AM that morning, a determined passion, if not fury in his eyes as he tackled each piece of paper. For once, he’d even wore his glasses. No doubt to ensure he didn’t miss anything whilst he skimmed, hands flying over each paper as he signed off or made quick corrections on some reports (namely, Ranpo’s). He finishes in a record of eight hours, and by 5PM on the dot Fukuzawa Yukichi is striding out of the office, announcing that unless there was an emergency there should be no calls reaching his phone that night before letting the door click behind him.
The situation is beyond baffling, Atushi and Kyouka exchanging looks of confusion as Dazai bursts into laughter. But there’s no bite behind it, and perhaps even a small bit of longing in his eyes as he mutters,
“Ah, love.”
If anything the person most shocked is her, jumping a little as she hears the door click at 5:45PM, before relaxing as she hears the sounds of Yukichi’s trademark homecoming routine, the man lumbering into the kitchen to greet his beloved. Arms wrapping around her figure as his chin rests on the crook of her shoulder, observing the curry she’d been in the process of making.
“I’m home.”
Is the first thing he says, and something about the domesticity of the way he murmurs it, wrapped around her like a weighted blanket all but melts her heart. She finds herself leaning into his embrace, deciding to abandon her questions about what he was doing back so early.
based on this pre-raphaelite painting https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/la-belle-dame-sans-merci-188451 by frank bernard dicksee
for ink and heartstrings zine https://chiluczine.carrd.co/ run by @whataboutno. i went into this with a pretty limited ability to paint metal or draw horses and, in my humble opinion, i thinki i did pretty good. tumblr kinda crunched the quality ... fuck my stupid baka life...
second time in a row ive scrolled across an x reader tag and come across a think piece abt shipping on the tag and icb i nearly forgot the block button existed for a second
cipher-pardo parallel thoughts since the 3.3 story has sat in my mind but sth sth seeing how pardo always had a form of imposter syndrome about being one of the fcs despite being one of, if not the weakest fc because they were all heroes capable of insane feats and pardo was just, well, pardo. a thief whose speciality was quite literally scammimg people. in this sense, shes different from cipher, who out of fear of fulfilling her own prophecy spent her life rather frugally. and though pardo dies a hero theres always a part of her that will feel like shes never good enough to be a fc. compare that to cipher, who was able to keep the flame reaver from getting close to the coreflame and managed to keep the dawn device running for longer than 3x the amt of time it was meant to go on for through her own abilities.
all that to say even though cipher dies, im glad that in another life, pardo is able to be more confident in her own abilities and herself, and that this time she wasn't quite so afraid of dying
