#shinobswrites

[midnightcircvs]

Happy White Day ღ

He made sure nobody caught him, when he sneaked into the Vice-Captain's office. Being short sometimes had it perks, although his bright hair surely made him stand out. But Inumaki was clever enough to pick a time during practice to slip out in secret and quickly make his way to Hoshina-san's room. If being asked what exactly he was thinking, while stuffing the little gift into the first drawer of the desk. This wasn't some highschool and he wasn't a highschool girl in love. They were still at war against the Kaiju's, were still fighting for their survival in this twisted world.

Yet he couldn't help but crush on the older man, always feeling the prickling on his skin whenever he's nearby. And as long as he wasn't caught it shouldn't be a problem in Inumaki's eyes. So when he successfully closed the drawer that now contained a wrapped up box with white chocolate covered strawberries and a little card that simply said: "Wishing you a tasty White Day!" Inumaki quickly made his way back to the practice room, proud of himself and a little blush on his cheeks. Hopefully Hoshina-san would like it.

Hm?

Upon entering his office Soshiro could immediately tell that someone had been in it. A cursory glance revealed that nothing obvious had been taken or misplaced but there was something... off about it anyway. Slowly he walked around his desk trailing a finger along the smooth wooden surface, lips quirked up as he spied a drawer that wasn't as aligned as its counterparts.

Carefully he opened it to reveal a box and a card. White Day? The phrase brought back memories of an easier time, a smile resting on Soshiro's features as he opened the box, inhaling the sweet scent of white chocolate. He had a hunch on who would dare had broken into his office and left the gift, but there was no way to prove it.

❝Cheeky... but cute.❞

[umbrakudo]

@shinobswrites​ liked for a one-liner!

“Stay focused, Hakuba-san. And stop staring at my lips.”

[tankeboksen]

@shinobswrites​

he’d say it’d been a while since he fucked up this badly, but somehow that seemed like a lie when in the mere presence of the strawhats. even a careful and meticulous guy like he was would find himself dragged into the shenanigans of the crew -- especially its captain -- and by now law wasn’t sure he’d accepted or simply acknowledged it for a fact. the seastone handcuffs around his wrists draining him of power made him even more grumpy than usual, his spirit weakened enough so it felt like a chore to simply remain standing. thus, he was seated, back against the wall, cold glance locked at the man who slept beside him, seemingly without a worry.

“oi,” he called out, unsure of whether the guy could hear him. not that it mattered either way. he’d face law’s complaints whether conscious or not. “how long do you intend to sleep for?” had he had the power to, he would have directed a light kick at the other as well, but for now, the sharp words would have to do.

[midnightcircvs]

┊┊┊ patron

for @shinobswrites

I want to go home...

As much as he needed this exposure, Haru wanted nothing more than to pack up his shit and leave. The gallery was too crowded for his taste making him feel mildly uncomfortable and out of his depth to say the least. Gently he tapped his glass full of lukewarm champagne, fingers fiddling with the stem as he stood silently off to side gazing at the well dressed people peering at the art pieces pretending that they understood exactly what the artist meant.

Hmph.

The pretentiousness was stifling but the rent wasn’t going to pay itself. He could do this. Hopefully there would be a buyer he could sucker into becoming his long term patron or something. Or he could find a boring office job that offered stability but killed his soul in the process. Just as Haru contemplated shrugging off the ill fitting blazer (courtesy of Makoto’s wardrobe) and hightailing out of there, he heard his name being called by the gallery owner.

A minute later he found himself introduced to a rather handsome man who looked like he swam around the upper echelon of society with ease. A man with deep pockets. Haru met his teal eyes impassively, calculating how much he could possibly ask for one of his paintings should the other be interested in making a purchase. ❝I’m Nanase Haruka and my primary medium is water colour and on occasion I dabble in digital painting. Nice to meet you.❞ He extended his hand for a shake.

[changqwi-aa]

[tousle] From Atsumu

            “  eek  !!  ”  reiko squeaks ,  hands moving to defend her hair from the other's hands  .  “  hey  !!  ”  she protests  ,  a pout taking to her lips as she looks at atsumu with displeasure in her gaze  .  “  it took so long to get it straightened out . . .  ”    she huffs  ,  though it had been entirely her fault for going to bed with her hair wet instead of drying it properly  .             trying to fix her messy hair  ,  reiko huffs in disdain when she sees atsumu’s smug face  .  combing her fingers through her hair  ,  trying to undo some of the knots that formed  ,  an idea strikes her  .  something she could do in revenge  .             “  hey . . . you wanna hear something interesting  ??  i overheard it when i was coming here  ,  ”  reiko gestures for the taller to lean down  ,  hoping atsumu doesn’t catch onto her idea  .

[regulus-regent]

"Whenever I see you, I wonder how it would be like if you were still there in my timeline." Future Trunks murmured under his breath, as they sit together to drink some bear.

Bulma had planned a get together party for her visiting son, gathering the dragon team along with a few of her work associates. Everyone had been inside, loud music, chatter, laughter, tv blasting. He’d only socialize as much as he could before grabbing the small cooler containing beer and sat himself outside. Vegeta wasn’t exactly sure when Trunks joined him but for once the prince didn’t mind the company. He’d grown to accept the boy as his own. Albeit the realization came in the worst way possible and the guilt that came along with Trunks death still loomed over him. Though he wasn’t exactly the type to verbally apologize, at the very least, not outright.

Glancing over, Vegeta grabbed a beer and threw it towards Trunks before grabbing one for himself. With a quick snap and fizzle from the canned drink Vegeta brought it up to his lips and took a sip. He’d stop midway, sharp hearing catching onto what Trunks had murmured. Vegeta lowered the drink frowning as he thought it over. 

That alternate timeline, Bulma had been left alone to raise Trunks. Reflecting on it now, he’d come close to dying on his own timeline, not just once but twice. Allowing Cell to reach his perfect form had nearly gotten everyone killed, and when Trunks had been given that fatal blow to his chest Vegeta had lost any semblance of sanity, going off into a blind rage that would have surely gotten him killed, had Gohan not interfered. 

He had failed horribly with his future teenage son. Vegeta was determined that the life of his infant son would be vastly different. And in doing so he'd scrap any ideas of leaving/destroying Earth behind. Choosing to stay, to raise his son, to make things right. As right as he could anyways.

“He would refuse to acknowledge you” Vegeta mused as he stared at the can on hand. Had things turned out differently, had he lived in that timeline, there was no doubt in his mind what his next set of words would have been true. “Considering how thick headed and stubborn you are...he would see some potential. Train you to reach that potential, push you further than your limits. Teach you about saiyan heritage..." Taking a quick gulp, he glanced over at his son. Even if Trunks was not able to experience these things in his own future, sure enough the events Vegeta had just spoken had already transpired in this one. That one year in the hyperbolic time chamber, though he hadn’t noticed at the time had bonded the two, at least on his end. Though he was short of one thing, teaching him about saiyan culture.

“What you’re feeling, its all just trivial. Thinking about the what ifs, will drive you crazy.”

A feeling he’d known all too well, the what ifs of killing Frieza, what if’s of his race never becoming enslaved, of becoming king. 

“Point is, what you experience with me now, is what I would have been in your timeline, whether you like it or not. Don’t expect for future me to have held your hand or hugged you for that matter.” 

[changqwi-aa]

"Hey, Shinobu. You like to read right? But ever had the thought that you basically just stare at a dead tree and hallucinate?"

            shinobu's eyes lifts from her book to look at itto  ,  she takes a second to ponder if she should ignore itto’s words or actually respond to it . . . does she choose peace or violence today  ??  her eyes falls back onto her book then flickers back to itto  ,  “  boss . . . you ever wonder onikabuto fighting is just forcing people to fight against their will  ??  ”  she asks  ,  “  like . . . you know  ,  forcing them to battle each other  .  what if they don’t want to  ??  ”  she asks  ,  shutting her book after bookmarking it  .  her book closes with a gentle thud as her attention comes to focus upon the oni  .             “  it’s like . . . mandatory conscription because you just forcibly capture an onikabuto  ,  then force them to battle one another  .  ”  she says  ,  a tilt of her head  .

[ensuists-moved]

"Did someone ever told you how pretty you are, Wren?" From a drunk Atsumu :)

unprompted asks ✯ always accepting!!

❝ Hmm... I think you might be exaggerating a little there, Atsumu. ❞ With a soft laugh, Wren shakes his head with amusement. Atsumu's drunk, that's clear as day. Even though Wren knows this perfectly well, he still can't deny just how FLUSTERED the words make him, prompting a soft pink to color his cheeks. ❝ Besides, my looks aren't much of anything compared to yours, ❞ he murmurs with sincerity, eyes averted downwards with embarrassment as he wraps an arm around the other's waist to support him upwards. ❝ But let's get you in a cab, okay?? We can talk more when we get you home!! ❞

✯ @shinobswrites