AshGopal



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    The thing about plastic chairs is that they weren't a great substitute for an actual bed; the other thing is, Robert can't exactly afford to be picky and even if he 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 the internal debate is still ongoing as to whether or not he deserves a mattress at this current point in his life.

    So, the plastic chair stays and is staying for the foreseeable future. Besides, it's charming - in a depressing, minimalism-that-is-totally-not-a-reflection-of-his-inner-sense-of-worth way.

     
    Or:

    The fic where Robert has chronic pain and Flambae has warm hands. The two of them will figure out what to do about that eventually, right?

    Language:
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    5/5
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    17 Dec 2025

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    Impatiently, Zoro tugged at Sanji’s shirt and Sanji let Zoro take them off. His rough fingers reached down to the belt once again. As Sanji listened to the sound of the metal buckle and the zip of his pants being undone, it took everything in him to not push Zoro away and bolt. Instead, he watched his trousers being tossed aside and dragged his eyes down to Zoro, who was watching him like a hawk.

    “You look as if you’re walking up to your gallows,” Zoro noted.

    “An apt description,” Sanji croaked.

    Zoro frowned in curiosity. He turned his eyes back down to the blue-striped boxer before reaching for the hem and slowly peeling it down. Judging by Sanji’s utter apprehension, Zoro was expecting something hideous, like a scar or a deformity, but he didn’t expect this.

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    Just pure, filthy porn with very, very weak attempt at plot. Probably non-existent.

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    10 Dec 2025

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    Back then, they hadn't been entirely sure exactly what visions Amo’s abilities played to her victims, but Riyo's face in particular when the illusion had broken had stuck with him.

    That woman's powers are real vicious, he remembers thinking to himself as he looked at Riyo’s crumpled form on the ground. Real vicious.

    Which is exactly why he hesitates to answer.

    Or, the one where Zanka discovers who he would've seen had he forgotten his mask back in Amo's tower, and how he deals with the consequences.

    Language:
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    01 Dec 2025

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    The vivid clarity of the world around himself, draped in a dark cloak of night that his enhanced eyes saw through as if it were but a thin sheet; the crisp autumn air tickling the inside of his nostrils with such saturation that it almost felt like he could taste the coming winter on the tip of his tongue. The breeze that came from this altitude tickled his bare skin, and despite its ineffectual chill against his strengthened flesh, goosebumps climbed up his neck from the tactile sensitivity he bore against its breath.

    Everything felt so real, realer and fresher than it'd ever been. If that made sense, which it probably didn’t.

    His senses then were just so alive that he didn’t think he could recall a time he’d ever been so… aware, of everything.

    Toji fucking Fushiguro. Who would've guessed. In the middle of Shibuya too, like, really?

    Language:
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    22/?
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    04 Nov 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Holy shit, badass beyond measure. Toji is a certified BEAST

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    “You’ve been hard since I walked into the room,” Isagi teases with a quirk of his brow. He yanks Rin’s head back with a quick jolt that sends pain radiating through his scalp and leans in closer to speak his next words right against Rin’s lips. “Be honest Rin, when you said you were giving me a special seat, you meant on your knot, right?” He sneers. “You really are a pervert.”

    Isagi triggers Rin's rut at the end of the Bastard Munchen vs. PXG match and Rin is determined to make him pay for it.

    Language:
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    14 Oct 2025