#I do not want the small children to get rabies

[tj-crochets]

Hey fun question skunks are not usually running full speed in a giant circle at like 10 am, right? Should I be concerned this skunk might be rabid???

[queenie-the-court-jester]

Cult of the sacrificial lamb ♡

a/n: there is no actual lamb cult, I just like the title 😭 nsfw, mentioning their cock and titty sizes lmao

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★poka and juniper the Valais black nose's: the twins are inseparable. You need to bathe one but it's not the other's bath time yet? Suck it up then, 'cause they're both going in the tub now. No guarantee you won't get splashed with water. Poka is colorblind, and juniper is.. interesting. Who knows what's wrong her. The only way you can tell the difference between them is through their eyes. Who's blind and who isn't.

Physical appearance: they're both dark skinned with loosely curly black hair. At this point you should give them a haircut. Juniper has green eyes and poka has blue eyes. Juniper is 130 lbs, while poka is 120 lbs. (Juni's packing some pretty big milkers, DD cup bra. Poka got a 6 incher) 5'5

★violet the harri: violet is a little violent. Her name suits her. Kinda. You could be busy doing your chores and she'd tackle whoever decided to come within a 15 foot radius of your location. She likes to bite too, they out multiple muzzles on her only for her to chew through them. She's only ever docile with you, kinda. Just ignore the multiple bite marks around your arms.

Physical appearance: B cup, 140lbs, white long hair, pale as fuck, and violet eyes, 5'3

★azucar the Columbia sheep: I was hesitant to put azucar here since she's 17, legally a minor. I won't do any nsfw content with her because it makes me uncomfy. She can be the sweetest hybrid you ever met or the meanest. No in-between. Her moods flip like a light switch, unpredictable. She'll cuss you out in Spanish and then t-bag you. Talk about a hormonal teenager

Physical appearance: c cup, 137 lbs, curly white hair, pale skin, black eyes, 5'4

★wehrner the American black belly: he has daddy vibes, like he could bend you over his knee and spank your ass because you didn't address him as 'sir'. Bastard. You often catch him shamelessly fapping behind a tree in the fields, even when you freeze and stare at his impressive dick he doesn't stop, instead, inviting you to join him. And that's the story of how he got the cone of shame.

Appearance: 8 incher, 150 lbs, 5'7, long black and brown hair, grey eyes, peach skin, large horns curled around his ears

★Sally the angora goat: 'it's earthworm Sally! Carrying diseases from Florida to Cali!' That is her theme song fr. She's been fooling around with the neighboring farm's ram's so much you doubt she isn't carrying a couple STDs and maybe rabies too. Although she is very bubbly and cheerful, she just starts so much unnecessary drama with the other animals

Appearance: curly long white hair, pale skin, red eyes, D cup, 120 lbs, 5'6

★opal the Tennessee fainting goat: she's so tiny, and mean. She bit your ass and chest so many times you're always looking around your surroundings before entering the fields. Although recently you discovered a rather popular way to stun her and run away

Appearance: black straight hair (I bet she has split ends), peach colored skin, tiny horns on her head, 90 lbs, 4'10, A cup

★sasha the Australian cashmere goat: Sasha is quiet and stoic, but she doesn't hesitate to step in Incase somebody wants to start a fight. She's Kim's second favorite female (you're the first ofcourse)

Appearance: fluffy platinum blonde hair, pale skin, black eyes, small horns sprout from her head, B cup, 152 lbs, 5'9

★kim the dutch landrace goat: Kim can either be your angle or your debil. Yes that misspelling was intentional. More than once has he tried humping you, even convincing the girls to try and help him, except you keep running away. STOP RUNNING AWAY. Is it so bad he wants to impregnate you with his children!?

Appearance: long silky black-blond hair, bro is ripped, large horns curl around his head, 160 lbs, 5'11, 7 incher

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[haberdashing]

I just want to take a moment and talk about vaccines.

Not the vaccine controversy. Not the Covid-19 vaccine. Just... vaccines.

The basic concept of them is wild to begin with!

Someone noticed that people who got one disease became immune to another, more dangerous one. They learned that this was connected to why some diseases can only strike a person once, that the body has a system of striking down invaders once it knows them well enough to recognize their shape. And then they took that concept and were able to apply it to some small fraction of a disease, something that is not nearly strong enough to actually hurt a person but has the same shape of the illness it's modeled after, and turned it into something you inject directly into the body. And now your body knows that disease's shape. And now you're immune to it. Perhaps forever.

And we've used that concept to do a lot in the way of promoting public health.

You're probably aware of smallpox being eradicated. But think about it again. A vicious disease that preyed upon humanity for millennia, killed untold millions, caused plague after plague. Gone forever. At this point, many of us don't even have the scars from its eradication--but some do. Some still have a scar on their body that acts as proof that they are old enough to know of smallpox, and young enough to have been part of the campaign that destroyed it.

But did you know smallpox wasn't the only disease eradicated by vaccination?

Rinderpest doesn't get as much press, likely because it never affected humans directly, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a scourge in its own right. It killed cattle in a week or two after the first symptoms, causing them a painful, unpleasant death--and it almost always did end in death, in the end, with a mortality rate second perhaps only to rabies. And if the suffering of the cattle weren't enough, think of the cattle farmers who could only stand by and watch as their herds were ravaged by this plague, as it spread from beast to beast until there were no survivors, and the animals that they had poured so much time, energy, and attention into were nothing but diseased, rotting flesh.

And rinderpest, too, was eradicated by a worldwide vaccination campaign. Nobody ever has to worry about it anymore. Rinderpest is gone forever, just like smallpox.

We're not far off with polio, either. You probably know the old stories of polio as a threat, of children afraid to swim in pools with other children, of whole wards of hospital patients within iron lungs for their entire lives. But the vast majority of people reading this post know that only through those old stories, not through lived experience.

There are only two countries now where wild polio remains endemic. ("Wild polio" is here used to differentiate it from polio as a complication of use of the live vaccine, which does happen, unfortunately.) Those countries are Afghanistan and Pakistan, for which the reasons behind the eradication campaign's delayed success are, sadly, all too obvious. But even in those war-torn countries, a total of twelve (12) cases of polio were reported in 2023. That's a far cry from the days where it was a threat looming in every neighborhood.

We could eradicate polio in the coming years, too. We're not far off. It's been complicated by politics and logistics, but we've already overcome a lot of the same. Soon, polio might become just another historical footnote.

All because one scientist noticed that the milkmaids who got cowpox never seemed to get ill during smallpox epidemics. And all because humanity as a whole banded together and campaigned to eradicate diseases for good with this new knowledge.

It's not just polio, either. If we all worked together, we might be able to eradicate measles, mumps, rubella... it'll never be all diseases, not even close--some mutate too fast, others have too many wild animal hosts--but with a bit of a push we can take a few more of those diseases that ruined countless lives across human history and turn them into a historical footnote and curiosity, names that once inspired terror becoming merely quaint and old-fashioned.

Isn't that a wonderful thought?

[dubconartist]

His Favorite's Favorite: 1983 Fisticuffs

Rating: General

Copia was just a boy of thirteen, such a lucky number. After he and Nihil had their talk years previous, he had begun to allow himself to stand out from the crowd and it had done him good. While each child raised within their numbers was valued by their sect, there were only a handful of children that the Ministry at large concerned themselves with. It had, for years, been only Papa Nihil’s three boys that needed to be factored into future plans because by birthright the three of them each held the official title of cardinal, though they had done nothing to earn that place. Now, however, Copia's name was being brought up with increasing frequency. What studies they should start him on. What role he might play in their futures. How important it was that he should cultivate leadership skills.

[rest under the read more or on AO3]

Nihil figured these were all things that came with being in Sister Imperator's favor. She had always made time in her comings and goings to visit young Copia, to be there for him as much as she could. Personally, the Papa could not understand the fascination with this child. Copia played games all day, talked nonsense at anyone who would listen, was incredibly awkward when he tried to socialize, and stole the good snacks out of Nihil's desk. Nihil thought he was a little weirdo if anything, though not entirely intolerable. They were almost alike sometimes and those were the times Nihil would begin to find him tiresome.

There was a spiteful determination that seemed to have taken root in young Copia, a rebelliousness that twisted limitations and criticism into challenges by which to prove himself. When bullied he would bite back as good as he got with a viciousness that reminded Nihil so much of Sister Imperator that he figured the boy must be actively trying to emulate her. While Copia appeared perpetually unfocused, apparently doing anything other than the task at hand, his assignments would still be turned in on time with exceptional marks. Psaltarian had said the boy was likely brilliant and could very well run the Ministry one day, if he started taking things more seriously.

Copia had briefly tried to befriend Nihil's sons a few years prior but the older boys had rejected him outright. The eldest, already a grown man, had ignored the young boy's presence entirely but the two teenagers seemed almost offended that this unimportant child was speaking to them like they were equals. They had begun to act as if Copia was encroaching on their territory somehow, like he was a threat to their livelihood.

“Stop trying to be one of us, kid.” Nihil's middle son told the boy one day. “You don't matter.”

“I don't matter?” Copia seemed deeply offended but only mildly surprised and bit back, “At least I'm wanted.” The young man’s fist met Copia's face with a force fueled in no small part by the fact that it had been an entirely factual statement. Copia, with what must have been a thirteen year old’s version of a battle roar, threw himself entirely into a fight with the older boy. Nihil's other sons merely watched the conflict, not helping their brother because they were nothing if not disloyal. The youngest in particular seemed to be delighted with the turn of events, possibly even rooting for the child just because it would be nice to see his brother lose.

Though five entire years younger and much smaller, Copia held his own in the fight and when the boys had finally been dragged apart by Nihil and Psaltarian, Copia had a black eye and a wild grin of satisfaction. Nihil's son had a split lip, a deep bite wound in his arm, and a bruised ego. “You're gonna get rabies, man.” The youngest son laughed at his brother. The black ring blooming around the Copia's eye reminded Nihil of a cardinal’s makeup.

In the afternoon’s meeting that they had been heading to before having to break up the fight, for the first time ever, it was Nihil that brought up plans for Copia's future. “I’d like to make Copia a cardinal.” It had been the black eye that had put the image in his head and the angry puncture marks in his son's arm that sealed the deal.

Sister Imperator sputtered, “Who t-Do you-Are you-” she was at a loss, apparently. “Why?” she finally settled on a simple enough question that she could actually finish it before aborting the sentence entirely.

“The boys are useless.” the disappointment in his progeny was clear on his face. “We will eventually need someone who can lead despite the incompetence of the Papa they must deal with.”

Not to miss the opportunity, Sister Imperator replied quickly, “Well I certainly understand that.” and she seemed rather pleased with herself while Psaltarian chuckled softly. Nihil looked deeply offended but had the good sense to say anything in response.

The next time Nihil saw Copia was when they had all gathered for a black mass. The boy went to his new place among the clergy, right next to Nihil's sons. His red robes and black rimmed eyes were identical to the young men beside him and marked him their equal. The three sons were livid.

“My little Cardi!” The Sister greeted him softly from a few rows ahead.

“Your Dark Excellency.” the boy nodded in a formal manner to Sister Imperator. Cardinal Copia turned to Nihil's sons and nodded in the same manner, “Assholes.”

[livythewriter]

Quarantine AU PT II (Elsbeth Tascioni x Fem!Reader)

Word count: 2012

Warnings: Reader gets blood drawn and tests ran on her, small bit of angst, mentions of blood obviously, mentions of deadly diseases, mentions of death.

Summary: Reader can't stop thinking about Elsbeth, but the doctors find something peculiar about her, and reader meets a little girl in the next cell over who keeps her company.

In the days that followed, I tried to stop thinking about Elsbeth, but she was literally the only thing on my mind sometimes. Whether I liked it or not, this woman had burrowed her way into my heart, and all I could think about was whether she was okay.

In fact, even now I was sitting on my bed, staring off into space, and thinking about nothing but Elsbeth. But my thoughts were soon interrupted as I heard my cell door open, and I looked up to see a doctor.

“Please come with me.” He simply said, and I complied, too tired and deflated to question why they needed me now.

He took me to a room that looked like a small lab, with a large chair in the middle that had many gadgets around it. I sat in the chair as instructed, and waited for them to tell me what was up.

“We brought you here because you had some pretty severe exposure to the virus, but have still shown no signs of being sick. We think there might be something in your blood preventing you from getting sick, and so we just want to run some tests on you to see if your blood could be used to make an antidote for the virus.” The doctor explained.

“Alright, sounds good. Is Elsbeth okay?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t disclose the status of our patients to non family members. I can say that she is still alive, though, if that makes you feel any better.”

“I guess.”

They ran some tests on me, and then drew my blood, and sent me back to my cell where I waited, waited to see if my blood could be used as a cure, or at least a treatment, or at least an immunization.

There wasn’t really much to do in my cell besides reading and crocheting, which now left a bitter taste in my mouth, the thought of doing either making me think of Elsbeth and how badly I missed her. So I just sat there, staring at the wall deep in thought.

“Hello?” A sudden small voice shook me out of my thoughts.

“Hello?” My own voice, weak from lack of use, croaked back.

“You can hear me…?” The voice sounded young, like a child.

“Yeah. These walls are pretty thin.” I said.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s ___. What about you?”

“I’m Abby.”

“Are your parents in there with you?” I asked.

“No, they’re one of the doctors who work here.”

“Oh, alright. How old are you?” I tried to sound as friendly as possible, but I was pretty awkward around children.

“I’m 9. How long have you been here?” Abby asked me.

“About ten days, I haven’t really been keeping count.”

“Do you think I’m gonna be here that long?” Abby sounded a little scared.

“I don’t think so, I’ve only been here this long because they think there’s something in my blood that could be used as an antidote for the virus.”

“Do you think I have the virus?” She asked..

“Well, what brought you here?”

“I was at my grandma’s house, and she had the virus. It’s not like she coughed on me or anything, my parents said it was just a per-cussion.” She had difficulty pronouncing that last word.

“Precaution?”

“Yeah, that. What does that mean?”

“Well, a precaution is when something is done just in case something bad happens. It doesn’t mean the bad thing will happen, but the precaution is just in case it could.” I explained.

“Does that mean I might not have the virus?”

“Yeah, there’s a chance you don’t.”

“I really hope I don’t have it. There’s a 20% death rate, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s not too high.” I assured her, “There are diseases with 100% fatality rate, like rabies.”

“Oh, my uncle got bitten by a dog with rabies. He had to get a shot. I don’t like shots, so I avoid dogs in case they have rabies. I don’t think cats can have rabies cause they don’t go outside. At least, not the indoor cats.”

“Well, pet dogs usually don’t have rabies, but it’s definitely wise to be cautious of any wild animal, even if they don’t have rabies, because of how unpredictable they are.”

“I have a pet snake, her name’s Jasper cause she’s red like the stone.” Abby said.

“Oh, that’s so cute! What kind of snake is she?” I asked.

“A corn snake. Does this place have any games?”

“Well, it has books and crochet kits, but I don’t know if it has any games. You would have to ask your parents.”

“Oh, okay. What’s crow-shay?” She asked.

“It’s a craft where you make things with yarn. I have some crochet supplies in here.” I explained.

“Can I have them?”

“You can ask your parents to bring you some, and maybe I can teach you how to crochet.” I said.

“Okay, that sounds good. Mom! Can you come here please?” Abby called out for her mom, and a doctor came over.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can I have crochet supplies? ___ said she was gonna teach me how to crochet.”

“Oh okay, let me just go and grab some.” The doctor left and came back with crochet supplies. I taught Abby how to crochet, and for once it didn’t bring back the sadness of missing Elsbeth.

In the days that followed, me and Abby would talk, and I would be brought back to the lab to run some tests, to see if I had the key to an antidote.

It did eventually get easier to keep my mind off of what would happen to Elsbeth, as I had Abby to keep me company. She was a pretty funny kid, and wicked smart. Sometimes we would play a version of battleship where we drew a grid on paper, drew ships on that grid, and would place attacks on each others’ boards, hoping to hit one of our battleships.

Abby would be a little down sometimes, worried she had the virus, but I always assured her that she likely didn’t have it, and even if she did, a cure was being looked for, so she would likely be okay.

One day, I was busy playing battleship with Abby.

“Hit to B4!” Abby exclaimed, slamming down a checkers piece on the board.

“Dang, you got my ship!” I crossed out my largest ship.

“How many ships do you have left?” She asked.

“I can’t say. But it is… less than 5…” I sighed exaggeratedly.

“I bet it’s like one! I’m gonna beat you, haha!” She laughed mockingly.

“Not if I have any say! Hit to E2!” I put the checkers piece in E2 on the board.

“Nope, didn’t get my ship!”

“Ship? That implies you only have one left…”

“No I don’t! You’re just projecting cause you only have one ship left!”

“Mhmmm, sure.” My cell door opened and a doctor walked in. 

“I have good news.” Said the doctor.

“Oh?” I asked.

“Your blood was successfully used to make an antidote and vaccine for the disease. We just need to draw a little more blood from you so we can successfully make copies of the antibodies in your blood.”

“That’s amazing! Abby did you hear that? They found a cure!”

“O.M.G.!” Abby jumped around excitedly in her cell, and I went with the doctor to have more blood drawn.

“Alright, now that we’ve found a cure, you can go home, and we’ll start giving everyone in the facility this new cure. You have no idea how much your blood is going to help us all.” The doctor explained.

“Thank you so much, have a nice day!” I grabbed my stuff, said goodbye to Abby on the way out, and went home.

My dog was waiting for me at home, along with the sitter I had hired, and my dog immediately jumped on me with kisses and joy.

“Hey there, cutie. Did you miss me?” I gave my dog a kiss on the head. Her name was Sweetie, and she really was cute.

After showering my dog with kisses, I went upstairs and greeted my pet fish. I had two goldfish in a tank, named Jessie and James.

I hadn’t had time to think about Elsbeth with my friend at the facility, but now she popped into my mind again, and I hoped she was okay.

I decided to watch my favorite show for a bit, hoping she would text me sometime in the next couple of days.

About a week after I came home, while I was making dinner, my phone suddenly buzzed with a text. My hands flew towards my phone, harshly grabbing it as I looked at the screen. A text from an unknown number was displayed on my lockscreen

‘Hi there! I’m still alive! I was the first one they gave the cure to!’ -8:42pm.

I immediately texted back, ‘Elsbeth???’ -8:43pm.

‘Yes! I heard they used your blood to make a cure! I am so glad you were immune. I was worried sick the whole time that you would get sick. Oh dear, I have a story to tell you.’ -8:45pm.

‘Oh???’ -8:46pm.

‘It got so bad, I thought I was gonna die! But then just when it was at its worst, I was given the cure, and the more I was given it, the better I felt!’ -8:47pm.

‘Wanna come over?’ -8:48pm.

‘Sure! Just let me know where you are.’ -8:50pm.

I told her my address, and she came over, where we hung out, and I made a second serving of dinner just for her.

“Do you have any allergies?” I asked.

“I don’t believe so, no… Especially not in what you’re making.” Elsbeth said.

“Alright good.” I finished making dinner, and we sat down at the table.

I noticed Elsbeth’s odd, but formal outfit. “You got all dressed up for me, I see.”

“Oh, I had to. I couldn’t show up underdressed for a date with my new favorite person!”

I blushed a bit hearing that, and gave her a bashful smile, “Well now I feel underdressed in my T-shirt and sweats…”

“Ah, you still look gorgeous!” Elsbeth waved her hand dismissively.

“You know exactly how to flatter a girl, Elsbeth.” I giggled.

“Or maybe I just want to flatter you.” Elsbeth leaned in, smiling as she lowered her voice to say that. My cheeks flushed even redder, and I averted my gaze, still smiling.

“By the way, this food is so delicious! I’m loving it! You are an amazing cook.” She took a bite out of the meal.

“Oh, it’s nothing really. I learned to cook from a young age.” A thought popped into my head and I sighed, “You know, I really was worried about you. Only thing stopping me from spiraling into thoughts about your condition was a little girl in the cell next to me who kept me company.”

“Oh no, I am so sorry.” Elsbeth reached across the table and put her hand atop mine.

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault. I was just scared that you would die…”

“Well, I’m not dead. And I won’t be dying anytime soon.” Elsbeth said in a reassuring, quiet voice, a smile on her face. I smiled back.

“I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m sorry I worried you too.” I said.

“I’m just glad you’re also okay.”

“Yeah.”

We spent the rest of the night chatting and laughing, and eventually Elsbeth had to go home.

“It was nice spending time with you, I enjoyed myself a lot.” Elsbeth said when we were right next to the front door.

“Yeah, me too. I hope you have a safe drive home.” I said.

“I’ll see you again sometime.” Elsbeth suddenly leaned in, planting a kiss on my cheek. My cheeks flushed bright red, and my mouth hung open like a fish. She waved at me, and then exited my house, leaving me to think about that moment.

[thinehitmanagency]

More Silly Facts:

☆ Blaster would be absolutely awful with children. Of any age. He doesn’t pay attention to anything that doesn’t concern him. All that matters is the kid "doesn't touch anything that could give you rabies" and "don't start digging around like a nosy little rat."

☆ Unknwn is probably the gangliest motherfucker in the agency. He is not physically strong, even though he likes to pretend he is. He’s got book smarts and is a super good hacker, but he would get IMMEDIATELY cooked in a fight. But please let him believe he’s the best, most talented and strongest guy ever. His ego is frail.

☆ I don’t think he ever takes off his coat. He sleeps, works, travels, and eats in that coat. As a matter of fact, it’s barely ever been washed. Unless he spills something on the majority of it or it gets really dirty, he will always keep it on. Being away from it causes him great anxiety.

☆ Briar used to play "the can game" with his siblings. Basically, they would throw cans at the next door neighbors’ kids and if they hit their face, head, or neck, they would win. This was not very popular with any of their neighbors. Bellatrix usually always won, with Blythe being a close second.

☆ Dreadelle claims to see the dead! How crazy is that? Being a half alive doll corpse really suspends disbelief, though. Everyone just believes her when she tells them about an encounter she had with Straws or Rabecca, or whatever other ghost she’s seen.

☆ Zinc is a perfectly normal human man. There is truly nothing special about him. Of course, he still gets asked questions like, "Why do your joints creak when you move?" and "why does your voice sound so weird?" But you can rest assured that it is none of your goddamn business. He is just living his life as normally as he can, so please hold your questions and keep a safe distance.

☆ d011in7 does not sleep. He experiences something he calls "radio death," where he temporarily turns off technology within a reasonable radius and shuts down. The internet is inaccessible when this happens, and nothing will turn on. He claims it’s an "uncontrollable problem," but he’ll do it when he’s angry, irritated, lonely, or feeling ignored.

☆ You will notice & is always absent from the agency and from agency meetings. This is because she doesn’t care about any of them. Nonetheless, she still gets paid regularly. No one knows what she looks like or what her job is, aside from Silver and Unknwn.

☆ d011in7, The Prototype! The Original! Do not tell him his systems have been copied across millions of servers and used for other applications that are identical to him. Radio death might occur for good.

☆ Briar was very small and scraggly as a kid, being the shortest out of all his family members and classmates until about 7th grade. Then he hit 8th grade and he got fucked up. He came back over the summer and he was deadass 6’0’’ and he thought he was hot shit.

☆ DLL is constantly being fucked with by Unknwn. "Do u wanna have a hacking comp? :)" no he does fucking not. He wants to be left alone.

☆ Speaking of, DLL has hidden cameras around the agency. No one (other than d011in7) has found them yet, but he insists it’s not for any malicious purposes. He’s just watching. For spies. Like you do.

☆ Bonnibelle, the only mechanic before ▇▇▇▇ shows up, is constantly stealing shit from HQ. She steals from the higher ups, their funky mechanisms, their enhancements, their cogs and their wiring— everything. She claims she’s going to make a powerful super weapon for only the agency to use, without the control "of the big bosses in charge up there." The way she has described said weapon is… sinister.

☆ Cadmium does some funny little cannibalism sometimes. He’s just hungry. Lately he has been trying to curb these urges by biting down on metal with his sharp ass teeth, and fortunately it has worked for the time being. He stays in the attic above the agency, but who knows what he’s doing in there. It smells like copper up there.

☆ Mister G.L. is the local nurse and he is 100% always whacked out on sleeping pills. He has built up so much resistance to the sleep-inducing chemicals that all they do is keep him awake. Which is great! Because the agency medical office is constantly flooded with injured patients, and he could never leave someone hurt. Some say he has a "savior complex," but that is just complete and total nonsense! Him? A savior? Never! Just a brilliant, guiding light for those who need him!

[emoaro]

youtube why are you torturing me like this it is the same goddamn xmas ad every. fucking. time. please i’m going to explode my own eardrums and bleach my eyes why are you doing this to me i can’t take much more of this shit it is always one (1) ad and it is always the same ad it wouldn’t even be that much of a problem if the ad wasn’t the fucking worst thing i have ever seen in my entire existence on this hellish planet it is driving me up the wall the person’s voice and singing is so damn annoying and stupid and infuriating and the piano smashing is going to be the reason i leave the living it is november there is more than a month until december 25th why are you doing this i miss halloween it’s like it’s on purpose please i don’t even like xmas it’s so stupid what kind of ad is that it’s not even good the only thing you’re convincing me to buy is a one way ticket to hell id rather be in hell right now id take eternal suffering this is eternal suffering but at least hell has cool people because apparently pieces of human garbage can still get into heaven if they turn to the lord but i can’t because i like men the ad is so dumb and pointless and annoying this is purgatory i don’t want to buy your clothes or whatever the fuck i have enough of them whoever made that ad doesn’t deserve simple joys in life they deserve everything bad that happens to them for the rest of their life they should be sorry and feel remorse for creating such a bad thing they should be on their deathbed and amongst their many regrets in life their biggest is helping to create that wretched thing youtube i beg of you i’m on my knees susan give me other ads i’ll even take those weird military ads you gave me when i visited america over this i’ll watch a three minute ad of a crypto guy explaining ballscoin to me i’ll peel my own fingernails off i’ll watch an innocent animal die i’ll take anything i’ll do anything you want i’ll sit through double non skippable ads and not complain i’ll watch fucking leafy videos for an hour straight i will sacrifice ten newborns i’ll cross the styx i’ll fight god i’ll murder my entire family for you susan just please please please stop showing me that ad change it up i’d rather lose my only friend and die alone than watch that ad one more time i’d rather be torn apart by rabies infected squirrels i’d rather vomit up the antichrist i would die to avoid seeing that ad again why must you only show me such a stupid ad do you enjoy my anguish is that what it is do you like my purgatory you power hungry fuck you sick bastard you fucked up jerk two can play at that game you motherfucker i’ll never touch that store ever again it’s all i can hear in my head my eyes hurt from the white and red and the stupid blonde colour of the person’s stupid hair i hope your company goes bankrupt i hope your wife leaves you and you never see your children again i hope your new wife is a cheating asshole i hope your heart never recovers and hardens from the pain and you become a cold monster just like me after all this time and you find me one day when we’ve both lost everything and everyone and we’re no longer angry just numb and we fight to the death and i hope you win and you look down at my corpse and wish it was you just for a moment and for the rest of your life you wonder what we could’ve had and if killing me was what you wanted what was best and just and did i deserve it and for the rest of your days there’s a void in you that can never be filled and you hang out at pubs and scare small children who make tales about you and you’re empty so empty and you keep replaying that moment in your head and sometimes you see your wife and children older now moved on with a new person and you think back to when you helped create that ad and you wonder how it could’ve gone if you and i could’ve been friends lovers even if you hadn’t made that monstrous eyesore ear splitting ad and when you’re on your deathbed there’s nobody around you except the nurses who come to check on you and you think of me and when death comes you welcome it

[unholyhelbig]

Ronance prompt idea…. (Extremely wholesome and fluffy edition) The squad (include whoever you want in this) go to a fair/carnival playing games eventually Nancy really wants to go on the Ferris wheel except nobody really seems interested, even Robin is hesitant but reluctantly goes with Nancy anyway (because feeeelings) Nancy and Robin are on the Ferris wheel when it gets stuck … like actually stuck and Robin is freaking out (because guess what friends she’s afraid of heights) and Nancy is asking her why she got on the Ferris wheel if she was afraid of heights which sends Robin into a rambling mess and Nancy figures the best distraction from both the Ferris wheel situation and her overthinking is to kiss her (because secretly Nancy had liked Robin too)

[A/N: I totally loved this prompt, thank you for sending it my way, and I'm sorry it took so long to get it done!]

TW: Heights, and probably awful grammar, I didn't proofread this.

Read on Ao3 | Request a prompt

Single Rider | Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler

Robin Buckley had long since resigned to the fact that she couldn’t list her fears on all ten of her fingers. There were the normal things; like talking too loud in a quiet room, or the painted faces of smiling clowns. Of course, she had a fear of spiders, and bats but not because of their small teeth, she had read that you could barely feel a bite, but she wouldn’t risk a bite for fear of rabies.

 She loved to read and had read that less than 1/10th of bats in the United States actually had rabies but she was counting that if one sunk their fangs into her flesh, it would be that small margin.

Despite all of this, Robin knew how to have fun. Of course, she constantly thought about what she was touching and the texture that was under her fingertips, and the loud noises around her- but it was easy to melt into normalcy around Steve, Eddie, and Nancy.

The carnival in town had four things she was afraid of- Public restrooms, faulty machinery, Carnies that didn't wash their hands after scratching their junk, and most palpable- heights.

The thick scent of dripping caramel and freshly popped corn coated her throat and made her stomach clench as they stopped below the bulb-lit arch at the entrance of the carnival. They stared down an aisle of poorly constructed stands loitered with cheap stuffed animals, men, and women shouting to patrons.

A rickety rollercoaster that consisted of one solid loop was off to the right, and something called the scrambler that sprung its riders in three different directions was on the left. Looming over the entire pop-up park was a Ferris Wheel, flicking its red, white, and blue lights in a mesmerizing swirl. There was no way in hell Robin was ever going to step foot on something like that. 

Nancy Wheeler’s face lit up under the mix of spectacle lights, a purple haze bouncing off her curls. She looked like a kid in a candy store, even excitedly gripping at Robin’s cold fingers in a squeeze of trust. Eddie shoved his shoulder into Steve’s, laughing excitedly.

“I bet I can win more goldfish than the king of Hawkins High,” Eddie said.

“No fucking way, Munson.”

There was a dangerous look in Steve’s eyes before he took off, kicking up the loosely packed dirt and shoving through the mothers and fathers, and children that were caught in the crossfire. Eddie wasn’t far behind, right at the heels until they blended in with the crowd.

“Well damn,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms over her chest “They’re not going to have anywhere to put twenty goldfish.”

Nancy Laughed “Better than here, come on, let’s go play some games.”

Robin opened her mouth to object. They were all a farce, rigged by the carnies working them with golden smiles and darkened eyes. But she caught the smile on Nancy’s lips and all annoyance dissipated into thin air. She would move mountains for this woman, but the least she could do now was play ring toss.

Nancy wicked her hand around the sleeve of Robin’s jacket, keeping track of her movements as they weaved through the crowd. Despite the cloying cold of the night, she felt sweat against her collarbone, in her palm, damp with nerves. Nancy had led her to the stand closest to the Ferris Wheel. It loomed in its innate steepness.

She had chosen a game with four metal water guns pointed at a comically disproportionate target. Wooden cut-outs of clowns smiled at them, tipped down when the small chamber filled with enough water.

Robin patted her coat pocket and produced two red paper tickets to the bored man behind the counter who smelled strongly of liquor and perspiration. He chewed on the flat end of a toothpick, shifting it to one side of his mouth. “Alright, ladies, you each get a gun, you each get a clown.”

“Don’t worry, Rob, you’ve got this.”

Nancy had said those words, and Robin was sure of it, but she was too focused on the intense look on the shorter girl’s face, the way her stance changed as if she were firing a shotgun instead of a metal shooter at the Hawkins annual summer fair. Robin had seen Nancy shoot before, and the small part of her that hoped she would be able to produce a stuffed animal from the prize bin shrunk.

A bell sounded and Nancy polished her aim in three seconds flat. Robin stumbled with the singular button on the gun and ended up splashing the carnie on the far side of the booth. He mumbled profanities and her cheeks reddened. Nancy’s clown dropped with a sickening pre-recorded laugh.

“That’s time!” The carnie yelled.

Robin dropped her arms with a laugh. There was no game of physical skill that she would best Nancy in. Unlike Eddie, who had some form of coordination when it came to certain games that relied on something more than chance.

Nancy pushed her shoulder into Robin’s and gratefully accepted the small stuffed Elephant that was passed to her. “I’m going to name her Robin, I think.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not, Wheeler.”

“Of course, it is!” Nancy’s eyes moved past Robin’s shoulder and locked in on the patriotic spiral that spun in the center of the Ferris Wheel. It reflected off the brilliant blue of her eyes, and the pale coloring of her cheeks. Robin felt her stomach drop despite the beauty of the view.

Robin turned and stared up at the monstrosity. She had a general rule when it came to her fear of heights: don’t look up at it, and most certainly don’t look down. Both had the same effect of turning her stomach into knots.

“We should totally do the Ferris Wheel, it’s a beautiful night.”

“Ah,” Robin cupped the back of her neck, finding it damp “I don’t know, Nance. What if you go up with Steve?”

“What about Steve?” The jock held a soft pretzel in his left hand, wrapped in a small parchment paper. A glob of orange artificial cheese was drizzled across the top, muddying his fingers. He took a bite and chewed through the rest of his statement. “All good things, I hope.”

“I was just telling Robin here that it’s impossible for you to join me on the Ferris Wheel.”

“Oh, yeah, no I’m not doing that.” He took another bite, “upchuck city. Every year I barf off the side of that thing.”

Great. This was fantastic. She couldn’t bare to see the way Nancy’s face would drop if she had to be escorted to the front of the line and paired with a stranger who reeked of popped kettle corn. More than anything, Robin hated the feeling of missing out on a moment like this because of a fear of heights.

Still, she gave Eddie a pleading look. He just shook his head and took a long sip of his lemonade. He was wielding a pink stuffed rabbit, hugging it close to his body as if he had been the one to win the ring toss. Neither of them carried a fish, so Robin had a sneaking suspicion that it had been surrendered for a different prize.

“What do you say, Robin?” She held up the elephant, lowering her voice in a cartoonish way. “I’ll go too.”

She nodded, and God, she can’t believe she nodded. But the smile that spread across Nancy’s face made up for the influx of fear that clawed at her throat. The line was on the tail end of loading up, sparing Robin the wait to change her mind- and she would have changed her mind.

They were in a red embossed cart that had more room than Robin had anticipated. The worker smelled of mint instead of liquor, so she took that as a good sign that it wasn’t being drunkenly operated. A bar moved across her lap and was strapped in with a metal clink.

She felt herself tense, but then felt the warmth of Nancy’s hand in her own. There was a comforting squeeze, Robin’s eyes moving from their interlocked fingers up to Nancy’s calming stare.

When the Ferris Wheel begins its ascent, Robin thinks that all of this would actually be okay. She began to loosen her stance, first staring at the rows of tents and vendors, the lights that sparkled beneath them, a man setting up fireworks, a crowd on the edge of their seats in anticipation.

Past that was the entirety of Hawkins, a blanket of stars that flickered as its patrons read books and ate dinner around the table. The town seemed so small from up here, higher than Robin had ever been. The Ferris Wheel looped around twice in an even motion before slowing to a stop at the very top.

That’s when Robin remembered all her fears, but especially the ones related to heights. Her eyes flicked down to the metals interworking of the wheel below them, a cold wind reddening her cheeks.

“Uh, why are you stopped?” She managed to ask, turning around and then steadying herself again when the cart started to sway with her movement. “Oh my god, we’re going to die.”

Nancy chuckled, “We’re not going to die, they usually stop it for a few seconds before lettings us off. Isn’t it lucky we’re on the top?”

“Yeah… Lucky.”

Robins swallowed hard as Nancy noticed her demeanor. They had both noticed a second worker joining the first one down at the base of the wheel. Eddie and Steve looked so small down there, both staring up at them and carrying a conversation, pink bunny still in Eddie’s grasp.

“Hey,” Nancy’s voice was tender, quiet “What’s wrong? It’ll be back up and running in no time.”

Robin swallowed hard, looking at the worry creased in Nancy’s features. “I’m afraid of heights. Not like, deathly afraid to the point where I couldn't get on an airplane. We go to Virginia every year for Christmas, and I have to take two Benadryl so I sleep through the entire thing, but I thought I could handle the Ferris Wheel because you know, 212 feet is way more manageable than 33,000 feet.”

Nancy moved carefully, gripping Robin’s cheeks with the warmth of her hands. It helped her focus less on the height at which they were stuck and more on the even touch that she so desperately leaned into.

“Robin,” She whispered, “Why the hell did you agree to get on the Ferris Wheel if you’re afraid of heights?”

Robin could feel her heart in her throat. She wished she had popped a pink pill for allergies. Instead, she took a deep breath of Nancy’s floral perfume. She could see the light smattering of freckles against Nancy’s nose, her cheeks. She felt weaker than she had before being conned onto the Ferris Wheel of death.

“I,” her mouth was dry, a strange cracking noise coming from below them. “Fuck!”

“Focus on me, alright?” Nancy pulled Robin’s face back inches from hers.

“You wanted to go; I thought I could handle it.”

Robin could not, in fact, handle it. Each time her stare would drift down to the tightly packed dirt that the Ferris Wheel was haphazardly bolted into, she knew she couldn’t handle it. But then there was Nancy’s expression, taking in what Robin had just said.

This might have been worse than the fact that they were stranded so high up. Nancy had a look of confusion that dripped slowly into admiration, and then something more. Robin couldn’t focus hard enough to read it like she usually did.

The wind had picked up and goosebumps rose against her skin. Nancy took a calculated breath and closed the distance between them. Robin was stunned, frozen, yet compliant. The kiss was gentle and tender, Robin’s hands found solace on Nancy’s waist, breathing every inch of her in.

They pulled apart as the Ferris Wheel groaned into submission, starting it’s slow turn back to the ground. Her bones felt weak. Nancy sighed with contentment and turned forward, using the edge of her thumb to wipe the corner of her mouth.

Robin felt a twinge of guilt for not covering the stuffed elephants’ eyes.

 Her legs were barely about her as the attendant unlocked their bar and released them. She used the railing to steady herself, wrapped up in the joint spew of words that came from Eddie and Steve’s mouths.

“We never thought you’d get down,”

“The guys working this thing are idiots.”

“Are you okay?” Steve ended, eyeing Robin with suspicion. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, totally fine.” She rasped, hugging the won prize close “Just not used to heights, I guess.”

[casper-the-rose]

From across the room Robin Buckley x fem!reader

Part 2 is up! Here

Background: this takes place after season 4 (well what’s out currently anyway) and Vecna has been defeated. y/n is currently close friends with Robin and the others, when suddenly a new plague takes over the town. Teenagers and children around Hawkins have been in mysterious comas which turn their pupils and the whites in their eyes black, no one knows the cause.

Additional notes: I had writer's block while writing this and did not proofread so apologies in advance. Also I most likely will write a part 2, considering most of this is more of background and like story than the actual like lovey dovey part if that makes sense.

  Warnings: fem!reader, but they/them pronouns are used and no explicit mentions of the reader being female. This is my first time posting something like this on tumblr so constructed criticism is greatly appreciated

Reminder! My requests are open, I do Robin Buckley mainly, but I can also do Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson :)

   “ Wait wait wait, huh?” Robin says, obviously confused after you just ran into Mike Wheeler's basement out of breath stammering incoherent sentences. “ S-something happened, something bad.” You manage to get out in between wheezes. “ What bad? Wait, weren't you just with Nancy?” Mike says, panic rising in his voice. “ Yeah, that’s the problem.” 

     Steve drives Robin, Y/n, Mike, and Dustin, to Lovers Lake. “ Wait, so why didn’t you just call us on the walkies?” Steve says once everyone is out of the car. “ Oh wow Steve I totally didn’t think that it’s not like no one picked up.” You say, sarcasm in your voice. Steve glared at Dustin, “ Heh, sorry low battery.” Dustin muttered. 

     You sigh and walk over to Robin. “ Hey, are you okay? Like the weird coma thing didn’t get you too or anything, right? I mean I know you’re not in a coma now but we don’t know anything about this like that's why you and Nancy went over to see if the watergate was maybe still open but- god I’m rambling again aren’t I?” Robin says, and you chuckle. Even though you would never admit it, you love the way she rambles on. “ I’m fine, I promise.“ You reassure her. “ Okay, good. You’d tell me if you started showing any signs of rabies, Right?” You laugh and hug her. “ Of course.”

     Soon enough, you get close to the lake, where police tape is blocking off the rest of the path. “ You called the police?!” Mike almost yells. “ Be quiet! And of course I did, it’s not like I could carry her. And what, you wanted me to leave your sister in a boat alone in lovers lake or on the forest floor?” Mike sighs and you walk up to the police officer “ Hey um- I’m the one who called 911. Sorry after I panicked and got Nancy’s brother and friends.” You say, pointing to the group of people behind you. The officer sighs. “ We’ll interrogate you and your buddies later. Go run along now and uh, stay safe.” He says, dismissing everyone. Robin sighs. “ Well at least you tried?” She says, trying to be helpful. 

     “So what was the point of dragging us here?” Steve sighed. “ Follow me.” You demand more than suggested, going off the path and towards who knows where. “ Y/n's gonna get us all killed.” Dustin mutters. “ Yeah, that's what I like about them.” Robin chuckled, before chasing after you. “ Y/n! Y/n! Hey, wait up!” 

     After about 15 minutes of walking, you finally stop in front of a small pond that could probably only fit one  person at a time. “ Woah..” Robin said, peering into the pond. There was a strange red glow coming from the bottom. “Ha! Now what'd ya think of that!” You proudly declare. But there was no answer.

You turn around to find your not in the woods with Robin anymore. Instead, in your first period middle school classroom, seated next to Robin Buckley. You catch her staring at you, and she quickly looks away. But this Robin doesn’t look like your Robin. She's smaller, and her hair is longer. It takes a minute for you to realize this isn't your Robin After looking in the window behind you, you let out a sharp gasp. This is middle school you. You’ve somehow been transported years upon years into the past. “Hey, are you okay? You seem a bit jumpy.” Robin says with a chuckle. “ Y-yeah i'm fine.” You whisper. How the hell did I get here?

~Meanwhile~

“ Y/n! Y/n! Y/n! Shit, shit shit! Please please wake up.” Robin begged as she shook you, tears streaming down her face. Your eyes were black, and your chest was slowly moving up and down. “Please  please please.” She whispered. 

[real-sun-wukong-fan01]

Oh no, no. Don't worry about it. I really love your angst and drama. Yeah, that's what I'm here for! But that's the kind of person I am. I want to give the characters some warmth after a hard time. Hurt/comfort. And if it's possible, I'd like more sweet Wukong and Tripitaka or Wukong and MK. But then again, I really love your angst.

It's okay! Don't worry about it.

but yes! I can say a bunch of stuff for these three!

And even if Tripitaka wasn't too present in wukong, or any of the four life because of work, he always made sure to get something for all of them.

He always got things wukong liked honestly, usually stuff for coding and similar.

Once he got wukong a kitten.

Why? Wukong loves animals, he always gets strays and expect Tripitaka to just let a wild animal in.

Which can be possible, but they need to be sprayed and a lot of things, maybe they have rabies! Who knows!

So Tripitaka once got tired, or well, didn't wanna wukong to risk again getting rabies, so he got him a kitten!

An orange cat so it matches his son ginger hair.

Or even Tripitaka being a big softie.

I imagine wukong and Tripitaka always giving each other hugs to greet each other, wukong does it mainly because he's too tired to say good morning, so Tripitaka matched the energy so now he does it too.

after possessed wukong, Tripitaka swore for good to be there for wukong, Tripitaka was holding wukong like this on the way back home.

Did wukong cared? No, he loved it actually. He often fell asleep in Tripitaka arms while MK was driving on the way back.

Tripitaka is a good father, he was just inexperienced, even if he works with children. He wasn't ready to get care fully of children of three different ages. Just that.

Wiko forgives him for it, he loves his dad.

About MK though!

MK is different.

MK tried his best to be the perfect mentor to wukong, always staying close so wukong wouldn't have felt ignored and tried to give the kid what he needed. (Sleep, training, teaching ect.)

He truly loves the kid, he sees a wonderful person who is just overworked all the time.

Mk is been there and knows that wukong will break if he keeps going, so he tries his best to not let it happen.

At first, he just let the kid train, then he started spending some more time with him.

Trying this grooming thing those monkeys always do, cooking food, giving the kid small little gifts and often checking on wukong to see if he needs help.

He did catch a few times where wukong was crying or he was in trouble, he always had to save and comfort wukong.

Usually he does it in disguise, but when wukong is crying he can't help but just step in and hug his student.

When possessed wukong happened, MK truly blamed himself, because the kid doesn't have to go through that!

He couldn't hit the kid, so all he did was blocking and dodging, like in training.

When wukong broke free from the possession MK made sure wukong was close and safe, he didn't let his student fight anymore because he understood he was exhausted.

Wukong Didn't mind staying in MK arms all the way back to his family, he was comfortable like that. Wukong trusts MK to protect him, sure they had fights and MK often felt clingy, but he knows that his master is trying his best as much as wukong is.

Footage of MK hugging wukong:

Wukong looks up to MK like wujing looks up to wukong, you don't know how happy mk gets when he catches his student doing something he does, a catch phrase or a small movement, anything, MK just gets super happy about it.

he gets what humans call "aggressive cuteness" with wukong, wukong gets his cheeks squeezed a lot.

[insert-inconspicuous-name-here]

Just finished Stranger Things 4 and i have thoughts:

1- Nancy and Steve: stop. Just stop, please.

I love them both so much, but I do not ship them, never have never will, and I've always shipped Nancy and Jonathan and to me Nancy and Steve broke up for some very good reasons and, even tho they make great friends, they don't really make that much of a fine couple from my point of view.

2- Steve: 1: fucking ally or what?! 2: it's because you're the best babysitter, sweetie. 3: (most important) him ripping the demobat's head/body off was really hot. Like, sexy and hot and it got me all hot lol. So hot. Rip that head off! 4: i shipped him a lil with Eddie at some points. 5: he's such a great person. How he supports his lesbian girl at a small town in the 80s is amazing. Like Eddie said -he said something, i forget fast.

3- Robin: i felt represented. She won't shut up. Not great with the social skills. I love her and want her to be safe. Wish we could've seen more of Vickie. Her friendship with Nancy got me shipping a lil, but i loved their friends dynamic. Beware of rabies.

4- Argyle and Eden - ❤️ the way he was just instantly smitten was so cute. Him freaking out was also cute.

5- When i saw the promos saying El thought Will had a crush i was so happy thinking it might've been someone new and that liked and appreciated him, maybe that guy in the pink jacket. But no. He's still into Mike. It broke my heart when we knew the painting was for Mike and then he got there and everything was just super awkward. I'm really curious about the painting. And, it just got pointed out to me here, that Mike may not be able to say he loves Eleven bc he's into Will too? He said it in the last season and he's been treating Will kinda weird for some time... So i have no idea what to make of this. I just thought Mike and El were endgame. I can see it both ways. Adding: that moment they were talking in his room, i thought Will would kiss Mike for sure.

6- Eddie: what can I say about this man? He's so cute and awesome. Such a caring drug dealer. An extra lil dad for Dustin and the others. He seems like he could be friends with Robin very easily, but him and Steve bonding over Dustin was my fav. And jumping into a Watergate for three basic strangers was pretty cute. Even if it was for shame reasons. It also looks like he's filling in for both Billie and Jonathan at Hawkins, but not too much because he has his own manners and personality that diverge from both characters, and i love that.

7: I missed Erica. A. Lot. Just the facts. The couch is on fire lol she's always a badass. And speaking out in the middle of an "adult" conference was pretty cool. Also, calling their bullshit and noticing the lights.

Extras:

My fav Dustin moment was: "I overestimated them". That was some beautiful moment right there.

The fact both Steve and Eddie felt jealous of Dustin is so wholesome and weird at the same time. Just wanna see those three together.

The ending caught me by surprise. But if i stop to think about it, it was kinda predictable?

Susie's family was fun. Hope to see her in Hawkins one day.

I love Russian. That one Russian prisoner was Svetlana's husband in Shameless.

Me, everytime that one basketball player spoke: Hey, Garrett? Shut up. (He played a character named Garrett in Teen Wolf)

Liked how their parents got all involved together this time.

When that cop said Max was mean. Lol. Hell yeah.

I wish Vickie was one of the number children.

Me, hoping to see the new Xerife's reaction when Hop comes back.

I want a hellfire T.

Dead pool:

Eddie, the cutiepie who is winning over my heart just like Alexei did.

Will, who decided to bring his very important painting with him to a rescue mission and is being way more obvious about his crush nowadays.

Karen, it's just a feeling, but I think she'll start getting more into the actual problem eventually and it may end up bad for her.

Murray, he's one of my favs and it just seems like it would fit very well.

[bluskye-27]

Congratulations for the 800 followers, @kazenomegaminowanpisu ! Hope you'll like this fic!

Welcome to the Family!

Summary: Takuma, Kazuma, and Emma found a new friend at the park. How would Marco and Hanna would react to this furry friend?

"Should we really bring him home, guys? Papa might get mad at us," Kazuma, the second oldest, asked his other siblings.

Currently, the three children of Marco the Phoenix and his wife Hanna are playing in the playground by their street. While running around, Emma, the youngest, found a stray puppy in a box.

"Of course, we should! The poor puppy is all alone! He looks sad too!" Emma argued, hugging the canine close to her chest. Kazuma stared at the animal, uncertain.

"What if it has rabies?!" He argued back.

"No, he doesn't!" The little girl cries out.

"Well, but what if he actually does have it? You might get sick!"

"But I won't! Papa can treat me, anyway!"

"But-" "That's enough, Kazuma." Takuma, the oldest of the three, cuts in. "Stop arguing, you two. Mama would be disappointed if she saw you bantering, again."

"Hmph!" The arguing siblings turned away from each other. Takuma sighed, "And here I thought that Kazuma was supposed to be the serious one out of the three of us."

The said boy huffed in annoyance. "I'm just worried, okay? I don't want you guys getting sick because of rabies!" His eyes teared up but he refused to cry in front of them. Emma and Takuma grew sad from the sight of their usually serious brother and went to hug him.

"Aw, it's okay, Kazuma-nii! I'm sorry for yelling at you, too." Emma pouted, patting her older brother's head gently. Kazuma smiled at the gesture.

"Anyways, we have to go home now. Emma, put the puppy back in the box. We'll carry it on it in case he had rabies." Takuma instructed.

"Okay!" Emma nodded and ran back over to the box. She picked up the box and puts the puppy in there. After that, Kazuma volunteered to carry the box and proceeded to walk home with his two other siblings.

"I hope Papa and Mama agree to this!" Emma chirped happily.

........

"No," Marco said sternly. The kids whined in protest. "But Papa!"

"And I said no," The blond father sighed out, rubbing his forehead. "It might have an owner and rabies-yoi."

"I think we'll be alright, Papa!" Kazuma tried to convince his father but Marco shook his head.

"Then why can't we keep it?!?" Takuma cried out. Marco looked at his children pouting at him.

It made him want to give in but he knew he couldn't do so. If he did, then the puppy might have rabies and bite one of his kids, making them sick. He didn't want that at all. Marco sighed, conflicted with the situation.

"Please, Papa?" Emma pleaded with her infamous puppy dog eyes. "Pretty please?" Their father gulped nervously but shook his head, not wanting to give in.

"I'm sorry, Emma-yoi."

"PLEASE, PAPA?" Now, the twins joined in with their own puppy dog eyes, tripling the effect.

'Oh my god.' Marco groaned in his mind. 'These kids and their darn eyes.' He sighed, before finally nodding his head.

"Fine. We'll keep him. BUT! We have to talk about this to your Mama first, okay-yoi?" At this, the kids started cheering victoriously.

"Yay! Thank you, Papa!" They hugged Marco, making the latter smile.

"Anything for my kids-yoi."

........

Later that evening, as they were having dinner in the dining room, Marco decided to bring this topic up.

"So, we have something to tell you," Marco announced. Hanna perked up at this.

"What is it, dear?" The woman asked softly, now noticing the grins her kids had on their faces.

As for Marco, he sighed, a small smile on his lips. "The kids have found a puppy at the park. They wanted to adopt it-yoi." Hanna gasped, looking at them with sparkling eyes. "Really? Sure! I'd love to have a puppy around the house!"

The blond man sighed again, having known that his wife would agree so easily. "Alright, then. Since this puppy is ours now, we'll take good care of it. But we have to take him to the vet tomorrow, okay-yoi?"

Marco was met with multiple 'of course's as well as 'yes Papa's’ from his kids and wife.

He shook his head fondly at them.

........

"He sure is cute though," Hanna commented as soon as they entered the veterinarian.

"Mhm," Marco agreed, still smiling from how his children's eyes sparkled with his decision to raise the puppy.

"Hello, Ma'am and Sir. Is there anything I can do to help you today?" The vet asked politely, smiling at the lovely couple in front of her.

"Yes. Well, we've recently adopted a stray puppy which was left by its previous owners and wanted to take good care of it-yoi." Marco explained.

"Oh wow... That's awfully kind of you! Did you name him yet?" She asked excitedly. The couple looked at each other, smiling.

"About that..."

Earlier that day...

"Let's call him Doggy!" Emma suggested, petting the little puppy.

"Doggy? Seriously, Emma? Let's name him Sebastian!" Kazuma counteracted. Takuma shook his head at him.

"Alexander would be great!"

"No, Doggy!"

"Nu-uh, Sebastian!"

"Nope, Alexander!"

As the siblings started to argue back and forth, Hanna decided to interfere. "Takuma, Kazuma, Emma! Stop arguing!" She scolded.

"S-sorry, Mama!" Hanna smiled fondly at the three children. They were such a handful sometimes. Then, she asked, "Hey, what are you kids arguing about?"

"We can't decide what to name the puppy!" Takuma answered. "We have different names for him but we can't agree with each other's suggestions!" Kazuma and Emma nodded, "Mhm!/He's right!"

Hanna giggled at their cuteness before speaking. "Don't you guys like that one cartoon show? Stefan and Friends, was it?"

"That's it!" Emma gasped excitedly. "Let's name him Stefan!" Her older brothers agreed happily. "You're right! Stefan!"

Hanna smiled. "Stefan it is!"

Back to the Present:

"Stefan is his name, Ma'am," Hanna answered as she pets the puppy fondly. Stefan sniffed her hand curiously and nuzzles into her gentle touch.

"Such a cute little guy!" she cooed and petted him again.

Marco chuckled at the sight before turning to the vet. "We would like to have Stefan a check-up and vaccination, please-yoi." The lady nodded, writing down the information.

"Well then, let's get started!"

........

Soon enough, Stefan was given a check-up and was vaccinated. Afterwards, the couple went back home, happy with the outcome.

The three kids ran to their parents as soon as they got in the house. "Mama! Papa!"

"Welcome back! How was the vet appointment?" Kazuma greeted happily.

"It was awesome! Papa and I even bought Stefan his dog stuff!" Hanna said, holding up the said puppy in her arms, a colorful collar upon his neck. The children were aweing at the sight.

"Are those our favorite colors? Awesome!" Emma squealed happily as she took the puppy and hold it. Stefan licked her face in appreciation, making the girl laugh. "It tickles!"

The twins were watching in amusement and delight at Emma's reaction while Hanna and Marco chuckled at the sight.

"Thank you very much for letting us keep Stefan, Mama! Papa!" The kids hugged their parents, laughing merrily.

"You're welcome, my dears~!" Hanna grinned while Marco ruffled his kids' hair. "Anything for you, my little troublemakers-yoi."

"Welcome to the family, Stefan!" Takuma, Kazuma, Emma, and Hanna greeted the cheerful puppy.

"Woof! Woof!"

"Stefan says thank you!" Emma giggled, making everyone laugh in amusement.

[kozu-chan]

fox! miya twins

the haikyuu commercial breaks and @suncelia-art 's art has me going crazy over the concept of fox!miya twins so hereeeeee we go :)

content warnings: uhhh nothing much. biting and a little bit of blood.

disclaimer - you don't own the miya foxes but your childhood best friend, kita decided to adopt and raise the twins and since you practically live with him, the twins consider you one of their own. with that said, let's start with when you first met them...

after a good two months of begging, kita finally let you go to his house to see the twin foxes he adopted. you really wanted to meet them after seeing pictures of how ADORABLE they are but kita said no at first because he wanted the foxes to get used to his home first.

since the miya twins are tall guys, i would imagine that they would be larger than the average fox. so when you first see them, you wonder "what is kita feeding them? they're HUGE!"

they're very wary of you at first. if they could talk, they would probably say something around the lines of "who's this, kita-san? why'd ya let this strange lady into our den?"

even though they're baring their teeth and growling lowly, you can't help but coo at them because HELLO?!?! small miya kits are in front of you and they look adorable!! and because their cuteness apparently makes us a little dumb, you reach out to pet their fluffy heads and plushy ears when the little golden haired fox bites your hand.

of course, you're in p a i n because bites hurt!! kita frantically apologizes and brings in the rubbing alcohol and bandages to tend to your bloody bite mark. "i'm so sorry! i should've realized that atsumu would've bitten ya'! please don't worry, he's vaccinated. no rabies or anythin'." you nod at kita's frantic apology and wince slightly in pain as he cleans the wounds. you quickly reassure kita that you're okay, telling him you should have remembered to be more careful. kita immediately scolds atsumu for biting you, making poor baby tsumu shrink back in embarrassment. when you glance at osamu, you're a little shocked at his expression because even as a fox, osamu seems a little smug watching his twin get yelled at.

after a few minutes, your poor heart can't take it anymore and you intervene, saying that tsumu's just a baby. you kneel in front of the twins again, this time a little more gentle. "hiya tsumu! hiya samu! i'm y/n, kita - well, shinsuke's friend. i hope we can be friends because you're so cute!" you reach your hand out, stopping just a few centimeters before them.

atsumu pauses for a minute. on the one hand, you got him yelled at even though you were in his personal space. but on the other hand, you called him cute and stopped kita-san from berating him for too long.

while atsumu is deciding if he should give in to your touch, osamu trots towards your hand and sniffs it carefully before perching himself in your lap. in his defense, you smell good, you're nice, you got his brother in trouble, and he feels bad for his bother brother hurting you. you absolutely lose it when samu nuzzles himself in your lap, squealing quietly and begging a shocked kita to take a picture of the cutest scene in your entire life. osamu is confused since you're squirming a little too much for his liking and he just wanted to be warm. he gives your thigh a small warning nip before curling up tighter in your lap, which makes you stop.

once you calm down, your hand gently strokes his fur. you keep going since osamu doesn't mind. in fact, he seems to be relishing in it. kita smiles and takes multiple pictures because he knows you would want pictures of samu snuggled on you.

suddenly, you feel a little nose on you. it's atsumu. of course atsumu is jealous of how much attention his brother is receiving - especially because he isn't receiving any!! you giggle and once again bring your hand close enough for atsumu to sniff and he gladly sniffs it, even nuzzling into your hand.

your heart? officially exploded because the miya kits are too cute 🥺 (we're not even going to talk about kita's heart because that man is internally sobbing in a corner because one of his favorite people is getting along really well with his two rambunctious fox children.)

because i'm lazy, i'm just gonna skip over to when the twins are about a year old.

after a couple months, the two foxes are used to you. pre-miyas, you always visited kita's house frequently. you were there so much that you even have your own room and set of keys! and now that they're comfortable with you, it's back to your regular routine.

"honey i'm home!" you jokingly sing as you open the door and put your stuff down, shoes being slipped off and pushed to the bin of shoes. your face pales a little bit as you hear the heavy pads of feet. quickly, your stuff is thrown on the couch and you shut the door, plopping your body down in the middle of the living room. "tsumu! samu!" you giggle as the two large foxes jump onto you, forcing your entire body onto the floor. they're licking and sniffing at you, gently nipping you to pet them as you tell them about your day. to others, it may be crazy for you to be talking to a pair of foxes but you think they're smart enough to understand so you keep doing it.

"and here i was thinkin' ya came here to see yer best friend." you look up to see a smiling kita.

"hey shinsuke! it's good to see you!" you smile and wave at him. that moment is extremely short lived since tsumu whines loudly, nipping and pawing at your hand. you and kita laugh at tsumu's actions. "you raised quite the whiny attention lover, huh?" you raise a brow at kita as you scoop atsumu into your arms and press a gentle kiss to his head. this makes osamu perk up and paw at your shoulder. kita raises his hands up in mock defense and shrugs, mumbling a "not my fault they're so attached if ya practically live here and spoil em"

you glare at kita. he chuckles when the two foxes stare at him in an attempt to copy you. "i heard that. i don't spoil them!" kita arches an eyebrow and surveys his living room, surrounded by toys, play structures, a shelf of treats, and even two identical large dog beds with mini pillows. the two foxes look at you and you sigh. "fine, i do spoil them. but by now, i'm just as much of a fox parent as you are. isn't that right boys?" osamu just snuggles into your lap and atsumu wriggles out of your grasp so he can run around, making you pout.

"if it makes you feel any better, i think you make a great fox parent" "shut up, kita!"

[raymondebidochonlifechoices]

An overall rant about this season’s misery porn (and then, upwards!)

Darkness and shipping surprises have always been Riverdale’s m.o.

S1: it’s dark and we won’t do the Archie comics triangle!

S2: it’s dark and here’s Toni who might cause Bughead trouble!

S3: it’s dark and Archie goes to jail! What will become of Varchie?

S4: it’s dark and watch out for those resurfacing b*rchie feelings!

S5: our heroes are in a dark place, also: here’s b*rchie!

S6: it’s going to be dark and we have new couples!

The recycling method has been applied to the plot as well, with each season’s story line going absolutely nowhere: there is a mystery in the first episodes, followed by irrelevant filler material, followed by the denouement in the penultimate episode. By the end of the season, everyone is back where they started, since there is no real character development. The Riverdale protagonists are archetypical characters more than anything. And the supporting cast is bent to each new story line’s needs.

Shipping aside (although shipping has been Riverdale’s most attractive feature), these plots have been at least somewhat engaging.

In s1 we were discovering the characters (who were quite different from their counterparts in the comics) and their parents’ secrets. In s2 there was that dreadful gentrification b***s*** and Veronica gaslighting her friends (still salty about that) but, at least, there was the whole underdogs (Serpents) vs The Man (Hiram) vibe. In s3 we had a serial murderer who wore sticks on his head and a cult leader harvesting organs who wanted to ascend via rocket ship. Serial murderers and cult leaders should not be funny, but these ones were absolutely hilarious! S4 gave us Bret and Donna, Villains Extraordinaire, both wanting to kill and bone Jughead and Betty respectively. Those were the times!

And then, there’s season 5. Where everyone is severely traumatized and murders are happening by the f***ing bucket (both TBK and the Lonely Highway killer being active for years). And what is happening exactly in the Town Formerly Known As Riverdale is this: the situation is so bad that a lot of the town’s women (but never the men) have to become sex workers. And then, they get tortured and brutally murdered (off-screen so that it won’t matter). But -and this is very important- never raped. (Small -albeit hypocritical- mercies).

And how do our heroes try to remedy that? Archie saves dogs, Veronica prints monopoly money, Cheryl manifests the stigmata of the holy wounds of Jason, Jughead has a (what turns out to be) completely unrelated storyline about rabies and Betty, more invested in her own sister than anyone else, is a complete mess, because, evidently, Yale and FBI training made her forget how to sleuth.

I didn’t think there would be a more offending storyline than the gentrification one in s2 and, yet, here we are.

What is the premise of this astounding plot?

There is a family. One daughter has enough money to go through Yale (student loans and all but still). The other daughter is so destitute, she becomes a sex worker. Why? Well, it’s either because she doesn’t have enough money for her two children, whose super doting aunt is one of the wealthiest people in Riverdale (well, rich enough to keep a whole school up and working for a whole year) or to feed her drug addiction, because, you know, she couldn’t have done that on a waitress’ salary (although Jughead did manage to fend off loan sharks by becoming a busboy).

This. This is the premise of season 5. This is how sixteen professional writers plotted their season.

By the way, this is a list of the characters who were introduced in s5, and who -ultimately- had no actual impact in the storyline:

Eric

Chadwick Gecko

Glen Scot

Jessica

Cora

Samm Pansky

and, yes, I’m sad to say: The Pussycats

I’m positive that 5x18 and 5x19 will give rise to many a negative comment but I’ve decided that this will be my last negative post for the season. Enough is enough.

I’m not going anywhere though: there are funny summaries to be written, wonderful fics to be read, incredible art and gif sets to delight in, lovely people to discuss the things we do like about Riverdale, . Or, one can take a break. As @thepointoftheneedle once very sagely commented: this is not compulsory viewing. 

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Inyez

Rating: NSFW Length: 5331 Pairing: Male Bat Creature x Male Reader (both cis)

xxx

Winter comes early up in the mountains, but I'm used to that. I like to sit by my living room windows and look down into the valley where I work, enjoying the way the city lights give the snow a warm glow. I figure myself lucky; I come from a happy family, I have a good career in a field I love, and I've managed to make a home out of the old observatory that sits like a squat little guardian at the top of a hill twenty minutes from the city.

My job gives me incredibly flexible hours, so I work whenever I'm awake and sleep whenever I want to. I've ended up with a mostly vespertine sleep schedule, which means I get to watch the sunset while I break for lunch. I'm a workaholic, though, so this "break" usually means that I step away from active work and focus on replying to emails from clients or looking up resources and reference images for my latest project as the sun goes down, and this time is no different.

I don't even notice the dark settling around me until I realise that I've been squinting at my laptop for the past half hour, and by then, the only source of light is its screen. I have outdoor lights, sure, and there's a street lamp or two on the way up the hill, but they amount to nothing unless they're on or nearby. I sigh and close my laptop to give my eyes a break, waiting for my vision to adjust properly to the lack of light around me.

I'm just contemplating making myself another cup of coffee when the window beside me explodes, and I have no qualms with admitting that despite being over six feet tall, I scream like a frightened squirrel. Instinct takes over and I find myself taking shelter behind my chair, waiting for the glass to settle before I risk peering around it. Adrenaline has made my vision sharper faster, but there's only so much I can make out in the darkness. I know I heard something heavy hit the floor after the crash, but nothing moves in the shadows, so I take the risk and scuttle over to the nearest switch plate to flick the lights on.

There's blood on what's left of the window and the scattered glass, and wide smears of it left in skid marks across the floorboards. Whatever has bled on my flooring is crumpled halfway behind my couch between me and my kitchen, cutting me off from any makeshift weapons I could use to defend myself. I creep around the other end of the couch with all the exaggerated stealth of a cartoon cat burglar, getting my first real look at the thing. It's dark and huge—about the size of a very large dog, at least—and even as my fingers grope for something to defend myself with, I don't take my eyes off of it for a second.

I approach the wounded creature with a skillet in one hand and a broom in the other, using the broom handle to prod gingerly at the thing that seems to be bleeding out on my living room floor. The first few pokes don't garner any reactions from the beast, and so I grow bolder, sending a silent prayer up to whatever gods might be listening that the thing doesn't have rabies or worse. I feel myself grimace as I lift one large, leathery wing to see more of the creature, only to snatch the broom handle back and away.

Whatever it was was awake, and it had been staring right at me with large, luminous eyes.

It takes me several seconds to work up the courage to repeat the action, and only then do I notice that those eyes are dazed and unfocused, shock settling in as blood dribbles down along its flat face. The creature murmurs when I prod it again—nothing I understand, but definitely something meant to be words—and that's when I realise that the thing on my floor is not a what, but a who. I swear and pace in my kitchen while keeping the thing well within sight at all times, but eventually my conscience wins out; I can't just let them bleed to death in front of me. Even knowing this, I know I don’t have the skills for what I need to do, so I pull an earpiece on and dial my cousin on my cell phone, grimacing when I glance at the time on my oven.

The phone rings a few times before there’s a shuffling on the other end, and then her groggy voice mumbles, “Hello?”

“Hey, Maraia,” I say, taking my first aid kit from beneath my sink and slipping a chef’s knife into my belt just in case. “I need your help.”

“Cuz? Do you know what time it is? I just got to bed an hour ago!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s an emergency.”

I hear more shuffling, and then Maraia’s voice is much more alert. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Some sort of bat crashed through my window,” I say, hurrying over with my first aid kit and kneeling in the blood beside the lump on my floor. “It’s hurt real bad. Blood everywhere. It won’t make it to the vet if I don’t do something now.”

“You’re treating a wild animal?!”

“Maraia. It’s dying!”

“Fuck,” my cousin mutters, slipping back into her role as an ER nurse. “You owe me. Okay, tell me what you see.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, and try to turn off my anxiety as I listen to her expertise. First and foremost, I rush to apply pressure to a particularly ugly wound on the creature’s pelvis and thigh, cleaning and bandaging it up as best as I can once I’ve stopped the majority of the bleeding. This is about when I bump into the creature's, er, fiddly bits, barely hidden by a thick patch of fur. I work around them as I wrap him up in long bandages.

Per Maraia’s guidance, I check the creature's eyes and find wide, fixed pupils that indicate significant head trauma; it doesn't seem like he can see me, or even sense that I'm here. Still, I speak softly to him as I work, carefully picking glass and small twigs from open wounds and doing my best to clean and close them with a combination of butterfly closures and careful stitches. He whimpers and whines very softly when the discomfort is too great, but for the most part he hardly makes any sound at all, which Maraia and I agree is more worrying than if the creature were screeching and struggling with all his might.

Finally, after what feels like hours, I sit back on my legs with a sigh, certain that I’ve gotten to every wound that there is to be found. “I don’t think I can move it,” I say to Maraia, wiping my shaking hands clean with antibacterial wipes. “Not without popping something open.”

“You can’t keep it there with you,” she replies, using the same stern, reasonable tone that she uses on her children and patients. “Bats have rabies. What if it bites you?”

“I don’t think it can. I don’t even know if it will survive the night. For all I know, it’s haemorrhaging somewhere and this will all be for nothing.”

“All the more reason for you to take it to a vet! They can treat it there, maybe put it down if they have to. Whatever they decide will be better than what you can do at home.”

“I know,” I murmur, packing away my supplies. “Thanks, Raia. I’ll take care of it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Maraia sighs, and I can hear her exhaustion creeping back into her voice when she says, “Alright. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Sorry for waking you.”

“Oh, bull,” Maraia scoffs. “You were scared and came to me. That’s a good thing. Love you, kiddo.”

I can’t help but smile, despite my weariness. “Love you, too,” I say, and hang up once we’ve said our goodbyes. It would be cruel to leave this poor creature on my living room floor, so I haul my inflatable mattress out of storage and set it up in my bedroom, grateful for the large amount of floor space in the converted observatory. I check on my guest several times during the time it takes the bed to inflate, and then I carry him into my bedroom, careful not to jostle him too much when I place him on the air mattress.

I watch the shallow rise and fall of the creature’s chest for a moment before I look up into his elongated face, taking in his small, black, dog-like nose and the sharp teeth that I can see peeking out from behind parted lips. Two large, velvety ears poke up from the thick fur on his head, motionless in his unconsciousness.

From what I can tell, whatever this creature is appears to be around four feet tall, with long curled toes on each slender, delicate foot and sharp claws on the tips of his hairless fingers. He's barrel-chested from the musculature needed to support both arms and wings, with a slightly narrower waist and wide hips that lead to lithe, muscular legs. The majority of his body is covered in a short, dense layer of dark russet fur over deep brown skin, perhaps a shade or two darker than mine.

Whatever he is, I've read enough books and watched enough movies to know with certainty that I can't take him anywhere—not without possibly endangering him further. The last thing I want is this creature ending up dissected in a lab somewhere, or worse. I scrub my hands over my face and get up to go clean my living room, taking one last glance at the creature in my bedroom before closing the door behind me as quietly as I can.

The first night is harrowing. Batty—as I've taken to calling my guest in my head—has his first of three seizures shortly after I finish taping garbage bags over the hole in my window. I drop the duct tape and run to him when he lets out an unearthly wail, all of the air in his lungs being forced out by seizing muscles. There's nothing I can do but make sure that he doesn't hurt himself further, sitting vigil beside him until his convulsions die down and praying that he'll still draw breath when they're over.

He's unconscious for the entirety of the next day, so thoroughly insensate that I risk calling out a repairman to replace the broken window so that the cold stops seeping in. Other than supervising the appointment, I hardly dare to leave Batty's side, taking my laptop into my bedroom to do as much work there as I possibly can. I clean him up when he messes himself in his sleep, though I worry about him dying of dehydration. To prevent this, I pulse ice cubes in my blender and carefully feed him ice chips at first, being mindful of his body temperature by keeping him thoroughly bundled in blankets.

By the third day, Batty makes as if to swallow, and I drip water into his mouth in an effort to keep him hydrated. I don't know what he eats, so I climb into my car and make the drive into the city, buying a variety of potted baby foods with what I'm sure is a wild look in my eyes that keeps the cashier from attempting any small talk with me. I make it back to the observatory in record time, and though Batty doesn't stir when I waft different foods under his nose, I still manage to coax him into swallowing mixtures of meat and vegetables.

He runs a temperature that night, and I spend most of the early morning hours before dawn wiping him down with a cool cloth and stroking my fingers along his brow when he starts to shiver and mumble in his sleep. His fever finally breaks the following afternoon, and in the fading light of sunset, his eyes crack open. He's still exhausted and disoriented, though, so he only blinks sluggishly at me when I ask him gentle questions, eventually fading back into unconsciousness again. I figure it's progress.

Batty recovers slowly. For a long time, I only hear his voice when he mumbles in his sleep or when he whimpers as I tend to his wounds. Eventually, he begins to communicate with me using little humming noises, or he summons me from other parts of the house with plaintive chirps that break my heart. I carry him into the bathroom and find that he's fascinated by the toilet after startling at the sound of the first flush, though that's nothing compared to his awe when I decide to show off the shower. He's visibly disappointed when I deny his peeping requests to be carried under its spray, but he seems to understand when I explain that we should wait for his stitches to come out.

He gets a little stronger every day. After a couple of weeks, he's able to sit up for short periods of time as long as he's propped up with pillows. He holds his water bottle by himself a few days after that. Eating still takes more coordination than he's capable of, at least when it comes to utensils, but he's happy enough to nibble at the fruits I cut up for him. I take him out to the living room with me when he’s well enough, and there I play nature documentaries for him and keep him warm as the snow falls outside. He stares at the television in reverent silence when the voice of David Attenborough warbles through my speakers, and he spends the majority of the day curled around a couch cushion in a nest of blankets.

I learn that he’s as omnivorous as I’d hoped he’d be, and so I go to the store and get him a few different meats. I cook them with little to no seasoning at first, feeding him like one would a dog, but it isn’t long before he begins showing interest in my own meals, too. This urges me to start buying healthier food for myself; I figure that if I wouldn’t feed it to Batty for fear of his health, I probably shouldn’t be eating it, either. That doesn’t stop me from indulging in the odd treat, and his face when he tastes my favourite soft drink is priceless before he spits it out in shock, smacking his lips and looking at the bottle as though it’s bitten him.

“What?” I chuckle, taking the bottle from his hands and offering him a cloth. “Don’t like the fizz?”

“‘Fizz’?” Batty echoes, and I nearly drop the bottle before I can get the cap on.

“You can talk?” I ask, and I feel my eyes widen when he nods. “All this time?”

Batty hesitantly shakes his head, claws gently scratching at the cloth on his lap. “Don’t know,” he slowly replies, brows furrowing over his big, dark eyes. “I remember some. It’s hard.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, reaching out to stroke between his ears in a way I’ve learned soothes him. “You took a bad blow to the head. I’m sorry that I couldn’t take you to someone who could treat you better. I didn’t want someone bad getting their hands on you.”

Batty nods his understanding, sighing deeply and nosing up into my palm to guide my hand along his muzzle. “Wanted to say all this time,” he murmurs, his soft, fluting voice growing weaker. “Thank you.”

I smile; my heart warms. “I’m just glad that you’re okay. I’ll take care of you for as long as it takes. Do you have a name?”

He frowns again, briefly closing his eyes. “Inyez.”

“Inyez,” I murmur, testing the name in my mouth and finding it fitting. I introduce myself in turn.

Inyez’s face relaxes into a small, sleepy smile. He echoes my name, and doesn’t resist when I tuck him back under the covers.

“Rest,” I whisper, brushing my fingertips between Inyez’s eyes. They flutter closed and don’t open again as he lets exhaustion pull him under, and I turn down the lights to let him fall asleep to the sound of whale song.

Once I know that Inyez can speak with me, I go a little bonkers with the need to provide enrichment for my guest. It’s been a while since I’ve had the company with which to play games, so I’m at once overwhelmed and exhilarated when I stand in front of the tabletop game section of the city mall’s toy store. I grab classics like Jenga and Parcheesi, but I also pick up games like Tokaido, Wingspan, and Betrayal at House on the Hill. Inyez fawns over the beautiful illustrations and pretty trinkets needed to play each of the games, and he’s held rapt by the game mechanics and advancements.

I can’t help but mirror his delighted smiles, watching him delicately place tokens on the boards with his slender fingers. The furrow in his brow as he puts together jigsaw puzzles is incredibly endearing, and he’s quick to summon me from where I’m working to show me his accomplishments. “Come!” he cries. “Hurry, come see!” My name on his tongue is the sweetest sound to my ears, and I look forward to hearing it in that cheerful tone throughout the day.

I buy an extension for the desk in my office and give Inyez his own space while I work, though more often than not, he ends up watching my monitors at my elbow, marveling at my work and asking countless questions. At his urging, I show him my digital portfolio, where I have most of my character designs, logos, and even a few structural blueprints and landscapes.

“Where is this?” he asks, hardly daring to tap my monitor screen with a claw.

“Nowhere,” I say, enlarging the image so that he can drink in the details. “Nowhere real, anyway. It’s a fantasy world.”

Inyez frowns. “A fantasy world? But it looks so real.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I specialise in realism. There’s a lot of research that goes into it.”

Inyez doesn’t look entirely mollified by this response, but he subsides for the most part, only murmuring, “You even got the horns right.”

I turn my head to look down at him where he’s resting his cheek against my arm. “The dragon’s?”

“Yes.”

I can’t hold back my surprise. “There are dragons? They’re real?”

Inyez looks up at me, and I briefly get lost in his eyes. “Of course they are. They’re rare, though. Rarer than most everything else.”

“Rarer than you?”

Inyez bares his tiny sharp teeth at me in a cheeky little grin. “No. I’m one of a kind.”

I laugh, helplessly charmed. “That you are. Maybe I’ll draw you sometime.”

Inyez’s mouth drops open, eyes growing wider until I can just about see the whites. “Would you really? Me?”

“Why not?” I pull up a new canvas on my illustration programme, sketching up a quick little scene from the memory of looking down into his upturned face. He gasps softly at my side and shifts to cling to my shirt, murmuring in his strange language and making soft little cooing noises as I add colour and detail.

“Do I really look like that?” he breathes, looking from my face to the screen and back.

“Mhm.” I zoom in on the eyes, adding depth and highlights before moving to adjust the shape and fullness of the lips. Inyez goes very quiet for a few minutes as he watches the portrait come to life, only stirring to place his hand at the crook of my elbow to call my attention back to him. “What is it?”

“Do you really think I am so lovely?” asks Inyez, voice very soft and gaze shy.

I’m grateful for my dark skin as I feel warmth creep up into my face. “I do. You’re very beautiful.”

Inyez scoffs, but I can tell that he’s flustered. “You’ve only met one of us. Who are you to say that?”

“Sometimes one is enough,” I murmur, gently stroking Inyez’s small chin with a crooked finger. He makes an odd little twittering noise and hides behind his wings, and I feel my heart flutter wildly in my chest. I'm falling for this creature, I realise, and I can't bring myself to care; as far as I'm concerned, Inyez is the best thing to happen to me in a long time.

“Where do you go when you get into that terrible thing?” Inyez murmurs some nights later when we’re cuddled on the couch, his head on a pillow in my lap and my fingers gently stroking his head.

“In the car? To the city, mostly. To get food and toilet paper and other supplies.”

Inyez shifts to look up at me, confused. “You get food in that noisy place?”

I nod, brushing my hand along his cheek. “Everything we’ve eaten here, I’ve bought there.”

“But it doesn’t smell.”

“Smell?”

“The city. It smells, but the food doesn’t.”

I feel myself frown in thought. “Probably because a lot of it is washed and kept in clean places, or in airtight packaging.”

“I smell,” Inyez mumbles unhappily, tucking himself up in his wings. “When may I wash?”

I hum thoughtfully, rubbing one of his velvety ears between my fingers in a way that he likes. “Probably tonight, if we’re careful. If you really feel that bad.”

“I do.” Big, dark eyes look up from my lap, beseeching. “I don’t want to smell anymore. I want to be clean.”

“Alright,” I say, shifting to gather him up in my arms and carry him to the bathroom. “As long as we don’t scrub too hard or get your wounds too wet. I’ll still need to clean and redress them after we’re done.”

“You’ll wash me?” asks Inyez, a note of excitement in his voice. “Like lovers do! Could we be lovers?”

I can’t help but laugh, startled at the sudden change in conversation; I distract myself by fiddling with the shower controls. “We could be,” I reasonably reply, “if we both felt the same about one another.”

“Then we can,” says Inyez as he slips under the spray, cooing softly at the water’s warmth. “You think I’m lovely, and I think you’re lovely, too. It’s really that simple.”

“Is it?” I ask, dubious, even as I pull my clothing off and over my head to join him.

“Why does it have to be complicated? Is it more for humans? Is it not enough to feel safe and happy and goodness when I look at you? It’s like my heart has bitten a big, juicy apricot—it’s full of sweetness and the juice is overflowing!”

“A heart-apricot?” I chuckle, shaking my head at the silliness of the comparison. “Well, I’ll try to find you an apricot next time I’m in town.”

“Would you?” asks Inyez, burrowing against my chest and sighing. “I’d like that. I like you. Can that be enough?”

I run my hands carefully between his wings, earning myself a sleepy little burble. “I think it can.” I curb my enthusiastic reaction to this new turn of events and focus on gently cleaning Inyez’s fur to his satisfaction, and then I blow dry him until he’s warm and redress his wounds. By the time I carry him to bed—my bed, our bed—he’s limp as a noodle and snoring softly in his exhaustion, and I take great pleasure in tucking him in so that he’s safe and sound.

The next morning, I am kissed awake. That night, we kiss until we drift to sleep. Kisses and affection make up the bulk of my ‘duties’ as Inyez’s lover, and I take to the task of keeping him satisfied with relish. For his part, Inyez is content to groom me seemingly at random, running his small, clawed fingers delicately through my hair and humming to himself as he does so. I get a little less work done, but I don’t mind it if it’s to see Inyez so pleased with himself when he’s decided I’m primped to perfection.

It’s another couple of days before I give Inyez the all-clear to fly after his injuries have healed for a couple of months. We have to wait until nightfall until he takes to the air, but then he’s a dark blur against a darkening sky until I cannot see him at all. It makes me breathless when I realise that he’s lost to the night—what if, I think, he decides right then that he prefers the night and its freedoms to me? What if he misses his family, his friends, his former life. When he lands in front of me, panting and exhilarated and beautiful, I wrap him into my arms and crush him to my chest, burying my face against the side of his neck.

“What’s happened?” he asks, petting fretfully at my face and hair. “What’s wrong? Did you think I’d not come back?”

“Yes,” I say, and the word chokes me, making me realise that I’m crying.

“Oh, sweet one,” Inyez coos, wrapping me in his wings as best as he can. “I would never. Why would I? I am fed and loved and pampered, and you are a very good snuggler. You don’t even have fur, but you are very warm! Why would I leave, mm? Tell me.”

“I don’t know.” I laugh damply. “Missing your family. Your friends.”

“I’ll visit my family when my body is stronger,” Inyez tells me, tutting softly and nosing at my ear. “They deserve to know where I am, and they can come and visit us when the spring comes. They’ll be jealous of my roost and my mate.”

“Am I that?” I ask, sniffling and pulling away to look down into Inyez’s eyes. Inyez turns his face away, however, and I recognise that he is shy.

“You could be,” he murmurs, “but it’s not official yet. To do that, we have to—well, have sex. Hopefully more than once.”

“Do you want to?” I ask him, stroking between his wings so that they relax and rustle softly.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” Inyez says all in a gust, looking up at me plaintively. “I’ve been wanting to have sex with you for days. Weeks, maybe.”

I can’t help but laugh again. “You could have asked.”

“I could have.” Inyez pouts. “You would have said no, because of my wounds. You treat me like I’m fragile.”

“You are fragile, in comparison. But you’re right, I would have denied you. Now I won’t. So, ask.”

Big eyes blink up at me from that small, furry face, hopeful to their core. “Really? You’ll be my mate?”

I can feel myself grinning. “I’ll be your mate.”

Inyez wriggles against me, clutching at my clothing with a sudden fervour. “Mine?”

“Yours,” I assure him, drawing him against me and carrying him back up into the observatory. The next few minutes are a blur as we leave my clothing strewn across the apartment in a trail that leads to the bed, and I manage to find a bottle of lube I haven’t touched in months but mercifully has enough for at least a round or two.

Preparation happens before all else. Normally, this is the part where I would begin to lose interest because my previous partners have treated it like a means to an end, but Inyez is so sensitive and receptive that every little touch I give him sends him into a fluttering little tizzy on the bed. His prick is slick and red when it hardens out of its sheath, tapered at the end and thicker at the base. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I play with it with a careful touch that seems to frustrate and overwhelm the small creature beneath me in equal measure.

I drink Inyez in as he squeaks and squirms with my fingers inside him, watching his claws tear tiny little holes in the sheets as he grips them in his hands and trembles like a taut bowstring. When I finally push into him, he makes a noise like an exultation, and I fight to keep myself from coming right there and then when he wraps his legs around my hips and digs his feet into my ass to drive me in deeper. He wants more of me and I give until there’s nothing left to give, letting him adjust for a moment before I take up a rhythm that rocks the bed against the wall.

I need him, too, and I tell him so as I fuck him down into the mattress, listening to him mew and moan and say my name in a way more beautiful than any I’ve heard yet. He clings to the headboard when I roll him over onto his stomach, breathless and gasping raggedly, wings trembling like they’re weathering a storm.

“There!” he cries when I angle my hips a certain way, one of his hands diving between himself and the sheets to pump away at his hard, leaking cock. “Oh, please, there! There!”

“You want it?” I ask, and I hardly recognise my own voice, so low and guttural it is.

“Yes, gods, I want it,” Inyez mewns, almost sobbing with his need. “I’m close. I’m gonna—I’m—Please—“

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay!” Inyez squeaks, not a hint of hesitation in his desperate tones. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay, I’ll never leave this roost! I swear!”

“Yes,” I growl, pushing my chest down against his back and reaching a crescendo that makes the headboard hammer against the wall. I come so hard and so suddenly that it feels like I get pulled inside out from the toes on up, and my vision whites out to the sound of Inyez wailing beneath me. When I come around, we’re tangled together in the sheets and I have him on top of me, both of us panting heavily and both of my hands buried into the soft, downy fur at the small of Inyez’s back.

“Christ,” says Inyez, and I choke on a laugh, turning my head to cough.

“That’s not an expletive.”

Inyez grunts. “You use it like one.”

I laugh. “That’s fair.”

Inyez takes a long moment to gather his thoughts, stroking the skin of my torso with careful fingers. “Would you be willing to meet my family?”

I blink up at the ceiling. “Of course. How many of them are there?”

“I have six brothers and eight sisters. I’m fifth down in the birthing line.”

My eyes bulge. “How old is the youngest?”

“Tiisa? She’s six months old. The oldest is in her forties.” I can feel Inyez smother a smile against my chest. “Mother says she’s done for now. We don’t quite believe her.”

I laugh, shaking my head up at the ceiling. “I would offer them shelter for the winter, but I don’t think they’d all fit in here.”

“Oh, Mother would hate it here,” Inyez chuckles. “It would be much too quiet for her liking. She likes life with the roost. I’ve always preferred quiet. This roost is perfect for us.”

Us. The word makes my heart swell, and I bury a smile against the top of Inyez’s head. “We’ll figure something out for their visit.”

“Mm,” hums Inyez, sighing softly before he sits up and smiles impishly down at me in the darkness.

“What?”

“Again.”

“Again?” I laugh, wrapping my hands around Inyez’s hips as they begin to rock and wriggle on my lap. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Your monster,” Inyez smugly coos, kissing my chest right over my heart.

[hq-cuties-pls]

THE LOVE SCRATCHES SCENARIO WITH TSUKKI, SUGA, KAGEYAMA, IWAZUMI, AND AKAASHI? PLEASE AND THANK

We have decided to combine these two asks because there is a lot of overlap. Please enjoy the final hours before Haikyuu’s Return!~The Admins 

—–

Tsukishima: 

“Tsukki…” Yamaguchi shot him a wry smile from the other side of the club room. He nodded at Tsukishima’s back, indicating the mirror with a flicker of his eyes. 

“Oh, shit…” Tsukishima ran his hands over the deep, vivid scratches on his back. 

“You and ___ have a good time last night?” Yamaguchi shot him a wry look out the corner of his eye. His smile was borderline smug, and the way he ruffled his short bangs in the mirror was definitely an attempt to bait him. 

It worked. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” he growled, yanking his practice shirt on with perhaps a little too much force. 

“Mm-hm.” Yamaguchi shrugged, taking a seat to wrap his sprained ankle. “Whatever you say.”

 Tsukishima had never been more thankful for getting in the habit to show up first for practice, because he didn’t even want to think about what Kageyama or Hinata would say about all this. He’d talked to you about it, but in the moment, when you were under him and arching beautifully and blissed out and delirious, well… let’s just say he was a little distracted. 

“When did you turn into such a shit?” Tsukishima tugged his shirt down as if in effort to further conceal his back, smoothing carefully over the tender bits. 

“Once I was made Captain. I never knew why Daichi-san and Ennoshita-san were the way they were. Now I know it’s less a sports team and more a colony of feral cats. But I’m getting used to it.” 

“That’s good.”

“Just like I’m getting used to you and ____ and evidence of you two getting frisky.” Yamaguchi kicked at his hip with his good leg. “Seriously, you need to cut it out. What if the children saw? What if Yacchan saw?” 

“If Yachi-san is in here, then that means someone has had a stroke and no one is paying attention to my sex scratches.” Tsukishima neatly dodged Yamaguchi’s attack. “Seriously, Yamaguchi, you need to stop with the protective Dad schtick. You’re worse than Sawamura-san.” 

Yamaguchi scowled; “Just for that, I’m encouraging Hinata to slap your back later. As hard as he can. And you’ll deserve it.” 

Suga: 

“BWAH! Su-suga-senpai! What… what happened?!” 

Suga absently followed Hinata’s gaze, reminded of the evidence of your weekend alone with him on his back. He shrugged, trying to pass off the minor wince of pain as one of his shit-eating grins; “Oh, nothing. A Kitten got to me, is all.” 

“A kitten?” Kageyama poked his head out of his sweater, looking almost comically innocent. Suga hated to ruin it… almost. “Did you get a cat, senpai?”

Suga shrugged, his smile sharpening as he fought the ugly cackles that threatened to come out; “You could say that…”

Daichi groaned; “Oh, my god, Suga, Kitten is ____’s pet name, isn’t it. Don’t you fucking lie to me, you pervert.” 

“Such language, Daichi!” Suga put his hand over his (bare) chest in a pretense of scandal. “And in front of the children!”

“Says the guy who came into practice with SEX SCRATCHES? Suga, we talked about this–no marks in front of the kouhai!”

Asahi chose that moment to chime in, rubbing at his eyes like he had a migraine coming in; “And there goes all pretense of plausible deniability.” 

Suga packed up his neatly-folded school uniform, zipping into his team jacket with a definitive and sharp movement; “Bold of you to assume I ever had deniability. Besides, I said nothing. Daichi’s the one who outed me as a deviant.” 

“You are a deviant.” Daichi shot a narrow look at him, even if whatever rage may or may not be coming from him was basically nonexistent. “Why are you like this?” 

“Have to maintain my status as the pretty one, don’t I?” Suga ran a hand through his bangs, checking the tiny mirror on the wall before sauntering out. 

“How did anyone ever think you were Karasuno’s angel?” Daichi called after him.

Suga answered with a shrug, followed by a wince–you’d really done a number on him, regardless of how satisfying it was to aggravate Daichi’s Housewife Instincts.

Kageyama: 

“Hey, Kageyama! Nice sex scratches!”

“Hm?” Kageyama peeked over his shoulder at the long, bright red scratches running down his back. He scowled. “Those aren’t sex scratches. They’re cat scratches.” 

“Oh wow, that was a weak excuse, even for you, King,” Tsukishima said, pushing his dumb sports glasses higher up his face. “Sure those are cat scratches, and Tanaka-senpai is top of his class.” 

“Oi!” It was Tanaka-senpai’s turn to scowl. “That sounded like disrespect, Tsukishima.” 

“It was disrespect, Tanaka, keep up,” Ennoshita-senpai added. 

“RIP Ryuu,” Noya said with a smirk. “Don’t mind, don’t mind.”

“I feel like we’re getting off topic,” Kinnoshita said. “Suga-senpai is going to be heartbroken he missed this.” 

“The baby is growing up.” Narita wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye. “Kageyama went and got himself laid all on his own.” 

“What…” Kageyama blinked, unsure why the conversation was steering in this direction. ‘Laid?’ Like… laid down? Like a nap? “I don’t… yeah, I laid down at ____’s house and that’s how Tama got me.”

“Tama?” Hinata tilted his head, looking a bit like Tama when you opened a can of tuna fish. “Is Tama your weird pervy nickname for ____?” 

“No! He’s ____’s cat, you idiot!” 

“Ah.” Yamaguchi shrugged. “Seems he’s sticking with the cat scratches story.” 

“They are cat scratches!” 

“Sure, sure.” Yamaguchi patted his back, which just hurt… like a lot. “Come on, Kageyama. Get dressed. We won’t bother you about your…ah… “cat scratches” again.”

Kageyama scowled as he watched his teammates file out of the club room. Why did no one believe him about his cat scratches!? He’d have to ask you about it later…maybe you understood why everyone was laughing about it.

Iwaizumi: 

He should have known better.

He really, really should have known better. 

He’d even thought about it last night–he’d made sure you didn’t leave any marks that would show above the neck of a t-shirt, and he’d made a mental note not to change with the rest of the team.

A mental note that he completely forgot about until he’d gotten his shirt of and Oikawa let out a shriek.

“I-IWA-CHAN! MY EYES!”He dramatically slapped a hand over his eyes, covering them. “My poor, virginal eyes! How could you–no, how dare you besmirch this sacred space with your sex scratches!”

Iwaizumi closed his eyes, heaving a sigh and resigning himself to wait until Oikawa got it out of his system.

“Wait, sex scratches? For real?” Hanamaki said, and Iwaizumi groaned. Of course. Of course it wouldn’t be enough for Oikawa to see. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were like hounds on the scent, and once they got wind of it, they were never going to drop it. 

“Niiiice, vice-captain,” Matsukawa drawled. “She really got you good. Never took you for the kinky type, Iwaizumi.”

“MAKKI! MATTSUN! How dare you encourage this–this perversion in our sacred club room!”

“Ah, yes,” Hanamaki said, “The baked-in smell of sweat and dust. The pinnacle of sacredness, I’m sure.”

“The disrespect,” Oikawa said with a dramatic flair of his hand. “What about our kouhai, Iwaizumi? What kind of example are you setting for them?”

“D-don’t worry about us, captain!” Kindaichi said, though his cheeks and ears were bright, flaming red. “I mean, what Iwaizumi-senpai and ___-chan do in their spare time is none of our business, right?” 

“EXACTLY!” Oikawa shrieked. “None of our business. So he shouldn’t–shouldn’t make it our business by coming in here with his… his sex scratches!”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous,” Matsukawa said with a wicked grin.

“I–WHAT?! Mattsun, how dare you imply–I would never–I… you… GAH!” 

Oikawa, now red-faced himself, pulled his t-shirt forcefully over his head and stalked out of the room in a huff. As he left, he shouted over his shoulder–

“ANYONE NOT DRESSED AND ON THE COURT IN THE NEXT MINUTE IS DOING DIVING DRILLS!” 

Akaashi:

“Wow, Akaashi, your cat got you really good!” Bokuto said, staring wide-eyed at Akaashi’s bare back. 

Akaashi blinked twice, looking to the side and clutching his shirt in his hands. 

“Wait…”  Bokuto said, frowning. “You don’t have a cat. Did you get a cat?”

“N-no, Bokuto-san, I–”

“Oh! Does ___ have a cat?”

“No, she–”

“AKAASHI, WAS IT A STRAY?” Bokuto asked, grabbing Akaashi’s arms. “That’s really bad, you should go to the doctor! What if it had rabies?”

“Rabies was eliminated in Japan, like, 30 years ago,” Komi said, biting down a delighted smirk. “Don’t worry, Bokuto, I’m sure Akaashi is being safe. Right, Akaashi?”

“Y-yes!” Akaashi said, his cheeks flushing.

“Oh, so you went to the doctor?” Bokuto said.

Komi snorted into his fist, and Konoha slapped his hand against his forehead. 

“No,” Akaashi said, scrubbing a hand over his forehead. “Bokuto-san, there was no cat.”

“I–wha?”

“You see, captain,” Komi said, slapping a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, “when two people love each other very much…”

“It was ____, Bokuto-san. _____ left the scratches, okay?” Akaashi said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Now, if it’s alright, I suggest we start practice.”

Bokuto stared blankly for long enough that it became genuinely concerning. Akaashi could almost hear that weird, scratchy dial-up sound.

Konoha laughed; “I didn’t realize it was possible for a human being to Blue Screen, but wow, Bokuto continues to surprise.” 

A solid 15 or 20 seconds later, Bokuto exploded into the most brilliant blush ever seen in nature, sputtering dramatically as he tried to shove his head through the arm hole of his t-shirt. 

“Ah…” Komi said with a shrug. “And there he is. Really, Akaashi-kun, you should do something to protect his innocence. He isn’t ready for that.”

“My apologies,” Akaashi replied with a small smirk. “I’ll try to get ____ to be less…affectionate next time.”

Semi:

“I see you have been enjoying your… extracurricular activities, Semi,” Ushijima said in his usual near-monotone.

Semi stared back at him, his brow creasing. “I–I’m not in any other extracurriculars, though? Just volleyball. I mean–I am enjoying that, I guess?” He blinked in confusion, but Ushijima’s ever-stoic face gave nothing away.

“Eita-kuuun,” Tendou crowed, popping up over Semi’s shoulder. “I think Wakatoshi-kun was making a joke.” A catlike smirk spread across his face, and then one of his long fingers jabbed directly into the largest gouge you’d left in Semi’s back. Semi jumped, wincing at the pain, and then his eyes went wide.

“Oh–fuck.” Semi groaned, the memory of last night flooding back into his brain.

“Ahaha, there it is! Good for you, Semisemi. Make sure you put some ointment on those though, yeesh. Maybe tell ____ to trim their nails next time!” Tendou said before he pranced off to finish changing. 

Semi stared at Ushijima, who was–if he wasn’t very much mistaken–smirking. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was smirking. 

“I keep antibiotic ointment in my bag, if you would like to borrow some,” Ushijima said simply, an almost-imperceptible twitch to his eyebrow the only indication he wasn’t utterly earnest. 

Oikawa: 

A low wolf whistle interrupted the typical chatter in the club room, causing everyone to fall silent. Matsukawa was leaning against the door wearing a wide, lecherous grin. 

“Wow, Captain, color me impressed. I really thought you were all talk, but you and ____-chan have been busy, haven’t you?”

It was clear what Matsukawa was talking about–Oikawa’s bare, pale back was ravaged, the bright pink of the scratch marks all the more stark against his fair skin. Oikawa blinked twice, his eyes going wide as saucers before he abruptly spun around, putting his back to the lockers.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mattsun–”

“Well, Captain,” Hanamaki interrupted, “it would seem ____-chan has left some rather impressive marks…”

“THERE ARE NO MARKS,” Oikawa screeched, his face going as pink as the scratch marks curving over his shoulders.

“Come on, Captain,” Matsukawa drawled, “just yesterday you were bragging about you and ____’s escapades.”

“A gentleman doesn’t tell, Mattsun,” Oikawa said, his voice wavering as he sidled awkwardly along the wall. 

“Funny, because they say a picture’s worth a thousand words,” Hanamaki interrupted with a devilish grin, brandishing his phone. “And this one’s got plenty to say.”

“MAKKI!” Oikawa shrieked. Hanamaki darted out of the club room, and Oikawa lunged after him–still dressed only in his track pants. 

“Three… two… one…” Iwaizumi counted down under his breath, and right on cue a chorus of girlish screams broke out outside the club room, followed by Oikawa dashing back inside and slamming the door behind him. He fell forward against the wall, his head hitting the locker with a metallic thunk. 

“My life is over,” he moaned dramatically. 

“There, there,” Iwaizumi said, patting him firmly on the back right where the scratches were worst. “At least you had pants on.”