#just two more boss designs to go

[st4rstudent]

Winn + Mac fusion idea. lalala.

[tsuchinokoroyale]

[nexus-nebulae]

i think more people should play the Blue Skies mod in minecraft bc it is like. The best fucking thing

[arolesbianism]

I need to make a new pmd story right now or I'll explode

[blodeuweddschild]

Beaten cuphead btw (not the dlc though) and I gotta say. Beppi the clown is fucking evil and I hate him

[thedarklyblue]

give me a college without people leaving challenge

[eiilese]

what if the strawhats had different roles on the ship⁉️ i swapped everyone’s roles except for luffy because i can’t imagine him being anything but the captain

these are loose redesigns since their canon designs don’t really read as their roles all that much to begin with. some extra doodles and ideas for this in the cut !!

nami, vice captain: i took a lot of inspiration from her beta design!! canon nami already bosses everyone around so she fits right into the role. she wields an extendable staff (usopp still makes it for her); she lost her arm over the time-skip like how zoro lost his eye. i LOVE drawing cargo pants and boots, so she ended up with a sorta bottom-heavy design. frankly it’s probably not her style but i like how she looks

zoro, the cook: my foolproof logic is zoro uses swords = good with knives. he does not use katanas to cut produce however, just normal knives. i was trying to go for “sweaty ramen guy” with the towel around his neck. the majority of the shit he cooks would probably be drowned in alcohol. he also wears his bandana the majority of the time now!! it completes the ramen guy look

sanji, the sniper: i also took inspiration from his beta design for this!!! he has guns!! and perfect aim of course. i was going for more of a mafioso look so germa 66 would be like, a mafia organization on top of all the other villain shit they already do. he has two guns but i didn’t draw a holster bc that’s annoying🤞 he lights his cigarettes with his guns. how would that even work? don’t ask me

usopp, the navigator: his artistic talent lends itself to creating perfect maps! he also still tinkers, making nami’s staff as well as having a specialty for compasses. he uses a slingshot still (no perfect aim we gotta nerf him) and shoots weather-related projectiles. his goggles serve as binoculars, they can zoom to several different distances. i drew him in his zou outfit purely bc it’s my favorite one

chopper, the helmsman: he would predominately use heavy point while maneuvering the wheel. i changed his hat up to look more like a sailor’s cap, with an anchor symbol instead of an X. to be honest i don’t have much else bc helmsman doesn’t bring much to my mind :(

franky, the musician: ROCK N ROLL BABY YEEAHHH come on his stage presence is unmatched. he’s still a cyborg, he has instruments all over his body like apoo does but they were installed manually. his personality changes depending on what genre he’s playing but rock n roll is his default B) (ex. classical calls for a refined gentleman)

robin, the shipwright: her devil fruit gives her as many helpful hands as she needs! she developed nami’s arm (definitely installed some random shit she did Not ask for). she has a robot mecha that she’s able to pilot all by herself using clones. i changed her orange sunglasses to goggle eyewear

brook, the doctor: the irony of being nursed back to health by a literal skeleton 💀the irony of being the doctor of the rumbar pirates yet being the only survivor, saving no one from the poison 💀 i went for a plague doctor look! IM VERY HAPPY WITH HOW HE TURNED OUT i was really tempted to give him the plague mask too, but i feel that would’ve changed his appearance too much compared to the others

jinbei, the archaeologist: the shape of this man demands a little pair of round glasses on his face. he’s an intellectual i tell you!!! plus still a fishman karate master. the history of joyboy and fishman island being so intertwined is how he developed an interest in history

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 7: Firsts

Kyle bought you lunch before your set time. To make sure you ate, he said. He still asked about five times if you felt like you ate enough or needed water even after sitting across from you while you downed a to-go container of pad se ew and your fourth ounce bottle.

You just laugh and point to a piece on your knee. “Babes I got this with nothing but a trenta iced coffee and two hours of sleep in my system. I’m fine, I promise.”

John made a baffled noise at that. Kyle looked like he was going to throw up. That look remained as he went through the process of setting up in John’s studio room. Kyle is meticulous about it. Each step done with care. You feel a bit silly sitting around and twiddling your thumbs.

“Just breathe. It’s fine.” John murmurs in a low rumble that somehow has you relaxing more than the indented party.

“It’s almost more scary doing someone I know.” Kyle huffs.

You laugh. “Can’t be worse than the blown out piece of shit on my left arm. C’mon, I’ve seen what you can do. You’ve got this.”

John nods, sitting on the other side of you.

“Besides, even if it sucks I’ll still be honored to be your first real apprentice tattoo.” You pipe up.

Kyle chuckles, low and unsure. Part of you wants to give him an out, to say he doesn’t have to, but you can see the set of his jaw even as his eyes flick between his supplies and the stencil in his hand nervously. He’s determined as much as he is scared. There’s no getting him out of that headspace until he’s done.

You chose something easy. One of Kyle’s more dainty, simple flash designs for the back of your thigh, just below the curve of your ass. A little bow with minimal shading. Something he’s practiced a thousand times and an easy enough starting point. Plus, you already mentioned having him do a matching one on the other side when he’s ready for it. Easy practice.

“C’mon, at least get the stencil on before you have a panic attack.” You try to keep your voice light, turning your back to him.

Kyle sighs. You hear his stool roll forward as he scoots in close to place it. John shuffles around to stand over him. A nasty part of your brain complains about exposing your cellulite to these two fit men but you push that deep down into nothing. A second, more embarrassing part wonders if you should have chose a more appropriate spot… that maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of your boss and coworker in teeny-tiny biker shorts that barely cover you. You shove that down right next to the other mean thoughts.

You pointedly ignore the heat that shoots up your spine as Kyle’s hands feel out the shape of your thigh to get it centered - keeping your eyes forward as he slowly presses the paper against you. You could swear a thumb traces the curve of your cheek as he smoothes it but that’s probably just wishful thinking.

“Good job, kid.” John claps a hand on Kyle’s shoulder as soon as the paper is pulled away. You turn around in the mirror to check it, expecting to probably have to move it, but from what you can tell it really is perfect.

“Damn, dude, on your first try!” You grin, clapping happily.

Kyle nods stiffly, but you see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. You unceremoniously clamber onto the table, moving around so your back doesn’t hurt from laying flat for the next few hours with your arms folded under your head.

“Hey.” You whisper while John steps away to grab something. “Get through this without freaking out and I’ll give you a reward.”

“A reward?” He tilts his head, smile turning from an nervous curl of his lip to a boyish grin.

You jokingly bat your lashes. “I’ll give you a kiss.”

Kyle chuckles. “With tongue?”

You gawk, face hot. “Mr. Garrick! Where’d my knight in shining armor go?”

“Just tryin’ t’ figure out exactly what I’m workin’ toward.”

You hum, pretending to mull it over. “We’ll see. Depends on how well you do.”

Kyle levels a look at you, something heated as his lip catches between his teeth. It’s only there for a moment, gone as soon as he turns to his tools. Replaced by a laser focus.

“Alright.” John settles back into his seat on your other side. “Let’s do one line and then see how we all feel.”

Kyle nods. You shuffle a little to make you’re you’re as comfortable as possible for the next however long. You know it’s going to be a while even if it isn’t a simple design. He’s new and precise with means slow.

The familiar whirr of the gun starts up. You shut your eyes, waiting, hoping that you aren’t projecting any more tension into the room than Kyle is. The needle stings when it finally touches you, but not as badly as you braced for. His touch is light.

He pulls the gun away and let’s put a giant sigh. “How y’feel, luv?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m all good. You?” You tilt your chin a bit to meet his eye.

“Better now that it’s started.”

“Good.” John nods, chest bumping your leg as he leans forward to look. “Looks good. Keep on.”

The room is nearly silent as he works. You turned down the music before coming back so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed - at least that was your reasoning. You’d get overwhelmed. Kyle is more levelheaded than you are, though.

“Thassit.” John smiles - or at least that’s how it sounds in his voice. “Her skin takes ink so well, yeah?”

Fuck, that totally should not do it for you. Gravelly voiced British bastard. You keep your eyes locked onto the flash on the far wall as you attempt to cool down.

Kyle just hums, seemingly unable to talk as he concentrates. He probably is with how dialed in he looks. You take a break before he gets to shading, stretching and getting some water. It takes a while, but not as long as you assumed. You start to get that ache in your skin partway through the shading - that feeling when your nerves are so tired from firing off pain receptors they just all sort of start burning dully.

However long later Kyle pulls away. “I… think it’s done?”

“You think?” John challenges.

Kyle sighs before speaking with more finality. “It’s done.”

There’s a few beats where John assess and you hold your breath. He points to a couple spots where Kyle’s hand slipped a bit or he applied too much pressure, but when you check it out in the mirror yourself you don’t see that all. Perfectionists.

You can’t help but squeal and jump, clapping happily and barely standing still while Kyle puts the saniderm on. You’re just to happy! Not only did Kyle get his first tattoo done but now you have brand new (free) cute ink to show off. Kyle looks tired, though, so you try not over overwhelm him while he cleans up. Concentrating like that with anxiety must have really taken it out of him.

You sort of forget about your promise of a reward for the next week. Too busy focusing on taking care of your new tattoo. The only downside to the placement is sitting in your office chair itches - especially once you take the saniderm off. You’ve mostly taken to standing while working and wearing shorts and skirts to let it breathe. It’s worth it, though. You’ll have to ask Kyle how soon he wants to do the other one. Without being pushy, of course.

You quietly hum to yourself as you get the cash drawers ready to lock away in the backroom safe. Triple checking the bags and making sure tips are divided correctly, etc.

“Hey, lovie.” Kyle saddles up behind you suddenly, hands on your hips.

You jump. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. A hand slips down your hip, palm tracing the hem of your tennis skirt to lightly rest over the little bow. “How’s she healin’?”

“It’s, uh, it-“ You stutter, eyes wide and skin hot. If it were Johnny, you’d laugh and swat him away - maybe let his hand wander to your ass first - but Kyle doesn’t do this. Not that you don’t like it - the problem lies in that you’re liking it too much. If the patter of your heart is anything to go by. “It’s good. Not itching yet or anything.”

Kyle hums. “Good.”

“Th-that all?”

“Think you forgot somethin’.” He turns you around, hands firmly planted on the softness of your waist. When you just give him a bewildered look he continues. “I was promised a reward, I think.”

“O-oh?” Your face burns, eyes wide. Is he serious? Part of you wants to say no - to push him away. You’re coworkers, after all. Until your eyes meet his, so big and warm and his lips forming a perfect pout. “John….?”

Kyle chuckles ans crosses his chest. “John won’t care. Cross my heart.”

He gives you a moment to mull it over. You don’t think he’s making fun of or bating you - Kyle wouldn’t do that. There’s no way he’s interested either. That’s one delusion you can firmly plant in the ’purely imaginary’ category.

Whatever. What do you have to lose from a little back room make out?

Your lips meets his. Fuck, they’re soft. He steals your breath - greedy and gentile. It’s been so long since you’ve been kissed, much less kissed well. One of the hands on your waist moves to your low back as Kyle leans into you. Your hands grapple onto his shoulders to steady you. He takes advantage of your gasp at being tilted back to swipe is tongue between your lips.

You mould together, breaths heavy and tongues dancing. A needy, pathetic little part of you wishes the hand that drifted from your waist to your hip would hook under your thigh. That Kyle would tilt you all the way back onto the desk and throw your leg over his shoulder, eagerly pushing up your skirt-

An ‘I love you’ dances on the tip of your tongue and you reel back harshly, hand flat on his chest to separate you.

“Alright?” He murmurs, eyes half lidded and dark.

You swallow roughly and nod, breathing hard. “I, uh, I need to finish the safe.”

Something passes across his face briefly as your eyes flick between his. Whatever it was, it’s replaced by his usual easy smile as he returns to standing at his full height, the hands on your waist steady you before disappearing. Your stomach drops as they go.

“See you tomorrow.” Kyle murmurs, pressing one last little peck on your cheek before striding away, leaving you alone in the back room with a hot face and whirlwind thoughts.

Fuck.

A/N: brought to you by the time a tattoo artist told me my skin takes ink well in the most haunting bedroom voice I’ve ever heard😵‍💫 killed me right then and there

[foxstens]

i love the inverted castle but the clock tower freaking sucksssss

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)

A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.

Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence

Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten

[Part 2] | [Part 4] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.

"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual." 

Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."

Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth. 

"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"

Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.

"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"

True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship. 

So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).

"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"

The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.

"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave. 

The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you. 

With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window. 

That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing. 

That settles it. 

"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.

A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.

Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. 

Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with. 

"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."

"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless. 

There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency. 

"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.

There's always a next time.

The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant. 

Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops. 

"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.

"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"

Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.

The yakuza is taken aback. 

"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily. 

"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...

He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up. 

"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"

He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend. 

"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.

"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly. 

"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza." 

The two men exchange a knowing look.

You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts. 

You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your  coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.

You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.

As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly. 

From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?

You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger. 

You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry. 

"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.

Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.

"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably. 

"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape. 

The blonde man stares at you. 

"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"

"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.

Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.

"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"

Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it. 

As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.

"Y-you thought we were dating?"

"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."

"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach. 

You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.

"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?" 

You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body. 

"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up. 

Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm. 

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm. 

You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.

"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."

"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.

"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.

"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."

Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part. 

Bonus: Daitou's backstory 

"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"

Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.

"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect. 

"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."

"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas." 

After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up. 

"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"

He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.

"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."

"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement. 

"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"

You nod.

"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."

You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances. 

"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"

The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.

"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."

Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry. 

"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid." 

He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you. 

"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.

They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."

You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection. 

"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.

Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.

I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.

We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.

You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."

You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.

"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up. 

He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat. 

You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus. 

That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."

You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair. 

"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.

Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."

Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.

"Or for you. Especially you."

[xinganhao]

🧸 svt checking in on an overworked!reader.

anon → "Can I request texts from SVT who are crushing on yn who is working late, checking on her and offering to buy delivery food since she hasn't eaten?"

⌗ ┆the way this request #healed me.. ty anon. (*´ -`)

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: overworked!reader, tired!reader, lots of fluff :(, svt caring for reader, headcanons under the cut.

🧸 headcanons .ᐟ

seungcheol doesn't ask you if you want something; he just gets it for you. he'll get delivered what he thinks is best for your current state or something he knows you'll like. it could be a meal, could be a little trinket. money is of little object when the concern is making sure you're ok. see also: sets a special text ringtone for you, quietly plans a spa day for you to destress once the worst is over.

jeonghan won't go to sleep until you do. his check-ins seem nonchalant, but make no mistake. he's more likely to crash with his phone in his hand, having waited for your reply. see also: teases you that you should quit your job and he'll provide for you, enthusiastically wake-up calls you when you ask for it.

a design program? some excel formulas? joshua will learn anything and everything if it means he can help you, even a little. he'll never force you to give him your work, but he just wants you to know that the option is there. see also: makes you room sprays for days when you're work from home, gives you all the best gossip when you need a break.

junhui's tactic is a little backhanded, but he's genuine enough to pull it off: he gives you something to look forward to. whether it's a trip to an amusement park or the newest movie in cinemas, he's already securing you your much-needed break. see also: watches 'healing' dramas with you, gifts you pillows/blankets/pajamas as a 'gag' gift (when he really just hopes you'll rest more).

if he's not sending silly selfies of himself, soonyoung is bombarding you with photos of latte! he likes to think latte's cuteness eases some of your stress. (although he's also the first to insist that he's much, much cuter.) see also: gets genuinely offended on your behalf when your bosses/clients don't treat you well, takes you to rage rooms after particularly busy weeks.

wonwoo is always on the lookout for listicles about things-that-make-work-easier. he'll buy you a certain type of snack or get you a brand of coffee if someone vouched for its quality. he has a very 'don't-mention-it' vibe about how he cares for you. see also: wordlessly sends you openings to jobs he think will treat you better, asks often about whether your eyesight is worsening because of all your late nights.

it's no surprise that jihoon can be just as overworked as you; what is surprising is his easy willingness to co-work. he'll give up his studio for the night and focus on lyrics or something else entirely if it means keeping you some proper company. see also: buys convenience store meals for you, pries your laptop out of your hands when even he knows that it's been too much work.

mingyu will cook your tupperware after tupperware of meal prep if it makes your life easier. he does it under the guise of experimentation when, truthfully, he just wants to know that you're doing well while doing whatever you have to. see also: drives you wherever you need to go, won't move an inch if you fall asleep on him at any point in time.

seokmin is the type who likes to facetime while you work. you don't even have to talk to him; the two of you often do your own thing, and he just stays around for as long as you need him. see also: sends voice recordings of him belting your 'comfort' songs, showers your work in compliments if you ever tell him of the results/show him the finished product.

minghao is not in the business of assuming what you may or may not need; he much prefers that you let him know yourself. he's usually not so persistent, but he's adamant about not skipping meals. he's always willing to relieve you from the burden of choice— just say the word. see also: sends you guided meditation tiktoks, buys you cute office materials that he thinks you'll enjoy.

seungkwan believes that, in situations like these, photos speak louder than words. he'll send you a lot of uplifting memes that may seem insincere coming from anyone else, but you know that he means every single one of them. see also: always makes sure you have snacks in your home pantry, actively listens and responds to your rants about work.

vernon lets music do the talking. he's the type to curate very specific playlists for your situations; you've received a handful, from 'cramming a report' to 'i hate my boss'. see also: keeps a running list of films that he wants to watch with you when you're no longer busy, reads up on the terms you mention because he wants to understand what your work entails.

chan just— shows up. whether or not you're prepared for it, he'll come at the most ungodly hours, bearing anything from tubs of ice cream to fast food takeout. he either sticks around to just exist in your space or heads right home after; all he wants is to see with his own two eyes how you're doing. see also: sends you 'this is a sign to quit your job!' memes, (jokingly) vows to exact revenge on the company that has you working so hard.

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 3. New Trails

Masterlist

Summary: You and Riley take the beaten path to defeat boredom. Simon realizes that the seed of his new obsession has been planted.

Warnings: mild cursing, obsessive behavior

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

Simon sat stoically on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

Next ->

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[vxsellie]

UHH IM THER PERSON WHO ASKED FOR FIREFIGHTER!ElLLIE HEADCANONS AND TBH IDRM😇

synopsis. more aflame headcannons bc anon sent a second ask saying they actually want it to be specific LMAO

notes. when i tell you my inbox is flooded with questions about aflame / whether there will be a part two / etc etc etc, i mean it's FLOODED. ive said no to a part two, but i decided doing this for u guys might settle u down & put a rest to the millions of asks i get daily on that fic also! i already posted a small thing about ellie & the reader's life together following the story, but i will be repeating things from that post

warnings. mentions of grief (unnamed character dw), discussion of infant death (also unnamed but still a bit heavy), eventual sex (not necessarily smut but enough that i feel i should put a warning)

𐙚 after everything, you ended up staying with ellie for about a month

𐙚 okay so you obviously ended up staying with her & lived happily ever after

𐙚 but lets yap about the slow burn era that inevitably took place beforehand shall we

𐙚 first of all! for the first two weeks, she gave you her room and insisted on sleeping on the couch. you, of course, felt horribly guilty. but ellie was set on giving you the good option & she's quite the force to be reckoned with when she's arguing.

𐙚 so you eventually just gave in and slept in her bed.

𐙚 it was warm and clean and smelled like her. you loved it. the only thing it was missing, however, was her.

𐙚 to make matters worse, you knew ellie was only a short distance from you & yet it felt like you were eons apart. you felt the empty space in her bed like a hole in the earth, always hard to face whilst simultaneously always begging for your attention.

𐙚 understandably, these two weeks spent in separate sleeping quarters was nigh unbearable for you. but you felt out of place to bring it up. i mean, you'd only known her for a short amount of time. who were you to tell her to change the layout she'd si graciously designed for you?

𐙚 you spent the nights yearning for a woman whose touch you'd barely known, cold despite the heavy blankets atop you.

𐙚 but the days were amazing.

𐙚 you'd developed the habit of cooking breakfast after making it that first morning as a thanks for her hospitality. but after seeing the bright look on her face, you'd instantly decided you wanted to make her breakfast every day for the rest of your life.

𐙚 then, following breakfast, you'd get ready in the small bathroom. the first few days, you bumped into one another an immeasurable number of times, ellie apologizing over & over for the lack of space. but you loved it. it felt more intimate, seeing her rush while brushing her teeth because she'd woken up late. it felt like a life you could get used to. one with her.

𐙚 ellie continued to go to work, throwing on her uniform that you tried your hardest not to swoon over seeing her in. that thin black tank top she wears without a bra? fuck you had to force yourself to look away when she stretched her arms up to brush her hair.

𐙚 when she was gone, you spent your time looking for a new place to stay, lazing about the couch with the tv playing low in the background.

𐙚 oh and also! your fucking boss fired you. despite having worked at that stupid grocer for a year now, he didn't hesitate to fire you after missing a few days. you'd even told him that your apartment burned down. he was insistent that punctuality was key. god you hated him.

𐙚 though, your hatred dulled in comparison to the pure rage ellie felt when you told her the news. she was absolutely appalled that someone could be so inhumane as to not give a damn that your home was now a pile of ash on some pavement. she begged you for his number, promising not to say anything bad. but you knew her better than that. you knew she'd call him insults that'd destroy his elderly pea brain. so, apologetically, you refused her his phone number.

𐙚 so, while ellie was away, you also browsed your laptop for open job opportunities near you.

𐙚 ellie said that she could talk miller into hiring you, but you weren't so sure the life of firefighting was for you. plus, you liked seeing ellie in her uniform without having to experience the obligations that come with it.

𐙚 when ellie got home from work every day, she'd be sweaty and gross and exhausted. she'd formed the habit of flopping down on the couch as soon as she gets home, but you've managed to rid her of that once you saw the grimy muck she'd left on the cushions. she's now learned to shower and change before getting on any furniture. honestly, she seems to like that habit more anyway. she refuses to admit it, but you can tell she enjoys the warm water relaxing her muscles and washing away her fatigue.

𐙚 amber also loved it there, alternating between cuddling up with you in ellie's bed or snuggling at ellie's feet on the couch.

𐙚 well, until the day you guys decided to sleep in the same bed.

𐙚 she had come home after a particularly taxing day at work — the first rescue she'd carried out since saving you. it was a single mother and two twin infants. one of the twins didn't make it, sending the mother into a grief ridden spiral. she was sobbing and angry and needed someone to blame. she ended up blaming ellie, the woman whose name she didn't even know. it was horrible. not that ellie could blame her for it. grief comes in every shape and form, and for this woman she just so happened to take the sharp end of the sword.

𐙚 ellie, being who she was, stayed relatively composed during the event itself. the woman banged on her chest as she wailed, shouting that she should have done more and she would have preferred to have burned.

𐙚 eventually, one of Ellie's coworkers dragged the woman away from her and ellie was excused to go home early.

𐙚 when she got back, she was absolutely distraught.

𐙚 you had just made a new recipe and were waiting in the kitchen for ellie to return with a bright grin on your face. but the moment she walked through the door, your smile shattered.

𐙚 her uniform was scorched and torn, her face lined with filth. and, oh, her expression was heart wrenching. her lips were parted, eyes blank as they stared at the floor. she trudged into the living space, shoulders trembling ever so slightly, and flopped down onto the sofa in a manner you hadn't seen her do in quite some time.

𐙚 you were quick to rush to her side, crouching down beside her as you asked what happened. in a shaky voice, she explained that she'd gotten a baby killed. the pure regret and guilt in her tone made your heart crumble a little in your chest.

𐙚 you moved to sit on the edge of the couch, pulling ellie into your arms as you held her. the feel of your body against hers was all it took for her to break down into tears.

𐙚 she tried her hardest to remain dignified, tears falling silently. but when you began to run your hands through her hair and mutter sweet words of consolations, her cries were less orderly as she clung to you and repeated over & over how it was all her fault.

𐙚 for the rest of that night, she was unable to leave your side. she made you sit on the toilet while she showered. then she made you stay in the bathroom while she changed (you turned around). then you two ate dinner together on the couch while watching a funny adult cartoon to cheer her up, your legs touching at all times.

𐙚 so, when it came time for bed, you'd have been cruel not to offer her the empty space beside you.

𐙚 to say she was excited would be an understatement.

𐙚 you guys laid in silence for a bit, comfortable in the company of the other. but then she spoke into the darkness, her tone thick with the weight of all she'd bore that day. she explained everything in more detail, telling you the story without the bias of her guilt.

𐙚 her voice cracked when she got to the boy's death, her voice pitching higher as she fought a second wave of tears.

𐙚 you shifted toward her, sheets rustling in the darkness. you felt around for her, hand eventually finding her body. you pulled her into a warm embrace, holding all of her vulnerability and grief in your two arms as she relaxed into you, melting against the foreign gentility.

𐙚 after that night, you guys started sharing the bed.

𐙚 amber loved it, of course. both her people in one space? absolute heaven for the elderly cat. some nights, she would curl up in the crook behind your knees & other times she'd find comfort atop ellie's face, causing her to wake coughing and hacking up balls of fur.

𐙚 your guys life was one of (much deserved) bliss and domestic comfort after a long period of difficulty.

𐙚 you had yet to do anything actually romantic. but sharing the home felt just as intimate as kissing would have been. though, you ought to admit, you definitely had your fair share of fantasies when it came to that.

𐙚 anyway!

𐙚 and all the while, you sought out a new place to stay

𐙚 you didn't want to move out of ellie's tiny cottage of a home, but you'd have felt horrible asking her to stay permanently when your relationship wasn't even a solidified thing just yet. and so, you searched the internet for worthy places to house you.

𐙚 ellie avoided the topic of you finding a new home, changing the subject whenever it came up & trying to distract you with something else whenever she saw you were looking at houses. you caught on to this, of course. but frankly, you found it endearing and just let it be. you didn't want to draw attention to her blatant distaste for you leaving, for fear that it'd embarrass her. so you feigned oblivion.

𐙚 ellie went with you to every open-house, claiming she just wanted to watch out for creepy realtors. however, whenever you seemed to genuinely like a house, ellie would find something to complain about to make you no longer want to buy it

𐙚 at first, you let it slide because you knew the two of you were beginning to form some kind of bond.

𐙚 but you eventually had to butt in when you spotted her paying off a realtor when they'd both thought you were checking out a different room. she apologized endlessly for it, but never gave an explanation until you practically forced it out of her, asking what the hell she thought she was doing.

𐙚 that's when it all unraveled.

𐙚 on the property of some random shabby house in an impoverished neighborhood, in a kitchen composed of rotted wood cabinets and peeling wallpaper and chipped floor tiles, ellie confessed her feelings for you. and it couldn't have been more perfect.

𐙚 the realtor had obviously left the scene beforehand, fleeing from shock when you'd walked in on him accepting a wad of cash from ellie.

𐙚 and there you stood, in the hollow house, her words of adorations echoing off the walls. her eyes were everywhere but your face, avoiding making eye contact with you. eventually, you'd grown sick of her rambling and just grabbed her by the cheeks and kissed her.

𐙚 it was a quick peck. a small pressing of lips, just to test the waters and silence her uncertainty. when you pulled back, her face still between your hands, her pupils were blown and her jaw was slackened. you laughed at her, a chuckle rumbling your chest.

𐙚 she gasps, offended by your judgement. but you couldn't stop laughing. she eventually reconnected your mouths, her turn to silence you.

𐙚 this kiss was far more passionate, her hands coming to rest on your hips as her tongue slid across your lower lip. you opened your mouth to allow her entry & she took it vehemently, tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth.

𐙚 from then on, you guys were inseparable in a whole new fashion. the moment you'd gotten home that day, she dragged your straight to the bedroom and memorized the curves and dips of your body with her tongue, giving so much care to your being that you were sure she'd eventually run out of love to give.

𐙚 your hands gripped the tufts of her hair as she buried her face between your legs and continued her memorization down there, your head thrown back in pleasure.

𐙚 you'd eventually lost count of how many rounds the two of you went, a thick layer of sweat clinging to your skin as she shyly asked if you had anything left in you. and of course, you could never deny her anything. you giggled before rolling over to tackle her to the bed, eyes full of nothing short of love.

𐙚 you two only stopped when pounding could be heard on the door.

𐙚 ellie rushed to pull her clothes back on as you did the same, her voice shouting at the visitor to just wait a damn second. though, when she opened the door, it was agnes.

𐙚 she pushed past ellie and went straight to you, though you were still pulling a shirt over your head.

𐙚 she beckoned the two of you to the living room, you and ellie both flushed and out of breath as you sat down across from her. every time you two made eye contact, you had to look away before you hopped right across that table and fucked her again.

𐙚 agnes made small talk for a little bit, asking you about work & whether you'd found another place to stay. though, when you shyly explained that you were planning to live with ellie, she scoffed loudly and said,

𐙚 "oh, finally! i was waiting for one of you to tell me. i'm not a fool, dear, i can tell you've been fucking like rabbits. just didn't know i'd have to force it outta you."

𐙚 from there on out, it was no longer awkward. she was herself again, making suggestive comments to you and passive aggressive ones to ellie. and when amber came up to her for cuddles, she stayed for another two hours just holding the cat.

𐙚 needless to say, you and ellie managed quite well. you have yourself the most perfect life you could ask for and all the family you could need (even if it's just agnes barging in on you guys whenever she pleases). honestly, you couldn't ask for anything else.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: F.L.U.D.D. (Flash Liquidizer Ultra Dousing Device)

Debut: Super Mario Sunshine

F.L.U.D.D. was Mario's first ever Platforming Buddy! Unless you count the Lakitu Bros. from 64, but they just operate the camera and don't affect Mario's platforming moveset, so I do not. So really, F.L.U.D.D. is- hold on, I really don't want to write every individual period each time I write its name. I'm just going to leave all the periods at the end of the post and you can put them where they belong yourself, or anywhere else you think is funny. Or you can keep them, I don't mind. Put them on a bagel and tell a friend they're poppy seeds!

FLUDD is a big deal. A landmark for the series in terms of mechanics. Not that these specific mechanics returned, but the concept of a buddy granting Mario some new abilities has become a recurring thing. FLUDD even talks, and is fully voice acted! In a robot voice! Like mine! A cute and silly little robot buddy for Super Mario.

So then... why don't I absolutely LOVE it? I feel like I should! But I'm just not getting that urge to imagine it driving a kart or playing tennis like I do with far less important characters. Does it work so well as a Tool that I have a hard time viewing it as a Character? Let's See!

I think FLUDD's design is honestly kind of perfect. The two massive screws that evoke eyes are really clever, and especially great is that they give it + shaped "pupils"! Aside from that, the nozzle's funnel shape is an extremely funny shape for a mouth, and FLUDD does indeed speak out of there. Excellent head! Though I feel like the excitement fizzles out once you look past the head, because the rest is much more "equipment" than "character". That's fine, this IS a piece of equipment! It just makes it feel less like a character, when I'd like it to have a bit of a balance of both. Maybe if the handles also functioned as little feet that it could walk around on? I don't know. Maybe that would be stupid... but I do love when creature designs are stupid!

FLUDD was made by E. Gadd, but that's all the backstory we get. We never learn why it was just there on the Delfino Airstrip, and that's really weird! The perfect tool to combat the game's main conflict is just there immediately when Mario arrives. It could have been a cool little mystery, but I guess the reality is just that some Pianta ordered it when the Goop Incident happened and got express delivery. Or maybe someone already had it and was just waiting for a calamity like this to happen, to justify the purchase!

I don't need to go over everything FLUDD does, right? I'm not the Super Mario Wiki, it's not my job! I'm here for the Weird. And a weird thing is that FLUDD freaken dies.

During the final boss against Bowser's Hot Tub, FLUDD starts stuttering, as if breaking down. And then in the final cutscene... it Dies! Mario goes to it, it tells him it hopes it was of assistance, and it dies. And Mario is sad, because this was his friend. But then in the very next scene FLUDD is back! Some Toads fixed it and it's fine now. So this ends up having the emotional impact of Mario needing to change the battery on his TV remote.

Even though it's our and Mario's friend, FLUDD is still an object, a product. It's technically not just FLUDD, but A FLUDD, one of many, mass produced. I have to wonder if it actually formed any bond with Mario, or if it was a one-sided friendship. Is it even capable of friendship...?

Whatever the case, the others absolutely consider FLUDD a friend, and well, that's just so sweet. During the credits we get to see some extremely compressed pictures of Mario and friends enjoying their real vacation, and FLUDD is there with them! It's not even on Mario's back anymore, or always WITH Mario, for that matter. Sometimes it's hanging out with Peach and some Toads, sitting there independently. I think it is safe to say FLUDD is a real true friend, and likes to just Hang Out sometimes! Even better, maybe it wasn't originally sentient, but learned how to love over the course of the adventure. Such a wonderful robot thing to do!

As expected, thinking in depth about FLUDD has absolutely endeared me to it. Hooray! It's about time. Well, it's too late for FLUDD to be relevant again, probably. I'm not saying it should be a driver in Mario Kart, but I AM saying there should be a kart based on it, and I'm also saying that this kart should canonically be the FLUDD, now upgraded. This feels like something that should have happened long ago!

This has been a long post, but it is far from all FLUDD has had to discuss! So next time, I will post about FLUDD once more, and its various appearances during the GameCube days and beyond! There is milk involved at some point. Get excited to learn what milk has to do with any of this!

Here are all those periods you were promised! I hope you like them.

....................................................................................................

[charliemwrites]

Part 4!! (No content warnings)

Fuck these men :)

You roll your neck, trying to loosen muscles tense from keeping your head locked in place. Hard work denying natural instinct to look at whoever is speaking, but the 141 doesn’t deserve any more of your attention than they’ve already stolen. Even if they didn’t know they had it at the time.

You’ll have to ask Nikto if he’ll massage out the knot forming there. He’s handy with anatomy like that.

“Listen, about what happened…” Gaz starts.

“Not relevant,” you snap, crouching behind a barrel.

“I’d say it’s pretty relevant,” he replies. “It’s not right, how we left things.”

You nearly snarl. ‘Not right’ is the understatement of the bloody century.

You twist on him. “You’re being unprofessional. Shut up and take this seriously, Garrick.”

You duck as a sniper shot pings dangerously close to your head. Spot Nikto across the way, hand-signaling to ask if you need back up. You reply with a ‘no’ and turn back to Gaz.

Thankfully, it seems he’s caught the message and keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the stupid drill. You resist a snappish comment when it’s over. Up until Gaz starts up again.

“I just think you deserve—”

“I don’t care what you think I deserve,” you interrupt. “I know what I deserve. And it’s a partner that can keep their feelings in their vest.”

Speaking of, Nikto appears at your side like a shadow in shifting light. There’s a disapproving tilt to his head, aimed at Gaz. You shake your head and tap your knuckles against his.

“Need a water break?” You ask, worried about how long he’s been under the helmet.

He shakes his head, then surprises you by bumping his forehead against yours — his version of a kiss. Even in private those are rare. You hum at him.

“Thank you, Nik.”

You have to run the next drill with Soap. Know from the start he’s going to be a stubborn prick about it. Can see it in the set of his jaw and the flicker in his eye.

“Didnae have to be a knob to Gaz,” he says.

You don’t respond, slipping away as the exercise begins. He calls after you and hurries to catch up, nearly blowing your cover.

“He feels bad enough for what happened, ye know.”

You level him a cool, blank stare. “You speak for him now?”

His eyes narrow. “If you won’t give him the chance to, aye.”

You knock his leg out from under him and fire at the “enemy” combatant, Nova. She sportingly goes down, but mutters that you should have let her take the shot. You should have.

“You compromise this drill again,” you tell a toppled Soap, “I’ll tell Laswell direct that you don’t belong on this mission.”

You spin on your heel and continue the exercise, ignoring any and all attempts by Soap to get you to speak again. At the very least, he picks up the slack, earns his callsign.

Nova finds you again when it’s over, arms around your neck and chest plastered to your back.

“Look’it you go, mamas,” she coos. “Shot me through the heart all over again.”

You laugh bending your legs to let her hop up for a piggy back ride. Yeah, you’re tired. But never too tired to carry your girl around. She giggles in your ear as you carry her off back to your captain for her next drill.

“With Price now,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Sure thing, boss,” you answer, doing a good impression of enthusiasm.

You know your place, settle into position just behind Price’s left side. No overtures about the past this time. Whatever iota of lingering respect you have for him grows as you complete the drill flawlessly. When it’s over, the two of you are at the furthest point from the designated “start”. And that’s when he decides to open his stupid mouth.

“It wasn’t personal, you know,” he says.

You smooth out your expression even though you don’t turn to him, already starting back.

“Okay.”

“It was the best call,” he explains, falling into step with you.

You tilt him a sideways look, don’t even bother with your full gaze. Spent far too much time looking up to him, by your estimate.

“Okay.”

“I look out for my soldiers.”

You turn forward again. “I wouldn’t know.”

Your captain happens to intercept, sweeping you up with one arm. You yelp, though can’t help grinning as you hook your fingers in one of his chest straps.

“Shouldn’t sneak up like that, sir,” you scold.

“That’s how I’ll know when I need to retire,” he replies with a crooked grin. “When I can’t sneak up on you anymore.”

You huff, snatching his sunglasses off his face to wear all the way back to the start point. Keegan meets you, looks directly at you as he salutes.

“Captain,” he says.

You laugh, give your CO his glasses back.

“Keeping fuckin’ around, Russ,” the captain rumbles, “I’ll take it out of your ass later.”

You gasp, scandalized, and laugh as the little skin visible through his smearing face paint turns pink.

“Off with you, girl,” your captain says. “We’re done after this, so keep it quick and clean.”

“Yessir,” you reply, jogging off to meet Ghost.

Fucking Ghost.

You don’t spare him a single look as you set up for the exercise. If nothing else, you have every expectation that he won’t say a single goddamn thing to you. No attempted apologies, no reprimands, no justifications. Just radio silence, like always.

What you don’t expect is for him to treat you like nothing’s changed. Like you’re still a fresh transfer that can’t watch their own six. You consider just putting your “gun” away and trailing after him until the exercise is over, but that would be just slightly too immature.

So you suck it up, grit your teeth, and do your job. Up until he gets in the fucking way. You’re about to get a sneaky shot on Keegan — a rare thing indeed — but Ghost moves. Goes out of his way to get the shot you already had and loses you both the element of surprise.

“Fucking oaf,” you snarl, scrambling behind a wall. “Is this your first fucking day or something?”

His eyes flash across the corridor. “What the fuck did you just say?”

You don’t reply, getting low and kicking your boot off, carefully sneaking it towards the corner like you’re trying to peek out. Keegan comes around, aiming too high and in the wrong direction, and Ghost shoots him.

Keegan “goes down” — goes out of his way to land on you, actually. You huff and shove at him.

“It’s not nap time,” you groan.

“Can’t hear you, I’m dead.”

You snort and shimmy out from under him. Not so different from most mornings, actually.

“If you two are done…” Ghost growls.

You suck your teeth and stalk off, giving Keegan one last pat to the back. The rest of the drill is barely civil, Ghost’s eyes more on you than on the training grounds.

When it’s finally, finally over, you sigh and pause, trying to work out that knot again.

“Haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Ghost sneers.

It’s meant to hurt. Meant to piss you off. Maybe remind you of the last things he said to you. You don’t look at him, bending to re-lace your boots. Thrilled to realize it’s like poking at an old scar. The skin is deadened, even though a mark remains.

“Fuck you’re so immature,” he growls.

You straighten and just start walking. Keegan finds you almost instantly.

“The hell was that about earlier?” He asks, frown audible.

“Ugh, he got in the way. I would have fuckin’ had you, otherwise.”

His eyes spark with outrage. “He fuckin’ what?” He snarls, turning like he’s about to say something to Ghost. Which… no. Just not worth it.

“Keegs,” you sigh, “c’mon, I told you this would happen. He’s not worth it.”

He scoffs, laces his fingers with yours. “‘Course he’s not. Don’t waste bullets on the dead, right?”

You snort and tug him along. The rest of your team will be waiting.

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Masterlist

[cherryredcheol]

little guy shelf

tldr: what the hell is a 'little guy'? an: i literally do not know where this came from.

when jihoon hears you huff for the fourth time in just as many minutes, he knows something must be wrong. after pausing the music coming out of his speakers and minimizing the tabs of production software on his monitor, he turns his chair to face you and is not surprised to hear you huff again. 

“bee,” he waits for you to look up at him before he asks, “what's the problem?” 

you huff again, but quickly pull yourself together and explain to him, very calmly, “there’s too many little guys on my shelf.”

jihoon blinks, sure he misheard you he asks again, “what is the problem?” 

you’re starting to get exacerbated, he can see it in the way you take a deep breath before explaining yourself, “my shelf, where i keep my little guys, there’s too many of them and now i can’t fit this one but this one is perfect! it has to go on my shelf.”

“i’m sorry, bee. i’m still confused. what is a ‘little guy’? and why does he have a designated shelf?” you two were still on opposite sides of the universe factory, and although the room was not big, he could not see the self in question from where he was, leaving him even more confused. 

“just come over here and look at my shelf, zi. you’ll get it if you can see it.” you could see the hesitation in his eyes at the thought of taking a break from production, but you were not above guilt-tripping. “come help me, zi. i need you,” you hoped your puppy-dog eyes still worked on him. 

turns out, they do. he got up and shuffled over to where you had squat down next to the second-to-bottom shelf on his wall. he’d never noticed before but the little shelf he’s offhandedly told you could be yours many, many months ago had been filled with little trinkets, or ‘guys’ he guessed. he wasn’t sure why you were so upset about this, though. 

“bee, i’m still confused. what exactly is the problem with your…guys?” he gestured vaguely to your plastic army.

“they’re all you! little tiny versions of you. and i’ve been collecting them but this one,” you lifted your hand to jihoon’s face. a tiny green man, bent over a barbell was staring back at him, his eyes were almost crossed trying to look at it. “this one will not fit! they all keep tipping over and then i stand them back up and then they tip over again! but he belongs here with these other little guys, zi. he belongs.” 

he gently pushed your hand out of his face, “yeah, bee. he totally belongs.” jihoon was still confused, but a little less so and terribly fond, “who else is there? who else represents me?” 

you lit up, clearly excited to explain your thought process to him. you turned, hand gently reaching into the molded infantry and remerging with a…grumpy penguin? 

jihoon was still confused but was ready to listen intently to your enthusiastic explanation, “tell me everything, bee.” he was doing this mostly to humor you, but he was intrigued.  

holding the little penguin out in front of you, you said, “this is badtz-maru. he is a penguin. he’s perpetually stuck in the first grade and wants to be the big boss of everything when he grows up.”

jihoon plucked the little plastic toy from your hand, turning it over to inspect it, “that's nice. but why is he me?” 

“well, he has black spiky hair, like you do,” you paused, looking at his long black hair, “sometimes.” you smiled sheepishly before continuing, “and penguins give rocks to their partners to show love. and you wrote ‘ruby’ and a ruby is technically a rock so…” you trailed off, embarrassed about your ramblings. 

jihoon had never thought you cuter. he reached the hand not holding his penguin self onto the shelf and pulled out a pokémon. “why flareon?” 

“oh! other than the sheer cuteness?” you were really on a tangent now, “‘flareon tends to isolate. and it’s in their nature to be lonely, so–”

jihoon interjected, “i am not lonely. nor do i isolate.” 

“well, that’s not true. you do isolate, don’t lie. and maybe not lonely per se, more of a loner. which again, you kind of are. plus, this little guy is spitting fire, which again, you do, so yeah. flareon, obviously.” 

“obviously.” jihoon was thoroughly amused. he had no idea any of this was in his studio. you’ve been hoarding toys here. toys that reminded you of him, “show me one more, bee.”

you pulled out, “a little baby, with a vegetable hat?” 

“no, zi. this is not any baby with a vegetable hat. this is the cabbage sonny angel. technically it’s the wrong kind of cabbage to make kimchi with but i’m choosing to let it slide because it’s little face looks just like yours!” 

you were very passionate about these so-called ‘little guys’ and although jihoon didn’t really get it, he loved you. and he loved that you thought about him so much that you would collect these little toys in his honor. 

“here,” he grabs the green weightlifting one off the discard pile on the floor and stands up. he rounds the corner to his desk and, “it can live here. since it’s ‘me’ and all.” he places it right next to his monitor, right in his line of vision, but not blocking anything important. 

you got up from the pile, leaving your little guys on the floor to see where this little guy had been placed. 

coming up behind jihoon you siaid, “zi! he looks perfect there!” you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

he blushed but still said, “you don’t have to keep the little guys just on that one shelf. use the whole wall, bee. my space is your space.”