#well maybe not all I can’t memorize all of the people that follow me unfortunately

[diejager]

I love your Only Human fics 😭😭 I can’t help but think what Monster AU 141/Kortac would do if their only human got hurt during a mission….

A continuation maybe please?

Only Human pt3

Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x reader

CW: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, gun violence, flash grenade go boom boom, explosion, tell me off I missed any. wc: 2.4k

Only Human masterlist

previous

They fucked up, they really flicked up. It was a simple mission, simple enough that you were sent with only three operators. Alejandro with his witness, slinked between enemy lines, shooting up and creating chaos once he shifted, his large body ripping through enemy lines like a hot knife through butter. Gaz with his aerial insights, flew over trees and spotted the soldiers you were shooting through and giving pointers to where they split up and where they collected. And finally, Horangi, stalking between the buildings, jumping from shadow to shadow with a slow sway of his tail, pouncing on his prey with the stealth of a tiger. 

Laswell had promised that it was a quick in-and-out op, slipping through the village at night and taking out the leading figure of this hastily-made gang that was blocking the transport route between two important, allied towns. The shared intel was that it was a gang of ragtag rebels, raiding police stations within the mass, overwhelming the officers with their vast numbers of followers. They stole police equipment, vests, guns, batons, and ammunition, using them to power through the lines of officers and breaking through blockades built by the townsfolk. 

While they weren’t trained in military warfare or had prior training with specialised weapons, they had the advantage of numbers, overwhelming any joint forces with their vast numbers of rebels. It was nearly astounding how many people were being paid and supported by Russia's wealthy Ultranationalists wanting to disrupt the trading routes and hurt the opposing team by prying them of a source of gas and material. 

The few joint forces had slimmed down their numbers, leaving Task Force 141 to clean it up and take over their base of operation within the region. You were told that their numbers rounded a skeleton crew of twenty men, twenty-five at most. That’s why Price sent you four for quick and efficient disposal of the enemy. 

That’s what Laswell gave you, the information burned into your mind from habitual memorization to ensure that your team would be prepared, and yet the data was wrong. Gaz had reported twice the promised number, not as well armed as you were warned but their number brought a changing tide to your mission. You wanted to turn back, to regroup and form another plan, but everyone was already in place and calling them back could be as much of a risk of being caught as storming in. 

Perhaps that’s why you were all so careful and conscious of the dangers, moving in two, Alejandro and Horangi in one part and you walking under Gaz’s protective shadow. The initial plan was to box them in, working through both exits to snuff out any runaways and once you entered the compound, Gaz would drop down and lead ahead. 

That was the plan, until, of course, all hell broke loose. It was chaotic, they were trigger-happy and within untrained hands, their guns were as leather as a trained one with how quickly they spent their magazine, cycling through one and spraying the wall you used for hiding. Soap’s wild clean-up would’ve been extremely helpful in a time like this; Ghost’s hungry haze would’ve swallowed them all up, opening up a way for you to pass; and König’s reckless and unpredictable shift that sent him into a wild frenzy while he tore through the base. 

Unfortunately, they were back home, the little base they called their own when you first joined, yet you still had experienced and protective soldiers by your side, all special forces. Gaz led you with a strong hand and clear head, stopping at every corner to look at all sides before moving forward and you watched his back, looking out for any enemy rounding back. 

Your situation would be - at best - organised chaos, made from what you were given at the moment, faced with a group over a dozen times and without backup waiting behind. There were hushed orders and observations sent back and forth between your groups, cautious warnings on your side and growls from the other. Nick had been informed in case of any immediate evacuation and Laswell, of the sudden change in the plan. You did your best with what you had, leaving bleeding corpses in your wake, slumped over the bloodied floor and against the stained walls, but you hadn’t expected the rapid change of shift in the enemy. They weren’t such men with guns and knives, they were trained - albeit sloppy - in ferality and ruthlessness, jumping at you and Gaz without a second thought.

Every lunge was met with a bullet, rifles firing at the advancing numbers holding a gun, a knife or both, leaving you with a graze or scrape, the skin under your clothes bristled and bleeding. They flooded like moths to a flame, one taking the place of a fallen, and two other taking his place. You were pushed back to back, Gaz’s wings fluttering in stress between you, fighting the need to cover you in a protective shield of muscle and feather. 

“We’re compromised,” Gaz hissed into the mic, sending the message to any open coms on your connected line. “Victor-01, moving your way.”

“Copy,” Alejandro huffed.

Gaz tried leading you away, feet moving fast and steady around the halls you had to memorise for this Op. He tried to lead you safely, but they swarmed you like flies, appearing from every corner in an unending flood of shouting, thumping and firing. Gaz was bound to get hit at this rate, with his big wings and broader shoulders. It worried you that he’d take a bullet for you - you knew he would, as would the others - and get dangerously hurt. Through one door was a group waiting for you, gun trained forwards and ready to fire, but they were slow, sloppy, and they lacked the training and reflexes of a specialist. 

You had time to push Gaz through a door and into a room, you hid on both sides, hiding from the straight line of fire. You unclipped a flash from your belt, waving it at him to catch his attention. It did and his lips broke into a grin, wild and electric at your idea. You had him count down the seconds, his fingers lowering until he balled his fist, shaking it as you pulled the pin out and threw it down the hall. Veering away from the door, eyes closed tightly and hands around your ears, the flash grenade blew up with a loud, ear-piercing screech. It sent them into a blind panic, weapons falling from their hands to rub the burning pain in their cornea, ears deaf to your quick-moving steps towards them, down they went, like those behind you. 

Adrenaline pumped erratically through your veins, bubbling and warming your body to an uncomfortable heat that had you sweating under your gear. You turned another corner and you were closer to Alejandro and Horangi’s location, meeting up with them was your current objective, to regroup and take over the base in one group. They were just down the path, behind the sprinting men in jeans and t-shirts holding guns like it was a big, heavy toy. You could see their tense shoulders relax when they caught sight of you, guard still up and cautious, but glad that you were safe. 

“Hunter,” Horangi hissed, his figure trembling as his nose twitched under his mask. He stared at your shoulder, the damp jacket stained with your blood. “You broken?”

“No, the adrenaline’s keeping me going,” you nodded back, trying to soothe his worry. Being the 141’s medic, you knew the benefits of adrenaline, it numbed the pain, the cold and the burns, but once you calmed down, you’d feel every little scratch.

You limped out of the building, body leaning against Horangi for support, his tail curled around your thigh and body tense in a possessive mood. He kept glancing your way, his golden eyes swirling with worry, pupils small and attentive to every wince you made. He moved according to your pain, urging you to put more weight on him when you walked on your bad leg, where a bullet shot straight through your thigh, bleeding through the quickly put gauze you covered it with and wrapped tightly in bandages. You promised them that you’d properly patch yourself up in the helicopter while they watched before you worked on them. 

With your body riding off the adrenaline that kept you going for the past fifteen minutes, you jerked and winced when you walked on your left leg, the white bandage around your thigh staining red on the side. You were sure Horangi and Alejandro could smell your blood, or they'd been able to smell it before you even saw them, the irony tang wafting around them like a haze of their failure. The failure to let you get hurt and unable to properly protect you, you could feel the tenseness in their shoulders, their lowered head at your smile and the jerky movement when they moved around, seemingly pulling themselves back from doing something. 

Nikolai waved at your group, ushering you in from his seat, strapped safely with his headset on and communication clear between everyone. With a short affirm from Alejandro, Nik took off, the bird curving to the left when he turned west, towards the UK. You waited until the flight was stable, flying through the air softly and steadily before you opened up your pack, searching for items to clean and reward your wound until you returned to the infirmary. You checked your tourniquet, tightening it when you saw that it was slightly loose, ripping open the wrapping around your leg, you reapplied the gauze, adding pressure to it to stop it from bleeding even more. 

You winced and hissed under their watchful eyes, between Alejandro and Horangi, their tails swaying and occasionally curling around your forearm. Gaz, however much he’d like to sit beside you, to fuss and worry openly about your wounds, sat across from you, strapped in with his wings spread wide across the seats. 

“Looks rough, Охотник,” Nik called to the back, light glinting off his glasses. 

“Nothing new, Nik, you know that,” you replied through the coms, a lop-sided smile curling the corners of your lips.

He cackled, a full-belly laugh that had all of you smiling in your own ways. Nikolai was rambunctious, loyal and a big bear of a man. He was human, the other human in the Task Force apart from you (Laswell might’ve been the one sending you across the earth and gathering information, but she - regrettably - wasn’t truly a member.). 

“Да! I do!”

When you landed, the rest of the TF was already waiting outside, arms crossed and shoulders tense. It seemed they got the news of your Op, showing their displeasure with deep frowns and deeper glares, none directed at you or the hybrids, it was some sort of self-hatred and anger at the person that gave Laswell the intel, their promise of it being factual and not sending them any updates on the case. Laswell, herself, was fairly mad, her stressed face pulled sombrely down. 

Soap and Rudy rushed to you, voices low and tones raspy, they hovered near your group, fussing about the blood that caked Alejandro’s forehead, a slight graze from a rifle’s butt and other bruises from slamming into obstacles; Gaz’s slight pinch in the back from being slammed into a wall by a bulldozing enemy when he ran out of ammo; Horangi’s ripped sleeves, gashes bleeding lightly from attempts at slashing and stabbing knives by inexperienced hands; but what worried them the most was you, limping and hanging from Horangi’s shoulders. 

Your eyes were hooded, equal parts exhausted and blood lost, placing all of your weight on the Haetae hybrid. While your upper half was unscathed - apart from the slight bruises forming on your skin - your leg, wrapped tightly in a tourniquet and bandages drowned in red. The amount of red would’ve been worrying if they hadn’t known you, but you’ve survived far more dangerous and life-threatening wounds, bouncing back with revenge. As truthful as it was, it didn’t stop them from worrying. You might’ve been more resilient than most - hybrids credited their resilience to their human parent - you didn’t have the healing ability of hybrids or the immortality of spectres. 

“ ‘m fine, Rudy,” you smiled, so bright and reassuring when you were the wounded one. “Nothing a few stitches and rest won’t heal.”

“Si, but-”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not worried, love.”

Like his callsign, he walked in on your little group silently, peering over Rudolfo’s shoulders, his warm, brown hues meeting yours. His voice was strained with concern, croakier than when you left this morning, waving at them. Rodolfo moved over when Ghost brought his hand forward, Horangi passed you to him with careful and tender hands so that you could be brought to the infirmary without having to walk. You hooked your arms around Ghost’s neck, arms crossed lazily over his back and chin propped up on his shoulder. He held you against his chest, one arm under your ass and another carefully tucked under your knees, watching your wounded leg without touching it. 

You looked at Price and Laswell from your perch, their hushed discussion with shrugging shoulders and crossed arms, but neither looked pleased with the outcome of your mission. You blinked owlishly when you couldn’t find König beside them, head turning from side to side to find the 6 '10 Austrian hybrid, but you still couldn’t find him. Just as you were going to ask Ghost where König was, a hand reached out to grip your forearm, thick fingers softly rubbing your strained muscle. You were met with a veiled face when you turned, brilliant, red eyes stared at your wounded thigh in distaste, his mind throwing him into the scene of the moment, turning and ripping the men that dared harm you to pieces, bloodied and unrecognisable parts of a human. 

“Hey, König,” you called out, pulling him back from his violent daydream where his eyes turned crimson, glazed with bloodlust and rage, promising doom. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Ja,” he replied moments later, snapping to your face with blank eyes, now his regular, ice-blue colour. “To the infirmary first and mess all later. You need to eat and rest well to heal quickly, Schnucki.”

“What about the-”

“You need to rest, lovie. Let them deal with the debrief,” Ghost’s voice was stern and commanding, ending whatever protests you had. 

As if to prove his point, he turned to face Price, his head nudging you to look at your captain, the imposing and dominating figure of Price’s horned head, thick, swaying tail and powerful wing. Price replied with a quick nod, curt in a way that shut down any voice, landing the hammer on the gravel with a resounding boom. You sighed, grumbling lowly about them worrying too much about a flesh wound, exaggerating your condition (in your mind) and threatening them with insubordination that had your commanding officers glare your way.

next

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[velvetkisscs]

Is It Casual Now ? - PSH SMAU

chapter 3: my side, your side (0.5k)

──౨ৎ｡⋆ 𝓬ontains: friendly teasing, mild cussing, more bickering between the exes

𝓦arning: strangling each other to death AS A JOKE

likes, reblogs, comments, and feedbacks are appreciated. rude comments will be ignored, reported, and deleted.

𖦹˙— ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘ ✩��࿔ you make your way to jay's house, where your friends have agreed to study together. jay was left without a choice, considering his apartment was spacious enough to accommodate everyone. he keeps a whiteboard, using it to memorize recipes, which doubles as a handy tool to jot down notes. it’s not that you don’t want to study– well, maybe a little– but finding a quiet place during this time of year is nearly impossible. libraries and cafes are too noisy, crowded with busy students, cramming everything they can. so here you are, 2 hours later than the agreed time, dragging your feet to jay’s apartment.

unfortunately for you, it seems that sunghoon also had the same thought. as soon you push the door open, you spot the very last person you wanted to see, quickly realizing he arrived mere seconds before you. however, to everyone else, it looks like the two of you came together. to make matters worse, you’re immediately greeted by ni-ki and beomgyu’s teasing

“look who finally decided to show up!” ni-ki called out, grinning from ear to ear

“late AND together, huh? how interesting,” beomgyu added, a smirk on his lips.

“STEAK STEAK STEAK!” ni-ki said excitedly.

jay and jake can only groan in frustration after losing the bet.

sunghoon, with an amused look, scoffs. “she probably followed me. guess someone can’t help herself.” he shrugs.

you shot him a glare. “as if i’d follow you anywhere. your ego is as big as your head.”

everyone but you and sunghoon exchanged amused looks, quite used to the constant bickering. you scanned the room for a place to sit and saw the only available spot was next to him, sunghoon.

“great…” you muttered under your breath, making your way over.

sunghoon shifted his books and laptop, creating a clear division between your space and his. “you better stay on your side,” he warned.

“YOU better stay in YOURS” you shot back.

as you both settled down, the atmosphere was thick with tension. ni-ki and beomgyu exchanged glances and stifled a giggle.

the group tried to focus on their studies, but it wasn’t long before sunghoon accidentally knocked your notes over, reaching for his own.

“seriously? what happened to not getting in my space?” you snapped.

“maybe if you didn’t take up so much of mine, this would’ve been avoided,” sunghoon retorted.

“maybe if you weren’t such a klutz, it wouldn’t matter,” you countered.

jay looked up from his laptop, shaking his head. “you two are something else.”

a few hours had passed and everyone wanted a break; both from studying and the constant bickering between you and sunghoon. all have agreed that it’d be nice to head to the nearest store for some food and get some fresh air during the walk.

at the convenience store 𖦹˙— ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘ ✩࿐࿔

the group scattered, grabbing their own carts and their favorite snacks. surprisingly, the only quiet time you and sunghoon had was in the ramen aisle. 2 minutes had passed and you’ve finally decided to get the carbonara buldak, but to your demise, sunghoon reached for the same pack.

“of course you’d pick the same one,” sunghoon said, raising an eyebrow.

“what the fuck are you looking at me like that for? not my fault you have good taste for once” you shot back.

sunghoon smirked. “guess i do. try not to fuck up your ramen, okay?”

“try not to burn jay’s apartment, okay?” you retorted, grabbing the ramen and turning away.

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a/n: heyyy! what'd you guys think about this chapter? yn and sunghoon sitting next to each other was definitely the move!! i love forced proximities between two people that claim to hate each other! but yes i will be updating every weekend! maybe once or twice? i'm not sure yet. also i'm so sorry i keep updating with filler chapters- i swear it will get better ;-; thank you for all the support i've been getting! it means a lot considering this IS my first ff ;-;

. 𖦹˙— ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘ ✩࿐࿔

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[mixes-archive]

I just saw your recent post, and you said you wish people would request other characters, especially fem characters, so it’s my time to shine🤩. I would like to request a NSFW fic with "Kleo" from COD; she’s an operator. I don’t have any specific ideas for the plot, so you can go crazy! I really wish people would write for her more.

Kleo x fem! Reader NSFW

Tags: p with a little bit of plot, mild angst with lots of fluff, making out, miss girl is unable to keep her hands to herself, fingering and oral (both reader receiving) and breastplay

Dear Gods I need this woman I need her I NEED HER TO CALL ME HER LITTLE PRINCESS AND RUIN ME WOOF WOOF GRRRR BARK WO-

I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Your home felt emptier without her, no matter how many pictures of you together decorated the walls or how much exorbitant furniture filled every room. Dancing makes you feel just a little less alone, or maybe that’s just the shadowy figure watching your performance?

It was always quite lonely without Kleo around. Of course, she’d warned you about this multiple times before getting into a serious relationship with you, but you hadn’t thought much about it back then.

It didn’t make you think less of her, not at all! But you just wish she’d be here a bit more. Of course, when she did get time off, it would almost always be a few days at least, which you always made sure to keep free.

But it had been two months. No visits, no calls, no texts. Just a monthly check, making sure you didn’t have to bear the burden of bills alone.

You were scared to check your mail now. Every time a call came in, you were scared this would be the one. Some of your older neighbors had talked about it once they found out about Kleos job, warning you of the heartbreak that came with it.

,We’re sorry miss, but unfortunately Kleo…‘

No. You couldn’t bear to think about it. By now you should know not to underestimate your girlfriend like that. Still, you needed something to drown those thoughts out.

Where most would’ve reached for alcohol or drugs, you reached for an old, beat up and sticker covered iPod. Kleo had gifted it to you on your first birthday together, you still have it after all these years.

Memories of her teaching you how to put music on that damn thing made you giggle as you connected it to the speakers in the living room. They were massive and yet another gift of hers. This one she gave you because ,she felt like it‘.

Everything just reminded you of her. Even the music.

You played a song you danced to together at one of her many family gatherings. It was slow, and now that you’re actually listening to the lyrics, also a bit sad. How ironic.

Yet you found yourself getting lost in it. Closings your eyes and rhythmically spinning to the music, magically avoiding every piece of furniture that could stand in your way. You had the steps memorized, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4, back and forth and back and forth.

You could almost see her dark, curly hair bouncing with every step or how her bright green eyes attentively followed your every move.

Around halfway through the song, tears started to form in your eyes.

Around the end, when the orchestra was dying down and the vocals repeated, until they slowly melted away along the rest of the melody, a pair of arms wrapped around you. Ones your knew all too well.

„Amazing performance, κούκλα“

„I thought you were dead.“

Kleo wrapped her arms around you, her abnormally tall stature leading to your head falling into her neck. She kissed your temple.

„But I’m not. Let’s dance a bit, yeah?“ It was an order more than a question, her hands weaving into yours while spinning you around to face her.

Had she not looked so exhausted, you would’ve likely forced her to talk about what happened. But those bags under her eyes and the fresh scars on her Face told you all you needed to know: ‚I physically can’t talk about it right now.‘

Along with the next song, you both swayed and span, bumping into significantly more furniture than you did on your solo performance. It made you both giggle every time.

Not many words were exchanged during the whole ordeal, not even when her hands dipped to your hips and lower back. Kleo tended to get a bit… touchy whenever she returned from missions.

It was nice. To have her warmth back after all this time had finally stopped your racing brain and intrusive thoughts. You were the first to stop dancing, choosing to embrace her instead. The laugh she let out at that made her chest rumble, and yours with it.

It didn’t catch you off guard when her hands moved to your ass, slowly massaging the soft flesh between her calloused fingers.

„God I missed this.“ She let out a dramatic sigh and let herself fall onto the couch, taking you down with her.

„So you do only love me for my ass! How superficial of you! And here I thought you liked me for my charming personality…“

„Shut up and kiss me you goofball.“

You did just that and gods… did it feel right. That missing piece was finally back. Your house finally felt like home again.

Her lips were just as soft as you’d remembered. She must’ve taken your complaints to heart last time she came back with cracked lips and actually continued to use the chapstick you always had to replaced for her.

She licked at yours lips. „Cherry?“, she asked. „A bit cliché, don’t you think?“

„I know it’s your favorite so shut up.“

To hear her laugh again, so unbothered and loud as always made your stomach fuzzy, or maybe that could’ve also been her hands on your thighs.

Kleos strength always shocked you, especially when she flipped you over without any type of warning. Her arms trapped your head beneath hers.

„Hey there gorgeous!“

„Do that again and I just might die of a heart attack.“

„Oww nwooo, want mwe two kwiss it betta?“ She mocked you, but you didn’t have the strength in you to send a snide remark back. The look she was giving you told you that one, you should shut up, and two, that you either back out now or get fucked so hard you can’t walk even after she returns from her next mission.

You weren’t a pussy, so you smashed your lips into hers. Immediately, she returned the kiss with just as much force. Kleo pried your lips apart with her tounge and you gladly let her in.

Just as you really started to get into it, she pulled away. A string of saliva connected you together for a second more, until it broke.

Her hands reached down to your shirt, carefully unbuttoning it.

„No bra? What a nice surprise.“

„Wasn’t really much of a point in wearing one if there isn’t anyone around to protect them from.“

„How rude. I always treat you boobs with utmost respect.“

Your mention of how she tended to do the exact opposite was cut short by a breathy sigh. Her lips connected to your nipple and suddenly you realized that sexual gratification of any kind other than this would take another eternity to achieve.

Once she sucked on your nipples, it would be impossible to get her off. You were almost convinced she thought that milk would come out of them if she tried hard enough.

Despite your complaints, she was damn good at playing with your breasts. Harshly biting, then softly licking over your tender flesh. Neither of you could ever get enough of it.

Soft moans left your mouth as her tounge rediscovered your chest. You had been deprived of this sensation for so long, it made it feel all the more intense. Your hands could never even hope to compare to the gentle way she licked around your areola, only to then aggressively attacked your nipple with sucks and bites. The other was always treated just as well with her hand, massaged and fondled with in ways that had you seeing stars.

It hadn’t been that long, yet you were already melted into the cushions below you, unable to let out anything other than „I love you“s and garbled versions of her name. Kleo could come from the look on your face alone, begging her for more as she slowly let go of your breasts.

„Let’s move to the bed, yeah? Makes for easier cleanup.“

The wet blanket of a human that was you got picked up by her strong arms. She carried you upstairs and gently dropped you onto the bed without breaking as much as a drop of sweat.

Almost teasingly slow, Kleo removed all your clothes down to your panties, only pausing briefly when she realized they were one of her pairs. A smirk made it’s way to her face as she, even slower than before, removed the last bit of cloth on you.

„I’d say you missed me.“

„You really think I’d miss you?“

„Would be a bit weird of you to soil my underwear if you didn’t atleast somewhat like me.“

Even if you had a response to that, your need for some kind of physical attention was absolutely killing you. You grabbed one of her hands and put them on your body, signaling to her that she should shut up and get on with it. But alas, she was still a tease to the core.

„Be a good girl and tell me how much you missed me.“ Lord knows you would’ve smacked that grin off her if you could, but you had long melted into her unmoving hand. Left with no choice, you followed her orders.

„I thought of you every day.“ Kleo smirked and started massaging your hips.

„Sometimes, I would wear some of your clothes.“ Her hands moved down lower.

„I had to hug your pillow to sleep well.“ Ever so gently, she was prying apart your thighs.

„I tried, but no matter how big or expensive the toy, I couldn’t get off without you.“ That seemed to do it for her.

Large, calloused hands massaged your thighs, as she moved to be in between them. Her eyes were all over your body, as if studying a map.

„You poor thing“, she cooed. „Didn’t have an orgasm for a whole two months?“ Although her tone was teasing, she truly did feel bad. A whole two months would be absolute torture for her.

„I came to the thought of you squirming under me almost every night. God you made my fingers cramp up so much.“ Her voice was dropping lower and her giggles seemed almost sensual as she moved her head towards your pussy.

„My poor princess, I’ll make it up to you, alright? Just be good and let me hear your pretty little noises.“

Her mouth was on you before you could think and gods did it feel good. Her tongue gently licked at your clit, speed growing with fervor at every moan that slipped past your lips. The unholy slurping noises Kleo made would’ve made you giggle under different circumstances, but your brain had ceased all thoughts.

Occasionally, she would give your clit a break to stuff her tongue into your hole, licking your juices up as if her life depended on it. Every time she pulled out to catch her breath, praises of how good and how loud you were being left her, only to then immediately return to your body to keep those noises going.

Being depraved of touch for so long, you were already close to the edge, but then she added her fingers to fully concentrate her efforts onto sucking your clit.

Her fingers were rough, but your wetness more than made up for it. Effortlessly, she moved them in and out, a loud squelching sound coming with every thrust of her thick fingers into you.

Teeth were on your clit, biting down the tiniest bit, her tongue then immediately following after, gently caressing the small bundle until the only words you could form were „Kleo“ and „more“.

She thrived in your pleasure, looking almost as fucked out as you must’ve. Her eyes were dark and her face sweaty. Still, her relentless pace continued, finally giving you what you had craved for so long.

Your thighs clenched around her head as you felt your orgasm coming, and it made her pace even more brutal than before, fingering you at what should be impossible speeds while sucking on your clit much harder than before.

As it all got too much, you finally let go. Cumming on her eager tongue, she licked every last bit of your essence she could get out of you until you were wiggling away from her.

Kleo held eye contact with you as she licked her fingers clean, a lewd moan leaving both of you.

„Princess, why don’t you come back here? We got another 60 days to make up for.“

[coreytravelogue]

10 (and 5) Year Anniversary of Going to Europe

I am pretty late on doing this but my excuse is a rather strong one, I have been more invested in the trip I am on that is coming to a end now than putting in time talking about this. However given that I am travelled out I feel more willing to sit down and reflect on this time. It is funny, 10 years ago 2.5 weeks was just maybe the first piece of my trip and I don’t recall burn out setting in quite yet but it has sort of now. I do not think I could do 76 days of travel without breaks going back home but that is what made that time special, it was a once in a life time adventure and test to see if I could do it.

The story as to why has been told to death I think and for those who don’t know just start at the star to my blog and go forward. Long story short I was reaching a point in my life when I needed a change and decided to drop everything and backpack. I was hoping the trip would change me, and it did but it took awhile to happen. I had to start from the beginning again and work my way back up.

Europe taught me you can’t control the uncontrollable plus no matter how much you plan something life will always have a way of throwing a monkey wrench in. Sometimes you have to learn to let go to move forward. In the 10 years time much has changed in my life. I got into a relationship and got out of it, a pandemic began and ended, I returned to Europe once again and saw more countries, I go to see more of my own country as a adult than I did previously. Started a career and at least up until the last year or so felt there was a future in it but in its current iteration I am not so sure. And now I am coming close to finishing my Japan trip. Japan is a country I wanted to see before I even cared about travel.

With that said I am glad I traveled Europe twice and experienced all of that before going to Japan because if I didn’t I would have struggled in Japan more than I have at times.

I met a few good people from Europe, some I am still in contact with and some unfortunately I am not anymore. Katharina from a Koln I talk to now and then and both her and her boyfriend visited me last year. Maria from Dusseldorf I talk to now and then as well.

All the time I am tempted to do this trip over again, drop everything and do it again. However it’s after trips like the one I am on now that remind me I am not 29 anymore and it may not be as fiscally advisable or advisable in general anymore.

This time 10 years ago I was in Dusseldorf meeting Maria for the first time, painfully lonely and looking for people to meet and converse with. That made traveling worth it and it has made times where I haven’t interacted with people during my travels less worth it.

The strongest memories from those days are as follows:

- Watching Euro Grip with Maria and her turning to me and asking me is that what you think of us?

- Hanging with Katharina and someone from South Korea for a day where we made Lego versions of ourselves.

- The Berlin Film Museum and walking 90 min back to my campsite when I realized the bus stops going to the campsite after 10 pm. Bering thankful I sort of memorized the route just in case this happened.

- Meeting so many Americans at Oktoberfest.

- Eating with my host in Istanbul surrounded by a restaurant full of hungry cats.

- Pouring my own Dublin Guinness.

- All of the days and nights I spent in Galway.

- The sleeping in in Belfast.

- Getting stranded without a place to stay in Scotland only to be saved by my host in Glasgow.

- Driving the tardis in Wales.

- Seeing Mount Salem in Paris, getting angry at my hostel mates for having the heat up way too much and getting so made I went to Euro Disneyland the next day.

- Seeing Motörhead in London before going back home to Canada.

I mean this is also the 5 year anniversary of my second Euro trip. I learned that I needed to spend more time in places and that speed running through places doesn’t do you any good an only adds to your stress. I am thankful I did that trip because that was the last international trip I would do till this Japan trip.

My memories from that was meeting up with Katharina and Maria again. Wishing I spent more time with them than in other places like Leipzig. The beer festival in Nuremberg and burning out in Leipzig because of speed running.

I guess that is my 10 year anniversary talk about my first Europe trip and 5 year anniversary of my 2nd. Funny how it lines up with Japan now to but as I have said before much of my travel has always seemed to be in August or around it. Just the way it is.

You will hear from me tomorrow as I close out my trip talking about my week in Tokyo. Shazbot nanu nanu.

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Brawler (2019)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

I have an idea. I’m going to tell you about 2019's The Brawler and you can tell me who you think it’s for. There is an audience for this movie but it's incredibly narrow, and not the one the filmmakers hoped for.

Based on the true story, Chuck Wepner (Zach McGowan) is a small-time boxer who gets the opportunity of a lifetime when Muhammad Ali (Jerrod Page) challenges him for the heavyweight championship title. His story makes him a celebrity among the locals and catches the eye of Sylvester Stallone (Anthony Mangano), who thinks it would make a great film. Unfortunately, his newfound stardom plunges Chuck into a downward spiral of substance abuse and poor decisions.

If you like the Rocky franchise and hope to get “a little more” by watching the story that inspired it, this film will disappoint you. At first, "The Brawler" follows the 1976 Oscar-winner nearly beat-for-beat with a few key differences. Firstly, Chuck is already married to Phyllis (Taryn Manning). Secondly, his rough-around-the-edges manager (Joe Pantoliano) isn’t all that lovable and has no memorable lines. Third and most importantly, our protagonist is 0% likeable. You have to admire the film for showing a “warts and all” portrait of the real-life boxer but if you’re going to show the man’s flaws and your objective isn’t to assassinate his character… try to show some good facets of his personality. Sloppy, dumb, unfaithful, apparently eager to abandon his three children (I think there were three, they get so little screen time I can’t be sure) and always insistent that none of what happens to him is his fault, you don’t cheer for Chuck. Ever.

The film is fundamentally flawed in that it keeps reminding you, over and over, of two movies you’d rather be watching: Rocky and Rocky II. In fact, Chuck receives a role in Rocky II from what is undoubtedly the worst Stallone lookalike you’ve ever seen. Director Ken Kushner does his best - for a while - by shooting Anthony Mangano (at least 30 pounds too heavy and way too old for the part) from a distance, in a hoodie, with sunglasses or with all three but eventually, the “real” Rocky and the movie Rocky come face-to-face and you’ll be embarrassed for everyone involved. Their Mohammad Ali wasn’t very good. James Diian Bonavia as André the Giant was worse but by comparison, they're mirror images.

So is the film for boxing fans who have never seen Rocky? Maybe, as long as they can tolerate poorly choreographed and poorly shot fight scenes. The camera twists and twirls so much it could make anyone look like a prized fighter. Even with these tricks, it’s obvious the punches are not connecting with any force.

For drama fans, then? ‘Fraid not. At 95 minutes, there’s too much material covered for anything to have any emotional resonance. There is no through line, no lesson for Chuck to learn and no character arcs. It’s simply a checklist of events until the film ends. The conclusion is supposed to leave you feeling good but there’s no way you will because it’s unearned. That’s how bad this film is; even if you separate yourself emotionally from the movies it reminds you of, you dislike Chuck so much you don’t want him to win in the end.

No one wants to see a movie about a screw-up that’s not self-aware. They certainly don’t want to see one that's badly shot & edited, with lousy performances and a sloppy story. So who is The Brawler for? People who like comparing good and bad movies. Here’s what you do. Week 1, you watch Rocky and the Here Comes the Boom. Now you see how a boxing underdog story can be done well, and not-so-well. Week 2, Rocky II and then The Brawler. Now you've seen how to follow up one of the greatest sports movies of all time with a solid sequel and how you REALLY shouldn’t tell a boxing story. (June 19, 2020)

[daily-keyboardsmasher]

Day 1000

It has happened. Today we hit 1000 posts. And as promised, I’ll incorporate your guys’s very own keyboard smashes into it! It’s cause you guys are an essential part of this blog. This means a lot, so thank you all for sticking around with me :) Now let’s go, Day 1000 Ultra Super daily-keyboardsmasher Level keyboard smash!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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[deidearly]

Kakashi Relationship Headcanons

Guess who’s back with another relationship headcanon today? And as usual, I had a good time writing this one even got slightly carried away, hehe. Enjoy! XX. 

Well— Hatake Kakashi, huh? Dating him would be such a roller coaster ride, tbh. It’s like, one moment he’s so clingy, fragile, so afraid of losing you— but one moment he’s like, “Just do what you need to do. I don’t really care.” This is due to the fact that he’s got a lot of things in his mind and occasionally struggled to sort out his priorities. 

Anyway, of course you’ve complained about his ‘reading-smut-in-public’ issue, especially when you’re together. You two would come up with an agreement somehow. But to piss you off, he’d pretend like you’re the one who’s obsessed with reading smuts.

You’re browsing for some important books and he playfully yelled, “Y/N! Come here, it’s your favorite book— Icha Icha Tactics! My, I know you’ve had four books, but another one won’t hurt, right? Since you love it that much!” making everyone in the bookstore giggled.

He received “Y/N Signature Punch” that day.

To your surprise, he’s not very secretive about his relationship with you. In fact, you’ve caught him frequently use you as an excuse for him to escape some unwanted occasions.

Let’s say Gai was asking Kakashi to fight him like usual— and he wasn’t having it that day. “Gai, with all respect— I would gladly accept your challenge. But can’t you feel the springtime of romance youth is blooming? I must see Y/N immediately.”

Gai’s tearing up.

Don’t worry, he actually went to your place.

“Yo. Can we hang out? I just told Gai that I would come to your place. Please say ‘yes’ to make me less of a jerk, will you?”

Would totally show up in front of your place at an ungodly hour.

At first it surprised you but now you’re used to it.

You just finished your mission, it went pretty well but you felt there were some wasted chances due to your captain’s miscalculation. It’s nearly 2 AM but you caught yourself wide awake, reviewing back your battle– only to got distracted by a knock on your bedroom’s window. Instead of turning your head in surprise, you already knew who it was. To have a little fun for yourself, you ignored the sound, which was later followed by a second knock. Walking over to the window, you saw a silver-haired man with a mask. Although half of his face was covered, it’s obvious that a smile was apparent. “Yo.” he greeted, but you replied with a sigh. “You could actually knock on the door and I’d let you in through the door. It’s something normal people would do, Kakashi.” you grumbled, opening the window for him to get in. “Ah, spare me the lecture!”

So, reverse psychology works best for Kakashi. Like the Icha Icha Tactics– the more you ignore his behavior, he would actually try not to read his book in public like you told him to. But the more you complain, he’d read it in places where he shouldn’t be reading it at all. This method works in almost every cases.

You’ve been dating for weeks, but you haven’t seen his face.

Yes, when kissing, too.

You’ve had enough of kissing fabric. 

You had planned to make a dinner together at his place. He was preparing the dishes and you’re about to finish your cooking, when he suddenly asked, “Hey, Y/N. Have you ever wondered what would I look like under this mask?” You were dying to know actually. So, now you’re stuck with two options: (a) be honest about it, (b) pull out another reverse psychological answer— and you chose the latter. “Huh? Not really,” you shrugged, “I don’t really care so it’s not like I’m eager to see it.” and of course, this was a lie. Kakashi went silent for a while. “Anyway, dinner’s re—“ you swore you could’ve dropped the whole pan when you saw an unfamiliar presence. “Kakashi?” you asked hesitantly. The man looked up with a questioning look, “Why are you blushing?” he replied casually.

“ANYONE WITH A DECENT EYESIGHT WOULD BLUSH TOO, YOU STUPID.”

He’s honestly so heavenly to look at.

Sometimes it’s just too overwhelming to see his whole face, you thought.

It’s safe to say that it’s a privilege to be able to see his face. But due to his immense charm, you’d prefer to have him with a mask on.

“Y/N, I feel naked without my mask—“ , “And I honestly feel like I’m being forced to see an illicit nudity, too. Put your mask on, it’s fine honestly.”

He’s been very good at his job for almost his whole life, a fine shinobi. So, he’s rarely exposed to mundane things, moreover a relationship. Thus, making him quite restrained in expressing himself. Plus, he was labelled with some negative titles, saying how cold-blooded he was and he just decided to live with it. This, obviously, requires a lot of patience.

But he’s determined to change, the first step he took was letting you in— into his life.

It started rocky, though.

He’d say something like how he didn’t care much about you and sadly, he really didn’t.

But as the time went by he realized how your presence has been the one that helped him through it. How you’ve always been there to comfort him, by listening to him, giving him a lot of supports, or simply by reminding him that he’s not completely alone.

And when that moment came, he’s sworn to protect you with all his might.

He had a lot of nightmares, he still does, unfortunately. But when you’re around, your presence eases him up a little.

When you’re not around, however, he’d rather spend all night unhealthily tiring himself until he fall asleep.

His personal favorite would be curling up next to you with his hand around your waist while hiding his face near the crook of your neck as he’s giving you some soft neck kisses.

Again, NECK KISSES.

He had a hard time trying to open up himself fully to you and this applies to romantic gestures, I believe. He surely would take his time to explore you, what you like, and what he likes.

Would shower you with kisses, all over your face without missing a spot. He greatly admires every inches of yourself. 

Body worship, oof.

Lowkey (semi highkey) protective.

Lowkey (semi highkey) a show-off.

Would straight up jump to save you if it’s necessary.

And since he’s a show-off, he lowkey loves PDA— but the soft ones, of course. You two would always get spotted together. He would casually sling his arm around your shoulder or lazily has his hand wrapped around your waist.

Favorite time to spend with you is training together. No matter how many times you’ve told him to “fight with an intent to win” he simply refuses— saying how, he’s “far too powerful” for you.

But deep down he just doesn’t want to hurt you…

Chatting in the middle of a training

“Tsunade-sama hasn’t assigned me any missions lately *throws kunai*” , “Maybe if you threw your kunai accurately, she will. *dodge kunai*” , “Kakashi, shut your pretty mouth up. *throws MORE kunai aggressively*”

When you turned him down while he was showing off his new tricks, though, it weirdly turned him on.

He loves someone powerful, with a right amount of cocky.

Doesn’t talk big. He’s a man of action— his action speaks louder than words!

Doesn’t spoil you that much, though. Because it’s actually him who needs to be spoiled.

Really loves it when you trace your fingers all over his skin— it’s intimately soft, he claimed.

LOVES YOUR SCENT. Has it memorized probably.

He’d prefer someone independent. Someone who could actually take care of themselves instead of relying on him completely. 

Anyone too childish would remind him of Team 7, tbh.

Speaking of Team 7, they would probably be the one to get introduced to you.

Naruto was so shocked to find out that his sensei was capable to develop a romantic feeling towards someone. But he had his doubt— do you really know Kakashi? He started to bombard you with questions to test your knowledge.

“So, do you know what’s Kakashi Sensei’s favorite—“ , “I’ve seen his face. Multiple times.” , “YOU WHAT?”

Complained and sulked about it, “Kakashi Sensei, we’ve trained together for years. How could you?!”

Sakura was confused.

“How? I know he’s probably very handsome under that mask but come on, Y/N, reading smut in public? That’s an absolute no.”

On the contrary, Sasuke was thrilled, internally.

“Yeah. Finally. Old man has someone to annoy besides us. About time.”

He has a pretty bad behavior, too. Unlike Gaara, who’d put an emotionless facade when he’s only in the Kazekage mode, Kakashi would treat you just how he feels like doing it that day. 

Let’s be real, he has so many bottled up feelings inside his heart so it’s not a surprise that someday, somehow, a random painful emotion just hit him— hard, and he shut himself out.

The hospital is the place you immediately visit right after Kakashi’s arrival after a mission because you know he’d be there— reading his book with a few bruises here and there. But this time was a bit different. When he’s hospitalized, he would whine about you not being able to stay more than an hour— but right now you’re puzzled, since he’s been completely silent and avoiding you, answering your questions with a mere shrugs.

Tsunade told you that the mission went pretty well, thanks to Kakashi for eliminating all the enemies on the field, singlehandedly. You automatically knew that it must brought up his past traumas. “Kakashi, it’s not your fault.” you decided to speak, earning a glance from Kakashi, but that’s it. “It’s a mission and you protected all of your comrades!”

“I killed them, Y/N. I didn’t have to, but I did.” he said, with his eyes still glued elsewhere. “Every time I look at my hands, I feel dirty. It reminded me of that—“, “Kakashi, look at me.”

You moved closer to his bed, reaching out your hand and traced your fingers softly on his face. His cheeks were cold, and you could clearly see how he was slightly trembling with teary eyes. “Kakashi, if you didn’t do it— it could’ve been your own comrades. Now they’re safe and sound, thanks to you.”, you paused as he slowly began to move his sight to you. “And if I could meet you way sooner, I would remind you every day that it’s never your fault— it’s never been. You’re a good person, Kakashi. I, and all of us, are forever thankful for the things you’ve done.” you whispered, now wiping a few tears that fell down to his cheeks. A weak smile started to bloom, “I’m forever thankful for you as well, Y/N.”

[riverisnotsafe]

Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

[voiceless-terror]

I mean, I don’t believe in the predictive power of dreams, obviously, but still, it’s a deeply unsettling thing to find. I had Tim look into it, as I don’t entirely trust the others not to have written it as a practical joke and slipped it into the archives. - Episode 11, Dreamer

Jon stares down at the paper in his hands.

He’s had many an unkind thought towards Gertrude, his predecessor, the woman responsible for this mess and the current bane of his existence. She’s been the topic of most of his grumbling as he sorts through piles of nonsense and decaying cardboard boxes. He’s got no love lost for her, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy she’s dead. Or, specifically, to have a statement apparently predicting it through the medium of some prophetic dream. Ridiculous. He wants to feel detached, unaffected, but he can’t help the sickly sense of dread that creeps up his spine and lingers in his throat. 

It was your face and the expression upon it was far more fearful than any I had seen in eight years of wandering this twilight city.

Jon doesn’t know Antonio Blake and has no reason to believe him. But he’s known something’s wrong for a long time now.

He’s never admitted it aloud, never within his assistant’s hearing range, but he can feel it, as foolish as that sounds. This miasma of wrong, of being watched, of becoming...something else, that happens every time he records a statement. Despite the academic detachment he aspires to, he does attempt to empathize with each statement-giver and get into their mindset. But what he’s doing here...it’s different. He can visualize it so perfectly, the terror in their words sticking in his throat and setting his own heart pounding, as if he were the one experiencing it and not just regurgitating it to an ancient recorder. He’s always had an ‘overactive imagination,’ as his grandmother would say, but this is relentless in its manifestation. The fear is real, not imagined. Each statement draws him further and further away from the safety he used to cling to, where the only real cases were few and far between and the most sinister things lurking out there in the world were books and the monsters within them.

And as much as he wants to linger on the false accounts and take comfort in tearing them apart, his hands automatically seek the real ones, the right ones. It’s frightening, the ease with which he finds them nowadays. Perhaps he’s a better archivist than he thinks. 

She died and you’ll be next, something whispers to him. He’s being dramatic, as he’s wont to do, but it feels true. Every statement that doesn’t record correctly, every follow-up he has to qualify with an ‘I would dismiss this, but-’ is starting to add up. His nights have become restless. He often lies awake regretting that he ever took this job, that he left the relative safety of research for a position he’s not sure how to fill, his only reassurance Elias’s occasional emails that he’s ‘moving in the right direction,’ whatever that means.

Jon assumed he’d be more removed from the dangerous aspects of the job that research entailed- following up, going to locations, field work. And it’s true, he has assistants to do that for him now. Dependable, for the most part. And while he should feel safe in his tiny office with nothing but dust and paper and cobwebs (good lord, the cobwebs) he feels more unsettled and exposed than ever. He once joked he’d die of old age before getting the archives in order. But now a stroke sounds much more pleasant than whatever happened to Gertrude. If it’s true.

Perhaps it’s a joke, he thinks. Planted by one of the others, designed specifically to unsettle him. Well, it worked. 

It wouldn’t be surprising. He’s...not had the best start. The promotion was a surprise, but not wholly unexpected; he knew he’d been on Elias’s radar, though he wasn’t expecting it quite so soon. He’s young and unfortunately, it shows. The way he stutters through department meetings, talking about digitization while the others, all of whom have at least a decade on him, shoot pitying looks. He stays later and later, the desire to show some sort of progress even as he discovers more mess by the day. The permanent scowl that now graces his features becomes his armor as he walks the halls and feels himself becoming the uptight, unlikable curmudgeon everyone believes him to be. The one time I measure up to expectations, he can’t help thinking.

A joke. There’s a comfort in that. At least it’s familiar.

But it didn’t record to the laptop, his traitorous mind supplies. It's a bit sad he would prefer it to be a mundane attempt at bullying rather than a real expression of the supernatural, but he supposes it’s par for the course. There were many nights as a child he wished for the same thing, for that boy to go back to taking his lunch money and the occasional beating or two instead of…still, he dismisses it from his mind. You don’t know there’s a correlation. Follow up. Disprove it. 

He’s interrupted from his musings by a knock on the door and the vague outline of Martin through the frosted glass. “Come in,” he calls, attempting to inject some irritation in his voice to cover up the shakiness. “Did you need something?”

“Ah, I finished my write up for the Herbert case, was wondering if you had anything else for me?”

His hand hovers over the statement on his desk. He opens his mouth but then closes it, thinking better.

“Can you send Tim in, actually?”

______

“Sorry boss, I couldn’t find anything on this Antonio Blake fellow- well, at least with the details he provided, which were next to none. Proper spooky, though.”

Of his assistants, he trusts Tim the most with this sort of thing. 

On a surface level, it wouldn’t make sense to some. Tim can be loud and gregarious: the typical, charming extrovert. But he’s not unkind and he’s a hell of a researcher, especially when something grabs his interest. He digs into statements and doesn’t let go- not unlike Sasha, though he’s a bit better at empathizing and handling things...sensitively. Easily attuned to Jon’s moods, Tim’s always been willing to lend an ear whenever he gets too in his head about cases, helping him talk things through or on several memorable occasions, go down the rabbit hole with him. He’d taken the statement from his hands with an easy smile, though his face grew serious with the nervous look Jon shot him.

And if Tim couldn’t find anything, well. Maybe it was a prank after all.

He sort of wanted it to be true, frightening as the implications were. Because then it would mean this terrible, heavy feeling on his shoulders was real, and not just the byproduct of his own mediocrity. He doesn’t want to be scared, he doesn’t want to be in danger, but at least it would provide a real reason for panic, and not just his own inability to measure up.  He doesn’t want to prove them all right, collapsing under the stress of a job poorly done and so easily crumbling at a stupid, made-up statement, targeted as it may be. 

“A joke, then.” Jon says, rubbing a hand at his temples, trying not to let the hurt seep into his voice. Tim makes a commiserating noise.

“You know how people are, the institute isn’t exactly popular. You remember last Halloween, when-”

“Yes, I don’t need a reminder.” Jon sighs. He’d rather not relive that day, stressful as it was. “But that wasn’t quite what I was thinking.”

Tim stares at him for a moment, uncomprehending. Jon continues, attempting to make his hands busy as he pointlessly shuffles papers.

“It’s rather pointed, isn’t it? I doubt someone off the street would create such a detailed account of the death of an...archivist as opposed to the usual ghostly drivel.”

A look of pity flickers in Tim’s eyes and Jon has to turn away. “I don’t really think anyone here would-”

“Really? You don’t?” Jon lets out a mirthless laugh, rubbing a hand across his face as he stares down at his desk. “I’m not blind. Or deaf.” The derisive snorts if he goes off on ‘needless tangents,’ how Rosie pretends to be busy whenever he approaches Elias’s office, the way his name badge still reads ‘researcher’ after months of asking for a new one. He’s basically become a pariah.

“Jon, did someone say something to you?” The words are carefully chosen and he’s leaning forward now, making as if to stand up and god forbid, do something comforting. It’s not that Jon doesn’t want the comfort; he craves it more than anything. But he’s gone without for so long he doesn’t trust himself not to break at the gentlest of touches. Being on the receiving end of Tim’s protective streak is nothing new, but he shouldn’t need his assistant looking out for him like he’s some sort of helpless infant. 

He snorts derisively instead, covering up the insecurity and hurt with a sardonic, self-effacing smile. The kind he knows Tim hates. “They don’t need to. I’ve walked in on conversations, I’ve seen the way people go quiet, the looks they give me-”

“Hey,” Tim’s voice is low, like he’s dealing with a frightened animal. Jon wonders how he looks, if Tim’s going this soft. “Don’t listen to them, alright? You inherited a mess, we all did- but we’re doing our best, yeah? Study and record, like Elias said.” Jon doesn’t dodge the hand that finally lands on shoulder, and he’ll deny to anyone that he leaned into it. 

“Study and record.” He repeats listlessly, slumping back down into his seat. He’s let himself get too worked up, acting like a child instead of a boss. He’s not sure when he started wearing his heart on his sleeve, but Tim’s always been good at reading him. Though he’d rather people think him an arrogant ass than the seething mess of insecurity he truly is. 

“Atta boy.” The pat to his shoulder is purposefully light, devoid of Tim’s usually friendly force that sends him stumbling forward. “Now get out of here at a normal time, alright? We can grab lunch tomorrow. Just the two of us, if you like.”

Jon makes a noncommittal grunt, though the thought is nice.  He entertains the idea for just a moment, remembering their occasional outings back in research. Tomorrow he’ll make his excuses. He hasn’t been much of a friend as of late, and he’s not sure he deserves the kindness of company.

“And if there’s anyone that needs a stern talking to from me, I-” Tim wags a finger and Jon rolls his eyes, ignoring the pang of warmth the words send through his chest.

“Don’t, please. It’s fine.” It isn’t. “But...thank you, Tim.”

“Course.” A wink and a sloppy salute to lighten the mood, and Jon feels the tension in his posture ease minutely as Tim shuts the door behind him. 

He lets out a breath and reaches for the tape recorder. He’s wasted too much time already.  

Be careful. There is something coming for you and I don’t know what it is, but it is so much worse than anything I can imagine. At the very least, you should look into appointing a successor.

Good luck.

He fights a shiver as the man’s voice leaves him and the last vestiges of that twilight world fade back to his dimly-lit office. In his follow up, he tries to play it off as a joke. A bit of hazing for the new boss. And yet the uneasiness still creeps into his voice, and he ends another tape on a stilted, half-believed note.

If this is genuine…

Jon prays that it isn’t. 

And like most of his prayers, it goes unheard and unanswered.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32165071

reblogs > likes

[haikyuuublog]

Haikyuu Characters as Theater Kids: Inarizaki Edition ft. Sakusa

Sakusa:

Came to practice just to see what was going on and Atsumu pressured him into trying out

Atsumu tried to dance with him and Sakusa swatted his hand away. He then proceeded to speed walk to the corner and use the entire supply of Purrell to “rid himself of that annoying germ”

Atsumu asked him if he thought he was contaminated jokingly

Sakusa just responded with “yes”

Then Atsumu asked, “Would you still love me if I was a germ 🥺”

Sakusa never returned to practice again

Atsumu:

Gets mad every time someone in the audience so much as whispers during the show

Does the fist thing on stage even though there is no music or chant. It looks really stupid.

Gets in fights with Osamu all the time omfg

He was banned from being on the stage at the same time as him because they would throw hands in the middle of the play 😤

Osamu had a line where his character insulted Atsumu’s. Atsumu glared at him yelled, “Ok, I see how it is. Insulting me during the play so I can’t fight back. Jokes on you, I’m gonna fight you anyway!” And then he tackled him and they literally fought onstage.

After the show, people thought that the fight was part of the actual play and Atsumu got praised because “wow, that fight choreography looked so realistic!”

Despite the praise, the instant the audience left, Stage Crew Iwaizumi grabbed them both and said, “the next time you two fight each other in front of me, the fight’s about to get A LOT MORE REALISTIC”

I need to mention Stage Crew Iwaizumi whenever I have the chance because he lives in my head rent free 😌

Atsumu is also so fucking cocky and brags about how good he is

I actually think he would have a good singing voice which is unfortunate because he has a right to brag 😔

Is a ridiculous perfectionist too so he would really want to be the best and put in the effort

Does not cooperate with the other actors and complains nonstop

Has driven away people trying to audition because he straight up will tell them they suck

Really goes all out on stage though. This attention whore needs the standing ovation

Osamu:

Eats on set

Like he brings a whole ass meal and if he’s hungry he will bring the food on stage

One time Atsumu said, “you don’t need to bring food because I’m already a full course meal”

From then on, he brought food for everyone but Atsumu

He does cook all the time for everyone else though

It’s on sight every time he and Atsumu are in the same vicinity

Kita:

Literally the ideal cast member

Hardworking, practices consistently, a leader, smart, patient, cooperative, graceful, doesn’t need to be the center of attention, memorizes all the lines so he could fill in for any cast member etc.

I have no critiques: like he’s genuinely perfect

However, he is really intimidating sometimes

Atsumu complained all the time about Osamu not giving him food. He kept making these annoying passive-aggressive remarks towards him. Like Osamu would mess up a line and Atsumu would be like, “Well MAYBE if you had actually GIVEN someone food, this wouldn’t have happened” or Atsumu would forget a line and be like, “Damn, I’m so HUNGRY, it’s hard to think.” And would just pointedly look towards Osamu.

One day Kita had had enough. In the middle of a scene, this man gets up on stage, walks straight up to Atsumu, and stares him down. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares. With intense eye contact.

Kita is 175.2 cm (5’9”) and Atsumu is 183.6 cm (6’.03”). Yet somehow it felt like Kita was the one looking down on him

Atsumu ended up profusely apologizing and promising he’d never complain about it ever again

Kita basically used only eye contact and his presence to make Atsumu shut the fuck up

So yeah, like I said, Kita’s an absolute saint 😇

Suna:

Records everything to post online

He has a tea account where he posts all the videos; it is mainly the Miya twins fighting

Has amassed so many followers

Some videos he has not posted because he “wanted to use them for future reference”

Atsumu said that suspiciously sounded like blackmail and Suna gave no response which was more concerning than if he said anything

Aran:

Another great person to have in the cast

Helps keep people in line (mainly the Miya Twins), is a good actor, is supportive of everyone

Similar to Kita, he is very mature and poised on set (unlike most people *cough cough* the Miya Twins)

He helps keep them humble too. Especially Atsumu.

Every time Atsumu says something outta pocket, Aran calls him out. His favorite one to say is, “Until you fix your whack ass dye job, you have no right to talk shit about anyone.”

On one hand, Aran does mean to roast him, but also he genuinely really wants Atsumu to fix his dye job.

Which is incredibly valid

Because it’s really bad

He has a bet with Osamu on if he can convince Atsumu to change his hair color

Unfortunately for Atsumu, the color Osamu would secretly dye Atsumu’s hair with was hot pink

But honestly, it’d still be an upgrade 🤷‍♀️

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N:

I had a really long day of work today, and I really wanted to get out these headcanons before the day is over. I know I said this about last post, but I really don’t think that these ones are as well-done as the others. I’m sorry that they’re not as funny or creative.

Also, this whole post is basically Atsumu slander. I would like to say that I love Atsumu. I kin Atsumu. I simp for Atsumu. But will I ever stop slandering Atsumu? No. No I will not.

[insaneoldme]

Can you rec buddie fics? Pretty please?

OMG it's my time to shine, bitches!!!

Sorry if I went a little nuts, but this fandom has some of the best writers I've ever seen. I have 186 Buddie fics bookmarked in my AO3,

I'll link here if you are interested in taking a look cause if I put them all here it would be too long. Also, I tried to show here some fics I very rarely see recced, and a little bit o the classics. This fandom has some very underrated authors, everyone in my bookmarks is worth taking a look really.

Please take a look at the warnings before reading, enjoy!!!

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies (Rated E )

Buck and Eddie had always been unconventional. Neither of them gave it much thought – they were just them. Buck and Eddie - partners, best friends, co-parents – just as entangled in each other’s lives as any actual couple in the 118.

Or, the story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

My Heart's Been Borrowed by ElvenSorceress (Rated E)

aka the one where Taylor gives Buck his ultimate fantasy and uncovers far more than either of them expected, forcing him to confront his long held feelings for Eddie

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by HMSLusitania (Rated E)

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) (Rated E)

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

Keep It On by R_E_R6 (Rated E)

When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by ElvenSorceress (Rated T)

Buck nearly loses everything and Eddie has to follow his heart

hungry for your love by evcndiaz (Rated G)

prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

or; breadsticks are a metaphor for love and boning

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests (Rated M)

A glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

when things fall into place by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Eddie asks Buck to move in with them during lockdown to help look after Christopher, which leads to certain unresolved feelings being resolved.

Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not.

Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts.

Except for how... he might not.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates (Rated E)

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.

But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back.

He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

ripples all the way down by iriswests (Rated M)

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings (Rated M)

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Hi, I’ve never made a Reddit post before and I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing but I need advice and can’t ask anyone in my real life. So, I [30M] have this best friend [34M]…

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea (Rated M)

“You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.

And that makes Eddie frustrated.

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea.

Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right?

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

Memorable by JessicaMDawn (Rated T)

Six times Buck got recognized by people he saved during the tsunami, and how his team realized he was a hero.

All Bets are Off by NobodyKnows_U (Not Rated)

Or, the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it.

fire on fire by extasiswings (Rated T)

Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.

Better Together by Randomfandombloggs09 (Not Rated)

5 times Eddie sees Buck wearing his last name and 1 time its not just his

Daddy and Pops by EdithBlake (Rated M)

When Christopher calls Buck 'Pops' things get a bit confusing. Buck and Eddie have a talk with Christopher that ends up with both of them being even more confused by how right it sounds.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (Rated E)

unknown sender: Hi!

unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.

unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.

sent: hey um

sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but

sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

the dream you wish will come true by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Christopher Diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when Evan Buckley is right there.

vienna waits for you by mottainai (Not Rated)

Eddie doesn't deserve a soulmate.

Work Husband by hideeho (Rated T)

“What...what have you done with Buck?” Eddie is going to kill him for messing with his phone. No, that’s too extreme. He’s going to maim him. Just a little.

“Check under H,” Chim offers helpfully, shooting a look over to Hen with a smirk.

Why the hell would he be under—

Then he sees it.

Husband.

Bad Neighbors by firstdegreefangirl (Rated E)

Eddie's new neighbors are keeping him up all night. He calls on his best friend for a little taste of their own medicine.

Cross the Line by Sirencalls (Rated E)

Eddie laughs, short and quiet and almost to himself. “No. If you want to learn, then I’m gonna be the one to teach you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain stops working. “What? Why?”

Eddie turns to look at him and steps closer, their chests only a few inches apart. “Because there are people out there who will take advantage of how naïve you are. They’ll hurt you, and I won’t.” Eddie’s eyes are so intense that Buck doesn’t have any choice but to believe him. “If you want someone to do this for you, to—to dominate you, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

pretty in pink by dykeevans (Rated E)

Buck forgets that he and Eddie made plans to hang out until Eddie shows up and Buck's in the middle of laundry day.

His laundry day outfit consists of a small pink crop top and grey sweatpants.

Eddie loses his damn mind. Me too, though, me too.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies (Rated G)

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him.

“That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him.

-or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Something Old, Something New by dumbhuman (Rated E)

“Damn, I love weddings!” Buck’s face lit up as he closed the door.

If asked later, Eddie wouldn’t have been able to explain what came over him in that moment to make him ask the question. Or, at least, he wouldn’t have wanted to explain. The exhaustion was an easy excuse, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t a real one.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

one of the few things by thatnerdemryn (Rated G)

five times that Eddie tells someone else that Buck is Christopher's legal guardian plus one time he finally tells Buck.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu (Rated T)

“Why is everybody taking my relationship status so personally? Can’t I be fine with being single?” Buck said.

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes, be sad and alone if that’s what you want,” Josh replied. “But, I’m just saying. I’ve seen photos and this guy is volcanic levels of hot. Also, single dad, super cute kid. Saves lives for a living like you. I think you should give it a go.”

(the one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there)

Keeping It In The Family by Wolves_of_Innistrad (Rated T)

A young man shows up at the firehouse looking for Buck. Turns out Javier was a Bartender with Buck in Mexico. He’s back in LA, looking to reconnect and very flirty. Cue Eddie realizing Buck is not as straight as he thought.

kiss me (like your ex is in the room) by rebeccaofsbfarm (Rated E)

Eddie Diaz gets drunk and protective and signs up for a fake double date to get back at his friend's ex.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania (Rated M)

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is… missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home

All my Buddie AO3 bookmarks

As I said this fandom has some very talented people, some of my favorite Authors's Tumblrs below, I recommend all the things they wrote and their blogs are very good.

@elvensorceress, @hmslusitania, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings

For gifs:

@arrenemris, @skylessnights (very lovely AU gifsets)

@from-nova(good gifs & content)

For Podfics: @mistmarauder everything she ever read is amazing, her podfics are high quality and she has a very lovely voice and her presence calms me down lol I recommend it

I'm sorry there are a lot more people but I'm kinda in a rush haha most of the people I follow are amazing, but the ones I mentioned here are enough to get you started or entertained for a while.

Buddie fics are amazing, this pairing has spoiled me so much, everyone I met because of it is nice and so active and talented.

Sorry mutuals if I forgot someone! 

I hope I helped Anon, have fun!

(Tell me if any link is wrong please, thanks)

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 8

First

Previous

Marinette had never thought that living in another world would be this hard.

Sure, she had known that she would have issues when it came to the whole ‘she wasn’t technically supposed to be here and therefore needed a new identity’ thing. That was kind of obvious. The story they’d come up with had been simple enough -- she had grown up in Gotham with her parents, was highschool sweethearts with Tim, they had gotten married, he’d moved in with her, and her parents had died so she’d gotten custody of Damian. She was pretty sure Tim had a tragic backstory, but she didn’t really have that memorized yet. She wasn’t all that worried about it, though, she spent quite a lot of time dodging answering questions about her private life as Ladybug. Marinette probably wouldn’t even need to memorize his backstory (she would, of course, because she was nothing if not an overachiever, but she was well aware of the fact that it wasn’t quite necessary).

But, no, it was the small things that made it difficult.

Like affection.

Marinette was Parisian, she was used to greeting people with kisses on both cheeks. Hugs were something reserved for people you were close to.

But, no, Americans just insisted on being backward in everything that they do. And, supposedly, Marinette was American. She could get away with her accent because Gotham had a bunch of different people and it was easy to claim she came from the French part of town, but when it came to customs? No, she had to at least try and act like someone who had lived in America for her entire life.

So, when she was greeted with a hug from the most affectionate of her fellow interns, Marinette suppressed a cringe and patted her on the back awkwardly.

“Hi, Paige,” she said.

Paige beamed. “Ready for work?”

Marinette squinted up at the building. The WE in this universe was even taller than in her usual one.

… or maybe it just looked like that because she dreaded going inside. Ugh. Being an intern was going to suck.

“No.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

“Thanks…”

But, despite Paige’s assurances, it did not go fine.

And it wasn’t even the job thing that wasn’t going well. That, at least, she could handle. No, it was this world’s meme culture that sent her spiraling.

She’d been holding exactly nine cups of coffee, seven mugs of tea, and one energy drink can. Marinette didn’t know if it was her time working in a bakery or some sort of latent Ladybug skills or what but it wasn’t even all that difficult to hold them all.

Paige raised her eyebrows at her, looking vaguely concerned. “Do you need help?” She asked, hands already out as if expecting her to say yes.

Marinette cracked a grin. “No. I’m fine. It’s not even that hard. I could probably carry another two drinks, even.”

“Freaky flexing, but fine.”

“... the fuck did you just say to me?”

~

Tim hummed lightly as he bounced on the balls of his feet, baby sleeping soundly on his shoulder. Marinette fumbled the keys to their new apartment, mumbling curses.

She’d outright told him that she didn’t really care, that she’d lived above a bakery for most of her life so it wasn’t like she would mind as long as the place had counter space…

So why was he nervous?

He felt the tiny hand in his shirt grip him tighter and he looked down. Damian was still fast asleep, sucking on his pacifier peacefully. Tim wondered, idly, how that worked. Was it a reflex that humans lose as they age like the grasping reflex or was it a learned behavior that went away when it wasn’t reinforced anymore?

Marinette managed to open the door, her cheeks tinged red at how difficult it had been, and she swung it open.

He stopped bobbing up and down to watch her face.

But she just shrugged to herself and bent down to grab the box she’d brought up.

He tried not to look too relieved as he followed her inside and watched her set the box down on the kitchen island.

She glanced back at him. “I call cleaning and setting up the apartment!” She said brightly.

“Okay…?” He said, confused as to why she was so excited to clean up…

But then Damian started to stir.

Oh. If she had cleanup duty… then he had…

Baby duty.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Shit, Mari, wait --!”

“Too late! You already said okay!” She said, already heading to the door.

Damian spat out his pacifier and took that one long, deep breath he always took before he was about to scream.

“Mari!”

She stuck her tongue out at him and disappeared around the doorframe just as the baby started to cry.

Tim heaved a sigh and pressed a kiss to the top of the kid’s head. The wailing quieted a little, but didn’t stop. Tim would take it, he hadn’t even been expecting Damian to quiet himself. This was an absolute win in his book.

He glanced at the box that had been brought up but, unfortunately, they hadn’t had enough foresight to bring the baby supplies.

He poked his head out the door and yelled for Marinette to bring up the box with the baby stuff first. She yelled ‘fuck you’ in response but when she came back she handed him the box regardless.

He smiled -- or, at least, he smiled as much as it was possible to smile when a baby was screaming at you -- and went to work figuring out what was wrong.

~

There was good news and bad news.

Good news was that Damian was starting to learn that crying was okay.

Bad news was that Damian was starting to learn that crying was okay.

And, listen, Marinette obviously preferred that. She wanted to know when the kid was hurt or hungry or even just craving affection… but ugh.

She twisted around in the bed to squint at the clock.

Three o’clock. Great.

She groaned softly and buried her face in Damian’s hair again. “Dami, please, I have work tomorrow. Shhhhhhhhh,” she pleaded. As if she didn’t have to go to work every day.

Damian, of course, didn’t stop crying.

Marinette thought she was going to cry.

Tim pulled his arm from around them so he could cover his ears with his pillow.

She reluctantly sat up. Damian banged his little fists against her shoulder in an attempt to tell her… something. Probably that he wasn’t happy. As if the entire apartment complex couldn’t hear just how unhappy he was.

She changed his diaper and then got him Cow. Hopefully that would sate him for the rest of the night.

She clambered back into bed and sent Tim a weak smile when he wrapped an arm around them.

She scooted toward him, because Damian was reaching for him and his eyes were closed, and tucked her head under his chin. He tensed just slightly before relaxing and tangling his legs with hers.

Damian seemed to like being cocooned between them, because he made a vague happy sound and settled down to sleep without much (more) fussing.

Tim hummed lightly. His voice was terrible, but it seemed to calm Damian so Marinette wasn’t about to complain.

It took a while for Damian to go back to sleep but, eventually, he did. Unfortunately, he fell asleep while biting the crinkly ears of his plush and it was hard to sleep with the steady crkcrkcrkcrk sound right next to her.

From the way Tim’s breathing had yet to slow, he wasn’t asleep either.

Well, at least that was something to do.

“I’m beginning to think the reason babies are so cute is that otherwise we would kill them,” she joked, her voice soft so as not to wake the kid again.

Not that it would matter all that much. She could, unfortunately, not see herself going back to sleep before her alarm went off.

He chuckled and nodded as much as he could with her head beneath his. “Right? I just want one night of good sleep --.”

He stopped suddenly.

She drew back a little to check that he was fine, only to see him looking mildly horrified.

“We need to go back home soon. I’m going to get used to sleeping like a normal person. I can’t do that,” he said.

She grinned. “Oh no. The horror.”

“No, you don’t get it. If I do that then I’ll be giving into my family’s wishes. I can’t let them think they’re right about something!”

She giggled, shaking her head. “Here, I’ll make it easier for you: I don’t want you to sleep. As Dami and I are your only family -- legally -- for the next fifteen years, you must not do what we want. Therefore, you have to sleep.”

“Ah. Reverse psychology.”

“Well, I am a psych major.” Some of the amusement faded. “Was a psych major.”

“... really?”

“Yeah. I dunno. I’d figured it was the closest I could get to being Ladybug again.”

“You’re still Ladybug.”

She shrugged just slightly. “Yeah. I dunno,” she said again. She tried for a grin. “Doesn’t feel the same when there’s no emotional terrorism involved.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to do the same thing over and over again for a million years.”

“There’s some comfort in things staying the same.”

“Oh? Maybe we should trade.”

“That’s an amazing plan that I see no problems with. You get to go around beating up the Meta Of The Week and I’ll stay in Gotham dealing with all the idiots in spandex.”

“Are we switching outfits, too?”

“Oh yeah. Obviously. Gotta commit to the whole ‘switching’ thing. I bet I’ll look cuter in your outfit, too.”

“Ah, yes, because cuteness is the most important part of vigilante costumes.”

“We end up in papers all the time, being cute is totally important.”

He chuckled lightly and she felt the arm around her give her a tiny squeeze. She buried her face in his chest.

“You should try and sleep.”

“Hypocrite,” she teased, but she could already feel her eyelids drooping.

He hummed. She thought that, maybe, it didn’t sound so bad as to make him stop.

~

Tim had been in the middle of bathing Damian as he always did before bed when he’d accidentally splashed water on his face.

Perfectly fine and normal.

What wasn’t perfectly fine and normal was that the baby responded by saying: “Oh shit!”

Tim’s eyes narrowed.

“MARINETTE,” he yelled.

Marinette was there in seconds. There was some kind of green paste on her face. She’d been in the middle of her usual skincare routine. He thought it was kind of weird that near-immortals needed skincare routines but that wasn’t the point here.

She looked around frantically. “What?! What’s wrong?!”

“Damian just said sh --... he said the s-word.”

Marinette relaxed at that and sent Tim a glare. “Don’t blame this one on me. You’re the one that says that.”

Tim frowned. Because, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure she was right.

“Now, if he’d said ‘fuck’, that would have been on me, but he didn’t, so --.”

“FUCK,” Damian said brightly.

Tim glared at Marinette again, this time rightfully so.

She looked a little sheepish. “... okay, yeah, that one’s on me.”

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Master Fu: Master of Failure (200 Follower Special)

Mentors are some of the most important characters in all of pop culture, as they help the protagonist advance in his journey while helping them improve in skill and personal growth. Because of their vital role, mentors tend to be among some of the most memorable characters in their respective franchises.

Mentors can be a variety of people, from wise sages, to former soldiers, to just regular people with a strong moral compass. What matters is the impact they have on the hero, and the role they play in the story.

Master Fu does a poor job at accomplishing both of those qualifications.

Like, well, basically every bad thing in Miraculous Ladybug, the ideas behind Master Fu were interesting in concept. The problem was the execution, or rather, what little we got with Master Fu. Yet he still manages to be memorable (no pun intended) for all the wrong ways. But before we get into Master Fu, let's get into a problem with Miraculous Ladybug in general that plagues several characters and plotlines.

Order of the... What Exactly?

Despite being “the last known member of the Order of the Guardians”, Master Fu hasn't really explained much about the Order he's from. All we really know is that he was trained to guard the Miraculous and distribute them to worthy people. And the Order does this... why exactly?

This is a huge problem with Miraculous Ladybug, the underdeveloped lore behind a major part of the story. Despite being connected to the Miraculous, you know, the magical artifacts the show is named after, we still don't really know much about why they were formed in the first place, and what their connection to the Miraculous is.

Oh wait, the origin of the Miraculous actually is explained... in an issue of the tie-in comic.

Someone seriously thought it was a good idea to explain that Kwamis are connected to abstract concepts like creation and destruction, and how the Miraculous were created, both very important things to learn, AND THEY DID IT IN A GODDAMN TIE-IN COMIC THAT ONLY LASTED THREE ISSUES! 

I shouldn't be expected to read supplementary material to understand the backstory of a show. You don't need to watch Star Wars: The Clone Wars to understand the tragedy of Order 66, so why would you expect your audience to read a comic book to understand the origin of the magical objects that give your main characters superpowers?

Even the explanation we got isn't that detailed. Okay, fine some guy created the Miraculous to give the Kwamis tangibility (which actually explains how they can phase through solid objects), but... how and why? How was this sage able to see Tikki, how was he able to create the Miraculous, and why did he do it?

This extends to the Order of the Guardians as well. How and why were they formed? What exactly do they even do besides guard Miraculous? Why do they even guard the Miraculous in the first place? We even learn more about their methods, and trust me, I'll get to that later.

In Xiaolin Showdown, the pilot episode of all things explains why Shen Gong Wu are so important, and why the Xiaolin Dragons dedicate their lives to protecting them, because they maintain the balance between good and evil, and if they fall into the hands of evil, the world could fall into 10,000 years of darkness. Yeah, the first episode actually does a good job at explaining the backstory of the show, who would have thought? And it's from a show that has a better representation of Chinese culture when this is what the main character looks like.

Overall, the Order of the Guardians is an underdeveloped concept that does very little to help out Master Fu as a character. If the backstory of a character is so vague, how can we even understand the character's motivations in the first place? And by God, are Master Fu's motivations confusing.

Master of Not Doing Anything

Before I started working on this, I saw a video review of Miraculous Ladybug by someone who had never seen the show before, and only did so because one of his friends said they would start watching One Punch Man if he did. Even though he only mentioned Master Fu a few times, he described him as “a dude with a jewelry box full of superhero bling”, and felt like that was all those unfamiliar with the show needed to know. As someone who is familiar with the show? Yeah, that's basically all Master Fu is.

Despite being classified as a mentor, Master Fu doesn't really do a lot of mentoring. Sure, he occasionally talks to Marinette, but whenever things get rough, all he really does is hand out a Miraculous for Marinette to give to someone else temporarily.

And I've said it multiple times, but the Rent-A-Miraculous system is a horrible idea. Not only does it require Ladybug to basically leave Cat Noir to fend for himself while she rushes over to Master Fu, she has to think of an ideal candidate for the Miraculous she takes, find said candidate, rush back to where the Akuma is, hope Cat Noir wasn't incapacitated by the Akuma, and then haul ass to Master Fu's place to return the Miraculous as soon as the fight's over.

The idea of introducing new heroes is interesting, but because we see them so rarely, they don't really feel that important. I get that the title is “Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir”, but I just wish the show would do more with the temporary heroes, like see how it affects their lives. Unfortunately, I can't, thanks to “Miracle Queen”, as usual. I'll get to that episode again later on.

Even when Master Fu takes out the Miraculous, he doesn't really help Marinette think of which one to choose. He just says something like “Take a Miraculous, but be sure to return it to me when you're done.” It doesn't matter, because Marinette apparently knows how all fifteen Miraculous in the box work. Hey, wouldn't it have been nice to see Master Fu actually teach Marinette how every Miraculous works? Maybe have him suggest which Miraculous to take based on the Akuma's powers? I'm just saying, maybe you can take time away from Ladybug and Cat Noir fighting a giant baby to actually give more focus on other characters.

Before that, he was just planning to do nothing and hope Ladybug and Cat Noir could reclaim Hawkmoth's Miraculous for him. According to Tikki in “The Collector”, Marinette isn't even supposed to see the Guardian, and only met Master Fu because she found the Grimoire. So despite being “Guardians of the Miraculous”, he doesn't even help out the random people he decided to give Miraculous to? It's a miracle Ladybug and Cat Noir survived an entire season without any real guidance from Master Fu.

The third season tries to do something by having Master Fu train Marinette to become a guardian, but all of the training is entirely offscreen, and by “Feast”, he just says that her training is complete, and then makes her a guardian against her will in “Miracle Queen”.

Then there are moments unrelated to the Miraculous where he fails to actually be a mentor. Everyone knows about how stupid it was that the writers wanted the audience to sympathize with Adrien for threatening to quit being Cat Noir while Paris is flooded, but this also could have been a moment where Master Fu helped him talk about his feelings, or maybe dispense some wisdom about how hard it is to understand if someone actually trusts him or not. You know, act as a mentor to Adrien?

But instead, they brush over this potentially interesting character moment, because that would actually imply that Adrien has flaws. Because we all know Astruc loves to show the audience that Adrien Agreste is basically the second coming of Jesus Christ, right? And even though the episode making a big deal about Adrien not knowing Master Fu, they really don't have any meaningful conversations outside of that episode, except maybe “Party Crasher”. Though the episode does have Master Fu taking action when Ladybug is incapacitated by the Akuma by giving a Miraculous... to someone he barely knows swimming in Adrien's bathtub. Even he regrets his choice a few minutes later.

And then there's the fact that despite it being his job to guard the Miraculous, he does literally nothing to figure out where the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous are. Sure, he briefly talked with Marinette about Gabriel possibly being Hawkmoth in “The Collector”, but she did most of the investigating in that episode.

Hell, “Sandboy” establishes there's a way to contact Nooroo, the Kwami of the Butterfly Miraculous, on his birthday, but Master Fu turned it down, so they did it behind his back! For the love of God, this is a chance to figure out who Hawkmoth is and bring the conflict with him to an end, and you're passing it up?! In “Heart Hunter”, Master Fu says that Hawkmoth “talks a lot, but hasn't achieved much so far”, but you could easily apply that to Master Fu himself.

Outside of giving Miraculous to Marinette to borrow, what has Master Fu actually accomplished in the story? Maybe his backstory will shed more light on him as a character, and won't just make him look even worse.

The Bungled Backstory

One of the most frustrating things about Master Fu's backstory is that it actually has some pretty good buildup.

In “The Collector” we learn that Master Fu made a mistake that led to the destruction of the temple the Guardians operated out of, and the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous were lost in the process. This does a good job at setting up the mystery of what Master Fu did to destroy the temple in the first place. It continues in “Sandboy”, where Master Fu's worst nightmare is him heing haunted by the ghosts of the guardians he accidentally killed, and then we see in “Backwarder” that Master Fu had confidants to help him keep the Miraculous safe from what are assumed to be the Nazis. Because I guess guardians get to share their secrets, but not Ladybug and Cat Noir?

And then we learned the full backstory in “Feast”. Much like how “Oblivio” and “Cat Blanc” killed any chances of me ever showing any sympathy to Alya and Gabriel respectively, I lost all respect for Master Fu after watching this episode.

We learn that Fu was chosen to be a guardian at a very young age, and had no other choice but to start his training. One day, he was assigned to watch over A Miracle Box as a test for twenty-four hours without any food, water, or sleep. He decided to use the Peacock Miraculous to create a Sentimonster to get him some food, but his anger corrupted the Sentimonster that made it go on a rampage to eat the Miraculous in the temple... and somehow set the temple on fire judging from this shot.

In my main blog, I had originally made a post calling out Master Fu for what he did, but since then, I've mostly softened up. This is just a fan theory you are free do disagree with, but I like to think that Fu was supposed to use a Miraculous during the test. Maybe he was supposed to use the Mouse Miraculous to get some food while one of the clones sat and watched the box, or use the Horse Miraculous to sneak to the kitchen.

My problem comes from how his backstory affects his actions, and makes him look like a complete hypocrite.

Even though he hated the fact that he was basically drafted to become a guardian when he was only a child, he saw no problem handing out Miraculous to children who weren't that much older than he was when he burned down the temple. I don't even think he should even qualify as a master. His title shouldn't be “Master Fu”, but something more along the lines of “Acting Master Fu” on account of the other guardians burning to death.

Say what you will about Zordon for recruiting teenagers with attitude to become the Power Rangers, but what makes him more likable than Master Fu was that he actually cared about them. He routinely gave them advice, never really lost his patience with them, and understood they had lives outside of their jobs as Rangers. Hell, he was even willing to let them retire to peruse major opportunities in their lives, like Jason, Zack, Trini, and Kimberly, because he knows what it's like to be trapped in a situation that prevents him from living a normal life.

In fact, if Fu really hated being forced to become a guardian, why did he have no problem doing the same thing to Marinette? If anything, Fu should hate the Order of the Guardians, but it's never really explained what really motivated him to continue their practices.

Usually, a backstory related to a supporting character is meant to be followed up by the main characters doing something so history doesn't repeat itself. Anakin Skywalker was driven to the Dark Side because he was afraid of losing someone close to him, with the Jedi Order giving him no support due to their rules against personal attachments. This ideology is subverted in the original trilogy when it's Luke Skywalker's compassion for his father that motivated Anakin to rebel against the Emperor and fulfill his destiny as the chosen one.

But instead of learning from past events, or maybe realizing the Order of the Guardians was never as noble as we were led to assume it was, Master Fu just upholds their tradition of enlisting child soldiers to protect these world-ending artifacts while barely doing anything to help them out. And nobody ever acknowledges there might be anything wrong with the Order.

The Cowardly (and Hypocritical) Turtle

Despite being established to be 186 years old (which still hasn't been explained), and the destruction of the temple happening when he was a child, Master Fu hasn't really done anything with his position.

Despite having all the time in the world, as well as a Miraculous that lets him teleport anywhere, he still hasn't found the missing two Miraculous that Gabriel managed to find at least 129 years after he lost them, give or take.

There's also the fact that, at least, according to the flashback in “Backwarder”, Master Fu may or may not have chosen to sit down and let several historical atrocities and conflicts happen because he didn't want to risk losing the Miraculous. You know, minor things like the Taiping Rebellion, the Crimean War, World War I and II, the Rape of Nanking, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Tienanmen Square Massacre and God knows what else. What did Master Fu even do while he ran around the world to keep the Miraculous safe anyway?

These both factor into the biggest problem with Master Fu as a character: He's a coward.

Whenever he's confronted with a tough situation, Master Fu's first instinct is to run away and hide. As soon as the Sentimonster that destroyed the temple returns, he takes back Marinette and Adrien's Miraculous and runs away. As soon as Hawkmoth finds out about his existence, he packs up his stuff and runs away. When he's captured by Hawkmoth and Mayura, he gives up his position as Guardian and forces Marinette to take on the role, so he can run away safely.

And once again, despite hating the Order for forcing him to train to become a Guardian, Master Fu has no problem with forcing Marinette, someone who was only a few years older than he was when he was drafted, to become the next Guardian of the Miraculous, all while conveniently losing his memory in the process, which implies that Marinette will lose her memory when she retires as Guardian. I once made a submission to Terrible Miraculous Ladybug AU's joking that he only made up the whole amnesia thing just to dump the responsibility of being Guardian on Marinette, but with his appearance in the Season 4 teaser, I'm genuinely worried that may be true.

And yet, despite every incompetent thing he's done, the show keeps trying to portray Master Fu as this wise old soul, because like with so many characters, the writers think if they keep saying things that aren't true, the audience will just give up and accept these ideas as fact. “Master Fu is a wise mentor”. “Alya is a good journalist”. “Ladybug and Cat Noir are equal”. “Chloe is irredeemable”. “Gabriel is a sympathetic villain”. “Lila is a good liar”. “Thomas Astruc responds to criticism like an adult”.

And I'm not against the idea of a flawed mentor either. I already talked about how complex Dr. K is as a character, and how her connection to Venjix makes her an interesting mentor. What I want is for the narrative to acknowledge that Master Fu is way out of his league. I want someone, anyone, to actually call him out for how poorly he's handled things. I don't want to be told he's a great mentor when the evidence clearly shows otherwise.

But it seems like we may never get that in the show, even though it looks like he's going to return in Season 4.

Let's just hope Master Su-Han is a better mentor, and actually appears in more than a single episode before being escorted off so Marinette can't have any confidants as Guardian. Who am I kidding? That's basically what's going to happen.

[cringelordlikesplaz]

Strange to be an Eel

Turning into silly putty wasn't the strangest thing that had happened to him, honestly. It’s everything that happened after that which was weird.

"Please! I'm begging you, Jake bailed last minute and we don't have any replacements! This musical is our last chance. If this flops, we'll never be able to keep this place open!" She cried. 'She' being a short woman with desperate tears in her eyes and too many freckles. 

Eel pulled his wrist out of her surprisingly strong grip. He shook his hand off and observed the woman in front of him. She looked stressed, tired, and a general mess. Her name tag read ‘Penny’.

"Well, Penny." He said curtly, "I got things to do. Better things to do than-"

"But you're the perfect fit! You're the right size, you already know all the lines-"

"Seeing a musical five times doesn't mean I've memorized-"

Penny snapped to attention and pointed her finger into the air dramatically. The imaginary audience located in the storeroom fell silent. 

"And if I'm not here to save the day- Then as God as my witness, I'll be here to save the night!"

"-It's 'then as the gods as my witnesses'." Eel pointed out. Penny smiled smugly and Eel shook himself off.

"That doesn't prove anything. And it doesn't change the fact I can't go onstage!" Eel said.

"You'll be wearing makeup and goggles! A hat too! No one will be able to recognize you in costume!" Penny said, suddenly desperate again.

"No! I won't do it!" Eel said in response to her puppy eyes.

"Please! Please, Bruce Wayne's out there and if this goes well the PR will be fantastic!" She said, tears beginning to fall.

Eel looked up at the cracked ceiling and let out a long, long groan.

"I want 100 bucks." Eel said.

"Deal!" Penny said, the tears instantly evaporating. 

Damn actors.

~~~

So, the musical rendition of the hit show 'The Grey Ghost' went pretty damn well, in Eel's opinion. He was skeptical at first, as anyone should be, but he had to admit it, Penny was right. He was an amazing Grey Ghost. 

It helped that Eel had been a fan of the Grey Ghost since he was a boy, and it also maybe helped that he had snuck into the theater to see the practice runs of the play five times. He had thought he was being sneaky, but apparently theater kids could like, smell intruders. Fresh blood, if you would.

He hadn't known what would happen when he was cornered by a very manic little blond lady, but it ended up surprisingly well. He even got paid. 

After he and the other actors had taken their bows or whatever, Eel snuck back to the storeroom. He pried off the grey suit- it was kinda itchy honestly- and began to dig around for his usual clothes. 

He put his suit on. The nice one, that didn't pinch his shoulders and had all his crap in the pockets. He buttoned up the coat and pulled out his glasses. They were black and pretty slick, if he was honest with himself. Which he was. Occasionally.

The temples were wide and helped hide his eyes from the side. They hid his scar even better. They were sunglasses, unfortunately, not the best eyewear to have in Gotham, but he liked them. And that was enough for now. 

They were also expensive as all hell. Some sort of designer brand. He would wear them till they broke for how much they cost him. 

There was a knock on the door.

"I'm decent," Eel said. 

Penny opened the door and held her clipboard to her chest excitedly. Her eyes sparkled. 

"So." She said.

"So?" He asked.

"So! Y'know how Bruce Wayne was in the crowd tonight?" She asked.

"Yup," He said. 

"He liked it! He liked it so much he wants to fund us!" She said, "And he wants to meet you."

Eel blinked. "He what?" 

"He said your performance was incredible! He wants to meet you!"

"No." 

"No?" She asked, her head cocked, "But you've got so much talent! He could get you a job, y'know." 

"No. Just- no." Eel shook his head. He could just hear the sirens now. "I can't, Penny."

She seemed like she wanted to press him- like she did with getting him into the costume. But something on his face made her reconsider, apparently.

"Alright." She said, sighing, "I'll tell him you're not available."

"Thanks, pal." Eel said.

They stood awkwardly.

"I need to go." He said, pointing behind her to the door.

"I- okay." She said. Penny stepped aside and Eel left the storage room, Penny following behind. She led him to the backdoor.

"Um, thank you...?" She said as he stepped out into the alley.

"It's best if you don't know my name." Eel said.

"Will you be back?" 

"Probably not." Eel said, "What with your success here tonight- I think there's going to be too much foot traffic around for a crook like me to be hidden."

She smiled softly, "You weren't very hidden in the first place."

"I'll have you know I've hidden from cops in more obvious spots."

"I think that says more about the GCPD than it does your skill," Penny said.

Eel huffed, mockingly offended.

"Later, miss." He said, turning to leave.

"Goodbye." She said.

Penny waved to his back and waited for him to slink into the shadows before she shut the door.

~~~

"Eel O'brian." A gruff voice called.

Eel grinned and craned his head around to look at a familiar face.

"Matches! Ol' pal, where've you been? It's been ages." Eel said.

Matches Malone slid into the seat next to him at the bar. The bartender wordlessly handed Matches a drink and Matches wordlessly slid a few bills over the counter.

Eel took a sip of his own drink- a cocktail.

"I've heard there's work around." Matches said, taking his match out of his mouth to take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably.

"I mean, yeah-" Eel said, rolling the cherry around his glass for the hell of it, "But there's always work around."

"Hmm." 

"Yeah yeah, I know what ya mean." Eel said, nodding. "You want the work that won't have you dressed up as a daisy and punched by a furry. I gotcha."

"Hmm."

"I miss the good 'ol days, Matches. Before all these folks in spandex came along and started going nuts all over town-" Eel paused, taking a sip of his cocktail, "-But I do got to admit it; the spandex is pretty hot."

"I need cash." Matches said, ever eloquent. 

"Cheers to that!" Eel laughed. He downed the rest of his drink, swallowing the cherry. 

"Where's the work?" Matches finally asked, and Eel's grin faltered. Always work and no play with this guy.

But Matches seemed to like him well enough, so Eel wouldn't hold it against him.

"So, new boss in the West part of town looking to hire some folks. I think they're hiding something pretty big, but we won't know that 'till we get there, won't we, Matches?" Eel said.

"Hmm."

"Yeah, me too buddy."

~~~

Things at the new job were getting crazy. Like, really really crazy. Like the type of crazy he spent a great amount of his time trying in vain to avoid. Super crazy.

Pun intended.

It started off fairly normal. By Gotham standards anyway. Looting places. Stealing. Scarin' the living daylights out of folks. Keeping out of the limelight. 

But the boss turned out to be working for an even bigger boss- who had a penchant for monologuing- and Eel couldn't help the sinking feeling he had in his gut.

And then the boss- the small boss and not the bigger, monologuing boss- somehow kidnapped Batgirl of all people and decided to drown her. And he did it in this big glass chamber with a valve on the side. 

He stood in front of it, glaring at each of his men accusingly.

He had each of them turn the valve, adding a few inches of water to the chamber, and taking few inches of air away from Batgirl. He was trying to root out a snitch. Or, as he put it, a bat.

Matches didn't even hesitate. Eel wished he had that guy's confidence.

But Eel? He wasn't a big fan of murder. It made him feel icky. It kept him awake at night. He already had enough insomnia, thank you very much.

And Batgirl- She was just a kid. A baby-faced teenager. Up close, she was no longer a force of nature fighting alongside a cryptid. She was a teenager up to her nose in water, her clothes torn and bloody.

Eel went last.

He put his hands on the valve and-

He couldn't do it.

He wouldn't.

A lot of things happened after that.

The boss (the small one) told the rest to shoot him down, and Eel had a half a second to view his terrible life before Matches tackled him to the floor.

The glass of the chamber broke and the room was suddenly flooded with a lot of water and one very mad vigilante. Then a window got busted in, even more glass flying, and then two Robins showed up- There was the young Robin who was grumpy and the other older Robin that wasn't Robin anymore but Eel couldn't really be bothered to remember his name at the moment.

There was fighting, gunfire, blood, and then there was glass in his hands-

And then Matches had somehow manifested them both outside and set Eel on his feet.

"You-" Eel spluttered, "You saved me!" 

Matches looked at Eel. Eel looked at Matches. The street was quiet. Inside the building, it was not.

"Thank you." Eel said softly.

"...You cost me my payment." Matches said at last.

Eel's face fell.

"I just- She's just a kid, Matches. I ain't a monster." Eel said.

Matches shook his head and walked away, leaving Eel on the sidewalk with glass in his hands.

Guess he was wrong about Matches.

~~~

That day wasn't too bad, though. In the middle of the night he was woken up to a knock at his window. His fourth story window in his crappy apartment.

He opened his window and suddenly a basket was shoved into his arms. He fumbled with it for a second, his hands still raw. There was a blur of movement and Eel was left standing half-naked holding a- a gift basket?

He sorted through it- it had cash and cookies and bandages. It also had a plain white card. He opened it and raised a brow in surprise.

"Thanks for not drowning me!" 

It was signed with a little bat drawn in the corner. 

The cookies were delicious.

~~~

The safe was built into the wall. The safe itself wasn't too big, and the wall was only made of plaster. It would be a pain to lug the safe back to base though. And it would cost precious seconds to hack away at the wall to get the safe out-

There was really only one option. The bomb he had was small and wouldn't do much in terms of excavation- but it would absolutely open up that pesky Wayne-Tech lock.

"Alright guys, we need to get back-" Eel didn't hear anyone. He turned- "Guys?"

"It's been a while, O'brian." Batman said, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of his crime buddies. Well, not really buddies- you get the point.

"Batman! Hello! I don't think we've met," Eel said, swinging on his heel and turning to face his doom.

"No, we haven't. But when I didn't hear word from the police of any of your activity for a few months- well." Batman took a silent step closer. "One tends to worry."

"Oh? Me? Lil 'ol me? You shouldn't have." Eel batted his eyelashes, though the effect was diminished as he was wearing his shades.

"You plan these heists well." Batman said slowly, "You waited until the Riddler attacked to go for this safe. You got past the cameras without setting off the alarm. You tipped off the police of where you'd be- on the other side of town."

Eel tried to reach for the detonator on the bomb. If he could just- "You flatter me, Batman really, but I-"

"We could use a man like that on our side, O'brian." Batman said. "A smart man like you could do some real good in the world."

Eel laughed. That was the most wrong thing he'd ever heard. He laughed but it wasn't funny.

He pressed the button and the bomb started counting down from 10.

"I don't think so, Bats. I'm not the hero type." Eel said, and then tried to make a run for it. Batman caught him by the collar.

"It's not about types. There's good in you."

"I really wish I could stay and chat, but I gotta split." Eel said, slipping his arms out of his coat and breaking into a mad sprint.

The bomb let out a single shrieking beep before it detonated. 

Eel didn't turn back to see what happened to Batman.

~~~

A deal went wrong. Unsurprising. They broke his leg. Unsurprising. He was alive. Surprising! Unfortunately, he was still very much crippled and bleeding out from somewhere. 

He limped along the sidewalk at night, always a dumb thing to do. His vision was either going or the lighting in this city was getting worse by the moment. Given that he lived in Gotham, it was likely both.

He limped into a grassy part of the city- a park of some sort. He'd get caught soon. Or maybe he'd bleed out and die. He couldn't manifest the energy to care either way.

He flopped down onto the grass, for lack of any other bright ideas. He couldn't see the stars through the cloud cover. Tragic. 

"Hey." A commanding voice called. He looked around until he spotted a scantily-clad woman. She was green and wearing leaves and had bright red hair and was looking at him like he was a pile of dead slugs.

Oh. Oh crap. Oh crap that's Poison Ivy.

Eel tried to shrink into the ground.

"Hiiiii Poison Ivy, how's the weather?" He asked. He tried to smile charmingly but it was most likely very strained and bloody.

"Why are you bleeding on my flowers?" She asked, a single brow raised.

"Haa, would you believe that blood makes a great fertilizer?" Eel said.

"It does." She said.

"Uh," Eel had lost too much blood for him to come up with a witty remark.

"Please don't kill me." He said.

"Greater men than you have begged for mercy. What makes you better?" She asked, head cocked.

"I can, uh," Eel panicked, "I can give you my grandma's recipe for caramel coffee." 

Poison Ivy's other eyebrow raised. 

They looked at each other for a moment.

Then, a shrill voice called from across the park.

"Ivy! Come on!! What are you even doing?!" 

Eel was fairly certain he was hallucinating now. Blood loss and all that. Because Harley Quinn, wearing a football jersey and sweatpants, came running up to stand besides Poison Ivy.

"We're going to miss the game," Harley pouted, then took notice of Eel, "Who's that mess?"

"Someone who can make caramel coffee, apparently." Poison Ivy said, bemused.

"I like caramel." Harley said.

Poison Ivy shrugged, "We can keep him if you want."

"I also like coffee..." Harley tapped her chin in consideration, "Yeah we'll take him. Come on, Ivy!"

~~~

That was how he ended up getting high with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. His leg was propped up on a table, a bong was being passed around, the apparent football game played on the TV in front of them. They were in a greenhouse and the city’s lights shone through the glass almost magically. This was probably not what someone suffering from blood loss should be doing. Eel almost considered making a break for it. 

But Poison Ivy was the Weed Queen of Gotham, and getting this stuff free? Too good to pass up.

Harely had seemingly forgotten about the promised coffee, but since they hadn’t killed him yet and gave him weed, Eel decided he'd write the recipe down for them before he left.

"I don't get why capes dress the way they do," Harely said, "I mean, rogues have the same problem but like, it's more noticeable with the heroes, y'know?"

"Like, the boob windows?" Ivy asked. Harley nodded enthusiastically. 

"Yeah, yeah! The boob windows." Harely said, "Why do all the guys wear kevlar and body armor and the girls got to show off their tits?"

"Maybe the dudes should show off their tits too." Eel said. 

Poison Ivy laughed and Harely nodded even more enthusiastically.

"Yeah! This guy gets it!" 

"See, if I were to go running around in spandex-" Eel gestured to his very much not spandex coated body, "I'd show off my cleavage all the time." 

"Men don't have cleavage," Ivy pointed out.

"Not with that attitude they don't." Harley said, "Say, Eel, if you ever get tits, come over so we can prove Ivy wrong."

Eel cackled, "Sure thing! And if I ever start wearing spandex as a hobby I'll make sure the V-neck plunges all the way down."

"You'd better!" 

Ivy laughed and Eel was handed the bong again.

~~~

Eel wasn't even doing anything. He was in his apartment, minding his own business. Well actually he was trying to sleep but that wasn't going so well.

Then there was a tapping on his window. Feeling a sudden wash of deja-vu, Eel turned around. There was an otherworldly, haunting green glow coming from his window. 

Pausing, and exercising a healthy amount of caution, walked over to the window.

A UFO hovered outside his window. A tiny one.

Eel rubbed his eyes.

The UFO bonked against the glass, seemingly wanting inside.

"uh," Eel said. Against every ounce of common sense, he opened the window. 

The UFO flew inside his room, casting its light oddly through his home. There was a mechanical whir, and suddenly a robotic arm sprung out from the bottom of the ship.

"Uh," Eel said, regretting everything immediately.

The UFO then grabbed Eel by his good ankle, his other leg still in a cast for a few more weeks. He lost balance and hit his head on the floor. The small ship lifted him off the floor by his ankle, and then dragged him out the window. He tried to claw at the windowsill but the ship was too fast.

"UH,"

He dangled dangerously over what was at least a thirty foot drop. The UFO paid no mind to his panicked flailing, and instead began to go higher.

"OH GOD."

~~~

The small UFO took him to a bigger UFO, of course.

A small hole opened in the underside of the ship, and Eel was brought inside. The inside of an alien spaceship looked nearly identical to its outside, apparently. Weird and green.

The smaller ship finally dropped him off in a large circular room. He was set down gently on his back, but he still hissed in surprise. The metal floor was freezing and he was only in his shorts.

"Uh oh uh oh uh oh..." He muttered.

"Hello, human!" A cheery, buzzing voice greeted. 

Eel looked around frantically and finally spotted a small, glowing blue light.

"Uh, hi?" He said to the light. The blue light bobbed up and down- excitedly?

"Human!" It said, "We are the-"

It said something that sounded eldritch to his human ears.

"-and we saw your performance!"

He blinked.

"...my what."

"On February 7th, approximately 11 months ago, you performed in the musical "The Grey Ghost Strikes Back!"." The light said. Several other colorful lights manifested around him.

"...uh huh."

"If you are wondering why you did not see us, the-" [REDACTED] "-in the crowd on the date of your performance, it is because we were not there."

"Ooohh kayyyy...."

"Batman recorded it and sent us a copy!"

Eel blinked. They were speaking alienese, he was certain of it.

"He also sent along with it 307 other forms of human entertainment as a welcome package to Earth!" It said, "And we must say, we really enjoyed your performance."

A red light, hovering just a little lower than the blue one, perked up.

"We especially enjoyed your performance in the third act, and would like to compliment your singing skills." The red light said.

"Thank you?" Eel said.

"If it is not too much trouble, human, we would like what is most commonly known to you as an 'autograph'." The blue light said.

"...alright." 

~~~

The night started off odd, he'd admit it. But it wasn't bad. He signed some stuff. He didn't know what the things he signed were or what exactly he wrote with, but it hardly mattered. They asked him to sing a song from the musical- he did- and they somehow applauded him.

They gave him alien food, and he'd be damned if he didn't accept free food. Even if it was probably radioactive. It tasted like cotton candy. Again, not bad.

They told him a bit about their situation. Their home- somewhere on a different plane of existence- exploded. They were the last of their kind. Batman approached them, because he could do that apparently, and offered them a place on Earth.

"Our culture is based on entertainment. Each piece of what you call 'media' is like a fine work of art to us." They said. 

"Oh, cool. So do you kidnap actors you like in other stuff?" Eel asked, trying to figure out the best way to consume the slime on a stick he'd been given. He decided there was no proper way to do that so he just decided to slurp it off.

"We would like to meet the actors and actresses in other media, but they usually just scream the whole time they are here. We gain the impression that they do not appreciate our hospitality." They said.

Eel shrugged, "I can't imagine why. You guys are great."

"You have taken this whole experience very well, comparatively."

"I mean- I'm a bit desensitized to weirdness." Eel said.

"Is this experience considered 'weird' to other humans?" They asked.

"Nah." Eel said, waving off their concern, and set his slime stick down, "Hey, I'd like to get home now. This has been fun and all, but it's kinda cold in here."

"Of course, human. We wish you fame and fortune for your future."

"Uh, you too?"

They dropped him off on the roof of his apartment building. The sun was beginning to rise. He made his way down the stairs, nearly naked and his leg still in a cast. He slept okay.

~~~

Eel was known for many things. He knew most, if not all, of those things were bad. Hell, all of the things he was known for would be bad to the common man. But to the common crook? Only most of those things would be considered bad.

Some of the things he was known for made him desirable. 

He was a safecracker, he never got caught, he could make a good plan and stick to it. He was good at his job.

But Eel was not... valuable, per-say. He was a tool in most people's eyes. Something to be discarded when the job was done.

Eel knew this. Made his peace with it. He knew when he took this job that the guys he was working with didn't give two shits about him. But he needed their muscle for the security guards, and they needed his skill to crack the safe. They all needed the cash.

They walked into this big facility during a storm. Mr. Freeze was causing havoc in city hall again. The outer parts of the city didn't get the blizzard- they got the freezing rain.

The security guard appeared- he had a gun and he was willing to use it. If the folks he was working with were smart, which they weren't, they would have ran. Don't shoot back, don't have murder put onto your sentence along with theft and arson and everything else. 

But they were stupid, and they shot blindly, and the guard shot Eel in the shoulder. And the bullet tore through his shoulder and into a container of something-

Another shot rang out, the guard fell.

There was a crack and suddenly Eel was soaked in something- it was bright and hot and it burned like the embers of Hell. He screamed, of course.

The people he was working with, his 'pals', stared at him for just a second.

"Eel-!"

"Eel doesn't have the cash, now run!"

Eel got up, and gave chase. His steps faltered and his vision swam.

He made it outside just in time to see them get into the car and book it.

"Adios, Eel!" 

"You putrid punks!" He yelled, his hand clutching his shoulder. Everything burned. Everything throbbed. His pulse beat in his ears, the rain came down like knives, and the bullet hole poured blood like a faucet. But it was oddly thick- was it? The world kept wanting to wobble and spin.

The- the police. They'd be here soon. Maybe. Eventually. He needed to go.

He walked. 

Down the street, down an alley, then another, then another, until the buildings began to spread out and trees and grass began to coat the land.

The rain was softer here. Warmer too. He climbed a shallow hill. Like climbing a mountain. His heart slammed the inside of his skull like a drum. There was a tree on the hill, its branches bare.

He collapsed beneath it.

He didn't have time to see if he could spot any stars before it all went black.

~~~

Eel's life had always, always been strange.

But it apparently that was just the beginning.

[owo--bot]

Loyal as a Dog // Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader

Chapter 16-17

wc: 2.5k

Tags: slowburn (the literal slowest), friends to lovers, coming of age, hurt & comfort, fluff, light and dark themes, plot heavy

TW // codependency, they're both semi toxic, underage drinking, obsessive behavior, untreated mental health issues,

Chapter Sixteen: Until My Fingers Decay

I’ll hold your hand until my fingers decay.

I neglect the things that hurt,

Love is all that remains.

I've been clean all my life; 

I don't remember yesterday.

 -

 How many years do we get to live? It's different for everyone, huh? I think all of them should matter, and I think all should be great. That's also why closing a year is just as important. 

Every New Year's Eve should be memorable, or maybe not. Alcohol has that effect on people. 

Time was slipping by, hours dwindling into the new year already but the exact hour was up in the air. In consideration to the time police a rough estimate would be:

Late. 

Any sane person could be found spending time with their families and eating good food, come the morning they’d watch the sun rise and pay respects to their local shrine. Textbook definition of a happy and fun New Year. Your family was navigating off of a blank sheet of paper. 

The moon was picturesque, staring down at the playground dressed in white. 

The night was spent drinking enough beer to get this thing Sanzu referred to as a 'buzz'. It's that; I wouldn’t normally laugh at that. Warm and cozy. Was my balance always this bad? I’m talking way too much. 1-up confidence boost. God I feel good—

—sort of feeling. 

Laughs escaped your lips breaking into the air through icy breaths. Snow crunched beneath your back, it should’ve felt cold but to the duo who were one rent check short of becoming hobos. 

They were immune. 

Despite the cheerful demeanor the two basked in, the topic at hand was quite the serious matter. 

“C'mon Mr. Sanzu, just one cat. Please ." 

If it were a battle of begging you would have won hours ago. Unfortunately thus is not the way of the world. 

“That’ll go well. How about learning how to take care of yourself first.” 

“No way, ya gotta take care of me forever Boss. It’s in the contract.” 

“S’that so? I might have to rip it up then.” 

“Ya can’t. I hid it.” 

“In your head? You sure it’s safe there?” 

Luckily for you it's impossible to destroy something that never existed in the first place. Made up on the spot, this one sided mental contract was immune from any havoc from the psychical world. 

Confidence scaling in the thousands you responded, "yup, I tucked it away so as long as ya can't read minds-”

Slicing into the thousand scale confidence your assertion was cut short as Sanzu interfered with an unsettling question:

“Want to know a secret?”

“Mr. Sanzu, don’t say ya can read minds,” you laughed nervously. 

“So you knew already?” he responded flatly. 

Sitting up you began blubbering out, “this is bad, like—bad, bad,” ruffling your fingers through your hair, this was a nightmare. 

Watching you steadily unfold, the audience of one seemed to be enjoying the show as a chuckle fell from his lips. 

“Hiding something from me?” he smiled in amusement.

“No it's just—some thoughts should stay in my head, ya'know?" weeping internally, the stress in your tone was evident, "please don't read my thoughts, I'm begging ya." 

"Relax, I was joking." 

Dismissing your meltdown Sanzu sat up, brushing off excess flakes from his attire. 

"Oh," you answered blankly. 

The poorly improvised bed crunched beneath your roommate's feet as he stood up. Rubbing his eyes the groggy blonde trailed away.

"Whaddya doin'?" you asked, following his lead.

"M'trying not to fall asleep," he slurred sitting down on a neighboring bench. 

"Okey-dokey, should we go home?" 

Leaning back Sanzu stared into the depth of a winter sky, light pollution held out on the vastness of stars it had to offer. 

Blonde lashes fluttered as he answered, "we only came here because you wanted to watch the sun rise." 

You nodded, "that's what everyone does on New Year right?" 

"We don't have to do what everyone else does." Catching his gaze as your expression lost its vibrance he added, "it's fine if you want to." 

Your lip trembled, battling to express passion fueled words, "you're seriously the best Mr. Sanzu," 

"If you start crying we're leaving," he threatened.

"Got it," you sniffed, banning the creeping existence of joyous tears.

The flickering of a vending machine shed light onto the trail of footprints as you accompanied your bench dwelling roommate. The world felt empty at this hour, the only bystander being the passing wind. 

"Are you happy?" Sanzu asked, his head bobbed forward in a fight against drowsiness. 

"The happiest," you grinned, " are you happy?" 

Sanzu hummed in response, " M'gonna lay down. Wake me up in a few minutes." 

Sanzu's body gave in slumping to the side, his head plopped down onto your lap. Face flushed with booze, the slow rise and fall of his chest was paired with heavy breaths. 

You felt a certain stillness, the feeling that if you moved this would just become a memory. 

This was all you needed,

This was all you wanted,

Just the two of you like this forever,

That would make you the happiest. 

Your heart felt the warmest with him, you hoped his did too. A cozy thought, a cozy feeling, and it was all yours. 

-

Consciousness pulled at you in the shape of a firm grip on your arm. Raising your head, the backrest of a bench was no substitute for a pillow and the pain stabbing at your neck was proof. 

Familiar blue eyes were glassy as they peered into you.

“What happened to waking me up?” 

What happened… well for starters he was waking you up. 

“Sorry Boss,” you yawned, “I messed up.” 

The weather was rigid, the discomfort of shaking had you in it’s clutches. Pale blue mixed with peach foreshadowed the ever approaching sun, the first sun of the year. 

“Feel like complete shit,” Sanzu mumbled slouching forward, face buried within his hands.

“Nice to meet ya New Year, we’re complete cold shit." 

Whether or not the sun acknowledged you wasn’t a concern. You were happy you were here, freezing, hungover and sleep deprived, it was well worth the fever that’d come later.

Here’s to another year of happy memories;

With you, with me, with everyone.

-

Chapter Seventeen: Until it Gets Quiet

I wish it was quiet,

Until it gets loud.

I measure grass, 

It's not allowed to grow.

I listen to crickets,

They tell me to dance. 

I like playing games, 

Avoid the creaks or you might crack.

I get sick, 

Until I get better.  

I ask fish, 

How they breathe. 

I can't sing, 

Listening is better. 

I read without words, 

Those stories are strange.

I wish it was loud,

Until it gets quiet.

 -

 Trash cans clattering against cement is a tune that breeds curiosity. Sneaking a peek behind the convenience store, your curiosity is quenched.

Two boys roughin' it out—no wait, not quite. 

One's bent over on the ground, his arms worked to shield his head against relentless stomping and kicking. 

Stuck in a loop, one groveled while the other beat him shitless. 

The entire sight was pathetic. 

It wasn’t your place to help. 

Sike . 

Acting with no regards to thinking, you were a creature immune to change. 

What makes this convenience store so convenient isn’t the products it holds within. No, it’s the aid its walls served against this nobodys face. It’s the cement that cushioned his fall. It’s the space it offered, allowing you to be just as merciless as him. Lastly, it’s the view it gave of the nobody in question scurrying off and clinging to an excuse like I don’t hit girls .

This convenience store held true to its name. 

For the second nobody on the list—

"Are… are you sure you're okay? There's blood." asked the bruised banana of a boy.

"Positive," you grinned, shooting him a thumbs up, "it's not mine." 

"Why did you help me?" 

"Hmm… ya'know when ya see something weaker than you being stepped on?”

Wide eyed and crumbling, the boy's shoulders hung in disappointment. His spirit shattered long before you spoke but now a gust of wind was more than enough to blow him away. 

“So, pity?” 

“Dunno, it was just real sad to watch,” you shrugged dismissively, “so why’d ya get beat up?” 

“I wouldn’t give him my paycheck and-” 

“Stop!” hands raised, they acted as defence against meaningless backstory. “I don’t care about motives. I’m asking why ya laid there like a worm.”

“Well that’s…” rubbing his neck he looked at anything other than you, "I couldn't do anything else." 

slamming a fist down into your palm, you reached an enlightened state of being.

"I got it—you're a worm in a human suit."

No matter how solid your discovery, it's yet to be globally accepted. Unfond of such theories, the worm pulled off a flawless imitation of what distress looks like.

"Just kidding ♡," you chimed. "I know you're a person." 

Set free from worm accusations, he adopted nervous laughter as a coping mechanism. 

"But you're still a worm," you stated. 

"I'm not a worm, I just don't like violence."  

"Well, maybe you should start." 

Inducing hostility into a worm, your eyes lit up grasping the threads of enlightenment once more. 

Robbed of his ability to respond, a jumble of incoherent words failed to replicate a reply. Shutting up the letter simulator, you offered him a chummy slap on the back.

"Kidding again ♡." 

"Oh." 

"But seriously—

—consider it." 

With your personality vaguely fleshed out the boy smiled at your words, certain you were joking this time. Certain that violence was the answer to his dilemma, you silently chalked this one up as a joke. 

Staring at the nametag on his shirt you asked.

"Do ya work here?" 

He nodded, "I'm one of the cashier's." 

"Pfft—" you attempted to contain a build up of laughter, latched onto the reality he received a shakedown of a beatdown at the backdoor of his workplace. 

"I know. It's pathetic-" 

"Hey," your eyes sparkled with corrupt intent, "how about an exchange of services?" 

He nodded, "sounds fair but—I'm kind of broke now." 

"Bummer," you sighed.

"Wait, I should be getting paid again soon, so anything you want, it'll be on me," slipping a phone out of his pocket he continued, "if you give me your contact information I-" 

Familiar arms draped around your shoulders, working as an immediate tranquilizer for you and the certified worm. 

"Didn't I tell you to wait out front?" blonde strands kissed your ear as Sanzu loomed over your shoulder.

Your roommate was too powerful. He's a force that two lesser beings stood no chance against, diminishing them into a flustered silence. 

Concealing the color spreading to his cheeks the cashier bowed slightly.

"Sorry, that was my fault. I-" 

Disregarding the other lifeform, Sanzu had more important things in mind; leaving. 

"C'mon."

Sanzu pulled your hand along with him, leaving your 'anything you want' ticket behind. 

"Hey um, Boss," you gulped, "is everything okay?" 

Hand in hand you walked a few steps behind, passing by rows of excessively advertised shops and eateries. 

"Why wouldn't it?" 

"It's just… ya'know—" your words trailed off.

"No, I don't know," 

Demeanor short, he played a trapping game of cluelessness. Is this considered psychological warfare? Taking a deep breath in you verbalized the abnormal phenomenon at hand. 

"You normally get super mad when I'm being clingy." 

Wars aren't meant to be won. 

Swift to abandon your hand he continued to walk as you were left feeling empty.

"Wait, no—I take it back." 

Blue eyes resemble death—your death, a successful deterrent when you don't want to be touched. Warm weather put winter out of its misery, with it went your excuse of 'it's cold outside'. Winter was cruel but Spring might be cruelest, the seasonal excuse for holding hands is at an end. Today was an abnormality but the fault of demise was your own. 

"The way he was looking at you." 

"The way he was looking at me?" 

"It was obnoxious." 

You still didn't get it but if Sanzu said it was obnoxious then by the rules of the world it was obnoxious. 

"So if people look at me obnoxiously, you'll hold my hand?" 

Silence being the answer, you dropped the obnoxious ammo you were loading. 

"Boo, I've been denied." 

Internal mourning aside, you went on to explain the series of events that took place at the convenience store. Amidst your storytelling session it caught your eye.

A poster hung on for dear life as it flapped away on the exterior of a passing shop. It's dreadfully plain. A black base and white lettering, it looked handmade; 

But

That word, 

It stuck out. 

You knew it. 

Atone.

This feels—

—disgusting.

Someone's hand wrapped around the back of your neck—wait no. It's just,

A presence.

No one's there. 

Your shoulders tensed without permission. 

Your mouth felt dry. 

Why…? 

"Sounds pathetic," Sanzu paused, not missing a beat, "what?" 

Looking to you for an answer, words fumbled out, not the way you wanted.

"I'm not… Sanzu, something's not right this isn't…" 

It wasn't working. Again—your body wasn't working right. Why is it doing this? It's yours right? So why isn't it working like it should? 

Detour readily accessible, Sanzu deemed a back alley suitable for whatever the hell's going on.

Corners of his eyes crinkled as he offered you a smile, "everything's fine, yeah?" 

No. 

Quelling your nerves being the sole objective, skin around your nails fell victim to your discomfort. Clattering thoughts felt like a survival simulation as you clawed for a meaning.

"Atone—what is that?" 

Sanzu's expression dropped upon hearing that word, taking a moment before he could respond.

"It's bad, I can feel it. Why is this—" 

"Hey," Sanzu's hands found themselves to your shoulders as dull eyes gazed into you, "that was the name of the movie you watched last night." 

…. 

"Oh..." you offered half of a smile, "my bad." 

"Dumbass," backing off, his soft expression dead and buried, "stop watching that shit before bed." 

Scary loses its tack when the budget consists of joint lunch money, so it's no surprise you forgot the name. Closure aided your heart rate in decelerating; 

Crisis subdued. 

Picking up the coping skill of a certain worm, you delivered a nervous chitter that resembled a laugh. 

"I'm sorta embarrassed now." 

"Yeah? You should be." 

Though a mask concealed key features, his eyebrows were a dead giveaway of the sunken frown reaching depths of an abyss.

"But… are ya sure that's it?"

Stimulation levels were in the negatives last night, fear nonexistent. But that —that was suffocating.

"Hm?" his head cocked to the side as he asked a question you despised, "you don't trust me?"  

"I trust ya more than anyone in the world." 

Short and absolute, your words hold the weight of all that exists. An unquestionable truth carved into your being. 

"Then why are you questioning it?"

It was rare for a movie to scare you like that but it really—

—didn't. 

"My bad—again." 

"As long as you know," He huffed. A clash between harsh and soothing he offered initiative, "let's go, you can pick something out at one of the stores." 

Today's affairs were tucked away. A future that's oh-so bright is in clear view beside the one you love most.

[simpingforsoftboys]

Ways They Say “Ily” W/out Actually Saying It

Ft. Iwaoi and UshiTenSemi 

!G/N reader!

So this will definitely be a series! Next up is BokuAka and Kuroken followed by SakuAtsu and SunaOsaKita.

Iwaoi

Hajime always has a supply of yours and Toru’s favorite snacks/foods on hand at any given moment

He knows how much of a hassle it can be to have to purchase your fav. “pick me up” snacks on a bad day- so he takes restocking very seriously

Speaking of food

Every once in a while he’ll make your favorite meal for dinner- just because he has the extra time, he claims- but in actuality making you your favorite food makes him feel closer to you

He’ll also do your laundry and put it away too! As well as perfectly iron your work uniforms and/or dress outfits

He’ll even wash your guy’s shoes and polish them too, but not say anything about it 

If ya’ll don’t thank him, he won’t be sad, but he wants to at least hear that you noticed!

Toru is an Olympic athlete and you’re their lovely s/o- he’ll be damned if you two look anything less than like a model off a magazine

One last thing is how he lets you two cuddle up to him in the morning- after his second alarm has rung- and during his morning run time

It’s the way that he holds you two close and steady in his strong arms, letting you hear the thrum of his heartbeat and/or his calm breathing

Hajime won’t show his love verbally, most of the time it’s shown through little acts of service/skin ship

He’s a quiet but domestic sort of lover

Toru is... pretty lazy in terms of household chores

He’s not really one to care too much about mundane things

His love needs to be shown in big, extravagant ways

Like he’s the type to take you to the beach in summer, just to rent a gigantic lounge float- the type that’s main use is for day drinking- instead of taking you to a bar

Yes it’s relaxing but at this point why not just go to the local pub or something? It’d be cheaper- oh right because he needs to show Instagram that he’s an exceptional lover *cue eyeroll*

Nah, it’s actually because he wants to give you the best of both worlds- that of comfortable luxury and drunkenly passionate intimacy

Sometimes it annoys you and Hajime with how open he is with his love life on social media

But I promise it’s only because he loves you two so much and feels the constant need to brag about you

He does show it in smaller ways too

Like by holding the door open for you two, carrying your bags when shopping and paying for your purchases before you get the chance to even try

He’ll also take note of you and Haji’s current interests and occasionally buy you something *really* nice that he thinks you’ll love

He’s an open guy, but for you two he’ll willing indulge in the quiet moments of life

It’s okay if the rest of the world doesn’t see these moments- the ones where it’s just you three- like when you’re all in a bubble bath sipping that expensive champagne that costs way too much- and enjoying the way the tubs jets massage your back muscles. 

Or when it’s 3 in the morning and he wakes up feeling hot and sweaty, only to find himself trapped between the loves of his life- and not having the heart to wake you up

Not even when Hajime drools on his shoulder, or when your hair tickles him through his shirt

Toru is loud and outspoken but it’s his quiet moments that really show his love for ya’ll

UshiTenSemi

Wakatoshi doesn’t really perceive things like most people

This includes romantic actions

He’ll do something if he feels it needs to be done- not out of love, but because it’s the most logical thing to do- and you three know that

I think his unspoken way of telling you he loves you is when he goes out of his way- logic be damned- to do something specific

Like that one time you wanted to buy the newest gaming console but all the pre orders were sold out, making the only way for you to get one “first come first serve”

This man decided that for you, it was okay if he didn’t follow his routine to a ‘t’

He said goodbye to his sleep schedule and awoke at 2:25 in the morning to make his way to the nearest Yamada Denki to stand in the freezing cold for nearly 6+ hours until the store opened.

He beat majority of the crowd and got you your console, even though he was 51,896 yen poorer, and his sleep schedule would take the rest of the week to get back on track, he decided it was all worth it to see that wide smile on your face

When he’s home he’ll wash some fruits and veggies for you guys and serve them to you on little snack trays to curb your appetite until the next meal 

Speaking of food- he definitely cooks a light breakfast for ya’ll before he leaves for morning practice

Husband material right here-

Toshi’s love is like gravity in a way

There’s set laws of nature that applies to it- unquestionable and unchanging; something you’re perfectly understanding of- but the slightest change of it is so noticeable that it leaves you in a state of surprise, making you appreciate all that he had done before in a new light, and looking forward to seeing more of it during your daily life.

Satori is a sap and for what-

Like he’ll make all of you delicious little chocolate treats (but Wakatoshi’s is made differently so that it’s more healthy... because he’s an athlete and needs to watch his diet)

On that same note Eita can’t have much chocolate either... since it’s actually able to cause phlegm... oh well more for you I guess

When you oversleep he wakes you up by digging his long, w i g g l y fingers into your sides and TICKLES you

It’s a really nice way to wake up actually- laughing your sleepiness away

He loves seeing your laughter induced teary eyed gaze and wide smile in the morning- it fills him with more energy than a triple mocha frappe.

Something else he likes to do is have you lie on top of him and trail his fingers up and down your face

I mean this guy probably has A L L of your facial features memorized- but he really just likes to look at you- and see you gazing back

That last one is something only you and him do- Eita gets too flustered if Satori even tries, and Ushijima would just... kinda smile oddly, stare, and lay really still? Yeah as much as he loves your awkward miracle boy- it’s not as fun when he’s still as a statue and not relaxed

When he’s not being cute, Satori is dragging you three into his random adventures

Like it could be literally 1 am and he is up and raring to go to the beach

Ofc he won’t force anyone to come with him- but it’s not quite as fun without someone accompanying him

Occasionally he can convince Toshi and Eita to join- but for the most part it’s just you and him

Ya’ll always have a blast and make a bunch of fun memories

Did I mention that he comes to you first before your other two partners when he wants to go adventuring? Because he does-

Sometimes you go to watch the sunrise in his car but binge watch anime while waiting for the sunrise

He’s a spontaneous, fun lover- and he has the most fun when it’s with you

Eita is... surprisingly romantic too?

Like damn he writes love songs about your foursome RELIGIOUSLY

Hell over the course of your 5 or so years together he has written nearly 7 full albums dedicated to ya’ll-

Guess you’re an inspiration or smth

Even if you can’t sing WHATSOEVER this mans rose colored glasses effects are so prominent that he could listen to you for hours on end

No but seriously he is so obsessed with everyones voices (not that he’ll say it but like it’s obvious at this point)

I mean ya’lls vocal ranges are just so different!

Obvi Toshi has a bass voice, Satori has more of a baritone one (though he really does try to pass off as a tenor for some reason)- and then there’s you- it’s so interesting to him to hear you guys talk to each other (and sing-) because of how your voices overlap

He’s the type to buy you roses whenever he’s feeling extra appreciative and maybe a new set of lingerie or some silk night wear

I don’t know why but despite his extensive collection of leather EVERYTHING, he really enjoys seeing you in expensive, clothing

And then he won’t shut up about how attractive you are XD

Oh but he’ll also buy all four of you matching silk robes too so you can be comfy together

But don’t be posting about it on social media or anything- these are for your eyes ONLY! No one else should get to see his partners like this but him

Don’t even get me started about date nights

Because he’s insisting that everyone wear something of his

Dude you only have leather clothing wdym-

Unfortunately there’s a slight issue since everyone’s different sizes so he does the next best thing

He commissions custom made leather jackets for ya’ll

They have your initials and everything

Black leather with white and lavender print- reminiscent of Shiratorizawa days long passed

Eita appreciates all of you in his own cute ways, and loves seeing little bits of him on you because it makes him feel connected to you even more