#why did I think of those little things on a potato

[noistanaccount]

Ryoko Kui Does Not Believe in Epiphanies (or: why Marcille and Mithrun's endings are great actually)

I have seen a couple of people who are upset about the way that Mithrun and Marcille's stories were resolved so I'm writing this to clear some things up. Ryoko Kui does not believe in epiphanies. An epiphany is a sudden and usually brief realization, an "aha" moment. Epiphanies are emotionally powerful moments. Both Marcille and Mithrun have powerful moments of realization, epiphanies.

Whether or not you like these resolutions, there's something you need to understand, Ryoko Kui does not put that much stock into these moments. Immediately after Marcille has her realization, Tansu responds like this:

While this is mostly his own opinion, what he is pointing out is that epiphanies are brief, they are singular moments that do not define a life. Life is long, and epiphanies do not sustain you. Marcille might feel like this now, but what about tomorrow? what about nex year? ten years, a hundred years, five hundred years from now? How often have you felt a sudden understanding? a burst of inspiration, or perhaps a realization that everything is pointless? It generally passes quickly, and you make dinner, and go to bed.

Think about the best meal you have ever had, it was probably a special occasion, maybe it felt like something magical, in the moment you might have felt like your life was changed. Then, in the morning you were hungry, so you ate breakfast. You cooked, you did the dishes, you went on with your life. What "meaning" did that meal have if you were hungry again the next day? Mithrun has to rebuild everything, every day he has to come up with new desires to do the very basics. None of it comes naturally, he has to find a reason to eat beyond being hungry, a reason to want to do anything when he doesn't want anything. Ryoko Kui tells us outright, that there is no magical solution:

The same thing applies to Ryoko Kui's representation of racism in dungeon meshi. Around when the orcs appeared in the anime I saw people gripeing about the way racism is treated. They seemed to think that Laios's party having dinner with the orcs was presented as them "solving" racism. Once again people misunderstand, they did not solve racism in a single moment. A few people, understood each other a little better, came to an arrangement and then parted. This was merely a moment in their lives. The characters continue to do micro-agressions, hold stereotypes, and have implicit biases. In dungeon meshi, characters don't suddenly stop being racist in the course of an evening. Life is a process, learning about others is a process, it's about the accumulation of experiences through the meat and potatoes of life, the daily activities that we actually fill our lives with, not the sudden realizations. Once you make learning about and living with other people into part of your routine, once it is embodied, then it is part of your life.

This is the real conclusion: life is not lived in a state of epiphany. Life is about chores, cooking, eating, shitting, working, and sleeping, it's everyday. Life is about doing simple things and doing them well. An epiphany is a useful tool for telling the reader that everything is going to be alright, we love to read epiphanies and be swept up in them. They can also be a breaking of a pattern, an escape from a spiral.

This is the other take away, it's about the people you do those things with, the way they rub off on you, the way they help you be human. For Mithrun and Marcille their paths would be impossible without other people pushing them back on the path as they stray. Mithrun literally would starve to death except for the thought that kabru and others don't want him to. Eating is a communal activity, so is living, you can have an epiphany on your own; you can't live on your own.

[amandacanwrite]

I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.

In Battle

He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.

Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?

You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.

When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.

He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.

He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.

In Camp

He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.

“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“

Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.

He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.

“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”

When You’re Alone

It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.

“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”

He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.

Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.

You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.

In Intimate Moments

(Potential NSFW below.)

Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.

“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”

Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.

Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.

“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”

His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.

Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.

You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.

“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”

He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.

Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.

So many cuddles after you’re done.

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: Cerberus...

Cerberus: *crying and whining because MC made contact with another dog (Frost)*

MC: Cerberus, please don't cry... You're still my baby.

Cerberus: *bares his teeth* *growling a little*

MC: ...

MC: Pft— Just let me hug you, you big baby.

Ace and Deuce: *looking at Grim*

Ace: Uh, MC? I think Grim is sulking too. *mischievous grin*

Grim: What? No, I'm not!

Satan: *holding Grim* You know, whenever you're feeling jealous, you only need to remember that MC loves you and everyone else in the family.

Grim: Mryah! I said I am not sulking!

Deuce: So, has Frost already left?

MC: Ah, yes. *petting Cerberus* He will only show up if I summon him.

Lucifer: That's good to know. Since I dislike the idea of him being with you 24/7.

Simeon: *chuckles* MC, you should've seen Lucifer when he was whining too.

Lucifer: *frowns*

Diavolo: *laughs* Come on, Lucifer! No need to deny it!

Lucifer: *frowns even more*

MC: Luci...

Lucifer: What?

MC: *smiles* Do you want to go on a date?

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Just the two of us?

MC: Yes.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: I will check my schedule.

Satan: You have literally not done anything since we arrived in this world.

Satan: Schedule my ass.

Lucifer: I still need to look after you, you little shits.

Diavolo and Simeon: *laughing*

Ace and Deuce: Oh boy...

Cater: Guys~ Guess who I saw on a date yesterday~.

Riddle: Who is it?

Cater: *shows them the picture of Lucifer and MC kissing on a balcony*

Riddle and Trey: ...

Riddle: Cater, that is invasion of privacy.

Cater: Nah~ They saw me and invited me over to eat some snacks. I don't think they mind.

Trey: But still, don't show that to other students.

Trey: Especially Malleus.

Cater: ...

Cater: I might've already shown it to Lilia-chan...

Riddle and Trey: ...

Trey: I guess you can handle the consequences.

Cater: Don't be like that, Trey-kun!

Lucifer: What are you glaring at, Malleus?

Malleus: I am not glaring.

Lilia: *chuckles* He's just a little jealous.

Lilia: I had to remind him that it would be natural for you and the others to be intimate with MC because of the relationship you have with them.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: *smirks* Well, it's natural for you to be jealous, Malleus.

Lucifer: As you will never know the taste of their lips or feel their passionate gaze.

Malleus: *glaring intensifies*

Lilia: ...

Lilia: I've been noticing it for a while, but why are you singling him out?!

Vil: Potato! Are those hickeys?!

MC: ...

MC: Vil, you startled me. *just woke up and went downstairs to go to the kitchen*

Asmo: Ooh~ Darling~ Did you enjoy your time with Lucifer~?

Vil: ...

Vil: Right. I forgot that you are married, Potato.

MC: Haha, no. It's fine.

Asmo: Didn't he go easy on you, darling? Your legs are trembling a little.

Vil: ...

MC: Asmo, babe. I will appreciate it if you stop pointing things out.

Asmo: Awwwww~ I'm just admiring your beauty~ There is nothing wrong with that~. *chuckles*

Asmo: Here, let me give you some aftercare~.

Vil: ...

Vil: I will be going back to my dorm.

Vil: And inform the teachers that you won't be teaching today.

MC: Thanks, Vil. *yawns*

Vil: ...

Vil: On the other hand, I think I will be staying here with you after informing the teachers.

Vil: I don't trust Asmodeus to be alone with you.

Asmo: Ha! In case you have forgotten, dear. *shows him his wedding ring*

Asmo: I'm married with them too!

MC: ...

MC: Barb.

Barbatos: *appears next to them* *smiling*

Barbatos: MC needs some rest, gentlemen.

Barbatos: I recommend taking this altercation outside.

Asmo and Vil: ...

[rainybubbles]

How do you meet COD Men ? - AU civilian

Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, König, Rudy, Alex, Nikolai

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written, mid or if they're OOC)

SOAP as a firefighter : 

-"911, how can I assist you today?"

-"I think there's been a break-in at my place!"

-"Could you describe the intruder, ma'am?"

-"It's... a turkey."

-"A turkey?"

-"Yeah, one of those gobbling birds! My neighbors use a live one for their Thanksgiving, and it somehow busted loose. It barged into my place through the door, gave me a real fright. I dashed into my bathroom, but it went all 'Rambo' on my door, and now it's busted. My handle is broken, I'm stuck in here!"

-"Don't worry, help is on the way."

-And that's when you met Soap. There he was, showing up at your doorstep in full firefighter gear.

-"Hey there ?" he greeted, axe in hand, ready to face off against the rogue turkey.

-You weren’t kidding, he thought.

-He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the havoc that bird had wreaked in your place.

-Your poor sofa was toast, and your table was in pieces. Slowly, he made his way to the damaged door.

-"Hey there, Ah’m a firefighter. I’m here tae break down the door. Please step back."

-"Oh thanks ! I was starting to think I'd be spending the night bawling in my bathtub."

-He chuckled.

-"Wouldnae want a lovely person like yerself spendin’ Thanksgiving solo."

-"Thanks," you replied.

-"I'll get started," Soap said as he began dismantling the door.

-"Here, it looks like the turkey's gone," he reported.

-But when he turned to you, he noticed something amiss.

- Normally, people were relieved to see him, not scared out of their wits.

-His gaze shifted back, and that's when he saw it—the monstrous turkey, ready to pounce.

-Without a second thought, he scooped you up, effortlessly carrying you despite whatever size or weight you were, and bolted past the bird.

-"Why's that thing so fast?" he exclaimed.

-"They're practically dinosaurs, I swear!" you cried from the safety of his arms.

-You both made it to the street. Soap dialed up a wildlife specialist to handle the feathery menace.

-"Ah’l swearin’ off turkey forever," he vowed.

-"I think finding a new place to live might be a good idea," you whispered, still trying to calm your nerves.

-"Aye, yer neighbors are some real characters for pullin’ a stunt like this."

-"Thanks again for this. I mean, I'm sure you've got more pressing cases."

-"No’ really. Usually, it's just family squabbles. Last time, Ah had a grandma tryin’ tae kill her son wi’ mashed potatoes," he joked.

-"Grandma can get wild," you chuckled.

-"Ye have no idea. Name's John, by the way. Sorry for forgettin’ ma manners."

-"Hey, a wild turkey trying to take me out can do that to a person," you quipped. "I'm Y/n," you added.

-He grinned.

-“I owe you big time, Soap," you said, finally stepping out of the bathroom. "Guess this Thanksgiving, I'll be giving thanks for firefighters and sturdy bathtubs."

-Soap gave you a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. Plus, -it's not every day I get to play hero to a person in distress... from a turkey."

-After the turkey trouble was sorted, Soap bid his farewell. Little did he know, two days later, your new neighbor would be attempting to cook aluminum in his microwave. Maybe this time he'd find a moment to ask for your number.

-------

GHOST as a chef : 

-The poor waitress had asked you twice if you wanted to order by the time your date arrived. But it was painfully obvious. 

-You had been stood up.

 -You tried to ignore the looks, the sensation of your clothes feeling too tight, too constricting. You felt like a clown.

-Staring at your phone, you sent messages, hoping for excuses like traffic or an important matter.

-Maybe he had a flat tire, or perhaps his boss demanded he stay late. Yet, two hours later, you were still there, feeling like a fool.

-That's when the message came: "Oh, I was just joking, you're not my type, you know."

-Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the humiliation wash over you.

-How could someone flirt for two months just as a joke? He messaged you every night; how were you supposed to know it was all a farce?

-Biting your lip, you stood up.

-At this hour, you hoped there were still buses running.

-You couldn't afford an Uber. Yet, as you gathered your things, the waitress approached.

-"Excuse me, but your food will arrive."

-"I... I'm sorry, but I can't... I can't afford anything here, and my date stood me up. He was supposed to pay, and..." you rambled, feeling ashamed, but she led you back to your seat.

-You felt even more ashamed. This place was so luxurious.

-"I really can't afford it, madam," you whispered.

-"It's on the house. The chef offered it," she said gently.

-"Oh."

-You didn't know if you felt grateful or not. It felt like pity, but food from a Michelin-starred restaurant was still a luxury, so you ate. It was unbelievably good. You felt so thankful to the chef.

-"I... could I thank him?" you asked after finishing your dinner.

-"He doesn't speak to clients. That's why he opened his own restaurant — so he could remain unseen by his patrons and not be obligated to accept their thanks, As he says “I Ghost clients”" the waitress explained.

-"I see. His dishes are so precise, it's impressive."

-"Yeah, he's good with a knife."

-"Well, thanks again for offering me this. It was a crappy night, but at least I ended up in heaven," you said.

-She smiled, and you left.

-But you felt indebted to him. Dishes like that cost a lot.

- Even if you didn't doubt he could afford it, you felt like you had to do something in return.

-So the next night, you baked cookies.

-You felt ridiculous with your small Tupperware and homemade cookies.

-They'd probably taste awful to him, you thought, but you wanted to repay him.

-"Hi, I... wanted to give this to Ghost? He offered me dishes last time, and I wanted to thank him. I understand if you say no. I mean, it could have poison in it, but..." you rambled to the waiter.

-"No need, we'll take it," the waiter with a mohawk said with a smile.

-You felt like he knew something you didn't. As you were about to leave, a tall, blond man walked over, holding a cookie.

-"Thanks," he said with a gruff voice behind his mask.

-Shit. Ghost was... this man?

-This mountain of muscles made those beautiful dishes? Those meticulous details came from his hands? You were impressed.

-"Do you like it?" you asked, unsure.

-"Best cookies I've tasted."

-"I know you're lying."

-"Second," he admitted. "My ma's were better."

-You chuckled.

-"I can give you the recipe. I mean, you really saved me last night. It was so... humiliating."

-"It's not. The only one who should feel ashamed is the bloke who stood you up, love."

-"You're right, but still."

-"Come back again, Friday. With the recipe."

-"I can send it by email."

-"I want you to taste a new dish."

-"Oh."

-"Having someone honest is nice. It's a change from all the compliments."

-"Okay," you agreed.

-Little did you know, Simon would always find new dishes to make you come back.

-Of course, he could ask his sous-chefs or waiters to taste, but seeing your smile or frown after a taste was so much better.

-(I need a long fic about Simon being a chef, like this AU has so much potential, plus in kitchen you have “brigade” which could be like 141)

GAZ as a primary school teacher : 

-You were on your usual delivery route, this time dropping off packages at the primary school.

-As you made your way through the corridors, you spotted Gaz, the primary teacher, who greeted you with a smile.

-"I was waiting for you," Gaz said cheerfully.

-"Oh, am I right on time?" you responded, glancing at your phone in confusion.

-"Yes, but the kids are eager," Gaz explained.

-You furrowed your eyebrows. Eager for what? Seeing a delivery person? Or perhaps the contents of your package were something special, like paintings or other intriguing items?

-"I see," you said, still puzzled.

-"Follow me," Gaz instructed, leading you into his classroom before you could protest.

-As you entered, you were met with the curious gaze of twenty pairs of eyes.

-It dawned on you as you glanced at a piece of paper – Gaz had mistaken you for the guest speaker, an athlete scheduled to address the students.

-"Sir, I think there's been a mistake," you whispered to Gaz, but before you could say more, a child wrapped their arms around you.

-"I'm so glad you're here!" the child exclaimed, melting your resolve. How could you shatter their excitement?

-You couldn’t bear to crush their excitement. Besides, it was clear that the athlete wasn’t going to show up; it was already 10 AM, and they were supposed to be there by 8AM according to the schedule on the board.

-And so, you found yourself spinning tales to answer their questions, pretending to be the athlete they expected. 

-“Um, hey there ! Being an athlete is pretty cool, you know” you improvised, trying to sound convincing.

-“How does it feel to do sports all day ?” one curious kid asked

-“Well it’s tough but you know riding horse is fun”

-“I thought you were running”

-“RUNNING ! Of course, horse is just a hobby” you blurted out

-Despite your fibs, the kids beamed with admiration, hanging onto your every word.

-After a couple of hours, Gaz approached you with a knowing smile.

-"You're not the athlete, are you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

-"How did you figure it out?" you replied sheepishly.

-"When you mentioned unicorns helping your coach – that was a dead giveaway," Gaz chuckled. "But I appreciate you playing along."

-"I couldn’t bear to disappoint the kids. Kids' dreams are important," you admitted, feeling a twinge of guilt.

-"Yeah, they are," Gaz agreed. "Thanks for going along with it."

-"It was more fun than my usual deliveries, anyway," you admitted with a grin.

-“Wait, your boss won’t be mad ?! I mean two hours, sorry you must be so late, no ?”he said worried

-“Don’t worry you were my last”

-As you prepared to leave, Gaz introduced himself properly.

-"Thanks against or helping out. And by the way 'm Kyle, but the kids call me Gaz – it's easier for them," he explained.

-"It was nice meeting you, Gaz," you said sincerely, touched by his kindness towards the children.

-As you left the school, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. And to your surprise, when you made your next delivery, there was Gaz, offering to lend a hand. 

-"Thought you might need some help this time," he said with a wink.

-Maybe it was repayment for your earlier assistance, or perhaps the kids had teased him about having a crush on you – either way, you were grateful for his company.

PRICE as an uni history teacher :

-It was about 10 PM, and there you were, sprinting in high heels, your wig dangling precariously.

-"Oh, for the love of all that’s good," you muttered under your breath.

-The situation was straightforward, yet utterly absurd.

- You, a university teacher, found yourself at a costume party with a Bridgerton theme.

- After hastily getting ready at your friend’s place, it dawned on you that you had forgotten your house key.

-Sure, crashing at your friend's was an option, but you had a furry friend waiting at home who needed your attention.

-So, off you went, driving back to the only place your keys could be: the teacher's offices at the university.

- Picture this: you, clad in an 18th-century outfit, a fake wig teetering on your head, and a petticoat swishing around, all the while cursing your luck and hoping no students would spot you.

-Finally, you reached the office, finding it deserted. You located your keys and—

-"Quite the accurate ensemble, I must say."

-You froze, turning to find a man with a rather impressive beard. "Um, I can explain?"

-"Are you a student?" he asked.

-"No need to butter me up; I know I don't exactly look like one," you confessed.

-He chuckled. "Sorry, I was just trying to give you an out. You know, student parties and whatnot."

-"Thanks, but yeah, I'm the… new teacher. Guess we haven't crossed paths yet. Been here about a month," you said, extending your hand.

-"Well, isn't this a fortunate coincidence?" he remarked.

-"How so?"

-"I’m John Price," he revealed.

-Your eyes widened. Oh, crap. You just met THE history teacher of the campus dressed as a Bridgerton character. What were the odds?

-He laughed. "Nice to meet my new colleague. Heard quite a bit about your work."

-"Likewise, and… sorry about the attire," you apologized.

-"No need. It suits you. Makes me feel like a proper gentleman seeing someone dressed like that," he said with a grin.

-You chuckled nervously. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Price."

-Little did you know, your next class for the first year was a shared one with him. Dodging him might not be as simple as you thought.

NIKOLAI as a F1 pilot :

-Your friend's desperate plea over the phone stirred something in you.

-"Alright, I'll come help with the shoot," you conceded, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension.

-As you arrived at the location, taking in the serene surroundings, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place among the bustling crew.

-Your specialty lay in capturing the untamed beauty of animals—dogs, cats, and the like.

-This commercial setup felt like a far cry from your usual stomping grounds.

-Engaging in conversation with the staff about the artistic direction, you couldn't help but notice the artificiality of the setting, with fake plants and trees surrounding you.

-Nevertheless, you settled in, adjusting lights and preparing for the task at hand.

-"The model is here," an assistant announced, drawing your attention to the center of the room where a man stood, completely naked.

-"Why is he naked?" you whispered in disbelief, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks.

-"It's for the charity event, featuring naked pilots for calendars," the staff explained casually, oblivious to your discomfort.

-Stunned, you turned to your friend, silently questioning her decision to involve you in this unconventional endeavor.

-"I photograph nature and animals, not... naked humans!" you protested, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

-"Well, technically, you photograph a big snake," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.

-You rolled your eyes, suppressing a sigh. "Ugh, don't even mention his...thing, please."

-"I don't mind being called an anaconda," the man interjected with a smirk, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race.

-Caught off guard by his boldness, you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity.

- "Sir, I'm sorry, but I wasn't warned about these... circumstances," you stammered, struggling to maintain composure.

-"I understand. If we need to reschedule, no problem, Солнышко ," he reassured, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.

-"What did you just say?" you asked, unable to hide the hint of fluster in your tone.

-"Sorry, I meant no problem to reschedule, sunshine," he clarified, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

-"But you're... a star?" you questioned, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

-"I'm a well-known F1 pilot, yes. But I'm closer to retirement than those young ones. I doubt people would buy the calendar for me," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.

-"I'd certainly buy it for you," your friend chimed in, breaking the tension with a playful grin.

-He laughed, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. "And you?"

-"I... maybe? Okay, we'll do it, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm more accustomed to animals, so..." you trailed off, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of working closely with him.

-"Let's get started," he suggested, his smile softening the edges of the room and easing your nerves.

-And so, the shoot commenced, with Nikolai proving to be a surprisingly adept model, effortlessly charming everyone with his wit and charisma.

- As you directed him through the poses, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension between you, a magnetic pull that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

-"Thanks for today. Need a ride?" he offered, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

-"No, I came in my car," you replied, torn between the desire to stay and the need to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.

-"The red one?" a staff member inquired, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between you.

-"Yeah, why?" you asked, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the thought of your car.

-"Sorry, mate, your car got impounded," they informed you, their words puncturing the bubble of tension that had enveloped you.

-You sighed, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. "So, a ride?" Nikolai offered, his gaze softening with concern.

-"Yeah, I guess. What a crappy day," you muttered, cursing your luck.

-"Don't say that, it was great," he insisted, his voice gentle and reassuring.

-You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him for his unexpected kindness. In his car, as he drove you away from the chaos of the shoot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling that was only amplified by his soothing presence.

-"Not what you were expecting, huh?" he remarked, his tone playful yet sincere.

-"Well, I wasn't expecting a race car drive, but yeah," you chuckled, feeling the tension between you slowly dissipating.

-"I drive safely. Sometimes you need low adrenaline," he explained, his words resonating with you in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

-"Thanks again for the ride," you said, turning to him with a smile that felt more genuine than any you had worn all day.

-"No problem. I mean, you've seen me naked, so..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye.

-"Yeah, sure," you laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the playful banter.

-"If you want, you can still come to one of my races," he offered, his gaze lingering on you with a hopefulness that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.

-"I'll think about it," you replied, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips as you contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead.

ALEX as a lawyer :

-You couldn't believe your eyes.

-A client was after you for a cup of tea—yes, you heard that right, a freaking tea!

-The same tea you accidentally spilled during a chaotic rush, and she tripped you with her feet, claiming you scalded her with hot tea. The kicker?

-You knew it was iced tea.

- But it was your word against hers, and she had a squadron of lawyers ready to pounce, while you were broke. It was pretty clear how this would end.

-You sighed, resorting to searching for lawyers online, but all you found were scams.

-One promised to chase after dead people, another claimed you'd make thousands just by being pretty, and the rest boasted about defending infamous criminals with laughably bad Photoshopped images.

-Feeling desperate, you reluctantly agreed when your mom mentioned your cousin knew someone who knew someone. You certainly didn't expect a model-lawyer showing up at your doorstep with a bright smile and legal expertise.

-"Hi, I'm Alex," he offered his hand.

-"Hi, I guess you know about my... case?" you replied.

-"Yes, there's a high chance of her winning since similar cases have ruled in favor of people like her. Remember the McDonald's hot coffee incident?" he explained.

-"So I'm screwed?" you muttered.

-"Not necessarily. I can prove she's acting out of self-interest."

-"...before you say anything, you know, I can't... afford it?" you interjected.

-"Yes. I... I used to be a prominent lawyer. Perhaps you've heard of the Shepherd case?" he mentioned.

-"The CEO who got off the hook despite everyone knowing he committed tax fraud?" you recalled.

-"Yes, I was his lawyer," he admitted.

-"Oh," you murmured, taken aback.

-"I... I'm not proud of the people I've defended. I didn't realize the harm I was causing to victims. For me, everyone deserved representation, but when I saw what Shepherd did with his ill-gotten gains... I couldn't continue down that path. I signed up to advocate for people. Not evil," he confessed.

-"So you took on lost causes like me?" you mused.

-"You could say that," he smiled.

-"Well, it sounds like Daredevil. Maybe I'll catch you wearing a latex suit at night while fighting crime," you joked.

-"You might be onto something there," he replied, his expression serious.

-"Wait, you're joking?" you asked, but he didn't crack a smile.

-"Mr. Keller, you're joking, right?" you pressed, but he just smirked.

-"Let's focus on your case," he redirected.

-"You can't just dodge my question. I need to know—" 

-"Boxing. I box at night, nothing illegal. I train kids, and I've competed in the past," he confessed.

-"I see. Why do I find that hard to believe?" you teased.

-"I'm a damn good liar. I'm a lawyer," he retorted.

-"Fair point," you chuckled.”well at least I believe in the latex suit at night”

-“Kinky”he joked, you smiled.

-Alex got down to business, helping you devise a strategy.

-Maybe with this super lawyer on your side, you stood a chance. Yet, you couldn't shake the curiosity about his secrets. Who knows what uncovering them might bring?

KÖNIG as a baker :

-König had just opened his bakery.

- Eager to be neighborly, he sent some cookies to the local shops nearby.

- However, when his customers arrived one day, one of them expressed hesitation: "You know, I was hesitant to buy here because I heard you made the florist down the street sick."

-König couldn't believe his ears.

- Ashamed, he double-checked his ingredients, but everything seemed fine.

-So, he decided to switch things up and bake some croissants instead.

-Yet, the next day brought news that the florist had fallen ill due to food poisoning.

-Determined to make amends, König sent something different the following day.

-And the pattern repeated itself. After a week of this, he finally decided to confront the florist.

-Entering their cute shop, he whispered nervously, "Hallo."

-"Hi," you replied.

-"I'm König, the—"

-"The baker," you interrupted.

-He froze.

-Well, he certainly hadn't made a good impression.

-After seven incidents, he couldn't expect a warm reception, but he hoped you’d understand he hadn't done it intentionally. He wasn't a villain.

-"I'm sorry about the pastries," he began, "I swear I don't know what went wrong. Other shops ate them and had no issues. I—"

-"I know you're not trying to poison me," you interjected.

-"Oh, but... then why?" he asked.

-"I thought someone would have told you, maybe Horangi, the chef at the restaurant. But I'm lactose intolerant. I assumed you knew, so I ate your pastries thinking someone had informed you. Then, I realized that wasn't the case. But if I didn't eat your gift, you might have thought I was upset with you, so I still ate them, and—"

-"It was a misunderstanding," König finished their sentence.

-"Two anxious people overthinking things, but yeah," you admitted, laughing.

-"I promise to bake you something lactose-free," he vowed.

-"Thanks, it'll be appreciated. Your pastries were good, just not for my digestive system," you replied.

-He nodded and returned to his bakery, pondering the idea of introducing gluten and lactose-free versions of his pastries. Surely not because of the cute florist who seemed to visit more often now. Nah.

RUDY as a librarian :

-You were a young journalist, eager to dive into investigative reporting, but your editor relegated you to the local sports section since you were the new kid on the block.

- It wasn't exactly your passion, but you made the best of it. Your current assignment: write about Rodolfo Parra, a former boxer.

-Avoiding the internet due to its unreliable nature, especially for local stories, you opted for the library.

- As you searched for information on Parra, a man approached.

-"Need a hand?" he offered.

-You glanced at his badge, confirming his name as Rudy.

-"Yeah, I'm digging up info on the boxer Rodolfo Parra. I heard his early days were at the local club, so I figured the archives might have something," you explained.

-Rudy smiled. "Rodolfo Parra, huh?"

-"Yeah, you know him?"

-"You could say that, but I've heard he's not too keen on journalists."

-"Exactly why I couldn't land an interview," you sighed.

-"But why write about him? He retired two years ago," Rudy questioned.

-"My boss wants it, so here I am," you replied with a hint of resignation.

-"I've got some info, but can I trust you?" Rudy hesitated.

-"Absolutely, I'll respect his privacy. I just want to know his story, his struggles. I've heard rumors about a fixed fight where a coach, El Sinombre, forced him to lose," you shared.

-Rudy's expression darkened. "It was more than that. I'm surprised you know about it."

-"I've delved into El Sinombre's dealings before. I wanted to write for investigative reporting," you confessed. "I found it odd that a sports club had ties to a pharmacy."

-"They developed stimulants to win fights, and more... potent substances," Rudy revealed.

-"So Rodolfo lost to a doped-up opponent?" you concluded.

-"Yeah. Rumor has it, El Sinombre threatened his family if he didn't comply. Rodolfo vowed never to lose, so El Sinombre took matters into his own hands..." Rudy trailed off.

-"And Rodolfo ended up paralyzed," you finished solemnly.

-"Yeah, but with rehab, he's probably walking now. But he can't fight anymore," Rudy confirmed.

-"Having your dreams crushed like that must be devastating. A fighter silenced," you mused.

-"Maybe it was for the best," Rudy countered.

-"You think so?" you questioned.

-"Boxing isn't a lifelong career. Maybe retiring was a blessing," he reasoned.

-"I don't know, having your dreams shattered like that... it must take a toll. Imagine if someone burned down your library," you countered.

-"Well, this library was my backup dream, so I'd just have to find another," he quipped.

-You nodded, then realization dawned. "Your backup dream?"

-"Yeah," Rudy admitted. "Rudy for Rodolfo. Not the smartest move for a future investigative journalist, huh?"

-"Hey! You—yeah, I was naïve, but you could've given me a heads-up," you teased back.

-"Now, tell me about your boss. Things might be more complicated than we thought," Rudy suggested.

-"Do you think El Sinombre is after you?" you pondered.

-"We'll find out," he replied cryptically.

-Maybe your beat would evolve over time...

If you want more : my masterlist

I still need to write Alejandro, Lasswell and Farah, maybe in a next part with other characters :) !

[justwinginglife]

Gimme a oneshot of Reader who doesn't have any experience in love so she panics when she gets feelings for Hoshina, giving him random things (a nice rock, random vegetables, ect.) And randomly blurts out embarrassing compliments "YOUR MUSCLES LOOK VERY NICE TODAY VICE CAPTAIN SIR" before she just fucking books it out of there.

I love you so much bestie. I will do this for you 100%, thanks for always matching my freak.

The Thing About Being In Love

You always thought you wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face. But then you fell in love and felt like you just couldn't stop taking hits. You had no idea how to process your feelings, no idea how to convey those feelings in a way that made sense, and no idea how to stop those feelings from overflowing.

The thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina was that your feelings always made themselves known to him before you wanted them to. Before you could even think about what you needed to say and how you needed to say it, you words were already tumbling out in a chaotic jumble. They always did. And it made you love him even more that he never judged you for it. He'd just smile the same sweet smile again and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper.

When you first met him, you made quite the first impression- after reflexively reaching out to ruffle his hair because you just needed to know if it was as soft as it looked, you earned yourself 50 push-up's and his undying attention going forward. He wanted to know more about the girl who'd said fuck it to all manner of decorum and propriety, ignoring the chain of command to satisfy her desires. It wasn't until he got to know you better that he realized that you just couldn't control yourself.

He'd been particularly amused when you'd complimented the way his muscles looked in his favorite compression shirt (it was his favorite only because you'd complimented him in it). In fact, you'd noticed that he'd started wearing it more frequently around you after you made comments on it the first time around. And you just couldn't stop making comments on it every time after that.

"Oh, wow... your back muscles are gorgeous, can I touch them?" You yanked your hand back before you actually did touch him and scurried off, red in the face.

"Your abs look so solid... shit, I'm drooling." You shook your head aggressively, wiped your mouth, and ran off again.

One time you'd even had the nerve to say "Do you think you could wear me like that shirt?" Immediately after, you slapped a hand over your mouth and bolted like you were on fire.

And when you'd taken up gardening for fun, after harvesting a bunch of potatoes, you wondered if Hoshina liked potatoes which led you spiraling down the rabbit hole, wondering if he was eating enough. So, of course, you made the walk to his apartment in your gardening overalls and offered him the potato, still covered in dirt. He took it, stunned, and watched as you proceeded to walk away as if you'd never been there in the first place. Little did he know, you were embarrassed that you'd trudged over to him, still caked in mud, just to present him with the most underwhelming of gifts. You still didn't know how you got these ideas in your head and why your body executed them before your mind could properly protest.

Then there was the time that someone had painted a smiley face on a rock and placed it near the sidewalk by your house- it had reminded you of his warm smile and you'd given it to him in the middle of a training session. Despite your malfunctioning brain, your strength and your skill were actually quite impressive, and he always enjoyed a good spar with you. It wasn't until he had you pinned to the ground that you felt the rock digging into your leg and you'd pulled it out of your pocket and gifted it to him right then and there. He did more than smile that time, he actually laughed. You flushed, wondering if he was going to make fun of you for once, but he didn't. He took the rock gleefully and even named it after you. You started giggling and soon, the two of you were just collapsed on the floor, filled with laughter.

At least some good could come out of these random bursts of affection and you wouldn't trade these precious little moments with him for the world. The thought that you were the one that made him smile and laugh like this, it filled you with the most genuine sense of happiness even if you were embarrassed at how you'd done it.

At some point, Hoshina thought he'd have some fun with the situation- he didn't want you to feel left out after all, and he wanted to compliment you too.

So he started running up to you, yelling something like "Your hair looks very pretty today!" or "Those curves of yours are looking mighty fine!" and then dart off; even though he wasn't embarrassed, he wanted to keep the same energy as you. It made you laugh. And he loved when you laughed.

And then it got easier and easier to be around him. You weren't stumbling over your words anymore, you were proclaiming them with pride.

"Thought you could hide those biceps from me forever, huh, Hoshina? Let me get a good look." You even had the nerve to fucking wink at him.

He'd smirk and flex them at you, then blow you a kiss.

And you went on and on like this, flirting with him, laughing with him, stealing little moments with him anywhere you could. The thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina was that your feelings always made themselves known to him. But somehow, someway, through all the awkward encounters, all the stammered words, all the heavy breaths threatening to collapse your trembling lungs, your feelings found their way into his heart. And he guarded them like they were his treasure. And he reciprocated them tenfold.

One day, he said the cheesiest thing about how when you had kids he'd have the best story to tell them about how you met and how you started falling for each other and you teased him for being so corny, but that was the day you knew you'd marry him.

Because the thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina is that it's the best feeling in the world, but being loved by Soshiro Hoshina is even better.

[krypticcafe]

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

[wroteclassicaly]

I would love a little blurb about Eddie comforting us after getting laid off. Because naturally our self-worth took a huge hit, but our sweet boy is always there to lift us up.

This is actually pretty close to one of my current situations. Not the getting laid off part, but struggling at work. So I can definitely relate! And I hope you’re okay as well? Thanks for sending this in!

❤️

Warnings: Some angst and sadness, hurt/comfort. But then fluff and sweetness!

You didn’t call Eddie like you usually did before leaving work. He drives you and picks you up, yes, but you always want to meet for coffee before going back home. To say he’s shocked when you walk into the apartment and literally throw your purse across the room, that’s an understatement of the year. He’s cautious, like a small piece of prey in the jungle, whereas you’re the lion. Neither of you really believe in walking on eggshells, but he can tell something is seriously wrong when he finally gets on socked feet into your eye-line.

Your makeup is already smeared around your eyelashes, your nose is snotty, and you’re sniffling, staring at the wall behind him, angry at even the chipped paint. He knows this look, he’s perfected this look. Actually, he thinks this look might’ve rubbed off on you. Fear of showing vulnerability. Eddie is gentle in his coaxing, hardwood creaking beneath his footfalls.

You permit his close range, allowing him to take your hands in his. However, you don’t squeeze back, and he’s worried. “Hey, stubborn chin, you wanna look at me?”

No answer. He searches with those eyes of his, anxiety spilling over a little. He remembers that you’re here and you’re safe, so everything else is fixable. His fingers find yours to clasp, before they’re sliding in taps down the sleeve of your blouse, along your forearm, finding your shoulder blade to squeeze. You sway into him and fold into his beckoning embrace.

It takes some muffled sobs before Eddie can get you onto the couch and on his lap, his palm gently easing your face away from the cove of his curls. Looking into his eyes presses in on your guts, seeing the acceptance and love. You begin to spill through sobs.

“They laid me off. After everything, can you believe it? Four years and they decided I’m disposable. Now what are we gonna do? I’m such a fucking loser. I’m - I’m…”

The self-berating, the negativity. How it angered you when Eddie did it, and he can see why. But you’re not the enemy, you’re hurting. It’s not some random person Eddie would gladly clock the shit out of that’s saying this, it’s you. And that’s worse.

He’s shaking his head multiple times, curls bouncing. He clasps your cheeks in his palms, coolness of his rings pressing into your skin, soothing. Theres a burning intensity that draws your attention like a moth to a flame. “Listen to me when I tell you, I know what a loser looks like, sweetheart. I came from the balls of one. And you’re the farthest thing from it. You know that they messed up laying you off. As for what we’re gonna do? I can more than take care of you if you need to take a break, or even if you don’t want to go back to work some place.”

You settle, letting your ring finger wrap around a curl. That small diamond is perched there, reminding you of what’s important, what you have that a job can’t extinguish. You’re quiet, before speaking again. “But… Eddie, our wedding —“

“ — Is almost paid for. So just relax, baby. Be a bride, spend some time with the girls. Let me worry about money for a while. You just be you, which is absolutely fucking perfect the way that you are.”

“What if I turn into a couch potato, Ed’s?” You’re starting to grin a little, Eddie knowing you needed this break more than anything. Time to be a person again.

Eddie thumbs as your tears, pokes your nose. “Then you’ll be my favorite little spud.”

[vrystalius]

How would the Hashiras react to finding out that Sanemi is secretly dating the star Hashira ?Sanemi's girlfriend created the star breath and she became hashira around the same time as sanemi/she killed the lower moon 1. She and Sanemi were enemies turned lovers (can you include Sanemi's version please?/it was a discreet romance so she and Sanemi didn't tell the others)

Secretly dating Sanemi

The hashira’s reaction to Sanemi and you dating in secret.

Includes: Giyu, Kyojuro, Muichiro, Tengen, Gyomei, Mitsuri, Shinobu, Sanemi

Sanemi was pressing you up against the wooden walls, planting desperate kisses all along your neck and collar. He was tugging on your collar trying to reveal even more skin to him. The air in the armoury felt steamy.

Your hands gripped onto his uniform. “N-Nemi, not here, i-idiot- n-not now.” You shuddered as you felt his teeth sink into your skin, before placing multiple kisses on it. “Fuck, I want you now.” Sanemi mumbled into your ear. He pulled away, his lips hovering over yours. Just as he was about to lean in for another kiss, the door to the armoury opened and the love hashira stood in the frame.

“KYYAAHHHHH!!”

The news about you two spread quickly…. What do the others think about you two?

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu would not show the surprise on his face. His face is neutral as always, maybe even a little more gloomy than usual. But on the inside, he’d be a little envious of Sanemi. Of course he’d be finding love this soon. But those thoughts were fairly quickly overshadowed by confusion. How did you two even start dating? Weren’t you guys at each other’s throats the whole time? Well, you still are, but more romantically now.

His respect for Sanemi prevents him from judging you two harshly, and as long as your relationship doesn’t jeopardise any missions, Giyu doesn’t mind.

“Good for you two.”

Kyojuro Rengoku

He could be incredibly happy for you two. Kyojuro would have never thought that you two would be dating, since he was the one who used to break up your fights and make you mediate.

The flame hashira would slap Sanemi on the back, laughing and congratulating him loudly, unintentionally making everyone else on the estate hear him. Even though he was very surprised and confused after first finding it out, he quickly became your biggest supporter! From now on, he thinks everytime you and Sanemi are talking, you two are surely being romantic! Maybe even planning a date? He’s just a little curious.

“Oh? Are you going on date tonight? May I recommend a perfect establishment to visit? They have incredible sweet potato dishes!”

Muichiro Tokito

Muichiro could not care less. As long as you two aren’t being overly affectionate in front of him and don’t let this interfere with your duties as hashira, he does’t care.

He also didn’t care about your arguments before, so why would he care about you dating now? Also, he’d quickly forget about you two dating anyway.

“Oh? You two are in love?… Okay.”

Tengen Uzui

Tengen would be incredibly amused. Just to annoy Sanemi, he would pull you aside and give you “tips” on how to keep things flashy in the bedroom. Also, he would offer Sanemi help in case he has any questions about relationships, given that he has been in three relationships, now marriages, while Sanemi probably was never dating anyone. Of course, Tengen is only saying this to fuck around with him. He’s actually supportive and real happy for you.

Also, he would probably tell his wives about you two, shocking them as well.

“Don’t be shy, tell me… What’s it like, hm? Sanemi must be rough with ya. Or is he gentle? I see him go both ways.”

Gyomei Himejima

He knew about you two the whole time. Gyomei was planning this the whole time, ever since you became a hashira. He envisioned you with Sanemi since the start and gave the both of you little encouragements to make a move, without outright telling you. After you two started dating in secret, Gyomei could just tell how the energy between you two shifted.

But after the other hashira found out about you, Gyomei acted as if this is the first time he heard about this.

“I am truly happy for you two. I wish you the best for the future.”

Mitsuri Kanroji

After drowning in shame and embarrassment when she found you and Sanemi getting on it in the closet, she’d be incredibly bubbly and happy for you two! Mitsuri would be so curious, asking a million questions about how it’s like, what you two like to do, who said “I love you first”, where and when the first kiss was, how it was… the list goes on.

Overall, Mitsuri is super happy for you two! She’ll squeal everytime she sees you two together, thinking you are totally being super romantic right now!!

“Oh! Oh! How did you two even fell for him? It thought you and him really hated each other…”

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu would have her usual grin on her face. She’d tease Sanemi about becoming softer, especially for you, and about being safe during certain activities. Her teasing would be gentler than usual though. She’s happy for you and him, wishing you nothing but the best. Sanemi could use the good influence, maybe you can stop him from slashing himself open during fights. Less work for her.

“Make sure to be safe during intercourse, okay? We don’t want a baby to disrupt everything, do we?”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi’s first reaction is to yell and lash out at the other hashira, telling them to back off and leave him and you alone. Why are they so damn nosy?!

You (besides Kagaya) are the only one who can make him calm down and not to threaten to beat the shit out of Tengen for teasing him. He’d distance himself from the other hashira, not wanting to face their annoying comments. This is exactly why he wanted to keep this a secret…

“Nah, I’m not gonna go train with them. Can we train together instead? ‘m not in the mood to deal with their shit.”

💠

So sorry it took so long! I really struggled with this one, I hope you enjoy it anyways!! My requests are open for both the hashira and the upper moons <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves!

[lunerabo]

bedbug

cw: sub!Mahito, dom!AFAB!Reader, can we even call this pegging, dark content, stabbing, gore, evisceration (kinda), fauxjob, throatfucking (a new definition of it), dawg why did I write this

If you’re a sorcerer, you’re either here against your will, or you’re insane, they’d said.

You’re the latter; something’s been knocked just slightly off course in your mind to make you say the things you do, act the way you do. You enjoy the job far more than anyone in your field should. While others long to escape, you dream of plunging further in.

And plunge you do, just how the creature beneath you begs, its need for torture insatiable.

Blue hair swings and bobs beneath you, the curse’s throat making way for you as you fuck his mouth like you hate him. You do, you think. He’s terrific fun, though. Perhaps that’s why you let him live long enough to have him visit you like this.

He looks up at you, and you don’t like it. You sneer at him, gripping his bangs and shoving his head back downward to keep him from meeting your gaze. A giggle escapes him, cheeky, composed, far too much for your liking. Those sloppy gagging noises please you far more.

He slides off of you with a wet puah sound, tongue still out as he does. He licks his lips.

“Want to see something cool?”

That’s never good, coming out of his mouth. You make a face at him, something between a disapproving sneer and an exasperated grimace, lips pulled taut and brow furrowed. But against your better judgement, you nod at him once, the kind of casual ‘what’s up’ motion you’d send his way if you walked past him on the street.

Slender fingers stretch into talons that rend his own flesh, tearing into the soft, yielding skin beneath his chin and ungracefully ripping down and outward, spraying blood with the force of his pull. Skin stretches and tears like a plastic bag, becoming thin and white before it begins to rip. He bleeds profusely down his chest, more so when he reaches in and causes even more aimless damage. No move he makes is calculated; he may as well have stuck a potato masher in there.

Yet you watch, transfixed, and most amazingly, not nauseated by the sight. Your gaze follows in amazement as he draws the cut a little ways down his chest, ripping out anything he can grab that the opening allows. Torn nerves and skin and muscle and part of what you think is his esophagus hang limply outside his body, and he bleeds all over his lap before you, grinning and smug and eager to put on a show.

His tongue lolls out when he opens his jaw, no longer attached to anything except the bottom of his mouth. He swipes it down across his chin, something that shouldn’t be possible, with him having severed its connection in his throat.

And fuck, he’s beautiful.

Mahito shows you what surely awaits you in hell. He’s a picture of the horrors that plagued the minds of the disturbed across centuries, depicted in paintings of demons and monsters and those meeting their due punishments. You’re not likely to be grinning that much, but perhaps he knows that, and finds his own pleasure in that knowledge.

He scrambles towards you, bloodied hands clawing up your thighs, and he begs wordlessly. A hand wraps around your toy, sets it against his face. He looks up at you.

“My, you are a pretty creature, aren’t you?”

Soft, tender hands brush hair from his face as though they love him, a finger sliding underneath to run up the length of the exposed flesh to feel what he feels like on the inside. It presses down on his tongue, cleaning itself of the blood it has collected.

You force your way in, not through his mouth, but now through the new hole he has so graciously made for you.

Warm blood gushes down your thighs and a downright pornographic groan rips from his ruined throat despite his severed vocal cords. For a moment, you actually wonder how it is his body works to make that possible.

He clings to you desperately, begging for more, more, more, holding your waist flush against his opened neck. The fleshy bulge bobbing at the back of his throat bursts with the pressure he forces on it, and the bulbous head of the strap pokes through. It disappears and reappears through a hole in the flesh that doesn’t even appear to be there when you aren’t poking through it, and Mahito seems to revel in having his throat fucked backwards far more than anything else you’ve done to him. His eyes roll back and the corners of his lips pull upward, his tongue hanging out and moving a little each time the strap presses against the back of it. Blood and drool pour from his mouth, and he fucks into his fist beneath you like he’s about to burst at the seams.

He looks up at you, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, and a warmth that definitely doesn’t flow like more blood trickles down your leg.

You withdraw, and he looks down at himself for a second. He’s drenched the both of you in blood but the wound seals in an instant, and he licks his lips and swallows, as if to make sure he put everything back correctly.

You coo at him, tone sickly sweet, feeding him words of hatred and disgust that he eats right up with a grin.

“That was a lot of fun!” He exclaims, voice light and airy, “but I’ve done something bad, though, haven’t I?” That familiar cheekiness returns, a telltale sign that he knows he’s not done. But he doesn’t want to be.

“That you have, boy.”

The curse leans back, gesturing for you to look at the whole expanse of his body.

“So where do you want me to make the next hole?”

[7ndipity]

Long Distance Relationship HCs

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: How Yoongi would be in a long distance relationship. In connection to this blurb.

Warnings: not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Writing these really brought my mood up(can I pls have a Yoongi? For my health?) I hope you like them!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You’re 100% on point about him making those little ‘joking-but-dead-serious’ comments constantly, like “There’s a flight leaving in like two hours, I could be there by the time you wake up tomorrow morning… Why are you laughing? I’ll even bring breakfast!”

He would use any excuse to fly you to Seoul.

“It’s done nothing but rain here all week.” “Damn, that sucks. Although, you know, that wouldn’t be a problem if you were here.”

“I’m not flying to Korea just to buy potato chips.” “Why not?! I’ll pay for your ticket!”

He does make sure you don’t go more than about a month without seeing each other in person, whether that’s him coming to you or vice versa, even if it’s just one day.

You tend to video call each other while you’re doing whatever and just leave the call open, not even really talking outside of the occasional comment or question, just keeping each other company.

Y’all send little care packages to each other full of things like favorite snacks, random little gifts you’ve found, hoodies, etc.

For some reason, I think y’all would have some little plushie that you send back and forth, sending pics of what they're up to while they’re with you(hanging out in his studio, binge watching youtube with you).

Because he’s so busy all the time, it doesn’t actually feel all that different sometimes from when you’re in the same city, but that almost makes the moments when you do feel the distance all the worse. Not being able to physically be there for each other when you’re really down or having a tough time is absolute agony.

“Did you know that the international space station is only 250 miles up? It’s closer than we are right now.” “Babe...”🥺

Literally the first time you cried over the phone with him, he lived up to his ‘jokes’ and had his plane ticket booked before you’d hung up.

You wake up the next morning to him calling you like “Open your fucking door, I brought coffee.” and you’re like wtf?! But you open the door and sure enough, there he is.

And when you ask “What are you doing here?!” He’s just like “You were crying. I couldn’t leave you here on your own.”😭

The first time you surprised him like this(probably for his birthday or Christmas), he cried and refused to let you go for over an hour.

The day you tell him you’re moving to Seoul is probably one of the happiest days of his life. (He won’t hear of you getting your own place tho. “I’ve had more than my fill of distance, Love. I need you here, with me.”)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[autisticlancemcclain]

“You’re not going.”

Keith picks his head up from the table. “Huh?”

“To the Blades,” Lance clarifies, chopping up something that looks like a bright pink potato and throwing it in a rapidly boiling pot in what Keith would call an aggressive manner. “You’re not going.”

“…I didn’t say I was.”

He didn’t. He didn’t mention anything about the Blades to any living soul. Like, yeah, he had made the decision and was going to, but.

There’s no reason Lance should know that.

“Good, then, because I took your uniform — which looks like a slutty catsuit, by the way, just so you’re aware — to the incinerator last night. It’s ash now.”

Keith stares at his best friend, jaw dropped, hands resting limply on the edge of the dining table, because — huh? pardon? what happened?

“Whatever identity crisis you’re having can happen here,” Lance adds, shaking some spices into the boiling pot and stirring it a couple times. He dips in a spoon, brings it up to his lips, then makes a face. “Here, try this.”

He marches over to where Keith has been moping as he makes dinner and shoves a spoon into his gaping mouth. Keith chokes, hot stew making its merry way down his trachea, eyes watering and chest heaving.

“A little too salty,” he rasps.

Lance scowls. “Fuck. I knew it. Gotta add more barbie potatoes.” He turns down the heat, grabbing more potatoes from the sack and busying himself with peeling them. Slowly, as he recovers from the fear of his actual lungs collapsing in on themselves, Keith stands, hesitantly approaching Lance and reaching for a knife to chop what he peels.

“So,” he starts.

Lance ignores him.

But Keith is used to this dynamic. It’s either this or flipped. Friends or not, if there’s one thing they can’t do it’s use their big boy words. So he carries on.

“I take it you…don’t want me to go, then.”

Lance grunts. “Oh, look, the caveman has room in his skull for a brain after all.”

“Uncalled for,” Keith says, scowling. “I am not the one who’s refusing to communicate right now.”

The corner of Lance’s mouth twitches upwards.

Score. Point to Keith.

“Obviously I don’t want you to leave, you stupid dumbass,” Lance admits finally. He wrestles the chopped roots out of Keith’s hands and practically dunks them in the pot, turning the heat back up. Keith smears his starch covered hands on his shirt in revenge (and then wisely takes three quick and giant steps back, well out of backhanding range).

“But there are too many paladins,” Keith points out. “You said it yourself.”

Lance grabs a dishtowel, twisting it menacingly in his hands. Keith tries not to think about the scar he knows Hunk has from when Lance snapped a towel at him when they were kids, wrestling in the McClains’ kitchen. He fails.

“Do you actually have any braincells left in your head at all?”

“Yes, jackass. That’s why I did the math. I leave and the numbers add back up. Problem solved.”

“You leave and Voltron falls apart,” Lance snaps. “So maybe crunch those numbers again.”

Keith stills. Lance steps towards him, still glaring, still menacing, but he doesn’t move — he holds Lance’s gaze, searching his dark eyes, looking for the words he isn’t saying. Because Keith…Keith isn’t the one holding Voltron together. There was a reason his heart caught in his throat when Lance came to him downtrodden and talked about being a seventh wheel. There’s a reason his duffel is packed, a reason he’s talked to Kolivan. He knows who needs to step aside.

“You just don’t get it,” Lance says, frustrated. He takes another step.

“You talk to us about teamwork all the time.”

Another step.

“You’re favourite thing to whine about is the bonding moment.”

Another step, this time as he pitches his voice high and mocking, flapping his hands.

“You never shut up about training as a group.”

One final step and he’s toe to toe, shoes to boots, nose to nose. Keith realises, startlingly, that they’re the exact same height, now.

“We are a crew, imbécil. Team, group, boyband. Whatever you wanna call it. All for one and one for all. The whole nine yards, all that cheesy bullshit.” He pokes Keith hard in the chest. “You don’t get to ditch.”

“But it makes more sense,” Keith argues, weakly and half-desperately. “We only have so many resources. If I can be useful at the Blades —”

“Fuck the fucking Blades.”

Keith deflates. His hand comes up to stop Lance’s jabbing finger, curling around his knuckles. Lance softens, slightly.

“I just want to be as useful as I can be.”

“And if you’re enough as you are?” Lance asks quietly.

Keith opens his mouth, but stops, automatic I’m not dying in his throat. For the first time in his life, it doesn’t seem like the truth, with the determined set to Lance’s jaw and the sliding of their fingers together, gripping tightly.

“Then I guess I’m staying,” Keith breathes.

Lance nods. “Good.”

Keith notices his hands are kind of clammy. His forehead, too, is a little sweaty. The air between them feels hot. Keith swallows.

“Your stew is on fire,” he croaks, voice rough.

Lance drops his hand, cursing.

“Oh — por amor de dios, hablas en fucking serio —”

———

At dinner, Keith eats his burnt stew without a word of complaint. When Lance drags him to the sink to help clean up, after, even though it’s not his turn, he goes, and he lingers too close and too long, and he’s grateful that the duffel he packed to leave home for good is laid emptied on his bed when he turns in for the night.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad and Belly beach scene but it’s reader instead of Belly. They kiss and it’s emotional and I was really hoping their would kiss! So happy she and Jere didn’t!

The beach scene had me screaming!! They finally used snow on the beach <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Leave me alone,’’ you slurred, your back turned to Conrad as you watched the waves crash over your feet. 

Coming to the beach in your intoxicated state was far from wise — an outright perilous choice. However, reason and prudence had abandoned you at this moment, too drunk to properly think.

‘’I can’t,’’ he responded. 

His footfalls reached you, his presence palpable and audible in the water. Without preamble, Conrad hoisted you over his shoulder like a potato sack and took you out of the ocean.  

‘’No! Conrad! Put me down,’’ you demanded the moment your feet left the ground. ‘’Just put me down.’’ 

‘’You’re drunk.’’

‘’Put me down!’’ You hit at his back as he walked up the beach.

‘’I’m not gonna put you down.’’

‘’Conrad, let go!’’ 

He did, letting you down on the sand ungracefully. 

You glared at him and dusted the sand off your shorts. ‘’Just go.’’ 

He extended his hand to help, but you smacked him off. ‘’I’m not leaving you.’’

Those next words would never have come out if you hadn’t drunk so much of the bottle left forgotten in the sand.

‘’But you already did,’’ you let slip, standing up with a little bit of struggle. You felt tears coming as you looked at Conrad, memories of that night coming back in flashes. ‘’Why didn’t you tell me you went to Jeremiah about us? Why?!’’ 

When he showed up to your house in October, all he said was that Jeremiah had moved on and was seeing other people. He didn’t tell you that he asked for his brother’s blessing despite knowing how hurt Jeremiah was about the situation. Coming from someone who never talked to anybody about his feelings, it meant a lot to you that he talked to Jeremiah. He fought for you. He was serious about you.

‘’I don’t know!’’ Conrad blurted in response, genuinely not knowing why he kept this from you. 

‘’If I had known that you had done that, that you cared that much about me and about us— If I had known, then I would have fought for you.’’ Tears blurred your vision, distorting his image.

Conrad looked down at you confusedly. ‘’What do you mean?’’ 

‘’I mean I would have fought for us. At prom, and at the funerals…’’ A tear slipped down your face, but you didn’t wipe it. ‘’And I would have been there for you through everything.’’ A sob left your lips, your heart breaking over the boy you swore you would never cry for again. 

‘’I thought you knew. I thought you knew,’’ Conrad repeated, his deeply buried feelings starting to come through his walls. ‘’From the moment we kissed on the beach I thought you knew.’’

‘’Why did you throw it all away? Why, Connie?’’ You reached for him, then pushed him away, undecided if you wanted him to hold you in his arms or to hit his chest in anger. ‘’I…I thought that we loved each other.’’

‘’We did,’’ he confessed for the first time, swallowing thickly. ‘’I still do.’’ 

Tears welled up in Conrad's eyes as he looked at you, his defenses crumbling under the weight of his emotions. The tension in the salt air was palpable, a mixture of regret, longing, and the weight of unspoken words hung between you.

‘’Then why, Conrad?’’ you choked out, your voice trembling. ‘’Why did you let me end things? Why did you get in your car at my prom? Why didn’t you fight for us?’’

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek gently. You didn't pull away, torn between the anger you felt and the overwhelming surge of emotions that his confession had stirred within you. 

‘’Because I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I kept disappointing you…’’ 

Conrad did disappoint you on prom night, but not for the reasons he thought. You didn’t care about the corsage or if he wasn’t in the mood to dance all night. You would have settled for just a few dances if that’s all he was able to give you. His head was elsewhere and you understood that. Yours would be too if your mother was terribly sick and approaching her last days.

You wanted to tell him that, but you were drunk and standing way too close to Conrad to make any rational decisions…so you closed the remaining space between you and kissed him.

—

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[beiasluv]

sully boys walked on you changing 😳

a/n: i am out of ideasss, lmk if you have some :) anyways, enjoy! :)

masterlist

although the na’vis are not known for their coverage in clothing pieces, they have a time for changing things up.

i swear they are putting so much trust in their piece of clothing, like neytiri’s top is holding on for its dear life.

jake (2009)

“hey, y/n um- OM MY FUCKING-“

“HEY! JAKE GET THE FUCK OUT!” you covered your bare chest and turned away from him. “GET OUT! LEARN HOW TO KNOCK FOR MY SAKE!”

“so- sorry!”

“GO!”

“y- yes! going now,” he closed the curtain slowly.

“no peaking!”

stares a moment before going out the tent. he is doing that shOOk face before collecting his senses.

definitely smirking to himself behind the curtain

jake is definitely a sweet guy and a consent king, but he can’t help himself sometimes, y’know. getting those free views is not something he’ll see everyday, might as well take advantage of it.

he tries to kill his thoughts but those pictures flash over and over he had to beat himself to it.

definitely have to bonk his head to get some senses back. he’ll be so flirty at first, but he’ll become so shy afterwards

definitely thinking about you before going to bed. he’ll be a drunk person in love, imagining your embrace during the nights.

tails wagging and everything when he daydream about you.

can’t even look at you in the eyes for a week, i guess. he was so ashamed but he can’t help himself teasing you of it 😈

the sweetest boy 100% tho. he’ll even comfort you.

“hey, y/n, i know i can be a wuss sometimes but you don’t have to be embarrassed to me. I know i’m an idiot but you have a really sweet body, don’t think i am a creep, but i think every part of you is perfect, and i mean it,” he tucked a hair behind your ear.

neteyam

his father’s son 100% a flirty boy

“y/n, i was wondering- OH HOLY- nice views”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, GET OUT!”

“okay, okay, going now, you should wear that more, or should i say i like it off,” he snickered behind the curtains.

“YOU- son of a- please, get out!”

he is so sweet about it tho. he’ll apologize afterwards 🥺

he’ll hug you whenever he can 100% and shower you with comforting words. maybe he can shower you with seductive compliments *AHEM*

“i know I’m an idiot, y/n, but you are so cute for me, and i mean it, okay?” “never let anyone sees you like that, because you are my little potato and mine.”

but neteyam being neteyam, he’ll throw out a joke afterwards like

“next time call me, I’ll help you change.” *wink* *wink*

he’ll daydream about the scene that flashed against his eyes, he wouldn’t complain about it. just basically dozed off in the middle of the day, drooling and everything, and people around him were worried asf. “tf is wrong with his dude.”

wanders to those deep dark waters that he know he shouldn’t go there. definitely cringe at himself and smack some senses back.

then he always learned how to shout before going in, which other people thinks it’s weird why he started doing it now, after all these years.

when he knows you are inside he’ll never miss a chance to tease you.

“hey, y/n! watch out for a handsome boy going in, he might see some views.”

“oh, shut up.”

lo’akkk

my boyyyy, he is flustered to the flustered

“y/n, i wanted to ask- AH- WHAT-“

“OH MY GOODNESS, please, get out!”

“I’m so sorry!”

his face is so red that people walking past the tent would ask if he is okay💀 he’ll be so flustered he couldn’t even answer them.

people got worried so they called jake to see💀

“lo’ak! what happened, did you do something?” he grabbed his son and shook him.

“no-nothing dad! let me go!” he refused to stay in his embrace.

“then tell me what happened!”

“MR.SULLY, HE SAW ME CHANGING! IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” you quickly got out of the tent. lo’ak’s face turned even redder and his body’s temperature is rising rapidly.

the fact that, I am telling you, jake died laughing inside. he was like- “HUH” and then “HAHAHSHSHHA”

lo’ak couldn’t be more embarrassed, but he was met with your comforting words later on. you went to see him in his tent alone, choosing wisely to bring a shawl to cover your shoulder

“hey, lo’ak, are you feeling better?” you placed your hand on his shoulder. “look, i’m sorry-“

“no, please, i should be the one apologizing,” he turned to look at you, instinctively looking down first but panicked and looked up. “I’m sorry for reacting like that, your body made me think things i never imagined- BRAH EW WHAT DID I JUST SAY.”

“it’s okay,” you giggled. “glad i can help.”

“NO- I SWEAR I AM NOT A CREEP!”

“YOU ARE MY CREEPER,” a peck on his lips. muah.

today’s a great day to try something new! and take care! 🤍

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

[donutz]

Shrimpo confession + Headcanons!!

You might not read this bcus its Shrimpo, but like... He's adorable..

— Shrimpo warms up to you, suddenly not hating burgers anymore..

Warnings: Bright colors; That's all I think

^^This is you(If you'd like to look that way)

"Does this mean I'm a girl?!" No, if you remove the eyelashes

It's kinda wonky but I did my best ^_^

☆Intro☆

When you two met, you were a newbie. A lot of the toons surrounded you, wanting to see who you were.

Of course, you were shy. There’s 17 different toons looking at you. One of them is looking at you with a frown.

“I HATE BURGERS!!”

You jumped a little, because of his sudden abrupt voice.

"That's Shrimpo."

“He’s kinda mean.”

“Kinda is an understatement. Also it’s kind of, not kinda.”

“Potato potato Rodger.”

After Shrimpo’s hateful statement, you just stared. You two made eye contact, and he looked away first! So you won!

You smiled at him, and he looked away again.

A day after that, you thought—

‘Maybe Shrimpo could be my friend?’

You hung out with Shrimpo, a lot. He couldn’t understand why you weren’t going away.

Why don’t you hate him like everybody else?

As days passed, he tolerated your presence more and more. Like not yelling at you as much. Somehow managing to be less of a hater, and him continuously losing ‘staring contests’.

You could convince him to do arts and crafts. Convince him to hang with the other toons, convince him to not bang his head on the machines. Say, why does he do that?

“... I DON’T… Know..”

Oh okay.

The other toons noticed obviously! Have you seen how calm Shrimpo was around them? Only when you’re around though. When you’re gone it seems like he’s more angry compared to before meeting you.

Dandy was walking around, looking for you and Shrimpo.

"Shrimpo!!"

He was walking around, with his hands on his hips.

‘Where did those gremlins go?’

He looked into a smaller room, seeing you.

'Oh!'

You were facing Shrimpo, the both of you sitting on your legs. With you holding his hands.

“Why.. Do you like me so much?”

“Well, it’s just that I was hoping for you to not hate me. So it resulted in me hanging out with you a lot. Then the more I hung out with you the more I started to like you.”

“It led to love, I guess. The other toons might not like you but I do. I like you a lot actually.”

Looking up from his hands, you two make eye contact.

“I love you, Shrimpo.”

You heard a gasp, but it wasn’t Shrimpo’s.

Sensing who it was, you got up, walking over to…

“Dandy!”

"Hey you..!! The toons sent me to look for you guys!" (That’s a lie, he did it himself)

“Oh wow really! That’s nice, it’d be more nice if you left!”

"... Yeah alright, just meet up with us in less than five alright?"

“Mhm.”

Dandy walked away. Mainly happy because his theories are right, you two do love each other! He thinks…

You turn around, looking for Shrimpo.

“Shrimpo?”

You could see his little feet hiding behind the wall.

“Aww, silly.”

You came back to him, holding his hands once more. There he was, red as ever.

You’d think that if he got any more red he’d cook himself.

“So..? Do you love me back?”

“...YES. LET’S GO” 

He quickly got up and dragged you over to where the rest of the toons were.

Headcanons—!!

Yells at everybody, except you

Of course he still yells at you, but not as much when it comes to the others

He’s actually started to stop banging his head on the machines, or tries to

You’re very important to him, just your presence can calm him down

That’s one of the reasons Dandy suspected he liked you

Because of how calm Shrimpo was acting around you

All of a sudden he likes burgers.. I wonder why..

Minus burgers, if you’re any type of thing, food, anything really, he’ll like whatever visible trait you have

Like if you were a tape type of character then he would suddenly like tape

PDA is a no no, it’s not like an ego thing or like embarrassment thing(That’s another lie, he gets really embarrassed) he just feels off about public displays of affection

He gets pretty cuddly in private, probably the little spoon, but wouldn’t mind switching it

He’s soft around you

It took some time to get him to smile, it happened when you gave him multiple kisses on his face

He was slightly functioning, then blinked away his non functioning self

Before he knew it, he was smiling

You quickly took a picture

Surprisingly, for the rest of the day he was smiling more, not in front of the toons, but just in front of you

He was really clingy too, he hadn’t realized that those kisses were all he needed to be happy and smiling for a day

It’s hard for him to communicate his feelings, you really gotta reel it out of him

He’s very vulnerable in that moment, so try to not make any jokes or else he’ll be mad at you for the rest of the day

One little giggle and he’s out!! Is what he says

Your first kiss was adorable, it was on his birthday!!

Publicly and sneakily!!

He was trying SO HARD to not blush

He started shaking

I don't even care for Shrimpo that much

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

hi! i would like to request kaz brekker x fem!reader where kaz is feeling a lot of pain on his bad leg and reader massages it for him. established relationship please. thank you in advance!

The salve

You could tell that Kaz’s leg had been bothering him for a while now. With the weather changing and the rain pouring down for the second week now, the humidity was atrocious for joints. So Kaz limped and grunted through it. Being in a way worse mood than usual. Meaning that everyone who was around him was catching a handful of snarky remarks for anything. Even breathing too loudly.

You gathered a play of food for him downstairs adding extras so you both could share. He hadn’t been down even once today. Kaz said he was just busy with work but you could tell from the way he was tossing and turning the previous night. He simply couldn’t walk downstairs. The pain had gotten that bad but of course he didn’t show it. His cold mask didn’t slip even once.

Pushing the door open with your hip you walked into your shared room. Smiling at him the moment your eyes locked. Kaz’s eyes caught that spark too but his face stayed stone cold. “You didn’t need to bring it up”, he grunted, turning a page over. “But I did”, you chirped in response, moving to yank that same document out of his grip as you lowered the plate in its place, “Push the chair back and eat”.

Kaz frowned slightly. “Also, take your pants off”, you add with a wave of your hand. “You are confusing me, woman. Why would I eat dinner without my pants?”, Kaz huffed, snatching a piece of roasted potatoe. “Kaz Brekker take your pants off”, you said firmly once more. Keeping his gaze. “Multitasking has never been my favorite thing”, he huffed in frustration but still stood with a grunt, holding onto a table for support. Stoping to breathe. “Let me help you”, you reach for the zipper but he bats your hands away. “I’m not some immobile fool”, he hisses in annoyance. “Kaz, you might think that you can fool me but you’re an idiot here”, you catch his hand placing it on the table so he can hold his weight up while you undo his pants with ease.

“It doesn’t even hurt”, he argues but you only lift your eyebrow at him as you look up at him, “Fine, maybe a little but I don’t need you undressing me”. You only hum as you guide him back down into the chair. Those couple minutes alone were enough to make sweat break out on his forehead. You reach into your pocket, the metal jar of salve gleaming in the low light.

“Where did you get that?”, Kaz asks firmly and you know that you didn’t even need to answer. He knows himself. The stamp on the lid says enough. “Don’t tell me that you went there without me knowing”, you can hear the frustration in his tone. The slumps here had been crowding with new arrivals lately. Arrivals that had been enjoying killing people as of late so Kaz had forbidden you to go there.

“It was quick”, you breathe out, warming the mixture between your fingers. “They can also kill you quickly. Asked for that too?”, Kaz grunted but your fingers pressed on his legs, and his whole body went ridged. “Fuck”, he hissed. “I’m sorry”, you pushed your finger into the knots and stiff muscles. Feeling it gives in. “This will help. The healers are from my old village. You’ll be able to walk tomorrow”, muttering you continued to work your hands all over.

“Not worth it if it puts you in danger”, Kaz argued, his head lulled back. “I would do it again”, you shrugged. “That’s the scary part”, he turned to look at you. The tension in his body already melting away. “Any better?”, you question him, moving to bend his leg through the knee a couple of times. “I would say yes but because you were reckless, I’ll say no”, the side of his lips turned upward and you bit your lip, “What I shame, guess I’ll have to massage your legs some more”, “Guess so”, Kaz shrugged, reaching for a piece of meat pie before guiding the fork to your lips.

[cameronspecial]

Could you make a one shot where the reader grew up with a very loving family (especially her dad) and rafe surprises her with gifts, activities and acts of service that she loves. She gets confused and asks him what’s with the stuff. He says that he’s recently been spending lots of time with her parents and always asks them what reader likes to show that he can meet the bar her dad has set. (And maybe slip in something on how he’ll set his bar with their future daughters and their boyfriends 😈🥹). I always look forward to reading ur work and I just wanted to finally ask cuz you write everyone’s requests so well!!

Setting The Standards

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N loves that Rafe likes to spend time with her parents without her. She finds it sweet that he takes time out of his day to get to know the other people she loves and thinks it is good for him to be around a family that actually treats him with love and attention. Every time Rafe visits her parents, she notices he gives her a gift and does one more chore around the house the way she likes it. A part of her feels like he is trying to condition her, but it wouldn’t really make sense because he is the one doing the visiting. 

One day, she decides to ask him about it. Her parents spent the day with Rafe at her and his shared house while she was at work. They had to leave before she got home because they had to get to her brother’s house to babysit her niece. She places her purse on the side table and pads to the living room. She isn’t surprised to find a box wrapped in flower-patterned wrapping paper and a bow. She approaches it with a smile, tearing into it as soon as she is within arms reach of it. Her instinct to wait for Rafe goes out the window. She didn’t expect to find ketchup chips in the box. Her parents must have told him about how she became obsessed with the snack when they vacationed in Canada a few years ago. Her hands eagerly reach for the bag and pull it open, shoving the red potato slices into her mouth. She moans at the sweet taste that reaches her taste buds. Rafe enters the room with a chuckle, “I see you like the snack I got you.” His feet take him behind her and he reaches into the bag to pop a chip into his mouth. She stares up at him with a smile. “I did. Thank you. What were you doing?”

“I was switching out your winter clothes with your summer ones. The weather is getting warmer so it’s time for flower patterns and shorts, Bumblebee.” He kisses her cheek with his arms around her waist. Butterfly erupts in her stomach. She hates changing between her closets. It takes forever and is so tedious.

“Aww, thank you, Baby. It means a lot that you do all this for me.” She rests her hands on his and they sway for a little until she gets the courage to ask what she has been wanting to ask. “So… I have noticed that whenever you are with my parents, I get gifts and your acts of service are more tailored towards me. I was wondering why.” 

They freeze and he caresses her forearms. “One reason why I love spending time with your parents is that I get to learn small stuff about you that you may not see as important to me. It helps me make you happy and that’s my mission in life.” 

She awws and kisses his cheek, “That’s so sweet, Baby. I wish I could do those things for you.” He brings his hand up to her cheek as a reassurance. “You may not know it, but just being here for me is enough, Bumblebee. Plus, how am I supposed to show our daughter how she should be treated if I don’t lead by example? Because both of you are meant to be treated like queens. I’m just setting the standards.” A heat spreads over her cheeks at the mention of their possible future. It solidifies her belief that he will make a great father one day. “You are going to set the standards so high for her that she will recognize that she only deserves to be married to a king,” Y/N adds. “Thank you for everything that you do for me.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld