#But it never does and everything is perfect except for me and yet simultaneously the other way around-& its the stupid observer thing again

[hootiee]

how different are the anime and manga? are there certain things you like about one more than the other?

very different, like night and day. i'll leave season 2 (kyoto saga) aside and just talk about season 1, since the movie is a side/non-canon story (i really love it tho) and season 2 is like 90% canon (minus the last episode with that scene where rin & yukio talked. in the manga it was a whole mini arc with them talking to eachother amidst a fight with high tension, rather than them just chilling by a river lmao)

the most apparent scene that was different from the anime & manga was the first chapter/episode 1-2, where shiro died. the anime made it into a pretty fascinating & exciting intro to the series, with rin getting hired as a grocery store clerk, and ending with a battle against demons coming after him. where the manga, while still at its core having the same important moments (rin looking for a job, having delinquents jump him, and shiro getting possessed), it was really just a sad scene with no one except himself, shiro & satan bearing witness to the events of that night. out of fear he caused his father's possession/death, he never speaks about it to anyone. so no one really knows how that night unfolded. unlike the anime having the priests see everything (kinda awkwardly) and then later yukio showing up.

the manga really expands upon & fleshes out the characters, whereas the anime (s1) really.. flanderizes them. i think yukio is the most painful example, he is very much not the irrational "all demons are evil" kinda guy, hes truly just a kid indoctrinated into the exorcists mindset since he was 7, but the anime never really showed how nuanced and deep he is, so he became a punching bag for people to easily/mindlessly hate. also, he is NOT a half demon like rin. he's fully human just with some..Peculiarities lol (iykyk)

anyways, blue exorcist truly shines as a slow burn story, we are 145 chapters in (with the next chapter being just a few days away) and have only just now touched upon the aspects that the final parts of season 1 showed. but it is completely different, in almost every aspect. yet you can still see the resemblances to the anime, i wont get too into it for spoilers, but yk the scene with rin's sword breaks? in the anime they repaired it & everything was fine again. but in the manga, rin permanently changes from it abruptly being broken. for better and worse. afterwards, it becomes a whole underlying character arc.

season 1 was like the story's blueprint, its building blocks in a sense. the manga is truly where it shines, letting the characters grow and each have their own moments & developments before things get really heated within it's world.

it also divulges into the lore in almost a philosophical level: what really are demons & humans, are they truly so different from eachother? with rin being the focus of this question as people say he is Both human and demon and yet simultaneously being Neither at the same time.

the world building becomes expanded upon, by leaps and bounds. we see how the order/exorcists really operate. we find out What demons truly are, and their real reasons to be against humans. we find out what really happened during the blue night and what lead up to that. the world feels more open & wide, and everything feels so intertwined.

it also touches upon some VERY dark and heavy subjects, becoming more and more dark as it progresses. from mental illness, trauma & generational trauma to war, suicide, human experiments & corrupt organizations. and yet despite this darkness it still sends a good message that despite things being bad, its still worth it to keep living. and the author just knows the perfect moments to grab people by their heartstrings with it.

s1 is not Bad per-se, sometimes im harsh on it due to me personally being obsessed with the manga's canon. it does have its cute filler scenes (i actually love that rin got a grocery job in episode 1) and its pretty enjoyable as a cute fluffy feel-good anime. i first watched the anime+movie as a kid in 2015 and loved it, but it felt like it had far more potential. which is where the manga DELIVERED, by leaps and bounds.

however, now that the anime is focused on adapting it faithfully, this will change within the future. especially once get more canon episodes compared to the vast amount of manga content lol. but until then, i suggest to check out the manga 🫡

TL;DR: this is the anime vs the manga (in a good way LOL)

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

Will you..? (part 25)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship, selfharm, eating disorder

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

Your drinks arrive and you just can't wait any longer. "Rhea please, you know how unpatient I am" you whine.

"Ah ah, not so fast sweetheart" she teases you even more. "After we've eaten okay?" "Fine.." you grumble.

You're kinda mad because you don't like waiting but you still smile at her. God I love her so much. How can somebody be this perfect?!

"Hey love, wanna share this? It seems like they're serving pretty big portions here" Rhea says. "Yeah of course" you smile. "What about you guys?" you add.

"I think I'll go for number 56" Dominik answers "and I'll take.. This! Whatever it is but it sounds interesting" Finn states. Damian chuckles and waves for a waiter to come over.

You all order and then talk a little until your food arrives. "Yep, you were totally right with big portions" you mock Rhea, cause they were actually pretty normal sized and you needed to order another one so you both could get fed.

"Mh, this actually tastes really good. Anyone know what it is?" Finn asks you all. "Let me try" Dom says excitedly. "sure here, take this" Finn answers and you all laugh as Dom does his little happy claps.

You continue your dinner and chat and laugh throughout the entire time. That is, until Dom decides he can't hold back any longer.

"Rheaaa, when are you finally going to do iiit" he whispers to her, except the whole table could hear it. "Dom Dom!" she scolds him and shoots you a kinda angry and also apologetic look as you chuckle.

"Sorry.." Dominik mutters, although he doesn't give up just yet. "But-" "No!" Damian and Finn say simultaneously. Rhea laughs at Dom who pouts now.

"You know, I'm kinda on Dom's side, I think we waited long enough" you look at Rhea with a warm smile. "I know I- I'm just not quite ready yet.." she says and blushes slightly.

You chuckle a little "it's okay, take your time. Wanna get some dessert?" "Oh oh, yes, I want ice cream!" "Dom stop acting like a little child!" Damian laughs.

You wave a waiter over and order an ice cream for Dominik and a "family surprise" for the rest of you. "I wonder what they'll bring us. I hope it's got something to do with chocolate" Finn says.

Rhea leans over to you and whispers "can you let me out real quick? I need to go to the restroom" "yeah sure, is everything alright?" "ye, ye don't worry" she smiles reassuringly.

You get up and take a step away to make room for your girlfriend to get out of the corner. You sit back down without noticing that Rhea isn't even walking in the direction of the actual bathrooms.

You look around a bit as the boys were chatting about whether you were supposed to eat Nutella with or without butter.

You spot a camera team outside the window. Probably because the whole Judgement Day was there and they finally got to see you and Rhea together somewhere else than on the parking lot from the arena.

The restaurant also got pretty full. Lots of people were there, chatting and eating and glancing over at you every now and then.

"Hey guys" you try to get the boys attention "why is this man standing there with a mic?" "I don't know, let's see" Damian smirks. It's a little awkward but you still have no idea.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please get your attention" the man with the microphone says. "I'm the owner of this place and today is a very special day!"

You see the camera team walking in, trying to get the best shots and catching everything that's being said.

"Please turn your attention to Demi Bennett, better known as Rhea Ripley!" the restaurant owner says and Rhea steps out from behind the corner. "Thank you" she leans over to the man and speaks in his mic.

She walks over to you and you just look at her confused. She smiles from ear to ear and gets down on one knee. "Y/n L/n. I've only known you for about three to four months, although you knew me for a lot longer." she says.

Slowly but surely you knew where this was going and why all the people and the media were here.

"I know, your past experiences with relationships were quite.. Njeah let's say difficult. But I want to change that and I think we've already made a great start. I can't imagine my life anymore without you in it, so.. Y/n, will you marry me?" she asks and pulls out a beautiful, really expensive looking wedding ring.

You're too overwhelmed to think" I- yes! Yes of course I wanna marry you!" you shout and jump up to hug her. Rhea laughes and let's out a sigh of relief. Everyone's applauding and congratulating you.

You both smile at each other and kiss, resulting in even more applause and cheers from the croud." I love you so much, I can't even find the right words to describe it" you smile at your now fiancee. "I love you too, more than anything in the world!" she answers and pulls you in for another kiss.

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

Part 25 and finally you get the surprise you've all been waiting for, hope you enjoyed it ;)

Taglist:@babybatlover @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatonepansexual2000 @nox-fire

[fragrantpines]

Hey. I would like Dezou Chicken with the matcha tea prompt, please! 🥺 I love him so much and i want to kiss my Screen because of him.

Take care and don't forget to drink. ❤️

Aww thank you, I'll be sure to do so 💕 Dezhou Chicken with a side of matcha tea coming right up!

(Link to request and prompt list post)

matcha tea; how and when do they propose to their s/o?

Dezhou Chicken

▪︎ Dezhou is a methodical man. He'll calculate everything down to the last second and take into account every possibility, including you rejecting his proposal.

▪︎ At first, the idea of marriage never crosses his mind, content with the relationship that he has with you currently. However, as years go by and more customers start to mistake the two of you for a married couple, he starts to think; quiet mornings with just the two of you, a ring wrapped around his finger signifying eternal love, your voice calling out his name sweetly before referring to him as husband with a small smile... wouldn't it be nice to make those dreams a reality?

▪︎ Days leading up to the proposal are some of the most nerve wrecking days in Dezhou's life. He's made sure that everything is perfect down to a T, including a reservation at a restaurant with your favourite food and a ring that perfectly matches your taste and finger size (Don't ask how he got it, he didn't ask how the flavour girls got it either). All he has to do is actually propose to you....

▪︎ ... Except when he does, the events leading up to it aren't really as planned.

There were three things that could make Dezhou lose his mind: Fuli, work and you.

Right now, as he stands frozen in the doorway, watching you play with the ring he had been planning to propose to you with next week, he wonders where did it all go wrong? The ring should have never appeared within your range of sight, yet somehow here it was, taunting him under the light as your attention is completely drawn by it.

It wasn't until his hat falls onto the floor with a soft "thump" did you notice his presence. You immediately yelp and hide the ring behind your back, nervously laughing, “Dezhou you're back! How... how long have you been standing there?”

“Um,” Dezhou stammers, his internal clock going haywire. “3 minutes 21 seconds? Or maybe it was 26 seconds.... or 27..... or.....”

You bury your face into your hands, exposing the ring under his vision again. “God this is so embarassing,” you murmur loud enough for him to hear, whether intentionally or purposefully he has no idea.

“I--”

“I--”

A silence befalls onto the two of you before both of you start laughing simultaneously.

“You go first.” Dezhou laughs, gesturing you to continue with a wave of a hand.

You return a sheepish grin before placing the ring onto your palm and facing it towards him. “I found this in your drawer when I came to visit the other day,” you explain. “At first, I put it back and tried not to think about it. Yet, the harder I tried not to think about it, the more my thoughts were plagued by it, so I just... wanted to take a closer look at it, that's all.”

Dezhou stares at you wordlessly, his eyes growing bigger and bigger the longer you spoke. Eventually, he takes long strides and bends down in front of you, taking both of your hands into his with a stern look.

“Do you like the ring?” He asks.

You blink, processing his question internally before nodding nodding. “Yes, I like it a lot.”

With your answer, he exhales a breath that he didn't know he was holding, giving wake to a soft smile. “In that case, will you let me propose to you with this ring tomorrow.”

“??” You raise your brow in shock. “Can't you ask me right now?”

Dezhou shakes his head. “No, everything has already been planned. It would be a waste to cancel everything because of a little mishap.” He pauses for a moment, as if deep in thought before whispering softly. “Also, I want to give you the best proposal I can offer. So, can you wait for me?”

He watches as your face slowly turns crimson, dying your cheeks into a pretty red that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. After a while, you finally smile, chuckling lightly.

“Alright, I'll be waiting, soon to be fiancé.”

[sollysgriefpoetry]

December (2022) (from the archive)

When a prognosis is given

7% survive the first 5 years, fewer the next, and almost none the last

We all think in secret that we are the exception 

But what happens when you actually are

What happens when you wait for death for five whole years and still it does not come

What happens when you wait for death for five whole years and still it does not come but it’s not one of those miracle survival stories

The diagnosis moves from stage 3 

Then onto stage 4

Then with that the label of terminal looms above us all as we look the other way and make jokes that maybe this one will finally kill you

Because you really are impossible

And you’ve somehow impossibly kept up appearances for all of that

Every 6 months would bring another hint at death 

And yet miraculously the only way anyone could know you were walking around with a diagnosis of imminent doom would be from you telling them in hopes that you could show them one of the terrible scars stretching across your belly

But now things are happening in a way that we aren’t familiar with

And it’s becoming clear you are on borrowed time

Did you know the day you were diagnosed and the day I turned 19 coincided?

I sat in my car in the parking lot of the Barnes and Noble sobbing and laughing hysterically simultaneously after seeing you in the hospital

I had never seen you like that before.

I stood stoically next to your bed as you made jokes to me about dying.

I stood stoically next to my mom as she explained the prognosis to me in the hallway and urged me never to tell you

I stood stoically next to my body as the deafening sound of rain on my windshield and the wild screams erupting from my chest created a perfect symphony in the dark of night illuminated by the towering street lamps lighting the parking lot of the mall next to the house you invited us into 10 years prior.

The house that I now think of as my childhood home

I wondered absently when this would stop.

I wondered absently if it would ever stop.

Sometimes I think things were better then.

Sometimes I think it would be better for the worst to happen now when it’s all numb rather than then when it was all forest fires of anger and hurricanes of grief and everything crashing down around me.

Logically I know both would bring horrors I could never prepare for, but I like to look through rose tinted glasses at the what if sometimes.

I don’t know. Call me morbid if you must. A little what if never hurt.

Talking to my parents about death in the abstract is something I find easy.

When the conversation goes from abstract to literal it gets harder

When it goes from literal to logistical it gets weird

Weird seems to be where a lot of conversations turn these days

My mom is the strongest person I know

And I know she knows what’s happening

Because she talks to me in snippets

Brief passing mentions about how we don’t have much time with you left and how she can just feel it

How on Rosh Hashanah she thought it could possibly be your last

What she’ll do after

With increasing urgency I tell her that my brother and I are here for her to lean on

And that she does not have to go at it alone.

She tells me thank you but she doesn’t want to put that on us.

I tell her it’s the nature of growing up. This is just part of it.

And I don’t tell her this part but I think to myself that in this moment her role as mother takes a back seat to her role as your wife

I am a sturdy pillar of support first

And a son second

My brother and I will be here for a long time

We are not the ones to worry about. 

I do not imagine my mother will grieve in the way that widows grieve

I think she will blossom in her freedom as she speeds through the mountains of Tennessee with the wind at her back

She will carry you with her as she flies and release you to the open skies and the crisp morning air as she celebrates the wildness that you held together

She is resilient in ways I could only dream of

I don’t think you would want it any other way

But for the time in between her children biological and otherwise will surround her gripping tightly to her body as the crashing waves engulf the rock upon which she stands

And though we can’t stop the wave through sheer spite we will not be knocked to the frothing waters below 

We have survived this long

And there has been enough tragedy

You called me a few weeks ago and left a message saying you loved me.

Did you know I save every voicemail you leave?

I texted you that I was in a meeting, and that I would call back in a bit. You responded as you always do with these calls which was to say that it wasn’t important and you just wanted to let me know how proud you were.

I called back anyway.

And that’s when I knew.

I listened to someone who wasn’t you speak using your voice.

The tones were the same but the words did not connect.

I listened as you started crying but I couldn’t tell why so I frantically offered words of comfort about how I’ll be up in a few weeks for the holidays and we’ll see each other soon and how you’re always welcome down here and we’d love to have you over for dinner some time

I suppressed the rise of something akin to terror in the back of my throat 

The unique terror from finally confronting a drawn out fate

The scream I suppressed after hours of crying 5 years ago in that car in that godforesaken parking lot

And the sinking feeling that it’s finally begun

The beginning of the end

And the unfortunate thing is that I really cannot imagine a world without you in it

I cannot fathom that you would ever be gone 

And that it would be so soon

And that the 5 years after a prognosis like the one you had would still not be enough time

I am not a praying man

At least not in the way you do it

But we can only hold your hand as you go 

and because we can’t I hope God holds your hand every moment afterward

You have done more than enough here on earth and I think He owes you at least that

[duckielover151]

Top 3 Anime I Watched in 2022

3) Occultic;Nine

Episode Count: 12

Release Year: 2016

Summary: Nine strangers with wildly different views on the supernatural are brought together by a murder... and their investigations lead them to a cult testing the boundaries between life and death.

Okay, I've got to admit, this show is kind of a mess. Its pacing is ridiculously fast. There are a few things left unanswered completely, but they do (just barely) manage to cram in an ending. There are a ton of characters and not all of them are explored super well...

But I've got to say, even with its flaws, it still made the list of my favorite shows I watched this year just based on how much I enjoyed it. I love supernatural mysteries. It could be super dark and chilling. Its opening is fucking fantastic. I watched this one back in January, and it's still a song I go back to listen to just because on a regular basis. It explores a lot of interesting ideas in that realm where science and magic intersect. And rushed as it may be, it does kind of get a happy ending.

2) Monster

Episode Count: 74

Release Year: 2004

Summary: A brilliant Japanese neurosurgeon working in Germany in the 1980s is caught on the wrong side of his hospital's twisted politics. He disobeys a direct order to save someone of high social standing, choosing to operate on a young boy instead. But then that young boy grows up to be a serial killer, and Dr. Tenma-- framed for his crimes-- devotes his life to tracking the boy down and putting an end to the evil he feels responsible for creating. But in the process, he learns that the boy may not be the real monster here.

Monster is simultaneously a hidden gem-- it's a little hard to get your hands on so not as many people have seen it-- and also really highly regarded. I'd heard almost nothing but praise for this tale and the way it explores good and evil.

It's a long one. And a slow one. And it could be a little dry at times. I have to admit, I didn't particularly enjoy the experience for a lot of the first 40 episodes or so. And yet it still makes my top 3 list.

It really did pick up in the latter half, which helped. But mostly... That ending was everything I'd been promised and more. And it's really stuck with me. (This is another one I watched early into the year-- right after Occultic;Nine, actually.) The story it ends up telling is very different from the story it originally seems like it's going to be. The way my opinions on just about everything changed by the end really caught me off guard. And I love a story that makes me think.

And finally...

My absolute favorite anime I watched for the first time in 2022:

1)Yona of the Dawn

Episode Count: 24

Release Year: 2014

Summary: A spoiled young princess is chased out of her kingdom when her beloved cousin and childhood friend murders her father and usurps his position as king. She meets an oracle who proclaims her to be the reincarnation of the fabled Crimson Dragon King, and she sets out on a journey to collect the other four dragon warriors and learn to be a warrior and a proper ruler herself in the process.

Where to start? Great characters. Beautiful animation. A gorgeous soundtrack. There's romance and comedy and action and fantasy all rolled into one tale here. A strong female lead who's still flawed and starts out weak but grows so much over the course of these 24 episodes that it's impossible not to want to stand behind her and see her achieve everything she's fighting for...

This series was literally perfect as far as I'm concerned, except for the fact that it's incomplete. The manga is actually still on-going, but it makes me want to riot that a first season that was this good never got a follow-up.

And...

And lets give some Honorable Mentions to...

The 2019 Fruits Basket remake that I'm still slowly working my way through. (The adaptation I dreamed of for like 15 years after seeing how badly the first one fell short.)

And The Quintessential Quintuplets. I literally just got to see the movie that concludes the story in theaters a few weeks ago, and it got a really great ending. It came together really well, and I never expected to get this attached to them all when I first started season one. I honestly wasn't that impressed in the beginning, but now I'm sad to say goodbye.

[miraculouscontent]

“Sentibubbler” summary? “Sentibubbler” salt?

Why not both at the same time?

Something a little experimental, though also somewhat reminiscent of some of my past videos. Calling it “summasalt” for now, based on the word “somersault” because this episode was an exercise of my patience.

It’s basically just me going through the episode with my usual episode summary, but salting along the way instead of making you guys read a wall of text without any images or clips or me making snarky comments.

(By the way, yes, I did in fact have caffeine before recording.)

script below for anyone who wants/needs it:

"Sentibubbler" begins with Marinette having food with the Cesaires and I already know this isn't real because Marinette is actually getting to interact with her best friend's family. That's only happened, like--when, two episodes of Season 2? [”Sapotis” and “Anansi”]

Marinette sees Trixx and points out how they're supposed to be a secret, and Alya asks why while calling Marinette "Ladybug." Marinette plays dumb but is told by Nino that everyone already knows her secret. Chloe is also there, chiding Marinette for her identity rule - it's not Marinette's rule but after "Reflekdoll" I've just gotten used to Marinette being blamed for things she didn't do - and Marinette goes to question Chloe's apperance when there's a knock on the balcony door. Alya invites Shadow Moth in and--[Shadow Moth has to duck to come inside]--huh, I thought Sole Crusher was seven episodes ago.

Anyway, now obviously, Marinette is just being ridiculous and overemotional as usual, because why would Marinette ever think that Alya would reveal any information to--["Feast"]--oh yeah, that's right.

Tikki doesn't transform Marinette and says that Marinette shouldn't have trusted Alya with her secret. Enter Chat Blanc, who says that they can be together now without any secrets. Not really sure what this episode is aiming for with the mixed message of "your identity rule sucks" but also "your fault for trusting someone instead of having a mental breakdown," but a’ight. Trixx also gets another dig in on Marinette for giving Alya the fox miraculous.

Marinette wakes up from her nightmare and panics, but Tikki reassures her that Alya is loyal. [”Chameleon”] Mm. Also, that kind of support might've been nice from Tikki literal seasons ago when Marinette could've used a confidant.

Wayzz - I swear, they've had eyelashes more often than not in this season - points out that Trixx is mischievous and Xuppu talks about Trixx being the cause of the Loch Ness monster rumors, which worries Marinette further. Marinette runs out in her pajamas and I can already predict that neither Tom nor Sabine are going to check on her later or care.

Marinette finds the Cesaires looking for something, their words vague enough for Marinette to think that they're talking about Trixx. Alya brushes Marinette off and tells her to help with looking instead of lecturing her.

Marlena makes a comment that reminds Marinette of her nightmare, only increasing Marinette's stress. A tarantula crawls up a ladle and Marinette freaks out when she sees it, which Marlena has a laugh at because Marinette's anxiety, fear, and panic is hilarious, guys!

This is my laughing face. [not a laughing face]

Nino exits, having been too afraid of the spider to leave the room, so Nora compares Marinette to him. Nino tries to play it cool, then changes the subject to point out Marinette's pajamas. Alya wonders aloud why Marinette showed up and Marinette tries to act casual, but Alya sees through it and states that she doesn't usually lose things when someone lends them to her.

I presume the exception is Marinette's trust. OH-HOOOOHHH, we'll get there.

Nora takes a jab at Alya for losing the spider and Marinette drags Alya away to talk. Nino tries to join but Alya states that it's between her and Marinette, which makes Nino sad.

Nino, does the phrase "guys' time" ring a bell by any chance?

Marinette is explaining her nightmare and is simply told to calm down by Alya, though Marinette is briefly startled by a phone ringing. Marinette puts together what she knows that Shadow Moth knows, including that Alya is Rena Rouge, adding on that Shadow Moth could steal the fox necklace if he figured out that Alya has it permanently. Alya reassures her that no one will ever know and Marinette states that this must include Chat Noir. Alya agrees and brings attention to the fanny pack around her waist, which Trixx has been hiding in, and Marinette has Trixx promise not to show up at the dining table like in her nightmare. Tikki tells Marinette that everything will be fine and Marinette admits that it was silly of her to worry, which it was! ...If you ignore all the anxiety, mental scarring, and constant pressure to be perfect or risk Paris lighting itself on fire, much like I presume they accidentally did with their original script for this episode.

Alya tells Marinette to trust her and also herself - I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Alya, thank you - then Alya loses her temper at the phone continuing to ring. She leaves to find an empty living room, then answers the phone only to hear Shadow Moth on the other line. Alya turns upon hearing Marinette scream to see that Marinette has been trapped in a bubble. Cue the reveal/return of the Bubbler, who is definitely Nino akumatized and not--like--a sentimonster, because the episode didn't spoil it at all with the title of Sentibub--

show, this is freaking embarrassing. Why even bother akumatizing someone when you can mold a sentimonster with the exact power you want?

At least they reveal it quickly, though that also means I have to live with the knowledge that Shadow Moth wINKED AT ALYA, NO.

Anyway, Shadow Moth tells Alya that he wants her to betray Ladybug. Marinette, meanwhile, is panicking over being unable to transform while in public, whereas Tikki remains calm and reassures her that Alya will figure something out and it's why Marinette gave Alya the fox miraculous in the first place.

Weird, I thought it was for the show to continuously validate Alya as a worthy choice for a confidant despite repeatedly covering up her sINS and so the show can push for more anxiety on Marinette's part while simultaneously not having to make a new hero model for Alya, which they would have to do if the realistic decision had been made to give Alya a different miraculous due to Shadow Moth knowing her identity as Rena Rouge.

Marinette texts Alya to inform her that the Bubbler is a sentimonster and so Rena can tell Chat not to use Cataclysm on him or the bubbles will burst due to the sentimonster's lack of control.

Hate to burst the show's bubble but Alya could literally see Nino up in the sky and they could see her; the bubbles are in viewing range. Did this even go through a quality check?

Alya goes to look at Marinette's text, but the phone is bubbled away by Sentibubbler. Marinette sees the phone floating by and panics, only to be reassured again to trust Alya and at this point I vaguely wondered if I was watching this episode on repeat. Tikki also adds that Alya has never let her down - [”Ladybug”] MMMM - and Marinette agrees, also certain that Chat Noir will show up soon.

Oh yeah, he exists. Oh no.

Cut to the Agreste mansion where Adrien is watching the news - dude, how is there never anything better on when you need to be told that there's an akuma? here, look, I'll show you [”Silencer” Lukabug clip] there, much better, see? - and it's pointed out that the bubbles are identical to the ones Bubbler had, yet Nino is in one of the bubbles. Adrien readies himself while Plagg is - for once - okay with leaving since his cheese isn't "edible" yet.

I feel like he should be a little more concerned about Marinette being in a bubble.

Meanwhile, Shadow Moth is explaining to Alya that Ladybug will come to give her the fox miraculous due to the bubbled people in the sky - plenty of other choices that aren't within breathing range of the obvious danger zone, but a'ight - and SentiBubbler will catch Ladybug. Alya brings up Chat Noir saving her but Shadow Moth states that she'll create an illusion of Ladybug and Rena to lure Chat Noir, who won't see Sentibubbler coming, at which point Rena will hand Shadow Moth her miraculous. He adds that her loved ones will only be returned once all three miraculouses are in his possession, though if she tries to warn the heroes then Sentibubbler will send the bubbles into space, too far for any hero to save them.

[clip of space power-ups] Hm.

Also, I would've just let her keep the miraculous as an extra bribe since he doesn't need the fox and she wouldn't have time to recharge anyway - at least to his knowledge - but that's just me.

Marinette is relieved that Alya still hasn't been captured--TIKKI, I KNOW, YOU'VE BEEN PARROTING THIS ALL EPISODE, I KNOW--but Marinette changes her tune when she sees Alya blindly calling out for Ladybug's help, unaware that Alya is buying time. Marinette laments the idea of transforming there and having using the rabbit to go back in time to reverse, as that's never a good thing (seconded), but gets the idea for Tikki to take her miraculous to someone else. Tikki rejects the idea, as the earrings won't go through the bubble, and Marinette realizes that Chat Noir is their only hope.

I mean, it was nice knowing them. Sure is interesting how Marinette has only been getting herself into these situations where she requires saving when the show needed to present Alya as a valid choice for a confidant.

Meanwhile, Chat Noir is leaving a message for Ladybug about the bubbles in the sky, saying that he'll wait for her; I already see where this is going and I don't like it.

Alya mutters to Trixx about how they need a plan to release Marinette. Through Alya Vision, we're shown Sentibubbler, a bowl of fruit, and the bathroom door. Alya tells Sentibubbler that she needs to go to the bathroom and - wow, we're really doing this, aren't we? - which Shadow Moth rejects. Shadow Moth is also on top of a building holding a coffee cup which honestly makes about as much sense as the rest of the episode, so whatever. Alya claims that she can't wait and that it'll be awkward for Ladybug to find her like that, which gets Shadow Moth to relent but also remind her of what's at stake if she tries anything. Alya states that she can't do anything without a miraculous anyway, then purposefully falls onto the table, concealing her long enough for her to transform and allowing an illusion of herself to go to the bathroom while she escapes. She detransforms in the twins' room and feeds Trixx with some grapes that she'd picked up.

Alya explains her plan to trick Shadow Moth and Sentibubbler since they don't know that she has a miraculous, though she also has to make sure that Chat won't ruin things. Rena then proceeds to call Chat Noir and claim that Ladybug wanted her to call him with her plan, but adds that it's a two-person plan and Chat himself isn't needed, so he needs to wait for further instructions. Chat demands that Ladybug call him to tell him herself, but Rena insists that she can't, as Ladybug is very busy. She warns him not to use Cataclysm if he sees the Bubbler, as he's a sentimonster, then promises to talk to him later before hanging up.

She uses Mirage again, making the Alya illusion reappear as well as creating a Ladybug. Chat Noir, infuriated at being left out, destroys part of a building with his baton. He then dismisses the action because Miraculous Ladybug will fix it.

Spoiler alert, it will, which is a very fascinating detail! I mean, I can't imagine another situation where a hero did something while there was an akuma going around and Miraculous Ladybug decided to help 'em out, but it just goes to show what happens when you're the writers' pet. Just look a little pitiful and they'll give you all the sympathy in the world.

By the way, didn't expect them to actually confirm my theory that Chat Noir does Chat Noir things because he knows that Miraculous Ladybug will fix it anyway, essentially allowing him to earn brownie points from Ladybug via sacrificing himself regardless of how it affects her mentally, yet here we are and I don't know whether to be sad, angry, disappointed, or a mixture of all three.

Chat Noir sees the Ladybug illusion jumping off and gives chase, refuses to stay where he is. Marinette, seeing that Rena Rouge's illusions are active, panics at the sight of Chat Noir, as the illusion will vanish if Chat touches it.

I like to imagine the immediate concern is the idea that Chat Noir will try to take Ladybug's hand while trying to flirt.

Anyway, Marinette flails inside the bubble in an attempt to reach Chat Noir, while illusion Alya and SentiBubbler get into position. Chat Noir watches what he perceives as Ladybug heading into the Cesaire house with Alya, but Marinette gets to him in order to tell him not to go anywhere. Chat complains about everyone telling him to stay put, but Marinette explains Rena's plan to him. Chat is skeptical of how she knows that, to which Marinette insists that she saw it from where she was. Chat Noir relents with a sigh and stays where he is.

SentiBubbler watches as the illusion of Alya and Ladybug talk to each other, Rena making it look like Ladybug is piecing together what happened and refusing to give Alya a miraculous ever again due to Shadow Moth knowing her identity. She claims that she'll find another holder and give them an even more powerful miraculous, which interests Shadow Moth and gets him to follow after the Ladybug illusion. Once Sentibubbler leaves as well, Chat sees this as his chance to stop the sentimonster, as the Ladybug illusion will vanish if it's touched. Marinette strokes his ego for the token love square moment of the episode, and Chat Noir fights SentiBubbler while Shadow Moth goes after the Ladybug illusion.

I'm noticing a real lack of tension in this episode. Once Alya has her plan, it's kind of a clean sweep from start to finish with no interference or unexpected roadblocks in the way. Even Shadow Moth following the Ladybug illusion goes fine, with Shadow Moth even punching a building thinking that Ladybug actually got away from him.

Dude, it's fine, Miraculous Ladybug will fix it, just put on your best sad face. Maybe Chat Noir gets it from you actually, is treatment from the writers a hereditary thing?

Sentibubbler and Chat Noir are still fighting. Shadow Moth shows up and Marinette tries to warn Chat, but Chat gets caught in a bubble and Marinette apologizes; she doesn't have anything to apologize for but after "Reflekdoll" I--wait I already did this.

Chat Noir uses Cataclysm to escape, only to get caught in another bubble. I'd just like to throw out there that this guy's a hero three seasons going and the love interest for the main character, yet his role in the episode has amounted to complaining about the authority of a hero Ladybug chose, throwing a property-destroying tantrum over being excluded, and wasting his power without a single thought which just got him captured again.

Chat, does the name "Syren" ring any bells by any chance? I'm just sayin', you could always quit. In fact, wasn't it you literally one episode ago saying that you understood if Ladybug couldn't always come get you? Then, after seeing the jump from "Glaciator" to "Frozer," I'm about as shocked as rubber.

Back with the competent one, Alya notes to Trixx that Rena Rouge can no longer be seen by Shadow Moth or else the jig is up. She transforms and texts Marinette to be ready, creating an illusion of Marinette that simultaneously hides the real version, allowing her to transform into Ladybug.

Chat Noir's bubble gets dragged down and Shadow Moth gets SentiBubbler to mute Chat Noir's bubble.

[clip from “Silencer” where Ladybug takes amusement in Chat being muted]

Ladybug uses Lucky Charm and receives a pot, her Lucky Vision spotting Shadow Moth's coffee cup, then SentiBubbler, then the tarantula trapped in a bubble. Ladybug deduces that the cup is the sentimonster's object, then pulls the horse miraculous out of her yoyo and unifies it with the ladybug--oh.

Oh my.

You know, it's times like this where I'm reminded that the show knows nothing about fashion... or girls... or good writing actually--there's just a lot of stuff they don't know.

Sentibubbler does a countdown, then starts sending the civilian bubbles up into the sky. Chat Noir is about to de-transform while PegaBug notices of Shadow Moth's two miraculous, up for grabbin'. She notes that she won't be able to catch everyone, so she forms a portal behind Shadow Moth and goes for the coffee cup first, thus putting her in control of SentiBubbler, who happily brings the bubbles back down at her command.

Shadow Moth erases SentiBubbler from existence though, causing everyone to fall, but Chat and PegaBug manage to catch them. PegaBug de-transforms and presents the Cesaires with the tarantula, which had been trapped inside the lucky charm. Ladybug and Chat Noir watch Shadow Moth escape and Ladybug laments that it could've been the end of Shadow Moth once and for all because it's not a Miraculous episode without Marinette being at fault or feeling guilty in some way! Chat Noir reassures her [*by “reassure,” I mean he might as well have said, “Well, you saved ME, so you did great!”] - wow, that's two token love square moments for the price of one episode, don't I feel spoiled - and Ladybug leaves to retrieve the tarantula's tank.

Rena Rouge is waiting for her and they hug, with Rena repeating that she doesn't lose something that someone gives her. Ladybug states that she never should've doubted the idea of giving Alya a miraculous and Imma just give you guys a counter real quick. [counter that shows that Tikki has complimented Alya four times, Alya has complimented herself/told Marinette to trust her thrice, and Marinette has said that she was wrong thrice]. Miraculous Ladybug is cast and everything returns to normal, with Alya explaining what she did and Marinette being relieved that Shadow Moth won't be going after her anymore. Alya confidently asks if she was smart and Marinette is happy to praise her, confirming it and stating that Alya is a real superhero and honestly? If the narrative wanted to marry Alya this badly, they should've just used some of the budget to buy a ring instead of projecting onto the other characters.

Then again, the apparent budget can't even afford a new hero model nor new akuma to a very noticeable degree, so I guess they're taking what they can get.

Alya praises Marinette as well for her work as PegaBug and they do a fistbump, thus ending the episode. There's also this ever-so-lovely post-episode scene with Gabriel and Nathalie where Gabriel laments the fact that Ladybug never makes mistakes which--I... has he even watched the series at all? Gabe, babe, Babriel Agreste, it's literally part of the show's formula that Marinette makes a mistake in every episode and she felt guilty like a minute ago over not yoinking your miraculouses when she had the chance, where have you been?

But, yeah, anyway, the episode.

Needless to say, not a fan. Like I said, the show seems so intent on immediately validating the choices they make with Alya in order to make her look like a better character. "Gang of Secrets" basically replaced her with someone different at the end of the episode, and the episode immediately afterwards in chronological order, "Mr. Pigeon 72," did everything it could to push Marinette out of her guardian position long enough for Alya to figure out the grimoire despite having zero onscreen experience with it, the episode even trapping Ladybug in a situation that forced Rena Rouge to come into play to validate that decision as well.

And now we have "SentiBubbler" here following immediately after "Optigami," desperate to reassure its audience that Alya is cool, smart, truthworthy, and that not needing to make a new model--sorry, I mean Alya continuing to have the fox--was a good decision. All the while, they continue pushing Alya's flaws under the rug [Note that it’s not even considered that Alya is even remotely at fault for Shadow Moth going after her specifically after her stunt in “Optigami” when no one else but Ladybug and Chat have ever given out a miraculous], hiding them instead of Alya actually acknowledging them, the only reason she did so in "Optigami" being the same as in "Gang of Secrets"; to make her look good while Marinette makes a big decision in their relationship.

The episode tries so hard to drill in this idea that Alya is a good friend who can be trusted, and I'm just not here for how much they try to hammer it in. Marinette's very real anxiety over Shadow Moth's power and ability to plan things is played off as her being silly instead of something to be concerned about, and instead of giving her a hug and trying to help her calm down - [clip from “Heart Hunter” of Luka hugging Marinette] I miss Luka - she's just told to trust and believe and hAVE fAiTh in Alya.

Shadow Moth is an adult; he has abilities that the teenage heroes don't. I'm not even saying that Marinette isn't overreacting [Basically, her concern about Shadow Moth is valid, especially after “Optigami” where her identity was almost found out], but she has anxiety and some obvious trauma over "Chat Blanc." I was already upset that Alya got a free pass to Marinette's identity, but the constant stressing over how much Marinette should trust her just doesn't affect me when I know Alya and I know the kind of stuff she's done that the show blatantly ignored in favor of pushing for her.

But okay, show, I'll give Alya the benefit of the doubt that she doesn't deserve. Let's say that she's turned a new leaf, and has become the reliable, trustworthy, and loyal partner that Marinette deserves. I'm sure that Alya has Marinette's back, and will never go behind said back in order to do something completely unsurprising and wholly indicative of the character I actually know her to be.

Especially not a mere three episodes later...

[princess-of-inarizaki]

hi!! idk if your requests are open (if they aren’t then just ignore this!) but would you be able to write something about any teams you want seeing their sweet lil manager in a maid costume? like maybe it’s the school festival and the volleyball team gets assigned to be a maid/butler cafe and the boys just lose it when they see manager-chan in her outfit

Oh my gosh. Maid costumes. Yes, just yes. Ladies and gentlemen I have found my new obsession.

Thanks for requesting, anon <3

Inarizaki seeing you in a maid's costume.

So school's almost out... But before that, comes the cherry on top! and something most students totally look forward to— the summer school festival.

this is where each club kinda opens up a booth of their own, and the club with the most visitors win a cash prize (I mean, money does seem like pretty sweet compensation, right?)

Anyways !! The boys are really really determined to win. They need funding for stuff like jerseys and transportation to games (so they're really set on coming up with something good)

“how about a butler café?” you suggest, with a smirk, getting the idea from watching black butler a few days ago.

“we can't all be butlers” drawls Suna, his head in your lap. Apparently, he was super tired after practice and couldn't help but settle down quietly during the discussion.

“I'll just be a maid then” you said with a smile. “So it can be a butler-maid café”

Atsumu nods enthusiastically whilst Osamu is already jotting down some ideas on what to serve. meanwhile, Kita is already assigning everyone with duties

Kita: so y/n will be a maid whilst Atsumu, Suna, and Akagi will be butlers. Osamu will make the food, and I'll help him in the kitchen. Aran will work on the counter handling the money. Is everyone clear?

Everyone else: yes sir

So the days passed with Osamu and Kita perfecting the menu and Atsumu, Suna and Akagi getting your help with their butler costumes.

However, you never showed them yours (preferring to keep it a secret and reveal it on the big day) frankly, the boys had little to no expectations regarding the maid outfit. They weren't aware of how maid outfits were seen as pretty sexy, so the thought of it never crossed their minds.

Finally, the big day arrived and you were busy slipping into your maid costume. It had the right amount of frills and looked really cute on you.

“I don't remember it being this short though” you said uneasily with a small blush as you emerged to find the boys. The skirt was only a few inches down your thigh and rode up a whole lot whenever you sat down.

Finally, you saw the boys in their butler costumes and cleared your throat to alert them of your presence.

The boys:

Atsumu: oh my god... Y-you... Oh fuck. I- y/n you're so... (he can barely string words together, what have you done to him? XD)

Akagi: *passes out with a nosebleed*

Kita and Aran: prominent blushes as they turn away, cheeks red and hearts racing

Osamu and Suna aren't there since they're still pretty busy. You blush and hide your face between your hands. “Ahhh you guys stop staring, I know this looks horrible.”

That snapped them out of their trance as they rushed over to you (with the exception of Akagi), Atsumu gently strokes your cheek. “hey sweetheart, ya don't look horrible, okay? Yer' so beautiful, I'm having a hard time looking at you.”

You smile at him as Aran rubs your had reassuringly. “yeah you're gorgeous, y/n-san” says Kita with a small smile (and HUGE blush).

They're all just so collectively whipped as they further inspect you. I mean they never actually knew how lethal maid outfits could be but this was almost dangerous.

“Hey babe, why don't you go show 'Samu your outfit?” suggests Atsumu with a smirk.

“Oh good idea, Tsum Tsum!” you nod as you make your way to the back of the booth where Osamu and Suna are talking. They don't notice you yet, so you walk a bit closer (as Atsumu and the rest stare from a distance, ready to laugh at the boys' reactions).

Osamu and Suna: ...

Suna: marry me. Right now. You and me are getting married. And I'm going to take you home and we are going to—

Osamu: oh my god shut up! *Blushes and looks at y/n* Suna we need to talk about what she'll eat.

Osamu: I mean I'll eat y/n.

Osamu: *stuttering* I mean what we'll eat. Together. After this event. Oh my god y/n, my love?

Y/n: yes, Samu'?

Osamu: cupcake, please step away, I think my brain is short circuiting.

Atsumu, recording: fucking GOLD. He's so flustered it's almost sad 😭

Suna: y/n I mean it, we're getting married and from here on out, you are mine.

The rest of the boys: screw off <3

Y/n: (◕ᴗ◕✿)

Anyways, the event is a huge success, especially since most of the male students (and a few female ones) have the exact same reaction as our volleyball boys.

Paired with Atsumu, Suna, and Akagi's flair as charming and sexy butlers, it's no surprise you guys win the prize money and sell out everything in the café.

“till next year” whispers Suna wistfully as he watches you walk to the dressing room. “maid y/n you will be missed” he calls out playfully.

“tell me about it” say the rest simultaneously.

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @sunasthing @tilli-san @k-sakusa-old

[a/n] this was queued for soooo long, I realised I had set the date wrong so I just decided to post it now xD

[yeojaa]

feed me, fight me.

pairing.  boxer!jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  relationship issues, baby angst, comfort, unprotected sex (please be responsible!).  wc. 3.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif​, always.  💖  author note.  i’m really into comfort fics rn so... 

What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend?  (Aside from trouble, that is.)

The answer is you - throwing punches far harder than you should be, completely disregarding the fact that you’re meant to be playing the part of perfect partner, meeting pads in the sequence he’s laid out.  It’s you throwing a hook when you should be swinging an uppercut.  It’s you, snapping your leg out with a satisfying thunk! of your shin when you should only be thip kicking.  It’s you, not giving a single damn as you take out all your frustrations on someone who’s growing increasingly more irritated by your childishness.  It’s you, blatantly disrespecting him in his ring - sending a reminder that there’s more to life than the four corners of this space. 

How can he blame you though, when he’s the reason?  When you’ve voiced your annoyance more than once - more than twice, more times than you care to count - and each time it’s met with a half-hearted apology (if you could even call it that)?  How can he hold it against you when you’ve asked, demanded, pleaded for more? 

“Cut it out,”  he seethes, quiet, under his breath, irritation igniting his expression, something hot and angry burning in the dark of his stare.  A withering wildfire in an empty field, smoldering coals flickering bright.  It presents itself in how his mouth curls, the hard line of his jaw as bone threatens to snap in half from the tension. 

“Cut what out?”  Your retort is punctuated by the smack of leather on leather, the worn edge of your boxing glove meeting the pad that Jungkook raises just in time to avoid a black eye. 

“What’s your problem?”  How he manages to snipe back - somehow sounding disgruntled by your behaviour - you’re not sure.  All you know is it boils your blood, searing heat within your veins when he effortlessly blocks your next jab.  He knows you well and knows the sport better, predicting each movement as if you’re telegraphing it all with a giant neon sign on your forehead. 

(You probably are.  You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, pinning your heart on your sleeve, your sadness heavy in your mouth.  They wear you, rather than you it.  A weakness of yours.)

“You’re my problem.” 

“Shut up.”  It’s not the usual exasperated annoyance he levels you with, meaner and paired with a swat of your gloved hand.  He’s not supposed to be countering you, instead only blocking the punches you throw his way. 

(But then again - when did he ever listen to you?  When did he ever do what he was supposed to?)

(It’s not a fair assertion.  You’re just mad.  Livid beyond belief, standing atop this hill that you’ll happily die on.)

“Fuck you,”  you snap, offering the petulant comeback in the same instance you surge forward.  He blocks your jab - sees it coming from a mile away - and goes to block your hook. 

Except it never comes, your knee straightening out instead, hard edge of your shin slamming right into the side of his leg. 

He crumples more out of surprise than anything, eyes wide, all the anger swept away by something closer to astonishment.  It shines impossibly bright in his eyes, turning his entire expression upside down when his knee hits the ground.  By how he falls, you’re sure you’ve hit just the right spot, left his nerve endings buzzing uncomfortably as the feeling leaves the limb. 

“Are you serious?”  You know he’s genuinely baffled then, voice slipping, cracking in a way you’d normally find adorable.  (It goes to show how upset you are, the awkward split of his words doing nothing to soothe your temper.)  “What’s your issue?”  He’s still seated on the floor, rocking back on his heels, brow knit in consternation.  It’d take him seconds to jump up - to put you on your ass - but he chooses to remain where he is, staring up at you with that look on his face.

(That look you love.  That you hate.  That makes your insides turn to goo on his best days and misery on your worst.  That you’ve seen every single day for the last three years, as the first thing upon waking up and the last thing before passing out.  That makes you hesitate now, peering down into it.)

(Were you being unnecessary?  Unbearable?  Was this on you?)

“I’m going home.”  It’d be nice to tear your gloves off, throw them in his face and storm off in a huff.  It’d cause the scene you’re hoping for, push him to where you need.  (Because that’s the thing about Jungkook - he doesn’t react otherwise and you’re sick of it.)  Instead, you turn on your heel and slink away, silent as a mouse.  

You’re tired.  Too tired.  Why had you started something you couldn’t finish?

It shouldn’t surprise you that you’re home alone for hours that night, curled up in bed and half-asleep when light from the hallway spills into your bedroom.  It comes with hardly any noise, a tell-tale sign he’s trying not to wake you (or disturb you or get caught).  You almost let it slide when his figure appears in the doorway, broad frame swallowed up by the oversized sweater he wears.

He’s moving near silently, having already deposited his gym bag in the laundry room.  He doesn’t even switch the light on, moving around in the muted glow of the hallway, fumbling as he strips his clothes off and tosses them into the hamper against the wall. 

You expect him to head directly into the en suite, wash away whatever grime he’s accumulated throughout the day.  He’s always been this way, far too concerned with dragging in odour and dirt into your bed to do otherwise.

Except tonight, he doesn’t follow his usual routine.  Tonight, he makes a detour.

The bed dips before you realise what’s happening, grip on the pillow under your head tightening.  Words fit between your teeth, ready to spill out, lash out, tear out like a bullet deadset on landing a bullseye. 

“I’m sorry.”  Two words you’ve been waiting to hear, that startle you enough to throw your anger out the window, tossing them out with the wash.  “I don’t know why you’re upset but I’m sorry for whatever it is.”  He’s speaking into the quiet of your bedroom.  You can feel his hand settled on the bed, wrist somewhere over the line of your spine.  

Oh - he thinks you’re asleep.

“Things have been crazy.  I’ve been stressed.”  Here, under cover of night, he’s vulnerable, explanation tumbling forth uncertainly.  You can hear it in the way the words form, syllables slipping into each other - a sure sign of his exhaustion.  “I know that’s not an excuse, so I’ll be better.”  Though he readjusts, weight distributing differently over the bed, he isn’t touching you.  You can only imagine how he looks, the posture he’s taken on, arms leant over knees, hands twisting together in that way of his that begs a silent help me.  A version of him you’ve seen only a handful of times.  

(Jeon Jungkook does not let things get to him.  Never has, likely never will.  He’s immaculately put together, strung tight by years of growing up too fast, wanting too much and fearing it’ll slip away.  He goes and goes until he can’t any more and only then does he still, crashing headlong over a cliff of his own creation.)

It’s then that you realise while you’ve grown irritated with his preoccupation, coming second to the man you’ve only ever put first, he’s been suffering right alongside you.  Differently, certainly, but suffering nonetheless.  Holding his cards close as he’s always done, shouldering all the things on his own and hoping for the best.

Irritation flares first.  Anger at the fact that he hadn’t confided in you.  It burns bright, erodes everything else in its path.

And then it dims almost immediately, overshadowed by a tenderness that blooms in the small of your chest.  Rosebuds that fill the cavity and swath affection in broad strokes, colouring everything purple - a pretty mosaic made up of equal parts love and sadness.

“You should’ve said something.”  

Bambi-eyed baby is your nickname for your boyfriend - one he reluctantly wears, scowls at when you use it in public - and yet you’re still blown away by the glossiness of his stare, how wide it goes when you roll to face him, simultaneously flicking your bedside light on.  There’s embarrassment crowding his expression, lighting up every handsome facet of his features in technicolour.  He works to hide it almost immediately, moves back on the bed as if he might find himself a home in the shadows.

“I thought you were sleeping,”  he mumbles, not quite looking at you, stare focused on your pillow case, the white linen that you’d bought when you’d moved in together.  “Did I wake you up?”

Though his concern is real, you know it’s a distraction too.  His way of deflecting, shifting the focus back to you.  

(Jeon Jungkook doesn’t live in the spotlight.  Hates it, in fact.  It’s a curious combination - wanting to be praised, to show off, and yet fearing failure so strongly.  A worrying mix when he’s down and an endearing one when he’s up.)

You’re still cocooned, still held far enough away that he hasn’t run for the hills, locking himself in the bathroom to put a further physical barrier between you.  Should you move too fast, you know he’ll spook.  Push too hard, he’ll leave.  

“Couldn’t sleep without you.”  It’s true enough.  Dreams had evaded you for the better part of the evening, held somewhere by hands inked like his, blemished by scars and calluses like his. They’d been kept in his coat pocket, tucked behind his ear.  (So maybe it’d been anger, too, that’d kept you up.  That doesn’t matter now.)

The disbelief is evident, both in his words and the quirk of his mouth, bathed in dim light.  “Really?”

(You sometimes wonder how different the two of you see things.  What a day looks like from his point of view - whether he reads all of your interactions in the same way.  You’ve always been terribly incompatible in that way, opposites in so many respects that it’d frankly baffled your friends when you’d started dating.

You were intent - sometimes too intent - on resolving problems, never letting up.  Forcing conversations you felt you needed to have, demanding answers even before there was one.  He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with conflict, choosing to ignore the things that bothered him until they went away.  It’d driven you absolutely insane at first, made you worry that it was you that was the issue, simply being too much.  

But over time - three long years, to be exact - you’d found a common ground.  Or so you’d thought.)

“Why are you so surprised?”  

“You were pissed earlier.”  There’s a lightness to his tone, careful consideration poured into each word he offers, as if he’s navigating a minefield.  You’ve had these kinds of disagreements too many times for him to believe otherwise, as if his caution is a part of him, stitched lovingly - forcefully - by your hand.  “Thought you wouldn’t wait up for me.”  

“I shouldn’t have,”  you retort before you can help it, still just a little childish, a little hurt.  “But you know I hate going to bed angry.”  Of course he knows.  He’s lost hours of sleep due to your insistence that everything be talked out. 

He hums a noncommittal sound - more of a grunt - and you know your window is closing.  Now that you’re not out for blood, he’s retreating as he always does.  Readying himself to rise from the bed, close this half-read chapter and move onto the next. 

You beat him before he can, curling your fingers around his wrist, over the dangling silver chain.  (His birthday gift this year, heavy metal that’s cold under your touch.)  

“Don’t.”

One blink.  Another.  Slow and confused - deliberately so.  Then he’s looking away, staring down at the ground as if you haven’t just read his next move.  The ring might be his domain but home is yours;  it’s the one place you hold the upper hand.  “What?”  

“Don’t leave.”  It’s easy to read the meaning in between your words, the unspoken request that might as well be brilliant red ink.  It’s far kinder than your usual demands, more pleading than begrudging, more need than want.  

“I need to shower.”  

It’s not a no - which you suppose is a win. 

“Just wait.”  Your request comes with an adjustment, whole tired frame rising from the bed only to sink back down - this time against your partner, your other half, your infuriating love.  He accepts you readily, dropping his ink-strewn hand over your covered thigh.  The weight is comforting over the warmth of the duvet, grounding you in the quiet of your home.

“I’m gross,”  he complains, though he doesn’t make to move away.  Stays right by your side when you drop your head against his bare shoulder.  “Now you’re gross.”

“We can be gross together.”  Because you’re not ready for him to leave you, to close the door as he so often does.  (And, for once, you’re not quite as angry, not seeking an argument that’ll give you the resolution you hope for.  You want communication, open and honest.  You want him, vulnerable and soft.)

A little sigh comes, a puff of breath that expands his doughy cheeks and sends wayward strands fluttering.  It’s less resigned and more endeared - you know how much it means when his acquiesces like this.  

Maybe he wants those same things, you think.  

“Do you wanna shower?”  You ask in perfect tandem, words folding together.  You nod in the same way.

Encased in the small space - it’s different.  He’s preoccupied, back turned to you, shielding you from the slow-heating stream.  It’s as if his mind is a thousand lightyears away, trapped somewhere with the stars as the water rains down around the two of you, fogging the glass and wetting his hair. 

“Babe?”  

There’s a delay before he reacts, peering over his shoulder at you, a faraway look in his eyes.  You wonder what he’d been thinking of, whether he’s still on the same page as you or if he’s skipped ahead as he tends to do.  When he speaks, you have your answer, his words flicking through paper to bring you two where you need to be.  

“Can you wash my hair?”  An indulgent treat he rarely requests, one he seldom allows.  He’s far too on the go, jumping from this to that to spend much time like this with you. 

It’s a sign if there ever was one. 

You reach for your shampoo bottle wordlessly, popping the cap and depositing sweet peach-scented liquid into your hands.  They fold into his strands carefully, tips of your fingers pressing into his scalp, delightful bubbles accumulating between your digits.  He doesn’t make a sound but you feel the way he relaxes, practically melting into your touch as you work the cleanser through his roots, careful to keep the suds from descending into his eyes. 

When was the last time you’d done this?  Weeks ago?  Months, maybe?  You honestly can’t recall.  (Not that it matters now.  You’ve found yourselves back here, terribly tender and intimate in the dead of night.  Almost as if no time has passed at all.)

Silence stretches between the two of you.  You don’t even need to instruct him to rinse, running seamlessly through the routine without hesitation. 

Conditioner replaces shampoo, deft fingers combing through the few knots in his feather soft strands.  Though there are hardly any, you know he loves when you take extra care, treating him in ways he’d never ask for otherwise.  He savours these quiet moments of almost-solitude, spoiled rotten by your familiar touch and comforting affection.  

You’d give it every single day if you could.  Had, in fact. 

That’s what’d brought you here, after all. 

“‘m sorry,”  he says - mumbles really - surprising you as you’re working your fingers into the nape of his neck, concentrating on the tension that’s carved out a home beneath muscle and sinew, turned bone iron-clad. 

“For what?” 

Any other time, it might’ve come across demanding, needing an answer that would soothe whatever inadequacy he’d somehow strung your heart up with.  Now, it’s genuine, asked more for him than you.  

You want to be let in.  Need it. 

“Being out of it, I guess.”  It’s a lot for him - admitting this.  “I’ve just been busy and I guess I kind of just—“  The imposing line of his shoulders rise and fall, a mountain range disturbed by the uncertainty in his voice.  

“Forgot about me?”  You don’t mean it meanly.  It’s a simple statement of fact, one the both of you have to face. 

“Yeah.  Something like that.”

You deliberate accepting the apology and moving on, sweeping it under the rug because he’s already come so much further than you’d thought he would.  But that’s not the kind of person you are, so you press just a little more, stand just a little taller. 

“I don’t think I ask for the world, Kook.”  Maybe more than some people.  Maybe less than others.  “If I’m being too much, I’d rather you let me know than shut me out.”

A sigh comes, so heavy you wonder whether he might be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.  

“No, I know.”  

“Do you?”

(At some point you’d stopped massaging the conditioner in, opting to crowd your hands over his back, working into the knots that run beneath his skin.  He hadn’t been lying - he’s stiff as a board, entire broad form twitching any time you press the pads of your thumbs into a particularly sensitive spot.)

“I thought I’d figure it out myself,”  he reasons, in that oh-so impossible Jeon Jungkook way of his.  “Didn't realise it was taking a toll on you.” 

“On us,”  you correct, not at all tactful.  

“On us,”  he agrees with another sigh, smaller this time, tinged blue with something that feels like guilt and fills up the glass space. 

“We’re a team, you know.” 

(You know he knows.  You just have to remind him sometimes, anchor him with the knowledge that it’s not him against the world.  That you’re in his corner - always.)

“I know.” 

When he turns to look at you - doesn’t even flinch when the sudden movement has you wobbling on your feet, catches you when you stumble - you don’t doubt that.  He loves you just as much as you love him, sees the whole world in the small of your stare.  

“I’m sorry,”  he says again, two hands coming to cradle your face, palms warm over each cheek.  “Just give me some time.”  For what, you’re not sure.  You don’t mind waiting to find out though - willing to weather the storm just to see him happy.  

Jungkook holds you close, threads his fingers through yours and peppers love into the silk of your hair.  Dresses your skin in the heat of his affection and sears his signature into the velvet of your skin, teeth dragging, tongue gliding.  

“Is this better?”  He means how he holds you, how he treats you like porcelain as he fucks you slow and tender, keeps one leg hooked back over his own. 

It’s not that this is the kind of lovemaking you prefer but rather the one you need, with him consuming you wholly, sweetly, filling you with each fluid roll of his hips and nothing else.  No elaborate dirty talk, no overzealous bouncing, just the two of you together, curled against each other like you might not survive otherwise.  

He’s not pushing you to your finish with deft fingers over your clit, not taking his fill with greedy hands.  He’s simply there, with you, feeling every curve of your body as he sinks into your aching cunt and sighs as if he’s in heaven.  (And maybe he is - because where he is could only ever be where you are and you feel like you’re floating, weightless and lovestruck, anchored only to your bed by the hand that squeezes yours and the mouth that purrs your name.) 

“Yes,”  you breathe, exhale in a breath that seems to take all of your effort.  It’s hard to focus when he splits you open so well, fills your pussy and your heart and makes your chest erupt with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

When he says it like that - folds it like a promise and tucks it into the spot behind your ear - you know it’s true.  Even if you don’t always feel it, even if he doesn’t always show it, there’s not a doubt in your mind. 

In all the ways he can, he loves you.  And whether that means enough from one day to the next, you don’t mind sticking around to find out.  Not if it means more of this. 

(Of him, of you, of your life together.)

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

[thefanficmonster]

Phone Call Anxiety

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When wanting to make quality merch, one needs a quality team there to produce and work on quality ideas. Great minds think alike. Great eyes see alike and great hands make alike - the three keys to the formula of creating a clothing line that will be fashionable and up to his brand. Luckily, Corpse knows just who to call.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, I absolutely loved the idea! Sorry you’ve had to wait for it to be turned into a fic for so long, but I still hope you come across it and give it a read in which case I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

He’s not a fan of phone calls. Anyone who knows him even remotely is very well informed on Corpse’s distaste for phone calls and upholding a conversation over the phone. He’d even go as far as to say talking to a person face to face is less stressful for him than that previous option.

But still, seeing as how the person he’s trying to reach lives in a different state and is rather busy all the time, arranging an IRL meeting is basically impossible at the moment, and sending her a text results in running the risk of having the text overlooked or completely lost in the sea of notifications she probably gets on the daily.

Therefore, a phone call was his only proper way of reaching her. And it’s what’s got him pacing the room with his nervousness peaking.  He doesn’t know anything about this girl, nothing concrete at least. He was referred to her by Jack who brought her up in their passing conversation when Corpse mentioned how paranoid he was regarding his upcoming merch project. He specifically stated he doesn’t want anything basic and he wants the clothes to be fashionable, suitable for anyone no matter the age or gender and to be endurable. With all the love he has for his fans, he doesn’t want to give them anything less than what they deserve - the best.

“My friend’s the person you’re looking for.“ Jack said enthusiastically and confidently, “She helped me design the latest merch line I put out and I’ve never been more satisfied with my own merch. I’m planning on offering her a position in Cloak for her birthday. Make sure not to let that one slip out if you give her a call though.“ He warned half-jokingly. 

Bottom line, with that kind of intro, Corpse couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued. And so, he asked for this girl - Y/N’s contact info from Jack before he went to surf through her social media where she thankfully posted plenty of pictures of her creations, never failing to mention specifications in the caption of each picture so the viewers would get the perfect and most detailed idea of how high the standard for her work is.

And so he’s finally managed to talk himself into dialing her number that’s been sitting in his phone for weeks now. As he paces his living room, his nerves chewing him out like a dog would with a toy, listening to the ear piercing ring of the dial waiting to get picked up by the girl he’s trying to reach. 

Just then, Corpse’s head turns so that his eyes meet the glowing red numbers on his digital clock on his desk and he damn near hangs up the call right away - it’s half an hour past midnight. Fast as lightning, he removes the phone from his ear, his thumb flying over to press the red ‘end call’ button. Just then, a faint ‘hello’ reaches his ears, coming from the phone’s speaker. She’s answered the call.

He hurries to put the phone back up to his ear.

“Hey, sorry for taking so long to pick up, I ought to clean my desk eventually cause my phone was literally BURIED under a pile of papers.“ A cheerful sing-song voice rattles his stale and sleep deprived consciousness, as if awakening him from a half-dream state. “You’re either a wrong number caller or a last minute client, aren’t you? Need something done urgently?“

Corpse is taken the hell aback by her strong and downright awing first impression. Not to mention her energy at an hour unsuitable for calls. Lord knows he wouldn’t have picked up if her were in her spot. With the intention of not wasting any more of her time than necessary, he hurries to explain his situation. “Y/N, right? Um no, I’m neither actually. I was told about you by a friend, he said you were a real miracle-doer with fashion design.” He trails off for a second, not completely sure of how to hold this conversation, “Uh, sorry for the odd timed call, I lost track of time. I’ve been meaning to call you for hours now but I...I was nervous.” He cringes the second the word leaves his lips, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he wants to leave her with a great, better than realistic impression of himself but he does and as of now he deems his attempts as ultimate failures.

He hears her giggle from her end, rifling through what sounds to be papers, “Yeah, I’m her. And boy is it refreshing to get someone who’s calling with an actual purpose.” She sighs as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, “And don’t worry about the phone call anxiety. Makes two of us, to be honest.”

This catches him off-guard. The last thing he’d expect is for this girl to have phone call anxiety. In fact, she appears to be a natural, God-given talent at carrying conversations and upholding chit-chat with people. Maybe he’s a little too quick to judge - probably, considering he’s ‘known’ her for less than five minutes and knows nothing but her occupation, her name and the state she lives in - but that bubbly persona she greeted him with gave off the impression that it’s immune to any and all kinds of social anxiety - or anxiety in general. To hear such an honest and counter-to-assumptions confession on her part rattles him a tiny bit. In a good way though.

“How does that work for you? Isn’t your whole job depending on your phone conversational skills?“ He doesn’t mind that he didn’t phrase that too perfectly or that he straight up blurted it out. He knows he’ll be understood. She’s obviously a person who understands. Not just something specific, but everything. She simply understands. How he drew this conclusion and how accurate it is, he may not know until further notice.

“Well...“ she sighs as if genuinely looking to give him a proper answer, “You see, after doing it for so long and having been caught off guard quite a few times with some absolutely absurd orders, I’ve grown prepared of literally ANYTHING and I have a line prepared for anything the caller has to say. I just no longer let them catch me off guard and it’s fine. Helps avoid any possible awkward silences.“

Corpse’s eyebrows shoot up, her explanation only raising more questions rather than providing answers. But he’s not gonna be the annoying dumbass asking those questions at close to 1AM and bugging her. After all, if she agrees to this partnership, they’ll be hearing and potentially seeing a lot more of each other soon. “Impressive, honestly. You’re gonna need to teach me sometime.“ He’s unaware he’s smiling until he catches his reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t bother hiding it. This conversation is actually making him feel good, serving as a reminder that he’s not the only one who periodically goes through turmoil over small things. 

She giggles again, this time the sound manages to draw a blush out of him, coating his cheeks, “I’d typically stray for revealing my secrets to professional success, but I’m willing to make an exception for you...” she pauses for a second as though she’s just now remembered something, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know your name.”

He wheezes out a nervous laugh, realizing he never introduced him, “Oh yeah, sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Corpse, nice to meet ya.”

“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.“ Y/N replies, sounding pleased but teasing simultaneously, “Now tell me, you didn’t call me about my phone call secrets, did you? What may be the real purpose of your call?“

Oh shoot, he himself almost forgot what he was calling for. Luckily, the reference designs displayed on his computer screen remind him. “Right, well, I’ve been thinking of launching a new merch line either this month or the next, depending on how long the procedure will take, and I needed someone great on my team to make some merch actually worth the money people are paying for it. And, as I said, I was told you were in that ‘someone great’ category.”

“Told by who, if you don’t mind me asking?“ She briefly cuts him off, her voice now giving away the fact that she’s half-absent-minded in this conversation, added evidence be the ruffling of more papers on her end.

“Jack. I mean, Sean. You know, Jacksepticeye.“ Corpse explains, contemplating whether he should’ve ratted Jack out like that. Hearing the sound of delight Y/N lets out eases his worries ASAP though.

“Oh Gosh, I haven’t seen that cutie in so long! He’s like a brother to me so a friend of Jack’s is a friend of min-“ this time she cuts herself off so abruptly Corpse thought the line was cut or she hung up on him. She doesn’t let him wonder for long though, “Wait, wait, wait....Merch? And you’re friends with Jack?“ She pauses for a second once again, once again not a long enough second for Corpse to speak up. “You’re a famous YouTuber, aren’t you?“

He was completely unaware of the fact Y/N hadn’t realized he was someone famous yet. In fact, he didn’t think of it because he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to her considering she’s friends with Jack-fucking-septiceye! In his mind, his ranking is far lower than Jack’s - despite that mindset being absurd - so the last thing he expected was for her to have some sort of impressed reaction to have been talking to him on the phone this whole time. Hell, she doesn’t even know his full YouTube name or what kind of content he produces.

“WAIT!“ She shouts urgently, startling him a tiny bit, “You’re Corpse Husband, aren’t you? Oh my God, yes you are, how didn’t I put it together sooner? Ah crap, I really need more coffee for this.“

“No! No, you need more sleep.“ Corpse hurries to correct her but is very clearly ignored or overlapped with the many sounds that are coming from her end, “What are you doing?“

“You’re getting the first rough sketch of a design by tomorrow morning.“ She says, taking a sip of whatever beverage she’s acquired for the purpose of keeping her awake, “You go ahead and get some sleep, I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about it.“

“I’m not worried about the design.“ He hurries to say before she, God forbid, hangs up on him, “It’s 1AM, woman, you need sleep! I don’t need those designs done by tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even need them this week!“

“You don’t, but I do.“ Y/N says, sounding almost breathless because of what seems to be overwhelming excitement, “You don’t get it - I’m designing merch for Corpse fucking Husband! You have any idea how crazy that is?“

“I personally would say it’s underwhelming. I mean, I’m no Pewdiepie, after all.“ He says, now sat at his desk with his free hand rubbing his temple as he stares at the designs he’s pulled up on his screen, ones he probably won’t need given that he’s now working with a professional.

“Oh, shut it.“ She chuckles, “Shut it and get some sleep, ok? I’ll talk to you in the morning.“

“Noooo...“ He leisurely stretches the word, “Tell me, Y/N, do you have Discord?” She clicks her tongue instantly, giving him a signal that the question he’s asked is bordering into the territory of ridiculous. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Alright then, lemme find you. If we’re partnering up on this, we’re both staying up.”

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t fully trust me with this? Like, I won’t be offended, I get it.“ She murmurs in-thought, the sound of clicking evident on her end. 

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t want me bothering you and want me to leave you alone?“ He mimics her statement, smirking to himself as he pulls up Discord, knowing he’s already won.

She huffs and tells him her Discord info, quickly adding a small comment, “...but only because great minds think alike. I know we’ll be getting along on this design pretty nicely.”

“Yeah, yeah, right, sure, whatever you say.“ He laughs, “Accept my friend request and let’s drop this phone call.“

“Hey! - um, before we do that, I just wanna say a quick thank you.“ Y/N murmurs quietly, as if half-hoping he doesn’t hear her.

“For what?“ Corpse asks, his brows furrowing, unsure if they’re on the same page about this gratitude.

“For never once triggering my phone call anxiety.“ She admits, “I mean, I know I said I have lines prepared for every conversation scenario possible, but you totally caught me off-guard.“ She giggles a tiny bit, now sounding dangerously close to nervous, “But, not in a bad way, if that makes sense. Sorry if it doesn’t, I need more coffee.“

“No, no, it does!“ He hurries to reassure her, “It really does. And thank you too. Thank you for, you know, tolerating my BS at this hour. God knows I would’ve ignored your call if our roles were reversed.“

He hears her scoff and can’t help but laugh, “Huh ok, I see.“ She says, sounding greatly triggered and mock-pissed at his confession, “I’ll make sure to think of that next time you call me after midnight. Or at all, ever.“

Laughing his butt off, the only thing Corpse can think of in this moment is:

Damn, this girl and I are gonna get along

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[goldlightsaber]

A Quiet Place Part II

Wow, I just came back from the movie theatre, and I am so pleased that this movie was everything I wanted it to be. So here it goes, another movie analysis/review.

Dare I say iconique? 

There was a lot hinging A Quiet Place Part II. It is one of the first movies “back in theaters.” There was a lot of anticipation because the movie got delayed for over a year. But I don’t think it could’ve come out at a more perfect time. One of the things I noticed about the world of A Quiet Place was that, in thematic ways, it reflects our own. In the height of the pandemic, everyone in our world was scared, worried about supplies running low, losing loved ones, and grieving a life they once had. Like in the movie, we were all forced to lay low by staying inside. Maybe I was projecting my own feelings, but I found it to be highly relatable and touching in that way (without being tragic but rather uplifting instead).

Onto the actual contents, though. The opening scene was *chef’s kiss.* You feel tension right away because of how eerily quiet the town is mid-day, a foreshadowing of what’s to come. Except everything is too neat, the cars too perfectly parked, no windows broken -- we know it is the calm before the storm. I love the patient shot of the stoplight changing lights. We are waiting for disaster to strike but just don’t know when it will. 

The baseball scene subverted a few of my expectations -- I thought Emmett would be a stranger to the family so I was surprised he turned out to be a friendly family acquaintance. This worked well because it probably made Emmett feel some obligation in helping Evelyn and her family later. I also expected Marcus to hit the ball eventually because of the two initial misses -- but then the fireball passes through the sky and life as they know it is over. 

Some part of me expected the flashback scene to be superfluous and just an opportunity to show John Krasinski again, but it served its purpose -- when characters refer to “that day,” we feel the gravity of it because of what we saw in the opening segment. 

I didn’t expect the monster when it first appeared. You expect Lee to have a conversation with the cop, for the monster to show up soon but not just yet -- and then Lee, almost dissociating, is rushing back to his truck after what was no doubt the most traumatic sight of his life at that point. He starts the car with the it’s-going-to-be-all-right facade a parent must don for their child. 

There were several other excellent “oh-shit” moments in this movie. One of my favorites was, after Evelyn sets off the booby trap that attracts the monster (an excellent oh-shit moment in and of itself but already revealed in the trailer), Marcus gets his foot caught in a bear trap. When he screams, it’s like watching a glass you knocked over to the floor crash into a million pieces. My brain was just one big shout of “OH SHIT” and nothing else. Emily Blunt’s acting was superb here and throughout -- the way she played desperation and a simultaneous love for her child was palpable.

Cillian Murphy is an excellent addition to the cast. I was particularly mesmerized by his acting in all the breathy dialogue scenes where he’s protesting against either Evelyn or Regan. Emmett felt believable in all his sweaty, scruffy glory.  He keeps insisting he doesn’t want to help, but, very wholesomely, he always does. He’s a sucker for them from the start. And whether he and Regan like it or not, he is slowly becoming the protective father figure in her life. He can’t get in the way of her plans and her genius, and he can never replace Lee, but the love is there. I love their arc.

And speaking of Regan...

Wow, did the kids in this movie shine. Millicent Simmonds and Noah Jupp absolutely exceeded my expectations. Boy, could Jupp scream and look scared for his life. He was completely believable in his role. And Simmonds walks with this quiet strength, this gentleness. I loved what they did with the scenes where Regan and Emmett were struggling to communicate and she had to keep bringing him back down to Earth. I love the way this movie changes the game for what communication looks like -- there is rarely yelling or even regular-volume conversation. Instead there is sign language, exhales, whispers, the mouthing of words. This creates a mesmerizing atmosphere for the movie. These silences and moments of white-noise do not mean the absence of humans speaking to each other. 

I’m not sure how I feel about the shady, red-eyed community of people on the docks. They looked like they were all on drugs and walked like zombies. And the creepy little girl who trapped Emmett just felt like she belonged to another genre of horror? This isn’t a “creepy children” horror movie, it’s an eldritch monster horror movie! It wasn’t the most believable plot point but I wasn’t super opposed to it, either. I wanted to know more about these shady people. I fully expected them to take Emmett and Regan back to their leader or tribal base, but nope, they were just shady people (the kind not worth saving). 

This isn’t a criticism per say but I was definitely expecting more scenes between Emmett and the entire Abbott family, so I was a little sad they split them up and we didn’t get a reunion. This is a possible tease for a third movie -- as is the expanding world of the island and the lack of a total end to the apocalypse. And, of course, there are hints that Evelyn and Emmett might have a future together -- Evelyn symbolically takes off her wedding ring and Emmett reluctantly but naturally fills the father role for the children. At the same time, we leave off at a point where we can imagine what happens next and don’t need to know more -- it can be up to our interpretation. They can end the movie there, since it is clear that the children have figured out how to defeat the monsters.

And speaking of that, the ending had a very Stranger Things feel to it. Never mind that the monsters from each respective series look almost identical -- the ending takes a surprise turn when it is the two Abbott children who take things into their own hands and kill the monsters while their parental figures literally sit back and watch in awe. I appreciated the message here: that young people are innovative, strong and brave enough to do the right thing. They are capable of great things; it’s all right to trust them and let them take the reins. 

I think the movie’s atmosphere is just lovely. Just because it’s horror doesn’t mean there can’t be scenic shots of a sunset on the beach. That’s what I like about both movies so much -- they don’t feel like most horror movies because they still leave room for beauty and tenderness and hope.

Overall, a very enjoyable film. I would love to see the family reunion if there is a sequel -- and that the potential sequel is helmed by the right writers/director once again! Go, John Krasinski! He killed it.

[cuddles-and-kisses]

So The Cat's Out Of The Bag,,,

Another fanfic for Agapito (an OC that belongs to @yandereaffections) The story starts under the cut. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,908 Trigger Warnings: Subtle yandereness, I can't think of any others

It’s 11 pm. I’ve been avoiding schoolwork all day and I’m in no rush to fix it. I've been writing fanfiction, of sorts, for the past 3 hours. On the bright side, the first draft is done! My back hurts from sitting so long while my butt hurts because I’ve sat on a wooden stool this long. I need to take a break but what to do? Oh, what to do? My weekly planner is wide open on a bookstand to my right. I could be productive, or I could keep avoiding them... So the planner is closed now. I’ve reorganized pens in a pen cup for the seventh time. Is there a limit to how many times a person can adjust a desk lamp before going insane? There has to be something else to do but what? As if on cue, my phone lights up with a text from my Baby. We’ve been official for 6 months so our dates are a lot more casual nowadays.

“Angel, I want attention. Unlock the back door” I’m aware it doesn’t seem like it but this is how he asks to come over. He won’t come over until I respond giving the green light. “Bold of you to assume I’m home and not partying at a random frat house” We both know I’m not doing jack at 11 pm on a Friday. Nonetheless, it’s fun to pretend I have a flourishing social life. “That’s cute. Back door please” Alright, now to get up and- ow, fuck, ouchie, ok, hold on. *POP* There we go!

I should probably pick my room up real quick. I made my bed earlier today so that’s not a problem. The svallerup rug from Ikea collects dirt a lot faster than I expected. Although would he really notice? It’s not bright in here. My dresser by the door looks fine. The futon is in couch mode, so there’s not much left I don’t have to clean up for him. In reality, I’m not cleaning for him, I just like having a clean room. The last thing I do is turn on the fairy lights above my head then light a vanilla candle. I know he’s coming over to cuddle or really do anything involving him getting affection. I might as well make my bedroom reflect that, right?

I half-jog upstairs to unlock our back door. Why the back door? It’s not because I love Jesus. Let me explain. The living room floor creaks way too loud. Also, my parent’s bedroom is right next to that door. The side door alerts our dogs to start pitching a fit. How can they hear it from the opposite side of our house? I may never be able to understand. Moonlight drifts halfway across the backroom. Sparse nightlights cover the remaining needed light. I flick on the backdoor lights followed by opening a few blinds to let more light in. Their orange glow overpowers the moonlight near the backdoor.

For whatever reason, the moon is far brighter tonight. Or my pupils are hella dilated because I’m thinking about my Baby. Either way, moonlight dusts over parts of the backroom and kitchen ahead of me. One last light to turn on. An LED light above our kitchen sink smashes through most surrounding darkness, making it almost impossible to see into the living room. White cabinets outline our kitchen. None of the cabinets match each other in this house. It’s as if this house was built in parts instead of planned out from the start. The counter is occupied with things you’d expect; a bread box, knife set, fruit basket, coffee pot, and an air fryer. Yet, there's evidence real people live here. Crumbs from a snack, mail by the fruit basket, half-empty coffee pot, as well as children’s toys forgotten all about

Everyone else is snuggled up in warm beds, sleeping. I can pick out each person’s snoring pattern when they poke through tonight’s ambiance. There are moments where quiet feels like serenity, others where it feels like emptiness. I can’t decide which one I’m feeling because I realize I’m about to have a visitor. A cup of coffee sounds like the perfect way to waste a few minutes while waiting for my lover.

Coffee cup out of the overhead cabinet. A coffee spoon from beside the coffee pot. Fake sugar off the shelves. Room temperature coffee in the pot from this morning. French vanilla coffee creamer out of the fridge. And just like that, a proper cup of coffee is served. Light reflects off the glossy coating painted over our pale coffee cups. Mom considers it a priority to have everything match or look cohesive. Appearing put together is a source of pride for her. A cup is a cup however matching cups make her happy. My ears perk up at hearing his tires pulling into the driveway. My coffee creamer swirls in the cup as he walks up the driveway. The coffee spoon clings against the inside of my coffee cup simultaneously with the creak of our back gate. All that’s left is to wash off this week’s coffee spoon then put it back. I have only a few more seconds until my Love is with me again. I’m a sappy and hopeful romantic for him, get off my back. He’s learned how to silently open the back door and if I didn’t have good peripheral vision, I would’ve yelped.

Intimate hands snake around my hips as a tender kiss is pressed against my neck. I can feel the tender smile tugging at his lips after the kiss, he had a really good day? His body is pressed against mine as he murmurs “Honey, I’m home~” behind my ear; earning a soft chuckle from me. I turn to face him, wrap my arms around his neck, and greet him with a deep kiss. This time on the lips. “Welcome home, my Love.” He’s so close to me, I can smell the cigarette he had on his way over here. The absence of alcohol or weed stench affirms he didn’t have a bad day at work. I can’t wait until these interactions become a daily occurrence. This man is breathtaking under normal circumstances; but, under the glimmer of moonlight,,, I can’t form a single thought while looking at him. The raw admiration and love this man holds in his eyes? Who could stand a chance against him? Not me. Wrong choice.

His hands linger along the sides of my hips. I hold his arms in an attempt to keep him close to me, just a little longer. “I brought you a few things. I’ll go set them on your desk.” He knows gifts aren’t my thing in spite of that he claims I deserve the entire universe. I breathed out, “Ok, I’ll be down in a minute,” then started moving to get my coffee cup, as well as a few snacks to bring downstairs. He starts heading downstairs content with how flustered I am. WAIT A FLUFFING MINUTE THE FANFICTION IS ABOUT HIM!! I whisper yell ‘Baby’ until his head pops back around the corner. I threaten him to not touch or look at my laptop. It was a pathetic attempt considering what he does for a living. In my defense, I tried. I forgot he’s in essence an overgrown teenager who will do the exact opposite of what he’s told. Wanna know what he does? Grin. I’m so fucked.

Agapito dashes downstairs and leaves me in unadulterated fear. I’m frozen in place, trying to come to terms with my fate as his footsteps fade. It’s not smut or anything, just a simple night and morning routine imagining that we lived together. This is going to be so embarrassing. Please spare me this treacherous fate and undying embarrassment. Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Get your coffee then snacks then, simply, accept what’s just happened.

With arms full of snacks, I shut my bedroom door as gingerly as I can. Setting the cup on the dresser right by the door to make this a little easier. He’s standing at my computer, reading through the last page. Oh hey, he brought me Rolo’s as well as 3 Musketeers. Nice! Oh wait, he’s done reading. His shoulders aren’t tense; his breathing hasn’t changed; all the same, he’s just standing there. “Why did you write this out instead of doing it?” That’s a good question tbh. My Baby’s voice sounds hurt, despite that, he’s trying to hide it. Ok, he needs a hug. Now to throw the snack on the bed. He needs a rib-crushing hug and you bet your butt I’ll be the one to deliver. I tug at his elbow so he’ll face me then pull him into me. His shoulders are right under my chin when we’re facing each other. I bury my face in his neck while my arms hug him as tight as I can. Except why is he upset about this?

His love for me is nothing to scoff at. He loves me the same way he wanted to be loved when he was younger. We’ve figured out he’s catching up from his pre-teen years and onward. So about 13 years without a stable romantic relationship. When he was trying to court me I had to call him out all the time for manipulation. I know he’s terrified I’ll think he’s not good enough. He has episodes of frantic attempts to meet all of my needs, even if it’s not asked for or needed. What is going through his head? Does he feel like he’s not good enough? That he’s not loving me enough so I have to turn to a fictional version of him? Does he think he’s not good enough for me to do this stuff with him? None of those are true, obviously. I explicitly stated that in the story he just read. It doesn’t mean he won’t get stuck inside his head. I need to tell him the truth. Even if I wanted to lie, I couldn’t, he’s a finely-tuned human lie detector. One more deep breath. Squeeze him a little tighter. Look him in his eyes and come clean.

“The reason I didn’t just act these out is because, I didn’t know how to ask for it.” His expression shifts from confused hurt to understanding. I start rambling, “I want to have these experiences with you. I’d give anything to have that life with you but we've only been dating for 6 months and I just, wasn’t sure, how to phrase it.” I’m choking on my own pulse from emotions. I realize I was shifting my weight left to right when he pulls me in for another hug and kisses my forehead. We stand there in each other’s embrace for a few moments before he suggests I come to his house tomorrow night. We both know what he’s suggesting. I can’t help but adamantly agree. Excitement zips through my body thinking about tomorrow night. A smile pulls at my lips as I ask, “Do you mind if I wear this shirt tomorrow night?”

Tonight is about Netflix, snacks, and rediscovering the curves and contours of each other’s bodies. Though, not before I mess up his hair while calling him a butthead. It’s evident his insecurities are still tugging at him. Funny enough, his insecurities forgot they’re fighting against me for his attention.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 25, part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Holy crap, Episode 25! We’re halfway through! *Cue Bon Jovi*

Hunt Invitation

After taking a nice long break to watch Word of Honor pick lotus pods, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli return to stressing over the shitshow that is the post-Sunshot cultivation world. Jin Zixuan has come to invite them to the Phoenix Mountain Hunt, with a special invitation from his mother to Jiang Yanli. Jiang Cheng reacts to this in a mature and reasonable manner, while Wei Wuxian...doesn't.

On the surface, Jiang Cheng has matured in recent months; much more than Wei Wuxian, with his secret burdens, has. But it's only on the surface, as we'll see later in the episode, when Jiang Cheng's insecurity will take the reins.

Jin Zixuan is adorably pleased by Jiang Yanli's acceptance of the invitation. Wei Wuxian is less pleased, but sort of tries to suck it up. 

Jin Zixuan kind of undercuts the romance of his errand by asking Wei Wuxian for the Yin tiger amulet as soon as Jiang Yanli is out of earshot. 

As always, Jin Zixuan makes an impression by being the best Jin currently in existence, but the Jins are terrible. JZX is working to advance his dad's ambitions, and as such he is currently Wei Wuxian's enemy.  

(more after the cut)

Opening Ceremonies

There's a bunch of cultivators arranged for the opening ceremony. Later someone will say that this is more than 5 thousand people. Ok, sure.

As I've said before, it's best to think of it like a theatre production and assume the other 4,900 people are offstage or, you know, painted on the backdrop.  

The young lead cultivators from the four main clans are standing together. Nie Huaisang is trying out some new body armor.

The clan leaders are seated up on the stage, along with Jin Furen and Jiang Yanli. Unfortunately Jin Furen doesn't seem to have a personal name that I can discover. Her title Fūrén ( 夫人)  means she's the primary wife of the head of the family, according to this excellent meta. 

So “Madame Jin” is a decent translation...if you're French?  I feel like instead of English subtitles including borrowed words from French (”Marquis” in NIH), Greek (”Water of Lethe” in WOH), and other European languages, we could try borrowing Chinese words instead. Jin Zixuan's mom is titled, not named, Jin Furen. Since we don’t know her actual name, I'll call her that and abbreviate it JFR.

Wei Wuxian's childishness continues at the opening of the hunt, as does Jiang Yanli's encouragement of his childishness. I know she's had a rough couple of years, and it's understandable to want to baby her little brother out of a sense of nostalgia. But it's not good for him, and she shouldn't do it; she should encourage him to be more mature, just as she does with Jiang Cheng.

War Crimes Contest

Jin Guangyao says they're going to have an archery competition, and they're going to liven it up by endangering some prisoners. These prisoners are Wens in Wen cultivator uniforms, meaning they're not the noncombatants that were being hunted down earlier. But they’re still helpless people in chains. 

There are three different reactions when the Wen prisoners are brought out.  All the Jins are pleased, or neutral. All of the Jiangs, including Wei Wuxian, are upset.

The Nies and the Lans, what we see of them, are a little shocked, but not obviously upset. Based on those reactions, it seems like this is a maneuver that in-world is considered shocking and cruel, but not necessarily unethical or immoral.  Shocking, cruel displays of power are pretty normal in this world; remember when Wen Chao lit a Lan cultivator on fire just to say hello, and nobody complained? 

This whole scenario, of course, has been designed to provoke Wei Wuxian. One major goal of this event, and the whole reason for wanting Wei Wuxian to come,  is to get the Yin Tiger amulet.  Making him lose his shit in front of 100 5000 cultivators is a good step toward compelling him to hand the amulet over.  

We see Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli both signaling Wei Wuxian to keep it together, and he takes a step back and tries to chill.  

Meanwhile, Jin Zixuan seems annoyed by all this, and goes to take a shot at it, making it clear from his demeanor that this is easy and JGY is making a show of nothing. 

He hovers in the air and makes a perfect shot, pleasing most of the crowd and impressing Jiang Yanli. 

Then his cousin Jin Zixun taunts the crowd, challenging anyone to do better.  This presents a bit of a problem for Wei Wuxian. For the sake of the Wen prisoners, Wei Wuxian should just take this taunting and let the contest end, if no-one else is willing to take a shot. But for the sake of the Jiang Clan’s status, and his continued control of the Yin Tiger amulet, he needs to put the Jins in their place.  

Every Day is Blindfold Day

This moral dilemma is resolved with an abrupt tonal shift, where the humanitarian concerns of all parties seem to vanish. Wei Wuxian flirts embarrassingly with Lan Wangji and then goes as far over the top in besting Jin Zixuan as it's possible to go.

The flirting hits differently, incidentally, when you edit Jiang Cheng's annoyed reaction out of it: 

Lan Wangji doesn't seem embarrassed by Wei Wuxian's request, despite it happening in front of 100 5000 of their fellow cultivators. He looks Wei Wuxian straight in the eye for longer than necessary before turning away; it’s not exactly stern disapproval. We’ll get very used to this look, in Wei Wuxian’s second life. 

Fortunately, Wei Wuxian carries a blindfold with him wherever he goes, (gifset here), and he is such a good cultivator he can hit 5 parallel targets simultaneously without even holding his bow straight or tightening the string.

(OP fixed the angle of the bow for this gif, which is why everyone is standing on a hill in the background).

Everyone is pleased by this shot except Jins Guangyao and Zixun; even the Jin cultivators are clapping, and Madame Jin is presumably this happy any time Jin Guangyao’s plans go wrong.

With that they start the hunt. Jin Zixun challenges Wei Wuxian to do the whole hunt blindfolded. Wei Wuxian agrees, but the censorship committee said no, apparently, so we don’t get to see that.

Flute Hunting

We do get to see Wei Wuxian luring monsters into his nets by being too sexy for his robe, too sexy for his robe, and playing the flute.  

We also get to see Jiang cultivators looking puzzled while random monster roars happen in the woods around them. We do not get to see any monsters, which is probably just as well.

Jiang Cheng is annoyed and concerned, muttering "I told you not to overdo it" which means he didn't, you know, tell Wei Wuxian NOT to do this, just not to do it quite so well. Jiang Cheng knows what Wei Wuxian’s abilities are and he is making use of him, as he should, but he doesn’t have the courage of his convictions. 

Tree Confession

Wei Wuxian sees Lan Wangji and starts to say hi, but then he has a desaturated flashback to Lan Xichen telling him to back off, so he stops himself.  But then Lan Wangji comes over to talk to him.

Lan Wangji starts off talking to him about his latest anti-resentment musical discoveries, and Wei Wuxian pushes back, even calling him Lan Wangji, but gently.  Wei Wuxian asks "who am I to you?" and Lan Wangji turns the question right back at him, then waits a looooooong time, eyes downcast, while Wei Wuxian thinks of a serious answer.

Wei Wuxian says "I used to treat you as my zhījǐ" --which, as we’ve discussed before, is variously translated soulmate, confidant, intimate friend--with a strong meaning of "the person who truly knows me." Lan Wangji says "I still am." Coming from Lan Wangji, who NEVER says how he feels about Wei Wuxian or about anything, really, this sounds a lot like a confession of love. 

It definitely takes the form, visually, of a love confession, as Lan Wangji speaks, then gazes at Wei Wuxian while he waits for a reply.  Wei Wuxian's reply is this:

I don't think Wei Wuxian is oblivious (I'm speaking strictly of CQL, not MZDS, as always with these posts; they are different works). I think he loves Lan Wangji back, and knows it. But Chenqing and everything it represents are between them.

Lan Wangji is quite literally NOT his zhījǐ any more, because he doesn't truly know Wei Wuxian right now. He loves him desperately, but he doesn't know about his core, and hasn't accepted his cultivation method.  So Wei Wuxian answers his confession by showing him Chenqing, effectively declining to accept his still-conditional love.

Snake Measuring

Next we get terrible hetero courtship in the form of Jin Zixuan finding snake discharge on the ground and talking to Jiang Yanli about comparative snake measuring. Seriously: that is the actual conversation that they are having.

Jin Zixuan boasts for a bit, and then awkwardly tries to ask Jiang Yanli on a date. When she turns him down he gets mad, because he's a typical heterosexual dude even though he's secretly a delightful person...very, very secretly. Jiang Yanli, for her part, can't string a fucking sentence together to save her life whenever he's around, so she's not helping their mutual understanding. 

Lan Wangji attempts to hold Wei Wuxian back from beating Jin Zixuan’s ass yet again, but eventually JYL wants to leave, JZX tells her to wait, and WWX intervenes. Why doesn't Jiang Yanli have a maid or Jiang cultivator with her while she's on a date, incidentally? These kids are confused about whether they're doing feudal patriarchy or whether they're doing modern social life.

Jin vs. Jiang

Wei Wuxian jumps in between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, which JZX objects to. Jin Zixuan has no fucking business objecting and Wei Wuxian is 100% right, at this point. As soon as WWX shows up JZX should hand her off to her Shidi, bow, and leave her the fuck alone. Instead, he draws his sword on Wei Wuxian, and kind of on Jiang Yanli since she's right behind Wei Wuxian.  Fortunately, Lan Wangji blocks him. 

This instantly blows up into a Jiang-Jin Clan conflict, with Jiang Cheng unfortunately absent since he let his unmarried sister go off in the woods alone with the son of the Cultivaton world's most famous lecher. It looks like it’s a personal conflict, but since Jin Zixuan already told Wei Wuxian directly that Jin Guangshan wants his amulet, any arguments between them are part of a larger power struggle. 

Cousin Jin Zixun comes running up to start shit. Wei Wuxian pretends--I am SURE he's pretending--not to know who he is. The dude hassles Wei Wuxian every time he sees him; Wei Wuxian is a troll, and right now CJXZ is butting in to something that doesn't concern him. Rather than argue, Wei Wuxian insults him by telling him he’s not memorable.

Jin Furen shows up with several maids and cultivator dudes in tow, which is the proper way for a highborn woman to wander around in the woods. She also brings Clan Leader Yao, because if it's Wei Wuxian Blaming Hours, Yao is going to be there.  

I initially found the deep friendship between superhot Yi Zuyuan and dumpy Jin Furen implausible, but then I remembered that my lifelong bestie is a smokin' hot redhead with impeccable fashion sense, while I am a roly-poly nerd.  Friends don’t always match. Also, Jin Furen's actress, Hu Xiaoting, looks like this: 

...so she is actually hot in real life. Not as hot as Zhang Jingtong (who plays Yu Ziyuan) but literally nobody is as hot as Zhang Jingtong. Don't @ me, you know I'm right.

This is a heck of a long scene, so we’ll pick it up in part two! 

Soundtrack: Livin’ on a Prayer by Bon Jovi

Writing prompt: Newly-divorced, cold-hearted CEO Yu Ziyuan buys an apartment next door to newly-divorced, warm-hearted pastry chef ...uhh let's call her Jin Dàngāo (蛋糕), sure. She can name her business after herself. 

They discover their daughter & son are in the same college class, and so they meet up over coffee....several times...trying to matchmake their hopeless, hapless kids, while bonding over their own terrible (former) taste in husbands. Who will Cupid strike first, the kids or the moms?

[bigballofstress]

Pickpocket Part 3(Avengers x Child!Reader)

Description: You have been allowed to stay in the Avengers Tower, but your trials aren’t quite over yet. You still have one major hurdle you’re going to have to get over if you want to make this thing permanent.

To @sweetpeaflower01 and to anyone else who wanted to be tagged in this, I’m sorry I don’t have your usernames! It’s been a while since I’ve been on here!

A few weeks later, I woke up to the sun shining on my face through a nearby window.

“Good morning to you, too, kid.” I turned to see Tony, still lying in the bed beside me with his hand placed gently over mine.  He had spent every night since I’d arrived in there with me except for one, which had immediately resulted in a nightmare, with my screams waking up the entire tower.  “You think you’re ok to get up?  We’ve got someone who wants to meet you.”

Immediately, my entire body tensed, and I could feel myself pale.  My vision went blurry, my heart hammering frantically in my chest.  “Hey, hey, it’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.  Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I promise,” Tony spoke gently, his tone even as though he was attempting to sooth a wild animal.  I nodded slowly, doing my best to calm my heart.  He had promised me.  He promised they wouldn’t send me back.  I’m not sure why, but I trusted Tony.

Tony helped me to my feet, but my knees were shaking too much.  Slowly, he scooped me up into his arms, careful not to move to quickly and frighten me, and wrapped his arms around my back.  His arms were still so warm.  

“Ah, miss (Y/N), I presume.” I lifted my head from Tony’s shoulder to see the rest of the Avengers surrounding a large African American man in a black trench coat with a patch over his eye that was grinning back at me.  My heart almost stopped as I stared back at him, fear clawing mercilessly at my chest.  He reminded me of Nat in how he regarded me with nothing more than cold, merciless calculations; except, unlike Nat, he didn’t have that small spark of empathy.  Instead, there was excitement -- greed almost.  I made my decision then and there.  I didn’t like this man.

“I’ve got a question for you, kid.  How exactly did someone like you manage to steal from four of Earth’s mightiest heroes?” he asked, glancing me up and down.

I didn’t want to answer.  I didn’t want anything to do with this man.  

“It’s ok, just answer the question,” Tony nodded reassuringly.  I could feel his worried eyes on me, trying to grab my attention, but I refused to take my eyes off of the newcomer for a single second.  Still, I didn’t want to go against Tony.

“I have small hands,” I said slowly.  “And I know how to read people.”

“What do you mean read people?” Steve asked.  “What does any of that have to do with stealing a wallet?”

“It has everything to do with stealing a wallet,” I responded monotonously, still stubbornly refusing to drop my gaze from the man.  “Reading people helps you pick a mark -- someone with their guard down who isn’t expecting to actually be targeted.  More than that, though, reading people is what actually lets me get away.  With Steve, I was sweet and innocent, but with Tony, I was sarcastic but pitiable.  If I had been the opposite, Steve would have been more annoyed and therefore more aware of what I was doing, and Tony would have been less distracted.”

“You figured all of that out by talking to them for a few seconds?” Nat asked, taking a small step forward as she surveyed my curiously.  I nodded silently.

“Show me,” the man said.  Finally, I tore my eyes away from him to glance at Tony for confirmation.  He nodded back, gently setting me down.  I grabbed his hand instead.

“Who do you want me to mark?” I asked softly.

“Try Natasha,” he smirked, crossing his arms.  I glanced over at the redheaded woman and frowned.  “Something wrong?” he asked.

“I would never mark her,” I responded, glaring up in annoyance at the confidence in his tone.  “She is guarded and always in a stance to protect her vital points.  Someone like that is too aware of their surroundings not to notice a pickpocket.”

“Do your best anyways,” he smirked.

I grit my teeth in frustration and turned to Nat.  As I looked over at her, an idea slowly began to form.  I smirked inwardly.  It was perfect for dealing with this man.  Sunglasses, a phone, a watch, a ring, a swiss army knife, and a custom pen.  If I did everything perfectly, not to mention getting a bit lucky, I might be able to grab everything.

I squeezed Tony’s hand to draw his attention to it as I pressed my body into his slightly so that I could grab his sunglasses, which were hooked onto his pocket. “Fine,” I growled.  “But don’t blame me when it doesn’t work.  Now move out of the way.”  I grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him backwards, using that split second to simultaneously put Tony’s glasses on my head and slip my hand into the man’s opposite pocket and pull out his phone, flicking it upwards into the overly-large sleeve.  I took a deep breath and approached Nat, tucking my hands, and the phone with them, into my pockets.  I flicked my eyes carefully over her, looking for any loose item that I could grab.  Finally, I noticed that I could just barely see the edge of a few dollar bills in her back pocket.  It wouldn’t be easy, and I would have to stay in front of her the entire time to avoid her suspicion, but it wasn’t impossible.

“Excuse me, miss?” I asked softly, glancing up at her with wide eyes.

“Yeah?” She responded, lifting a brow.

“I-I was wondering if you had any food,” I croaked, allowing my body to shrink in on itself so it would look even smaller.

“Sorry, kid, I don’t have any on me,” she shook her head slightly, furrowing her brows.

“Ok, I understand, thank you,” I muttered softly.  “I’m sorry to bother you.  My mommy says bothering grown-ups is bad.  I-I don’t have the belt with me.  But I’m sure I can find a stick,”  I offered quickly, as if to try and placate her.  I stumbled to the side a bit, pretending to look for a stick.  I forced my toes to catch on my other shoe, falling right in front of Steve’s feet.  “I-I’m so sorry, sir,” I winced, making sure not to meet his eyes.  I took his outstretched hand and pulled myself up, wrapping one hand around his wrist, where I slipped off his watch.  “T-thank you so m-much,” I gushed, my voice shaking ever so slightly as I brushed the nonexistent dirt from his shirt.  Quickly, I put his watch onto my own wrist while his attention was focused on his shirt.

Nat frowned slightly at this.  “Your mommy, did she hurt you?” she brought my attention back to her, studying my face carefully.

I glanced back at her, before quickly looking back down to avoid eye contact.  I knew what I had to do -- that I had to tell the truth if I had any hope of doing this.  So, I forced myself to remember the face of my old caretaker.  “O-only if I’ve been really bad,” I shook my head slightly.  “A-and only if she’s at home.”  My voice had gone hoarse, tears building up in the backs of my eyes.  It was easy to cry when I thought about that terrible woman.

“How often is she not at home?” Nat asked.

“N-not that o-often,” I shook my head again.  “I-I think she just f-forgets sometimes.  She’ll come home soon, though.  She’s almost never gone for more than two weeks,” I smiled up at her softly, wrapping my arms around my torso to accentuate how small my waist was as well as provide a sense of insecurity and fear.

Nat frowned slightly, falling silent for a moment.  Finally, she looked up at the man and said, “Alright, I believe her.  I’d probably go take her to get some food then call the cops.  I’d imagine you’d be long gone before they arrive?” She added with a slight chuckle.

“Really?” I asked, my face lighting up in a wide smile.  “Thank you!” I gasped, wrapping my arms around her torso.  She immediately tensed, and I took the opportunity to grab the few bills, tucking them into my opposite sleeve.  “U-um, sorry,” I stuttered and quickly released her, my face growing red.  I stumbled backwards and straight into the arms of Thor.  I grabbed his hand in my own as though in an effort to keep my balance as he righted me gently.  I thanked him softly and slipped my hand out of his grip, taking the beautiful golden ring from his finger in the process.

“How would you escape, though?” Nat asked.  “I wouldn’t think you’d want to go to the police.”

“O-oh, well, it’s not too hard,” I smiled slightly.  “I just need to lose you in the crowd.  I would probably do something like this.”  I walked forward, and slipped between Clint and Bruce, using both hands to grab the swiss army knife from Clint’s pocket and a gorgeous custom pen that was clipped to Bruce’s.  “Then, once I’m out of your sight, I’d start running-”

“It was a good scam, kid,” the man cut in.  “But I thought I asked you to pickpocket her.”

I whipped back around to face him, suddenly feeling vulnerable again with all of the adults surrounding me.  “You’re right, I’m sorry; you asked me to pickpocket only her,” I hissed, my teeth grinding together.  “But I thought you wanted me to show you what I could do.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he frowned, narrowing his eyes.

“As long as I’m not seen as a threat, I can steal from anyone,” I said, walking up to Tony and handing back his sunglasses.  “And I would do anything to keep myself from being seen as a threat.”  I took the watch off my wrist and handed it back to Steve.  “Everyone has something that brings their guard down.” I pulled the ring from my finger and handed it back to Thor.  “And whether they acknowledge it or not, they all want to see the good in people,” I pulled the swiss army knife and custom pen from my pockets, handing them back to Clint and Bruce.  “They all want to see me as some innocent little kid,” I returned Nat’s money to her.  “Even you,” I held out the man’s phone, staring up at him in defiance.

Every one of them stared at me in pure, unadulterated shock.  All of them, that is, except for Tony, who grinned and welcomed me back into his side, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders.  Finally, the man chuckled a bit and snatched his phone back from me.  “Not bad, miss (Y/N), not bad at all.  Natasha, from now on, you’re training her to be a new agent.”

My eyes widened, and I frowned, subconsciously shrinking further into Tony’s side.  He squeezed my shoulder gently.

“Hey, Thor, why don’t you take (Y/N) for some poptarts.  She hasn’t had breakfast yet,” Tony said with a small smile.

“I’m not hungry,” I frowned.

“Just go with him for now, ok, kid?  Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.”  I blinked up at Tony and frowned before nodding slowly, allowing the large blonde god to take my hand and lead me out of the room, away from the rest of the adults.

As soon as the door closed, I turned to the god with wide, pleading eyes.  “Mr. Thor, could you pretty please toast the poptarts for me?” I asked sweetly, gazing up at him.

“Of course, young lady (Y/N),” Thor grinned and ruffled my hair, moving towards the cabinets.  As soon as his back was turned, I pressed my ear to the door, concentrating on trying to hear what was going on in there.

“Did you really think I’d let you make her an agent?” I heard Tony snap.

“I didn’t think you had a choice,” the man from earlier responded casually.  “The girl’s got a gift, Stark.  She could help us.”

“She’s just a kid!  I brought you here to give you a heads up that she’d be staying with us, not to give you a potential recruit.”

“Look, it’s very simple, Stark.  Either you allow her to start training, or I deem her a threat to the team.  I will inform the police of the location of a criminal and unsupervised child.”

“So what?!  I’ll just adopt her!”

“Adoption takes a long time, Tony, especially for someone with a criminal record and a history of alcohol abuse.  Do you really want to send her back to an orphanage while you go through all of that, if you’re even granted custody at all?”

Oh, god.  This couldn’t be happening.  I couldn’t be going back.  He promised me I wouldn’t go back!  I stumbled backwards, barely making it a few steps before my knees gave out and I was sent crashing to the ground.  

“Lady (Y/N)!” Thor shouted, rushing over, but I could barely hear him over the deafening sound of my heartbeat and the blood rushing through my ears.  I could feel the tears streaming down my face and the burning in my chest from my hyperventilating breaths.  I curled up tightly, my muscles shaking from how tense they were.  I couldn’t go back there -- I wouldn’t!  Tony promised me I would never go back again!

“(Y/N)?” The familiar voice cut through the haze.  Immediately, I reached out and clawed at the air, trying to find him, but with blur of tears in my eyes, I couldn’t see him anywhere.  Suddenly, my head was resting against a chest, a pair of arms holding me tight and close.  “It’s ok, just breath with me.  Focus on me, ok?  In and out.”  I forced myself to breath in with him, struggling to slow it down like he said.  Slowly but surely, my breathing evened out, until finally, it had returned to normal.

As the panic slowly faded away, I could feel the energy drain from my body, and I nestled further into Tony’s embrace.  He stroked my back gently, murmuring comforting words into my ear.

“Tony?” I didn’t even open my eyes as I whispered softly, my voice still thick and shaking.  My hands gripped his shirt tightly, afraid that if I let go for more than a second, he would disappear.  “Do I have to go back?” 

“Never,” Tony answered immediately, his voice firm.  “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“Ok,” I whispered back, relaxing slightly.  Tony pulled me even closer, and I let out a soft sigh, my muscles slowly relaxing.  My hands released the shirt’s material, falling numbly into my lap.

Just before my exhausted body quickly slipped back into unconsciousness, I was barely able to make out a few words from Tony.  “Fine.  You win.”

“She’ll start training tomorrow.”

- - -

That was about four years ago. Since that day, Natasha had been training me constantly in different fighting techniques, target practice, the works. Of course, the lying and deception I’d already had down pat. Originally the plan was for me to be homeschooled, but Tony had thrown an absolute fit when he’d heard that, and considering I wasn’t exactly lacking in the mental department, we settled on just a bit of extra tutoring from Bruce every day after school.

Fury’s interest in me never went away. Because I had been so malnourished as a kid, I ended up being way too small for my age. To Fury’s absolute delight, this meant that I was more than capable of squeezing through the smallest of spaces. In other words, thanks to my size, training, and natural intelligence I was absolutely perfect for covert missions focusing on gathering information.

Tony had been absolutely furious when I’d been called on for my first mission. He’d screamed at Fury nonstop for three days until, finally, he was assured both that Nat would be with me the entire time and that he would be allowed to have a direct connection to my earpiece. He couldn’t decide whether he was thankful or disappointed that my first mission went perfectly. Of course he was happy I came back completely unharmed, but his fear that I would be forced into more and more missions due to my overwhelming success was only proven right at every turn. Still, he was always in my ear, talking me through the every single mission I ever went on.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I wasn’t exactly a normal teenager. Still, that being said, I don’t think I would want it any other way.

Except maybe for the Fury part. Nothing would make me happier than seeing that man get what’s coming to him. But I could worry about that later. For now, I’d just spend my time grateful that I was blessed with the best dad in the world.

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

[hopelesshawks]

If you're still doing it, and if you feel inspired with the character : Bakugou Katsuki and the song "From Now On" from The Greatest Showman.

You can write with another character if this one doesn't inspire you!

Send me a song and a character (still open)

Ohhhh I love this!! Pro hero!Bakugo who let all the fame of being number 2 get in the way of his relationship me thinks. Thanks for sending this in 🥰

Bakugo used to love the fame and attention that came with being a top hero.

He used to love the way people would scream his name with stars in their eyes when they saw him; the way the idiots in suits over at the HPSC would congratulate him on his incident resolution rate; the way the press would sing his praises; the way his name sounded after the words Number Two Hero even though he’d much rather hear it after number one. He loved it all.

But you?

You fucking hated it.

You always said it was the worst part of hero work. The fans, the paparazzi, all of it grated on you. You hated that since Bakugo had cracked the top 10 you two couldn’t go on date night without getting blinded by cameras. You hated going to HPSC galas in an expensive outfit you’d never wear a second time, sipping overpriced champagne even though you’d be just as happy with something a tenth of the price. You hated that you couldn’t go on social media without seeing speculation about your relationship and your sex life literally everywhere or even worse hundreds of people all stating exactly why you weren’t good enough to be with the Bakugo Katsuki. But what you hated the most was the way Bakugo loved it; the way he preened under the praise, his chest puffing up with pride, ego absolutely blooming under all the superficial attention; the way he’d kiss you in front of paparazzi just so the headlines would be filled with mention of you being his. The rest you could deal with but it made your skin crawl how much he’d change when the public’s watchful eye was on him. At home he was the man you fell in love with, but the minute you left he regressed to the obnoxious asshole you’d first met during your first year at UA.

It was a recipe for disaster and in retrospect Katsuki really should’ve seen the break up coming. He can barely remember what had set off the argument in the first place, probably another gaudy headline or crude Twitter trend about the two of you. You’d been upset about it, raving about invasions of privacy and feeling violated and he’d been dismissive, the way he always was when it came to these things.

“It comes with the territory, just fuckin’ get used ta it already,” he had scoffed.

“The issue is you encourage it Katsuki! You care more about the fame and how good it makes you feel than you do how that added scrutiny makes me feel!” you fired back.

“Why can’t you just fucking deal with it??”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

“Well maybe if you did your fuckin ranking would be better!”

It was a low blow. Bakugo knew it then and he still knows it now. You try so hard to be the best hero you can be, but at the end of the day popularity plays a nontrivial role in the ranking system and being the “““just average””” significant other to one of Japan’s biggest rising stars isn’t a recipe for popularity.

“Get out….”

Your voice had been dangerously low. He’ll never forget the way it managed to sound both terrifyingly lethal and devastatingly heartbroken.

“Shit, wait (y/n) I didn’t mean that I-”

“I said get out!” you had yelled, voice quaking with pent up emotion as you started shoving him out the door. If he really didn’t want to move he could’ve easily resisted but at the time he’d been too shocked to even try, reeling backwards and letting you force him back into the hallway of your apartment building.

“Talk to me when Bakugo Katsuki comes back, I’m fucking sick of Pro Hero Dynamight,” you had said before promptly slamming the door in his face.

In the month that followed Katsuki threw everything into his work, taking longer shifts and pushing himself harder so that by the time he got home he was too beat up to feel the aching pain in his heart and too exhausted to notice his apartment didn’t feel like home the way yours did. He ignored the pitying looks from his friends, brushed off their concerned words and sympathetic gazes with grumbled “I’m fine”s and eye rolls. He filled the hole you left in him with the praise and admiration of the adoring public.

And then came the day you’d been warning him about since he first became a household name.

“The Cost of Victory: Pro Hero Dynamight destroys city during villain chase”

The story matched the headline, tallying up all of the damage he’d caused to buildings and other public property while trying to apprehend someone’s half ass attempt at recreating nomu. As shoddy as the thing was it could take a fucking hit and there was no denying the collateral damage was decently expansive. What the article failed to mention, however, was the amount of damage done before Bakugo had arrived on scene. It made sure to comment on the number of casualties in the incident but conveniently left out how much larger that number would be had Katsuki spent more time worrying about some stupid hunks of metal over catching the damn monstrosity and saving civilian lives. He guesses “Pro Hero Dynamight does his best despite being out gunned and having zero back up at his disposal” isn’t as catchy or clickworthy of a headline.

The very same websites showering him in praise just a day or two before now viciously rip into him. He can’t take a step outside his apartment without seeing article after article shredding him to pieces or getting a camera shoved into his face asking for comment on the criticism. His Twitter feed is full of former fans deriding him for falling short of perfection, calling him a narcissist, a showboat, a fucking menace to society as if he’s the sixteen year old kid chained up at the sports festival all over again. So he stops leaving his apartment entirely.

Kirishima is the one who finally gets him out again. The bar they go to is small, further away from the downtown area than most people are willing to stray. Between that and the fact it’s still relatively early in the evening, they have the place to themselves. The only other soul is the owner/bartender who seems entirely uninterested in the fact that Red Riot and Dynamight are patronizing his establishment. It’s perfect, giving Bakugo the space he needs to rant to his best friend. And rant he does. He lets it all pour out while he paces: the frustration, the rage, the disappointment, the guilt, until there’s nothing left in him except an aching sadness that has nothing to do with the fake fans and shitty headlines. “Y’know what the worst fuckin’ part is?” he rages, face red from bellowing for the past lord knows how long and tears already welling in his eyes at what he’s about to admit. Kirishima barely has time to ask what the worst part is before Katsuki is choking out around a frustrated sob “I wouldn’t even give a shit if I still had (y/n).”

Kirishima is out of his seat and pulling his friend into a hug in an instant. He lets Bakugo shake apart, doesn’t mind the tears soaking into his shirt or how tightly the other man is gripping onto him. He stands solid and firm, the same way he always has and always will for Katsuki until the sobs turn to hiccups. “They’re worried about you, you know,” Eijirou finally tells him. “Yea? How the fuck you figure that Shitty Hair?” Bakugo grumbles miserably into his shoulder. “They’ve called me every day since the article came out to check on you,” the red head admits and it’s enough to make Katsuki stiffen in his hold, scared to hope. “Really?” he asks, voice gruff but quiet. “Really. So are you gonna go to them or what?”

You’ve been staring at your phone for at least an hour, debating whether to call Bakugo or not, when a knock on your door snaps you out of your pained contemplation. You pull the long sleeves of the hoodie Bakugo gave you for your birthday down over your hands as you move to answer the door. Imagine your surprise when the very man who’d been plaguing your thoughts is the one standing outside your door. He looks rough. His hands are shoved into his pockets, back hunched over, face red and puffy, and even though he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet you can tell his are red rimmed. He’s been crying, you realize, and it breaks your heart a little. “Ya just gonna stand there or can I come in?” he asks and it snaps you out of your thoughts again. “Right yea sorry come in I guess,” you say, stepping out of the way to let him in.

He’s almost twitchy, like he wants to make himself comfortable the way he always used to but can’t. You wince a little when you realize it’s the correct assumption to make. Still he doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking somehow simultaneously out of place and like he never left. “What are you doing here?” you finally sigh. “You said talk to you when Bakugo Katsuki came back and he—or I—or whatever did,” he mutters and a pang of something that feels suspiciously like guilt hits you at the words. “Oh… Is—is that all you wanted to say or?” He glares at a distant point over your left shoulder, presumably collecting his thoughts, before he finally meets your gaze. “Look I-” he breaks eye contact again, growling a little in frustration at himself as he continues to struggle to find words. You don’t say anything though, knowing he needs to work through it himself. “Things have been pretty shit for me lately,” he finally admits. You can’t help but scoff at the comment although one look at him and his pained expression has you regretting it. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry, yea, keep going.”

He huffs before continuing and even though he still won’t meet your eyes you can tell how difficult this all is for him.

“Look things have been pretty fuckin’ shitty lately with everyone and their goddamn cousin in Japan hatin’ me but it’s made me realize some shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ focused on chasin’ the fame and the fans or whatever that I kinda forgot about the important stuff…”

He only trails off for a moment, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say next. It’s almost funny how much it reminds you of him right before a big fight.

“But from now on,” he starts, finally meeting your gaze, puffing out his chest as if daring you to challenge whatever’s going to come out of his mouth next. “From now on I’m not gonna let all that stupid shit blind me alright? I promise, from now on I’m only focusin’ on the real people in my life, not the goddamn extras. Ok?”

His eyes are blazing as he finishes and it literally takes your breath away.

“Ok.”

“Ok, then….” he trails off, his eyes slide away again as his confidence wanes, “then can I come back home again?”

Your heart shatters and forms anew at the words as you find your feet moving before you’ve even told them to. You throw yourself into his arms, pulling him close, the jagged edges you both left in each other the night you broke up re-aligning and mending themselves. “Of course you can Katsuki, I’ve missed you,” you sigh, each word wrapped in relief and joy. “Fuckin’ missed you too dumbass,” he huffs back, although you don’t miss how wet it sounds. When you pull back it’s only a fraction and only so you can reel him in for a gentle kiss, pouring every missed I love you into it so there’s no room for doubting if you’ve truly forgiven him.

It’s a promise. A promise to do better from now on. And Katsuki means every single second of it.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @oliviasslut @black-rose-29

[konlyfans]

We Are

pairing: idol!Shownu x female reader

genre: smuuuuuut, sugar baby themes

summary: you’re his pretty little secret, and this is one of your meetings

There’s a mechanical buzz as he slips his keycard into he door, and a soft click follows when it closes behind him. From where you’re lying on the bed you can’t see him yet, but you hear him kick off his shoes and make his way towards you, and your heart skips a beat. Holding your breath as he comes into view, he gives you a lazy but pleased smile. You’re waiting for him on your side across the king sized bed with a silk robe hanging loosely over you. Nothing pleases him more than when you wait for him in next to nothing.

“Victoria’s Secret,” he acknowledges your lingerie. You roll onto your back, opening your robe the rest of he way to show him just how good the lace looks against your skin, before turning onto your belly again.

“Versace?” He’s in a black button up with gold design, and black leather pants that hugged his thighs perfectly. You’d know that shirt pattern anywhere.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “And for you,” he motions to the bag you hadn’t noticed in his hand that reads ‘Versace’, and you cutely gasp. “You know I’ll only give you the best.”

While your relationship is complex, and you often feel like his dirty little secret, Shownu dotes upon you like the sugar baby he never knew he wanted. Random sums of money find their way into your account, you’re often whisked away on 5 star vacations, and he never meets you without at least one gift in hand. He never travels with you though, he always met you at the destination. Like today, he reserved the hotel room and the two of you arrived at separate times.

“You’re the best,” you hum, rolling onto your tummy. He circles the bed so he’s standing behind you and you feel his hot gaze. Grabbing you by the ankles, crossing one over the other, and he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. With gentle fingers he slides the silk robe up off of your skin, just enough for him to have a full view of your ass. A pleased chuckle escapes him at the way you lift your hips and wiggle for him. His strong hand massages your curves, knees to waist and back again. He loved admiring you, admiring what’s his. You keep your hips high as the bed dips beneath his weight and he straddles your thighs.

“How’s my princess toady?” As he speaks he lets his hands roam in an easy going massage, never missing a chance grip your cheeks. “How’s your body feel?”

“Not tired. Not sore. I feel good.”

“Good. I wanna be a little rough today. I need you, baby. Is that alright?”

“Yes, my love,” you coo, “anything for you.” He drags his hands along your skin a little more firmly now as he leans in and kisses your shoulders. Slowly the light robe is pulled from you and tossed lazily to the floor. Hot, needy kisses trail a perfect line down your spine until he’s right at your tailbone. Shownu lived to tease you, to make you ache for more until you felt crazy with desire. Noting the way he presses his package against you while removing his belt with one hand, you know he’ll have you shaking under his touch in no time. Like the good girl you always are, you prepare to let him have his way.

“Your safe word is… Versace.”

“Yes sir,” you giggle. His thick leather belt is soon tied tightly around your wrists, restraining them behind your back. You eagerly press your hips back again, wanting to feel him against you and for a moment he gives in. His pants prove to be a frustrating barrier that leave little to the imagination while simultaneously keeping him from you. You can feel him, but it’s not nearly enough.

“Be patient, princess.” A painful lack of contact follows as he pushes off the bed, pulling you so you were bent over the edge with your backside waiting for his next move. A beat passes, making you anticipate him until you squirm softly with curiosities. Only then does he drag your panties down your legs, marveling at the way your core was rapidly becoming slick with lust. He places kisses everywhere except the one place he knows you want them. Not until he’s ready. Not until he knows you’re ready to beg. All it takes is seeing your muscles tense ever so slightly and he’s on you all at once. Like a mad man he devours you, spreading you open and dipping his tongue into your nectar. Immediately you pull against your restraints, craving the chance to reach back, grab him by the hair and encourage him. “You’re so good for me baby,” he mumbles, more for himself than for you. Two fingers press into you and you can’t stifle the moan that pours from you as he goes to work. “I know good and damn well you can be louder than that,” he demands, his fingers pumping into you faster. You obey as always, crying out against the comforter as he rocks your entire body.

“Fuck… me….” The request is a shaky one, and a rapidly approaching orgasm strains your voice.

“Okay,” he agrees, “but if you don’t cum now, you don’t get to until I say so.”

“Yes, Sir,” you whine. This is your mistake, overestimating how long you can hold out and underestimating how wild he’s about to drive you.

“As you wish, princess. You know I’ll give you what you want.” As he speaks he stands behind you, removing every article of his clothing without letting you see. How dare he.

“I wanna see you,” you whine cutely, attempting to turn over without the use of your arms. He quickly and roughly puts you back in your original position, holding your forearms in his strong grip.

“Wouldn’t you rather feel me,” he muses as he presses into you from behind. He moves slow, deep, truly letting you feel everything he has to offer. Suddenly your head is empty, and a soft whimper catches in your throat. “Princess,” he groans as he pulls out to push back in at the same pace, “good girls speak when they’re spoken to.”

“Y-Yes…”

“Yes what?” Another agonizing slow grind.

“Yes, I want to feel you,” you ramble through quivering breaths. A man of unrivaled self control, he slowly increases his tempo.

“I can’t hear you,” he taunts, reaching a pace that caused the bed to rock on it’s frame. He feel so good filling you up that you’re simply at a loss for words again. Displeased with your lack of reply, he forces his hips faster. “Let me hear you, or I’ll stuff that pretty mouth with your panties.”

“Shit!” you finally yelp. It’s music to his ears, your long moans coupled with the sound of skin colliding. It fills the room, washing out the outside world and submerging you in ecstasy.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises. “You’re so good to me.” Shownu has ever flowing affection for you, though he would deny it to anyone that asked. But not you. No, you are his princess, his baby, his lover. The gifts were a way to say it without saying it.

“Babe... Baby, I—“

“Don’t you dare,” he stops abruptly, his tip just barely inside you. You almost growl in protest as you remember the condition you agreed to. He turns you over finally, pushing you higher onto the bed and following closely on his knees. You were met with a gorgeous but infuriating smirk at how pleased he is to have stopped your climax so effectively. He touches you, teases you, his fingers sliding along your sensitive and soaking folds. “You’re sexy when you’re pissed off.”

“Untie me,” you demand.

“No.”

“Yes.” He narrows his gaze. You can’t tell if he’s amused or upset by your sudden defiance.

“Is it uncomfortable?”

“Well it is now,” you say a bit softer. He helps you to sit up and unties your restraint only to tie your hands again in front of you. You pout hard.

“Should’ve asked nicely,” he grins, pushing you to your back again. Lifting your legs, he sets them on his shoulders and pushes in again. This time is different, he wastes no time with picking up the pace one thrust at a time. Now it’s relentless. You cry out in pleasure and he places gentle kisses and nips on your ankles. That blinding sensation begins to build in you again and you arch your back off the sheets.

“Oh fuck… Please…”

“Now you know your manners,” he quips. Spreading your legs further he pins them to either side of your torso, and rails you harder. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“I love the way you fuck me,” you profess through labored breaths.

“Again.” The only way to get him off faster than stoking his cock is stroking his ego.

“I belong to you,” you devote. “I’m all yours.”

“Do you wanna cum, princess?”

“Yes… Please?”

“You only cum for me. Your body is mine.”

“Yes, baby.”

“That’s my girl. That’s my good girl…” he’s breathless and ready to erupt. With hands still bound you reach for him and he eagerly leans down to capture your lips. His kiss is bruising, staining you with traces of his love as he takes the moans right from your lips.

You’re not sure how much more you can take, but you’ll take it for him. He pauses only to toss the unless pillows from the bed before he takes hold of the headboard, using it as leverage to tear you to pieces. Your moans progress to almost screams and you bite down on the belt confining your wrists. Surely someone will call hotel management on the two of you. The headboard bangs furiously against the wall, and amidst the chaos you swear you hear cracking wood.

You can’t hold out any longer. Before you can announce it your orgasm washes over you. You legs shake, your body trembles, your eyes squeeze shut. It’s almost too much, a white hot rush of electricity that makes you lose all control of yourself. You douse the both of you and evidence of your peak flows unapologetically.

“Fuck....” It’s all he can manage before pulling out of you and releasing. Thick ropes spurt all the way up to your chest.