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Claire Keane
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@bredfaith
[coughs loudly]
[coughs loudly]
soon as i finish reading kny its over for u bitches
“And then he said, “I’m scared.” “Of what? Me?” I replied. He shook his head. “Of me,” he looked at me. His hands trembled as they touched my skin. “Of me hurting you.”
— (via frostborn)
shino is here. pay attention to him. pls.
the most interesting thing about relationships is that they're nothing like kankuro imagined.
naturally, his views on relationships have changed and developed over the years. gone are the days of his disdain for them— the belief that every single one of them is doomed for failure, for violence, for neglect, for death— replaced instead with... confusion. not for the concept of a relationship, but for a lack of understanding in the feeling.
he watches his siblings love and be loved and it doesn't make sense. kankuro's been unable to go more than a few nights with a person before getting tired. before letting the intrusive (and likely fear-fueled) thoughts get to him, which usually ends in a cocky salute and a that was fun, let's do it again sometime. except there isn't usually a next time.
temari's relationship is filled with banter. one smartass and another smartass is the perfect recipe for bickering, arguments that aren't actually arguments, little insults that apparently neither of them take offense to. in the beginning, kankuro wonders if he should be concerned for all temari's complaints. then again, his sister is fairly private. she and shikamaru aren't ones for pda or announcing their love for the world to hear. that, kankuro assumes, is reserved for them and them alone. likely temari's way of keeping this sacred love safe and out of reach of dead demons that can no longer hurt them.
gaara's relationship, however, is loud. proud. everyone within a mile knows its intensity. sometimes, kankuro wonders if his little brother minds it at all. lee is physical, always seeking out touch and kisses and not caring who's around to see it. as if no one but he and gaara exist when their eyes are on each other. it's... jarring, at times. kankuro doesn't know what he'd do if he were under that kind of attention all the time.
but despite this, despite any confusion he may have on feeling so strongly for another person, he knows what they have is real. he knows that what they have is what his mother had deserved and not gotten. what his father was supposed to give but was incapable of. perhaps his ignorance is just further proof that he is his father's son.
at least, that's what he'd told himself before shino.
shino, who is both private and proud. who will hold his hand but also show nothing the way he does at home. who likes knowing that people are aware of their love but uncaring if people aren't. there's no pressure when they're together, and maybe that's what kankuro fails to understand about temari and gaara's relationships. feeling love, being in love, requires no pressure. how could it, when it feels so natural to pull shino against him after a long and grueling mission, sweat and dirt still clinging to both himself and his clothes? shino doesn't even complain about the grime, simply kisses his temple and asks him how it went. mentions the cold soba he'd made for dinner and how kankuro can eat it after a warm shower.
relationships are nothing like kankuro imagined, and he's grateful to have been so wrong.
this love will put me back together // @kyousei.
@bredfaith ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ: cue kankuro, waiting outside shino’s classroom with a bouquet of flowers. flowers. he’s sure he could’ve gotten something so much cooler— but flowers are romantic, right? especially after a month long mission with no contact. yeah. flowers are perfect. nothing to be nervous about. // unprompted
There are some days Shino considers regretting his career choice.
He may only assist the Academy between Jonin missions, but more and more of his time was spent preparing the next generation of shinobi. Even if those future shinobi happened to be five and six years old and nightmares. Shino can say with confidence that he never acted like this in the beginning of his Academy career, but perhaps the times were changing. Regardless, he was looking forward to going home and making himself a warm meal.
After the classroom has been readied for the following day, Shino offers a short sigh before sliding the door open to leave—
❝Kan…Kankuro?❞
Shino is first met with the sight of flowers, golden yellow, sunset pinks and purples, vibrant green, followed with the master puppeteer’s awkward, nervous smile. A month had passed since he had heard from Kankuro (an assignment from the Kazekage, unavoidable despite how lonely it made him feel) and there had been no telling when he’d be able to return home, let alone come to Konoha. Smile immediately begins to curl at his mouth.
❝Welcome back.❞ Flowers are ignored in favor of stepping closer to his partner and removing the distance between them with a loving kiss. ❝I missed you dearly.❞
@bredfaith ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ: “ka-ku-zuuuu.” the dragged out and frankly annoying sound of kakuzu’s name on hidan’s tongue is only outmatched in annoying-ness by the fact that his hand currently hangs from his wrist by a single strip of skin. the bone is visible and he drips blood right onto the floor. don’t ask how this happened. “c'mere, grandma, i need your sewing kit!” // unprompted
Kakuzu needn’t lift his eyes from the book in his grasp to know exactly what Hidan wanted from him. The same shit. A growl rumbles at the back of his throat, lip curling behind the mask covering his face.
❝No.❞ Not this time. Hidan needs to learn not to rely on Kakuzu as his personal sewing kit and instead stop being reckless needlessly. ❝Do it yourself.❞
When hagoromo asks shinobis to show him the best swordsman they've ever had:
Starting now, things are going to get real flashy!
Hayate 🍃
and kakuzu is here to snap hidan's neck. bye bitch.
"fuckin'— fuck you, kakuzu!"
he hears the crack before registering that he's currently looking over his own shoulder. kakuzu has always been quick, deceivingly so, and while hidan knows he put himself in this situation, he's always hoping that kakuzu will take the stick out of his ass. unfortunately, today is not that day. nor is it hidan's day, if the blood dripping down his bare chest is anything to go by.
"you tore your own damn stitches, you moron. get your ass over here and fix it or i swear to jashin i'll feast on your organs!"
kakuzu is already walking away, so hidan simply raises his voice; never one to back down from a fight even when he's so clearly losing. "oi, you old fuck, get back here and fix my neck! it was just a joke, dammit! don't you walk away from me!"
all he gets in return is the finger.
get rekt, loser // @kyousei.
@bredfaith mused: “ perhaps we should find a random stranger to murder. practice does make perfect. ” / mangetsu for haku!
❛ There are other, more interesting ways to cure boredom, Mangetsu-kun, ❜ haku chides, a faux sternness blanketing their throat. years ago mangetsu was the teacher and haku the student; it’s only right that they flip the script every now and then. they lace their arm through mangetsu’s and hip check him playfully. his shark teeth glitter in the sunlight; haku has the sudden urge to trace them with the soft edge of their thumb. just to feel a sting. just to smell the blood. ❛ For example: have you considered grand larceny? Impersonating an officer of the peace? Pelting rude old men with rotten melons? The possibilities are endless. Use your imagination instead of your sword. The world is more fun that way, hm? ❜
im running on fumes and the worst hangover but i'm also adding kankuro to this blog
@bredfaith mangetsu chuckled: "i remember carrying you like this, years ago,“ mangetsu says, crooked smile curling across his cheeks as he shifts his hands beneath haku’s thighs to better carry them on his back, except this time, their ankle isn’t swollen and sprained. there isn’t anything wrong, in fact, as they trail along the shore of the beach. nothing beyond haku being tired. “you were so much smaller. i guess i was, too. zabuza was so annoyed with me, said i babied you too much. good thing he didn’t know shit, huh?”
❛ Zabuza-san knows lots of things, ❜ haku replies instinctually, but the words lack the bared attack-dog teeth that usually accompany a defense of zabuza. instead, their voice is relaxed and loose, sounding as distracted as they feel. they can feel mangetsu’s rough hands grip their thighs as he pushes them higher on his back with a snort. haku keeps their arms tight around his shoulders, dutifully ignoring the voice in their head reminding them how close they are to mangetsu’s neck, that they’d have a plausible excuse to rest their face against it if they wanted. no. it is one thing to have a crush on a friend ( again ), and another entirely to take advantage of it. no matter how beautiful the boy carrying them is, or how safe they feel in his hands.
❛ I do not remember being coddled during training, ❜ they say pointedly, reminiscing. ❛ You were a terror. Suigetsu-kun loved when you ‘put me in my place’, as he used to say. He was so jealous of me. He went out of his way to get me in trouble when he could. I suspected you were pitting us against each other. ❜ their fake lofty tone implies they still think as much.
mangetsu laughs, carefree and wild, and haku is weak; they give in to their urge for closeness. haku rests their chin on mangetsu’s shoulder and blows a puff of cool air on his neck just to see him squirm.
❛ I thought about you a lot, after. You and Suigetsu-kun. ❜ their their arms around him at the thought. a cool cheek presses against his neck. ❛ ...When I saw you again years later, I was surprised you remembered me. ❜
it isn’t sad; it’s a statement, a plain allusion to the tragedies that befell the hozuki brothers. ❛ Everyone thought you were dead, but once again you told everyone to go fuck themselves and came back alive. ❜
haku shuts their eyes and lets themself cling shamelessly to the man they have, once again, fallen hopelessly for, who they once again never confess to. the ocean is a constant roar in their ears. sun prickles the backs of their legs, neck, and bare feet. mangetsu’s hands are rough and strong beneath their thighs, as solid and real as the happy sigh that escapes their lips.
❛ I am glad I stuck in your mind. I hope I was good company. ❜
you know who i miss? hayate