#/. ah yes. my muse. kinda.

[lenzimanotmoved]

hello beloveds <3 I'll try to finally poke at things here again over the weekend!!

[pearlymel]

A dance— Capitano

Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.

Wc : 3.2k

Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.

Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!

You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.

Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.

All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)

Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.

It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.

Like last week.

“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.

Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.

"Did you learn it from someone?”

“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”

You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.

“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.

Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.

"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”

“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”

“i don't.”

And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.

“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.

You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.

An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.

“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.

“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”

“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.

All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.

But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.

You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.

“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”

“and the colour?”

"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”

Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.

Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.

Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.

You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”

"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”

You are ready.

You are not ready.

Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?

The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.

Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.

You were here to make friends, hopefully.

You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.

And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.

Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?

Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.

But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?

You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.

“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.

"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.

The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.

Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.

He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.

"I suppose we should dance, wife.”

“you want to dance?”

"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.

You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.

Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.

"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.

"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.

Interesting.

He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.

You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.

His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.

”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”

You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.

His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.

"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.

"You look rather well tonight, as well.”

“Thank you, wife.”

The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.

You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.

As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.

You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.

But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.

"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.

"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”

He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.

Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.

“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.

you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.

The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.

Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.

Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.

The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.

He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.

“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let your hair breath the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.

You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in hin stir.

His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.

It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.

Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.

You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.

Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.

“Will you allow me to touch you?”

The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.

When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.

His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.

“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”

And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.

“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.

“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.

He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.

His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.

It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.

Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.

Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.

“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.

“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’

Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.

Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.

You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.

He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.

His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.

“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.

Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.

—

You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.

As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.

“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”

Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,

[lovebugism]

istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.

i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.

from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3

hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.

Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.

You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?” 

“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”

“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”

“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”

“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.

He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”

Your jaw tightens. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”

He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”

“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.

Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.

He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.

Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”

—————

By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.

You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson. 

You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.

“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.

“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”

“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.

“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”

You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”

You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”

“By who?”

“Who do you think?”

He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”

You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.

“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”

“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.

“You’re so annoying.”

Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”

“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.

“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”

You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.

You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.

“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”

“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.

You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”

“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) ch3

“So, what’s your deal?” Jason asked, when Danny’s mouth was full of food. “You’re dead, I notice.”

Danny choked. He gave Jason a betrayed look with big blue eyes, a hand clapped over his mouth to contain any mess.

Jason smirked back, unrepentant. “I died once,” he shared. “Got better though.”

“You got be-”

“You were surprised about what it’s like to fight humans,” Jason continued. It was hard not to laugh at the confused outrage on his date’s face. “So that implies you fight someone else? You’re fighting ghosts or something? Or do ghosts have some kinda natural enemy? Vampires or some shit?” He might have been a bit flippant but sue him, it sounded a lot more magical than his daily life.

Danny opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked like he was in pain when he grudgingly admitted, “I do have a lot of beef with this one vampire guy, Vlad.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. That was such a vampire guy name, what the hell?

“No, no, it’s not funny,” Danny protested. He waved his hands wildly, flinging a bit of bean from his burrito across the roof they were perched on. “He’s also a ghost- well, he’s a half of a ghost, but that’s a long story from when he was in college.”

“The half-ghost vampire has an undergraduate degree?” Jason interrupted. He needed to know what this fucker studied. Was it like, social science? Literature? Theater? That might explain Danny’s implied belief that a theme was an inherent rogue thing. No, wait, business administration?

Danny gave him a withering look. “He’s got a Doctorate.”

Jason flung his hands up in defeat against the world. That made more sense than an undergraduate degree somehow. There was just something about the type of person who got a Doctorate that made them, you know, creeps.

‘Or maybe they’ve just got enough specialized knowledge to act on latent creepiness,’ he mused. ‘...Shit, am I developing an anti education stance? Can I blame this on Crane and Quinn?’

Danny was continuing with his explanation of the vampire’s background. Every word made it nuttier. “He’s a scientist, actually, and the mayor of a small town. And he lives in a cheese mansion.”

This was a sharp divergence from vampire stereotypes and he needed to know everything.

“Is the mansion made of cheese?” Jason interrupted. He was leaning in, intent on every word. Why was this vampire the most interesting man in the world?

He got a weird look for that. “No, it just belonged to the Dairy King,” Danny said, like it was everyday knowledge that you could expect a layperson to have.

“Of course, the Dairy King,” Jason said wisely.

"Enough about me though!" Danny flailed a bit. "How did you get my uh, number?"

Ah. Jason took a big bite to delay while he chose his words.

There was no point in trying to hide his vigilante identity from Danny. The guy probably didn't even understand the concept.

So he might as well top whatever story Danny had.

"The bat guy who taught me all about being a child soldier got grabbed by this group of loser cultists, right?" He gestured in a way that did absolutely nothing to illustrate the situation.

Danny cocked his head. "This is off to a good start."

"They tried to sacrifice him. You gotta remember him - big ugly guy, dressed in black and gray, underwear on the outside of his pants in a way that's never been cool?"

Danny didn't seem to have words, but he lifted his hands to make two ears on top of his head.

He pointed with both hands. "That's the guy," Jason agreed. "At the time, we didn't know what kind of sacrifice it was. We were thinking more along the lines of blood sacrifice?" He shrugged as if the idea of B biting it meant nothing to him.

Danny made a pffft sound of air escaping between his lips. "I tossed him back." He flailed in place. "I- isn't- wasn't that- that was a while ago," he stuttered. "I kinda forgot about him."

"...You got offered a cape, then a few weeks later a bunch of others, and you didn't make a mental connection?" Jason checked.

Danny flushed. "Time doesn't match up between the realms and anyway, I'm really busy!" He crossed his arms and accidentally knocked over his drink. "I've got a lot going on in my life. Anyway, for a ghost?" Danny blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry to break your heart, but none of you dress wild enough to stand out in the Infinite Realms. We've got robot dudes and child pirates and giant eyeballs and stuff." He gave Jason a smug look. It was cute.

Jason acted on impulse and reached out to ruffle Danny's hair. He realized what he was doing too late. His hand froze above Danny's head.

Danny tilted his face up and made an inquisitive sound.

"There was a bug." Jason pulled his hand back. What was wrong with him? He didn't go touching other people just because they were cute. "It flew off."

"...Right," Danny said. "You're being very normal." He seemed delighted by this, the little gremlin. "So. You were a child soldier too?"

Jason nearly fell off his perch.

Danny shrieked a laugh and pointed. "Ha!" He crowed. "I win! I shocked you first!"

"There wasn't a competition!" Jason lied. His face was bright red. It was too late to save face. "What do you mean too?" He demanded. "Were you a child?"

"Somewhat recently," Danny said. He gave Jason a catlike smile. "Adults come from teenagers, teenagers come from kids, kids come from babies. Do you need to know-"

"I know where babies come from." Jason cut him off. He tried to look off put at the way Danny laughed at him but fuck it, it was funny, in a dumb way. "Of course you were a kid, that was silly of me," he admitted. "Ghosts are made from humans, right?"

"Well yes, but actually no," Danny said, philosophical. "Some of us. I was. Other ghosts are made from like, vultures, or ideas."

It kinda seemed like ghost taxonomy was more complicated than he was ready to get into at the moment. Those two things were pretty fuckin disparate.

Jason sighed heavily and picked up his food again, just to have something to do with his hands.

A thought occurred. He didn't let it show on his face but he felt sick to his stomach.

Danny was dead. Danny said he'd been a child recently, and a child soldier.

Someone needed their ass kicked.

Danny: we are having such a whimsical time!

Jason: sirens screaming

[inthewychelm]

Steddie Week: Day seven - Free space/ I Want to Break Free by Queen @steddie-week

word count: 589

Steve woke to the sound of music filling the trailer and an empty bed. The walls were thin enough that he could hear the noise of someone moving around in the kitchen. He knew that Wayne was probably still not due back for a few more hours, and the old man didn’t really prefer to blast Queen in the morning…or early afternoon. 

He took a few moments to linger in bed--Eddie’s bed, before moving to join his boyfriend in the kitchen. Steve wasn’t typically a morning person, but the memory of last night was motivation enough. 

And even if it wasn’t, the sight of his boyfriend dancing along to Freddie’s lyrics while cooking them breakfast definitely was worth it. Eddie smiled up at him as Steve stumbled further into the room, hair wild from sleep and wearing Steve’s button down over boxers. He quickly set down the fork he was using to poke around at whatever was crackling in the pan and made his way to Steve. 

“Morning, sugar.” Eddie crooned, emphasized with a peck to his cheek and a mug of coffee pressed into his palm. Steve chased his lips for another kiss before Eddie moved out of range; which just earned him a delighted snort and a second kiss. 

Steve sipped on the coffee while Eddie went back to the stove. He was admiring the way his hair swayed as he moved out of rhythm to the beat.

“Didn’t think Queen was your thing.” Steve mused. 

“Oh, contraire, my dearest.” Eddie laughed, speaking over his shoulder. “I very much respect Queen and dig their music. But I’m not the one who picked the music playing.”

Steve hummed in confusion. Not about Eddie actually liking Queen. That was surprising, yes, but it made sense when he thought about it. In fact, he was kinda delighted he was still learning things about Eddie. 

As he was thinking about it, the song was starting to sound more familiar. Like, as in listening to it on repeat before and after putting it on a mixtape for Eddie familiar. It really could’ve been just a coincidence, but by the grin on Eddie’s face Steve didn’t think it was.

“Is this my tape?” Steve whined, he didn’t need Eddie to nod to confirm. “What happened to listening to it alone?”

“Ah, I believe I said, I want you to listen to my tape alone. ‘Sides, I was listening alone before you joined me.” 

Steve’s frown didn’t last long after Eddie sang along, shoulders jerking with the sudden beat. His dancing was more of a performance than what Steve was used to. Eddie quickly shut off the stove, finished with the food and his attention solely on Steve. He felt cornered by Eddie’s predatory grin as he shimmied closer. 

Eddie placed his hands on Steve’s hips, pulling them chest to chest. One hand curled around to the small of his back, the other holding his hand. Eddie began swaying along, slightly wild and offbeat. But Steve was enjoying the attention as Eddie crooned along with Freddie.

“It’s strange, but it’s true,” Eddie sang. Steve thinks to himself that Eddie’s twang becomes stronger in the morning and when he sings. “Can’t get over the way you love me like you do”

The grin on Eddie’s lips was so full of love that Steve couldn’t help but follow along. He was still sleepy, but for now he was content to sing and dance with his boyfriend. They could eat a cold breakfast wearing each other’s clothes after. 

[pumpkins-journal]

✮ When He Smiles ✮

gn!reader x choso (can be platonic or pre-relationship)

You're curious about how the man could be so expressive, and yet... (Pure fluff n vibes)

inspired by that one panel of embarrassed choso and the thought of him sending dog stickers w a straight face just tickles me

also posting this on mobile bc im impatient so sorry its a bit ugly looking aUGH i might fix it when i get home (update i fixed it a lil)

Choso was an enigma to you. When you talk to him he'd have an aura of indifference about everything around him. He always seemed so… detached. Even with pestering his dear half-brother to call him big brother, the only semblance of excitement he'd show was a slight pitch in tone laced with a firm insistence.

Which is why you'd be caught off guard when you’d start communicating via text. You’d double-take at the cute emojis attached to his messages, the occasional puppy stickers meeting your gaze. 

you: choso is that a dog choso: Yes. Yuji taught me how to send these stickers. Do you like them? you: yea i do! choso: I'm glad. I'll be sure to keep using them then. 😄 choso: He also taught me how emojis work.

It was especially curious when you’d find yourself looking over his shoulder, watching him respond to his little brother in the same manner- emojis, stickers and all- and your eyes would trail up to see that same deadpanned look on his face. Once he returned your gaze, you leaned back, face warm with embarrassment.

“Ah, sorry. Was I too close?” you asked. 

“No, you’re fine.” Choso shook his head before showing his screen. “Yuji was showing me a trailer for a movie he'd like to see. It's supposed to be about the lives of people, their relationship with the creatures in their world and teamwork.” You looked down at the screen, watching a scene of a young boy with a small yellow mouse-like creature.

“I think I may like this one. He reminds me of Yuji.”

You couldn't help but smile at this.

“You really love your brother, huh?”

“I do.” he lowered the phone as the video played. “I love all of my brothers equally and as deeply. As the oldest, it's my duty to protect them and care for them.”

“Hmm.” you mused as you sat next to him while he replied to the messages. You stared out into the fields before you and leaned back, the silence keeping you company.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Hm?”

You tapped your finger against the bench, trying to form the question in your head.

“I've noticed that you don't… really emote much? Not outside of fighting, I mean. Not that that's a bad thing! I was just curious.”

“Hm.”

The silence made you acutely aware of an uncomfortable pit in your stomach, already regretting asking a question that probably drew more attention to how different he was.

Something you already know he struggles with.

“Hey, uh, you don't have to answer–”

“I'm not the best at expressing myself.”

You paused, tilting your head at him in surprise. His face was still focused on the screen.

“Emotions are draining. It takes so much energy to smile, to cry, to laugh. I can feel it all, and I embrace it– it helps me feel the slightest bit human, but it's hard to convey that. I'm aware oftentimes it makes me come across as uncaring, so I'm thankful for learning about emojis and stickers. Hopefully they can get across my feelings better when I talk to others.”

He turned to you, head tilted ever so slightly.

“Sorry if you’ve been uncomfortable all this time.”

“What- no!” You waved a hand. “It’s not a big deal, I was just curious! It kinda makes sense in a way, lots of people are like that.”

“..Are they?” You didn't miss how his eyes widened just a touch at this. You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, some people can speak their mind, while others struggle. It's just a part of being human, I think. It doesn't make you weird or anything like that! Y'know, Nanami also tends to be straight faced, it adds to his vibe.”

“Yes, but I'm also aware that his 'vibes' make him incompatible outside of sorcery work. He doesn't seem to like to entertain Yuji or the other children when they're having fun, unlike Gojo.”

“What, do you wanna be like Gojo then?”

You watched as his face scrunched up in response, the line across his nose becoming uneven.

“I would rather be exorcised, actually.”

You paused at this before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Choso watched as joyful tears rolled down your cheeks, grin stretching from ear to ear. The mark on his nose settled into a warmer, more bubby form as a gentle smile appeared on his face.

A smile that you caught as you opened your eyes, your heart skipping a beat.

“..Hey, Choso?”

“Mh-hm?”

Your smile softened as well, cheeks tingling from your earlier outburst.

“You have a very handsome smile.”

The male tensed at this, covering his face as he turned away. You grinned at his bashfulness, nudging him slightly.

“Oh, c'mon! Can't take a compliment?” you teased, watching his ears turn a few shades darker. He tried to shoo you away with his free hand, only succeeding in making your playful bullying more insistent.

Expressionless or not, you knew that when Choso felt things, he felt them with everything he had.

That being said, you made sure to treasure the memory of his smile for the rest of your days, a rare treat for you and you only.

[les-pompiers118]

Don't Worry Baby (a 9-1-1 ficlet)

Buck/Tommy | Rated Teen and up | 2K words

Summary: It's technically not their second date, but sometimes you just have to see where the night takes you. In this case, to the ocean. Notes: Set between 7x05 and 7x06, and incorporating some of Lou's backstory for Tommy from this video.

“Well,” Buck exhales, when he and Tommy step out into the muted hum of a balmy Los Angeles evening, “I think that went a lot better than our first date.”

Tommy stops and holds up a finger in admonition. “Ah, ah.”

“Right. Not a date. Just a— What did we call it?”

“A low-stakes, no-pressure evening of fun and getting to know each other.”

“Yeah, that.” 

No matter what they’re calling it, tonight was actually great, Buck muses while they walk toward the lot where Tommy parked his truck. Buck’s not a great bowler himself, but he’s found that—as with a lot of games—the competitiveness and friendly trash talk are at least half the fun. He felt more in his element, more relaxed. Buck didn’t mind at all that Tommy won both rounds easily, with his usual confidence and charm. And he looked damn good doing it, too. God, there’s something about the sheer fucking size of him and the way he carries himself that make Buck a little weak in the knees.

“You did have a good time, I hope?” Tommy asks, sounding cautious after Buck apparently got lost in his thoughts for a few beats too long.

“Totally. Yes.” Buck glances back at the bowling alley entrance with a rueful expression. “Though I kind of wish…”

“Mmm?”

“I kinda wish that we could’ve had more of the ‘getting to know each other’ part, I guess? On the other hand, with all the noise and the music, I was a lot less likely to put my foot in my mouth again. So that was a plus.”

“Evan.”

“I know I kind of blew it last time,” Buck winces.

Tommy steps in front of Buck, forcing him to stop. He touches Buck’s wrist lightly. “Hey. If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Here… on our evening of low-stakes, platonic fun?” Buck asks with a small, playful smile.

“Hmm. I don’t remember ever using the word platonic.” Tommy lets that sink in for a second as he pointedly looks at Buck’s mouth. “Tell you what. I’ll take you to one of my favorite places in L.A. and we can talk for a while. That is, unless you have a shift in the morning.”

“No. No, I don’t.” Buck ducks his head, grinning. Feeling just so goddamn buoyant, all of a sudden. “I’d love that. Where are we going?”

“Why don’t we let it be a surprise?”

Read the rest on AO3

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

i would love to see you write a story on this <3

i’ve always had an idea of like a painter sugarboo, other than baking and selling their sweets they love to destress by painting, and one day they got an offering to make 2 large paintings for an art museum, so what did they was make 2 huge portraits of seth and alphonse without telling them and took them as a surprise to show them how they’ve become sugar’s muse.

Your beauty is captured for eternity.

Me trying to come up w paintings: ffuuucckkk Me trying to explain said paintings: fffuucckkk

Sugarboo felt excited to see their boy's reaction to seeing the painting's that they took up a challenge. It was about love, it could be either romantic or platonic as long as you draw a painting with love. Boo who loved their hobby so much decided to do it, even ended up winning because of how well they conveyed it.

"Boo, you gonna tell us what the challenge was about?" Curiously asking Alphonse looked at his partner. Who only gave a giggle at the question, they couldn't just tell them.

"Nope! That connects to what I made of the paintings!" Cryptic words made Al pout as he parked the car. Seth sighed as they finally got to the Art museum the suit he was wearing was kinda itchy.

"How long do we gotta be here? All these rich lookin' folks making me nervous..." Mumbling a bit Seth turned his head as he got out. There was a lot of rich people to see the paintings and other contestants that tried to win the prize.

Which was to get their paintings shown to the public. Along with a special spot in the area dedicated to paintings of love. And finally a $15,000 dollars for the grand prize, since the Art museum bought the paintings.

"Just long enough for everyone to see my painting. But to make it up to you, with the money were going to get I'll pay for dinner anywhere you want." Smiling, Boo giggled when both boys looked at them when Sugarboo said something about money. But before they could ask the director of the event saw the trio and rushed to them.

"You must be Mx. (Y/N) and their plus two, please come with me. My name is Evelyn and I'll be escorting you to the area where your art will be displayed." A sweet old lady with a bob said. The trio quickly followed after her and chatted on the way there. Evelyn told them how there were many people wanting to see who won the contest.

"They were surprised when the Art museum chose two instead of one. But the owner of the museum just could help but put the two you submitted together, the summary behind them touched his heart." Explaining Evelyn smiled at the men behind Boo. Alphonse opened hos mouth to say something but a man in a very expensive suit interrupted him.

"Ah! Is this the amazing artist responsible for me shedding tears?" Joking the old tanned man gave a smile, showing off his dimples. "But happy tears, the summary you submitted for both of them, was just so touching. You are an amazing artist." Complementing the man gently took Sugarboo's hand and smiled.

Alphonse and Seth couldn't help but smile hearing this, Boo was amazing. But they were curious on the summary the two paintings had to be stayed together than choosing one.

"Thank you! It was a honor to hear that you accepted them Mr. Gonzalez!" Excitedly saying Boo shook the man's hand. The director let go and looking at the boy's, snapped his finger's.

"You two are the ones in the painting, yes?" The question made the boys pause but then Mr. Gonzalez turned to Sugarboo, "Please, call me Mateo. Mr. Gonzalez was my father."

"Wait. That question earlier-" Alphonse, still caught on that earlier question was about to ask but the graying man clapped his hands. Causing multiple people to look at him, Mateo turned and with a snap of his finger's the lights turned off.

"Sugar, what did he say about us?" Whispering quietly, Seth was trying to understand what the old man meant. But Mateo had a spot light on him as he began a speech, so Seth quieted himself.

"As you all know, I love art. That's how I met my late wife. She was my muse, my inspiration, and the reason why I built this Art museum. So, in honor of her memory I made a challenge." Soft words spoke and everyone was on the edge of their seat. "I wanted any artist to paint paintings of someone they loved. Giving me a summary of why, they love that person so deeply. So passionately that they are the muse to the artist. No matter if it was platonic or romantic."

The tanned man gestured Sugarboo to come to him, smiling they walked to him slowly. Placing a well worn out hand, from years of creating art for and of his wife. Mateo showed Sugarboo off as he continued his speech.

"This artist, Mx. (Y/N) (L/N) submitted two paintings. Of their boy's, as they so lovingly call them. The painting's of both of them made me shed a tear. Thinking of my late wife, how I focused on only her when creating art for she was my muse. But, this artist had two muses." Explaining more, Mateo turned to the covered painting's. Nodding to Evelyn who gave the go ahead to one of the workers to drop the coverings.

The painting on the left was Alphonse, the pinkette was sitting across from the viewer. Looking softly at them, holding their hand on the counter. Behind Alphonse you could see a candy shop, all types of candies you could ever want. Looking like a candy land for you to get lost in, but Alphonse didn't look at that he only looked at the viewer with a soft smile.

the pastel punk looked at the painting in awe,quickly blinking so he could look at it longer. However Seth was focused on the painting on the right.

The second painting had Seth sitting on some type of chair, looking at the viewer. A wide smile with a challenging look in his eyes, while his outfit looked dirty from oil. Tools laying around on the floor as the motorcycle, beautifully detailed was in front of him. But the brunette only looked at the viewer, holding their hand as if asking them if they wanted a ride on the bike.

Seth felt a tear fall, shocked seeing him painted, with love? Now he realized why they didn't tell the two men the theme. Turning his head he saw Alphonse wiping a tear away, sniffing to try and not cause a scene. But both looked up at Sugarboo who was giving them a look they could only describe of just love.

"These paintings, the left is Alphonse and right is Seth. Both show them in their most comfortable space." Giving more context Mateo continued as Boo went to their boy's. "Alphonse, has a candy shop owned that was owned by his parents. (Y/N) has written that they see how hard he works, trying to keep it afloat. How he loves the candies he sells to anyone who wants them, even with all of that stress he always makes an effort to focus on (Y/N). The artist loves how he's so considerate of them, with this painting they showed us how he looks only at them."

Hugging them Alphonse buried his head in their shoulder, sniffing as Boo rubbed his back. But, Mateo continued with a smile seeing the two holding each other.

"Seth, who has had an interesting life. Has turned rugged, (Y/N) fondly told me how he was an asshole when first meeting. However, one getting to know him, they feel in love how protective he is of those he loves. The painting show's his Harley, which he loves dearly. Seth has always been a wildcard and (Y/N) loves his free spirit, shown as he has that look in his eyes. But even with his free spirit he always try's to include them, wanting to give them a wild ride. And that's what (Y/N) loves about him."

Turning to Sugarboo for confirmation, seeing the nod made him tear up even more as he got pulled into the hug. People awed a that and clapped for the trio, seeing the love they had for each other.

"Fuck. I love ya, you know?" Croaking out, Alphonse looked at Boo and kissed them. Smiling into the kiss, Boo gave back the love he was giving them. The turned to do the same with Seth who laughed holding them tight.

"And now you all now know why I couldn't just pick one of the painting's." Mateo looked at the crowd, "This trio, loves each other. The bond between them is strong, many things were thrown at them but they prevailed. With their love becoming stronger together."

"Sugar, I'm crying so hard over here, god dammit." Lightly scolding Seth rubbed at his eyes. Getting a laugh from Alphonse, making the brunette glared at him.

"Yeah Boo, thought this would be a fun experience. Now I'm sobbing in front of people." Pouting slightly, Alphonse leaned on Boo. Seth nodded and also leaned on the baker and artist.

"I'm sorry, I wanted this to be a surprise. I was so happy that your beauty was captured for eternity I didn't think you two would cry." Sheepishly saying, the two men chuckled as they heard that. Both couldn't help but feel happy, knowing that Sugarboo had them as their muses for this challenge of love.

There is a saying, 'When an artist falls in love with you, you never die.' You'll forever exist on lines, poetry, lyrics, paintings, and photos. You're immortal that way.

[double--hh]

Henry, reluctantly exploring the Astral Circle Appartment Complex, "I swear, I hear a little girl around here, sound like shes nine or something... where's her parents?!"

Quachil, manifesting itself through a wall, "Mmm, I'm 15, so shut the fuck up."

___

*~imagine phones exist in the 50s~*

Ciprianni- can you shrow the hole vid

Steven- *show *whole

Ciprianni- I'm from Italy!!!!!!!!!!

Steven- I pound dudes!!!!!

___

Teutates, writing a very strongly worded letter to Abducius, "Yo, bro, what should I start this off with?"

Ah Puch, "...to whom it may aggravate?"

Teutates, "...Shit, no, that's now the title of a song, think of something else."

___

Anastacha, walking with her friends, "If you remove all veins, arteries, and capillaries from your body and lay them end to end, you will die...or whatever."

One of her friends, "...I'm starting to see why your dad left."

___

Robertsky, walking outside in a torrential thunderstorm, "I got a pocket full of sunshine... why'd you make me ginger?!"

Insert Robertsky getting struck by lightening.

___

Nacha, sitting in Mia & W's apartment with Mia, holding some failed essays from Anastacha...

Mia, "Nacha, I'm getting pretty worried about Anastacha, like, look at what she wrote for one of her essay openers, 'Buckle your seatbelts boys and girls, Teacher or whoever is reading this at this spectacular time in your life.. da-da-da... so sit down and shut up and listen to my 3-AM-Monster-Energy-ADHD-Medicine-Induced-Self-Hatred-Fulled-Extravaganza about the Industral Revolution... or whatever.'"

Nacha, sighing and pinching her eyebrows, "Why am I not surprised... That's the last time I'm letting Francis help her with school work."

___

Mia, two seconds away from a mental break down, knocking on the Rudboys' door.

Steven answers, "Oh! Mia! What's up?"

Mia, eye twitching, "Steven, take me to the range before I pull my hair out."

Steven, nodding, "Lemme grab Ciprianni, meet me downstairs."

~20 minuets later~

Mia, unloading a full magazine at moving targets, hitting all of them.

Ciprianni, mildly concerned, "How... the hell is she doing that?!"

Steven, watching her, "Man, she was a WAC, armorer type. Kinda in her blood."

Ciprianni, shaking his head, loading his pistol, "You Americans concern me."

___

Izaack, writting frivolously in his notebook, "Mn-hm, and anything else you'd like to add?"

Mia, chuckling, "Ah, yes, list the source as... 1984 by Gorge Orwell."

Izaack, stopping mid sentence and slowly glares at Mia, frowing, "...You did not just quote another book and passed it off as facts about the Trojan Horse Project again... did you?"

Mia, taking a sip of her coffee, "What? So I'm the bad guy for reccomenting you more books to read after your 'minute and minute' fiasco earlier today, Gauss?"

Izaack, scribbling out everything except for the book title, flipping it shut, "I'll have you know, Ms. Stone, I read every damn day and our teleprompter is new!"

Mia, smiling, "Oh you're such a phony, Izaack, it's amusing."

Izaack, snapping a finger at her, "Ah! Catcher in the Rye! J.D. Salinger!"

Mia, nodding, "So you do take my recommendations!"

___

The Schmicht's, moving into the Apartment, "Oh, Gloria, I think we did just right chosing this place!"

Gloria, smiling, "Yeah, yeah, watch there be some sort of fanclub for your novels!"

Anold, placing a box down, "Heh, I doubt it! I'm still trying to find a time and place for a meet and greet!"

The Sverchzt's, Lois, Margrette, and Rafttellyn, looking up from the stair case,

"Oh my god, is that the Arnold Schmicht?!"

"You think he can give up an early copy of Ceasefire of Hostility?!"

"I have GOT to get his signature!"

"Do you think we can invite the both of them to tomorrow's meeting?! He said his wife is his muse from the last interview!"

Gloria looks out the door and watches the group of book nerds scramble down the stairs, whispering to eachother.

"Bubbles, because you live on the same floor, you better share the spoilers!"

"Oh hush I will!"

Arnold, "Who was that, sweetie?"

Gloria, "Your fanclub."

[queermentaldisaster]

“The Hunt Is My Muse”

Hello! The first chapter of my shifter!au fic is here! This one is gonna be a long one, so you better strap in. This one is gonna be so much fun! I'm so excited to introduce you all to the intricacies of this AU i have plotted out.

Tags: @forestshadow-wolf @spicyspicyliving @bringinsexybackk69 (If you wanna be added or removed, leave a reply, tell me in a reblog, or shoot me an ask. Reblogs are greatly appreciated.)

Chapter under the cut.

Chapter 1: "Steel and Silver Sing For Justice"

“No.” He said, being adamant about this. “I’m not working with him on this.”

Price exhaled, his eyebrows furrowed. “Ghost, you will be working with Sergeant MacTavish on this.”

“And do you remember what happened the last time we worked together?” Ghost huffed, crossing his arms. 

Price closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ghost, this isn't a discussion. We need both you and the sergeant on the field for this one. If it makes you feel better, you'll be working with Commander Phillip Graves as well as Colonel Vargas and Sergeant Major Parra.”

“It does not, but it's not like I have a bloody choice, eh?” Ghost asked, his eyes narrowed under the mask.

Price exhaled once more. “No, no you don't.”

“Of course.” Ghost mumbled, turning around and leaving.

That was a few days ago. Now he was sitting in the helo next to Soap, the Scot rambling about something. Honestly, he'd tuned Soap out a while ago. He stared at the ground, feeling the urge to shift, that feeling like deep-rooted anxiety deep in his gut, bubbling up. He clenched one of his hands into a fist, taking deep breaths. ‘In for three, hold for three, out for three.’ He thought, repeating that in his head as he continued breathing.

When he looked back up, Soap was giving him a weird look. “What?” Ghost asked. Soap shook his head. “Nothin’, ye just looked nervous is all. Ye alright?” He responded, his voice soft and calm. Ghost looked away. “‘M fine, sergeant. Worry about yourself.” He whispered. Soap arched an eyebrow. “Lt, ye clearly ain’t fine. Just talk tae me, please.” The younger man pleaded.

Ghost shook his head, as the helo landed “No, Soap. I’m fine. We need to focus on the mission.” He stood up. Soap huffed. “Fine.” he said as he stood up. “But ah dinnae believe ye.” He muttered. Ghost looked back at him. “You don’t have to believe me.”

The helo opened and Ghost walked down the ramp, Soap at his side. The Colonel, Alejandro Vargas, walked forward to meet them. “Alejandro!” Soap exclaimed, offering his hand for a handshake. Alejandro took it with a polite; “Sergeant MacTavish.” 

Soap chuckled, his smile growing ever wider. “Call me Soap,” he said as the two men pulled away from the handshake. Alejandro looked to Ghost. “Lieutenant. Laswell says they call you Ghost.” He murmured. Soap cut in. “Actually, I believe he prefers to be-”

So Ghost cut him off. “That’ll do.” He said, looking back to Alejandro and nodding. Alejandro nodded. “You two shifters?” He asked, and it was a simple question. But one that Ghost did not answer. But Soap nodded. “Ah’m a red fox shifter.” Alejandro smiled. “Ocelot here. Let's go.” He turned around and led Ghost and Soap towards an armored vehicle.

Ghost and Soap climbed in the back. Alejandro got into the passenger seat. “This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.” He murmured, and Rodolfo looked at the two in the back seat. “Hello.” He murmured, before saying something to Alejandro in Spanish.

“Where’s Hassan?” Ghost asked. Alejandro smirked. “Cartel safe-house, ten clicks from here.” Ghost nodded, and the vehicle began driving, two more behind it.

Ghost honestly kinda zoned out on the drive through the city. At some point, he heard Soap say something to him about kids, guns and balloons, and Rodolfo said something about his mask, but he was too busy trying to ignore that damned feeling in his gut.

Ghost didn't shift. Not since Zaragoza and Roba. He used to, even with his dad's abuse, albeit rarely, but he couldn't anymore. Not when all it brought up were memories of pain and suffering. So he let the animal in him fester.

It would never get out again.

[deadlysoupy]

finally starting to watch a playthrough of Expedition and... as much as i was skeptical about, well, everything... i'm kinda infatuated with it???

i'm halfway through and i surprisingly like how they did Bumblebee here. he's not totally in-character if you consider the show, but they wanted to put him in an unconventional situation, which i respect. of course, this is just a kid's game (plainly obvious, looking at the budget and the dialogue), they could have done something simple and plotless, but:

(cont after read more cause the other one is broken)

instead, as far as i can tell, they force Bee to have hand-to-hand combat (which he's!!! not proficient in!!! bc he's a scout!! actually legit characterization and reasoning), to be alone again (a questionable decision bc why can't the Terrans help him out but that's another topic). he has doubts throughout, he doesn't actually wants to do the job, he gets legit angry at Mandroid - which is one of the few signs of genuine anger he displayed in this continuity - he actually talks about his feelings with Alex, which is always nice to see

overall, so far i'm actually enjoying it. it's not the best thing in the world, but it's better than i thought it would be. HUGELY expensive at the fault of capitalism and probably isn't worth it, but some moments this far really stuck to me. some interesting ideas here and there, nothing major lore-wise or background-wise, a little bit of terminology and semantics like "aft" and "vocal actuator" and the likes, nice, not too complicated plot. 7/10. probably. eh

here's my musings and screenshots just for fun

Alex's "isn't that what you're always telling us?" got to me a lot... like YES, he encourages everyone all the time, but it's seldom someone can comfort him in turn! it's so sweet!! sure hope this isn't a one-time thing just for the games! sure fucking hope so!!!!

AAAAAAAH WHAT THE FUUUUCK GHHUHUHHUHGH

ah yes. mentor slander. good times

also what the fuck is this line. its just as confusing out of context as in context. is he talking about himself or Mandoid? or possibly both?..

[tealfling]

Tiefling Spice.

A/N: I’m new to writing fanfiction, and honestly, don't know how any of this works, but I just had to because of Astarion. I think I thought of all the labels.

Summary: Amaranth muses over the taste of blood with her favorite traveling companion, Astarion.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Tav

Tags: tiefling tav, named tav, flirting, banter, somewhere between Act 1/ beginning Act 2, some innuendo

Tav: Amaranth, purple tiefling Cleric

"Hot Cinnamon."

"What?" Astarion turned to Amaranth confused. The purple tiefling had taken to reading beside him in his tent lately, but her book--some spell tome-- had laid ignored in her lap for the past serval minutes. Her white gaze fixated on nothing in the distance as a finger wrapped and looped a long curl of her silver hair. He'd noticed she usually did this when she thought, but he couldn't figure out where her mind had been to say such a thing.

Amaranth faced him with a deadpan expression, "Karlach. I bet her blood tastes like a hot cinnamon kind of spiced drink."

Astarion chuckled in the soft way he did when he was caught off guard, snapping his book shut, then setting it to the side. That conversation had been so long ago, that he was surprised she remembered. "Interesting," he drawled considerately. "She does seem like a sweet spiced burn, doesn't she?" He remarked, regaining his flirtatious air. "But Darling, I'm hurt, here you sit in my company while your mind wanders to another?" he said with mocked melancholy.

Amaranth replied, "Well, I was watching you drink, then I thought about blood, and then I remembered when you asked me what I thought the others might taste like." Astarion watched Amaranth chatter away. Silver freckles danced like starlight across purple cheeks as she hurriedly walked him down her train of thought. "...and then the campfire reminded me of toasted marshmallows, which is how Karlach kinda smells, and then I remembered you asking what the other's blood might taste like...."

The pale elf hummed, mostly watching Amaranth's expressions animate across her face as she spoke rather than listening to her words. His ruby gaze occasionally returned to her plum fingers twisting and raveling that one pearly curl section.

"HEY. Star?"

"Hmm? Yes?" Astraion responded, startled back to the moment by an intense tone and a new name she never called him before. He realized the weight of the silence settling between them. There was a question he hadn't answered and a concerned expression slowly knitting across the face before him.

"Are you okay? You didn't answer my question and I thought I lost you there for a second." Amaranth said gently while trying to hold a playful air. Her eyes were soft, but keenly watching his face for tells.

Deciding he needed to redirect this change in mood, Astarion brushed his long fingers through his bangs, setting a coy smile on his face. "Apologies, Darling, it seems I became distracted admiring those adorable freckles of yours," he thrummed, hoping to fluster his company.

Not today.

Amaranth placed both hands between them, exposed arm muscles flexing to support her as she leaned into his space, face only a few inches lower from his as he retreated a bit from the unexpected invasion. She paused, taking in his wide-eyed expression, unsure. Mirroring his earlier tone, she repeated, " I said. You still haven't told me how I tasted." Her faux sultry look surveyed his face, constantly assessing him, ready to pull back. His pupils dilated, but not much else changed. It only took a moment for his face to settle, ready to unleash a counterattack. She held up a finger, " Ah, and before you throw 'delicious' at me again, it makes for a cute compliment, but rather too vague for a proper description," she said, sitting back on her tucked legs, giving Astarion breathing room. "We both know you can do better than that," she teased. Her tail tip swayed playfully, as she crossed her arms, awaiting his response.

Being on the back foot was Aatarion's least favorite place to be, but lately, Amaranth seemed to be getting the better of him in their little game. Although vexing at times, perhaps it meant his plan was working, that she was falling for him. While it made the game more challenging, her riposte was also, admittedly, more fun. Her initial intrusion toward his person overwhelmed him, an uneasy spark flitting in his stomach. But she just, hovered there, allowing him to adjust. Her tiefling heat permeated the span between them. As she went on, talking about blood, wondering about her flavor, all the while the very thing loudly and visibly pulsed in the neck inches from his face, the scent so strong he could taste it. It irked him that he had to restrain himself from inhaling it deeply. He didn't wish for her to take the impression he might be wanting.

No, Astarion needed to restrategize. Turn this back on her. He sat up, readjusted his shirt, then rested his arm on his bent knee. "Oh, come now my Dear? Where's the fun in that?" he goaded with a flip of the wrist. "You need to guess."

"You're not going to tell me?" the tiefling asked, taken aback. Her pearl-colored brows furrowed.

The pale elf inhaled through his teeth to drawl, "It's hardly a challenge if I tell you now, isn't it Darling?"

"Seriously? How am I supposed to guess? The few times I've tasted my blood, it was either flavorless or reminded me of copper!" she huffed.

"Well," he paused considering, "maybe I'll tell you... If you beg," he ribbed with a small chuckle. Astarion watched as Amaranth bristled. He liked getting a rise out of her. For a moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of her tell when a salacious thought crossed her mind, but, alas, her pewter brow furrowed deeper instead. Amaranth pouted, sucking in the corner of her lip. He'd seen her do this in frustration before, a glimpse of the tiny ivory tip of her tiefling fang baring down on her bottom lip in annoyance. Astarion hated it when she bit her lip this way, the last few times she'd done it, he felt like he might want to bite it too.

For a bit, the only sound between them was the soft, irritated thump of Amaranth's tail on the floor. Her diamond eyes locked in a scowl toward his crimson ones. How hard was it for him to give a little? The question shouldn't be that hard. None of the others at camp were willing to give him their blood, but he'd had intelligent blood in battle before. So between those and their...schedule...by now he surely should have had a working flavor profile of comparison. He was just toying with her. Being told her blood smelled good was--novel, but no one had said why. And Amaranth had to know.

"Fine," she sighed, adopting a look of indifference.

Astarion lifted a single white brow but said nothing. Waiting. He watched as she lifted her long hair back in a stretch, noting the strategic reveal of his favorite part of her neck. The tiefling stood pretending to dust off her thick thighs.

Amaranth continued with a feigned defeated huff, " I guess I'll just go ask my other favorite monstrosity what I taste like. He also thinks I smell delicious and he has been begging for a bite." The tiefling dramatically spun on her heel to face the exit.

"What!? Who?!" Astarion jolted up in a panic.

The purple tiefling whipped around with a giggle, "The owlber cub. You silly goose." Her gentle gaze met his unsure round eyes as he cautiously approached. Damn. That look made her weak. Though, it was quickly countered by his repulsed shrill.

"THE OWLBEAR CUB?" Astarion exclaimed. "That filthy thing?"

Amaranth clicked her tongue, "Oh, now, don't be like that. I know you secretly like him."

"I do not." Astartion puffed, sticking up his nose, and crossing his arms.

"Did you forget, Star, that one of my many talents is Beast Speech?" Amaranth hummed. His ears perked, glancing at her when he heard what he supposed was a new pet name of hers. "I know you let him cuddle you while you read. Don't worry, he likes you, too." The elf rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue. A little too dramatic to be real.

"Anyway," she continued slowly, rocking on her feet, " I guess if you have nothing more to say, then I'll see you for supper." Amaranth conspicuously added, "Unless, I'm utterly devoured first. I don't know if the owlbear cub has ever eaten tiefling before."

"You'd better well not be!" snapped Astarion, playfully. "You know I don't like sharing," he quipped.

Amaranth felt her cheeks pull into an easy smile. This was her favorite type of banter. "I'll see what I can do. There's a chance I'm quite tasty." She smirked, stepping closer to Astarion. "Perhaps I'll offer him a toe? As a treat?" Amaranth made a sweeping gesture to feet. "Definitely, not the tail. I'd miss it too much." She whipped it for emphasis. Astarion chuckled taking a step closer. Amaranth made a low thoughtful hum. "What else?" She pondered, making exaggerated finger taps to her pouty bottom lip. "Ah! What's your least favorite finger?" Amaranth cheerfully beamed, wiggling her fingers beside her face.

Resting his hand on his chin, Astarion looked quite statuesque. He regarded each amethyst palm with careful consideration, before snatching her right wrist in a firm grasp, eliciting a surprised eep from her lips.

Amaranth froze.

Her eyes immediately locked on his face. Trying to read him. When did he get so close? She took careful, calculated breaths. Unsure of what he would do, she waited to see how to react.

Astarion brought her hand closer to his face. With a cool, nonchalant expression, he studied the hand more closely under a discerning red gaze. Using his free hand, he judiciously traced each of her fingers with his, leaving a trail of tingles in his wake. His eyes were observantly fixed on his task. Her eyes were glued to his every movement. He used his own fingers to splay hers more open.

Had his hands always been so much bigger?

Separating her index finger from the rest, "Not this one, Darling," he said in a luscious purr, "It's my favorite." Finally, he met her stare with a sinful gaze as he kissed the very part of her finger that touched her own lips not a short time ago.

Shit.

Amaranth tried to control the exhale that escaped her, but she could feel her nostrils flare. It was obvious between them that she had been holding her breath. She hadn't expected this. He grinned fiendishly as he worked toward the next finger.

"Actually, my Dear, I don't want to part with any of your delectable digits," he droned, brushing his lips across all her fingers. He turned her wrist up, pressing a kiss down on her pulse.

Using the new angle, Amaranth took the chance to caress his cheek with the tips of her fingers that could reach. He flinched, and she retracted her fingers.

"I didn't know you were so jealous of a baby owlbear," she mused softly.

He scoffed, "I'm not," releasing her wrist, but leaned his cheek into her hand. "You're just too important to lose your delightful hands. Could you imagine if we had to rely on only Shadowheart and -ugh- Gale for spells and healing?" He smirked, but his words sounded more sincere than he intended.

"What about Wyll?"

"Ah ha! Wyll doesn't count," he said smugly, causing the tiefling to roll her eyes.

Amaranth gingerly trailed her finger over his cheekbone, barely touching his skin. She used it to move her favorite white curl behind his ear. Enjoying the way the pointed tip flushed. For a second, she caught a glimpse of those sad, round eyes he liked to hide, the ones that made her knees weak.

"Well," she sighed, lowering her hand, "I guess I'd better go help with dinner so that everyone that actually needs food gets fed. It's not fair to make them suffer through so much of Gale's cooking when I'm right here." She joked.

Astarion shifted uneasily, running his fingers through his hair. This was something new he occasionally did, like he wanted to say something, but held back. With Astarion and Shadowheart, she knew better than to press. They needed room to open.

"And what about you?" She inquired pleasantly, "Will you be dining out or ordering room service?"

He paused as if weighing his options before replying, "That depends on what's on the menu tonight?" His rakish grin appeared on his face.

Amaranth lamented in jest, "Unfortunately, only the same old thing that's on the menu every night. However," she perked, struck with an idea, "If you want, I could try to see how many spices I can add to change the flavor?"

"Oh, please, Darling, you're salty enough already." Astarion poked, waving her off with a hand before resting it on his hip.

The tiefling gaped, pushing his shoulder back, "Fine! Garlic breath it is, saer!!" she hissed flippantly. Revolving on the balls of her feet and stomping toward the threshold.

"Wait!" Amaranth hadn't reached the drapes before Astarion's long fingers grazed her arm, stopping her in her tracks faster than a Hold spell. "I was just teasing." He purred.

That was obvious. She replied flatly, "I know," still facing the entrance, trying to hide how happy she was that he stopped her.

"So, you'll come back later?" he asked from behind. It sounded like he was trying to be indifferent.

"Maybe. I don't know. I have other monstrosities I have to feed, you know." she tossed over her shoulder, acting aloof.

She felt Astarion close in behind her. He pulled back her hair, whispering into her ear, "But, you said I'm your favorite, right my Sweet?" Feeling his long fingers caress through the hair at the base of her neck caused her core muscles to flex. Electric tingles danced down her spine. SHIT.

"Yeah," she breathed, "you're my favorite." Amaranth turned her chin up toward his words. Noticing how very close their mouths were. And how very little it would take to close the gap. She could feel the warmth crawling across her cheeks. This fucking cheat was getting the better of her. Amaranth could feel her mind already lulling, she had to do something.

If she let him win now, she'd be here all night, the others would surely come looking for her. And the ones that would come were the ones that would react the worst to finding him fangs deep in her throat...If that's how they found them...

They still had chores to do before nightfall. Before the others stopped checking in with her.

The right thing to do would be to take a pause. She needed to tap out. Before she could lose her will, the purple tiefling popped up on her toes, landing a quick peck on his lips.

"I'm still eating garlic," Amaranth piped, darting out of Astarion's tent.

[broodwolf221]

Happy DADW Friendo!! 👋💚

From your unusual word prompts: accismus - feigning disinterest in something while actually desiring it

If you’re feeling it, maybe for Fenders? Otherwise do whatever pairing is tickling your muse uwu

hello and thank you toby! this was so fun /u\ writing fenders is always like going back to my dragon age roots fr @dadrunkwriting 954 words cws: kinda nsfw at the end

“Why must Hawke insist on bringing you along?” Fenris asked abruptly, watching as Anders’ shoulders tensed beneath his ridiculous feathery pauldrons.

“For my charming personality, naturally,” the mage shot back after only a moment's hesitation and Fenris snorted.

“Play nice, you two,” Varric chided, although he sounded distracted. They were getting close to the warehouse, so Fenris swallowed any additional commentary and simply followed Hawke.

-

“Ah, yes, let us waltz through the Gallows with an apostate in our midst. This is wise.” Anders sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“I’d pay good sovereigns to see you waltz, Broody.”

“I’d pay good sovereigns to not,” Anders muttered, Fenris rolling his eyes at the both of them.

-

Fenris arched a brow as Anders sat across from him, the din of the tavern a familiar background noise as Varric dealt out everyone’s hands. “Do you even have coin to spare from your little charity?” Fenris asked as Anders was dealt in, the mage shooting him a glare.

“Yes, and I’ll thank you to not bring it up in public.” He only shrugged, glancing down at his hand again—but not without noticing Anders’ puzzled frown.

-

“Shit,” Anders exclaimed, hand against his chest. “Andraste’s flaming knickers,” he breathed as his hand dropped, eyes darting away as if embarrassed by his overreaction. “Why are you here?”

“Not much point to standing guard for an empty mansion,” was the only reply he offered, watching as Anders’ warm eyes settled on him again, although he refused to meet them.

“Wait. Let’s go over that again. You’re standing guard? For me?”

“For your clinic,” he corrected sternly, frustrated by the twitch of Anders’ lips. More frustrated by the wide grin that followed a moment later, the mage’s whole face lighting up with it.

“I’m sure all my patients will appreciate your dedication to duty,” he said and Fenris frowned at the coy edge of the words.

“I’m sure they will,” he agreed simply, crossing his arms over his chest. Anders stared for a moment longer, still grinning, before ducking back inside the clinic and returning to his duties.

-

The next time he’d come, a chair and a small table had been set up just outside the clinic entrance. He’d glared at them for a bit before sighing and sitting down—unbuckling his sword first, of course. He propped it against the wall beside him, crossing arms and legs as he waited for the inevitable. It took longer than usual, but eventually Anders did pop out for a breath of fresh—so to speak—air. 

“Like your new arrangements?” He asked smugly as he settled against the wall, although he was careful to avoid Fenris’ sword. He only grunted, seeing Anders’ grinning again in his periphery. “Figured you might as well be comfortable if you’ve decided to stand guard for me.”

“For your—”

“The clinic,” Anders interjected, his amusement evident, “I know.”

-

It went on that way for a little over a week before he was fed up. He was trying to do something good with his time, that was all. There was no other reason. All of Anders’ little smiles meant nothing. And if he felt something suspiciously like disappointment when the mage inevitably excused himself to go back in the clinic and continue his work, it was surely just for the return of boredom.

Except standing guard had never struck him as particularly boring before. He’d had ample experience with entertaining himself. But he tried to not dwell on the discrepancies here. All day long he’d been trying to tell himself that he simply would not go tonight. That surely Anders could take care of himself. He was a Grey Warden, after all, and a competent mage besides, loathe though Fenris was to admit it.

Yet, here he was. The familiar facade of the clinic before him. The small chair set out for him. Something almost comforting about the whole scene. But he knew that Anders was within.

He settled in the chair, but after a while realized that it was unusually quiet. He waited for a time, but when he could no longer deny his concern he rose, grabbed his sword, and entered the clinic proper.

Only to find Anders with his back turned to the door, head bowed. A bolt of something very like fear shot through Fenris and without being fully aware of it, he’d taken several long strides towards the mage. Anders’ head jerked up, eyes wide as he twisted in his seat, and Fenris noticed a scrap of parchment on the desk in front of him, a quill in his hand…

Ah.

“I thought that maybe—” he bit off his explanation with a shake of his head, embarrassed by his overreaction. 

And Anders was smirking again and he growled, a thick sound low in his throat, hand clenching tight around the hilt of his sword as Anders stood and faced him, as his hands came to settle on Fenris’ hips—

Like an inevitability, the crash of a tide against the shore, their lips met in a frenzy of hard, claiming kisses and biting. Fenris let his sword drop and pressed Anders against that small desk. Would’ve slotted between his legs had reality not reasserted itself. They were in the clinic. Patients might arrive at any moment.

So he pulled back with a deep breath, but softened it by bowing his forehead against Anders’.

“Tonight, mage,” was all he said, all he needed to say, Anders nodding and squeezing encouragingly at his hips before Fenris stepped back, grabbed his sword, and stiffly walked back outside to resume his position.

[fridayth13]

could've been the wine speaking (or maybe it was just me).

↳ diavolo × gn!reader (ft wingman lucifer. kinda hgdsdfgjj)

↳ fluff | 600+ | you heard of lucifer getting drunk and spilling his guts to diavolo now have some the other way around 👍 except he's a lot less dramatic about it

↳ it wasn't an anomaly for lucifer and diavolo to end a day of student council work with a bottle of demonus. but what lucifer did find a bit off-putting that night was the lovesick smile glued to the demon prince's face.

diavolo's eyes were half-lidded as he swirled the glass of demonus in his hand. his cheek rested in his palm with an elbow on the velvet armrest of his chair.

"and how has mc been doing?" he asked.

across him sat lucifer, who leaned forward to the glass table between them, refilling his own glass.

"they're doing well." he replied. "besides dealing the usual havoc my brothers cause at the house."

diavolo laughed warmly. "i see."

a (dare lucifer say) dreamy sigh slipped from the prince's lips as he got lost in his thoughts.

lucifer raised an eyebrow at him. not that he seemed to notice.

"it's study season again.. examinations are coming soon. i wonder if they've been managing to keep up." diavolo mused. more to himself than to lucifer, really.

lucifer watched as diavolo's head tilted slightly further in his hand; and for a moment, he couldn't help but think the demon prince resembled a small puppy. reflections of the nearby fireplace flickered against his eyes in a bright gold haze. from the liquor or whatever fantasies were keeping his head stuck in the clouds, lucifer couldn't be too sure.

"have you noticed anything bothering them, lucifer? anything at all?" he asked.

lucifer shook his head.

"why? have you?"

"..no.." diavolo murmured. "but i wanted to be sure. you know how important it is that their stay in the devildom is as comfortable as possible."

"of course," he nodded. "but.. you know you can ask them these questions yourself, right?"

diavolo blinked at him.

lucifer stared back, unimpressed.

though flustered, diavolo remained unabashed as ever, only laughing sheepishly in response. his hand went up to the back of his nape.

"ah.. yes, i suppose i can, huh?"

"yes." lucifer said. "you can."

at his deadpan tone, diavolo shot him a playful glare. not that it lasted long. soon enough, he was back to staring distantly at a random wall.

"you could also call them, if that helps."

diavolo hummed. he took another sip of his demonus and proceeded to lean against the other side of the couch.

"i suppose i see them so little i forget i can just. go up to them, huh.."

before lucifer could think of a response, diavolo had already jumped into another train of thought.

a bright laugh shook his shoulders, diavolo's eyes sparkling.

"i did see them yesterday though.."

"i believe i remember that."

"yes, i believe you were there.." he nodded.

lucifer was fully aware that this wasn't the first night diavolo had acted like this. but the sheer joy on his face when he talked about the human continued to strike him every time. the grin that rested on his friend's lips was smitten and foolish. the look his eyes resembled the expression of wonder of a child seeing a sky full of stars for the first time.

diavolo's laugh was always full of spirit, really, but this was one of the few times lucifer had ever heard it this giddy.

"heheh.. they brought me some cookies, d'you remember that, lucifer? mc told me i worked really hard and appreciated all of it, lucifer.. could you believe that?"

lucifer knew he didn't quite need to reply at this point. diavolo had had enough demonus to have an in-depth conversation about mc with his own self. still, the knowing smile hidden behind his glass continued to grow as the prince rambled on.

"i think i should call them right now.." diavolo mumbled.

lucifer shook his head. "they'd be asleep by now."

"oh. right."

"you can see them tomorrow at rad." he supplied instead.

diavolo gasped slowly. if he wasn't completely intoxicated before, he must've been then. the look in his eyes was positively starstruck at the proposition.

"yes.. i think i will."

divider from @/clutteredfun

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

For #ask the pack, first off not an ask but, I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT wait to see how innie joins the pack I’ve missed baby bread so much in the prequel. My ask is, without spoiling too much of the prequel, what was everyone’s moment where they knew they were in love with the rest of the pack? Like what was the thing that made you go “yep this is where I want to be for the rest of my life”.

"Umm, I don't think I really had a specific moment." Chan muses, thinking hard. "I knew for sure when Changbin showed me a picture of Hyunjin and (Y/N) that I had to meet and get to know them for some reason, but after that, I felt like it was all just a collection of small moments strung together for me? Like pieces of a puzzle finally coming together to form the big picture as we kept adding more members."

"Which made sense you felt that way when we discovered you were head alpha." Seungmin points out.

"I think for me, a big point of cementing my surety-especially about Chan-was when Felix had his heat and Hyunjin cycled at the same time, and I really got to see him for the first time in a sort of pack setting." You glance to Chan and give him a half smile. "I had already accepted the current members as pack, my wolf was sure, but watching Chan take care of and be careful with my packmates, that kinda helped finished settling things for me."

"I was happy with just (Y/N) and Hyunjin, I'll be honest." Changbin shrugs, arching a brow. "My alpha wasn't telling me anything big was missing or whatever. And then we met Jisung, and I kind of had this epiphany of "oh, we can just add to the love, not take away from it.'"

"And when he met Seungmin, he was a goner." Hyunjin teases, elbowing the alpha.

"Yeah, but that wasn't the point that did it I don't think." Changbin protests. "When it really hit me that I was in deep shit was when (Y/N) had her rut without us here."

"Ah yes." Minho smirks. "The cabin. Good times."

"Shut up." Changbin throws him a glare.

Minho smirks and settles back into the couch, unbothered. "I hated all of you at first, it's not a secret. I was all in for Jisungie, and I didn't want to let anyone in and see him get hurt."

"However-" He sighs, rolling his eyes. "The more time he spent with you, the more I saw his light return, and I knew, when he told me how much he loved all of you, I'd have to accept it. And then I watched you all take care of him, and I-"

"Fell in love with us." Hyunjin finishes teasingly with a triumphant smirk in the alpha's direction.

"Twenty minutes, Hwang Hyunjin." Minho threatens, but it doesn't hold his usual bite.

"I was head over heels the moment I accidentally ran into (Y/N) and Hyunjin in the lab." Jisung grins, winking at you theatrically. "And then they introduced me to Changbin, and I legitimately had dreams for days about him bench pressing me naked. I'm a sucker for pretty people. The ability to love me for who I am and help me through my moments of panic is just a bonus."

"I'm way too logical to ever let myself have a head over heels moment.' Seungmin interrupts their bickering, his expression serious. "I had to work my way through all the complex emotions starting with Changbin, and it took me a long time to admit to myself that biology had finally bested me when it came to the pack."

"Romantic." Jisung snorts, narrowly avoiding a well placed elbow from the other beta.

"It's cliche, but the moment I knew I would stay forever was when Felix joined us all, and everything suddenly felt like it was right where it needed to be." Hyunjin admits, glancing to the other omega with affection. "The icing on the cake was everyone else obviously."

"My moment was the same." Felix agrees with a nod. "Though I agree with noona, the first heat I ever spent with the pack was an important turning stone for me."

"I didn't know if I'd have a moment." Jeongin admits. "But then my presentation happened and watching how everyone came together to protect me and help me and guide me, well-" He shrugs sheepishly and Felix hugs him. "-I kinda liked that feeling."

"God, you're all being so sappy." Jisung complains teasingly, dramatically slumping on the couch between Seungmin and Changbin. "Let's just go back to fighting, please."

[jacks-little-jacky]

hiii could i request a headcanon (or fic) of jack & yami playing fuck, marry, kill (and they ask each other about fellow captains/Julius/Marx/Owen/Mereo included) thank u!! kekeke 💚

Fuck, Marry, Kill | Jack & Yami Shenanigans

I love this. Yes. Please ask me for bestie-content of my idiots. Also reading this a couple days later I just noticed I missed Owen, fuck, so sorry.

Warnings: consumption of alcohol, the men are talking and arguing about their choices and it's a shallow game, the b in their bromance almost escaping, mentioning of "this was so gay lmao"

Jack was spread over the couch of the black bull's base, the sun had already left for the darkness as he and the other Captain shared a few more drinks. They talked and chatted, the tension of the meeting regarding border secrutiy sliding off their shoulders.

"Yeah, did you see Nozel? He was all like 'My squad and I will rise up to the need..' ... Ugh, why does he talk like that?", Jack mocked. "Cause he's a fancy little prince with his fancy little prince talk.", Yami giggled.

"Fancy little braid.", Jack muttered before breaking out in a laughter. Yami couldn't help but howl out a laugh too. "But it's kinda cute, no? He has it done every morning just to be a presentable prince." Yami chuckled. "Very cute. Just like a shiny bird. Just too bad he can't attract a mate.", Jack snorted.

"He can't? That's news to me." "Yeah well, he doesn't have one. So he can't attract one he wants?" Jack changed his thought.

"Okay but I don't get his fanclub. Is it like... a bunch of groupies who wants him to step on them with those sandals?", Yami chuckled, leaning back in his seat before taking another swig of beer. "God, urk... Why do ya' make me imagine this?" "Do you like it, scarface?"

"No!" Jack yelled out before sticking out his tongue to illustrate his distaste. Yami couldn't help but further laugh at his friend's disgust.

"Ah... I have an idea." Yami mused. Jack raised an eyebrow at this, waiting for the bull to continue. "Fuck, marry, kill. Our pretty bird, William and the little one, Rill.", Yami mused. Jack thought for a while. "... You make me feel weird saying this but Fuck William, Marry Nozel and kill Rill.", Jack said after a while.

"Care to elaborate?" Yami asked, trying to hold in a laugh. "Rill is too young for me. What am I? A nobel? I'm not thinking about someone younger than twenty in that way, that's weird... So kill, besides he's kind of annoying." Jack reasons which makes Yami nod. "And Nozel... Well... He's a pretty bird. And imagine him married to me, that'd be his worst nightmare. That would be hilarious."

"So you'd marry Nozel just to spite him?" "And cut off his braid when he sleeps, keke!" Jack laughed which Yami heartily joined in. "What about you?"

"Honestly, kill Rill too, same reason. Marry William and fuck Nozel. I don't think seeing Nozel all that much would do me any good." Yami mused which Jack could only confirm in a nod.

"Me next," Jack decided, thinking for a moment about the next three candidates, "Dorothy, Charlotte, and Mereoleona." "All the girls, I see... Ugh... I don't know where to place Sisleon..." "Just kill her off?", Jack suggested. "I can't. I can't fuck or marry Dorothy, she's always asleep, that would be weird."

By now it was clear both of these men were thinking for this game.

"Okay... Kill Mereleona, fuck Charlotte, and marry Dorothy.", Yami decided after a while. "I think Dorothy would be chill, and I don't have to fuck her. Like... platonic marriage, we just say we completed the wedding. Or she wakes up, I don't know."

Jack nodded, thinking about his answer. "Honestly with the asleep point, you kinda did something. Kill Dorothy, fuck Mereoleona, and marry Charlotte, keke." "Marry Charlotte?", Yami asked with a raised brow.

"She's cute, isn't she?", Jack answered. "And I like tough women, keke." "I can see where you're coming from but... If you like tough how come you didn't pick Sisleon?" "I know Charlotte better." Jack shrugged it off.

"Oh?" "We patrolled together sometimes when our people were busy preparing for the exam.", Jack added before rolling his eyes.

"Okay... Fuegoleon, Kaiser and... me?", Yami suggested before chuckling. "... You're so weird, keke." Jack mumbled. "Are you like into me or why do you put yourself in the roster?" "We're out of people, scrawny dude!"

"... Alright... Uhh... Kill Kaiser, I'm not about to homewreck for someone like that." Jack muttered. "Like that?" "Aw c'mon he's boring! Maybe the missus is satisfied but I wouldn't be!... Anyways, kill Kaiser, fuck Fuegoleon and... Marry... You?", Jack said, getting a lot quieter towards the end. "Aw, are you blushing?", Yami asked before laughing loudly.

"Shut up! I'm not! It's just weird, keke!" Jack answered laughing too.

"Alright, for the roster; Me, Marx and our dear chief, Julius.", Jack said with a cocky grin. "... Julius? Are you serious?" Yami asked with a deadpan face which send Jack into a laughing fit.

"Man up to the challenge, keke!" "Alright, alright!", Yami called, raising his hands in the air, "Fuck Marx, Kill Julius because I can't do the other two with him, and Marry you."

"Aww, you'd marry me." Jack cooed before strechting out his tongue. "Go away and kill yourself.", Yami shot back as he watched Jack stumble off the couch toward him.

"Aww, don't be like that. Give your husband a kiss.", Jack giggled before creeping above Yami, caging him in his seat underneath the taller man.

"Jack, what the-" "Awww, are you blushing?", Jack teased, using the same tone Yami had pulled earlier on him. He leaned in a little. "Are you sure you're not into me?"

"Very.", Yami said before shoving Jack back by his face. The taller man stumbled back laughing before letting himself fall on the couch again.

There was a certain silence hanging in the air between them before Jack spoke up again. "This was the gayest fuck, marry, kill I've ever played, not gonna lie."

Yami couldn't help but laugh too and nod along.