#(i say 'mostly' because if one catches my eye i might take it anyways)

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

The JJK men want YOU to wear their jersey

Tags: JJK men x fem!Reader, college au, sports au, mostly fluff and/or crack, suggestive only on Toji’s (nasty bitch), itafushi makes an appearance

An: This has been heavy on my brain recently 🙂‍↕️ Also, I don’t know if this concept is only in like my area, but basically, the concept is that on game days, a common thing for highschool/college players to do is to wear their jersey to class, and their sweetheart wears their home/away jersey. it’s just a cute thing to show support. Another thing, I know Kamo is not Choso’s last name, and I know Sukuna is not Sukuna’s last name. Sukuna might not even be Sukuna’s name at all. idk and idc. this is a no curse au anyways so who cares! let me know if i should do more sports au :)

Incl - Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna

SATORU

Girls will literally hunt Satoru down to get his jersey from him, and if you were the lucky girl who got to wear the jersey of the star quarterback… you either became instantly popular, or every girl in the university wanted to kill you.

“I’m sorry, ladies. I already have someone in mind.” Satoru flashed a grin towards the crowd of girls surrounding his seat. Disappointed sighs and whines emitted from the group as they slowly dissipated from his desk.

Satoru couldn’t care less. They could be mad at him if they wanted to. They were no where near as special as the girl he had his eyes set on.

Class had yet to start, and Satoru was growing tired of just staring at the back of your head. He finally got up, and he slumped down in the chair next to you.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked with a bright smile. He hadn’t interacted with you much, but he always had his eye on you. You were the one of the few girls who didn’t dumb down their intelligence for him to make themselves more appealing.

“It’s not.” You replied shortly. You weren’t rude, just incredibly matter-of-fact.

“Wanna make a bet with me?” Satoru asked as he tried to catch your eyes from your book. He was really pining for your attention, and you wouldn’t pass him a second glance.

“Not really.” You replied, not looking up from your book.

“I bet the professor will be twenty minutes late.” Satoru went on anyways, not taking your rejection to heart.

“Hmm. Doubtful. He’s normally prompt.” You say finally looking up at Satoru, which causes him to flash an easy smile. He’s happy to have your attention — now he wants to keep it.

“If he isn’t here within the next twenty minutes, you have to wear my jersey today and every game day for the rest of the season. If he makes it here before twenty minutes is up, I’ll buy you as many books as you can carry.” Satoru proposes as he taps on your book with a cheeky grin.

You think for a moment… all the books you can carry?? “Deal.” You say with a smile, offering your hand to him to shake on it — thinking you just easily won yourself a free shopping spree. Satoru takes your hand, and he gently shakes it before bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

He’s already won.

Satoru knows that you’ll be wearing his jersey today, and you’ll wear his colors for the rest of the season. He’ll make more bets… win you over slowly with false bets. Oh, he’ll buy you all those books you want too just because he can.

He’s already set Geto in motion to go run into your professor with large cups of coffees in his hand. Your professor ended up cancelling class after being 25 minutes late.

When the group of girls sees you with “GOJO” written on the back of your jersey, their faces contort in utter disdain, but Satoru looks at it with a shit-eating grin on his face. He won.

SUGURU

Suguru really didn’t get the thing about giving a girl his jersey on game days. Basketball season is pretty ruthless. While football teams only have 12 games in a season, basketball teams play over 30. That’s 30 days in one season that he’d have to find a girl that he gave enough of a shit about to give his jersey to? No thanks.

Of course, if he had a girlfriend it wouldn’t be too big of a deal, but the whole attitude around giving a girl your jersey was just something Suguru didn’t subscribe to.

Well, he didn’t think he subscribed to it until he saw one of his teammates offering you their jersey.

Maybe on a more psychological level, this was territory marking, and Suguru would be damned if he sat back and let another man mark you as their territory.

Even though he’s not proud of it, Suguru immediately marched straight up to you and his teammate with his away jersey thrown over his shoulder. He placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, and he gave his teammate a piercing look with his violet eyes. His lips curled into an easy smirk.

“Sorry man, she’s already agreed to wear my jersey today, isn’t that right angel?” He asked in such a condescending tone, and his fingertips dig into your skin with just enough pressure to make your face flush.

Luckily for Suguru, you were into it — and not his teammate. “Yeah, sorry. I almost forgot.” You agree, giving his teammate an empathetic smile.

So no, Suguru doesn’t get the idea of giving his jersey to a girl on game days, but he does get the idea of giving you his jersey. He loves how he towers behind you in the halls, seeing the name “GETO” written on your back with his number. He loves remembering the way you easily went along with his plan. You just fit him.

NANAMI

Nanami doesn’t need antics to get you to wear his baseball jersey.

Plenty of girls pine for Kento. Who wouldn’t? He was the leading star of the baseball team… who’s ass just so happened to look so good in those white tight-fitting pants.

Your college certainly played into it, giving Nanami the big screen when he takes off his helmet and shakes out his messy blonde hair that a bit damp from sweat. His cheeks are smeared with his eye black smeared on his cheeks (the charcoal black lines that athletes sometimes have).

They knew what they were doing when the yearbook crew took professional level pictures of Nanami looking absolutely jaw-dropping while delivering the nastiest pitch.

He was like eye candy that enticed a bunch of girls to buy tickets to the baseball games, and dammit, it worked.

Despite his celebrity status at the school, Kento didn’t act above anyone else. He didn’t flaunt money or act posh and sophisticated like a lot of the wannabes did at your university.

He was down to earth, smart, caring, and humorous to the right group of people (the dry humor enjoyers). Kento was the type of man to be able to reject someone without them even feeling rejected, which he did a lot when girls would ask for his jersey.

You often came to baseball games to watch (to watch nanami lets bffr), but you weren’t bold enough to ask Kento for his jersey on game days. You had witness girls before you, pilgriming the way to Nanami before they turn back empty handed. You couldn’t risk the heartache.

It wasn’t until one day after class you and Kento were the only two still packing up after a lecture, he casually strolled to your desk. “Will you be at the game tonight?” He asked with a genuine air of curiosity to him. This wasn’t awkward forced conversation because you two were the only two people in a room together.

You hadn’t even known that Nanami noticed you, much less noticed your attendance at games. You could feel your heart start to thud obscenely loud in your chest as you came to terms that you’re not invisible in Kento’s life.

“Yeah, I think I’ll show up…” You try your hardest to sound casual, but you just sound terribly nervous.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you.” He said politely before he reached into his bag and pulled out his spare jersey. “Hopefully wearing this..?”

Your eyes widen as you realize he was offering his jersey to you. “That- are you sure? Me?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He gives an honest laugh. His multimillion dollar smile makes you swoon, and he hands his jersey out again. “You should put it on now. That’s the tradition, right?”

You slowly slip the jersey on over your long-sleeved white top, and it definitely hangs loosely on you, but with a few tucks and adjustments, it finally sits on your body appropriately.

“It looks good on you. I’ll see you tonight.” Kento smiles before leaving the classroom.

You had never gotten more shocked stares than when girls saw you with “NANAMI” printed across your back.

CHOSO

“Hey Yuji, why does Megumi wear your jersey on game days?” Choso asked his teammate as he sat down on the bench in the locker room.

He had seen quite a few people - guys and girls who weren’t on the basketball team wearing the jerseys of his teammates, but he didn’t understand it. He figured he’d ask the one teammate who he considered to be more of a brother to explain.

“Because I make him.” Yuji laughed as he dried his pink hair off from the shower. It was a pretty brutal practice, even Choso’s raven hair was down, messy from sweat.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would you do that-? I thought you liked him.”

Yuji laughed even harder as Choso clearly didn’t understand the dynamic he had with Megumi. He also clearly didn’t understand the concept behind giving someone his jersey.

“I do like him, so I like seeing him wearing my jersey on game days. I think he looks good in it too, even if he pretends to hate it. I know he likes showing his support.” Yuji explained, but he went on, “People give their jerseys to someone they like. It’s like a courting gift, and it lets everyone know your intentions with that person.”

Choso nodded as he began to understand. He should give his jersey to someone he liked - to someone he wanted to court, and his intentions would be made known.

That’s how shy, timid Choso ended up at your dorm door late one evening. After much encouragement and convincing from Yuji, he finally gave your door a soft knock, and Yuji ran around the corner to hide.

When you opened the door, looking at Choso with those big pretty eyes, he completely clammed up and forgot the mental script he had prepared about how he really liked you, and it’d mean a lot to him if you wore his jersey.

Instead, “I want my intentions known.” He nearly shouted as he gestured his jersey to you.

Yuji facepalmed around the corner.

You blinked a few times, looking down at the jersey then back up to him. He was lucky that you’re very good at filling in the blanks. “You want me to wear your jersey, Cho?” You asked with a small laugh before taking the jersey from his hands.

His cheeks were flushed, and he gave you an awkward smile before nodding his head vigorously. “And uh.. I want to court you.” He finally added all in one breath.

To Choso’s delight, you agreed, and now, he finally understands the real reasoning behind giving his jersey to someone he likes because seeing “KAMO” on your back makes him feel all dizzy with love and adoration.

TOJI

It started off as a small prank amongst girls. A prank that really pissed Toji off. A group of girls decided it would be cute to steal Toji’s spare hockey jersey and wear it without his knowledge.

When Toji saw one of the girls wearing his stolen jersey with his appalling last name printed on the back, he was livid.

Needless to say, he got his jersey back, and the girl couldn’t even look him in the eye after that whole experience.

He hated his jersey. He hated how his last name was on the back, and he hated how anyone else would want to wear it.

He couldn’t just get rid of his spare jersey. Then, he’d owe the school even more than what he already owes them. He couldn’t trust to keep it in his dorm because he didn’t put it past those bitches to try to sneak into his dorm to get their filthy hands on it. That was when he had a genius idea.

“Wear my jersey.” His gruff voice demanded as he dropped the fabric on the table in front of you, his too responsible friend.

“No, it probably stinks.” You pushed the jersey aside, trying to focus on the homework in front of you.

“Nah. It smells like the last bitch who stole it.” He remarked as he plopped down in a chair in front of your desk.

“Even worse.” You respond back unamused, still not giving Toji the time of day.

“Do you remember who hunted down the fuck who stole your headphones?”

You sighed, finally looking up at Toji to show that you were paying attention. “Why do you think me wearing your jersey will deter them?”

“Maybe they’ll think you’re my girl and piss off for a while. I don’t know, but if I see another preppy bitch wearing it without my knowledge, I’m going to burn it.” Toji’s voice sounded stressed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And you don’t mind them thinking that?” You inquire, raising your eyebrow.

“Doll, you know I’ve spent the last three years trying to get you to hop on my-“

“Eughhh, give it.” You interrupt Toji before he can go into any further detail, snatching his jersey up and putting it on over your clothes. “There. Happy?”

Toji didn’t expect to have such a reaction to seeing you in his jersey. He knew he was serious about liking you, no matter how much you liked to believe that he didn’t actually like you, but seeing you in his jersey — the way it swallowed you whole. He figured he’d still hate seeing his last name on you, but there was something satiating those deep primal urges when he caught a glimpse of “ZENIN” across your back.

SUKUNA

Sukuna is much comparable to a dragon. He sees something pretty and shiny (you): he wants it all for himself. He wants to hoard treasure (you) to keep, and he definitely does not like the idea of anyone else looking or touching his treasure.

So, how does he keep wandering eyes off his treasure? He cloaks her in his favor, making her brandish his last name on her back along with his number. Yes, Sukuna demanded for you to wear his football jersey.

There was just enough satisfaction of seeing you walk around campus with “SUKUNA” written on your back that kept him from trying to hoard you in his room.

Oh, he’s also like a dragon in the sense that he’s absolutely devastating out on the field.

[mogai-headcanons]

requests are open (finally)!

i'm sure you all noticed that this blog went on an impromptu hiatus for about six months, but i'm back in the swing of things now! i've decided that, in order to keep myself motivated, i'm going to first open up requests on a whitelist (they'll be open to all media later!)

this is gonna be quite a large list lol (since i'm listing things i'm currently very interested in, things i was interested in during my hiatus but would like to see folks' headcanons of still, and things i'm not super into but that scratch the brain itch when i do requests for them)!

whitelist under the cut — requests not from these media will most likely be deleted!

generally, anything that you haven't seen me do more than 1-2 requests for will also be fun for me! i enjoy learning about media i haven't really interacted with before.

yaelokre/meadowlark

cookie run

my little pony

portal series/fan-made spinoffs

homestuck/related media

rusty lake

rick and morty

steven universe

bluey

pokemon

undertale/deltarune

gravity falls

the owl house

the amazing world of gumball

phineas and ferb/related media

welcome home

infinity train

star vs. the forces of evil

ducktales 2017

five nights at freddy’s (all games)

too many indie games to list, so if i don't mention it after this, feel free to ask!

bugsnax

any of arcadekitten's games

cult of the lamb

in stars and time

fields of mistria

wandersong

american arcadia

kinitopet

another crab's treasure

spiritfarer

indigo park

that’s not my neighbor

sally face

smile for me

[majinbangus]

will johnny ever punish simon(and how) for playing too rough with you and accidentally hurt you (yk some dog just like that) or doesnt listen to reader or makes reader upset????

follow up question if simon and reader do something and it upset him how will he handle it???

im in LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEE with ur guard dog simon and owner johnny reader

i hope you have a good day and win the lottery ❤️

》 18+ i'm glad you're liking my guard dog!ghost series! sorry my answer got a little long but a short way of explaining Ghost's dynamic with reader when it comes to punishments is that he's technically submitting, but he's also not really submissive ygm? he'll go through his punishments, but energy is very much this post. that's what im tryna go for at least -> more here

Accidentally hurting you, Soap can forgive. Ghost is always extremely careful not to seriously hurt you. Yes, he'll be rough and leave you sore or with bruises sometimes, but he still behaves much like the scrupulous guard dog he is, listening to your every command and taking care to protect you from real harm.

As Soap likes too remind you, Ghost is very well trained already, and it's up to you to show him that you can take care of him just as Ghost takes care of you. In fact, Soap is a little harder on you if he catches you slacking, reminding you that a dog like Ghost deserves a responsible owner willing to take care of such a diligent dog.

However, in the rare event that Ghost doesn't do his duty as your guard dog and leaves your side, Soap will get upset, but he would actually leave the punishment up to you (since you're technically Ghost's primary owner. Soap is there to teach you how to be a good owner) and act as the enforcer for whatever punishment you see fit.

So if you wanna make Ghost sleep in a dog crate for a week, Soap will buy the crate and Ghost isn't allowed on the bed. If you want to keep Ghost on a leash until you regain trust in him, Soap is gonna do some leash training with Ghost.

For more sexual punishments, Ghost will be kept in a cock cage for a while so the most he can do is mindlessly rut against you, and Soap will be the one to hold the key to his cage. He'll only unlock Ghost if you say so, but he'll also encourage you to keep Ghost locked because he's a shit he wants you to be a firm dog owner and not give in to Ghost's dog brown eyes that you've developed a soft spot for. When that happens, Ghost might bare his teeth at Soap because he knows what he's doing, but won't do much more because he knows Soap would suggest a cock gag next, that fucker-

(also if you wanna spank Ghost, Soap is will enforce that too)

But these punishments are rare and far in between. Ghost is very disciplined, so they don't happen often, but when they do, Ghost will go through them like a good boy, knowing that he messed up. He'll regain your trust and be an even better dog for you.

Now if you and Simon do something that upset Soap, (like for example, exploring a dangerous alley willingly, even though Ghost told you not to go in, but went with you anyway because you told him the 'quiet' and 'heel' command) you'll get the brunt of the punishment since 'dog behavior is a reflection of your guidance, sweets.'

Ghost won't get a harsh punishment, but he'll have to stay leashed to his crate, watching Soap give you your punishment which could range from all sorts of things, but mostly, it'll be Soap treating you like a dog- a puppy- to show you how to be a good owner.

He'll make you wear a tail plug and have you crawl on all fours. Tell you commands like 'sit pretty' or 'bow' or 'come'. You're not allowed to talk, only bark, and If you can't follow his commands, the longer the punishment will go and the more intense it'll become. Hell, if he's feeling generous, he'll unleash Ghost and make him show you how to be a good dog, letting Ghost correct your behavior. They may even tag team you, and you'll be aching for days, but the lesson will definitely stick.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 4

Part 1 Part 3

We should go to the store,” Steve says. 

He says it mostly to get Munson’s blood up. The silence is digging into his head, making every breath the other takes sound like the ragged wail of that fucking monster.

The longer he stays there, crouched in the trees, the harder it is to tell how much of the ache in his stomach is fear, and how much is hunger. They should find food, water, shelter, a way out of this bullshit.

Munson scoffs. “Looks like you’re getting your way, huh King Steve?”

Steve stands, legs unsteady. His feet are cold and bare in the dirt, gone numb around the ants under his skin. His hand aches from clutching the other boys. He drops it, shaking out the clenched nerves. “Yeah,” he says, channeling all the bitchiness Carol had hammered into his head over pseudo girls nights, “I summoned that thing into my bedroom just because I really wanted to go on a shopping date with you Munson.”

He starts through the woods in the general direction of the store, smiling at the sound of Munson sputtering incoherently behind him before the other boys jogs to catch back up.

“Careful there, big boy.” Muson leans into his space, smile saccharine around all its cracks. “I might just go and catch feelings.”

Steve rolls his eyes, shoving the other boy a few steps away. He can’t stop looking around for a threat, or some tear in the air that’ll lead them back home. He wants to be warm.

The rest of the trip to Melvald’s is quiet, but every time Steve glances his way, Eddie’s biting his lip against the words practically bursting from him.

He’s always been a talker. In the hallways, on cafeteria tables, even beneath the bleachers when he’s trying to keep a low profile. His voice carries. It’s almost painful to watch him try and suppress it. 

No wonder teachers are always cursing his name.

Prying the door open is louder than Steve wants—metal creaking on hinges aged decades in a matter of hours. It echoes off the vacant shops loud enough that both boys stop, staring into each other’s panicked eyes as they wait for a sign that something is coming. The silence echoes around them, bouncing off the storefronts like a physical force.

Nothing stirs.

Steve pries the door open a tiny bit more, gesturing Munson inside. He does a dorky little curtsy on the way, pulling the gaping knees of his jeans like they’re the hems of a skirt. Steve rolls his eyes, but follows him in.

The door resists closing, but Steve pulls it shut, around the sounds of its own groans. The illusion of safety and all that. Munson must feel the same because he immediately starts chattering.

“Is this how you feel, all the time, Harrington?” he asks, bounding over to the cereal aisle and pulling a luridly orange box down from the shelf. He pries the box open, pulling at the seams of the bag like an impatient child on Christmas morning. “No budget, no coupons, just—shit.”

He drops the box around his startled expletive before immediately ripping into a new one.

“What?” Steve asks, but he’s already following in Munson’s wake and reaching down for the abandoned box. Before he even pulls the plastic bag out, he can smell the stench of food gone off. He pulls it out anyway.

Just like the door, and the street, and the water in his tap—the cereal in the bag has seemingly aged years in a matter of hours. Each wheaty bite has shriveled into itself, turning an off-putting grey and smelling like a stack of cardboard left to mold in the rain.

Munson’s still picking up and discarding boxes, movements growing more frantic with each new discovery.

In a state beyond horror, Steve wanders over to the water aisle. There’s no light on in the store, but the bottles almost seem to glow—an unholy green, murky and brackish in their pristine bottles, still lined up like it was opening day. It looks like some sort of gone-wrong science experiment from those science fiction movies Carol pretends she doesn’t like to watch. They look just like the sludge in his pipes back home.

Munson is cursing up a storm as he rounds the aisle, but he goes quiet when he sees Steve. He’s not sure what he looks like, but Munson’s hand reaches out and lands on his shoulder. Steve can barely feel its warm squeeze—can’t bear to tear his eyes away from those bottles.

It’s becoming a pattern, the way they’re always stuck together in horrified silence. It’s also becoming a pattern that one of them breaks said silence with some convoluted bullshit.

“Where’s your shoes,  man?” Munson asks, like he’s only just noticed the flesh beyond the caked-on mud.

Steve sighs, shrugging off the other boy’s hand. His toes are numbed past the point of pain as he limps to the first-aid aisle, Munson trailing in his wake.

He ends up on the ground, clutching a roll of bandages, staring down at the bottoms of his feet. The bandages are soft and spongy. Clean. But he can’t even see the abrasions on the bottoms of his feet past the dirt and mud. There’s no water. There’s nothing. So, he just sits there, feeling nothing.

He’s still on the ground. Time must be passing but he doesn’t feel it, can’t see it in the dank light of the store.

He blinks and Munson’s sitting in front of him, Steve’s right foot in his lap. There’s a crumpled pile of used wet wipes beside the other boy’s hip, the brown and red from his own feet smudged across their normally pristine white surfaces.

The package crinkles as Munson pulls the plastic lid open to tear off a fresh wipe. He’s gentle enough that it tickles slightly between the toes and on the arch of his foot as Munson scrubs the last of the dirt away.

Steve clears his throat.

Munson snaps his gaze up, fingers twitching flightily on his foot, but doesn’t stop his ministrations. “You back with me?”

Steve nods. He wants to ask where he was before but can’t force the words past his constricting throat. He feels alarmingly close to tears.

He feels like he’s been sucked out of his body and into a very small tube, compressed until his breaths come in short, punched-out bursts that never fully enter his lungs.

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” Munson says, voice even. He’s looking down at Steve’s foot again, stroking it almost soothingly with the dirtied towelette. “I need you to breath with me, okay?”

Munson’s breathing gets loud and purposeful—long breaths in through his nose, longer breaths out through his mouth. Steve stares, enraptured, and gasps along.

Time passes. Steve’s shoulders slump. His fingers are tingling like they do sometimes at the end of a long basketball game. Sweat dripping down his face, body buzzing with excited adrenaline, fingers buzzing with the need for the ball.

The squeeze of Munson’s hand around his ankle catapults him out of the tube and back into Melvald’s.

Embarrassment crashes into Steve. He crawls to his feet, using the shelving behind him to steady himself. He stands, with creaking knees and hobbles stiff-legged out of the aisle, tossing “I’m going to to find some shoes,” over his shoulder.

“Okay,” Munson replies, so quietly Steve can barely hear it. 

There’s a thank you stuffed deep in Steve’s throat, trying to crawl its way past his mortification. There’s gauze wrapped around the soles of his feet, containing the damage. He’s not sure when Munson even did it.

There’s not a single fucking shoe in any of the aisles–not even a fucking pair of slippers. He’s three seconds away from duct taping the bottom of his feet and calling it good when there’s a tap on his shoulder. He whirls, slipping as his gauze, covered feet try to keep traction. Munson steadies him with a hand to his elbow.

There’s a pair of ratty sneakers clutched in his other hand, and he’s smiling dimples popping. 

“Where’d you get those?” 

Munson beams, skipping in place like a kid playing hopscotch. “Found them in the breakroom,” he says. “Do you think your highness can lower himself to wear a poor, lowly worker man’s shoes?”

His eyes are fucking twinkling. Steve’s heart fucking twitches. This whole thing is too fucking derranged for him to handle.

“What size?”

Munson cackles tossing the shoes into Steve’s chest. 

Steve bends down, pushing his feet into the shoes sockless, hoping the gauze will do enough to keep blisters at bay. They’re a little loose, so Steve ties the crumbling shoelaces tight, hoping against Munson’s fucking dimples that they don’t break. He double knots them. They hold.

“Thanks,” he says, still looking down at the ratty things. 

“Gotta clothe our knights properly for battle!” Munson says. Steve looks up just in time to see that same goofy curtsey.

“I thought I was the King?” he asks. “Have I been demoted?”

Munson laughs again, bringing a curl to his face, as if to hide his grin. “I don’t see any of your subjects around,” he says. It should be mocking, but the elbow he drives into Steve’s side is good-natured. Playful. “Besides, knights are way cooler.”

Steve sighs, can’t believe he’s devolved to playing along with this level of nerdom. “Where’s my sword then, huh Munson?”

Munson sweeps his arms wide encompassing the entirety of Melvald’s in his gesture. “You’re down on your luck, Sir Harrington. You’ve lost your noble steed and your enchanted sword to a suductress from a rival kingdom. Now you’re on a perilous quest to reclaim your property, and regain your rightful place by the King’s side!”

“And where are you in this whole mess?” Steve asks, already kicking himself for playing along.

“Well, I, Sir Steve, as the King’s devoted jester, am on this quest with you to save you from a fate worse than death.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve asks, inching closer to Munson, unsure of why. “What’s that?”

“Boredom, of course!”

Munson’s hair is a mess. It’s more fly-away than contained. His skin looks a little oily around his forehead, and he looks absolutely ridiculous with Steve’s clothes on. But his eyes are shining, and his smile is beaming, and Steve wonders how someone can be that bright in the literal bowels of hell. 

“Shove off, Munson,” Steve laughs, shoving his shoulder lightly as he walks past.

Munson skips up to keep in pace. “Now, what, my liege?”

“So what, I’m the King again?”

Munson puts a hand over his heart, gasping dramatically. “You’ll always be a King to me.”

Steve feels warmth in his cheeks, pushes it down, doesn’t think about it. What now, he says. What now? 

“Now,” he says, thinking aloud as he eyes the aisles around them. “We collect anything useful around here and go.”

“But–”

“We’re not going to last much longer without water, man.” he replies.

Munson sighs. “The quarry?” he asks, sounding like he’d rather say anything else.

“The quarry,” Steve agrees, feeling just the same. 

Part 5

[szynkaaa]

03. In Which a Stinky Monkey Needs a Bath

Previous Chapter ✦ Next Chapter ✦ Read it on AO3

... And one time, while traveling through the New West, you were not in the greatest mood. 

You were walking couple of paces ahead of me, gripping your staff tightly, and I was trying my best to keep up with you. It wasn’t easy, with the snow reaching my knees. Least with you wading through it at the front, all I had to do was walking into the trail you left behind. 

Normally, you’d walk next to me. It’s mostly to make sure that nothing was attacking me from behind when you were walking too far ahead, but then at some point I think you started to enjoy my company. It was also easier for you to shove me aside into safety in case we got ambushed. Better have bruises from the impact than a massive gnarly gash across the back.  

Another tell-sign that you were miffed: You walked with you shoulder all tensed up, and your tail was poised up higher than usual moving slowly left and right.  

If I had to take a wild guess, I’d say it might have something to do with the really weird looking monkey (that looked like it hasn’t bathed in decades and could use a full bottle of body lotion), wearing read loose pants and a mask as a necklace around his neck. We first spotted him sitting on a roof top of an abandoned building surrounded by frozen corpses.  

He was eating a fruit before he heard us coming. It didn’t seem like that monkey appreciated us interrupting his meal time – he looked fairly annoyed. His black soulless eyes swept over me, looking more and more annoyed, but then the mood instantly shifted when his eyes landed on you. Black orbs widened up in surprise, something akin to fear flashed across his face and finally settled what seems to be smugness? The monkey let out a hiss before casually dropping his fruit from the roof down onto one of the frozen corpses and hey what do you know, one of my worst nightmares came true: it came alive.  

Loud cracking sound echoed through the howling wind, the frozen corpse moving its limbs that have not been used in a long time, and grabbed for the weapon close to it, before coming swinging at us with a loud roar.  

Thankfully, you already dashed ahead to beat the living (or un-living?) crap out of the frozen corpse before it could even hit any of us.  

All I could think in that moment while watching the other monkey running away on his four was ‘Damn. There are more frozen corpses ahead of us and I haven’t had any coffee for a long time to deal with this crap’ and ‘fuck me sideways, this is like every horror scenario coming true and I did not fucking sign up for this’, and ‘dear god please just let this day end a warm hot spring would be really nice right now’.  

And I was right. I warm hot spring would be really fucking nice right now because someone had to chase after the crusty looking monkey – while beating up all the frozen corpses on the chase. Very nice of you to make sure I didn’t have to deal with them, it still would have been nice if you could have waited for me, was what I was thinking while running through the snow and against the wind to catch up with you.  

By the time I caught up with you, I broke up in sweat, and was panting slightly. I don’t really consider myself badly out of shape – I think I’m pretty fit for my age. But running through knee high snow, with the wind blowing against you and also wearing thick winter clothes that I bartered from a village we passed by, it made the jog up a bit more challenging than usual.  

And now I’m sweating and really hoping that the sweat won’t cool off too fast on my body and hopefully I won’t catch a cold in this miserable weather-  

The wind blew into my direction, carrying a hefty stank with it; rotten egg sewers system stank mixed with a lactose intolerant person who forgot to take their lactose pills and decided to go for that boba tea anyway because you only live once (could not be me).  

I immediately clamped my gloved hand over the lower half of my face, squinting through the howling wind to see where the fuck that smell came from.  

Pop quiz time!  

Question 1: Where did the stank come from 

Your monkey (not the crusty looking one) somehow managed to find a hot spring. The stronger the sulfur rotten egg smell, the better the mineral in the water is for your skin. 

One of the frozen corpses he beat up turned out to be a hollow shell, and upon breaking it releases a horrible gas that smells like rotten eggs.  

The very crusty looking monkey that looks like he should be buried 20 feet deep you are fighting right now keeps flashing you his behind and farting on your monkey. 

Question 2: What do you do in this situation.  

Take cover, stay out of this fight, do not get involved.  

One up the crust monkey. His farts are smelly? Well guess what maybe the Destined One’s even worse with his vegetarian diet. 

Throw a well-aimed snowball to help out your comrade. 

Question 3: When was the last time you told your loved ones ‘I love you’ before you got spirited away? 

Very recently, you always say ‘I love you’ to them at the end of a conversation like it’s the last one. Life is short and you never know what will happen. 

You don’t remember. You barely talk to your ‘loved’ ones anymore, life keeping you busy. Your last conversations were shallow catch up, and you realize that you have slowly pushed all the people in your life away and now you regret not playing a more active part in their lives anymore. 

This is all just a bad dream. Soon you will wake up, surrounded by your loved ones and that is when you tell them that you love them and you are glad to be able to see their faces again.  

And BOY did I wish the answer to question three was c, and I bet you, the Destined One, wished the same thing because you looked like you were fighting for your life (and fresh oxygen) against the monkey.  

He truly had the audacity to be flashing his thankfully covered butt at you several times and let out stinky farts, and I was wondering why the hell were you not dodging it. Or at least it looked like you were trying to, but failing miserably.  

Part of me had to respect the crusty monkey for being able to let out farts on command.  

If it wasn’t for the frequent fart attacks, I’d say you were holding up pretty well in the fight. But I can also see that with each fart-attack, you were getting more and more agitated, your attacks and moves becoming more frantic an un-coordinated. Who could blame you, if it was me, I’d also getting pissed and just want to whack everything wildly around me.  

I was lucky that the crusty monkey has not decided to attack me, and decided mayhap I should help you out a bit lest you die of being stank up, and I don’t think anyone would want that written on their grave.  

The Destined One, died by fart. You were loved and you will be missed.  

Spotting a small rock at my feet, I crouched down and started to roll it around in the snow, until it was fully covered and then getting bigger and bigger. Then I picked up the freshly made snowball, threw it in the air and caught it with my hand to test the weight. Not too light, but also not too heavy. Good enough to give someone a good smack.  

I looked back up again to see how you were faring in the battle – crusty monkey stuck his sword to the ground and was using it as a pole to swing around in a circle, kicking you back in the process. You tumbled back a few times, fell into the snow. 

As you got up to shake off the snow, and the crusty monkey laughing at you, I took this chance to aim and throw the snowball as hard as I can at the farting monkey. The snowball breezed through the air, hitting the crusty monkey square on the side of his face as he was busy laughing at you. It didn’t really do any damage enough, but it was enough to distract him. He turned his head into the direction of where the snowball came from, while his hand moving to grip his sword. That was enough time for you to adjust your grip on your staff and charge at him with a battle yell. One jump, you moved your free hand to grip your stuff, lift it up above your head and then went to smack the other monkey.  

He stumbled back couple of paces, before growling at you, and then decided that this was a fight he cannot win and disappeared in a wind of black dust.  

Coward.  

I came out of my hiding place, standing next to you, watching after the black dust wind flying off into the distance. 

And then another waft of wind blew into my direction. 

“Oh God, you need a bath, Kiwi.”, I groaned out, covering my nose and again and waving my free hand in front of my face in hopes to make the bad smell disappear.  

And I suppose you did not appreciate that comment.  

So not were you only pissed because of getting constantly farted, your travel companion – me – made a not-so-nice-remark about your current predicament, after you made sure you killed all the frozen corpses and fought the crusty monkey off.  

Seeing you walking in front of me with your tail showing that you were angry... I really was a shitty companion sometimes, was I?  

Just I was about to open my mouth to apologize to you, you suddenly stopped walking and I almost walked into you. Puzzled, I wanted to ask what happened and if there was something dangerous in front of us, but then I saw you turning your head up, your nose started sniffling something in the air. I copied you, but I couldn’t really smell anything out of the ordinary beside the cold winter air.  

You followed your nose, and seeing as I have nowhere better to go, I followed wherever your nose was taking you. It soon led us to an abandoned run-down shack. Not the first time we have come across during our travel, and we have used countless of those as a temporary shelter. The closer we got to the shelter, the more I can smell it in the air: rotten egg. 

Please don’t tell me this is the shelter of the crusty monkey and you are here for a round two-  

Instead of going inside the shelter, you walked around it. You briefly paused, and turned around to see if I was still following you. And then you nodded your head forward, in a follow-me gesture. So that probably means you were not going into another stinky fight.  

Curious now, I followed you. The rotten egg smell hung stronger in the air, followed by some steam, and I felt how the temperature in the air was getting warmer too, until you I saw what it was that caught your nose. 

A hot spring.  

I couldn’t believe our luck, this god-forsaken cold place really had a hot spring! Steam was rising from the water, fogging up the area. The giant rock pieces places around the spring indicates that the placement was deliberate – perhaps someone used to live here and made good use of the spring?  

“Alright game plan,” I announced, clapping my hands together and then pointed at you “You. Strip off your clothes-” your eyebrows raised up high “and just leave them in the corner over there. I’ll wash them for you while you’re washing up yourself in the hot spring.” My type A personality is coming out. Having something that vaguely resembles a plan made me feel good, it gave me the illusion that I was in control in a situation outside my control. 

As I was giving you instructions, I fumbled in my bag for the bar of soap I purchased in our last village and threw it at you, which you caught with just one hand. You moved it up to your nose to smell it.  

“And after you’re done, it’s my turn to wash up. See if you can find anything to eat while I’m cleaning myself up. Don’t give me that look, he farted on your clothes. You can’t wash yourself up and then put the smelly clothes back on! We can set up a fire and let them dry overnight.”  

I looked at you expectantly with my hands on my hips. You let out a sigh, realizing that this is not a fight you want to fight and I was right (for once), so you started to unstrap the leg and arm and shoulder armor pieces off first.  

I nodded, a triumphant grin on my face. “Alright, I’ll see if there is anything inside this shelter and then come back for your dirty clothes.” 

After accidentally walking on you in your birth suit for the fourth time, I have gotten used to seeing you butt-naked. I didn’t have much problem with nudity in general. When you live in a city with few nudist beaches, and pedal past by it on a bike in summer, you get used to see all kinds of different body shapes and forms and at some point, they all just blur together. Plus... not that I will ever admit it to your face, but you were kind of nice to look at? 

I also don’t think that you had a big problem with me seeing you naked. If anything, I think after the third time I walked in on you, a wide smug grin spread across the face, your eyes twinkling. I would even say, you enjoyed that I was admiring the view. I still decided to give you the courtesy of some privacy while you were taking off your clothes for your well-deserved bath.  

The funny thing though was that you get flustered seeing me naked. That one time, I wasn’t even fully naked, I was walking around topless with a bra on, trying to look for an ointment Xu Dog oh-so-nicely made for me to put it on my wounds. When you looked up to see what I was doing, and I turned around to ask if you had seen it somewhere, your eyes where wide open and your face red, staring at the amount of skin I was showing. When I was about to ask you if you have seen the ointment somewhere, you got up without a word and left the cave. Your ears were also burning red, and for the rest of the day you couldn’t look me in the eyes.  

And the next time, because the freaking desert was freaking hot and at that point I didn’t care if I’ll get badly sunburnt, I was about to take off my hanfu overcoat. You turned around to see what the rustling was about, and as you saw me slipping my arm off the sleeves, ready to walk around in my bra. My actions made you stop in your track, and your face started to burn up again. You grabbed the collars of my hanfu, pushed my arm back into the sleeves and then made sure that my hanfu coat was neatly tucked and properly worn.  

Since then, I have been more conscious about my nudity around you. It never felt like you were shaming me for it though. If anything, I think you were just flustered? Your tail would be hanging low but waggling back and forth – a sign that you were happy or excited. Or maybe both. 

Your tail told a different story than your actions.  

I shed off my own heavy coat and took off my gloves to make it easier to search for some things in my bag. There was one last mandarin fruit sitting at the bottom of my bag – frozen by now due to the freezing temperature, but if I let it sit close to the hot spring, maybe the steam will thaw it up again. 

I peeked outside and saw the pile of clothes neatly folded up in the spot I pointed at, your armor pieces also neatly laid out next to them. You were already sitting in the hot spring, arms spread out and along with your head, resting on a rock. The tension in your shoulders were gone, finally relaxed after wandering for the whole day and fighting countless of enemies. You were sitting with your back towards me. 

The back of your head really looked like a kiwi fruit. 

Your ears perked up when I started to move towards you, but you didn’t move your head to look at me.  

Placing the mandarin on the ground, I then took off my boots, followed by the socks. The socks I stuffed into my boots, and then I proceeded to roll up my pants until they reached mid-thigh. You finally turned your head around to see what I was doing, and then whipped around to stare at my oh-so-naked legs with wide-saucer eyes, your face flushing red again. Could be the steam, could be my legs, who knows. 

And it’s not like my legs were in their best shape. The skin around it looked like cracked desert surface, desperately in need of a good moisturizer. Shaving my legs was also a luxury I could not afford here – not that it should matter to you anyway. You are fully covered in fur, so that makes you to be the last person on earth allowed to judge the hairy state of my legs.  

Like on clockwork, I noticed the water surface beginning to move faster – probably caused by your tail underwater waggling.  

“Scooch over.” I said, this time not caring that you were flustered from seeing some skin, and then moved to sit on the rock close to where you were, carefully dipping one toe in to test the temperature.  

Heaven, it was heaven. 

I then sunk my whole leg into the water, soon followed by my second leg, just sitting at the edge enjoying the heat. I cannot wait for you to be done with your bath so I could clean myself too.  

You’ve turned your head away to look the over way, the tips of your ear bright red, but your body remained close to where I was sitting. 

It was kind of endearing how the sight of my skin made you flustered liked this. 

Remembering I had a mandarin to thaw and snack on, I reached for it on the ground and then placed it on top of your head.  

“There, now you look like a capybara taking a bath in a hot spring.” I said, grinning.  

Your hand grabbed for the mandarin I placed on the top of your head, and you turned around to look at my quizzically.  

I suppose you wouldn’t know what a capybara is, since they originally come from South America. I tried my best to explain to you what a capybara looks like, using my hands gesturing to the shape of the animal. 

To this date, you still didn’t know what a capybara looks like (but you appreciated me trying to explain it to you).  

“Can you put the mandarin in the hot spring for a few seconds so it thaws?” I asked, and you nodded, doing as I asked you to.  

After a minute or so, the mandarin was warm, and you poked a hole with your long thumb nail at the top of the fruit, and then started peeling it. You started to peel one side from the top to the bottom, then moved to the next section, until you were left with a flower shaped mandarin peel. Plucking it off and putting it aside, you then split the fruit in half, reaching it towards me. 

I flashed you a thankful smile, and just as I was about to grab for it, you quickly moved your hand back, enough that I couldn’t reach for the piece anymore. My hand, mid frozen at the spot where my half of the fruit was before. You were looking at my stony faced, but your brown eyes were glittering with mischief.  

Look who decided to be a piece of shit now. 

Pursing my lips and looking at you, I slowly reached out my hand again for the fruit, not breaking eye contact.  

I thought I was fast by swiping down to grab it, but you anticipated it and moved your hand even further back again. This time, your face broke into a grin, mirth written all over it.  

I wanted to be annoyed at you, but your smile was infectious and I felt my own lips turning up. Fine, this is how you want to play it huh? I leaned forward, determined to get my well-deserved dose of vitamin C, and you moved your arm further back, out of my reach.  

I rested my hand on one of the rocks, stretching out my own arm. Unluckily, the rock my hand was one came loose and slipped under me, and I lost my balance. I was not able to find ahold of something else to grab on, and felt how my entire body was falling forward.  

At the same time, the grin dropped from your face and you started to panic too. You were also moving, your arms now reaching out to catch me, but it was too late: In a desperate attempt to grab onto something, anything, my two arms wrapped around your neck and your arms around my torso.  

And then I dragged us both underwater. 

Let it be known to the entire New West that the last thing I shouted before going underwater was “My mandarin!” 

The smell of sulfur was the last thing I smelt before water filled up my nose, the burning sensation sitting up high. A pair of strong arms that were already wrapped around my torso then pulled me up, I gasped for air. My hair was clinging to my face now, my clothes soaked. Using my wet sleeves to wipe my eyes, I then opened them, only to be staring at your worried gaze, still holding me around my torso. 

I coughed again, rasped my throat. “I’m- I’m okay.”  

Your shoulders sacked in relief, your tail swinging left and right, splashing the water around it.  

You... were always looking out for me, and making sure that I was okay. Remembering how earlier today I hurt your feelings with that bath comment, I realized that now might be the best time to apologize.  

“I’m sorry what I said about you needing a bath.” I started, and your tail stopped moving, you looked at me intensely. “It was a shitty thing of me to say after you fought against him. If it wasn’t for you, I would not be standing here.”  

Your eyebrows softened, and you moved your right hand up to my shoulder, squeezing it three times reassuringly - ‘we are good, everything is ok’. 

A heavy weight fell off my shoulders and I smiled. Running a hand through my wet hair, I spotted the soap bar sitting on a rock. 

“Well, since I’m inside the hot spring, might as well take a bath now.” I reached my hand into the water to untie my belt, which got me the desired reaction out of you – a little payback was in order. 

You let go of me, as if I was burning your hands, and then turned around and waded as fast as you could towards the edge, and pulled yourself up, stalking away.  

I watched your retreating form, your tails waggling left and right. I didn’t want you to have the last ‘word’ though, so I bit my cheeks before shouting after your retreating form: “You have a really nice ass!” 

You slammed the door to the run-down shelter shut and I threw my head back, laughing.  

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

My apartment came with a separate shower and a bathtub. I never used the bathtub for its intended use (it was an over glorified laundry basket for the longest time), until now. Now I take weekly baths in it, sometimes also three times a week.  

You loved taking baths together. You would claim that a king needs a pair of hands to help him clean the fur – and plenty other monkeys would kill to be in that position. The pout on your lips never stopped not being cute whenever I would shoot back with a ‘well, then why don’t you get the other monkeys to help you wash up then’. But you also knew that I would always give in in the end and help you wash up and then dry and comb your fur. In return, you did the same thing for me: scrubbing the spots in the back that were hard for me to reach, washing my hair, and then make me sit between your legs while you combed through them.  

Now I take my baths alone.  

[beneathsilverstars]

been doing research on writing plural systems for sif+loop in mundane modern aus, and i think i've got a solid idea of what i want to do! specifics may vary by au but i wanted a base set of headcanons to vary from, so sif+loop being a system can be a background fact of my au musings instead of something i have to reinvent every time.

(i'm a singlet so if any systems have concrit or thoughts they want to share i'd be happy to hear it! i'm not like planning a fic or anything currently, but it's still nice to not be working off of misconceptions for my silly little posts.)

siffrin took over as the main host in their late teens and doesn't remember anything from before that. in their early-mid 20s their work/housing situation was horrible and when they couldn't take another day like that, siffrin split into loop (who kept the mid 20s memories, with a new personality) and siffrin take two (who remembers the 17-20 era a bit better, but then there's a big gap). between the two of them they were able to cope better and hold a not-as-awful job and get a shitty apartment all to themselves!

siffrin fronts more often on average, because they're better at quietly accomplishing day-to-day tasks. but if he gets too overwhelmed or anxious (think their mini loop-backs in canon) then loop takes over, bc loop dgaf about some of the things siffrin worries about, and doesn't shut down as easily. but since they don't bottle up their feelings as severely, they're more likely to react outwardly and make rash choices like quitting their job, being rude, splurging on little treats, etc. so that's why siffrin is the default fronter for things like work and chores, when he's feeling up to it.

loop is fairly aware of what's going on while siffrin is fronting - sometimes they choose to tune more of it out, but they can catch most of it if they want to, and sometimes siffrin will talk to them or nudge them to pay attention. since they know at least the basics of what siffrin was up to, they can usually step in pretty smoothly when they need to take over! and it's very easy for them to take over, with or without siffrin's say-so, though they try to ask if it's not an emergency (and if it is an emergency, siffrin is likely trying to back away from the front anyway).

when loop is fronting, though, siffrin is entirely away, dreaming in the void. loop can nudge them for a vague opinion or relevant memory, but they can't hold a full conversation and they're not aware of what loop's doing. when loop puts them in the front again they're usually disoriented and need a moment for loop to tell them what's been happening. and again, loop is the one deciding to switch; sometimes siffrin might resist getting pulled back if they're still feeling bad, or get antsy and start reaching out if they've been asleep a while or are having bad dreams, but they're not gonna react to environmental situations since they're not aware of them.

mal is in there too but doesn't front. its role is to be socially hyper-vigilant, pointing out when other people might be upset at them so the alter who's fronting knows to fix it or avoid the person. it's been around longer than siffrin, and was helpful way back then, but now that siffrin and loop have worked out an effective balance and are fairly safe, mal's behavior is somewhat maladaptive (ha!). it's not super directly aware of the outside world like loop is, not anymore at least, but it does get secondhand memories from both siffrin and loop. it actually sometimes remembers facts and details that sif and loop both quickly forgot, because maybe those details will end up relevant to spotting and avoiding future problems - but since it got the memories secondhand and filtered them through a particularly paranoid worldview, it's likely to misremember subjective interpretations as literal truth, so you gotta take its claims with a grain of salt.

it mostly hangs out in the void imagining fractals and whatnot these days, keeping an eye on siffrin while they sleep. it occasionally perks up and chimes in with its pessimistic point of view when siffrin is really upset - it can communicate better with sleeping siffrin than loop can. loop is not on speaking terms with it because they're mad that it goes behind loop's back and makes siffrin more upset right when loop is trying to shield him from the upsetting situation. but siffrin doesn't mind it bc it's just trying to help in its own way, and sometimes it is helpful to face their fears in plain words instead of avoiding them. and siffrin will sometimes ask it for help with like, puzzles, because it's good at pattern recognition.

there's also a no-longer-quite-dormant alter that presumably fronted for much of the body's childhood. they don't hang out in siffrin and mal's void, and they don't talk to anyone else within the system. but now that the system is more safe and stable, every once in a while something will catch their attention and they'll gently push to the front and start talking. as soon as their train of thought is interrupted they're gone again, and the other alters don't even remember that they got usurped for a moment, a la siffrin's bits of telling childhood anecdotes in canon. loop and siffrin have surmised that they exist, and call them the lost one.

mal has also implied that there's at least one more dormant alter, but it's from before siffrin-and-loop's time and possibly mal's as well.

if something happens that's so distressing that siffrin retreats into headspace and loop won't take over either, the body goes into dissociated autopilot. it will follow basic one-step instructions (such as "follow me" or "eat this"), speak in a couple simple scripts (such as answering "how are you" with "i'm fine"), and complete rote tasks such as taking a familiar route home from work or going to bed. loop doesn't pay much attention because that would defeat the point / put them back in front, so they usually have very little if any idea of what happened in this state, but it is possible for outside events to catch their attention enough for them to try fronting again. otherwise they'll be back next time the body wakes up. siffrin, on the other hand, usually won't front for at least a day or two after this happens, and will likely have forgotten the events leading up to it as well.

it doesn't happen very often since it's the very last resort, after siffrin dissociating, loop taking over, and loop dissociating. loop and siffrin don't consider the autopilot an alter because it doesn't form memories, have emotions or opinions, or interact in the headspace; it just follows where it's led, by habit or outside influence. loop has argued in favor of trying to imbue it with more personhood so it's less uncanny for other people to interact with and can get loop's attention when the distressing thing is over, but siffrin argues that if it can think that defeats the point, and they'd just end up with this new alter and a new autopilot.

past all that, the specifics will depend on the exact au; particularly the ratio of loop time to siffrin time will depend on how much siffrin works and how awful their job is, whether siffrin and/or loop have friends yet, etc. but i think when they're doing pretty well they'd be happy with siffrin doing work/chores and most of the activities that they both enjoy (since then they'll both remember it), and loop fronting for maybe a third of their free time to do their own thing, and maybe here and there if something goes wrong at work. and then if siffrin starts feeling burnt out, they swap for a couple days of loop doing most things and siffrin just coming out for an hour or two. siffrin and mal probably talk maybe a couple times a month, unless siffrin is really going through it, in which case they might talk a lot for a couple days. it also might be possible for mal to eventually adapt a little more to being safe, and start providing a wider range of possible interpretations instead of just the worst case scenario.

ok that's all! and as i said, i'm totally open to feedback. :3

[inside-lees-mind]

Shino Aburame Relationship HCs

I love bug boy. I’ve had things in my drafts for him for so long.

Warnings: NSFW (marked off clearly if you don’t want to read)

SFW:

If you listened to him when he spoke, instead of interrupting him or speaking over him without noticing, he’d feel appreciated.

However, he is still iffy on things, even then, for a while. Like if you say his name last, he’ll take it to heart even if the order of names wasn’t important.

He’ll take not being the first person on your mind personally.

But overtime, if you treat him like you see him, he’ll notice that.

And eventually, he falls for you. Probably before you really did for him, considering he’s a bit quiet.

If you’re quiet too, that’s okay. Things might just move slower.

But if you’re a bit or way more talkative, he’ll enjoy listening to you. He finds he doesn’t mind constant talking and rambling if it’s from you. He likes to listen to every detail and try to commit things he may need to know later to his memory.

Overtime, you’d find yourself falling for him. After all, once you get to know him you’ll realize he’s committed to protecting his friends and his bugs. And really he’s quite kind hearted.

Now it can be a little hard to be with him if you’re not willing to discuss bugs.

He won’t make you hold them if you don’t like them. In fact, if you’re afraid of them, he figures it may be best if you don’t handle them for their and your safety. Mostly theirs because they’re easy to hurt.

But you at least have to be willing to discuss and learn about bugs. After all, I hc him as autistic (I think he is 100% coded to be autistic. He’s a lot like me so I can totally see it) so that’s his special interest.

And Shino doesn’t easily see a point in engaging in a conversation not about his special interest.

He’ll find he’s willing to listen in about your interests (or special interests or hyperfixations) just because it’s you. And he wants to hear about you, and from you.

I think you’d have to be the one to ask him out.

So you do.

The relationship starts off slow. You’ll slowly get more from him, but he’s slow to open up, or to talk in general.

Most dates will be you talking, and him listening.

But you plan a date purposely centered around him, and at first he doesn’t notice, but soon you’re talking about his bugs and he starts to catch on.

You did a lot for him. And he feels special.

Really, the key to his heart is to see him. Make him feel special. Because he really is ❤️

You two garden together if you’re okay with getting your hands a little dirty.

He remembers your favorite flower from times like those when you tell him, and he’ll plant plenty for you. Even buy you some for the next date and special occasions.

He talks so highly of you.

Quiet dates usually.

Or dates where you both infodump.

He’d be perfectly okay with just existing in the same space quietly if you like that.

Eventually you’ll probably get to see his eyes! Don’t go around telling people what they look like though unless he’s told you that you can. More than likely, that’s more of between you two kind of thing.

If you’re a shinobi, he knows you can protect yourself, but he’d make sure he can cover your back well in anyway you could possibly need so he can protect you.

NSFW:

This takes a long time for him to be ready for.

But when you two are ready, he wants it to be perfect.

It’d have to be when you two are alone together in one of your bedrooms, no possibility of distraction or interruption.

Likely at night.

Your first time with him would be intimate, slow, and careful. A bit awkward too.

I’m willing to bet that he doesn’t often touch himself, so he’s not all that sure how he likes things.

He’ll be discovering a lot about himself with you because it’s not very likely he’s been with anybody before you.

He’s big, and he’s aware of that, though. So he wants to make sure you’re more than ready for him.

He’ll go down on you first if that’s okay with you. Finger you a bit during or after that.

Likely he’ll take his time getting to know exactly how you like things, and eventually it’ll get to the point you’re begging him to just put it in you.

When you see his cock for the first time, you do a double take for sure. He’s huge. And now you’re probably wonder how you’ll be able to handle him.

He’ll go slow, but I totally think this would be the one time he can barely control himself.

He’s so composed and put together most of the time. All serious. But being inside you makes him lose all of that. He’s drunk on you.

He tries to stay quiet, but things totally slip from his throat and out his lips. Quiet, but you notice.

He’s careful not to hurt you, but he’s in euphoria with the way you feel around him so his pace picks up a little bit rather he means to or not.

Now he’s not a minute man, it takes longer for him to cum even if this is 100% the best he’s ever felt in his life.

He cums hard though. And takes a little bit to recover from it, so if you want another round, give him a few minutes to breathe.

I think things with him would be rather vanilla (this might be projection tho, bc I’m a basic boring vanilla bitch)

He insists on using a condom and any means of protection you two can if you aren’t planning on having little kids running around any time soon.

Thank you for reading. I love Shino sm. If you have requests for him, send them in. Please.

[imperhine-deactivated20241019]

get lost.

aughsuhdh apologies for my sudden disappearance! i forgot how to write and how to characterize the ghouls... hopefully you guys would still like this somewhat.

ghouls featured: aether, cirrus, dewdrop/sodo, swiss

for the sake of continuity, let's say that this is the situation: someone approaches you and the ghouls start to get jealous. you deny any advances, and the person gets more aggressive. the ghouls step in.

warnings for: boundaries crossed (nothing graphic), more protectiveness and less possessiveness, a little bit of ghoul violence <3

+ the party went by smoothly, for the most part anyway. you've went around the place, stopping by to talk to a few people and small groups. you end up at the bar, leaning against the table. you catch a pair of unwanted eyes. you do your best to hide how your eyebrows furrow as you politely decline their offers to buy you a drink or take you someplace else.

+ their voice is bit louder and rougher, they take a step towards you. the interaction catches more attention as the person's actions become more aggressive. out of the corner your eye you see your ghoul approaching.

aether

- something about aether just makes him very good about feeling things out

- he takes steady steps towards you and the guy

- aether's purple gaze is almost striking as he stares them down

- he's right beside you. he trusts that you can take this one down (be that verbally or else) but he's letting you know that he's got your back

- "i think they've made themself clear. and it seems like your best option now is to go.

- that usual warm energy from him is replaced with something immovable. a threat unsaid, especially with how much force was put on that last word

- and if that person had eyes, they best back away.

- after that exchange, aether checks up on you

- he rubs your back and doesn't dwell much on that creep, instead focusing on you

- but if you ask, he's more than happy to teach them a lesson

cirrus

- cirrus is very protective, definitely

- so when she notices? she's infront of you, no questions asked

- you didn't even feel her move, just the slight gust of air

- cirrus has a sharp expression as she rests her hand on her hip

- there are little wisps that blow strands of her hair

- "hey you. what made you think that you had the right to run your mouth like that?"

- when an argument arises, cirrus punctuated her words with her tail. it slapped on the ground, sounding almost like whip that's been cracked

- that silences them quick

- if anything happens, cirrus will not have been the one to start it. but she'll counter hard. even with fabulous nails (claws).

- might have left a scar too. she will neither confirm nor deny

- she'll turn back to you as if she just swatted a fly

- "apologies, darling. but they won't be bothering you ever again. did you get hurt?"

- cirrus takes your hand and presses a kiss to your wrist

- she asks what you want to do next. she's happy to keep you distracted with a dance but won't mind if you want to go home. she'll pamper you <3

dewdrop

- he will throw hands

- his eyebrows are furrowed, he purposefully bumps against the person's shoulder

- dew's hand is protectively hovering in front of you

- "back off, shithead." he half growls

- dewdrop saw the way they talked and cornered you, he is not letting that slide

- he'll make sure to bruise that fucker in some way, drawing blood

- he looks at them with so much disgust once they scurry away. he wipes his claws and shakes it

- he sighs but it turns into a sheepish smile when facing you

- "sorry 'bout that... i couldn't help it. but more importantly, are you okay?"

- he tends to you and gives you anything you need

- dew is a little more cuddly afterwards, head rubbing against you adorably. he reminds you of a cat

- probably wants the smell of everyone else gone off you

swiss

- oh you just know that swiss always has his eyes on you

- for many reasons, but mostly because he thinks that you're eye candy

- the moment he notices something is off, he's immediately coming closer

- swiss lingers behind you, carefully eyeing them

- his hand wrapped around your waist

- swiss makes a clear sign that you're taken by the way he holds you

- "they said no." he says, annoyed. "now why don't you take your bullshit somewhere else?"

- swiss is ready to jump and fight as soon as they take a step closer

- will break their knees if needed

- but swiss will do his best to limit anything, as he wants your discomfort to end fast

- swiss clicks his tongue as they leave, eyes still glowing

- he holds your face as he moves a little closer to you

- "don't worry, i'm here for you. do you want me to... handle them later?"

- he says jokingly, but you know that you can answer and he will

- swiss kisses you on the nose

- he's more than happy to provide anything you need, kisses and comfort included. wanna order dessert? sure! cuddle? he's immediately going home and pulling you into his lap.

[saragarnier]

Could I request a Jay Halstead x Female Reader fic. Where Jay and reader are married and they are chasing after a suspect when reader gets shot in the stomach. After surgery to take the bullets out, she feels like she's let Jay down and worries they will never start a family. But Jay reassures her they will have a baby one day.

Healing Process

Summary: y/n got shot in front of Jay and discovered that she might not be able to have children

Pairing: jay halstead x wife! reader

Warning: shooting, guns, blood, and angst. There’s also some fluff

A/N: I really hope you’ll like that! Thank you for your request because i really love writing this. Let me know if you like it, i hope it’s like you imagined it.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Can you help me with the vest?” You asked to your husband, Jay Halstead, holding your hair to the side to make it easier for him.

“Of course, babe.” He reassured you, smiling softly and walking towards you; when he was right behind you, he adjusted your vest and he secured it, leaving a kiss on your neck when no one else was watching you. “The best part is taking that off, but i appreciate this too.” He whispered to your ear, making you blush.

“Jay!” You whispered back, looking at him with wide eyes. “You can’t say that at work, it’s forbidden! We both agreed to keep it as much professional as we could at work, no references to sex!”

Jay chucked, placing a kiss on your forehead and stepping back; he adjusted is own vest and positioned his gun in the holster placed on his right thigh.

He loved when you were angry and, first of all, he loved when he made you embarrassed because of his words. He perfectly knew the effect he had on you and he took advantage of that; when you reached him and tried to hit him slightly on his chest, he stepped back again.

“Come on babe, i’m just kidding!” He laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and stopping you from hurting him; he hid his face between your hair and he sighed. “Anyway, tonight i’m gonna take that off for sure… we still have to try to have a baby, right?” He said, smiling softly and caressing your hips with his hands. He paid so much attention when he was with you, always trying to make you feel good, always trying to make you feel comfortable. Sometimes he messed around with you, mostly because he wanted to tease you and make you angry, but he always paid attention to your feelings and needs.

“Right.” You whispered, nodding slightly. You smiled again and you relaxed in his arms, even if talking about baby was difficult for you. It was three months now that you tried to get pregnant and it wasn’t easy to take those tests and, every time, discovered that you weren’t able to do it, you weren’t able to get pregnant. You really wanted to start a family with Jay, you just couldn’t stop thinking about a mini Jay running around the house pretending to be a cop like his father and his mother. It was a dream for you both, probably the biggest dream you had: starting a family with the love of your life.

“Yeah, i know. I always like, you know, the process…” you whispered, reddening. “But i’m also tired. I just want to got pregnant and i can’t understand why it hadn’t happen yet. I mean, the gynecologist said that there’s nothing wrong with my body, so… i wish that tonight will be the night.”

“It will, love.” He kissed your head again, then he let you go and he added some distance between you two, hearing Voight’s steps on the stairs. “I promise you that we’ll have a family together, but first of all we have to catch that guy, okay?”

You nodded , becoming serious at once. He was right after all, you were at work and you needed to be focused on the job, in the guy that you had to catch for murder. It was a member of a gang that decided to got revenge alone, avenging his sister that was raped by one of the rival gang. It was not an easy case at all, especially when you found the guy’s sister at the entrance, crying. She knew that her brother had took revenge on his own and she knew that it wasn’t right, that’s why she accused her own brother for murder.

It wasn’t easy to speak with her because she was the victim after all. She suffered two times: when she was raped and when she discovered that her brother killed her raper.

“I still can’t understand how strong she was to accuse his own brother for the murder of her raper. She was broken inside and, still, she chose to be by the justice’s side. It’s remarkable.”

Jay nodded, sighing.

“Yeah, i know. It’s not an easy case but we have to pay attention. Even if she asked us to not hurt her brother, we have to be careful: he’s in a gang, he already killed once and he can do it again. Don’t think about her till we got him, alright?”

You nodded again, looking at your Sergeant and the others, that were just waiting for you two; you adjusted your hair in a ponytail and you walked towards them, ready to go.

“Okay. First of all i want to remember you that we’ll have to be careful. I want you all alive at the end of the shift, am i clear?”

You all nodded, paying attention to his speech, that was never the same. Sometimes he just recommended caution and told them to came back in one piece, sometimes he remembered them that they’re all a family and that they had to be united. You knew that those were just words, but you always appreciated them, especially because they came from Voight, that always seemed cold and strict at first sight, but was also sweet and kind with everyone he cared of.

The address that the sister gave you was actually a good hint; you separated and you went to the back of the house with Jay and Kevin while Adam, Kim and Voight entered from the front.

“CPD!” You heard Adam’s voice from the other side of the house and you immediately approached the back door to open it with Jay and Kevin by your side. You busted it open and you entered with your gun pointing in front of you, then you started to check the house to verify if he was there or not.

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

It was actually very obvious that the offender wasn’t in the house when you entered, but the beer on the table was still cold and you immediately understood that he was near.

“It’s still cold, he must have left some minutes before our arrival.” You pointed out, looking out of the window with your gun still in your hand, even if it was pointing at the floor. When you saw a figure outside the window, you got closer to identify him, but he started running away after dropping a box of pizza.

“Shit, he’s outside! He’s heading north!” You exclaimed, running after him with Jay at your side. The others got back to the cars, trying to stop him from the road while you two kept chasing him by foot.

“CPD, stop!” You screamed, running faster with your gun still in your hands. You tightened the grip in it, not sure about using it.

Before you could even think about that, the guy, after hiding behind a car on the road, pointed a gun at you both and started shooting at you.

“Gun!” You screamed, turning around towards Jay and throwing yourself on him, trying to took him down with you, where you both would have been covered.

“Are You okay?” You asked him, worried. He nodded and you both started to respond to fire.

“10-1, 10-1. Shots fired at the police. We need backup at our location. Black male, blue jeans and green hoodie.” You said at the radio, letting the rest of the unit know where you were. You took a deep breath, then you looked at Jay.

“Cover me!”

“What? No!” He screamed, trying to hold you from changing position. “It’s too far from here, he will shoot at us. We’re safe here and the unit’s coming. Just stay here and help me, we have just to resist.”

You looked at him, at how he responded to fire again and again but it never stopped; you didn’t know how many chargers the offender had, but he had many since it didn’t stop shooting , not yet. You had to do something about it, you just couldn’t stay there, responding to fire in a very bad position. You looked at Jay and you knew that at least you had to try; you didn’t tell him what you wanted to do because you were sure it wouldn’t have approved, you just did it.

You run towards another car that was at the other side of the road and you almost made it, you would have if Jay’s hadn’t finish on of his chargers. There was just few moments when Jay took his new charger from his pocket; he didn’t know that you were in the middle of the road when it happened, he just turned around to ask you how many chargers you still had and, when he didn’t see you there, he knew.

The first thing you heard was actually Jay screaming your name, then you heard the shot. You fell on the ground feeling a sharp pain in your abdominal area and, after that, all over your body. You knew that you were hit right under the vest and you knew that you were bleeding, you knew that because it was too much pain for just a bullet stopped by the vest. It wasn’t that, you had already felt that and the pain you were feeling was much worse.

Jay finally shot at the offender and he took him right in the chest; he fell on the ground without moving the same moment the rest of the unit arrived; Kevin ran towards the offender, discovering that he was dead, while the others ran towards you.

Jay was the first by your side while the others called an ambulance for you.

“Babe, shhh… you’re good, you will be good, okay? The ambulance is on its way” Jay applied as much pressure as he could, ignoring the moan of pain that escaped your lips. He could not let you die, not between his hands, not because of the fucking charger.

“Helps is seven minutes away.” Told a woman in the radio some moments after.

“It’s too much, we have to bring her to the hospital now!” Voight said, looking at Jay and the other. “Jay, can you took her into my car? I’ll drive you two to the hospital. Advise that we’re coming with an officer being shot.”

Jay didn’t wait a second: he took you in his arms and he got you inside Voight’s car, with him by your side. Your husband never left your side, he stayed with you all the time, applying pressure to your belly, where you were hit.

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry but i have to do it, babe.” Jay whispered when you moaned in pain again, feeling his pressure just on the wound. You knew that he was just saving your life and that you would have done the same for him, but all you could think was: “please, make it stop.”

You didn’t talk, especially since you were afraid you wouldn’t have been able to do it; you were really tired and you felt the darkness falling on you. Jay’s words seemed so distant and you just wanted to sleep, just for few hours.

“No, no! Don’t sleep!”

You mumbled something with your eyes closed, hearing doors being closed hardly and feeling your body so light in your husband arms that you immediately noticed the difference when he placed you on the stretcher.

“We got her, Jay. We got her, okay?”

Will.

That was Will, Jay’s brother.

That was the last thing you remembered before the darkness won against you.

When you woke up the next day, you heard someone talking just outside your room; they seemed nervous and anxious but you couldn’t understand why. You tried to open your eyes but the light was too bright for you, so you shut them again, trying to hear your husband talking with his own brother.

“They had to remove one of her ovaries, Jay. The bullet hit her there and they couldn’t repair the damage; besides that, the uterus is still intact and the same is for the other ovary.”

Jay was just shocked. He couldn’t believe his ears, he couldn’t believe that your chance of becoming parents was fading away slowly.

“We were trying to have a baby, Will.” Your husband said, his voice broken.

“I know, i know but look, I already told you that. You can still ha-“

Before he could continue, you finally open your eyes and you looked at them, both didn’t know what to do or what to say. It seemed like Jay and Will saw you, that’s why they entered the room without finished the sentence. It was weird but you couldn’t blame them for that, especially since you just lost your chances of becoming a mother with Jay.

How could you deny him a family? Was it the best for him? Will he be happy with you even without your own kids?

It was all your fault: you should have listened to him and stayed right where he said to, you should have told him that you wanted to go again and you shouldn’t have just done it without consulting not only your partner in work, but also your partner in life.

“Babe, you’re awake finally.” Jay sighed in relief, taking your hand in his and caressing it gently. “I was so worried about you, love. Please next time just advise me before doing something so stupid, okay?”

Jay was really trying to postpone the time of the bad news, you knew that because Jay was so obvious, especially with you. He just couldn’t lie, he was too good for it, even for small lies.

“Did they really remove my ovary?” You whispered, hoping that everything you heard was just a dream.

Please, God, tell me it’s just a nightmare.

Jay got pale in seconds, looking at you with wide eyes and trying to think about something that could have helped you with that, that could have helped you feeling less worried about everything.

“Yes, they… they did.” He whispered, gulping.

You looked at him and cried, looking up at the ceiling. When he noticed how broken you looked, he squeezed your hand gently and he tried to reassure you.

“It’s all my fault, it’s my fault. Now we won’t be able to have a family together and it’s all my fault.” You cried harder, ignoring the pain that you felt when you sobbed. The stitches didn’t help you with that and it made the pain worse, but it didn’t hurt as much as the news about your ovaries.

“Babe, no, no.” He took both your hands and he obliged you to look at him in the eyes, shaking his head and looking at you, concerned. “It’s not your fault and we’ll have a family together, okay? It’s just one of the ovaries, it will be difficult to get you pregnant but we’ll do it, okay? We’ll have a family and, if we won’t we can still adopt.”

He was right, but you were too shocked to hear him; all you thought was how bad Jay wanted a family, you knew that the moment he asked you to be his wife and you knew that he always dreamed about being a dad. How could you deny him that dream?

“Maybe we should divorce.” You whispered, without fully thinking straight. “You always dream of having a family and you can’t with me. You know how many times we tried and i didn’t get pregnant; with only one ovary will be extremely difficult. You deserve a woman that can give you your own children, not someone like me…”

Jay shook his head, astounded. He couldn’t believe his ears, he could believe what you just said . Were you serious? How could you even think about that?

“What?! No!” He exclaimed, tightening your hand. “Look at me, babe. I do not care about having my own children, i just want a family WITH YOU. It won’t be the same with someone else, they’ll not be you and i only want to become a dad with you, my love. Besides, Will told that you still can become a mother, we’ll just have to rely on some specialist, maybe, that can help us with that, but we’ll have our baby, okay? You don’t have to be worried, we’ll be parents, i promise you that.”

You listened to him carefully and, slowly, you started to feel better. He was always able to help you calm down when you were panicking, and it was one of those moments. He was so sweet and calm with you, even when you said things like that, like a divorce.

Probably you would have panicked on his side, that’s why you thought that having Jay by your side as your husband was the best thing in your life.

He didn’t want to give up on having a family with you and you shouldn’t have too.

“Okay.” You whispered, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry Jay, i love you and I shouldn’t have said that.”

He sighed deeply, then he lowered down on your bed and placed a kiss on your forehead, stroking your hair gently. “Don’t worry babe, i know that you didn’t expect it and i can understand why you reacted this way, but you don’t have to give up on our family because I won’t. I love you so much, babe and we’ll be parents together.”

You nodded and relaxed, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

He was right.

“I love you too, Jay, i really do.” You whispered back, squeezing his hand in yours and smiling softly. “And I can’t wait to become a mother with you.”

“You’ll be the best mom in the world.” He smiled again. “And I can’t wait to see you with a belly, my love. You’ll be amazing, you already are after all.”

You blushed and chuckled, hiding your face behind your hand.

“Have the doctor said when we’ll be able to try again with the pregnancy?” You asked, after some minutes.

“Not yet baby, but you have to heal before that. When you’ll be fine, we’ll try again and trust me, i can’t wait.”

“Jay!” You chuckled, shaking your head slightly. You smiled at him and you bit your bottom lip. “You’re incredible, but i love you so much.”

“Me too baby, me too.”

[blurredcolour]

Shake It Off

Summary: Called to the Lee/Hamilton wedding near the start of your shift to aid an eighty-year-old woman experiencing chest pains, you hope against hope not to run into someone from your past. But the man you meet there might just be your future.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Paramedic!Reader

Warnings: Medical Scenarios, Awkward Social Situations, Dress Whites, Language, Military Inaccuracies, Paramedical Inaccuracies, Rating - T.

Author's Note: Inspired by the song Shake It Off by Taylor Swift, written for @laracrofted's 1989 Challenge! Thank you very much for hosting the challenge, Amelia!

Word Count: 3075

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

Maybe he won’t be here.

The thought was fleeting, and born of desperation, as you pulled up to behind the fire truck in front of the Horton Grand Hotel.

There are plenty of people with the last name of Lee, the fact that this call is taking us to the Lee/Hamilton wedding doesn’t mean he will be here. Maybe it won’t even be a Navy wedding.

Jumping out of the driver’s seat of the ambulance, your hopes were immediately dashed as a tall man in dress whites stepped forward when you reached the rear doors.

“Damn, angel, you are devastating.” He drawled smoothly and you fairly felt his eyes, mostly obscured beneath the brim of his combination cap, tracing down your uniform as you reached forward to help your partner Delgado unload the stretcher.

“Good evening, sir.” You replied with crisp professionalism. “We’re here because someone called 911?”

“You brought one of those AEDs, right? Because I think you stopped my heart…” His peach-pink lips stretched back into a grin to reveal two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth.

“You’re our 80-year-old woman, sir? Please describe your chest pain.” Delgado replied flatly and you bit your lip to prevent your smirk, loading your gear onto the gurney.

Delgado was your first regular EMT partner since your move to San Diego nearly a year ago, wooed by the $50,000 bonus Falck offered to try and stabilize their work force. He was young, his social skills more than a little rough around the edges, but he worked hard and knew his stuff. Listened to your personal woes without too much complaint and was quite honestly the closest person you had to a friend here - working the graveyard shift as a paramedic really did not afford a lot of social opportunities.

And right now, you did not at all mind that he was there to get between you and the pretty boy in uniform. Because that meant he might be willing to run interference with someone else if the need arose.

“Ms. Mable is just this way, follow me.” The handsome stranger replied easily, undeterred, and turned to lead the pair of you through the lobby, smoothly tucking his cap under his arm as he stepped inside – a well practiced move you did your damnedest to ignore. Particularly the flex of his bicep.

Following just a few steps behind him, you guided the foot of the stretcher as Delgado came last, pushing the head of it. The lobby was narrow, no more than a tiled hallway really, with a wall of windows overlooking a New Orleans style courtyard – currently filled with women in formal dresses, men in suits, and a sea of dress whites. You quickly ducked your head, focusing on following the shoes of the man in front of you.

“I’m honestly not sure what happened, she seemed to be having a great time, dancing and laughing…and then she started clutching at her chest, having trouble catching her breath.” You perked up as he finally began to say something useful.

“Did the firefighters move her somewhere more quiet?” You asked as he led the pair of you past the sign welcoming guests to the Lee/Hamilton Wedding and over to a door beside the front desk.

“Yes, we were using this space for the wedding party anyway, so we set her up in the meeting room, just here.” Pulling open the door, he gestured for you and Delgado to proceed inside.

The crew from the fire truck had set a makeshift bench out of banquet chairs for her to sit upon, the wheeled meeting chairs pushed into a corner to make as much room as possible, but it still felt cramped. The patient was resting comfortably while Lombardo, their firefighter/paramedic, was assessing her vitals and reviewing the cardiac monitor.

Ms. Mable was all of five foot two, a cloud of perfectly styled, white hair upon her head, not a strand out of place despite the dramatic turn her evening had taken. Her face was etched with the lines of a life well-lived, yet she was easily holding court amongst the crew of physically intimidating individuals, animatedly recounting a story about the cutting of a cake with a sword, based on the few words you were able to catch. They stood in their suspendered Nomex trousers and heavy boots, entranced by her performance, as a woman in her mid-fifties sat close at hand, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings.

“Thank you for your assistance, sir.” You quickly tossed back over your shoulder to your guide before diving right into the scene, pulling on your nitrile gloves, all concern about the possible presence of a certain individual vanishing in the face of your job.

Once Lombardo had fully handed the scene over to you, as it was quite apparent that this was most likely a case of angina for which the woman already carried a prescription of nitroglycerin, you settled in to talk with Ms. Mable yourself. The departure of the first responders made the room feel infinitely more spacious.

“I hear you were tearing it up on the dance floor this evening…” You smiled warmly as Delgado continued to track her vitals.

“I’ve always had a hard time saying no to good-looking pilots….my Gerry was a pilot, you know. Fifty-three years together and he got away with everything. So, when this handsome, blonde flyboy from Texas kept asking me to dance there was no way I could turn him down.” The corners of her eyes creased with mirth, and you grinned warmly as the woman laughed beside her, shaking her head fondly.

“Breathing and cognition are good.” You turned back to Delgado who added the notes to the electronic file with a nod. “How many sprays of nitroglycerin did you end up taking, Ms. Mable?”

“Two, five minutes apart, just like the pamphlet says. I really am feeling much better, I’m so sorry to have made such a fuss but my daughter, Deborah, had already dialed before I could stop her.”

“No apologies necessary, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.” You nodded to her daughter reassuringly. “Are you local or just in town for the wedding?”

“Oh, lived here for the past forty years ever since Gerry was stationed at Miramar. Once you give up snow for palm trees and sand it’s impossible to ever go back. I saw you’re not wearing a ring, dear, is that just for the job?”

Delgado snorted indelicately and if it were not for the paperwork involved you would have delivered a swift kick to his shin.

“No, Ms. Mable, just haven’t found the right man yet.” You steadily increased the volume of your voice to drown out Delgado’s utterance of ‘not for lack of trying.’ “You have a cardiologist whom you see regularly?”

Mable blinked a little at the sudden change in your tone but answered all the same, “Dr. Atwal, same age as my grandson. But he knows his business, so I listen to him. San Diego is a fabulous place to meet a young fellow you know, so many eligible men out there. A lot of handsome pilots especially…even here tonight.”

A flash of movement, accompanied by a swell in the noise of the reception down the hall, caught your attention and you raised your eyes to see the face of your guide from earlier peering through a small gap in the doorway.

“Lieutenant Seresin…” You heard Ms. Mabel sigh fondly before her heart rate began to increase alarmingly. Your eyes snapped to the cardiac monitor to review the screen for evidence of any abnormal rhythms, aware of Delgado doing the same in your periphery.

“Now Ms. Mabel, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Jake…” He drawled and that’s when you placed his accent…Texas.

He was the handsome fly boy at the centre of all the tumult then. Somehow this did not surprise you at all.

“Where would the fun be in that, Lieutenant?” Came Mable’s repartee with a wicked grin and you straightened, well aware that you needed to put a stop to this before she reached her maximum doses of nitro just for a little flirting.

“Lieutenant Seresin, would you mind stepping out so we can do our jobs? Thank you.” You turned to look up at him authoritatively, wishing you weren’t able to see how green his eyes were in this light. How his hair reminded you of spun gold, especially when it was highlighted by the medals and pins and buttons of his uniform.

“Apologies Miss, just wanted to check on Ms. Mable here…” You noticed the way his grip tightened on the wood of the door and his eyes flitted to the floor guiltily.

He was not the first nosey by-stander you had asked to step back, nor would he be the last, and yet your heart spasmed as though you had kicked his puppy.

“Much better, and she’ll continue on that path if we can finish up, thank you.” You found yourself reassuring him, willfully ignoring Delgado’s scoff.

Whether your boot knocking into his was intentional or an accident was something he, thankfully, did not question. With a sigh of relief, the Lieutenant closed the door, and you were able to turn your attention fully back to your patient, whose heart rate was normalizing, yet her eyes were full of mischief.

“Quite the catch, isn’t he?” She fairly crowed.

You cleared your throat forcefully to refocus and looked over everything once more. “Ms. Mable, I really don’t think you’re having a heart attack. Of course, we do recommend going to the hospital to have everything checked out by the doctors there.”

She was already shaking her head halfway through your statement. “Absolutely unnecessary, young lady. Where’s the thing to sign? I don’t need another ambulance ride.”

“Mom, are you sure? She said they recommend…”

“Deborah, no. If you want, you can drive me, but this is excessive.”

After a little more back and forth, Ms. Mable ended up signing the ‘refusal of service against medical advice’ form and you and Delgado packed up your gear.

“Have a good night Ms. Mable, but maybe stay away from blonde pilots from Texas?” You teased warmly before making your way back out to the lobby.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom. Finally, a chance to pee somewhere with nice smelling soap.” Delgado excused himself, leaving you alone next to a circular table near the front entrance.

The sound of the wedding party drifting through glass doors behind you in the courtyard fanned the banked coals of your anxiety into roaring flames once more now that the distraction of your duties had been removed. Brigham had to be here somewhere, this was surely his pilot’s wedding…

You surged forward toward the front doors, wanting to at least wait outside, and nearly ran headfirst into Lieutenant Seresin.

“Easy there, angel. Sorry about that. Already on your way to your next call?” He steadied you easily, hands on your shoulders. Enveloping your shoulders.

Shaking your head quickly, you laughed once at yourself. “Just heading outside to wait for my partner, the gurney takes up a lot of space.” You stepped out of his grasp and swallowed thickly. “Have a good night, Lieutenant.” You tried once again to make your escape but found him walking along with you, on the other side of the stretcher. Helping.

“Ms. Mable refused to take a ride with you?” He asked, sliding his cover onto his head as you stepped outside.

You shrugged softly, not really at liberty to discuss it, opening the back of the ambulance and loading the stretcher inside. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy the rest of the party.”

He smirked, leaning against the back of ambulance unhurriedly. “You seemed to be missing the part where I’m much more interested in getting to know you, angel.”

You opened your mouth to try and summon some form of polite refusal when you heard his voice.

“Yo Hangman, are you harassing anything in a uniform these days?” Followed by that irritating laugh that you had never really had a chance to try and find a reason to love.

You watched the muscle between Lieutenant Seresin’s eyebrows twitch before he turned to face the jokester, revealing Brigham “Harvard” Lennox. He looked exactly the same as your second and final date nearly six months ago, appearance slightly improved by the dress whites, though you noticed his cap was negligently still tucked beneath his arm. His arm upon which a dewy-skinned, long-limbed, glossy-haired woman hung.

He blinked a little in recognition as his eyes fell upon your face and you offered a polite smile.

“Nice to see you again…” he said a name, not your name, but at least the first letter was the same. For the sake of letting this agony end, you would have let it go, if not for Delgado’s untimely return.

His reflexive correction of your first name as he walked through the group to hop up into the back of the ambulance without a second’s hesitation immediately thickened the ambient tension.

“Oh right, yeah, been a while huh?” Brigham grinned vacuously, not even having the grace to appear embarrassed. “Lookin’ good…” He added disingenuously, glancing over your uniform with less than kind eyes, moving his arm to wrap around his date’s silk-clad waist. You watched as her perfectly manicured gel nails came to rest on his bicep, a silent proclamation that her job, if she had one, was nothing like yours.

“Oh shit, this is that pilot who ghosted you a while back.” Delgado blurted out from over your shoulder where he was stowing the last of the gear, and you clenched your fists.

“Weapon systems officer.” You snapped despite your desire to keep the exchange civil, but halfway through the correction, you realized you were speaking in unison with Lieutenant Seresin.

You didn’t miss the way Brigham’s jaw clenched in dismay before turning to see Delgado backing away with both hands raised in surrender. “Whatever, I’ll be up front.”

“So, which one of your ‘exam questions’ did she fail, Harvard?” Lieutenant Seresin asked, tone light and playful but with a dangerous edge to it.

The latter scoffed and shook his head. “What are you even talking about Hangman?!” He protested loudly.

“Baby, I’ll meet you at the car, ‘kay?” Brigham’s date pulled back, patting his chest, and tottered away on her heels.

“No really,” Lieutenant Seresin dropped the friendly façade and looked over his colleague seriously. “Which was it then? Exclusivity? Kids? Careers?”

As he listed each topic his eyes flicked between your face and Brigham’s increasingly scarlet and annoyed expression. You tried to keep an impassive mask but there was a slight tick in your jaw as you involuntarily clenched your teeth at the word ‘career.’ You had long suspected that had been the reason his texts had stopped coming. The fact that you wanted one and he wanted someone to dedicate their lives to supporting him in his.

Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes flashed in recognition, and he rounded on Brigham. “Apologize to the lady for ghosting her over having career ambitions, Harvard.” He said firmly.

“What the hell are you even talking about Hangman, you don’t even know…” Brigham sputtered in protest and a small part of you wanted to tell Lieutenant Seresin not to worry about it.

“You were an idiot, Brigham. Now apologize.” He repeated firmly and any thought of excusing Brigham’s behaviour died in that instant, because it was true. He had been an idiot and it had been painful. You had been rather convinced it was going nowhere fast, but sudden and complete silence had hurt all the same.

You almost missed the apology as the first time Brigham delivered it; he used that wrong name again. Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes narrowed into an icy glare, and it was quickly amended to your proper name.

“Now go find your date before you screw up that relationship too.” Lieutenant Seresin gestured with his chin for him to go away before barking after him, “Cover!”

Brigham slammed his cap onto his head and only walked faster toward the parking lot as you chewed on your lower lip savagely lest you do something unseemly like indulge in laughter at his expense. You took a steadying breath before turning back to face your unexpected ally.

“Come on, they’re holding calls!” Delgado shouted from the front seat, and you exhaled with that withheld laugh. One that Lieutenant Seresin echoed.

“In an effort to restore the reputation of the United States Navy, and prove to you that Brigham Lennox is an aberration, will you let me take you out for a drink?” He tilted his head with an inviting curl of his lips.

He had absolutely no right looking that attractive, or being that good of a man, or putting Brigham in his place so handily.

“I…I’m sorry I just started my shift at nine…” You fussed with your stethoscope nervously, trying to pull it into place around your neck even though it was already right where it was most comfortable.

“What time do you get off, then?” He persisted. “I’ll buy you breakfast.”

You frowned in thought, weighing the pros and cons of spending more time on another Navy boy, when an all-call came through the radio, drowning out your internal dialogue.

–  All available units, MCI northbound interstate five just after First Avenue underpass, please respond –

Your eyes widened as Delgado immediately picked up the receiver.

“Medic 3-6 responding, approximately seven minutes out.”

“Lieutenant, I have to go.” You looked to him quickly, stepping up into the ambulance, closing one door and reaching for the second as he swung it towards you. You stopped it suddenly with your palm, yanking a business card containing your station information from your front pocket and slid it into his free hand.

“My shift ends at nine, won’t be ready before 9:30. As for when I get off…” You couldn’t hold back your smirk any longer, your heart skipping a beat, making you thankful you weren’t hooked up to the cardiac monitor just then. “…we’ll just have to see about that.”

His blinding grin was the last thing you saw before you pulled the other door to the rig shut, shouting for Delgado to pull out, lights and sirens ablaze.

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

>>> return to main masterlist

[wonuwrites]

Love Me Anyway Song Reaction (Performance Unit)

this is from this anon request xo I love this song so much and so happy anon showed me a cute new song :D

vocal unit || performance unit || hip hop unit

Warnings: some body confidence issues again in Jun's, smidge angst in Minghao's, cussing, mostly fluffy though.

Just like other song preferences, members drabbles will be in order of the song lyrics. Also some lyrics will be similar to vocal units and tbh I'm not sorry. I feel like I made them different enough <3

ok enjoy :D

ღ Jun: "And I love you because you're understanding when I'm too shy to show my skin."

You sighed as you looked at all the clothes on your floor. You were packing for your annual girls trip but all the clothes you bought when you were with the girls just made you feel so self conscious and made you want to take some scissors to some parts. As you were starting to spiral, Jun walked into your shared room and raised an eyebrow at the mess. "Nothing looks good on me, baby." You would sigh before falling onto your shared bed. This would make him scoff before picking up some of the clothes. He knew fighting over how true that statement was useless when it came to you feeling this way so he decided just to be there for you physically. He would just kiss your forehead and lay next to you. "Do-do you want one of my shirts when you go?" You would almost cry because he knew that you found comfort in his clothes and you were just so thankful for him.

ღ Hoshi: "Sometimes I forget, wasn't always this way. It's hard to admit I was the one to blame."

You sat on the couch in the practice room and watched Soonyoung and the rest of Seventeen practice for their upcoming tour. Even if there were thirteen extremely talented and handsome guys in front of you, Soonyoung caught your eye the most. You smiled as you watched him do what he loved doing and couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to be his. You both were so happy and made time for each other even if schedules were packed. You both made each other a priority. Sometimes it feels like it's always been this way but you knew it wasn't. In fact, you used to be super against the idea. You thought Soonyoung was a great guy but dating an idol? That would be awful. You ignored his advances for months until he basically got onto his knees and said "(Y/N), please. Just one chance. Let me change your mind. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it magical." Which he did. Hell even when it came out that you were dating, Carats were super supportive and even joked with Soonyoung that they liked you more. He would act offended but he couldn't blame them. You were an absolute catch and every day he thanked the universe for allowing you to give him a chance.

ღ Dino: "I love you because when I say "I don't wanna talk" you always call me.

You can't help it, you are a little over dramatic. Ok, maybe A LOT dramatic. What can you say though? It's in your DNA. It's something you try to work on but sometimes, it just happens. Just like tonight, you can't even explain what Chan did but it just set you off where you thought you might want space. You walked out of the bar that you were with Chan and the rest of Seventeen and waited for your uber to come and get you. You hadn't told anyone you were leaving including Chan so it wasn't a shock when he started to spam your phone with calls and texts. [10:13 Channie: "where did you go?"] You sighed and noticed your uber pulled up to you. You said hello to the driver before getting in and responding. [10:14 Y/N: "just got into an uber, I'm going home for the night. I don't wanna talk tho. goodnight."] You then put your phone on do not disturb before looking out the window. However, even with DND activated, you still felt your phone vibrating with texts and calls from Chan. You were about a block away from your apartment when you finally answered your boyfriend. "Chan-" "(Y/N), I just need to know you're safe, if we are okay, if I need to kick someones ass, if you still love me," you heard him ramble on and on which made you smile a bit. You honestly couldn't remember why you were upset with him and you assured him that you still loved him and that you were almost home.

ღ Minghao: "After all this time, you were right. Can we take more Polaroids for you to hide."

Fighting with Minghao was never fun because you both got super emotionally invested in your fights. It was emotionally exhausting to try to not be sad because of what happened and figure out how to solve the problem. This time around, you realized quickly that there was no need for a "solution" just a simple apology which was all he asked for. You decided after work you would just apologize. When you got home you were a little surprised to find polaroids "hidden" around your shared home. With sticky notes explaining each picture or reasons why he loved you. After finding about five Polaroids you couldn't help but feel tears fall down your cheeks. You realized Minghao was feeling a similar way to the fight and this was his way of saying "I don't want to fight anymore because look what we have, it's good." You found a few more before you realized he was right behind you with a soft smile. He had been following you around since you got there but you were so caught up in memory lane you didn't realize. "hey," he whispered while grabbing your hands. "I'm sorry," you whispered while pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry too," he whispered back before kissing the top of your head. "can we take more Polaroids soon?" This caused him to giggle before agreeing.

this was so soft. ty again anon <3

[gateau-au-earl]

kuroshitsuji s4e1/ED thoughts

ok yall now that it has been over 24 hrs and I've seen the ep over three times, I have THOUGHTS. mostly very positive, everything was beautful to look at and the 1:1 comparisons between the manga and the anime made me very happy as a veteran kuro fan that had to live through the mess of s1 and s2 plots (even tho they might have a sentimental place in my heart just because of nostalgia).

but i wanted to come on here and yap about the ending theme and how it encapsulates sebastian and ciel's complicated and very interesting relationship. idk abt yall but im a big fan of the op and ed this season!

first things first just to get this outta the way, I dont interpret them as a ship so please dont come in here with that interpretation 👁️ I'm serious .

that being said -

the ending theme is beautiful in both its animation and what it says about the butler and earl's relationship. I'm just gonna get the gushing outta the way first but it was aesthetically GORGEOUS in its animation. the way ciel fell so gracefully and the colors with SID's music is cinematic perfection. the change in animation style is very easy on the eyes as well! gg cloverworks animation team!

this has been marinating for a while, but what really gets me is the scene where ciel falls. he is falling into darkness, when it suddenly becomes lighter, with the sun illuminating the clouds. sebastian "saves" him and they fall together across this very pretty backdrop.

the demon might've caught him, but that doesn't prompt him to rescue ciel, to stop him from falling to his death.

sebas instead gently takes ciel's hand to guide him there. he gives ciel a false sense of security, of trust, catching the boy when he's at his darkest place, but instead of saving him, he drags him to down to his hell. he is deceiving ciel with a beautiful view and promises in their contract that will ultimately hurt ciel. its cruel and will only lead to pain for our earl.

sebas is a demon (obviously) who is leading ciel to his doom, but the path they take is twisted and tragic but strangely beautiful like the gorgeous sky in the ED.

ciel enjoys the power and omnipotence he has with sebastian, knowing full well the demon is leading him to his demise. he knows that this relationship will end him being sebastian's dinner. ciel knows he can't trust sebas, but does anyways because sebas is the only person who can't hurt him until he inevitably does.

the fall might result in an ugly death, but the view is pretty nice on the way down. the beautiful sky colored with deception, manipulation and misplaced trust.

yeah, sebastian will end up hurting ciel the most at the end, but the boy doesn't care at the moment. sebas is the only ""person"" who knows him with all the ugliness of his past, yet still protects him, serves him, and doesn't treat him like a helpless creature. so ciel is forced to place trust in a fundamentally untrustworthy creature knowing he is inches away from the demons bared fangs.

sebastian helps him survive his living hell now and get what he needs to get done, so he doesn't care what happens after. his descent to darkness becomes much more beautiful as a result.

shippers may have one interpretation (which I'm NOT a fan of...), but this is how I see it, and I think it makes this ending all the more impactful and tragic. but here I am, and I'm enthralled by the beauty and can't look away.

anyways, thanks for reading my brain dump, and looking forward to ep 2 folks!!! hope yall liked my micro analysis/semi organized gushing, and r enjoying this kuro renaissance as much as I am! here's a professor michaelis for reading this far

[taintedtort]

prompt ✧ them as your campus crush

characters ✧ kazuha, xiao, scaramouche, childe, albedo

warnings ✧ gn!reader, college!au

a/n ✧ i should probably work on the 3 requests sitting in my drafts, but i will procrastinate instead

KAZUHA

✧ hes the mr nice guy type, always helping people around campus whenever he can. he’s mostly found in the cafe near the university, no matter what time of day it is. when you first saw him sitting at the corner table all alone, his coffee and pastry in front of him, you couldn’t help but stare. he looked so gorgeous sitting there looking at his phone, honestly you were jealous he was able to be so effortlessly good looking. ever since then, you made a point to visit said cafe whenever you could. you might be so lucky as to be invited to his table one day!

XIAO

✧ xiao is the guy who keeps to himself. no one really notices him, unless they find him attractive, but then they loose interest when they figure out he doesn’t even want to have a simple conversation with them. he’s mostly found in his dorm, much to your dismay, but you’ve graciously been given the chance to have some classes with him. you try to sit next to or behind him as much as possible without looking weird. you pray he‘ll have a shrivel of interest when you finally get the guts to talk to him.

SCARAMOUCHE

✧ he doesn’t bother with making friends. no one’s good enough to his standards anyway, and that mindset is also the reason why no one approaches him. he shoots girls down left and right, he honestly thinks his good looks are a curse sometimes. he’s mostly found in class, he rarely skips— which is sort of surprising. his 'too good’ attitude is usually a turn off for most girls, but not you. all you wanted to do was peel off that tough exterior he puts on. when you first starting sitting next to him in the classes you two shared, he instantly noticed. he didn’t say anything though, so maybe you have a chance!

CHILDE

✧ everyone loves him. he’s always going to parties and staying out late, he really doesn’t want to miss that "college experience". so if you wanna catch him, you’ll have to go to a dorm party at some random persons place. it’ll take a while to find him through the crowd, but once you do it made it all worth it. he has the biggest smile and a lively energy surrounding him. he just looked so in place, while you did not. maybe that’s what made him notice you. when his eyes met yours and his smile widened even bigger, you knew you made the right choice in going.

ALBEDO

✧ albedo is always on top with his assignments. everyone hounds him for answers because he’s so approachable. a lot of girls tend to crush on him, but he never gives them a chance, he’s too focused on his studies. he‘s usually found in the campus library, multiple books stacked on his table. when you sat across from him the first time, he didn’t even glance up, he was way too engrossed with reading. however, it gave you a chance to admire his features a little closer up. but when you saw his lip twitch slightly into a grin and his eyes drift up to meet yours, you felt your face heating.

[mosylufanfic]

If you're still doing it, Casual Encounters for the fic titles?

For this title, nonny, I'm absolutely still doing it.

I love the thought of Jyn being the queen of one-night stands. It's just easier that way, you know? She tried to be the girlfriend type in high school but they always got so pouty and whiny when she didn't call them back. She has no desire to call them back. They're going to make her do shit like go to the movies or out to dinner before they get down to business.

Look, she is what she is, she's not going to apologize for it. She's busy. Scholarships don't win themselves, and while she knows her foster dads' employment at Yavin University will take care of most of her tuition, she's determined not to be beholden for the rest of it.

When she gets into college, she stops trading numbers. By her junior year, she stops trading names. Stops them when they try. Yavin University is big enough that she doesn't have to see anybody twice if she doesn't want to.

Bodhi doesn't like it, mostly because he's got some dude friend in his grad program that he thinks would be just perfect for her. "He's smart, he's funny, he can keep up with you - I just think if you met him, you'd like him."

"You're a romantic," Jyn says, and both of them know it's not a compliment.

Anyway, there's this guy that keeps turning up. Dark eyes, tall and lean, fine with no names. Just her type. He even had his own condoms the first time they hooked up in the backyard of a frat party.

She breaks her own no-repeat rule the next time she sees him, at a bar. He buys her a drink, then fingerbangs her in the alley. She goes down on him in his car. It's only polite, if you think about it.

It gets to be a thing. Sequential one-night stands, catching each other at parties and bars and street fairs and one time a visiting professor's lecture. (They did wait until the lecture was done. It was really good.)

They still don't know each others' names. Sometimes she thinks he'd like to ask.

Sometimes she'd thinks she'd like to tell him.

He doesn't sleep over, of course. God, of course not. The one day he wakes up in her bed was because they ran into each other at the library in the wee hours, both of them pulling near-all-nighters to finish midterm projects.

"Stress release?" he offers.

One of her other rules is that she never fucks in the university library because if Chirrut or Baze or one of their co-workers ever caught her, it would be unspeakably awkward. Which is why she impulsively says, "My place isn't far."

She wakes up before him and waits to feel that recoiling sensation of somebody being too close. She doesn't. That's weird.

She gets up and goes to make coffee. A key scrapes in the lock, and Bodhi staggers in, yawning.

"I've got someone here," she says once she finishes teasing him about his walk of shame. "He might want the shower."

Bodhi grunts, guzzling coffee, just as Jyn's bedroom door opens. She's head-deep in the fridge, trying to determine if the yogurt is worth the risk, so she just hears her multiple-one-night-stand's voice, ringing with shock. "Bodhi?"

Bodhi says, "Cassian?!"

(Of course, inspired by @andorerso's Rebelcaptain Smut Month. Does this count?)

[danfrik]

IT IS I, ONCE AGAIN.

Did'ya miss me? Probably not, anyway.

I'm here with another drawing that I kind of procrastinated to finish until today-

It took me like five hours to finish what I already had started...

But whatever, welcome again to my impulsive (and kind of stupid) little brain, I'm going to talk about this and you will read everything.

⚠️Minor/Major Spoilers Ahead⚠️

First things first.

I want to make clear that, yes, Miles and Phoenix switched bodies just like Aziraphale and Crowley did.

Those marks on Phoenix's face? Let's just say that that one headcanon about holy water tears is a thing here (because I'm a sucker for angst).

I also want to point out some details about the switch thing because... well, I just want to talk about every little detail, let me cook.

• On Good Omens (the TV show, of course), Crowley (as Aziraphale) has an ice cream while Aziraphale (as Crowley) has a popsicle, but here I decided to be special and reverse that because, honestly, I see Phoenix being more of a popsicle guy, and Miles more of an ice cream type of man, don't ask me why.

(Also, I gave Miles a strawberry ice cream with sprinkles and Phoenix a grape popsicle, I'm sure you know why.)

(Because Miles likes pink and Phoenix likes "grape juice", that's why.)

• One of the things that I did to make the switch slightly more obvious is the frown, more specifically Miles' frown, the old "Edgeworth glare™️".

So, no matter how hard Miles is pretending to be Phoenix, we cannot take away his glare. On the other hand, Phoenix is really expressive (even behind those shades, yes), so he'll try to keep it either slightly neutral or keep that rest bitch expression (did I say that right?).

I mean... he is pretending to be Miles, y'know?

• Other thing that I did was change Phoenix's clothes while Miles is pretending to be him.

Gave him a waistcoat and his tie back because, of course, Miles thinks they suit Phoenix just fine (and he is absolutely right) and because he could never dress like a basic bitch, he is a classy bitch after all.

Oh, and I gave Phoenix a little handkerchief, like I said, Miles is a classy bitch... with questionable fashion sense *stares at his jabot*.

And, not gonna lie, Phoenix has no fashion sense, at all, the only reason he slays like he does in his usual outfit, is because he takes Miles' advice every now and then, but if it were for him he would wear crocs with socks (I mean, based, I do that too).

• Oh, I almost forgot about a tiny detail.

Miles also managed to brush Phoenix's little flick of hair, you know that one.

He likes to be presentable, no hair out of place.

• Phoenix didn't change anything of Miles, he is perfect as it is (jabot and all, I guess).

Now that I covered those little details, I can proceed to talk about other things >:)

Actually, is more of the same topic anyway.

The whole switching bodies trick, that is.

Aside from the details about costume and mannerisms, I want to talk about both sides.

How Phoenix will act in heaven and Miles in hell?

I picture it kind of like this:

For Miles side, pretending to be Phoenix is not as difficult as he would've thought, at least for the bantering and body language part.

Quite surprisingly, he does pretty great, the only difficult part might be the facial expressions, but he managed to not catch anyone's attention anyway.

Like in the TV show (Good Omens, I mean), Miles exaggerates little things about Phoenix, like being a bit more dork, maybe even a bit nonchalant or flamboyant, slightly dramatic but not too much.

Now for Phoenix, it is kind of difficult for him to not react at the petty coments and keep a neutral face but he manages, though his eyes speak for him, of course.

He keeps this solemn atitude, even spoke with the same flourishness that Miles tends to speak with, and bows before the Archangels.

Not that he wants to, but he knows that Miles does that out of respect for any higher being.

His body is mostly stiff, not daring to make any sound unless necessary, he only dared to glare when the hellfire came and when they insulted Miles.

Miles, much like Aziraphale, played with the holy water, splashing just enough so it won't reach anyone but also enough so no one would dare to get close to him.

Also joked around and asked for a rubber duck and a towel (and almost dared to ask for some scented candles).

"Y'know? It is quite relaxing being like this, it feels refreshing, a demon could get used to this."

With Phoenix is quite similar as to how Crowley messed a little with the Archangels, but he didn't stay silent.

He took a deep breathe once he was on the fire, did the "breathing fire" trick as well, and made a little joke, as if taunting them for not being able to destroy Miles nor him.

"I've been to hell recently, it was really lovely if you ask me, warm and cozy... you'd like it."

And so, both sides let them go and switch back again.

Leading to a small talk about both sides leaving them alone for a while, the not-apocalypse, the "antichrist" and all that.

Of course, finishing with that date- I mean, dinner at the Ritz, cheering for the world while a nightingale sings not so far away.

Oh, and I want to add a little thing too!

When they stand up from the bench, after switching again, I kind of want Phoenix to make a little joke about his own name, kind of like:

"I'm gonna be honest with you, angel, I really felt like I raised from the ashes back there."

"Must you be so foolish all the time?"

"Aw, c'mon, you think it's funny, I can see you holding back!"

"Nonsense, I would never consider funny that ridiculous and foolish joke of yours..."

[Spoilers: He did]

Anyway, I think that's all, at least for now.

Thanks again if you have read all the way down, if you didn't... well, that's understandable, but thank you anyways!

Hope you have a nice day, stranger!

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 6

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Six: Morning Glory

Leila Lannister cursed silently while wrapping a bandage around her husband’s forearm. He found it wise to go hunting, not taking into consideration - his lack of expertise. “The next time you go hunting, bring someone that knows what they’re doing.” she scolded, finishing her job. 

“Otto knows what he was doing, I was a little clumsy - that’s all.” he defended, attempting to move his arm but Leila held it in place. “He’s the clever one of us both, anyways.” Lancel finished, rising to his feet. Leila’s eyes darkened. 

“He’s not clever, Lancel - you’re just dumb.” she insulted. A knock prevents their fight from escalating further. A handmaiden enters the room - bearing the Hand’s sigil. The woman bows and stares at the man. 

“The Hand calls for you, my lord.” the woman informs. 

— 

The man takes a deep breath, reaching the top of the tower. Otto opens the door, making haste with his revelation. “There’s something you need to know. Something that might elevate our power in court.” the younger brother informs and Lancel’s eyes brighten at the thought of being powerful. 

“If it is about your plan in making your daughter Queen -  I couldn’t care less.” Lancel rolls his eyes, quick to reach for the goblet of wine on top of the table. 

“It is about your mortal enemy - Prince Daemon.” Otto reveals, and his brother turns around in intrigue. He’s been working for decades to get rid of Daemon - and now the lock to his vengeance, finally has a key. “What is it?” he was quick to ask, but Otto had a conspiracy of his own. 

Otto takes a step forward, easily manipulating his older brother. “I will tell you under two conditions.” he levied, filling his goblet with red wine. “Anything, if it means getting rid of him.” Lancel rasped, clenching his cup tightly. 

“You will help me in my efforts in making Alicent, Queen - and you will be the one to tell the King about his brother’s misdemeanor.” Otto dealt and his brother nodded his head. Lancel lifted his hand, “Go ahead.” 

“A few nights ago, my informants told me that Prince Daemon was in Flea-Bottom - attempting to bed his niece, Saera. When he failed to do so, he returned the Princess and went back to that rat-hole - where he made an ill-jest about Aemma and Prince Daegon.” Otto informed, his lips were pressed into a thin line. It was a white lie. It was half-true and half-false. 

Prince Daemon did attempt to bed his niece, but he didn’t make that jest about his nephew. Viserys might not send Daemon away after his attempt with Saera, but the King will definitely exile him after the alleged joke. 

Lancel bit back a smile. “What jest?” he questioned, planning to tell the King right away - the staircase be damned. “Heir for a day. He called Prince Daegon an heir for a day.” Otto answered in a rehearsed tone. “But you didn’t hear it from me.” he lowered his head. 

“Of course not, thank you brother.” Lancel smirked, quickly fleeing. 

—

She was staring at her reflection. Trying to ease her mind off the words of the other ladies at court. They were mostly old and about to die - yet they found it in themselves to talk about her beauty. They say that she was beautiful - but her sister was more beautiful - that her personality was dull and unlikable. 

Her hair was a darker shade than Rhaenyra. Her lips were pale and pink. Her cheeks needed a little rouge to stand out. Was she as special as her uncle believed? Or was it an illusion because he loved her? 

Daemon entered her chambers, but she didn’t notice him - not until his arms were wrapped around her shoulders, his lips were pressing kisses on her neck. “Daemon.” her voice came out like a prayer. “Saera,” he replied with the same dedication as the first time he said her name. 

“You left - the ladies were wondering where you fled off to.” he mumbled, pressing more kisses on her neck - down to her collarbone. Her hair was dripping wet - her skin was still cold from the bath. “Shouldn’t they be looking for Rhaenyra? They love her more anyways,” she huffed while placing the Valyrian necklace on her neck. 

“Hey,” he began, squeezing his body - so that they were both sitting on the vanity chair. “I was able to hear what they were talking about - they’re all fucking cunts, my love. They don’t know anything about real beauty,” he comforted, reaching for the hairbrush on the desk. 

He played with her silver tresses, carefully untangling her hair. “Don’t say that - there is no need to compare,” she said to herself, eyes meeting his. His lips turned upwards - finding joy in her kindness. “Of course.” he cooed, hands trailing down to her face - wetting her cheeks with the water from her hair. 

“You are the comeliest maiden in all the seven-kingdoms. The ladies can say what they want - it does not matter. Dragons do not listen to sheep.” he whispered, wrapping his hands around her jaw - pulling her face closer until they were about to kiss. 

Someone clears their throat from behind Saera. 

“Father,” she stood up - staring at him with wide eyes. “Brother,” Daemon acknowledged, finding his place beside his lover. “The accusations are true then?” Viserys inquired, and the air suddenly turned crisp and thick. 

Daemon places a hand in-front of Saera, protecting her from what he perceived as harm. “We love each other, brother.” he defended, tugging her to be placed behind him. “Your grace - that is how you will address me.” Viserys demanded, feeling blood surge through his veins. 

The dragon was awake, protecting his own. 

“We were about to tell you, your grace.” Daemon repeats, not taking his eyes off his brother - nor his hand on his niece’s arm. “Is your need for the throne that wanton? You seduced my daughter and mocked my wife.” Viserys accused, eyes darkening with every second. 

“Mocked? Kepus has done nothing but support us, father. He would never do that to my mother - who he has treated like a sister.” Saera replied, offended by her father’s notions. “Heir for a day, isn’t it? He must’ve found it hilarious - and so did his whores.” Viserys shunned, and a kingsguard entered the chamber. 

Viserys’ eyes darkened at the same time Saera’s faltered. “Whores?” she asked, exchanging a glance with Daemon. Her uncle shook his head - denying his brother’s claims. 

“You do not know Daemon as much as I do. I know that he has promised to wed you - but there are things greater than him.” he explained as one of the guards attempted to walk towards Daemon. 

“Father, what is the meaning of this?” she grimaced, feeling her uncle reach for the Dark Sister.

“Do not give everything to him. He will only discard you, as he’s done to his wife.” Viserys gritted his teeth as more guards entered the room. He walked towards his daughter, pulling him away from Daemon - prompting more guards to overwhelm the Rogue Prince. 

Daemon couldn’t swing his sword - as these were his men. The new recruits of the gold-cloaks. His eyes darkened, seeing a new sigil on their chest. House Strong’s sigil - no more of his gold and white dragon. 

“Saera!” he yelled amidst the chaos, seeing only a wisp of her wet-silver hair.

“I will return.” he promised, as she was hauled out of the room. 

—

In his decades of living, Daemon has never stepped foot inside of the dungeons. They were dirty and nasty, there was a strange foul smell coming from the sewers - and he wasn’t the one to complain about the scent. It was foul, the smell of rotting flesh. 

He’s been kept here for three-days. His clothes were tattered, bruised and wet. He hadn't taken a bath - and he was aware that he smelled like shit. A soldier of the gold-cloaks stumbled upon his cell. “My lord,” the man whispered, trying to avoid the guards that were stationed around the dungeon. 

Daemon turned his head to the source of the noise - but he couldn’t see anything due to the blindfold blocking his eyesight. “Rusca? Is that you?” He did his best to decipher the voice. “Lower your voice, my lord, I’m not supposed to be here.” the man leaned closer, hands gripping the grease-stained bars. 

“I-I heard them talking about a compromise for you. I mean - the king doesn’t plan on making you stay here for long.” the man stuttered, keeping an eye out for roaming guards. “Fuck compromise.” he cursed while turning his body away. Compromise was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t have to answer to a crime that he didn’t commit. 

“There’s another way, but - none of the gold cloaks want you to pursue that.” he mumbled, his grip tightened around the bars - grease coating his hands black and brown. It was a choice that he knew his lord would agree to. It wasn’t a compromise, or a condition - it was a way to get out of King's Landing with his honor and reputation intact. 

“What is it?” Daemon asked, his mind drifting off to Saera. 

Did she believe their lies? Or was she waiting for him? 

“You will fight the war in the Stepstones –” 

“I will do it.” 

“My lord, you will waste your life there. The crabfeeder has taken hold of the island, the King does not plan to send more men. If you fight that war, the chances of your return are slim.” Rusca whispered, not wanting such fate for his liege. The gold cloaks were his creation. All that they did - depended upon him. 

Daemon’s absence would weaken them - and in turn, weaken the kingdom. 

“How is Princess Saera?” he asked, ignoring the man’s question. The answers would come in due time - but not right now. Not when he couldn’t see anything from that fucking blindfold. “She is kept in her chambers. According to Ser Criston, she doesn’t believe the accusations. She is still in mourning, my lord. She is weakened and in need of you. Please, settle on a compromise.” Rusca begged but there was no changing Daemon’s mind. 

“You and Mysaria will protect her while I go to war - tell her that I will return. I will honor my promises. But I cannot do that with the stains of lechery on my hands. Tell her that the accusations are mere accusations. I would never do that to Aemma or Daegon.” he taught, hearing footsteps above him. 

“Leave now. They are coming.” he added, and the man swiftly ran away. 

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