#AND HE ROTATED MY PRONOUNS AFTER I ASKED

[sumamitt]

emotionally i am cat gently stepping into the lap of my new psychiatrist (he's so cool)

[cultofdixon]

Within Your Warmth

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Y/N finally found a place to sleep and Daryl was going to hit anybody that disturbs her • SFW • TW: Sleep Deprivation

Requested by: Anon

“You coming to the bonfire Rick has going on later?” Rosita asks Y/N while she was in the middle of her fifth task of the day, pantry restock.

“Yeah, if I’m not too exhausted”

“Well there will be alcohol. The new dude Greyson found a case of beers on his run the other day with Eugene.” Rosita hopped up on the only stool in the pantry watching her best friend work. “Even Eugene found a good scotch”

“Now that’s what I’m here for” Y/N laughs lightly finishing the canned goods and about to start putting away the new jarred stuff from Oceanside. “Do you know if Daryl is gonna be there?”

Y/N could sense the smirk on her face resulting in a groan as Rosita quickly popped off the stool bringing herself up behind her bestie.

“The Daryl Dixon? The one you’ve been crushing on since longer before I came along?”

“Yes. That Daryl Dixon”

“So…if Daryl were to come then you’d for sure come?”

“I guess—“ and with that Rosita left the pantry, leaving a confused Y/N to continue doing what she was doing before heading onto the next task.

The bonfire was happening at Alexandria. They rotate through the communities every couple days to keep the connection between their families…even if Maggie doesn’t want to step foot in Alexandria as long as he lives. Daryl was currently residing in the Sanctuary after being tasked to keep an eye on the community which felt more like a punishment and only two people understood that. Carol and Y/N. When Rosita left to find him, she half expected him to be inside yelling at someone. Instead he was working on the gardening plots with a green thumb from the Kingdom and a few Saviors that turned for good.

“Dixon” Rosita brought on her tough exterior when talking to the man in hopes that her asks would be given a positive answer. “I have to ask you something”

“If it’s about the bonfire bullshit, I’m going”

“It’s about——“ Rosita paused, relaxing her shoulders. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Rick asked, so did Aaron. You just missed them” Daryl handed the hoe off to one of the Saviors so he could get close to Rosita. “Why are you askin’?”

“It’s more so trying to get another to go tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Y/N said she’d go if you do…so does that confirm the mutual feeling that brews between the two of you?” Rosita smirks trying to get more out of the archer but he continued to have the same deadpan look from before. Her shoulders instantly slumped and the smirk faded. “Alright, loverboy…I’ll see you tonight”

“Mhm” Daryl let out a small chuckle before returning to work while Rosita headed off.

As the night came and the bonfire was starting, Daryl leaned against the picnic table holding all the goodies they brought out scanning around the intimate event in search for Y/N. Who so happened to be the last to arrive even if she lives in the vicinity.

“Where the hell have you been?” Rosita pulled Y/N aside when she was about to make small talk with someone.

“Uh. My watch shift? I just got relieved”

“What the hell?”

“What? I wasn’t gonna halt my work load for the day to doll myself up for a man who’s probably equally as tired as I am”

“Well hate to disappoint but the man is question” Rosita gently took a hold of her chin, directing her to look at Daryl while he was in the middle of a conversation with Gabriel. “Seems to have showered and dressed nicer than usual. I wonder who it’s for”

Y/N can’t deny that Daryl did indeed look extremely well put together. Did everything they used to beg him to do when they first arrived to Alexandria.

“I’m gonna go see how he’s doing” Y/N shot a smile his way which definitely caught his attention, but when she parted from Rosita to make her way over…she got stopped by Ezekiel and couldn’t just cut her friend off.

Daryl felt his small smile falter when she got pulled away not just once, but a handful of times throughout the night. He hasn’t even seen her eat or drink anything. Y/N was very popular that night and everybody wanted to talk to her, he wanted too as well but no window opened.

Until she was sat in one of the outdoor chairs by the fire, Daryl instantly took the empty one beside her and watched her tiredly look at him.

“Sorry was this—-“

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all night…” Y/N sighs, finally relaxing and keeping her attention on him. “I miss you”

The heat instantly made itself present on the tips of his ears as he tried to fight back a smile.

“Missed yea too sunshine”

The two caught up on what the other has missed regarding their community, ending with Y/N talking about how much Rick is an idiot for having Daryl watch the Sanctuary. A few share that same thought but hers had a whole other meaning.

“You staying the night here?”

“Yeah, figured they’d survive a night without me” Daryl scoffs finishing his beer as Y/N curled up slightly in her chair to get more comfortable.

“Well…I still stay at Rick and Michonne’s. No one touched your room if you’d like to stay there”

“I was actually planning on it…”

“Good” Y/N continues to hold her smile that he will always take a mental picture of. Before she could get another word, Rick quickly cut in to ask Daryl himself about any updates for the Sanctuary.

Which lead the exhaustion to finally hit Y/N after a long day.

When his conversation ended by Rick running off to catch up with Ezekiel, Daryl was going to return to his with Y/N but noticed she fell asleep in her chair. So instead of waking her, he sat with her and made sure no one disturbed her.

Daryl shooed away people, even tossed his empty beer bottle at Aaron who tried to start a conversation (thankfully he caught it)…eventually he got up from his spot and carefully picked up Y/N bridal style which led her to stir awake enough to realize what was happening.

“Oh…”

“You’re alright, imma take yea home”

“Okay, long day” Y/N mumbles resting her head against his chest closing her eyes once more.

On the way to the Grimes residence, Rosita and Michonne went up to make sure Y/N was okay but Daryl quickly gave them a look to back off gently. Nothing was wrong. Thankfully they both understood.

“Who woulda thought it took having Y/N do a lot of shit today to have this tonight” Michonne stated, taking a sip of her scotch as Rosita choked on her beer.

“You’re also trying to get them together?”

“Please. I’ve been trying since our prison days. At least she can finally rest easy tonight…it’s been hard for her with Daryl at the Sanctuary”

“I bet…” Rosita continued to watch the two walk off before leaning close to Michonne with a smirk. “What’d yea win in the bet with Carol?”

“Three night shifts for the bridge camp”

“Nice”

Once they got inside the house and upstairs to Y/N’s room, Daryl gently laid her in the bed before grabbing a blanket draping it over her carefully. What he least expected, Y/N gently took his wrist tugging him back to the bed as he caught the hint or so he thought by bringing him low enough for her to wrap his arms around him.

“Lay with me…”

“Are you su—-“

“I’ve missed you so much Daryl, I’m not letting go of you that easily”

The archer didn’t wait another moment and quickly kicked off his shoes before climbing into the bed laying on top of her. Y/N let him adjust to where his head rested comfortably on her chest letting her run her fingers through his hair.

A satisfied sigh left Daryl’s lips holding her as she held him in a way where she wasn’t going to let go easily.

And he’s thankful for that

[dinogoofymutated]

im 100% new to x-men(i grew up in a DC family lol) but I am just. SO down bad for remy. idk how to write requests or anything, but can I ask for headcanons for him with a touchstarved fem reader? sfw or nsfw, both, idc really he's just rotating in my brain, gambit my beloved

Gambit/GN!reader

Dude I completely get it!! I was a HUGE x-men fan as a kid and as I grew up the hyperfixation fell into the back of my mind. I too grew up mostly on DC and I feel like the reason DC became my go-to was because there's just not a ton of fanfiction for the x-men, reader inserts in particular. I'm working on fixing that! But my full-length fics are a little hard to finish/start. Anyway- Remy is definitely one of the top #3 x-men to be down bad for lol!

TWs: none that I can think of atm. Mostly fluffy goodness! Written picturing a fem! Reader but no pronouns mentioned

I definitely think that it's not a completely ridiculous idea that one of Remy's love languages could be touch, despite how his relationship with Rogue revolves around the absence of touch!

Tbh, I feel like he's just respectful of his partner's wants and needs in a relationship, and if touching and cuddling is a no-go he's perfectly fine with backing off and showing his love in other ways!

BUT! when you give him the go-ahead, he's all over you. Hugs, cuddles, kisses, PDA, all of it!

One of his favorite things to do is catch you in the kitchen, coming up behind you and snaking his hands around your waist. He'll press his face into your hair and neck, sometimes giving you kisses, but really he just does it because he wants to feel you against him.

I think he secretly enjoys how easy it is to get you melting in his embrace. He goes out of his way to fluster you, flirting until you go red, then pulls you close. He'll nuzzle you affectionately, kiss your temple and cheeks, hold you lovingly until he feels all the tension leave your body. He especially likes when you lean into his hands when he holds your face. He knows just how much you love him, and he's determined to show you all the love he knows you deserve.

    “Cher.” Remy’s chest rumbles with the words. You only respond with a hum, tucked into his side comfortably. The afternoon had started with a movie, originally. The two of you had some free time, and Gambit had a movie he really wanted to watch, so movie night it was. You were watching at first, you promise you were, but it was easy to get distracted by Remy. When the movie started, you were sitting next to him, leaning into his side with a bowl of popcorn in your lap, but that position could only be comfortable for so long. You were squirming, trying to relax as best you could, but after 45 minutes of sitting on this couch, it was like every bump and corner on the sofa was digging into you.

    Remy, being the observant sweetheart he is, didn’t hesitate to scoop you up into his lap. You squealed at first, surprised by the action, but Remy simply laughed at you, leaning back to lay down on the couch with you against his chest. Unsurprisingly, this was much more comfortable. Maybe a little too comfortable, as it didn’t take long for you to stop paying attention to the TV entirely. You snuggled closer to Remy as you started to doze off. One of his hands rested against your lower back, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, caressing and threading his fingers through his hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep against him.

    “Cheerrr.” Remy says again, drawing the words out. “Movie’s been over f’ a while.” You pout at him, sighing sleepily as you tuck your face into his neck. He chuckles again, thumbs caressing your skin idly.

    “You don’t wanna cuddle anymore?” You ask, maybe a little bit more sad than you should be, or would’ve been if you were more awake.

    “Now Gambit didn’t say that.” Remy purrs. You whine again as he moves a little, adjusting a little so that he can press a kiss to your temple. You reluctantly untuck yourself from his neck, rewarded with a sweet kiss from Remy. The action makes you smile. He’s looking at you with such love and adoration, like no one has looked at you before, and it has you feeling loved beyond measure. You lean into his touch as he cups your face, holding his hand to your cheek to keep him there.

    Content couldn’t begin to explain how you felt in this moment.

[dirtyvulture]

Peeping Jeff

Natasha Romanoff x Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You and Natasha have some fun when an uninvited guest stops by.

Word count: 2095

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

No land sharks were harmed in the writing of this fic.

“Eyes on me,” Natasha says.

“Yes, ma’am,” you say, as if you’ll dare disobey her. Not when she’s dressed in the thinnest pair of black lingerie she owns and is currently rotating slowly around the stripper pole she had installed in the bedroom almost a month ago. It was probably the best investment the two of you ever made, and even Tony had to comment on its usefulness when he brought the contractors in.

You settle back in the bed, ready for your private show. You’re only wearing your boxers now and the bulge between your legs continues to tent as Natasha scales up the pole almost to the ceiling. She wraps her legs around it, wedging it in the crook of her knee to hold her weight while she lets go with her arms, leaning back until her hair cascades in a fiery red wave. 

“Don’t touch yourself,” Natasha warns when she sees your hand moving towards your own crotch. You can’t always help yourself; seeing your girlfriend like this demands an attention that she is too far away to provide. You sigh in frustration, but force your hands back to your sides.

Natasha slides down the pole a few feet, tilting back until her head is lower than the rest of her body. Your eyes focus on her perfect breasts ready to spill out of their delicate cage and how perfectly they press together when she moves. 

She suddenly releases her hold on the pole with her legs and she drops to the floor.

“Nat!” you cry, almost jumping off the bed until you see that she’s stopped herself just in time, now hovering inches off the floor. 

“I’m fine,” she snips, almost like she’s upset you thought she had so little strength and would hurt herself.

“Okay, okay.”

As Natasha continues her performance, neither of you notice that it’s now become a public showing when two dark beady eyes look through the crack of the bedroom door that you’ve accidentally left slightly ajar. The eyes widen when they see Natasha and the silver, shiny pole. But after a few moments, they are distracted by the rumbling in their belly and continue padding down the hall to the kitchen. 

By the time Natasha is off the pole and sauntering over to you, you’ve given up all restraint and are jerking yourself off in your boxers, stopping only when she climbs on top of you and grinds down on your crotch.

“Did you like my show?” Natasha asks, but it’s a pointless question.

“I loved it, baby,” you pant, tilting your head up desperately for a kiss. You don’t even notice she’s pulled your boxers off and her own panties until you suddenly feel her wetness brush against your cock. “Oh fuck, Nat.”

She sinks down without warning, enveloping you in perfect, silky heat. You buck up instinctively, trying to fit your entire length into her, the ache of arousal in the pit of your stomach slightly soothed as she surrounds you. 

Natasha locks her hands around your neck to steady yourself as you thrust into her. You press your face into her chest, inhaling the scent of her skin and wrapping your arms around her back to keep her close to you.

“Right there, baby,” she moans as you jack your hips up until they slap against hers. “Keep going, keep going.”

“You’re always so tight around me,” you grunt, twitching at the sound of your slick cock sliding in and out of her. “You’re so perfect, Nat. Every part of you.”

She hums in agreement, bouncing on your cock and causing the whole bed frame to shake. 

You hadn’t realized how turned on Natasha was over her own performance until her walls clamp around you, almost preventing you from pulling out, and her wetness dripping down your cock. You thrust up in one final, rough move, emptying yourself into her, your hips raised off the bed until your thighs are trembling from the effort before you collapse back down and Natasha rests on top of you. 

The two of you stay like that for a long time, until your alarm goes off, alerting you that you have to get ready for the next event.

***********************************************************************

“I swear, we go to one of these a week,” Natasha says, snagging a martini from one of the passing waiters. She clinks it against your cocktail glass and the both of you take a sip in solidarity.

“You know Tony. Any excuse he has to party, he’ll put one on,” you respond, turning with her to face the crowd of people swaying on the dance floor. You swear you’ve never seen the same person twice at these parties and sometimes wonder if Tony just puts up a flier on the Internet advertising there’s a party at the Avengers Tower. It would explain the amount of times you’ve been asked to take pictures or sign autographs. 

“You tired?” you ask Natasha as she sighs and leans against your arm. 

“Not any more than usual.” You know she’s not a fan of these gatherings any more than you are.

“We can go soon,” you offer.

“It’s okay,” she says.

The two of you sit at the bar and try to avoid any other interactions. You bob your head absently to the beat of the music as Natasha drinks another martini. Bruce comes over, trying to strike up a conversation with Natasha as you glare at him with your arm looped firmly around her waist. 

“Tony said he had a surprise for tonight,” Bruce says. 

“Is it going to happen anytime soon? It’s almost our bed time,” Natasha yawns.

As if on cue, the music suddenly stops and the lights flash on to their full power. The crowd on the dance floor murmurs their annoyance as Tony appears on the DJ’s stage.

“Thank you to everyone who came out tonight!” he says. “I know I host a lot of these, and I’m always trying new things to keep them interesting. Behold, my latest addition to the Stark party experience!”

Tony holds his hands up, and the spotlights direct to a panel on the ceiling that slides back. Something silver and shiny pokes down, slowly revealing itself to be a singular, metal pole. It takes a second for it to click what it is. 

“Oh God,” Natasha says, shaking her head.

“Is that a stripper pole?” Bruce asks.

“Yep,” you answer. “I wonder if he got the idea from the one we had installed in our room–”

Bruce turns on you incredulously. “Wait, you have a–”

“Who wants to give it a try?” Tony asks as the lights dim, all focus on the shiny silver pole now. No one in the crowd moves at first. 

“I will give it a go!” a deep voice booms and Thor comes forward as people begin cheering and clapping for him.

“Oh, this will be good,” Natasha comments. You move closer to get a better view of your co-worker as he steps up to the pole, sizing it up for a few seconds before grabbing onto it firmly. Women start cheering as Thor hesitantly swings himself around the pole, as if he doesn’t trust such a flimsy object to support him, but with the encouragement of the crowd, he gains some confidence and starts to dance as if the pole is his partner.

“Only Tony could come up with something like this,” you say, impressed at how flexible the god of thunder is.  

“This is definitely going online,” Bruce notes, counting the number of cellphones people have out to capture the moment.

“You want to give it a try, Nat?” you tease.

“Nope. Because that’s a show for you only,” she says, pressing against you to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“All right, all right, give it up for the god of thunder!” Tony says, gesturing for Thor to leave center stage as the crowd of women swarm him from your view. “Who’s up next?” His eyes sweep across the room, searching for another victim. You accidentally make eye contact with him and your heart drops as he points to you. “Come on over, Y/N–” 

“Mrrrr.” 

You pause mid-step as everyone hears the same noise echo in the room. It’s one you’re more than familiar with, but you aren’t quite sure it’s the right one you’ve heard until you see Jeff the land shark, in his one-foot tall glory, waddling towards center stage.

Murmurs carry around as the little shark approaches the silver pole and gives it a few sniffs.

“Is that Jeff?”

“What is he doing here?”

“Is he even old enough to be here?”

“Mrrrr!” he huffs indignantly at that last comment. When you pause to think about it, you aren’t really sure what Jeff’s age is. While he is a great deal smaller than his terrifying, fully-grown counterparts, rumor had it that Jeff aged just the same but simply did not outgrow his smaller form. So for all you knew, he was perfectly of age to be at a Tony Stark party.

“Give it up for Jeff the land shark!” Tony exclaims, increasing the volume of the music. 

“Go, Jeff!” you shout and Natasha smacks your shoulder. “Ow, what was that for?”

“Do not encourage him! He’s just a baby and probably shouldn’t even be here–”

“We don’t know that for sure,” you defend.  

“Watch him be better than Thor,” Bruce says.

Jeff stands on his hind legs to inspect the pole; you wonder if he has the grip strength to lift himself up. Natasha had lectured you on the difficulties of her new hobby, even offering you the opportunity to try it yourself, and while you were plenty strong, you had no flexibility or grace, thus resulting in a less-than-stellar show for her. 

However, Jeff is already showing you up as he clutches onto the pole tightly with his fingers, pushing off the ground with his back feet and using his momentum to swing around the pole with his round body.

People scream and cheer at his first attempt. He steadies himself, carefully inching up the pole until he is at a height where everyone in the room could see him. He tilts his head back as he spins around the pole again, almost like he’s in slow-motion. You had no idea a land shark could be this graceful or fluid. 

Everyone is entranced by his performance, as Jeff flaps his tail to propel himself faster around the pole. He dips back until he’s almost upside-down, before he lessens his grip on the pole just enough to come sliding down at a speed that drops your heart, but he stops before his head touches the floor. 

The applause is raucous.  

“Isn’t that what I did last night?” Natasha says suddenly, but you’re too enthralled to respond. 

“He’s better than you, Nat,” you tease with a nudge. Jeff climbs up the pole again, then clamps his jaws around it, swinging his round body out in a move you can only describe as being the land shark version of a human flag–one of the most difficult calisthenic exercises you’ve ever tried to learn. But whereas it took you months of intensive training to achieve a human flag for even 5 seconds, Jeff seems to have flawless core strength as he holds his body out, perfectly perpendicular to the floor. 

“YEAH, JEFF!” you scream, scaring Natasha. You’re probably one of the few people here who truly understand the difficulties of the exercise, and you want to make sure Jeff’s feat is appropriately appreciated.  

Jeff takes the pole in his hands again, twirling around it while pausing in several positions with his legs split or kicked out. He mimes walking on air for a few seconds during his descent and if the crowd hadn’t been loud already, you’re pretty sure they’re going to shatter the windows. Jeff lands safely on the floor, bounding up and bowing as people take pictures and continue to cheer. 

“I wonder where he learned how to do that,” Bruce says, clapping his hands.

“Yes,” Natasha agrees, a strange realization dawning on her but she’s too embarrassed to say it out loud. She will have to make sure the bedroom door is properly closed and locked from now on. “I wonder…”  

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

AN: Special thanks to @nameforthemain for this beautiful sketch that inspired this fic!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[puck-luck]

just visiting | trevor zegras

warnings: one (1!) use of "y/n", semi-public sex, hair pulling, unprotected p on v sex (& creampie), fingering, use of pet names (baby <3), praise, slightly? dom!trevor, cussing (<3), light spanking, uhhh eating come i guess? underuse of the name Trevor and overuse of the pronoun "he" as i am known to do in my writing. pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary: the one when reader meets trevor zegras in a bar and has a satisfying one night stand with him in the bathroom <3 wc: 2,554

You’d been dancing with a rotating door of men all night, but your eyes had stayed fixed on one man. He’s sitting at the end of the bar opposite of the dancing floor. In the time since you’d caught his eye, you’d seen him down two beers. He drank them so slow, so lazily that you thought he might’ve been doing it just so you could see the way his lips wrapped around the bottle. He’d come with friends, but they’d all left him a while ago. At this point, it’s well past 2am and you were still waiting for him to get the balls to come over to you. The men who danced with you all thought they had a chance, but you knew and this man at the bar knew that at the end of the night, it would be you two, in a bed, all over each others’ bodies.

The man behind you now is certainly feeling the effects of your rolling hips. His attraction to you is pressing against the small of your back and his hands clutch at your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress. The hem of the dress, a sexy little red number that you only wear when you want to pull someone, is riding up more than you are wholly comfortable with, but the exposed skin has drawn the eye of the man at the bar. In the low light, you can’t tell what color they are, but you know that they’re shining with a challenge. He likes what he sees, but here he is, waiting for the chase. You pointedly roll your eyes at him and turn around to face the guy you’re already with. You’ll make do with what you already have. The guy at the bar isn’t going anywhere.

The guy you’re dancing with is cute, but not turn-your-head cute. He’s got some height on you, just enough that you have to lean up on your tiptoes to rest your arms on his shoulders. He’s got a five o’clock shadow of a beard that rubs nicely against your jaw when he leans down to whisper an invitation back to his place in your ear, but before you can answer, two new hands round your waist and pull you away from him.

“Sorry, but she’s already spoken for,” says the voice from behind you. You glance behind you to find the man from the bar, and you have to choke back a grin. 

The man you were dancing with looks confused for a second, but drops the issue with a raise of his hands. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know.” He walks off, probably in search of a new target for the night. There are only so many people left, considering the bar closes at 4 and it’s nearly 3.

“Finally,” you sigh, reaching up to lace your fingers in the man’s hair. He makes it easier for you, coming down to give the curve of your neck a ghost of a kiss. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry,” he repeats, but it sounds like he’s got a smile on his lips. “Wasn’t sure if you were ready for me.”

“Been ready for you.” You turn towards him and take his hand, guiding it down between your legs so he can steal a touch. You pull it back after just one pass and he groans. 

He leans into your space and captures your lips with his. His tongue traces your bottom lip after only a moment and you open, letting him in. He invades your mouth with his tongue and it’s hot, and passionate, and says everything that you need to know better than he could have put it into words. You break apart and he presses his hips into yours, sneaking one of his hands up to graze over the swell of your breasts. “Bathroom?” He asks.

“Not your place?” You reply.

“I’m visiting,” he says. “And I’m sharing a hotel room with someone.”

You hum, thinking about your options. He’s hot and you’ve been playing this game all night, waiting for this moment. Any of the other guys would have sufficed, but you knew from the first moment you locked eyes with this guy that he would make this a night to remember. Your place wasn’t far, but you tried not to go back to your apartment with strange men, especially since you live alone and your apartment building isn’t the securest– something you learned from an experience with the last guy you brought home… who couldn’t quite understand that it was a one-and-done thing. If this guy wasn’t willing to take you back to his hotel room and kick his roommate out, the bathroom might just be your only option.

“Bathroom works,” you agree and take his hand. You lead him through the crowd of people. You reach the bathroom and knock on the door of the single-stall one, hoping that there’s no one in it. When you don’t hear anything, you test the handle, and it swings open easily. You let out the breath you were holding and smile to yourself, dragging this guy in behind you. He turns you so your back is against the door and traps you there, reaching around to press the lock. He leans down and kisses you again, licking into your mouth right off the bat.

“I’m Trevor,” he says between kisses. 

“Cute,” you reply, sounding a little breathless already. “I’m Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you.” His hands find their way to the back of your thighs and he lifts you up. You let out an embarrassing squeal out of surprise and automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He chuckles against your lips at your reaction. Still kissing you, he carries you over to the sink and sets you down. Trevor’s deft fingers trace their way to your pussy from your thighs and rub you deliciously.

You let out a breathy moan as he applies just the right amount of pressure to your clit with his thumb before taking it away. He rubs his knuckle up and down your panty-covered folds. “So wet already?” He teases, sounding proud of himself. “All we did was kiss a little.” 

You slide your fingers through his hair and grab on, pulling him back in so your lips reconnect. “I bet you’re no better,” you reply. You mirror his actions, reaching your hand down to feel him. He’s hard, just like you expected, but you didn’t expect him to feel so big. You make a content noise as you continue to palm him through his pants, imagining him inside you.

“Found something you like?” He asks, rolling his hips into your hand as he moves your panties to the side and swipes a finger through your wetness. “I did.” He brings the finger up to his mouth and sucks your juices off of it. “Hmm. Sweet.”

You sigh at his comment and your hands fumble with the zipper on his jeans. He reaches down to help you out, sliding the zipper down himself after batting your hands away. He pushes his pants and boxers down just enough to reveal himself to you. “Trevor,” you breathe out when you catch sight of his cock. It’s pretty and hard and it’s positively leaking. You want to put your mouth on it and go to hop down from the sink, but Trevor stops you.

“Wanna get my fingers in you first, baby,” he says. He delicately slides your panties down your legs and kisses your cheek sweetly before taking them all the way off. He stuffs them in his back pocket and gives you a wink before sliding one of his long fingers inside you. He pumps the digit in and out of you slowly, relishing in the way your walls suck him in and clench around him. 

Your fingers clutch at the bicep that’s holding you in place and moan as his finger speeds up. He adds another, curling them in a way that makes you crave him even more. You grind down on his hand, chasing the orgasm that’s building inside of you. When he starts to press sloppy kisses on your neck, it’s over. He’s leaving a hickey on your pulse point when you clench down on him and drop your head back, seeing stars with every continued curl and pump of his fingers.

“That’s it,” he soothes. “Good girl. Look so pretty coming for me, baby. Want to see it again.” 

He guides you down so your feet are touching the ground and turns you, bending you over the sink. You can see him in the mirror, brown hair messy from when you were running your fingers through it. You drink him in– the flush on his cheeks, the concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub the tip of his cock over your folds. You clench down on nothing and you smile to yourself as his pupils dilate. His eyes flicker up and meet yours in the mirror. You give him a shit-eating smile and he returns it after thrusting inside you. Your mouth drops open and his smile broadens, although you don’t get the chance to see it, considering your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you adjust to his length.

“Oh my God,” you moan as he fucks into you, rolling his hips slowly just to tease you. You begin to push back against him, trying to meet his hips so his tip reaches that point inside you. His hand reaches up and makes a ponytail out of your hair, pulling it harshly. “Oh my God,” you repeat.

“Stop trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” Trevor admonishes. “Let me do the work, pretty girl. Let me make you feel good.” He lets go of your hair and his hand slides down to hold onto your hip, his other hand resting there already. He speeds up, bucking his hips into you hard and fast, making you shift forward with every thrust. If you thought about it too long, you’d feel the dull pain of the counter pressing against your skin, but right now, all you can focus on is the pleasure of his cock meeting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Trevor,” you whine, dropping your head and reaching down to try and get a hand on your clit. “Please,” you beg, needing just a bit more. 

He raises a hand and spanks you hard enough to leave a pink handprint. He steps back and pulls you with him, so you can reach a hand between your legs and rub furious circles on your swollen bud. Trevor soothes the handprint on your ass with a rub before bringing it down again just to watch the way your ass jiggles. His hips jump when you clench down on him after the impact and Trevor suddenly realizes just how close he is to coming.

“Fuck,” he hisses, bending over and plastering his chest against your back. He reaches around you with both hands, his right battering your hand away to rub your clit for you and his left coming up to your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The added stimulation sends shivers up your spine and you can’t help the noises that spill out of you.

“Close, baby?” Trevor asks, eyes boring into yours in the mirror.

“So close,” you reply. “Please, Trevor.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging for, what more he could even do for you since his cock is thrusting inside you and hitting all the right spots and his hands feel like they’re everywhere all at once. 

Trevor moans in your ear, thrusting somehow harder into you. “Been thinking about you like this all night,” he groans, then presses a kiss to your shoulderblade. “Show me again how gorgeous you look when you come, baby?”

Maybe it’s the tilt of his head and the way his eyes soften as they meet yours in the mirror, or maybe it’s the way he sounds like he’s pleading with you, like it’s a privilege to see you come undone on his cock. Maybe it’s the fact that you can feel him pulsing inside of you, his thrusts becoming more and more stuttered as he gets closer, but holds off because he wants you to reach that point first. 

No matter the reason, within a split second of Trevor asking you to show him what you look like when you come, your legs begin to shake and you can’t even manage to keep your head up as you let go. Trevor grabs your hair and lifts your head again, and you clench down on him as your vision goes white and your climax overcomes you. 

You hear a strangled moan behind you and feel him let go, painting your walls white as he releases inside you and continues to fuck you through your release. You’re breathless and when your vision returns, you think he’s beautiful behind you, eyes closed and mouth open. Your heart clenches at the sight and you wonder if, in another life, you’d have him like this every night.

“Fuck,” he whispers into the silence after you both have come down from your orgasms. 

“Yeah,” you reply, and you almost frown at the loss when he pulls out of you. You jump when he swipes a finger over your folds and collects some of the fluid that’s leaking out of you.

Trevor turns you around and brings his wet fingers to your lips, staring into your eyes with a silent question. You open your mouth as an answer and suck the come off his fingers, a mixture of both of your pleasure that almost makes you want him again. 

His mouth parts slightly as he stares at your lips around his fingers. He’s lost in the moment as you swirl your tongue around his digits, the same way you would if it were his cock. “You’re so hot,” he mumbles, sounding almost disappointed. “But you know that I’m–”

“Just visiting,” you interrupt, letting his fingers fall from your mouth. You give him a soft smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I know.”

“You were amazing,” he tells you. “Just…” he trails off, then sighs. “Amazing.”

“You weren’t too bad yourself, hotshot,” you reply, leaning up to give him a brief peck on the lips. His hands find their way around your waist and his lips follow yours when you pull away. “But you wouldn’t want to worry your roommate in the hotel, would you? Out so late, they might be scared that you got lost or…”

Trevor lets out a little huff of laughter and bites your lip playfully. “I don’t think he missed me.” He pulls back. 

You pull your dress down so you’re completely covered again. “Well, Trevor, if you’re ever back in town,” you offer, knowing that it’s probably never going to happen again and that this was a spur of the moment thing. “I’ll be here.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss you one more time. You turn around to fix your hair in the mirror, watching him as he retreats, opening the bathroom door and exiting through it. You’ll probably never see him again, but hey, a girl can always hope.

notes: happy first "posted on tumblr & shared in a way that will impact my digital footprint"! this fic comes at the encouragement of my friend hannah (@johncena2020) & trevor was chosen by the one and only wheelofnames.com. let me know your thoughts/comments/concerns/quibbles/questions & reach out if you want!! i'm looking to write as much as i can to get over the bit of writer's block i have had since, like, forever... and smut seems like the perfect way to do it since i'm a huge consumer of the nhl smut genre. xoxoxoxo hugs and kisses always, andy girl <3

[cameronspecial]

Kiss Cam

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.3K

Summary: Jonas Brothers' concerts are the best places for kisses.

A/N: Idea given by @mellillasstuff.

Masterlist

Drew got Y/N tickets to the Jonas Brothers’ tour because he knows how much he loves their music. Plus, after he saw posts about the tour on Instagram, he knew he had to take her there as an opportunity to get some smooches. He even made a small poster for the special moment; it couldn’t be big because it would raise suspicion from his girl. “While we play this next set, I think it is going to be the perfect opportunity to get out the kiss cam. So now is the time to get out your posters to let us know if you want to be on it,” Kevin informs into the microphone. Y/N sighs a little in disappointment. She would’ve loved to do this with Drew, but he likes to keep their relationship private because of his celebrity status, so she didn’t ask him if they could. She didn’t want him to feel bad if he said no. The loss of his warm arms around her waist causes her to turn back toward him. She doesn’t understand why he is reaching inside his jacket for something and it is even more confusing when a folded-up paper is pulled out. His eyes flicker to her and he grins at her waiting gaze. 

He turns the paper to face her and tears brim in her eyes as she reads it. My Girl Gives The Best Kisses. Please Give Us The Excuse. She has to giggle a little at the way the words get smaller in size because he runs out of space. She wraps her arms around his waist, “Thank you.” He raises the sign over the crowd thanks to his tall height, “No problem.” With the sign in the air, she rotates toward the screen and prays that they get chosen. The universe seems to be listening to her because the camera points in their direction. She screams in excitement at the victory and throws herself into her boyfriend’s arms. He stumbles a little bit backwards in surprise, capturing her lips in his. Their mouths move against each other and they keep going even though they know that the camera is no longer on them. Because when else would they get to have such a personal moment in a sea of people with the Jonas Brothers playing I Believe in the background?

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @victory-in-the-llama @starkowswife @drewsmusee

[starrylothcat]

If you’re still taking prompts, I’d love to see 12.) “Just lay back and let me take care of you” with Wolffe and an independent female reader who does things on her own and struggles to be vulnerable. I know that’s a lot, so please disregard if it’s too much :)

Look After You

Summary: The burdens of being a war medic are weighing you down, but Wolffe is here to comfort you.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader. No pronouns used.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. PiV sex, cunnilingus, feelings of self-doubt / being overwhelmed / compassion fatigue. Mention of death. A lil’ angsty. Soft Wolffe. Established relationship.

Word Count: 2900

A/N: Ohh thank you for the ask, and it’s def not too much! This became a little personal to me, as compassion fatigue is a large issue in my field of work and something I have experience with. It was the first idea I had for this prompt, so sorry if it’s kind of angsty, haha. I hope this is kind of what you had in mind. I hope you enjoy~

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: I will know you forever.

Ner ca’tra: My night sky

Wolffe let out a long sigh as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching you pour over reports that were splayed across your desk. Wolffe had been standing in your personal quarters for a few minutes now, and you hadn’t noticed.

“It’s time for a break.”

You mumbled something incomprehensible in return, continuing to shuffle through the piles of flimsiplast reports, not paying attention to Wolffe whatsoever.

Your elbow was on your desk, your palm keeping your head up as your tired eyes flicked back and forth between documents.

Wolffe could tell you were stressed, and you have been for the last couple of rotations. You were returning from a difficult campaign on an outer rim planet, and though it was a victory, heavy losses had been sustained. Morale was low on the ship, as it was whenever they returned to Coruscant with less men than they started with.

It hit you especially hard, being a medic for the 104th. You weren’t immune to stress or grief, but you worked efficiently under pressure, not letting your emotions compromise your top-tier medical care when it was needed most.

That’s why Wolffe fell for you in the first place - your endless compassion and sense of duty. Wolffe has watched you save the lives of his brothers, doing everything in your power to give them the chance to fight another day.

Sometimes you worked too hard, Wolffe needing to remind you to rest. You knew you struggled with it, but the thought of being idle meant lives could be at stake.

The war was not stopping, and if you stopped, what were you left with?

These thoughts were troubling you more and more, especially after this mission.

Death was part of the job, you knew that and have fully accepted it. But each death was starting to weigh heavier on your soul, wondering if you could have done more to save them.

You were beginning to doubt your skills, a heaviness on your chest that wouldn’t quite go away.

You wanted to tell Wolffe, but didn’t want to worry him.

He had enough on his plate and didn’t need to be reminded of the losses. At least that’s what you told yourself. You knew Wolffe would want to listen, but you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it.

The only thing you could do was work, and hope that was enough of a distraction until you got back to Coruscant.

Wolffe cleared his throat, trying to get your attention again, but to no avail.

Wolffe knew something deep was troubling you, he’s noticed your change in behavior the last few rotations.

You've barely left your quarters on the Republic light cruiser you were currently stationed on, and your usual organized space was a mess. Half-filled cups of old caf were precariously pushed to the end of your desk, your bed was unmade, and plates from the mess hall stacked on the floor by your door.

Wolffe wished you would give him the chance to help you, or at least admit something was bothering you.

You were so caught up in making sure other’s needs were met, you often forgot about yourself.

Wolffe rolled his eye, having an idea of what was going on. He strode behind you, placing his gloved hands on your hunched shoulders.

You didn’t even flinch, murmuring to yourself and typing at hyperspace speeds on your datapad.

Wolffe gently squeezed and felt your tense muscles instantly relax under his fingertips.

Wolffe lowered his head toward yours, lips brushing against your temple.

“Can you take a break…for me?” He whispered, digging more into your shoulders, eliciting a small groan from you.

Finally, you broke free from your work, turning toward him, snapping out of your concentration.

“Wolffe, I have a lot to do…”

Wolffe grunted in response.

“So do I.”

You couldn’t help the small, pleasured exhale that left your lips as Wolffe continued to release the tension out of your stiff muscles, planting kisses down your neck.

“You need to rest. It’s an order from your Commander.”

You turned to him, and though his tone was stern his eyes held something deep, a glint of tenderness only reserved for you.

You let out a breath, pushing yourself away from your desk.

You stood up, stretching your aching back, feeling bad for ignoring him. You hadn’t even noticed he entered your room, thinking he was going to be busy with his own reports and meetings the rest of the night.

Wolffe wrapped himself around you, holding you close as he gently placed his finger and thumb under your chin, tilting your head up toward him.

“Ner ca’tra…”Wolffe touched his forehead against yours as you melted against him, only calling you that special name when you were truly alone and speaking heart to heart. “What’s on your mind?”

You were silent, biting your lip that was threatening to quiver.

Wolffe had noticed your odd behavior, and knew you couldn’t keep it from him forever.

“It’s just my reports…” You mumbled, not finding the courage to admit what you were really thinking.

Wolffe grunted as you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. He wasn’t wearing the top half of his armor, so his body heat radiated onto you, a comforting feeling.

Wolffe sighed. “I know that’s not what’s bothering you. You can talk to me. If you’re not ready, I understand. But I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Wolffe felt you tremble against him as you gripped the front of his blacks.

You wanted to tell him how tired you were, how burnt out you felt, how you were doubting your skills as a medic and every soldier that died under you care was a failure on your part.

You couldn’t speak, a small sob leaving your lips as you pressed yourself into Wolffe’s chest, gripping the front of his blacks harder.

The hidden emotion was threatening to spill out, the nagging thoughts you usually tried to keep at bay, tucked deep down where it couldn’t affect your work.

Wolffe stayed silent, rubbing your back as you let out another sob, falling apart in his arms. Though Wollfe wasn’t speaking, his silence was loud and clear.

Tell me, it’s okay.

“I…I’m just…tired. Tired of the fighting. Tired of death. Tired of seeing good men die for no reason.” Your words were muffled as you wept, fully crying into his chest. Wolffe rested his chin on your head, still quietly rubbing your back. “I…don’t feel like I’m doing enough. No matter how many lives I save, it doesn’t matter…”

Your voice trailed off, trying to catch your breath as more sobs waited in your throat, hot tears spilling down your cheeks and soaking the front of his blacks.

“I didn’t want to add to your burdens, you’ve already lost so much -

“Never think of your burdens as less than mine.” Wolffe cut you off, speaking finally. He pulled you from his chest, his thumb tracing beneath your now puffy eye, wiping away the tears.

“How many times have you helped me through my weakest moments?”

You had soothed Wolffe through many periods of grief, times where he was so angry, so devestated, he couldn’t speak, only quietly weep in your arms as you held him, just as he was holding you now.

Wolffe was eyeing you intensely, his brows furrowed.

“You’re always helping others. It’s okay to let others help you. You’re worthy of that, ner ca’tra.”

The stoic and battle-hardened Commander then kissed you so tenderly and held you so reverently, you couldn't stop the tears from welling in your eyes once again.

“I am always here for you. You know that.”

You nodded, leaning into his large, warm hand.

“I know, Wolffe. I’m…sorry I kept it from you.”

Wolffe traced his thumb over your lips. “You never need to apologize, not for this.”

Wolffe kissed you again, this time more passionately, his tongue tracing over your lower lip as you released his blacks and brought your arms around his solid neck.

You opened your mouth fully for his tongue to caress your own, both of you emitting a small groan as your mouths danced.

“You always take such good care of me…” Wolffe rumbled against you, desire now bubbling in his good eye, his hands ghosting at the hem of your tunic.

“Just lay back and let me take care of you. Is that okay?”

Wolffe kissed your neck, lightly grazing his canines on your skin. His gloved hands now fully under your tunic, delicately roaming up your torso.

“Yes.”

Wolffe wasted no time walking you backward to your bed. Your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and Wolffe laid you down onto the plush blankets.

Wolffe’s tight blacks highlighted his wide chest and rippling muscle underneath, his biceps flexing as he quickly removed his lower armor.

To anyone else, he would look immensely intimidating as he peered down at you, his cybernetic eye almost glowing as he drank in your form. Though his expression was as serious as a lothwolf, you caught that tender look again as he climbed on top of you. That look that said I’m here, I’m yours.

Wolffe made quick work of removing your tunic and breast band, kissing down your chest, leaving small marks to remind you of him later.

“Relax.” He mumbled into your skin, still feeling how tense you were. “I have you.”

Wolffe’s lips trailed up the side of your breast and he took one of your nipples in his mouth. He gently sucked and rolled your sensitive bud on his tongue, feeling it harden under his careful ministrations.

You whined, breathing out his name, letting him take full control over you.

Wolffe released your nipple with a pop and looked up at you, his singular eye once again filled with such gentleness you blinked back tears.

You moaned softly as Wolffe took your other breast in his mouth, giving it the same lavish attention as the other, alternating between using his teeth and tongue, gently sucking and pulling at the sensitive flesh.

Wolffe could hear your labored breathing quicken as he worked your nipple, one of your hands grasping his cropped hair, warmth spreading between your legs.

Once Wolffe decided both of your breasts received proper treatment, he continued kissing down your stomach, moving down your body as he did so. Wolffe slipped off the bed, kneeling as he carefully pulled your body to the edge of the mattress.

He didn't say anything as he removed your pants and underwear, taking off his gloves and stroking a finger through your slick pussy. You keened and whimpered his name as Wolffe kneaded and massaged your thighs, staring at you intently.

“You've saved the lives of my brothers, and mine, more times than I can count. Never doubt your abilities, cyare.” Wolffe murmured, still caressing your thighs.

“I know it feels like it’s never enough. Wolffe kissed your inner leg, tracing his tongue over the sensitive flesh. “But it is. I promise.”

Your heart swelled at his words, breathy gasps escaping your lips as he gently probed your pussy with his tongue, focused on licking and exploring, knowing exactly what you needed.

“Wolffe…oh…Wolffe…” He slowly licked a stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit, applying perfect pressure as a thick finger slipped into you.

You grasped the bedsheets and bucked your hips as he lazily fucked you with his finger, pressing to the top of your walls to maximize your pleasure.

He increased his pace as he focused his mouth on your soft labia and clit, bringing you to an explosive first orgasm that shook your body, causing more tears to stream down your face.

Wolffe worked you through it, kissing your inner legs again, leaving a warm trail of kisses back up your torso to wipe the tears away before going back down between your legs.

Wolffe continued to take his time warming you up with his fingers and mouth, bringing you to release too many times to count.

Every inch of your body was claimed by him, worshiped by him, your heart ready to burst with every touch.

Your lovemaking was usually intense, not knowing if it was the last time you had together before being apart on missions, but tonight was different.

Wolffe was touching you as if it was your first time, re-learning your curves and dips, slowly drawing ecstasy from your body and leaving you breathless.

Finally, when you were too tired to move, thoroughly blissed by his ministrations, Wolffe quickly stripped himself of his blacks, laying his body on yours. You felt his rigid cock against your thigh, knowing he was probably desperate for his own relief.

You reached down to grasp him, wanting to give him the same amount of attention as he just gave you, but he gently moved your hand away.

“Next time…” he murmured. “This is all about you.”

Wolffe rubbed his cock against your folds, which were thoroughly soaked. “We don’t have to if you’re not feeling-” Wolffe started. You grasped his hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I want to. I want you.” You looked up at him, your eyes begging to have this moment where it’s just the two of you, no one else.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in flush against you. “I'm yours.”

Wolffe was so deep inside you, your vision was blurred and you were delirious with euphoria.

You couldn’t speak, every thrust of his hips punching the breath out of your lungs.

Wolffe was talking to you, guttural saccharine murmurs between his own pleasured groans only meant for you to keep close to your heart.

The ever-strong, stalwart Commander, never showing weakness on the battlefield or in front of his brothers, opened his soul just for you in this powerfully private moment.

It almost overwhelmed you, how much he trusted you. You felt guilty for keeping your feelings from him the past few cycles, but as he ravaged your body so devoutly and thoughtfully you couldn’t linger those thoughts long.

Your final orgasm was quickly approaching, Wolffe’s brutal pace not slowing as he felt you clench around him, knowing you were close.

Your knees were pressed into his chest, his cock plunging impossibly further as his large arms caged you in, his fists digging into the sheets around your head.

Wolffe was watching you intently now, observing how your head was thrown back, your mouth open but unable to make a sound as Wolffe gave you everything he had. “Let go, cyare,” Wolffe grunted above you, his end nearing too, your sweet cries and velvety muscle milking his cock becoming too much.

“Let go. I’m here.”

Wolffe’s messily pressed his lips to yours as you fell over the precipice of pleasure, swallowing your cries as your body shook and toes curled at the unbridled pleasure that overtook your being.

Wolffe’s wild pace did not slow, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as every thrust of his hips sent shockwaves throughout your body.

Feeling and hearing your orgasm sent Wolffe over, growling your name against your swollen lips, his hips stuttering as his cock emptied inside you. His warmth filled you, leaking onto your sheets as he pumped into you with a few final, shallow thrusts, his back muscles tensing and quivering under your palms.

He pressed his face into the side of yours, his heavy breath tickling your skin as he stilled, laying on top of you, careful not to crush you under his weight.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” Wolffe spoke it so quietly, you almost missed it over the sound of your own pounding heart and heavy breathes.

You smiled, repeating back the words, understanding their meaning. You were learning Mando’a from Wolffe, still trying to nail down the correct pronunciations.

Wolffe smirked softly. “Good effort, but you need more practice. I think you told me I was your loving idiot.”

You giggled, feeling lighter now, the burdens of war momentarily forgotten as you lay with Wolffe. “I guess I’ll have to keep saying it.”

Wolffe grunted, a ghost of a rare smile still on his face.

With some effort, Wolffe rolled off of you, your bodies slick with sweat. Leaving you on the bed, he went into your small refresher. You could hear the sound of water being turned on, and he emerged a few moments later, coming back to the bed.

You thought he was going to lay next to you again, but he slid his arms under your legs and torso, effortlessly lifting you up. “Wolffe, what are you…?” You gasped as he nestled you into his arms.

“I’m not done taking care of you, cyare.” He rumbled, striding to the bathroom where the tub was being filled up.

You smiled as he let you down from his arms, stepping onto the cool tile, your legs wobbly from your lovemaking.

“I thought you said you had a lot to do?” You teased as Wolffe stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water.

“I do, but it can wait. You’re more important than reports and meetings, cyare. At least tonight.” Wolffe smirked, his cybernetic eye flashing, gesturing for you to join him.

You stepped into the tub, the hot water relaxing your sore muscles, your mind finally at ease. You faced him, the steam filling the room.

“Thank you.” You muttered, reaching toward him and running your hand over his scar, tracing your fingers under his eye.

Wolffe turned and kissed your palm. “No need.”

You smiled, leaning back against the tub, sitting in comfortable silence. Your previous anxious notions evaporating with the steam rising from the water.

You knew there were tough days still yet to come for both of you, but at least right now, you could forget.

Taglist: @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @secretthegriffin @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @idontgetanysleep @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @523rdrebel @dukeoftheblackstar @sleepingsun501 @pb-jellybeans @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar

Like my stuff? Join my Taglist here!

[the-broken-truth]

Twisted Wonderland Nonsense [6]: The Prefect Chart

[Note: Yuu is genderless, using the They/Them Pronouns]

[The Overblot Boys (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, and Malleus) are occupying one of the meeting rooms; Riddle being the only one who is standing a large horizontal white board that rotates, while the rest of the Overblots are sitting in their chairs; well, Leona lounging in his chair and looked like he was about to fall asleep.]

Riddle: Now that we are all here... It's time to discuss a rather important matter: The Prefect of Ramshackle.

[All eyes are on Riddle, even Leona is awake and alert, paying attention to Riddle.]

Vil: What about My Sweet Potato?

Riddle: I am certain all of you are aware of this, but it would be wrong of me not to bring this up: We are consuming too much of the Prefect's Time from each other.

Jamil: Meaning?

Riddle: When someone wants to spend tim with Rose, they sometimes have to cancel on other obligations they have made with another one of us; causing them to feel rather bad about canceling on someone else. We all want to be around Rose, none of us can deny that; but we need to learn how to share the Prefect's Time fairly without overwhelming them.

Leona: Why the hell do I need to share My Herbivore with the rest of you when it's clear that I a their favorite?

Vil (Glaring at Leona): And what makes you think you are the Prefect's Favorite, you overgrown lazy cat?

Leona: They prefer to be around me more, considering that I am always at Ramshackle and they make me amazing meals without me even asking. And the head scratches...don't even get me started.

Jamil: Kingscholar, the only reason My Desert Flower allows you to stay at Ramshackle is because you break in when they are gone and steal their sofa for your damn napping. The only reason they make you food is because they are such a good host and would feel bad if they didn't offer you anything to eat. As for the head scratches, I am certain that you force your head into their lap and they scratch your head, thinking that you were Grim.

Leona (Glaring at Jamil): What the hell did you say, Serpent?!

Malleus: Kingscholar, Viper, that is enough. We are speaking about the Child of Man, now is not the time for pettiness. (Looks at Riddle) Please, move on, Rosehearts.

Riddle (Flips the Board over - revealing an empty Pie Chart with Yuu's Name at the top): This is the Prefect Chart, we are going to divide the Prefect's Free Time fairly so that we can all spend time with them without overwhelming them.

[The Other Overblot Boys nod.]

Riddle: Now, according to my sources: Rose's Busiest Days are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - therefore, we need to have Rose relax and rest after all of that work.

Jamil: Scarabia has some of the softest beds on campus and I can make them some good food. I will cater to my desert flower, just as I would cater to Kalim.

Vil: What about Al-Asim's Hyperactiveness and Relentless Partying? Wouldn't that bother My Sweet Potato's Rest? I think Pomefiore would be the better place for the Prefect to rest.

Idia: With that overwhelming smell of perfume? Sugar Skull should ome to Ignihyde - I have a Sound Proof Room with no dim lighting so they can get some proper rest.

Riddle: Viper, what days does Kalim not throw parties?

Jamil: He tends to avoid partying on Wednesdays.

Riddle: Okay - Aftering Rose's Work on Wednesdays, Rose will rest in Scarabia. Pomefiore woud be good for Mondays, and Ignihyde on Fridays.

[Vil, Jamil, and Idia nod]

Riddle: Moving on. The Prefect loves to execise on Saturdays to release all pent up energy and anger. I think it would be best if Rose spent that day with Savanaclaw.

Leona: Agreed.

Malleus: If that is the case, I would ask that My Child of Man comes to Diasomnia on Sundays.

Riddle: That is fair. Moving on...

[The Overblot Boys continue the meeting for about 30 Minutes and ends when Riddle gives everyone copies of the Prefect Time Chart they've all agreed one.]

[Meanwhile - At Ramshackle]

Yuu (Reading a book and looks up, looking around to see if someone is watching them): Why do I feel like someone is gunning for me?

[clu-ven]

The Closet

Summary: The Wolfpack is sick of the constant arguing between you and Wolffe, so they take matters into their own hands. Surely if you and the Commander were accidentally locked into one of the supply closets, you’d come to some sort of middle ground, right?

Well, there’s one thing they’re forgetting… you’re claustrophobic.

TW: small spaces, claustrophobia, panic attack 

Word Count: 4.7k

-> Reader uses she/her pronouns - masterlist can be found here <-

“It’s the perfect plan!” Boost exclaims, slapping the table in front of him for emphasis. 

The mesh hall is relatively crowded today, many hungry troopers finally getting some time to relax after another tough mission. Despite the loud chatter of the room, Sinker keeps his voice low. 

“I’m not sure,” he concludes with the shake of his head “it sounds risky and Wolffe is in a bad mood as it is, I don’t want this to make him worse”.

At the other side of the table, Boost shares a mild look of annoyance with Comet. “C’mon Sarge, this solves all of our problems!” Comet replies with a whine. It took him and Boost the past week to come up with this plan, putting more time into it than they’d like to admit.

With a deadpan voice, Sinker replies “Oh so this will end the war? And kill Dooku? And wash the gunships? Each and every problem we have will be instantly solved if we lock them in a supply closet?”.

Boost shrugs, trying to stay optimistic “You never know”. Sinker scoffs, rolling his eyes at his brother. 

The plan was simple but Comet and Boost couldn’t do it alone. They needed Sinker for this to work. Sighing, Boost leans across the table “Look, all you have to do is get her into the closet on the lower deck, that’s it”. 

Sinker is still unsure. “We’ll get the Commander, shove him in there, lock the door and ta-dah! Job done” Comet adds. 

This doesn’t sound like a good plan. Sinker knows that but it is enticing. He’s not sure if he can handle another mission full of you and Wolffe’s bickering, the two of you proclaiming you can’t stand the other.

Missions would be much easier if you both avoided each other but no, despite the constant arguing you two engage in, you will still insist on being near one another, whether that be sharing the same holomap (which is an absolute nightmare to witness) or standing next to one another in a briefing (which leads to you interrupting him and vice versa for the entire. damn. briefing.).

Sinker wants to say no, to put a stop to his brother’s shenanigans but would this do any harm? Maybe if you both got the opportunity to confront one another and get all of this arguing out of your system once and for all, then you might come to some sort of middle ground and let bygones be bygones.

“If I agree to this…” he begins and Boost impulsively throws his fist in the air “Yes! You're in!”.

“I said if…” Sinker says sternly “if I do this then the two of you have to wash the gunships”.

Boost nearly falls off his seat “H-how many are you expecting us to wash, Sarge?”. 

“I want four done by the end of the next rotation”.

Although Comet has never experienced a heart attack, he’s sure this is how it feels “What?! Four? C’mon Sinker, be reasonable”.

He folds his arms “Boys, if you want my help then that’s what it’ll cost ya”. Exchanging looks to one another, Comet huffs “Fine, we agree”.

***

The sound of your name makes you look up, eyes wide as you scan the corridor. Manoeuvring through some troopers, Sinker comes into view. 

Closing your datapad, you give the Sargeant your full attention, a relaxed smile on your face. 

“Sinker, what can I do for you?” You ask.

A flicker of sympathy crosses Sinker’s face as he answers “Well, I was just wondering if you could help me get some batca patches from the supply closet. There’s a whole box in there but, well, y’know me, I accidentally pushed them behind the shelving unit and now they’re stuck between that and the wall. Do you think you could get them for me?”.

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, so quick to help that it makes the ball of guilt in Sinker’s stomach grow “lead the way”.

While usually you and Sinker always find things to talk about, he’s strangely quiet during your walk to the lower deck. It’s not something that alarms you but instead, it worries you. 

It’s no secret that things have been intense lately. The missions have gotten deadlier, injuries are harder to aid and the Separatist army seems to be growing more and more by the minute.

Even something as simple as accidentally knocking some bacta patches behind a cabinet seems like a dire problem nowadays. 

“It’s that one, just up ahead” Sinker slows his pace, pointing at one of the closets. 

“You’re not coming in?” You quirk an eyebrow, slowing your pace to match his. 

“Hm? Oh… uh, no I have to go help the General with something… sorry, I should’ve said that beforehand” he scratches the back of his neck, preferring to look down at the floor.

“That’s ok, you go on ahead, I’ll take care of this” with a firm nod, you open the door to the closet and disappear inside. Once Sinker’s certain the door has fully closed behind you, he lets out a long sigh. Kriff, that was harder than he thought it would be.

The inside of the closet is dark, the dim lights taking a few seconds to boot up. In your time serving the GAR, you’ve been on a multitude of ships, covered with the most cutting edge technology and yet in each and every ship, the closets are always neglected. 

They’re a second thought in comparison to the other elements of the ship. Cluttered floors, racks that are full of various stock that are probably out of date, a musty smell in the air, dull lights that are incapable of doing their sole purpose. It’s not a place you want to be for a long time.

Trying to look behind the metal shelving units, you mumble a curse. It’s dark behind the cabinets with barely enough space between them and the wall for you to fit your arm through.

Stooping down, you reach into the darkness, trying to find this damn box of bacta patches so you can quickly leave again. 

You’re so invested in finding the box, you pay no attention to the voices outside. “Why would the General want to meet me in there?” A voice says and without missing a beat, another voice replies “I’m not sure, Commander, I thought it was best not to ask”.

Behind you, the door opens but with the position you’re in, it’s hard to turn around and look. “I haven’t found it yet,” you call out “kriff, how far back did it fall?”.

The person doesn’t reply. 

“I know you’re really busy just standing there and all, Sinker,” you huff “but I’d really appreciate some help”.

“Sinker?” the voice scoffs, making you freeze. Clumsily removing your hand from behind the cabinet, you stand up straight and come face to face with Commander Wolffe.

You have to admit, you didn’t think you’d come this close to him, your chest almost bumping against his as you sway backwards to give him some space. “Oh! Commander-“ you start but Wolffe talks over you.

“I know us clones all look the same but the last time I checked, Sergeant Sinker has silver hair and both of his biological eyes”. You can hear the venom in his voice, his tone laced in sarcasm as he continues “Just a tip, so you don’t mix people up next time”.

You can’t help scoff, retorting “Mix people up? I wasn’t even looking at you! Am I just supposed to sense how many biological eyes you have?”.

“You should look whenever someone enters a room,” Wolffe begins to lecture you “that’s protocol 101; always be aware of your surroundings”.

“My apologies, Commander, I didn’t realise I came here to get a lesson in GAR protocol” you snap back. This is a usual occurrence whenever you and Wolffe are near each other, neither of you backing down and arguing until you’re separated by the others.

With the rolls of his eyes, Wolffe gestures towards the door “Just go, I have an important meeting in here”.

“With pleasure” you mumble, trying to move around the Commander without walking straight into him or colliding with the multiple cabinets.

Wolffe leans to the side, huffing loudly just to make sure you know this is a bother to him, giving you space to step over one of his legs and move to the door.

Your fingers brush against the control panel to the door, lighting it up. Nothing happens. You wait a few moments before doing it again but this time you press harder on the panel. Still nothing.

“Huh…” you crease your brow, repeating the action for a third time.

You hear some movement behind you and Wolffe turns his body to face you, peering over your shoulder at the control panel. With his critical gaze on you, you try again but to no avail. 

“Are you pressing it hard enough?” his voice is gruff and surprisingly close to your ear. 

You jerk your head away from him “Jeez, are you trying to make me go deaf? Of course I’m pressing it hard enough!”. With extra force, you press down on the control panel again. 

Nothing. 

Wolffe rolls his eyes, reaching his arm around you and trying it himself “Obviously you’re not if the door isn’t opening”. Stabbing his finger at the control panel, you hear a small “...oh” from behind you when the door still refuses to open. 

“Move over, let me have a proper look at it” Wolffe puts his hands on your shoulders, abruptly guiding you away from the control panel as you both switch places in a shuffling motion.

Now with Wolffe closest to the door, you lean against one of the cabinets, firmly planting your hands on the cool metal. 

You can feel your face becoming flushed, a surge of warmth spreading across your cheeks. The door will open, of course it will. This is just a small malfunction, that’s all. And then you can leave this stupid closet and never come back here again. 

Trying to distract yourself, you decide to subject yourself to small talk with Wolffe. 

“So, why are you here anyway?” you ask, your grip tightening on the shelves as if you’re bracing for impact. 

Wolffe keeps his focus on the control panel, fiddling with it as he answers “The General wants to meet me in here, says it’s something important”. 

Are you hallucinating or did he just say the General? Clarifying, you ask “General Plo wanted to talk to you… in a supply closet?”.

“That’s what I said”.

“And the General said this to you himself?” you pry, trying to ignore the loud thudding of your heart. 

“Not exactly” putting his hands on his hips, Wolffe pauses his investigation of the control panel “hmm, it was Comet and Boost. They said he wanted to meet me here”.

You force out a small laugh “And you believed them? Really?”.

Wolffe says something you don’t quite catch, something in Mando’a. Running his hand down his face, he gives the control panel a death stare for good measure. 

“The bad news is the door is locked from the outside, so I can’t open it from here but the good news is the maintenance droids run on a tight schedule so one of them should be…” glancing over his shoulder at you, his words fail him and for a moment, Wolffe’s taken aback.

The puzzled look on the Commander’s face makes you feel even worse, an overwhelming feeling of dread consuming your senses. “What? What is it?” you question, your tone a little too confrontational but thankfully Wolffe doesn’t bite back (for once).

“Why is your face so red?”.

Your stomach twists in directions you’re not sure it’s meant to, utterly embarrassed by such a question. Averting your gaze, your eyes lock onto the shelves that line the room, so cluttered it feels like they’re swarming you.

If you reach your arm out, you could touch almost any shelf. Could you do that beforehand? Is the room getting smaller?

With the surprisingly gentle call of your name, Wolffe brings your attention back to him, his hands out in front of him as if he’s trying to tame a wild animal. “Just tell me what’s wrong,” he coaxes, moving closer to you “are you hurt? Is that why you're in here?”.

With his hand a mere inch from touching you, you flinch, pressing yourself deeper into the cabinet as you screw your eyes shut. It’s not that you don’t mind being touched but the thoughts of feeling such a dominant presence as well as the cramped aura of the room makes your stomach churn. 

“No, no, I don’t like this room,” you blurt out, voice beginning to shake as you continue “everything feels too tight, it’s all too close, I-I don’t like it”.

Wolffe can handle fighting battle droids, kriff, he can even hold his own against a sith but this? He knows he’s out of his depth but Wolffe also knows this isn’t the time to freeze, not when it’s you. Right now, you need him and he’ll be damned if he doesn't help.

He notices your tight grip on the shelves, your knuckles turning white as if you’re holding on for dear life. “Do you want to sit down?” Wolffe keeps his voice uncharacteristically soft, stooping to the ground in the hopes you’ll follow. 

Hesitantly opening your eyes, you scan the floor below. It’s covered in loose, discarded items that once sat on the shelves but have since been looked over and forgotten.

Is there any part of this closet that’s clean? That doesn’t feel crowded? Your head pangs, pain lingering across your forehead. 

You let out a whine. Wolffe keeps one of his hands stretched out to you, opening his palm wide “Don’t be stupid about this, let me help you”. 

You don’t think he can help, in fact you don’t think anyone can help you right now. But then your gaze meets his. Wolffe looks up at you with calm, hopeful eyes, his rough exterior and brazen nature slowly melting away. 

You try to take a deep breath but the tightness in your throat makes it an impossible task. You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t even want to look at Wolffe right now, the embarrassment of your involuntary actions making you feel worse. But what other choice do you have? It’s not like you can walk away, you can barely take a step forward without face planting a cabinet.

Nervously nodding your head, you take his hand. Wolffe tentatively encloses his hand around yours, watching your reaction closely. At any sign of further discomfort or even the slight jerk of your hand, he would let go, not wanting to accidentally make matters worse. 

“Good… finally, you actually followed an order” he jibes, the subtle smirk on his face letting you know he’s not purposely dissing you. Although this is a comment you’d usually roll your eyes at, you weirdly find comfort in his typical teasing. 

With his hand to steady you, you slowly lower yourself to the ground. “There you go,” Wolffe comments “were you hurt? During the last battle?”. He knows you said it’s the room causing this but he doesn’t see how that’s possible. Not unless this was somehow caused by an injury you sustained in battle, one that’s only rearing its head now.

You shake your head, though that only makes you feel dizzy. “No, no… i-it’s too tight, this room, I need to get out,” you reply through laboured breaths.

Keeping one hand enclosed around yours, Wolffe uses his other hand to reach up and try the control panel again. He sighs when nothing happens. 

Letting out a small whimper, you slip your hand out of Wolffe’s, using both of your hands to pull your knees up against your chest as you hang your head low. 

You’ll never hear the end of this. Out of all the clones aboard, why did it have to be Wolffe in here? The one person you know will bring this up at a later date just to get the upper hand in an argument. 

What makes it worse is that you know he’ll only view you as being weak after this. Wolffe is a man that’s been through so much in his life, surviving a countless number of battles, disasters and attempts on his life. The heavy feeling of shame makes you hold onto your knees tighter. Wolffe is such a strong soldier and here you are, crumbling because of a locked door.

The soft sound of your name drags you away from your internal self-criticism, followed by a poking sensation on your leg.

Barely looking up, you see Wolffe prodding your knee, repeating your name again as he adds “I can’t help unless you give me something to work with, tell me what I can do”.

Wolffe has always had mixed feelings about you but that doesn’t mean he wants to see you upset. Sure, you’re stubborn… and feisty… and a headache to work with but in fairness, you’ve always been there for the Wolfpack. 

After a tough fight, you’ve helped them bandage up. When you don’t have full faith in a plan (usually one of Wolffe’s) you’ll create a backup plan for when things inevitably go off track. Even on those quiet rotations, when memories filled with loss and regret begin to flood his brother’s heads, you’re there, listening to them. You’re a comforting presence in many of their lives, even Wolffe’s.

But don’t even ask him to say that out loud. That’s never going to happen.

He pokes you again “C’mon, it’s not like I’m going anywhere… even if I wanted to”. You huff out a laugh, though that proves harder than you initially thought, your dry mouth making the laugh sound more like a cough.

If you don’t get out of here soon, you think you might get sick, the anxious feelings in your stomach continuing to gnaw away at you. 

“I… I need to get out, I need to leave” with newfound determination, you begin to stand. 

The second you plant your feet on the ground, you know it’s a bad idea, feeling your muscles tremble. It’s as if you can feel each and every one of your nerves twitching, your body involuntarily trembling with panic.

Wolffe is quick to follow suit, trying to stand without knocking into one of the shelves. “Woah, take your time” he says a bit more sharply than he anticipated. 

“No, let me leave, I need to-“ before you can even finish your sentence, your legs go from underneath you. You drop, about to crash back onto the ground when Wolffe catches you, scooping you up in his arms.

“What did I tell you?” He mutters with a huff, fully enclosing his arms around you as he lowers you back down to the ground. “Stay low,” he orders “the last thing either of us need is you fainting and smacking your head against the floor”.

You thought the feeling of someone else near you would make this worse, adding a new layer of suffocation to your mixture of emotions. But it’s actually kinda nice, the warmth radiating from Wolffe acting like a warm, welcoming blanket of comfort. 

Being in the professional setting of the GAR for so long, you’ve forgotten how soothing physical touch can be at times. Although your reaction is subtle, Wolffe notices how you faintly lean into him, your head a mere few inches from resting on his chest. He watches you for a moment, studying your face. 

Thankfully, you have your eyes closed again so he’s not worried you’ll catch him staring at you. Even though you’re in the middle of a panic attack, you look more relaxed than usual. Or at least more relaxed than how you usually are around Wolffe. 

Whenever he sees you, it’s only a matter of time before you both get worked up, the two of you bickering or making not so subtle jabs at one another. But looking at you now, there’s not a single trace of that annoyance he normally associates with you.

“Just relax, take some deep breaths” he encourages you, using his hand that’s resting on your upper back to give you a gentle nudge towards him. Wolffe isn’t sure how else to let you know it’s ok to relax against him, seeing the option of saying it directly being too awkward. 

He gives you a small smile and an approving nod as you do exactly that, letting your body fall against him as you rest your head on his chest.

Your hand comes up to his chest too, clutching onto the firm fabric of his Commander’s uniform, something you’re grateful he’s wearing considering his plastoid armour would be way too uncomfortable to relax against.

With your eyes still closed, you attempt to take some deep breaths, your breathing hitching every now and again. You try to sync your breathing up with Wolffe’s, finding the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest to be a lulling piece of comfort.

The tight sensation that grips your heart doesn’t fade instantaneously but you have to admit, it’s nice having someone close. It gives your mind something else to focus on instead of the cramped room, Wolffe’s presence distracting you from your worries.

The only time Wolffe ever expected you to be this close to him is if you had enough of his shit and decided to swing for him. Never in a million years would he imagine you being so peaceful and close to him.

With your voice coming out as a small whisper, you mumble “Thank you”. 

His heart beats faster at your small piece of gratitude, something Wolffe hopes you can’t hear through his uniform. He’s not used to things like this. Give him a blaster and Wolffe can handle himself just fine but holding someone and trying to comfort them? That’s not his strong suit. 

Taking a deep breath, you speak again, this time projecting your voice a bit more. “Did you really think you were meeting Master Plo here?” you sniffle, your head still aching but thankfully, the pain’s beginning to dull. 

Wolffe has to stop himself from doing another eye roll, not wanting to start a fight or get you worked up again. “That’s what I was told” he grunts.

To his surprise, you let out a small, genuine laugh. It makes his hands twitch, wanting to pull you even closer and relish in your laugh but he resists the urge. 

“And who told you that again? Oh yeah, Comet and Boost, two troopers known for their unwavering seriousness and hatred for pranks” you laugh, something Wolffe is thankful to hear again. 

“Alright you got me there,” he admits, knowing it wasn’t the smartest move to believe his troublesome brothers “but why are you in here? Did they say the same thing to you?”.

“Actually it was Sinker,” you reveal, getting rather comfy leaning against the Commander “he asked if I could get some bacta patches he accidentally dropped behind the cabinets”.

You can feel Wolffe deflate, puffing out a deep breath “Please tell me you didn’t actually believe that”.

“Why?” You crane your head to look up at him, watching as he tries to suppress his annoyed expression. 

Although you’d never say this outloud, he looks nice like this. Looking up at him in this position gives you a great view of his jawline, both of his eyes peering down at you and a genuine smile playing at his soft lips.

Damn, maybe you did actually hit your head. Trying to refocus on what he’s saying, you push any admiration you have for the Commander deep, deep down.

“Because the batca patches are stored on the upper deck,” removing one of his hands from you, he runs it down his face “kriff, you’ve been on this ship for months and you don’t even know where the batca patches are stored”.

While you would normally jeer back a response or scoff at Wolffe’s remark, immediately becoming defensive, you find it hard to do that after everything that’s happened. 

You finally feel relaxed again, a calmness settling in your stomach and putting your heart at ease. You’re in no mood to start a fight and frankly, you don’t think you have the energy for it either.

Instead you laugh again. After all, Wolffe has a point. You should’ve known where the bacta patches are kept and if you did then you wouldn’t be in this predicament. It was a silly mistake and at this moment, you can’t find the energy within you to do anything but laugh. 

Wolffe chuckles too, appreciating your reaction. Shrugging, he admits “Can’t blame you too much, it was only last week I realised the caff machine in the mesh hall has more than one setting”.

“Seriously?” you laugh again “But the default setting on that thing tastes like droid oil”.

“I know that all too well” Wolffe shakes his head, almost tasting the sour caff on his tastebuds from the mere mention of it.

You open your mouth to speak again but before you can, the door slides open, the bright lights from the corridor making you squint. A droid whirls into the room, taking no notice of you and going about it’s own business. 

And just like that, your time with Wolffe is over. 

Giving him a small smile, you climb off of him, getting to your feet. Watching Wolffe stand too, a sudden awkwardness hangs over you. Is that it? What do you say now? Thanks for the help but I’ll still call you out the next time you’re a jerk?

Noticing Wolffe’s expression, it’s clear you’re not the only one feeling this way. “Well, I guess that’s that” he nods, gesturing for you to leave the closet. You do so gratefully, shuffling past the droid and stepping into the wide and spacious hallway. 

When Wolffe steps out, you’re sure you see a flicker of reluctance in his eyes. But you quickly brush past it, blaming it on your vision still adjusting to the bright lights. 

“Are you going to be okay from here?” Wolffe asks, though it takes you a few moments to process his words, Wolffe’s head hanging low and voice just above a whisper. You’re not sure why he’s talking so low, it’s not like there’s many troopers on the lower deck to overhear. 

“Yeah,” you try to sound confident in your answer “I’ll take it easy for the rest of the rotation, just in case”. In an effort to persuade him, you give Wolffe a quick smile. 

“Right, well you know how to contact me if you need me…” he replies before realising how soft that sounds, immediately breaking eye contact with you and clearing his throat “or just go to the medbay, yes, that’s the better option, do that instead of contacting me. I’m very busy today”

“Busy getting stuck in closets?” you playfully tease, trying to brush past this awkward energy. 

He chuckles “Better me than you”. Kriff, that sounds too soft too. Wolffe’s not a tender, warm hearted kinda guy, so he’s not sure why he’s trying to be that around you, even if it’s subconsciously. 

Quickly shoving his feelings to one side, Wolffe chalks it up to your rare vulnerable moment bringing out his protective nature. That’s it. The next time he’ll see you, things will be normal, none of this small talk or softened expressions to one another.

With the curt nod of his head, the Commander walks away. It’s true, he does have a lot to do today but if you were to contact again, he’d be there in a heartbeat… even though he’s not exactly sure why he’d feel so much urgency to be there for you again. 

You blink a few times, surprised by his abrupt exit. But then you remember this is Wolffe so his sudden departure should’ve been expected. After all, he’s “so busy”. Rolling your eyes, you walk in the opposite direction, deciding to track down Sinker and give him a piece of your mind.

[wovenintosilk]

Hii, hope you're doing well!❤ I'm here to ask for a request (if they are open, if not, just ignore this) for Miles (both the spiderman and the prowler). Okay so, the reader (can be female or gn) is best friend with both Mileses(idk how to write names in English in plural, sorry) and in the Earth 42! Miles' (the prowler) she/they died (how optimistic) before he became prowler but, in Spiderman! Miles' universe she's/they're alive. 42!Miles is in love with her/them and very sad 'cause she's/they're dead. The Spiderman! Miles is not in love with them since he met Gwen and fell in love with her. Also, the reader is super - duper smart and she/they help(s) the Spider Society sometimes with technology and etc for money, but it's not a spider person themselves. So, when Miles Spiderman goes to the wrong universe , the reader also goes there and when Miles (spider) wakes up, she wakes up also tied to a beating thing(idk what's it's name) and she's like "Nah, idk, I can't do pretty much without my tech and you took it" and just chill and calm, not caring pretty much about the situation since she/they can't change it (and if u can, please insert a word fight between Miles the prowler and the other Miles, where the prowler is like "She's a very good person, they did so much for both us, and is alive in your universe and still you choose to fall in love with a person who you may not even see again tomorrow and weren't there for you in your worst time?" And the spidey just tries to convince the prowler to let him go to his universe to save his dad) Thanks and sorry for a request this long 😭(and sorry if u didn't understand something, English isn't my first language) ❤❤

CW: References to Death

F!Reader (Use of She/Her Pronouns)

Word Count: 1300

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

A haze hung heavily over your eyes, clouded your vision as you tried to wake up and ignore the harsh throbbing at the back of your skull. Had you hit your head on something? You couldn’t even remember what had happened…

You followed Miles home. What he wanted to do had been dangerous and risky and could destroy everything both of you knew.

But it was Miles. All the times he’d had your back, both in and out of this dimension… you couldn’t leave him to fight this kind of battle by himself. After stepping through the portal, you’d only had a short period when you could look around before something hit you.

You flexed your fingers, surprised to find your arms restrained.

Alright. Damage control then. You could feel the leather pressing against your back so that must mean you weren’t tied to a wall or anything like that. A little shuffling revealed that it was movable to maybe a punching bag?

Which meant you should be able to rotate a little if you just adjusted your weight and… there.

The punching bag swung around as you slowly came to see two expressions staring at you – one panicked and uncertain while the other appeared an uncertain mix of neutral and confident.

But both versions were the same person. Miles.

And they both seemed very surprised you’d woken up.

“I didn’t think I would see you here,” you said, forcing your voice to work so you could croak out something and break the silence. “Uh… either of you, I suppose.”

Quick thinking made you aware of a few small problems with your current predicament. Perhaps largest of which you could see in the purple lighting surrounding you. The lair of the prowler and given the clothing choices of the new Miles, one you might know better than you wanted to.

“She’s alive.”

It was said so simply. Without question or thought. Yet it hit like a punch into your stomach as the implications of the words dug much deeper than you expected.

“Am I not meant to be?”

The Miles you didn’t know, shrouded in darkness and purplish-green hues stepped forward to get a clearer look at you. Something unnatural hung in his expression – it worried you how blankly he watched you. “No,” he eventually said. “No, you’re not meant to be alive in this dimension.”

The twisting feeling in your gut got a thousand times worse as you stared at him. What was that supposed to mean. Had you died here?

“Well,” you said. “I don’t think I’m meant to be dead in my dimension so have no plans to change that.”

“Why did you follow me?”

This time, the question came from the Miles you knew. The one who you’d spent countless hours speaking to. Yet he looked at you as though you’d betrayed him by following him through the portal. Maybe he thought you had.

“Nobody else knows where I came,” you explained. “They… they’re too occupied with everything else to waste time on me.”

“You should have stayed where you were safe,” the new Miles said and you felt like a tennis ball with how much you were being spoken to by both. “This dimension isn’t where you’re meant to be.”

“I didn’t really know that,” you complained. “I don’t routinely look at every dimension and see if I’m alive or not in it. All I did was follow Miles.”

“Then he shouldn’t have let you follow.”

Miles looked rather offended at his counterpart’s comment. “I didn’t even know she was going to do that. How was I meant to stop her if I only found out she followed me a few seconds ago?”

“You should pay better attention.”

You couldn’t help but wince at that, feeling almost validated in your own insecurities regarding the lack of consideration provided by Miles most days. Ever since he learned about the other Spidermen, things had felt somewhat strained between the two of you. After all, you couldn’t swing through the city with him or relate to all the secrecy and experiences of the superheroes.

“I have to get home somehow,” your Miles finally said. “Both of us do, alright? If you let us go, we can help save our dad.”

“Your dad. How is she alive?”

“What?”

The new Miles gestured to you and slowly turned to face Miles. “Did you save her?”

“From what?”

“Then she must not have been with you when it happened. Why? What were you doing instead of spending time with her?”

You were starting to get very confused but something else caught your attention. The build-up of Miles’ electricity, flowing steadily from his touch against the chains. He had a plan to escape from this – if only the other him didn’t notice.

“When did it happen?” you asked. “Maybe I can tell you.”

The date he said meant little to nothing to you. It was fairly recent and if you remembered well enough, you didn’t even see Miles that day. You’d meant to but by the time you arrived, he’d already been long gone with –

“You were with Gwen,” you said and then hurried to add. “She’s another… friend of ours.”

“Another friend from a separate dimension.”

Okay, so there was no getting around that. You nodded slowly, trying not to show how sensitive the topic was. You liked Gwen well enough even though she rarely truly socialised with you.

The new Miles scoffed. “So, he abandoned you for somebody new but I don’t see her here. She didn’t follow him.”

The awkward silence he caused nearly made you wince. Gwen’s betrayal still ran deep in Miles and you knew this topic wasn’t a great choice for right now. Still, you needed to keep speaking to maintain the Prowler’s attention so he wouldn’t notice the escape plan.

“Gwen had other things to deal with,” you told him. “And I wasn’t abandoned.”

“Do you believe that?”

You didn’t. But you weren’t exactly going to turn the attention back onto your Miles right now so you gritted your teeth.

“I’m sorry I died here,” you said.

“Obviously. You weren’t meant to. I tried… I don’t understand how it’s fair that you get to be alive in the dimension where another version of me forgets that you exist. And then you’re sent here and he gets angry at you. Strange.”

A break in the façade of the Prowler. For a second, the emotionlessness changed and you saw an actual response to how you felt.

“I’m not angry,” Miles defended himself. “I just need to get home quickly, alright? This is more important –“

“No, it’s not.”

As though a cruel joke in your favour, you saw a flash of something in the new Miles that you’d always wanted from the one you knew. The look of a person who could have once returned your feelings.

And so, you hesitated in speaking and he turned back to your Miles just as an explosion of electricity sent chain links in every dimension.

For a second, you met his eyes and watched him mouth that he’d be back right before he bolted for one of the windows. Glass shattered everywhere as his counterpart shook his head and bolted after him.

You groaned and rested your head against the punching bag, left alone in a warehouse.

The chains loosened around you and you had only a second to react before you landed on the ground. You winced and rolled your shoulders, turned around to find the last person you ever expected to.

“Come on,” Aaron says. “Boy wouldn’t want you to stay here and wait for him.”

You didn’t know which one he was referring to but without many options, you followed him into a harshly different world to the one you grew up in.

[midnightstay-blog]

6+9 with svt dokyeom he/him please?

Sure ! 😊 I hope you like it. It's my first time writing for he/ him pronouns.

💫Muse💫 (Requested)

Au 🌕| Fluff 🌙 | Male Reader 💙 | Request💫 | Scenario ✨

TW: Mentions of Alcohol

Genre: Dokyeom x male reader

Theme: Friends x lovers, Photographer x muse, A little bit of jealousy.

Rating Pg13

Word count: 2,482

Summary: after being invited to Dk's showing at a gallery the night takes an unexpected turn for the better.

Click, Click, Click the camera went as you posed for what seemed like the 13th time that day. You were currently in the middle of a photoshoot for a prominent magazine. Though you loved being a model you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tired. The only thing that made this time worth it though is that you were being photographed by Dokyeom. You guys had been friends since college, and he was an amazing talent to say the lease.

“Can you please hold still I swear I have one more shot then you can go change and we’ll be done for the day.” He said.

He smiled at you the same as when you first met, and your heart began to flutter a little. See you had always had a little crush on Dk since orientation when he walked into your school’s auditorium and accidentally tripped on the last two steps. You wanted to go and help him up, but some girl had already beat you two it. The two of them seemed pretty chummy so you shrugged and found a seat next to your friend. You didn’t see him again after that until you became roommates during your second semester. You grew close pretty quickly and had been friends ever since. Soon he was done and you thanked him along with the other staff members as you went to your dressing room and changed.  Moments later as you reemerge you notice dk putting away the last of his equipment. Place your duffle bag on a near by stool you help him as he begins to disassemble the last soft box light.

“Thanks.” He said while rubbing his hands together.

“No problem be sides it looked kind of heavy.” You pointed out. You go to your bag and pull out a pack of fruit snacks offering him one. Accepting it he opens it and begins to consume its contents. “Hey, you know Josh is gonna be in town today if you want to have dinner with us.” He offered.

“Really that’s great I didn’t know he was back already I figured he was still in Korea working with that one company.”

“He was but I guess they wrapped up early, so he booked an earlier flight back to see family.” Dk stated.

“He gets in later tonight, so I won’t see him until after my exhibition at the gallery.

You nod at his statement before popping the last fruit snack in your mouth.

“Oh, that reminds me.” He states while reaching into his bag and pulling out a flyer.

“I’m having an exhibit of some of my work later and I wanted to know if you could come?” He asks sheepishly.

You take the flyer from his hand and examine its contents as happiness begins to fill you.

“Dude I’m so proud of you.” You state hugging him.

“Thanks, but it’s no big deal.” He says waving his hand dismissively.

“No big deal dude your work is going to be shown at one of the biggest galleries in the city it’s a huge deal.” You speak.

Dokyeom begins to feel sheepish as you continue to praise him. Though he was used to being praised strangers it always felt different when it came from the people, he was closest too.

“And to answer your question I would be honored to come support you on your big night.”  You declared.

The two of you exchange a bit more details before saying your goodbyes.

Later on, that evening you arrive to the gallery dressed in your best suit. The building is full of different people from the industry from other models to ceo’s and even a few producers. Life just seemed to pour from the building as you made your way inside. Soon you were met by a member of the wait staff who offered you a glass of champagne along with one of the many assorted cheeses that they had in rotation for the night. Accepting you thank them and make your way over to the first photograph that hanged in the corner of the gallery. You recognized it as the coffee shop that the two of you used to frequent while in college. However, instead of it’s warmth interior being present it seemed colder. Maybe because it was in black and white or possible because the shadow that is present in the center seemed to all but stand still as the people around it moved back and forth in the form of blurs. Either way you found yourself emersed in the piece.

“Enjoying the show?” a voice states pulling you from your trance.

Turning you notice the presents of a young man no more than maybe 28 years old standing next to you. “Oh yes very much how about you?” you inquire.

“I think the works are gorgeous Just like you.” He states wrapping his hand around his silver wristwatch.

He was gorgeous to say the least probably one of those nepo babies that you hear about all of the time. His outfit certainly seemed like it cost a lot. For a moment he catches you staring at him, and he turns away blushing a bit. Not wanting him to get the wrong idea you clear your throat before continuing trying to cut through the awkwardness.

“You know he’s a personal friend of mine the artist. We’ve been friends since college.” You mention trying your best to make small talk. The woman grins as she takes a step forward. “Well then maybe you could introduce us sometime.” she inquires.  “I mean besides if he must be a pretty great to have a friend as handsome as you.” She states before lightly placing a hand on your chest. You begin to feel a bit uncomfortable with the way the conversation is going so you decide to let her down as gently as possible. However, before you can Dk makes his way over to the two of you and takes your hand.

“Babe there you are I’ve been looking for you all night where have you been.” He questions. You are taken off guard by the name but welcome it along with the warm feeling that has formed in your chest. Briefly you look between the two before adjusting your tie a little and speaking up. “Sorry Kyeomie I just really wanted to see this picture that you took it so captivatingly beautiful.” You tell him.  He gives mutters a small thanks before placing a small peck on your cheek and turning back to the woman.

“Who is this?” He inquires. Blinking a few times, you bring yourself back to reality before continuing.  “Oh, this is...” you trail off before remembering that you never got her name.”

“I’m Mason … Mason Evington” he says shaking dk’s hand.

“Oh, that’s right your dad owns two of the biggest art galleries in the world.” He nods in agreement.

“I didn’t know you two were together. “He states as red creeps onto her face showcasing her embarrassment.

“it’s relatively new “dk states grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers.  “Apologies I didn’t introduce myself I’m Dokyeom but everyone calls me Dk.” He states smiling wide. Realization sets in as He begins to recognize him as the artist. Noticing her error, the redness in her face darkens slightly.

 “I love your work. I think you have a great eye for details.” he tells him. Dk nods understandingly before he mutters a small thank you.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you but if you don’t mind, I’d like to barrow him from you show him some more of my work.” Dk proposes before leading you towards the back of the gallery.  Mason nods before biding you both goodbye and making her way to a different section of the gallery. For a moment the two of you walk around and look at the different photographs as you continue to mingle with all kinds of people. After a while you get used to having his hand in yours and for a moment you even allow yourself to dream of what life would be like if this moment were a bit more permanent. However, after a while you let go of Dk’s hand as he is talking to another photographer about a job that he did in Paris last spring. You find yourself wandering for a bit until you stumble upon a particular photograph. It was a picture of you that he took once when you were at the beach. You, however, were too busy helping baby turtles into the water for to notice him taking it.

“Here you are.” He stated placing his hands into his pockets. “You must really like this one.” He inquires.

“I didn’t even know you took it.” you stated. “it’s beautiful.”

“It’s you” he stated.  You both sat there for a moment drinking in the sight before you. After a while you speak up breaking the silence. “Thanks for earlier by the way.” You state turning towards him.

 “Yeah, no problem.” “You just looked kind of uncomfortable so I figured you could use some saving.” He shrugs. “Plus, I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Silence hangs there a little longer as dk’s words began to play over and over in your head.  However, your thoughts are interrupted as dk breaks the silence this time. “We should get going Joshua is supposed to be meeting us for dinner soon.�� Nodding in agreement Dk thanks everyone for coming before the two of you make your way towards the exit.

For a while the two of you walk towards the restaurant as you recount many memories from college. After some time, the two of you make it to the restaurant just in time to be seated.  Through you had never been to this restaurant you found it quite fancy for a couple of friends just catching up.  The tables were draped in white floor length cloths while lights hanged from the ceiling.  On the table was a small tea light and a basket of bread. After being seated your waitress came back to take your drink orders. Deciding to wait for Joshua to order you both just end up ordering drinks from the bar before going back to your original topic of conversation. After while about 30 minutes had passed before Dk’s phone dinged.  Retrieving it from his pocket he unlocks it before examining the text message. Disappointment dresses his features briefly before he speaks.

“Looks like Josh’s plane got delayed by an hour, so he won’t make dinner, but he said that he’d call us tomorrow once he got settled.”  

Giving a small okay he puts his phone back in his pocket before calling the waitress back over and the two of you order. Sometime later you finish your meal and by this point you both are feeling a bit buzzed from your drinks. At this point You try to pay the check but dk objects stating that he should pay since dinner was initially his idea. However, you turn him down and take out your card stating that it’s his big night and to consider it a gift. Once the check is paid you both leave, and he begins to walk you home. As you are walking you somehow make it onto the topic of dating. He tells you how he only really had two serious relationships since college. Though you look at him in disbelief.

“You’re kidding right only two… Seriously?” you state in disbelief.

“Seriously.” he tells you as a rat makes its way through one of the many rain puddles on the ground.

“What about that girl from orientation or the one from that time we went to the beach?” You inquired.

“Okay first off that girl from orientation was gay and two the one from the beach wasn’t even my type.” He stated walking through another puddle.

“Oh, so mister man has a type I see.” You tease.

“What like you don’t?” he inquires.

“Oh, I have a type.” You state as the two of you make your way to your building.

Silence falls upon you for what seemed like the millionth time that evening.

“Well, this is me.” You state before making your way towards the door. However, before you make your way inside Dk mutters a small “Wait” Turing around you look at him while standing in your doorway. A frustrated sigh leaves his lips before he speaks again. “I haven’t been completely honest with you tonight.” He states shoving his hands in his pockets.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

He takes a moment to compose his thoughts before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“I genuinely don’t know why my brain just goes blank when I look at you. I think I’m going a little crazy.” He admits.

You stare at him in confusion waiting for him to continue.

“Earlier tonight when we were at my showing, and I came over to you and that guy.”  You nod in response remembering the awkward interaction. “Well, I didn’t do it as a concerned friend I was actually kind of well… jealous a little.” He said truthfully.

You go to speak but he cuts you off.

“Admittedly if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve had feelings for you since that day at the beach.”

You take a moment letting his words soak in as you heart begins to pick up speed. Though this moment is all that you wanted for the past couple of years you never imagined it would happen like this.

“Why didn’t you say something then?”

“I figured you didn’t feel the same.” He shrugged.  “Plus, you were spending so much time with Mingyu I just assumed that-.”

“That I was into him.” You finished. He nods as his eyes become doughy.

For a moment you tilt your head toward the ground before a light chuckle escapes your lips.

“Mingyu was my partner but not in that way.” You tell him while meeting his gaze.

“He was assigned to be a model for my figure drawing class that’s why we spent so much time together that semester.”

Feeling a little embarrassed at his assumption Dk places his hand on his neck rubbing it slightly.

Placing your hand on his face his eyes meet yours. “And for the record I had feelings for you ever since I saw you trip at orientation.” You mention. A smile makes its way to Dokyeoms face as his hand met yours.

 “I only tripped because I was trying to capture a picture of you.”  He sheepishly admits.

The both of you chuckle a little before closing the gap between you. Shortly after you pull apart before dk takes the chance to speak up once again.

“I guess you could say you’ve always been my muse.”

Request are open

[classyruinsbarbarian]

Hiiii

If your still doing headcanons, what headcanons do you have for The Coach and/or Leslie?

I had no ideas for this until I had the biggest boost of energy at 11:30 pm why. (also the headcanons are always open and if you want to ask even for a background character like Exposition Guy go right ahead!)

Leslie

She knows quadrobics as in ‘Truth, Revision, and the Lexicon Way’ before she starts fighting Huggy she was on all fours.

Trans fem, she did get bottom surgery because I never see those headcanons ever, pronouns are she/her. (If you are wondering why I didn’t do this with other characters it’s because I forgot)

I saw a headcanon that Leslie never actually wanted to be a villain which I want to expand on: it’s just she was forced to go to the biggest company by her family and because she thought that Mr Big Industries was not as evil as she once thought it was.

Also she cannot properly leave as she really doesn’t want to go through the hell that is getting people to not be scared of you and not treating like shit because of being a villain, former or not.

Also she does enjoy villainy; it's just how she was exposed to it/got into it really wasn’t the best.

She did built an immunity to Mr Big’s mind control even without the bunny pin (Mr Big, Leslie, and any other employee have a pin that looks like a squishy bunny that blocks mind control)

Popular headcanon but she and Claire are friends.

They often chat about things they are interested in (For Claire it’s photography and Leslie it’s drawing and PPATMPPH)

When Leslie was younger she wasn’t liked because of her flat affect and for her like for kids shows (cough cough autism)

Her full name is Leslie Holly Best. (I searched up what IHB stands for and it apparently stands for several sports terms, a bicep muscle, and long haired butch)

Leslie used to be furry (totally not projecting /lying)

The Coach

Trans masc, he/him, didn’t get bottom surgery.

Gay (The reason I didn’t put one for Leslie is because I have no clue what to hc for her)

Polyamous

He has Acromesomelic Dysplasia (note: more research needed, this headcanon may be subject to change)

He has two kids because Crazy wolf’s headcanons have taken over my brain

He was friends with Miss Power before the whole RoMP (once again something I nabbed from Wolf, but also because it’s an interesting concept)

The Coach had to rotate between some other villains houses after the events of The Robot Problem before the apartment was rebuilt (The Robot Problem - A Questionable Pair)

The Coach is surprisingly good at apologizing (I want to do an arc where he regains the trust of Ms Question and some of the other villains because of him and Ms Question talking to each other in the background of The Power of Whamship, but I am not good with character’s arcs which involve a proper apology and such)

If yall have tips please give it to me

He was an actual life coach with a degree in financing, but he had his degree revoked for manipulation of his students (The Whammer) and being the mastermind behind a massive crime spree.

He spiraled pretty bad because of this and was the one of the reasons he opened The Coach’s Villain School. It was also a big reason why he revoked Ms Question’s graduation certificate, he was lashing out from his own degree being taken away.

He doesn’t lash out towards the kids, but he needed someone to look after them during this time so the Botsfords (Mostly just Bampy), Exposition Guy, and Uncle Larry helped out look for them while Coach took a break.

The Coach is aware that Learnerer is interested in his villain school, but can tell from how he looks at him that he heard what the other villain schoolers said about him (I am adding Learnerer to villain school after the series finale not after the apology arc because Learnerer knows that Coach needs a break right now)

[giatreagapite]

#DR VERITAS RATIO

A heavily headcanon-driven, canon-divergent, and independent portrayal of Dr. Ratio from Honkai: Star Rail.

| DR. RATIO

[ Age ]

Early-mid 30s

[ Pronouns ]

He/him, They/them, Star/starred, Luna/lune, Dawn/dusk [ Transmasc Nonbinary/Demimale ]

[ Sexuality ]

Bisexual (masc lean)

Note: This portrayal depicts a Dr. Ratio with Halovian features! Specifically, an artificial Halovian with Eurasian Eagle-Owl features (including the ear tufts), but excluding the halo. He also has psychic abilities, but they are rather basic and minor. (You may ask admin or the character itself as to how this happened)

| ADMIN

Hi!! Call me Dango, Apollo, or Hermes! My writer tag is going to be “🍡.” I am 15 and can do lengthy writings, but often, I will do short crack posts for the fun of it! My timezone is UTC+8 and my pronouns are he/they/lune/moon/star. I also do art commissions!! See @thedangoratio (my main/art account) for info on that

| TAGS

#ratios mail = ask responses

#pride comes before a fall = solos

#mundanity of life = open starters

#dango the admin = admin posts

[ This section will be updated periodically ]

| HEADCANONS

| Visual headcanons

| Ratio’s Cats

Dr. Ratio lives alone and loves animals dearly, so he’s often fostered lost cats he meets outside and cares for them as much as he can, fighting loneliness with them in return. He has gotten attached to many, so.. That’s why he has at least 10 adopted cats and 3 critters (the cat cakes).

The cats

Eurydice

Orpheus

Ethos

Logos

Pathos

Prometheus

Epimetheus

Rhiney

Achilles

Patroclus

The critters

Sesame Cake

Lambda’s Friend

Trash Cake

| Headcanoned Lore

Dr. Ratio was a medical doctor at one point of his life, when he first graduated from university. Though, he quit after the number of patients that died in his care had reached over 10 in total over the course of a 17 year long career (including residency) at 26 years old.

Dr. Ratio hails from the planet Amphoreus, The Eternal Land. (Until proven otherwise)

Dr. Ratio is a lightweight, having never touched alcohol until 1 night when he was 26. He hasn’t had a drop since then.

[ MTBA ]

| Miscellaneous

Dr. Ratio has been known to carry a few peculiar behaviors that are notably “owl-like”, as his students say, such as being able to rotate his head over his shoulder much more than the average person and displaying a wider gaze when presented with a topic of special interest.

Dr. Ratio is also known to exclaim with peculiar (again) noises when caught off guard. Such noises are those of a rubber duck when he is poked or squeezed spontaneously, a purring sound when comfortably sleeping, and an owl’s low “hoo” when called for (again) spontaneously.

Dr. Ratio owns a wide collection of rubber ducks in many designs, sizes and colors, each with a backstory of how he acquired them and often extremely long and.. Interesting names. Veritas can go on for hours about each one. He also collects stationary, but not as seriously.

Dr. Ratio made the marble statues used in his technique himself, a result of his stone masonry hobby. He also has a few black and white practice self portraits in the charcoal medium.

Dr. Ratio frequently collects hair accessories and rings, maintaining a wide collection of these in his bedroom. Yes, he is open to sharing the hair accessories with those he befriends.

[kagoutiss]

First of all!!! Congrats on your comic it's so super good!!! I've been rotating it in my mind since reading it like a dungeon boss key!!! So, semi-related: I remembered tags on something you posted a while back discussing Sheik's gender, and I have to say I would be *so* interested in your 40 pages single-spaced thesis about Ganondorf gender (having a billion thoughts about this myself, I'm so incredibly curious about your own take). Only if you feel like it of course!

thank you sm i’m glad to hear it!!! also i remember the tags you’re talking about— so it did NOT end up being a 40 pg thesis, but i DID actually try to draft something like that a while back since a couple people asked me to follow up on it, and then i did not follow up on it, but now that you brought it up again it gave me a chance to look back over my attempted Ganondorf Gender Essay and clean it up a bit, so! here’s my 2 cents! (thank u anon for reminding me!!)

so i’ll start with some of my personal interpretations about gender in gerudo society; this includes the idea that 1) the gerudo don’t have an inherently binary perception of gender, or really an inherent concept of gender at all, and 2) if not for the emphasis that hyrule places on the authority of Kings, then ganondorf might not be described as the One Male among his own kind at all. i’ll try to explain what i mean by this.

by default, i think in ganondorf’s society there is (or at least would be, if not for their complicated relationship with the neighboring kingdom) less of a perception of him being a Man distinct from the Women of his race, and more a view of him just…having been born a very rare type of child, who could be conveniently recognized as a kingly authority by hyrule’s definition. and this is in the context of OoT, in which hyrule has recently absorbed the last independent territory (Gerudo Valley) after the end of a centuries-long war (which is described as having ‘united’ the races of hyrule. which sounds like textbook imperialism and manifest destiny ideology, but anyway). so having been fighting directly with the kingdom of hyrule for several decades, if not centuries, to maintain their independence and some semblance of land & resources, it may have ended up being useful to take into account hyrule’s definition of men & kingly leadership. the gerudo have this special child born every century, in context it might’ve been convenient to start saying ‘if this child can fit hyrule’s definition of a king, so we could at least have one of our own to rival theirs, then so be it. this child is a blessing amidst this conflict and he fits their definition of a king, so that’s how he’ll be raised.’

that being said, i don’t see ganondorf as being inherently male, or all other gerudo as inherently female? this is really just headcanon, but i like to think there are no gendered pronouns in the gerudo language during OoT, and the induction of words like ‘voe’ and ‘vai’ may have initially referred to hylian concepts of sexual dimorphism that became gradually more incorporated into gerudo culture over time. at the same time, i also think, after generations of these two nations being at war, while simultaneously having one be reliant on the other for procreation, the binarism of hylian society would imprint itself on the gerudo in some ways (though not at all in a foundational way). as in, there is a greater understanding about hylian ideas of sex & gender, and associations are made, and it does affect gerudo culture, but the gerudo are still inherently different in terms of how they perceive people, and it isn’t necessarily as Male / Female. and gerudo people don’t perceive themselves as being All Female with One Male— though they’re aware that this is the Hylian perception, and it does benefit them at times to work and communicate within those restraints.

i think ganondorf, as a result, does not really perceive himself as being inherently male, and he doesn’t perceive his fellow gerudo as being conversely female. internally he still thinks about gender as being…mostly a convoluted hylian invention that he’s had to vigorously study and mold himself to. i think growing up he probably had to learn a LOT about hylian society and what defines a man/king other than biology; he understands on an anthropological level what makes a hylian a woman or a man, and that it’s social & behavioral as well as biological, so (at least around hylians) he tends to be a little bit. idk. hypermasculine? while working to suppress behaviors that might break that perception. i think he also deeply despises having to monitor his own behaviors in this way.

for pronoun stuff, i don’t think he particularly minds being referred to as a ‘he,’ like he’s probably used to being called a he in hylian even among his own people when that’s the tongue being spoken. and i think the gerudo might also mess around with hylian pronouns since they can be a bit arbitrary, like it would make sense if plenty of gerudo other than ganondorf used he/him for themselves or switched between different pronouns. i don’t think ganondorf would necessarily care if someone she/her’d him either, though among hylians, he would definitely be able to tell if it was meant to be mocking. and that could be insulting on different levels— namely if they’re attempting to degrade the other 99% of his population, and projecting hylian gender stereotypes/stigmas onto people it really isn’t even applicable to, and also attempting to criticize ganondorf himself for being too effeminate, too similar to the ‘women’ of his race. which may be a common attitude among hylians who think someone of ganondorf’s sex, rank, and physical stature should be far removed from feminine behaviors.

but obviously, this has no bearing on him aside from constraining his behaviors & appearance in the public eye, before he comes to power. i do not think he cares on a personal level what anyone thinks of him, and would only measure said behaviors & appearances insofar as it helps him achieve his goals. this is also just a headcanon, but i like the idea that ganondorf grows his hair out after the 7-year timeskip in OoT because he’d originally had to cut it short sometime after surrendering to hyrule, knowing he’d have to start appealing to hylian sensibilities if he was going to get very far as a vassal to the king. he may have had very long hair prior, and only grew it out again after the coup.

so. i think he has a complex relationship with gender that is based in gerudo social conventions, and then complicated heavily by hylian social conventions. to me, ganondorf doesn’t view himself as being a man per se, but he does view himself as being a sort of redefinition (or even a bastardization) of the hylian idea of a man/king? he’ll call himself a King while behaving precisely as he wishes, especially if it will ruffle any feathers who’d deem him otherwise effeminate or unbefitting of the title. because ultimately, none of that terminology means a goddamn thing to him and he’s probably sick of having to constrain himself to these imaginary rules that were entirely imposed upon him.

i think ganondorf encompasses a lot of traits that could be defined as very masculine & very feminine at the same time. i feel like if my ganondorf had to actually choose a gender he identified more with, like from the Hylian Gender Mythos, he might lean more towards the idea of women? and part of that may also be because his lived experience has been defined by Having To Be A Man? and plenty of other gerudo might identify more with stereotypically male traits, it just depends. but he also likes being called a King and encompassing that role regardless of gender, and uses he/him pronouns anyway. i call him a girl a lot and i’m not joking when i say that, i mean sometimes he really is like a butch goth girl to me??? i’m also a bit sentimental about the idea of the gerudo being ‘all women’ in a case where ganondorf isn’t considered to be an exception to that, even if his biology is unique. but i also think he would generally see hylian binarism as very silly and that he’d love to make a mockery of it. i’m running out of thoughts so i’ll just end this here lol

[duchess-kyuupid]

Hi! Your fic about Idia melted my heart.

Could I request a female reader singing Zero from Vanitas no Carte (it's in English) to Jamil at VDC because she admires and adores him?

Of course! I loved Vanitas no Carte, especially the ed song- like it's so pretty! Once again, for anyone who wants to listen along or has never heard the song, here it is! And sorry it took some time, dearie! I should be working on my college paper rn, but I've kept you waiting for long enough! Hope you enjoy <3

[Fem! Reader (no pronouns used, so it can be read as gn too), Fluff, Set in Book 5] {Uh,, this is a long one guys... About 4,600 words, for reference...Whoops, sorry not sorry I love this man to bits lol}

~Dedicating a Song to Jamil at SDC/VDC~

Okay, well, admittedly, you may have been more relieved than you should have been that you were not accepted into Vil's little group to represent the school. You always thought that your voice wasn't that great, but Grim wanted to tryout with you, and Crowley was offering to improve your living conditions at the Ramshackle dorm, so reluctantly you had agreed. You felt quite fortunate that Grim's off-tune (and frankly horrid) singing drowned out your own at the audition. However, Grim did not share those same sentiments.

"Hmph, they're missing out by not picking me, my singing is clearly superior to those two," Grim pouts as you carry him in your arms back home. He said that it'd make him feel better after basically being forced into a manager role in their group.

"Shouldn't you be proud for Ace and Deuce for making the cut? Besides, we're still helping out by letting them stay at our dorm. You'll get to watch them work themselves to the bone while you'll be getting tuna for doing basically nothing on the sidelines, isn't that a win for you?" You reason in an attempt to cheer him up a little.

"Hmm, I guess you're right! I'll be living in the lap of luxury while those two idiots do all the work!" he chuckles evilly with a mischievous smile. You supposed cheering him up wasn't such a difficult thing to do when you knew what to say.

"But don't you want to participate too?" he asks out of the blue.

"What? Me, participate? Nonono, that sort of thing isn't for me- I'm not that great, honestly. I think I'd just rather just settle with being their manager than going up there with them," you chuckle nervously.

"But you know," he chuckles, a gleam in his eyes that tells you that he's up to no good again, "I think I remember hearing a certain someone's voice singing in the middle of the night sometimes. 'Was so pretty I couldn't go back to sleep."

"I-I, well, are you sure that it wasn't just the ghosts pulling a prank on you?" your face starting to erupt in that tell-tale sign of embarrassment that revealed to Grim that he was exactly on the right track. With a haughty laugh and an evil smile, he replies,

"Nope. Asked them already, and they even said they saw you singing in the courtyard." Busted. You groan loudly and try to look away from Grim's teasing looks, but alas, as you were currently carrying him in your arms, facing yourself away from him would require you to rotate your head around like an owl- that or you'd just have to stop looking where you were walking and risk tripping over something.

"Please don't tell me how many times you heard me..." you say as your ears become redder than Riddle's hair.

"Fufufu, I don't understand why you're so embarrassed about it! You've clearly got some talent in singing- not as much as me of course, but it's still impressive for a human! So why didn't you sing like that at the audition? We could've been part of the team and had all the spotlight together!"

"Well, that's the problem," you half-heartedly laugh, scratching your cheek nervously, "I'm not a big fan of the spotlight. I've actually always wanted to be a singer, but I always got stage fright so I never went through with it."

"OHOHOHO, is my dearest Prefect of Ramshackle in need of my everlasting kindness?" you hear a sudden voice proclaim from above you and you shriek in surprise as Headmaster Crowley, quite literally, drops right in front of you out of nowhere.

"Hey! Stop showing up out of the blue like that! Ya nearly gave me a heart attack!" Grim exclaims (who may or may not have accidentally scratched your arms in his own shock). Crowley ignores Grim's complaints as he stares into your eyes with a wide, knowing smile.

"I couldn't help but overhear that you enjoy singing, and!" he emphasizes, "I just so happened to be nearby the area when you were doing your audition. I believe that should be sufficient to grant you a spot for a solo at the SDC."

"Huh?"

"You need not thank me for my generosity! I know that I am just ever so kind to my wonderful students- it is simply a part of my job as the Headmage of this amazing academy! Oh, but, there is the tiny fact that you will not be representing our school in your performance, but I'm sure that you will be more than happy with the arrangements nonetheless!" Crowley proclaims excitedly. Your mind was still reeling in confusion, as is most encounters with this man, so Grim asks in your place,

"Right, so what's the catch?"

To which Crowley gasps dramatically as if he's been hurt by Grim's question, "To think of such a thing! Why, I'm merely extending my gratitude towards one of my favorite students who I only wish to see succeed!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure you do," Grim states with a pensive look on his face.

"Buuuut, if said favorite student of mine did want to sing at the SDC competition- the solo competition is considered separate from the group acts, and thus the first place winner of the solo's will also receive a fair compensation of around 25 thousand Thaumarks! Isn't that just enticing?" At the sound of that, Grim immediately hops on board; he looks to you with excited eyes, almost begging you to accept the offer.

"Uhm, why are you asking me for this specifically, headmage?" you ask quietly.

"Why, it's as I've stated earlier, I merely wish to see you succeed! Aren't I so generous?"

"Well, I mean, you probably heard what I was saying earlier. I'm not good with crowds, so I-"

"Hush, hush with that nonsense!" Crowley interrupts you by bringing up a finger to your mouth to stop you from speaking, "I know I already promised you better living arrangements for lending the Ramshackle dorm to Vil's group, however, if you decide to agree to this solo act, then I will also arrange for free personal catering for you at Ramshackle....But only for lunch!" And he steps back from you with his hands on his hips, standing proud at his joke of an offer.

"Isn't that just like lunch at the school cafeteria? And besides, I'm not even at the dorm at lunchtime during the school week."

"Sounds like a great deal, sign me up!" Grim exclaims, despite your words.

"Wonderful, wonderful! I'm so glad that you've agreed! I look forward to your spectacular performance!" And without another word, Crowley flies away to who knows where, almost as if to avoid having to answer to whatever you had to say next.

"Grim, you're grounded from eating any tuna until after the SDC is over."

"What?!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By now it was far, far too late to be changing your mind about this- if you've even had a choice in it to begin with. You wish right now that you could have just turned Crowley down when you had the chance, but now you were stuck with this. Stuck with having to come up with something for this show. Stuck here sitting in the middle of the night with only two weeks before the event, with nothing but a blank page to showcase for your 'routine.'

Half of it's because of your work as the new 'manager' for Vil's group, half of it's because you're also trying to keep up with your normal school work too, but the biggest reason why you've hardly touched it is because you just...don't know what to do.

Most of the time, the songs you'd sing out in the courtyard would be songs your parents wrote and sang to you as a child, so they became your way of connecting back to home. Sure, you've written one or two songs of your own because you really did want to become a singer, but you always felt that those songs could never compare to the ones other people would write. And now, having to watch over Vil's group like this, you can't help yourself from comparing yourself to them.

But you technically made a promise, and you were going to go through with it. So, you decided that you would not go to sleep until you've written at least one (1) verse. Unfortunately, this has resulted in you staring at a blank piece of paper for the past 5 hours, with nothing coming up in your head to write about for your song and the time was nearing almost 5 a.m. Vil was definitely going to reprimand you tomorrow for getting no sleep, but it is technically also your fault for deciding not to tell any of them about your entry.

There's no hard feelings against them, of course, it's just that, you thought that if you did decide to tell them that you were also participating in the event, maybe it wouldn't work out too well for you. Sometimes, they can be a little bit...overbearing, to put it kindly, so you didn't want them to influence the song you're writing with their strong personalities. Vil would probably make you go through his own special skincare routine, both Rook and Kalim would give you so many compliments that you wouldn't be able to find any constructive criticism, and Ace and Deuce would probably give you too much criticism, under the guise of teasing you. And Epel? You honestly don't know how he'd react. He might just be in agreement with you as you both mutually didn't want to do this, but in the end you don't see him being very helpful seeing as how well he's been doing recently.

Jamil was probably the only one you could bring yourself to trust with this. He'd give you his solid, honest opinion without being too harsh or too jokey about it. He knows a lot about a lot of different things, so he could offer some advice on your song- what to change, what might sound better, and the like. Which would be helpful, if you had anything written down to begin with.

And in your tired, sleep-deprived state, you thought it'd be a great idea to go to him and ask for advice at this hour. So you leave your room quietly, knocking upon his door to get his attention. It didn't really take very long to wake him up in this way, and he answers the door in his pajamas with his face looking like he was fully awake and ready for anything.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" he asks gravely as he sees the look on your face (to be fair, you almost looked like a dead person with your tired eyes and your hunched over posture).

"Not an emergency. Need advice," you mumble.

"Advice for what? Can it wait until the morning? What are you even doing up this early?" he sighs.

You take a second to respond to his questions in your sleepy, delirious state, but when your mind finally processes it, you just give him a tiny shrug and a measly, 'I dunno.'

So with yet another sigh coming from him, he gently escorts you back to your room, assuming that you're just one of those types of people who lucidly sleepwalk sometimes. But when he tries to set you back in your bed, you stubbornly stand in place, crying out, "No! I'm not going to sleep until I write something down."

"You're trying to write something?"

You nod, "Mhm, but I don't know what. My parents would write about each other. They would write about the things they love. I wanna be like them, but..." your words drift away as your mind tries to succumb to sleep.

"So you want advice on what to write?" he asks with yet another sigh, and you manage to nod your head again, stubborn as you are to not sleep until you've gotten something done. "Then my advice for you is to go to sleep. Forcing yourself like this isn't going to get you anywhere. Having a clear mind is essential to writing. And when you've got plenty of rest, go outside and try out some new things. Sometimes all it takes is a change of scenery to get your inspiration going. I'll tell the others not to bother you today, so just rest for as long as you need to," he says quietly. If you were actually lucid enough to pay attention to his body language, you'd have noticed the soft looks he was giving you, or the way that he was being as gentle as possible with you as he led you back to your bed successfully.

In any case, you accepted his advice, falling dead asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, and Jamil is left shaking his head at your (adorable) antics as he walks back to his own room.

When you woke up, it was nearly 2 in the afternoon, and as promised, no one had bothered you at all. In fact, the whole dorm was quiet, with not a single soul to be seen. Which was completely reasonable, seeing as how technically school was still in session right now and the others would have practice for a few more hours in the ballroom of the Pomefiore building after that. In other words, you had the whole place exclusively for yourself for the rest of the day.

And yet, you found something quite peculiar sitting on your bedside table. It was a tea set, with a piping hot cup of tea sitting in the middle and a small note leaning against it. Holding up the note closer to your face, you can see that it reads,

'I've used magic to make sure that the tea stays warm no matter how many hours pass, but it starts to wear off when you touch it. The tea is an herbal remedy, supposed to help you clear your mind and stay focused. I wish you luck with your writing. Signed, Jamil'

Jamil made this? For you? Your face grows red in embarrassment as you recall asking for vague advice last night (or this morning, technically). You take a sip of the tea anyway, and you could feel inspiration coming to you as your thoughts continued to wander to Jamil.

'His smile. His kindness. His determination and his thoughtfulness. There's a million different things I could write about him and yet never reach the end of all the amazing things about him.'

And for the rest of the day, it was as if your pen had a mind of its own as it flew across the paper to retell your experience of you finding something that has always been there, yet you're only just realizing it now.

~~~~~~~~~

And so finally, the day of the event had arrived. It was organized so that the groups would perform first, then the solo performers would come after, and then the results of the competition would follow that, which admittedly made you nervous because it meant that the person you've dedicated this song to will be watching you perform said song. You dreaded the idea of being so vulnerable in front of this many people, however, if it meant that you could release all of these pent-up emotions within you, then perhaps it might do you some good to let it all out...

You dressed as nicely as you could, given the limited amount of clothing you had available to you since you've come to this world, but you thought you did a pretty good job at making yourself look presentable out there.

But now, it was finally go-time. All of that preparation, the secret trips to the woods at night to practice your singing and your dancing, the little glances over to Jamil as he's practicing his own routine- all of it is going to be put to the test here and now. The only barrier between you and first place now is your conviction to sing about your love for a certain Scarabian dorm member.

Your name gets called on the speakers, and you sheepishly walk up on stage with your microphone. Your eyes instinctively begin to search the crowd for your friends, but you stop yourself before you could find them because seeing their faces might make you even more nervous than you already are. You stand in the middle of the stage for a moment as the crowd quietens and the instrumentals of your song begins.

'Jamil, I dedicate this song to you- you who gave me the inspiration to compose, you who has given me the courage to follow my dreams. To you, who I've loved for all this time without realizing it. Please, accept my feelings as I sing just for you,' you think, taking a deep breath, and you start to sing.

'Ahead in the empty distance, Fading away unanswered, I turn off the lights to see all the colors in the shadow, Travels across an instant, Far beyond tomorrow, I'm watching a faint breath send a ripple through the water'

Your voice rings out softly, with a gentleness most wouldn't expect for a song appearing at SDC as it echoes through the stadium. And you smile as you get lost in your thoughts again about Jamil. He has always been the type of person to stay in the shadows, always trying his best to avoid any unnecessary attention being drawn to him, but alas, it was exactly because of this that his presence made such faint ripples in your heart to begin with. As the music kicks up a notch, you begin to start your carefully choreographed dance that accompanied this song.

'When I lose myself, I become you, Ichi kara juu leads me back to, Here inside your veil, Finer than a grand view, We'll take a dive, Not even tides can come between us,'

And you recall clear as day how when you were basically delirious from sleep deprivation, your mind's first thoughts were to go to him. Because you knew that you could trust Jamil with anything (despite his many warnings that you shouldn't trust him as much as you do). Your dance suddenly changes its slow momentum as the song progresses to be a bit faster.

'Was it you who I've been searching for, Spent my life alone and waited for, So tenderly and endlessly, You made me whole, you made me whole'

Coming to Twisted Wonderland has been in equal parts exciting and fun, yet so terribly lonely for you. You were lonely even in your own world, never having many friends who would support your interests, but Jamil always made you feel like you could be yourself around him. He was always just,,, safe.

'And the walls I built they melt away, With every touch in your embrace, Every day, every night, every note I play, You made me whole, you made me whole.'

You've become truly entranced into your thoughts, the lyrics and the dance movements coming to you naturally as your mind focuses on other things. From the crowd (that you've long since forgotten about), the people listening in were stunned to silence, enchanted by your voice and your song. Even your group of friends were staring at you with wide eyes as you continued to sing. Especially Jamil.

'How could I have been so blinded, Running away in circles, I hear my doubts drop, When I see you in the mirror,

Right beneath the surface, Washed away my sorrows, I feel your heartbeat, As it echoes through the hour'

Jamil can only stare at you with his eyes as wide as saucers, just like everyone else. Has he ever heard you sing before? No, he doesn't think he has, but he knows that you auditioned with Grim, Ace, and Deuce in front of Rook and Vil, so with a voice as beautiful as yours, why weren't you picked to represent the school? There must have been some sort of mistake in the auditioning process. You clearly had more talent than Ace and Deuce combined...

'When I lose myself, I become you, You are the moment I belong to, Here without our names,'

'Yes, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet... Jamil is so much more than just a servant to the Al-Asims. Oh, to be rid of the Viper name so that he no longer needs to suffer like he has.'

'We're back to being brand new, There's no need to hide, Just you and I until forever'

And as you repeat the chorus, Jamil can't help but to feel like certain parts of this song are quite familiar to him. Like the lyrics are grabbing hold of his heart and caressing it with the tenderness of a lover.

'Was it you who I heard through the door, When I cried and had no place to go? Every day, every night, every note I play, You made me whole, you made me whole.

Tracing and tracing the sunset, Appearing a zero and finally, Now I remember, Oh I have never lived a day without you

Untie the layer of memories, Louder we spin with the melody You are the only, only one for me'

No no no, this couldn't possibly be what he's thinking. This song is clearly a romantic ballad for someone that you must've fallen in love with at some point in time (either here or in your world). This 'familiarity' is just something his mind is making up. And just as he begins to dismiss his initial thoughts, you happen to finally make eye contact with him. You repeat the chorus again with a look in your eyes that convey everything that you're singing and more as you lose yourself to the music.

'I'll never believe I'm alone, In the end, we begin, 'till we meet again, You made me whole, you made me whole

I know I'm never alone.'

And with that, the song comes to an end, and the instrumentals fade out until the auditorium just sits still in complete silence. About a solid minute passes of silence, and you stare up at the crowd with an awkward look on your face. Thinking that this was something that the crowd has disliked, you were just about to apologize for your performance, but then the entire place erupts in an excited cheer.

"WHAT AN AN AWE-INSPIRING PERFORMANCE FROM A STUDENT AT NRC! WHY I DO BELIEVE THAT THIS MUST'VE BEEN ONE OF THE BEST WE'VE SEEN SO FAR!" you hear the announcer exclaim loudly on the speakers. You stare in shock at the loud crowd, looking at all of the happy faces (some were legitimately crying, namely Rook) cheering for you. In your embarrassment, your face reddens and you try to hide it behind your hands as you let out a meek 'thank you' to the microphone. You bow quickly and move to go backstage, but then you hear someone starting to chant 'Encore!' with many others following suit.

You leave it to the announcers to try to calm the crowd- there was absolutely no way you were going to sing another song up there again. You walk through the halls of the backstage area to get back to... Well, you didn't know where you wanted to go right now. Your face was so red right now and you were so embarrassed that you didn't know if you'd be able to handle the reactions of your friends congratulating you. Even worse, you don't know how you'd handle having Jamil congratulating you, with his stupidly cute smile and his devilishly charming eyes. You'd probably faint.

But speak of the devil and he shall appear, you see Jamil and the rest of your friends in Vil's group walking up to you with various different reactions on their faces. Predictably, Ace was teasing you for hiding away your good singing voice, Deuce and Epel both congratulated you like a normal person would, and Rook and Kalim were both brought to tears at your performance- to the point where Vil and Jamil basically had to rip them away from you (with the condition that you'd give Rook your autograph). Vil stared at you with his normal stern look at first before smiling and patting your head, saying something along the lines of you becoming yet another rival of his.

Jamil, though, he waited until everyone else was done with you before approaching you. Your heart had calmed down tremendously by then, but when you saw him walking up to you, you could feel your heart pounding inside your chest nervously. He gives you his most charming smile with a proud look on his face, and he says gently,

"You were amazing up there. I had no idea you could sing like that."

"Hehe, thanks," you chuckle nervously, looking anywhere but his handsome face, "I-uh... Remember that time I went to your room asking for advice on what to write?" he nods. "Yeah, well, that was for this, so uhm... Thank you, for, you know- giving me inspiration to write that song..."

"I gave you inspiration?" he hums, "I only told you to rest. I don't recall doing anything particularly inspiring." You let out a tiny squeak as you try to explain,

"Well! You know how it goes, one day you've got nothing and then another, you've got everything! You don't need to do anything specific to be inspired, it can just come out of nowhere!" you chuckle awkwardly, and in your nervousness you continued to talk, "And besides, you're plenty inspiration for me without even having to do anything! I wrote it for you, after all!" After the words left your mouth, you gasp and cover your mouth with your hands as your face burns bright red in embarrassment.

Jamil stares at you in shock for a moment after hearing your words. You wrote that...for him? Really? Him?

Well, he did have his suspicions of that at first, with the lyrics sounding as familiar as they did, but he brushed it off earlier, thinking that there would be no way that you would've written something so...so... romantic, for him. Did you really feel that way about him? Did you really reciprocate his feelings for you-- the ones that he's decided long ago to bury beneath the ground because there was absolutely no way you were going to like him that way?

Only one way to find out, he supposes.

Jamil slowly brings his hand to lift your face to look at him. The look in your eyes betrayed many of your emotions- embarrassment, anxiety...and hidden in it's depths, he thought he could see hints of adoration within them. In the past, he has considered using his unique spell to make you fall in love with him, however he has always decided against it, for one reason or another. So he knows that the emotions behind your eyes are real- that the lyrics for your song, which was made for him, was real.

So he takes a small leap of faith, choosing to kiss the side of your cheek, "Thank you, Prefect. It was a very lovely song."

"No," you say breathlessly (you were also in shock because you thought he was going to kiss your lips), "Thank you for being my muse."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OKAY, admittedly, this took me forever, but that's mostly on me for writing so much exposition before getting to the *actual* request part of the story lol Anon I hope that I didn't keep you waiting for too long for this request, and I hope that it was to your liking!

[tera-starstorm]

alright yeah sure new updated myr design just dropped. factoids about this thing below

was sort of half-conscious growing up until sothis awoke. capable of feeling emotion, but cannot truly express them and experiences everything through somewhat of a haze

comes paired with a sort of custom route that exists exclusively in my head that i have tentatively named seafoam star. will explain that later probably

only people he really had growing up were jeralt and whatever animals hung out wherever they were staying. was generally not around people his age and even when he was nobody wanted to engage with him because of his "odd" behavior. even adults were put off by them

known to be quite merciful for a mercenary. capable of being brutal, but it is reserved for the truly deplorable; for example, often lets thieves trying to steal from well-off folk to keep themselves or their loved ones alive go in secret. does not see these acts of survival as worthy of punishment. wishes he could help them.

time powers work more in-depth than with canon byleth. can of course use divine pulse, but this also comes with an unusually acute perception of time and the occasional ability to have visions of the past and possible futures. since his body is still technically mortal, these visions often make them feel faint if not entirely pass out. These visions can be shared via touch.

genuinely never knows what the hell is going on. people seem to think he does or that he's hiding something — he is not. he is just learning to express the confusion he feels.

more visibly nabatean than canon byleth after fusing with sothis. pointed ears and reptilian pupils come alongside the green hair. possibly has markings on his body as well i havent decided. probably has a dragon form that he is entirely unaware of

teaches all three classes and has a significant connection with them all, but is the homeroom teacher of/is the closest with the golden deer (think like... the teachers rotate who they teach basically. but each have a homeroom they are tied to/spend more time with). this is a surprise tool that will help us later

gay and in love with claude. this one needs a seperate post entirely because oh boy

did not even have a chance to choose a side between edelgard and rhea. would not have killed edelgard at rhea's request regardless and approaches her about it before the imperial attack on the monastery to ask if there is any other way. rhea was upset by the idea that he did not side with her unconditionally. he did not want to kill either of them

loves rhea, but does not trust her. Very confused by her actions and only wants the truth from her. Sees her as somewhat of a motherly figure, ironically.

likes drawing, creating jewelry (usually out of bone), sewing, and carving (usually sets of dice). like sitri, loves flowers and will be delighted to see unusual ones. has an affinity for stuffed animals.

uses he/they pronouns i forgot to put this on the ref itself oopsie daisy