#Ok this is one of those situations that requires one

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Robert sat down again. “Damn you, Ned Stark. You and Jon Arryn, I loved you both. What have you done to me? You were the one should have been king, you or Jon.”

- Eddard VII, AGOT

[the-physicality]

so i did watch jocks in jills as per my usual monday routine

[felassan]

David Gaider on Alistair, under a cut for length:

"Ah, Alistair. Depending on who you ask, he's the adorable woobie with the biggest heart or the irritating, over-used man-child. Yes, he is indeed all of those things. Good characters have flaws to go with their virtues. Ugly spots. That is literally their humanity. He was a bit of a bear to write, at the outset. James (Ohlen, the first creative director on DAO) had this idea he needed to be a grizzled Warden veteran - older, distrusting. Everyone hated him instantly. I call this the Carth Onasi Problem, and suggested to James that maybe I try something else. My observation says that the characters who are generally liked the most are the supportive ones. Enthusiastic. Funny? Sometimes, sure, but that's *not* required. I need to digress. See, at the time James had this (regrettable) period where he believed everything could be derived from a formula. He even sold this idea to the founders, Ray and Greg. Google 'BioWare formula'. Anyway, how this relates is because James thought the DAO cast needed a Minsc: a comedy character who would become super popular and, ideally, the icon of DA. "Isn't that Alistair?" you ask. "Arguable," I say, "but no." James had me to up a huge list of 'comedic archetypes' and I wrote some possible dialogue for each one. Then he had the team vote. The winning archetype? The Buffoon - like Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin. James was pleased. I was not. "The problem," I said, "is I don't find the Buffoon funny." 😅"

""But you're a professional." "Sure, I *can* write him... but comedy isn't science. I need to find him funny. If I write him, the only comedy I'll mine is where he makes fun of himself." James took that on board and then passed the character onto someone else. The result? Oghren. I rest my case. So back to the supportive character: that was my thought for a new Alistair. It was a special case, after all - the DAO PC was thrust into a terrible situation. They needed someone who had their back. A bud. A *likeable* bud. I was watching Buffy at the time, and my thoughts drifted towards Xander. Now, I know Joss Whedon is persona non grata these days, but this was 2006, OK? I was watching Buffy and thought, "man, Xander is such a wasted character" and considered how to fix him. Then I realized this might work for Alistair. Plus, I wanted to see if I could replicate the Whedon vocal patter. That was the new Alistair: a more useful and likeable yet equally dorky version of Xander. We had very strict rules in DA about language: no modern speech styles, colloquialisms, any words that came into use in our world after 1900 got severe side eye... but Alistair? Alistair got a blanket pass. Was it great that the lead writer's leading man got to break the rules? I guess not, but it's my opinion that you can break those kinds of rules - selectively, in small doses. Too much and you break the illusion. And it worked. Alistair was an instant hit. Not just with the team, but with the fans."

"Confession time? Yes, I knew Goldanna wasn't meant to be Alistair's mother. But neither was Fiona, originally. I think fans caught wind of some revisionism at work, and OK it's true. I had a more Arthurian idea for his birth but I stopped liking it... yet not soon enough to go back and make edits. Should I have just left it be, left Goldanna as his mother? Maybe. It was one of those writer things I just couldn't let go of and I probably could have used someone to sit me down and go "Gaider, please. Just stop." I still like Fiona, and where I took it. But I probably shouldn't have gone there. Casting Alistair was SUCH a chore. He required a weird mix of devilish charm, but with enough sincerity and adorkableness it didn't come off as smarmy. Every audition went full smarm... until Steve Valentine up and appeared out of nowhere. In the midst of a batch of audition files, there he was. We brought Steve in "just to try out", and he pulled it off. Even the "frog time" line, which (seriously) nobody else could. And when he got to the romantic lines, Steve's voice turned into pure butter without, again, sliding into "oh, he's slightly creepy". Both Caroline and I were sold. And he was so gloriously easy to write. It's a well I'd probably return to... a bit too often, maybe? Maric, then Anders in Awakening, and then Alistair kept popping up in future games and the comics because, yes, he was pretty much the breakout comedy character of DA. Which still makes me happy. 😁 CORRECTION: Goldanna was someone Alistair thought was his *sister*, and her mother his mother. Look, it was almost twenty years ago, OK? 😅 --- I actually had a whole scene written in DAI where Fiona tells him, but the requirements were so specific for them both to be in Skyhold and it seemed like it'd be relevant only to a small small sub-section of fans (and confusing to everyone else) so it was dropped. Rightfully so, I guess."

[source thread]

User: "The Buffy vibes were strong in DAO and I was very happy with that at the time. What I loved about DAO was the mix of dark themes entwined with bits of levity. That's how I like my angst. Dark, broody with a side of ha-has and y'all delivered in DAO for sure." David Gaider: "That's a me thing. I like going dark - really dark - and then pairing it with light, comedic moments. It provides peaks and valleys in the tone, and prevents either from becoming overwhelming. Hey if it worked for Shakespeare (alas, poor Yorrick), it can work for DA, right? 😉" [source]

[ithebookhoarder]

If your still taking requests could u pls do “if you were taken by an unsub” criminal minds imagin? Or smth along those lines, if not that’s fine tho

~ ☘️

(BAU Headcanons) If you were taken by an Unsub

A/N: Um, of course you can?! Thanks for sending this one in angel 😇 I'm only sorry it's taken me this long to answer this. Hope you like it!

Warnings: Usual Criminal Minds references to criminals, murder, violence etc. Mentions of mental health. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

If you were taken? This man would not rest until you were back and safe with him - and not just because of what happened to Haley (though it doesn’t help). 

He would bark orders at everyone in a cold and blunt manner that tells them he is not in the mood to be messed with.

They will do as they are told and they will do it now. 

This poor man would be fighting not to let his fear show but he'd be seen clenching his fists over and over and taking long deep breaths in front of the mirror in the bathroom in an attempt to ground himself and get his head on straight. 

He's no good to you if he lets himself fall apart. His team - and more importantly, you - are counting on him.

You know he’s blaming himself and you’re both going to need therapy once this whole experience is over with. 

He would go into his hyper-rational mode, focusing on making plans and ignoring anything that isn’t getting you back safe and sound - which means no sleep. None. He’s running on fumes and caffeine - even after you’re found. 

It would take days for him to feel secure enough to close his eyes and be able to trust you’ll still be there when he opens them again. 

Also you best believe he is breaking out his old law text books and ensuring this UnSub goes down for a lonnnnnng time… if they even make it to trial that is. This man is a trained sniper and knows other trained snipers… just saying… 

David Rossi 

He may like to remind you all of his passionate Italian nature from time to time but it’s impossible to miss when he hears what’s happened to you. He’s an emotional mess, staggering between horror and rage to a frighteningly cold determination that is rare for the eldest team member.  

He’d try to act in control, pulling rank on everyone - including Hotch, which obviously doesn’t work. 

“No offence, Aaron, but I was chasing down Unsubs when you were still in diapers. I know what I’m doing.”

However, they know him well enough to see that despite having years of experience under his belt, Rossi is terrified of making some kind of mistake. 

Once they do find you, he’d be one of the first through the door, too concerned with checking you’re ok to worry about anything else. 

He’d also be sure to pay for the best medical care money could buy, if you needed it following the ordeal.

He also knows people and has no problem paying for you to see a counsellor of some sort if the situation required it. He just wants to take care of you now that you’re back in his arms again. 

Derek Morgan

This man is like a whole military unit in himself at the best of times, but he’s a whole other level of lethal when it comes to protecting the ones he loves. You do NOT want to be on the wrong side of Morgan, and that’s exactly where the Unsub who took you would sit. 

There isn’t a door he wouldn’t be willing to kick down to get you - and everybody knows better than to say a word about it. (Hotch is already mentally filling out all the paperwork he’s going to need once this rescue is done, but he doesn’t exactly mind, given the situation).

Also, Morgan may have trained you himself, drilling you in self-defence and marksmanship so you’d known how to protect yourself out there in the field, but none of that matters now. You may have the Unsub at your mercy already, or you may be at theirs, but he doesn’t know and that’s what’s killing him: the not knowing. 

It’s why Penelope is basically glued to his side the whole entire time, telling him everything she finds out the very second she finds it.  

“We’ll find them sugar, I promise. They’re just as tough and strong as you are, so don’t give up on them, ok?”

He’d be leading the pack once you are found though, tearing through anyone and anything that stood in his way. All he cares about is seeing you with his own eyes and getting you as far away from danger as possible. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. It’s my job to keep you safe and I failed you.”

He’d be beating himself up for weeks after and it would take an entire team intervention to get him to let you go back out into the field again without him being glued to your side. After all, he’s not making the same mistake twice. Any Unsub wants that wants to get close to you will have to get past him first. 

Emily Prentiss

This woman is a super spy and a lethal weapon on an average day but if you were taken? Then she would be the most dangerous woman in the entire United States. 

She knows people in every agency and on every continent so you best believe she will be calling in favours left, right and centre. (Even Rossi is terrified by how quickly she was able to get the Pentagon on the phone…)

She would also be action-focused, needing to do something rather than sitting around wasting time. Every minute spent talking was one more minute the Unsub had to hurt you - and that thought makes her feel physically sick. 

This would end up causing her to explode, taking it out on whichever unfortunate soul is closest. Like, you know she would definitely have to be reminded by Hotch that they actually need the local law enforcement to work with them, if they want to get you back alive, after she is seen screaming at an unfortunate officer for their ‘utter stupidity��. 

Thankfully, she gets to turn that rage on the Unsub after they find you. I mean, let’s be real. It would take Morgan physically holding her back to stop her from beating their face in. 

This frustration would ultimately then be transferred to you, once she knows you’re safe. 

You almost can quote her ‘You almost died’ speech by this point, but you know it makes you both feel better to hear it so you let her rant and rant until she’s calm enough to crawl into your arms and squeeze you close. 

“I love you so much. I can’t lose you.” 

You’re also pretty sure she now has people following you at all times, watching over you when she can’t, so that this never happens again. 

JJ

JJ is every bit as lethal as Emily is when those she loves are at risk. If anything, she’s more terrifying because she’ll hide that murderous rage behind a ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt’ smile before deciding to strike. 

However, it would take everything in her not to just charge in and go on the offensive. After all, she was willing to run into a bank full of armed robbers after Will. 

It would probably end up with the team having to physically holding her back to stop her - usually accompanied by a well meaning pep talk about how she needs to get her head on straight if she actually wants to help get you back. 

You know this woman would follow you everywhere afterwards, never letting you out of her sight. In fact, she hits ‘super Mom mode’ where she is constantly fussing over you and seems to have the world in her go-bag. 

You need tissues, pain-killers, chocolate: she got it.

“Hey, it’s ok. You know I’ve got your back, right? I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’re safe now.”

She would also call you out on all your BS, if you tried to downplay what happened to you or if you were still affected. 

One twitch of her eyebrow is all it takes for her to have you pinned to your chair and spilling your guts about your emotions. You know better than to make her ask twice. After all, she may be the first to downplay it when she’s hurting but when it comes to her team and her family, she’d do anything to take care of you. If that’s driving your ass to therapy or just holding you, she’ll do it without complaint.

Penelope Garcia 

Would immediately panic as soon as she hears what’s happened to you. Like, we’re talking SO much panic.

Poor girl is spiralling and needs the team to help ground her so she can get back to the lair and do her thing. It would probably be down to Morgan or like JJ to get her to actually remember to breathe and not make herself pass out. 

But once she’s up and running? Well, she’d be all over the Unsub like a bad rash. Every teeny tiny detail of their life is suddenly unearthed and splashed on the 

board for everyone to see. (No one dares ask how she found certain items, but knowing her history with the dark web it’s probably for the best). 

Also, she would be begging for constant updates once the team is out in the field.  Any other day, it would drive the team insane to have a constant running Penelope monologue in their ears, but they’re surprisingly tolerant in this case. 

“Guys, do you see them? Are they ok? What’s going on? I need to know people! I have no eyes here!” 

Would be all over you once you’re safe and insists on installing tracking software on everything. She wants a digital link to you, 24/7 so that this NEVER happens again. It’s simultaneously flattering and slightly terrifying how much power this angel has at the end of her glittery, manicured fingers. 

Dr Spencer Reid

Depending on which season-Reid you’re with when you’re taken, you would have a distraught super genius who makes it his life’s mission to get you back. Or, you’d have a prison-hardened super genius with a slightly grey-er view of the world on a mission to find you. 

Either way, there’s probably no one you’d want more to be in charge of locating and rescuing you. 

Like Hotch, I feel he would become obsessed with nothing other than finding you. He wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t sleep. Hell, no one on the team has even seen him leave the briefing room long enough to go pee, let alone take a break. This results in the team all taking it in turns to be parental figures and coax (and eventually threaten) him into pausing long enough to down a glass of water and eat some snack bar. 

Between Morgan’s physical threats, JJ’s guilt-trips, and Hotch threatening to bench him from this case, they’d eventually succeed. 

“You guys don’t get it. They need me. I have to figure this out - they’re counting on me. I can’t fail them. I won’t. So either help me or get out of here and let me think.”

We all know he would probably harass any medical professionals charged with caring for you, once you’re back. He doesn’t trust them - especially when it comes to your welfare. 

He’d also confine you to the couch and force you to rest, queueing up endless re-runs of Doctor Who and whatever shows you find most comforting to have playing in the background. It’s selfishly what he needs too, being able to sit and hold you long enough to quell any fears he may have about you and your wellbeing. You’re here and you’re real and you’re safe. 

Masterlist

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

A long overdue update:

Hi everyone. Long time no see. I literally have not opened Tumblr since the last time I posted here. Hope everyone is doing ok. Figured I owed y’all an apology and explanation for kinda just vanishing.

First, I did in fact get a car! It’s a 2015 Nissan Versa Note. I don’t particularly like it but a friend gave me a deal on it that I couldn’t turn down. Once my life stabilizes I’m probably going to sell it and buy an old truck, maybe a 70s Ford. I’d love a little sports car or a land yacht but rear wheel drive is a bit impractical for brutal New England winters, and the Jeep really put me in Old American Truck Mode. But yes I have a car now!

Second, unfortunately this is an official notice of hiatus. When I last posted saying I was taking some time off it was because I had just had an incredibly stressful move and did not have the energy to keep this blog up. I figured I’d take some time to get settled in, relax, and then pick this back up after a week or two, but the last month has been really rough - the short version is one of the people I was living with turned out to be a pretty horrendous human being who managed to get everybody living in the house essentially kicked out via sheer drama. Within a month and a half. It’s a long story but tl:dr if you quite literally slander a property manager with heavy unfounded accusations of horrible crimes, they’ll probably bail from the whole situation. And since they’re gone the landlord has to hand ownership of everything over to a company that’s forcing everyone still here to vacate. I’m now fighting to not have to live in aforementioned Nissan Versa through the aforementioned brutal New England winter. On top of that, I’m a retail manager so we’re going into our busiest most stressful season, so that’s been an extra level of exhaustion.

So what does that mean for this blog? Well, as I said, I’m officially going on indefinite hiatus, as are the projects I was working on in relation, including the reference website. I’m really sorry, I’m just way too stressed and dealing with way too much. If I could, I would just hand off administrative power to someone else, but this is a sideblog so I can’t hand off login credentials without also giving access to my main/personal account. It’s my biggest regret of this account, but when I started it I never expected it to blow up the way it did back in September - I had no reason to expect to need it to be its own entirely separate blog. I love what I was doing here and I thought that it might even be a nice distraction from everything going on, but the upkeep required with this blog is just more than I can deal with right now. I hope that things settle down soon and that I can genuinely come back here and enjoy what I was doing, but I just need literally anything to level out in my real life and to not be in 100% survival mode, because at the moment I literally do not have the energy to pour into this.

Anyway. Sorry for the long post, I’m not good at not being overly verbose. I’m really sorry for kind of abandoning this project, and I hope I can get back to it relatively soon, it just might be a while.

In the mean time, I hope those of y’all who I turned onto cars as a potential hobby find some other good outlets! I highly recommend Donut Media’s series “Up to Speed” on YouTube, as well as the channels Regular Car Reviews, Doug DeMuro, Garbage Time, and Aging Wheels. All great YouTube channels that are both informative and very approachable and fun.

Godspeed and much love. Hope to see y’all soon

- Identifying Cars in Posts admin ❤️

[saltandfire-blog]

All Time Favorite Lucemond Fics

Thought I’d post some baddies to help us heal from this last season.

ñuhon - When Lucerys lives and wakes up to oblivion, Aemond decides that—more than an eye for an eye—Lucerys in his entirety would be for Aemond to completely own.

In other words: Omega Lucerys survives yet loses his memories, and Alpha Aemond takes his revenge on him creatively.

Holy fuck, this might actually be one my favorite fics of all time. INCREDIBLY well written and perhaps one of the most tragic/romantic lucemond pieces I’ve ever read. I also find myself adoring the Daeron/Joffrey dynamic that is unexpectedly thrown in that I didn’t know I wanted.

all I had to give - Lucerys has waited for Aemond to find him again since his fall. He is only surprised it took this long.

I think this was technically my first a/b/o lucemond verse fic that blew my heart away. Aemond and Luke’s portrayal in this might actually be my favorite. And the added Alysmond is a +❤️

real gods require blood - Before King Viserys I Targaryen draws his last breath, the Greens make their move. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family find themselves prisoners in the Red Keep, cut off from their dragons and at the mercy of a new king.

Terrified of what fate awaits his family, Lucerys Velaryon turns to the only person at court willing to help him, no matter the price he has to pay.

Or: Lucerys offers himself in exchange for his family’s safety. Aemond could never refuse.

Not only is this fucking incredible to read, it might be my favorite smutty fic out there. The dialogue between Aemond and Luke just hits sooooo amazingly, this is one of those fics I go back to regularly to reread. I await the authors part 2 of this with baited breath!

Consanguinity - When the bastard Addam of Hull claims Seasmoke, it throws House Velaryon into disarray. All except Corlys, who spies the perfect opportunity to help his heir out of the delicate situation he has found himself in with an impromptu suggestion.

Though quite why Prince Aemond seems so affronted by the match is anyone’s guess.

Speaking of fics I go back to reread - this is definitely another one!! @nashiriel is an absolutely incredible writer and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this! I don’t like to spoil other people’s work…but I love a pregnant Lucerys a/b/o verse with a deliciously angsty twist ❤️

Divenire - Lucerys survives Storm's End however now he needs to survive Aemond, his obsession over a debt paid and the Dance of the Dragons.

This is one of the first Lucerys/Aemond fics that blew my mind. Is it insanely demented and toxic? Yes. Is it amazingly well written? YES! You decide if it’s your cup of tea, but I always return back to this one every once in a while when I want a pure hate no happy ending fic.

Heir of the Tides series - In 120 AC, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye to his nephew. In 129 AC, he demands the price to be paid.

Later on, Lucerys Velaryon will tell his mother that it was a fair exchange. (or, the author went out and wrote the eye fic she so wanted to read).

I admit, I am an absolute sucker for the idea of Luke taking his own eye out. Add on top of that a Luke who takes more of a role in his Velaryon inheritance - and can’t forget the battle of the Gullet 🤌🏻 !! Definitely a series to invest in.

Life for life, eye for eye - Aemond finds his nephew, somehow surviving the death of his dragon over Shipbreaker Bay, washed ashore, an empty socket where his right eye should be. The message, to Aemond, is obvious: the gods have given Luke to him, to do with him as he sees fit.

Meanwhile, when Luke wakes up, prisoner to his uncle, his world quickly narrows to one thing and one thing alone: surviving, so he can return to his mother, and the rest of his family, alive.

--

In which Aemond surpasses Daemon for title of 'worst uncle' by several miles and Luke suffers.

Ok so please beware, this is about as dark as it gets. If you’re triggered easily, this isn’t the fic for you. It explores extreme Lima and Stockholm syndrome forsure, but if you’re into this ship I’m sure you must know it consists of a broad spectrum of very dark, toxic fics, and this is one that just so happens is amazingly well written. Please keep in mind, if you don’t like, don’t fucking read.

Portrait of a Prince on Fire - Ser Luke Strong, legitimised bastard of the lord of Harrenhal, has found favour at the sumptuous court of Viserys I as a court painter. But he is also Lucerys Waters, unacknowledged bastard of Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. The secret of his true parentage and the life he could’ve had eats him up, and he drowns his regrets in drink and brawling.

Prince Aemond hasn’t been seen outside court since he lost his eye, over a decade ago. Now he is about to be wed — and the king commissions Luke to paint the portrait that will be sent to Aemond’s betrothed.

They hate each other at first sight — but as Viserys lies dying, the portrait sets them on a collision course that will send them spiralling inexorably together. And as the realm descends into war, they will have to decide whether to hold on to each other as the world they knew begins to shatter.

Another fic I am completely obsessed with! @fruitageoforanges has probably written one of my all time favorite portrayals of Aemond and I love the refreshing take on Lucerys I’ve never seen done before in this ship. A 17th century AU that has an awesome amount of fashion I adore and is an absolute must read 😉❤️

Star-Crossed - Lucerys is taken captive by the Greens after his fall. When Aemond is assigned as his constant guard, and so constant companion, the romance that blooms between them spins the Dance of the Dragons on its head.

Or: two young lovers from rival factions of the royal family come together in a violent world.

I can’t list off lucemond fics without giving this one an honorable mention.

Dirección de la Luz - A decade had passed since Hwa Yeong was exiled from Yin. He had traveled through the entire empire three times and still had not found his death.

Until one day he met the dragon prince.

Or: Pregnant and solely with the company of his dragon Arrax, Lucerys Velaryon travels to the Yi Ti Empire and begins a new life away from his family and Aemond Targaryen.

A fic published in Spanish, but there is a translated version linked or you can translate yourself as I found myself doing because this story drew me in SO hard I couldn’t wait for the translator to update lol. This is such an original idea and SO fascinating to read with the authors portrayal of Yi Ti culture with such amazing detail!! I can’t give this author enough praise and encouragement to keep going!

the beast you’ve made of me - Lucerys Velaryon is no coward. He is frightened. He is alone. He is a bastard. He is a prisoner of a war he would do anything to stop. But he is no coward.

Lucerys survives Shipbreaker Bay. Aemond is baptised in the storm. This is the aftermath.

If you want Team Green Lucerys, this is your story. When you have to join the enemy to save your family with long term goals, Luke really goes through it in this one, but the political seesaw between his love for Aemond and his family is fabulous to read unfold 🤌🏻

Hope I’ve given you guys some beauties to read if you haven’t already 💎🗡️🩸

Lucemond is a beautiful, terrible place 😉

(Tried to @ as many as I could that are here on tumblr)

[shytastemakerthing]

Congrats on 300!!! 🎉

May I have an order of Caramel Raspberry boba with a bit of sleepy lion prince please? 🦁 Also is it ok if the execution of the confession is humorous & silly? Thank you!

A/N: Hello and thank you for this request and for the congrats! One order of a confession with the sleepy lion coming right on up! Enjoy!

Prompt: 300 follower event

Theme: Romantic Confession with Leona Kingscholar

Tw: None

It really wasn't supposed to be this hard, working on a confession, but how exactly were you to put such strong feelings into words, especially when these feelings are going to be expressed to a certain lazy lion who seemed to be just as emotionally constipated? Not to mention, it wasn't as if you could really go to anyone to help you out with such a feat. Ace would tease you, no doubt. Deuce would mean the best, but in the end it would be a no-go. There was always Rook, the man who always waxed poetic every moment you saw him but you knew without a doubt he would go too overboard.

You were stuck.

Countless nights awake, slouched over a piece of paper, many more crumpled on the floor around you, the trash overflowing with failed letters of confession.

Perhaps it was time you take advice from the number of rom-coms you had seen and just go full in.... but could you really do that?

Chances are, your heart would combust on the spot.

Another sleepless night.

When did you get to the botanical gardens?

Ah, that's right, Professor Crewel's assignment for the day, had you really zoned out for that long?

This stupid confession had been plaguing every bit of your waking moments.... and even in your sleeping ones.

With a sigh, you discarded your bag before kneeling down to gather what was currently required, hands deep in the mid, the ferocity at which you were taking it all up coating your face and clothing in sprinkles of it.

Grumbling, there was a particularly difficult herb as you anchored yourself down, pulling with all your might, only to yelp as soon as it yanked free, causing you to loose your balance, falling flat on your back.

But that wasn't the worst part, no. If the shadow that was now looming over you was anything to go by, the tale-tell lion ears, those beautiful emerald green eyes you had grown to love, you just had to fall flat on your back, covered in mud, in front of none other than Leona Kingscholar.

At this point, you just wished that the ground would swallow you whole as you sat up rather quickly, trying to scramble to your feet, hoping that he couldn't hear that furious beating of your heart, but if that slight grin that was on his face was any indication, he possibly could.

"Falling for me already?"

Oh, you have no idea........

The air was rather quick to change, the grin falling from his face, body seeming stiff and still.... did... did you just say that out loud?

"I swear, I had this planned out a lot better than this..."

Your voice seemed too small yet too loud at the same time as his silence certainly didn't help with the current situation.

Just as you were about to high tail your way out of the gardens, his hand had grasped your wrist and he spun you back around to face him.

Wait... was he... blushing?

"Don't you leave me now, Herbivore. I hope you know what you're doing, cause you're stuck with me now."

Thank you so much for your request! I hope that this was okay, a full one shot is certainly an area that I am still working on ^_^

Have a wonderful day/night!

[bessiejoan]

Astrology: How trauma affects communication via Mercury

Warning - Content may be triggering. Reach out to those who love you and medical professionals when you need.

Aries Mercury - They grew up in a loud atmosphere, with lots of yelling. Possibly had one “leader” or “dictator” in their childhood home that they felt they had to obey. They grow up believing that they need to communicate quickly and loudly or else they risk never being heard. For people who felt they were not allowed to play loudly as children, play is healing later in life.

Taurus Mercury - Someone else always came before them. They had to learn to be patient and wait for their turn to speak. Their survival was determined by your ability to cooperate and choose the right alliances. They saw that trusting the wrong person could be detrimental to their wellbeing. Keeping their language neutral and friendly was most palatable for their parents. Music, singing, and healing the throat chakra is healing for these people.

Gemini Mercury - If they were smart enough, they would be praised. When things got too much, they learnt that they could throw themselves in books and mysterious. Their parents or the adults around them had different communication styles, so they had to learn to pick up different styles of communication in order to get their needs met. They also learnt that looking good and pleasing to the eye would help them relate better to others. At its worst, Gemini mercury learnt to use information in exchange for power or leverage, such as gossiping and rumour spreading. Humour is healing for these people.

Cancer Mercury - It’s hard for them to process and move on from what happened, so speaking about it can feel very real and present in their body. It’s often on the mind, and as a result, they limit their communication. When they do speak, they can overwhelm others with the amount that comes out. Learning to be ok with their own voice and narrative above what others say is healing. Also , drink water.

Leo Mercury - As a child, the communication around them was excessive and over the top. They learnt that to avoid punishments or drama, it is best to take control of the situation and shut it down quickly. Others couldn’t always be there to care for them, so they had to become hyper self-sufficient. You had to learn things by themselves, and as a result, they don’t do well in group settings such as class rooms, unless they’re in charge. They’re better at grasping attention from men than women or gender diverse people. They may have strived for their fathers attention from a very young age. Letting their fire out via creativity is healing.

Virgo Mercury - Every move they made was criticised and resulted in punishments. To survive, they needed to absorb this style of thinking for themselves and those they love. They think that if they’re hyper aware, they can prevent anything bad from ever happening again. There are a lot of thoughts and concerns directed at their body. Healing their mind and their body simultaneously is paramount. This is why the physical work required with animals can be so healing for them. Also - eat well.

Libra Pisces - Criticised for making mistakes or not appearing as others thought they should, they learnt to cover up their mistakes and insecurities by pretending everything is fine. They’ll do better than fine, they’ll speak a whole PR performance about how fine everything is... Allow them space to be imperfect. Finding the beauty in their mistakes is healing.

Scorpio Mercury - Defiant and secretive, the trauma is in the eyes. They can not take back all that they have seen, but they’ve also been taught to hide it. They may avoid eye contact in an attempt to avoid an argument. Their eye contact is intense when they want others to hear their pain. They didn’t have strong parental figures, so they learnt to be independent and in control of themselves. Growing up, people around them weren’t always truthful or honest. This has left them with a feeling of always seeking the truth. They were led to believe that their emotions were too much for others. However, these intense emotions never leave them, they just learn to hide or redirect intense thoughts in secretive ways. Self compassion is the key to healing.

Sagittarius Mercury - Naturally intelligent, they received more attention and praise at school than at home. They aim big and far away as a way to avoid addressing the present situation. As a result they don’t address the repressed hurt that pushed them to run away or towards that thing so far away. The more they heal from the past, the bigger the future truly becomes.

Capricorn Mercury - Their parents were practical and analytical. They were put to work at a young age, either around the house or in a family business. Their parents weren’t emotionally open or affectionate, as a result their tone of voice is blunt and controlled. Ruled by Saturn, the planet of fear, there was a sense of fear at a primary age when they were first learning to speak. Working in what they love is healing and where they find joy. Also - move them bones.

Aquarius Mercury - Their language can somethings sounds strange or unusual, such as a lisp, a stutter, mumbling, or jumbles words. They detached from their voice when they detached from their body as a way to survive. Now they swing between detachment via humour and avoidance, and to re-experiencing the emotions in a flash. The more they analyse everything outside of them the better, it avoids turning the analysing inwards on themselves. Escaping into nature is healing and helps to quieten the mind, in order for the bigger issues to be healed.

Pisces Mercury - The dissociation struggle is real. Difficulty listening and following along with others that are speaking. Due to fearing that they may say the wrong thing, they learnt that it’s better to give vague, indirect responses. They learnt that it was better to be able to back peddle than say something blunt that can’t be taken back. The freedom to experience self expression is healing. The more that comes out of them, the more internal space to absorb new information and communication clearly.

*Consider Pluto/Saturn in Air Houses or Pluto/Saturn aspecting Mercury and/or Air houses.

[crescenthistory]

Ok not a request but I loved the recent regulus fic with “where is she?”. I can just picture snape showing up in the infirmary the next day just fully bandaged and in casts all thanks to Barty and Evan

THANK YOU i really loved writing that one, hurt/comfort is my shit, especially with someone wound so tight like regulus. something about losing control you know?

and absolutely – as soon as you are out of the infirmary, your bed is taken over by snape for his egregious crime. as is the next one over by avery, for being involved in the situation. beside him is mulciber, for trying to protect his "friends", and any others who got in the way.

regulus is barty's oldest friend; any turmoil he feels must be avenged. reader is the one barty treasures perhaps most; any violence against them must be reciprocated. as for evan, he has that quiet, simmering, unwavering loyalty, both for reader and regulus, but of course, above all else, barty. even if he didn't particularly care for you, he would have followed barty on his almost-murder spree – but when you, someone who always holds space for him and understands him, is all but gutted on school property by buffoons? and not even with a purpose or methodology, just out of pure stupidity? he is not just supporting barty nor satiating some twisted fascination, he is revelling in the opportunity to protect you after-the-fact.

say what you want about those two, call them unhinged, maniacal, disturbing, but they are and will remain pack animals. they protect their own.

they do wait, though. not with the threats, nor possibly the restraining or light maiming of the offending parties, but with any level of repercussions that require immediate medical attention. because there is no way in hell they are going to let those sods near you anytime soon.

i also think you have to keep insisting and reminding them for the next foreseeable future that you did not die:

"when snape killed treasure" is a common point of reference for barty.

"i want nothing to do with that murderous bastard" "he didn't murder me, barty" "you don't know what you're talking about"

"i'm literally sitting here, breathing, right now" "i still hear her voice sometimes"

evan would always position himself between you and snape in a room, even if he genuinely never had anything against you specifically nor would risk the injuries himself

while you roll your eyes affectionately at their theatrics, it actually does unnerve regulus

he is still largely affected by the whole thing, the thought of losing you a sore topic (sorer than it already was, that is)

only when you give evan and barty a look before nodding inconspicuously at regulus do they quiet down

though they never truly let it go

barty would definitely reference your "death" in his best man speech at your wedding sorry

[reverie-obsessingtime]

Is Jiaoqiu a Self-Annihilator?: an analysis into the Self-Annihilator condition (with Acheron and Jiaoqiu as case studies)

Soooouuuu pink fox man huh so pretty right? Sure nothing sad going on in the background..... *sobs*

This be the kind of brainrot you get as a Acheron main and Jiaoqiu haver 😮‍💨 :,)

sighs....WE ARE BACK IN THE BUILDING AGAIN!!!😭

Ok ok, enough fooling around let's get to business *rolls sleeves*. I'm gonna be using S-A for short to refer to Self-Annihilators through all this cause it's a mouthful to write.

TRIGGER WARNING: this post tackles depression and speaks of the nihilistic feelings it brings. It's not too major but if talking about stuff like this can be triggering, please advance with caution.🙏

What does it mean to be a Self-Annihilator? And the similarities between Acheron and Jiaoqiu's stories

Tldr: basically to have severe depression but much worse! :D (yaaaaay! :D)

From the ever so gracious Data Bank, S-A are described as people who have unintentionally but ireversibile stepped into the shadow of IX

To better understand these flowery words by giving Acheron as an example:

When it comes to Acheron, she stepped into THEIR shadow when it all lost meaning to her. She fought against the kami with other blades only for everyone to die. She managed to finally slay the kami but at what price? Why could that sword only be forged from this situation? Why did all have to be swallowed by naught for this blade to be made? What was the point of all this fighting and struggle if it all ultimately ended this way? If the ending never existed? If they all walked into IX shadow a long time ago?

Two worlds how pointlessly fought against one another, only for the ending to be even more pointless.

Because of all this trauma, like all soldiers coming back from a pointless war that had to witness all their fellow soldiers die, Acheron developed severe depression aka unintentionally stepped into IX shadow.

Depression isn't something you actively choose or agree with, it (annoyingly) chooses you and clings to you all the time and whispers in your year even when you don't agree with it anymore or actively try to fight against it.

You develop it from trauma (also H2O is water) and even when you are out of the environment that traumatized you, even when life is going great for you, when you have a limitless future ahead of you, it still exists and clouds ur judgement about those said things. It is something that you are stuck with. It's illogical nihilism and is sadly very hard to shake off...

But you CAN do it. Acheron and the other Self-Annihilators are proof.

There are two types of S-A: the ones who give up and succumb to it and the ones who fight back. Much like in real life (sadly)

Acheron is someone with severe depression who, despite it being uncureable, chose to show defiance against the predicament it brings by fighting back against it and actively trying to prove it wrong. Wrong not to herself, cause she knows THEIR wrong, but to prove THEM wrong to THEMSELVES.

How does this all connect to Jiaoqiu's story?: A Moment Among the Stars and Character Story Analysis

Both Acheron and Jiaoqiu have trauma from war, war that asks them "what was the point of everything you've done in the end?"

For Acheron:

What was the point of fighting if the ending was predetermined?( "Even if the ending is predetermined, that's fine. There are countless things that humans cannot change. But before the end, there are many things that humans can do while on their journey.")

For Jiaoqiu?

....

"While the Alchemy Commission is a good place to be, it is ultimately not compatible with my wish to practice medicine for the masses. The one place that requires a healer the most is undeniably the battlefield where the Yaoqing's forces are."(-Character story I)

And mah man was NOT ready for what the battlefield will ask of him and his master knew this but sadly also knew he couldn't stop the ambitious youth so he let him go. ("The elder looked as though he wanted to talk the youth out of his decision, but he ultimately decided against it.")

"A healer's purpose is to mend wounds and save lives. You pull the dying from death grip....only to see them march back into it. Saving one person is child's play. Saving the world is as hard as reaching the heavens. Do I press forward, or run away?"

Faces with this, Jiaoqiu can't help but be consumed by nihility. Question what's the point? My purpose as a healer is to save them from death grip but despite me doing that they will have to go charging back into it again and again until I can no longer save them. Doesn't that make my actions are, ultimately, pointless? I save them from death, give them hope and then they have to go back out there again and have it ripped away by an arrow. The hope of victory, of living to see it, of making it, I give it to them by saving them from death and then they have to die anyway but live through the pain of the hope I gave then being ripped away from them along with their lives.

So why save them? Give them hope? If they are gonna ultimately die? Why just not let them die at this point? And if I do that? Then what's my purpose? My purpose is to be a healer and save them from death no matter how many times but I just CAN'T bring myself to do it anymore faced with the pointlessness of it...

( -Jiaoqiu.... probably.....for legal and anti-missinfo-spreading reasons he, in fact, did not say all that)

Saving one is easy, but saving them all from death grip? Not so. Faced with the weight of that? Does he keep going or run away? Should he keep going through the pain of the pointlessness of it all or run away from it(like a coward, because it's too much)?

"You can't help but ask yourself... How does a healer heal himself?

Faces with all this nihility, he is at loss as just HOW to heal himself, the healer, amidst all this. Jiaoqiu's at an impasse, not knowing what to do, emotions conflict with each other.

"They answer with victory- Every life saved makes for the salvation of all."

"They" probably refers to all the soldiers, the ones that got healed and made it, the ones who didn't and the ones on the bed getting bandaged up.

Which is interesting. Interesting because despite them giving this answer, he still hasn't returned to the battlefield.

"Those I saved only ended up as another dead soul when they dived head-in back into the battlefield. I prefer to no longer engage in such futile efforts." ( -Jiaoqiu Character Story IV)

That despite being given the answer, the scars and terrors of the past will not make it easy to accept it or march forward with it. And that's ok. That is human and ok.

We don't actually know when he was given this answer, if it was after he started working on Feixiao or not. (something to further note on)

"Now you must make another choice... Will the result of this treatment be "life" or "death"? Are you ready to face the end... Jiaoqiu?"

Here he is probably talking about Feixiao. The choice he made to return, in a way, back to the battlefield, the place that traumatized him so much he accidentally walked into IX shadow. Only this time, it's for one person only.

Will he be able to heal her or will she die? And is he ready to face the conclusion of the case that is Feixiao, whatever that conclusion and the answer it gives might be?

The physical changes that come with being a Self-Annihilator and the suspicious desing choices in Jiaoqiu

WOOOOOOO welcome to section two of this analysis that is gonna be so much more easy for me

Now, let's have a refresher of physical and other changes that come with being a S-A:

-skin turn into something like rotten wood, full of holes and scars

-endocrine system disrupted

-becoming unable to distinguish between pleasure and pain and turning numb to everything

-loss of memories

-loss of senses

-corporeal body, mental cognition, and personal memories will gradually fade away

(Ik what makes me violently rage? WHY ISN'T HAIR TURNING WHITE IN HERE!?!?!?!)

Now based on all of that and using Acheron as comparison (while being mindful that her Emnator powers might make some parts of her S-A different) let's look at Jiaoqiu and take some notes:

-both her and Jiaoqiu have two white hair streaks that are in the same place just mirrored.

-in Jiaoqiu's lightcone description he asks himself "How many springs has it been?" suggesting that he MIGHT have memory problems like Acheron.

-in his character story IV Jiaoqiu says the spicy food boarders on pain and Owlbert commented that the pain might make him feel alive so maybe dulled senses as well (?)

-both of them have their hair turning white. While Acheron's Emnator powers make her able to hide it (refer to one of her idle's when she lets her guard down and her hair starts turning white) Jiaoqiu's hair is a light pink but not THAT light and you can see how the white hair fades into his normal not yet discolored hair. This change in hair is not recorded in the Data Bank oddly enough so we don't know how much time this takes to fully happen. 🤷😮‍💨

-lack of taste. Both Acheron and him can't taste the flavor of any food that isn't heavily spicy or strong in flavor. Acheron directly tells us that through the peach and her favorite drink being Wake the Heck Up. Jiaoqiu's like for spicy foods can easily be brushed as him just being a spice fanatic until you read his character story.

In the first one he eats lotus petals and comments "Sweet and refreshing, it delights the plate" showing a liking to them. But in IV he comments "Ugh, too bland" when eating them again. Even his master comments, "I remember you preferred bland food before joining the army." to which he responds "People... tend to change.".

The change comes from his III story, after Lan hit the battlefield with THEIR arrow, killing both enemies and soldiers. A moment that traumatized him so much that after it all died down, he felt cold from the inside and put EVERY spice he had into his cauldron and only then was he able to feel the taste

"When his already numbed sense of taste finally picked up on the spice, a jolt of current ran through him. He felt alive for the first time! It was a sensation that bordered on pain."

And all of these similarities, ARE FUCKIN SUSPICIOUS!😁😁

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

Tldr: I'm going insane (the end)

I hope Hoyo's headquarters burn down actually cause I'm tired of getting brainrots from these characters!!!😭

Hoyo literally allergic to leaving pink foxes alone (and melanin- HOW SAID THAT!?🫢)

Anyway who wants to join hands and pray in a circle for Jiaoqiu S-A confirmation cause at this point you don't make Acheron and this mf after and add all that to him with it being completely coincidence ESPECIALLY THE HAIR AND SPICY FOOD HOYO YOU BETTER CONFORM THIS OR ISTFG OSNDODBDODDBODDN

I'm so normal!!! 😁

Anywaaaayyy if you read this far thank you soooo *mwah* muuuuuch🙏 hearts and repost are very much appreciated as it keeps me posting here :,D If you liked this I have some other stuff posted that might pick ur interest. Ik I'm not the best at putting it all together in a neat way but I'm trying my best, I usually keep all this in my head 😅

May the sunlight brush your cheeks, flowers tickle ur skin and butterflies kiss ur nose! :)

[trendywaifus]

ok random thought so

I’m thinking abt those who look cute and innocent on the outside like they seem like such gentle beauties but when it comes to you….boy will they protect you to death…aka no one is coming for you when you sleep or vulnerable cuz these girlies would mean business in keeping their beloved (you) safe beside them

Mainly had firefly in mind…idk if Robin also fits..?

Yeah I may have a type

yeah firefly is a prime example of a sweetheart who can kill you. if you’re in grave danger—it’s morphin’ time!! she’s eradicating everything around you, no questions asked. nobody’s hurting her bby.

if the mission requires one of you to be on guard while the other sleeps, she’s volunteering to stay awake and watch over you. i can imagine firefly occasionally kissing your forehead with a soft smile on her face as checks in on you. as soon as she hears something suspicious, her face turns serious and she’s investigating the noise with her morpher and sword in hand. if it’s some enemy tryna sneak up, they’re COOKED.

as for robin, she may not possess any combat prowess or the heart to kill but she still can be fiercely protective over you when you’re in danger or vulnerable. she’ll use herself as a shield, oh boy, that woman is willing to take a hit for you. if the situation needs her to be awake while you’re sleeping then she will. she’s gonna protect you, even if she loses sleep or gets hurt.

[artificial-transmutations]

Can you believe it?

10.02.2024

Can you fucking believe it?

As most of you know, I'm working for LifeCorp, and you won't believe what they just did to me! I'm pissed!

My job is, apparently, becoming 'obsolete' with the whole AI thing bla bla bla. But! Of course, they don't want to fire me. Instead, they're offering me alternative positions. So far so good, right? But do you know which positions they offered me?

- Security Guard

- Janitor

- Escort

Not that bad, right? I mean I don't have the skillset for any of those, but that is apparently no problem, because these jobs come with a fucking mandatory life change if I take them?

Apparently, my usual charming self is not enough:

What kind of bullshit is this? Normal companies ask you to move if you want to keep your job, LifeCorp requires you take on a whole new body, just to keep working for them.

You think that's outrageous? It gets better. Apparently, none of those jobs is suitable for a woman. I can be a male security guard, a male janitor or a male escort. And when I complained about it, they just said that for security guard and janitor, a strong body is a requirement, and they have enough female escorts already. What a bunch of assholes! There's absolutely no way I'm gonna take one of those jobs.

Love, Tracy

***

14.02.2024

Have you seen LifeCorp's newest shit post? The valentine's day special? The audacity!

Stacy and Zara are now fricking men? No doubt they have been bullied to make that change. You know what this company has? A fucking frat-boy attitude. More and more people are becoming guys, "BeCaUsE tHeY wAnT tO". Bullshit. It's clear to me that the upper management wants to see more dick in their company. Probably a cocksucker like Stacy and Zara have become. I'll talk to them first chance tomorrow.

Oh, and Matthew? Why would anyone want to become a Latino?!

Love, Tracy

***

18.02.2024

Okay, I talked to Stacy and Zara (No, I won't call them "Steel and Zacharias", these are still women!). They were all "Oh, we're so much happier now" and "We're finally being our true selves" and "You should do the same, really."

It's a fucking brainwash. I mean, they haven't been right in their mind to begin with (they had the delusion of being a couple - ha! Couples are one man and one woman, nothing else!), but it's becoming veeery clear to me that they have been forced and brainwashed. And I will find proof for that!

Love, Tracy

***

18.02.2024 - 2

Okay, I'm fuming now. I told my boyfriend about that whole job situation. And you know what he said? You know what he fucking said?

"Ok. Do whatever makes you happy."

He just said "Ok" and was all cool about it! He even had the audacity to tell me that they didn't force me to do anything and that I could just find a new job if I didn't want any of that bodies.

But the best part is still to come. He said, and I quote, "Just make sure to ask them to make me gay if you take any of those jobs, so we can still be together." I mean... wow. That's a reason for a breakup just there. He's a fricking man, or at least that's what I thought up until now. The thought of becoming gay should have been something that made him sick!

But, oh no. He's fine with it. Disgusting! I need to re-think this relationship.

Love, Tracy

***

19.02.2024

I have a plan!

I'm going to accept one of LifeCorps offers. No, hear me out. I'm gonna accept - and then I'll sue them. Discrimination, kidnapping, something like that. I'm gonna be rich. Oh, and about my boyfriend? He's gonna have it his way. I'll make sure they make him the fag he begs to be and then break up with him. This'll teach him. Good thing he doesn't read this feed.

I'm just too clever for this world. Take that, LifeCorp!

Gonna take the janitor, though. With all their fake diversity and stuff, the guard and escort probably aren't even white.

Love, Tracy

***

22.02.2024

I just got a letter congratulating me on my choice and that they are happy to keep me as an employee. Ha. If these losers knew.

Love, Tracy

***

26.02.2024

Holy shit! How do you guys even walk with that thing?

Needless to say, I got my new body. Here's what I look like now:

Apparently, they meant it well with me, cause my new dick is just... enormous. And they gave me some huge balls to match it, too.

The muscles aren't all that bad, either - I just feel big and powerful all around. The hair will take some getting used to, but it's not for long, after all. After I sue them, I'll demand my original body back.

I do have to admit, I'm feeling good, though. So much more powerful, but calm and happy at the same time. I wonder if this is a guy thing or a me thing? Is that how my boyfriend feels all the time?

Oh, gosh. My boyfriend. He's probably gay already, so I should break up with...

But that would be really mean. Also, thinking about him just made my new member react. It's kinda straining my underwear now. These things really do have a mind of their own, right?

What was I writing about? Yes, my boyfriend. Why did I want to break up with him? I mean, he's just cute like a button, right? I just realize what a gigantic asshole I was, planning to break up with him. I'll have to apologize. Or, even better, I'll apologize by showing show him this huge package I got. That's what he wanted, right?

I should really go. Don't want to keep him waiting.

...

You know what? I think I'll try out this new life before I make any more rushed decision. So far, I enjoy being a dude a lot and I'm actually looking forward to my new job. And my new-old boyfriend. And they didn't even force me to do anything. Perhaps I should ask them to adjust my ethnicity later on, though - I feel a bit more adventurous now. Also, I think I'll go by Trace now. It's an unusual name, but I like it.

Sorry for being such an ass before. Well, speaking of ass - off to get some.

Bye!

- Trace

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

WAIT I HAVE A THOUGHT! ok i have two i think it could turn into more but price using his military rank to either a) get someone to back off of sunshine!reader and marissa OR b) sunshine calls him captain during sex OR c) HE USES IT IN BOTH OF THOSE SITUATIONS IN THE SAME FIC 👀👀 …are those weird? idk but if you feel up to it this is a request for you to work your magic on this please and thank you

A/N: uhm, don't look at me nonnie, I got too carried away🫣

Rank me

Summary; As a Captain, Price has an air of authority not everyone does. One day when he returns from base, he finally makes you admit why you find that trait of his particular attractive 

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 

Word count; 9.3k

Warnings; smut (18+, no minors please), captain!kink, vaginal fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight edging, d/s themes,

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

You sit opposite John, elbow resting against the armrest, head propped up by your fingers. He's seated in one of the two armchairs on the other side of your coffee table while you're sitting on your couch. A folder rests partly on the armrest of his seat and the unoccupied armchair beside him. A few more maps, although closed, were placed on the table. 

You're not nosy with John's work, so the seemingly inconspicuous folders aren't what's gotten your attention. The man reading through them does.

John's elbow relaxes on the armrest while his lower back is curved, sunken into his seat, legs spread with feet planted firmly on the ground. 

You'd tried to remind him of his posture, knowing he probably would complain about his back if he sat like that for too long. When you had, those blue eyes had flickered to yours with an appreciative look as he repositioned himself straight. However, he didn't last like that for long before slowly melting downwards again, retaking his 'I have a bad back but won't do anything about it pose'.

Although, as you now watch him working, it isn't a chide resting on your tongue.

John has returned to active duty, the past week being his first one back since he extended his issued downtime by a week after his most recent deployment, the one during late summer. You learned there's a big difference between active duty and deployed, never even coming close to either despite that martial course you took a few years back. The former meant you often were stationed on your home base, able to go back and forth home if you desired, much like ordinary work. The latter entailed 'a little field trip' as John worded it.

Today, John came to your place as soon as he got off from base, much like he'd done a few times during the week. 

You didn't fuss about spending less time with him than when he was on leave. Not only was it John's job, but there were no regulations for contacting him, so he called the days you didn't meet. Often, the description of his day was brief, only defined somewhat if anything varied from his typical routine. John was usually more interested in how you were and whether you'd done something interesting. If your day had been equally bland, he enjoyed just listening to whatever was on your mind. Today, however, no phone call replaced his absence.

You and John planned to spend the weekend together at your place, and much like he'd promised, he called you once on his way. But, rather than a simple heads-up, he also informed you he would bring some paperwork, his superiors pushing a last-minute request upon him as he was about to leave. You suspected he was permitted to leave base with the documents through his involvement in the 141, not solely because his response ideally -another word for required- would be reported back tonight. 

You've learned a great deal about how John likes to work, even if you've been fortunate to develop your relationship with him in a particularly deployment-free time window of his. 

He prefers keeping work and home separate, not wanting the two words to bleed together in favour of your relationship. John explained why when you didn't understand his frustration about bringing some work with him back home during your earlier call.

Deployments cut into your shared time as it fits, the two of you having to work around it rather than the other way around. Therefore, he intends to limit work to base to savour your time while on active duty or ahead of a leave. If that meant staying a day or so longer after returning from a mission where logistics needed to be taken care of, as he'd done during the summer and your first extended period apart, he said he would make that choice. And if there's an increased load of executive planning and paperwork due to an upcoming operation, his approach is the same.

He explained that, in the past, he'd very much blurred the lines, seeing how being alone and doing nothing for long periods left him restless. But with you in the picture, John tried to balance it. And just like that, you understood his dilemma tonight. He didn't want to make it a habit: filling the time he spent with you working.

You'd tried to compromise, not that you technically could, as he needed to finish his report no matter what. But, you tried to ease John's mind, telling him that sometimes it happened, just like it probably would for you. That was why you also proposed spending time in each other's company by working on your separate stuff, so he didn't feel like he took time away from you. 

For you, that was just fine. It had already been an informal workday for you, meaning no meetings and no contact with clients, simply organising stuff and getting ahead on projects for the upcoming week. Continuing with that for a bit longer was no problem.

Your sluggish day of labour was apparent, as you hadn't even changed out of your sleeping shirt. Neither had you scampered to get a pair of pants when John knocked on your door, favouring to simply greeting him as you were.

He'd been surprised at seeing your state of undressed, rather bare-legged with only underwear beneath his black t-shirt, one of those he left behind earlier during the week. 

Though not surprised like him, you were as delighted as all the other days he'd stopped by, spoiled rotten with seeing him dressed like this.

Like most days this week, that implied some getup per military standard. Today, John wore fitted cargo pants and an army sweater that got the quarter-zip open, offering a view of the tight-fitted shirt beneath it.

He'd greeted you in his same old fashion, a 'hello, love' as he stepped forward and over the threshold to meet you with a kiss. What followed, however, was a hummed 'can get used to bein' greeted like this' against your lips as he parted from you. 

He'd ushered you backwards to let him enter and hide you from any potential neighbours passing by your entrance to see your scantily clad figure.

You didn't object as he closed the door behind him and put down his bag before kneeling to unlace his heavy boots. Instead, your eyes had flittered over his haunched form as he rucked loose his laces before standing straight again, hooking the back of his shoes beneath his toes and stepping out of them. 

He'd followed you into your living room then, deciding to sit opposite you to avoid disturbing the corner you'd set up on the couch, where your computer and blue-light glasses waited. 

Currently, your laptop rests on a pillow in your lap. The glasses you'd invested in, purely because of the copious amount of time you spent before a screen through work, resting on the bridge of your nose. Yet, you're currently using neither as you should. 

The same black standby screen stares at you now as when you'd gone to greet John when he arrived two hours ago. And, your glasses don't serve their purpose of shielding your vision from electronic lights, concerning your attention is directed towards the burly figure of a man sitting so leisurely opposite you.

You hadn't seen John in his work clothes many times. Technically, you'd never seen him geared up and probably never would. So, the closest thing you would get was the standard dressing code he needed to adhere to on base. Up until this week, you'd barely even seen that.

Whereas now and for a few months ahead, the military would cling to him whenever he came around straight from work and spent the night, leaving in a similar-styled fashion in the morning concerning active duty often meant early mornings on base for John, either for a workout regime, meetings or supervising cadets. Between those instances, while unwinding with you, he changed into something more comfortable.

That was why your time of admiring John in these clothes was brief. And yet today, you got to indulge in one of the considerably fewer instances when he didn't immediately change after greeting you and borrowing your shower. In fact, this night was a total break in the routine.

Your eyes drop to the bag beside the armchair John occupies. 

He'd said he would take his usual post-work-freshening-up shower after finishing the most pressing report. But, he'd gotten stuck in the typical workflow that was difficult to break, reaching for another map of documents rather than the bag resting by his feet. Maybe you should've reminded him, but you didn't. 

The honourable reason? You didn't want to disturb John when noting the pile of documents to read had staggered to a measly two compared to the stack he'd brought. The selfish reason making your attention stray considerably more than his laser-focused one? You wanted to savour his appearance a bit longer. 

You knew the visible neckline of the shirt beneath his sweater teased about what was underneath, namely a compression shirt fitted to accentuate John's muscled torso rather than hide it, a sight drool-worthy by itself. But the jumper wasn't a villain for hiding it. In your opinion, it added to it, making the blue-eyed man appear even broader than he already was, as if he could envelop you simply with his frame, tucking you within the expanse of his shoulders. 

Despite how John managed to look so good in clothes produced for durability rather than fashion, it wasn't necessarily the clothes making you unable to rip your eyes off of him.

As always, your eyes drag over John's body until your gaze latches onto the embroiders littered over the sweater. 

On the upper part of his chest, in an easily read, nothing fancy, standard military font, the precise writing of Price is visible. The lettering, placed square in sight on his right pectoral, stands out in a lighter blue text rather than the dark navy composing the sweater. On the opposite side, in the same-letter style, SAS. Sewn onto the right arm of his jumper is a badge-like British flag, so his unit's emblem. Symbols stating his rank also adorn his clothing, marks that your civilian eye probably wouldn't be able to interpret if you didn't already know he was a Captain.

That is why you like seeing John in his work attire. 

The air around him changes. His typical calm stoicism tenfolds, acting as a reminder that his presence demands respect. 

It wasn't a shift that screamed for attention, not hollered as a command to notice. You believe it's because it simply blends with John's personality at home so well. Either his work-life had engrained it into his DNA, so it always was a part of him no matter where he went. Or those traits had always been his fortes, even before serving in the military. You didn't know for sure which was correct. 

Nonetheless, John's calm, secure and disciplined persona reached new heights. He looked like a man in charge. 

It was almost mortifying how affected you got when he dressed like this. And yet, it was just something about John in dark blue or army green attires, with his rank so underwhelmingly stated but so evidently sensed, that made a part of you quiver in excitement.

Yeah, that Captain John Price was a weakness of yours was clear as fucking day.

"You doing good over there, Captain?" Blue eyes shift from the papers he held over his lap to meet your gaze. 

You always revel in how swiftly his attention shifts to you when you use his rank. You didn't do it often. After all, at home, he wasn't Captain. But sometimes, even you used the alias. 

"Mm, all good, love". John's answer was slow, eyes flickering over you before nodding, his eyes falling to the paper before him again.

"The Captain fancying a cup of tea?" 

This time, John didn't move his head. He only glanced up, almost watching you through his eyebrows. "Wouldn't mind". The reply was short, his voice rough. Not grumpy, annoyed or anything like that. Simply profound.

You flash him a smile, pushing your computer aside and setting your glasses on the keyboard. As you stand from the couch, you stretch your legs. 

You catch John's eyes lowering and you bet he didn't abstain from trailing them down your bare legs as you jostle the tingles out of them. Smiling to yourself, you head into the kitchen.

Fine, sometimes you may use his rank solely for his reaction. 

You argue he shouldn't react like that. It's understandable he barely reacts to it when the boys of 141 use it just as much as his government name when addressing him. He must be used to it. So sure, surprise could be the reason in your instance. At the same time, it shouldn't, regarding it holds no value, no substance, when you use his rank.

Still, you've noticed it seemingly carries some weight.

The most common reaction you'd gathered was how swiftly you earned his attention. Nearly every time, you suppressed a grin at how it worked like clockwork. A sharp flicker of his eyes, gaze intense. You've also noticed how his head cock, eyes seemingly searching yours before they often slipped down your figure as he returned to whatever had his attention previously. And then it was how John eventually answered you. Sometimes, he cleared his throat before speaking, others not. Both choices provide a reply of comparable nature. Without exceptions, his voice was deep. 

John's smokey, baritone voice was always pleasant to listen to. There were no edges, even though he wasn't afraid to remain silent between his sentences. And when he filled those with the occasional hum, a purr threatened to spill from your lips to how the low cord melted like liquid gold into your ears. And yet, his voice usually became gruffer when he spoke as a Captain in a professional setting. 

You'd registered it when he once had taken a phone-call to book a time for a meeting with someone named Laswell or when he reprimanded one of the guys in a borderline-serious manner when you met them at a pub during one of their parallel leaves. The firmness in those deeply spoken sentences wasn't present when you dropped a 'Captain' while talking to him. 

But there was something else. Something under your skin just begging you to consider it's awfully close to a particular lustful drawl of John's. The one you regard as utterly and painfully arousing. If not for the truth, then for your lustful desires.

You lean against the counter as you wait for the water to boil, arms crossed over your chest. 

Facing the living room, you watch the only fascinating thing there. 

John just about placed the stack of papers he'd been reading back into its corresponding map, leaning forward to position it on top of the rest. Leaning back again, you notice how he sighs from the quick movement of his chest while opening the last lacklustre folder beside him. Leaving it open, John takes out the reports by gripping its stapled corner, swiftly picking up the reading again. As he does, he notches his thumb beneath his jaw, index finger swiping back and forth over his lower lip, brows pulling together. 

If not for the kettle signalling it's ready, you would've gotten stuck there, rooted in place as you take in the sight of the incredibly handsome man, your handsome man, so engrossed in his work. 

Preparing your respective beverages is easy. The task is something you've done countless times by now. So, within minutes, you're heading towards the seating arrangement with your respective mugs.

John notices your presence before his attention shifts to you, noticeable from how he pulls his stretched-out leg back towards him so you can step between his seat and the coffee table. Yet those blues flicker to you with an appreciative look right before you turn to settle his cup of tea on the tabletop. 

You set the mug down momentarily, reaching for a protective coaster. Placing the circular piece of wood close to the cup, you rearrange it to rest atop it instead. 

That could've been it. You could've just wandered back to your seat, either in an attempt to work or admire the view again. But no.

"There you go, Captain". You shift to face John with an innocent smile, gesturing to the cup from where steam curls upwards, filling the closest proximity of air with a spicy but soft scent of herbs. His hand has fallen from his jaw. Now, it rests on top of the folder at the armrest as he gazes at you, blues-eyes truly observing you. 

You don't know why the seemingly innocent eye contact makes you squirm. But from how John watches you, a feverish sensation rushes through your body, heating you from the inside under the scrutiny of his gaze.

The concoction of having John dressed like he is, watching you as he does and your lecherous imagination does wonders to lighten your belly on fire. You bite your lip, about to return to your seat, when John sits up, abruptly halting your attempt.

The swift thought of 'he's reaching for his mug' is wiped away immediately as he instead reaches for you. 

He circles the back of your neck with his big hand and tugs you down enough to meet him in a kiss. A soft, surprised noise vibrates against his lips, your eyes widening in reaction to his unexpected action, as opposed to his, which slips close.

"Such a darlin' to me, you know that?" John hums the word against your lips. And even if you like doing these small things for him because you see how much he enjoys them, your breath hitches, making John's eyes flutter open. 

When meeting your still wide-eyed expression, his lips bow upwards beneath his beard before his hand falls from your neck. This time, he reaches for the mug. 

As you straighten, your cup clutched against your stomach, John slouches backwards again.

"It's nothing", you reply to the man who looks too fucking indecent for still being fully dressed from the way his thighs fall outwards.

"It's everythin'", John insists. Your heart makes a dangerous leap as his baritone voice travels straight down. 

The way he's watching you doesn't help at fucking all as you feel a surging need to squeeze your legs together, something that would be embarrassingly noticeable from John's position. 

Rather than answering, mouth incredibly dry all of a sudden, you only return his appreciation with a small smile.

That his eyes follow you when you head back to your seat is apparent, your heart continuing its elevated rhythm with each step you take and his attention on your back. But when you sit down, facing him again, he's back to reading, the mug resting against his thigh.

Much like John, you should go back to work. But you don't need to look at your computer to know your last sliver of motivation has disappeared. Your attention undividedly on something else entirely.

You shuffle in your seat, one leg bent and resting on the cushioned seat beneath you, the other pulled close to your body with your foot planted on the couch. It makes you lean slightly to the side and the pillows you'd stacked for a makeshift edge towards the couch's middle.

Unable not to, your eyes flitter over John's form as you nurse your drink. 

His legs spread wide, trapping your gaze to glide over his crotch more than once, especially as he readjusts his position, hips doing that slight upwards jut as he makes himself more comfortable. You also follow his action of occasionally raising the mug to his mouth, his eyes never leaving the paper as he does. 

You watch as he sets down the documents on his leg to switch to the next side with the same hand, not desiring to go through the action of leaning forward, putting down the cup of tea, only to retrieve it to situate himself again.

Eyes remaining on the cup, you remark how John's big hand wraps around it, having no trouble encasing more than half of it. You compare it to how you hold your cup. One hand grabs the ear while your other hand curves along the opposing side.

When he raises the mug to his mouth, you follow the move, gaze lingering on his face even though he lowers it not soon after. 

You map the line of his beard, the purse of his lips, and how his eyes move from the left to the right as he follows the sentences on the paper.

And then, John's eyes flicker upwards, catching your blatant staring. Amusement flickers to life in those blues when you don't even try to play it off before he adverts his gaze down to the paper. 

"You're starin', love". John remarks. The cup of tea is brought to his lips as his attention remains on the document.

"Just enjoying the view", you shrug. Not untrue. 

John's brows arch. Not much later, as if wanting to finish a sentence, his head tilts upwards to look at you. "That so?"

"Mhm", you flash him a brief smile before you raise your mug to your lips, sipping its contents. His eyes narrow briefly. 

Even though you can't think of anything odd in your reaction, John apparently does. 

"Is there somethin' more?"

Your heart jumps. "No, you're free to continue working", you try deflecting John's attempt at making you explain what's on your mind. Apparently, you only succeeded in catching his attention more.

"I'm done". John states, making your brows jump and eyes flicker downwards, not having noticed he was on the last page of a considerably thinner stack of papers, unlike the previous ones. 

"Weren't you instructed to report back?" Your gaze shifts back to his face.

"Taken some notes. I'll send a mail later before goin' to bed". John replies promptly, meanwhile restoring the papers in their proper order. As he places the stack back in its map and drops it on top of the other finished ones on the table, he speaks. "Now I want to hear about what you're tip-toein' around 'cause it doesn't seem like nothin'". 

"No, really, it's nothing important". 

John cocks his head, brows raising in a silent inquiry.

You refuse to believe it's the 'men in uniform' curse amongst civilians. You know that's not the case, seeing how you don't find all soldiers good-looking just because, only John. Even so, you detest the thought of seeming disrespectful, fearing you reduced his career path to a mere point of attraction. It was one thing allowing it to fuel your imagination. But to admit it aloud? To John? Yeah, no.

You reach for the case of your glasses, popping it open with ease and inserting the specs. Placing them on top of your now closed laptop, you scoop them up and stand, about to discard the items in your bedroom.

The action was not impulsive. You always put your device on charge once John arrives. Today, it understandably changed to when he finished the reports he'd brought. Yet you didn't get that far, stopped unexpectedly by his voice.

"Sit". Your body stalls, brows raising. When you don't do as John says, his head cocks, fingers rapping against the armrest as he motions to the seat you just stood from with a nod. This time, you follow his request. "Talk to me, love. What's on your mind?"

Your fingers clutch your computer briefly before you reluctantly set it down on your coffee table. You sip your tea, searching for your words.

Upon your silence, stalling, an urging 'hm?' stems from John.

"I just, you know, think you look good today".

"Do I look any different today than otherwise?" He inquires. You don't think he means to interrogate you, but it feels just like that from how he watches you closely from his seat. It makes you squirm, raising your mug to your lips again before you answer.

"Well, you got those on".

John hums softly, a sound of acknowledgement. And, ever as keen, he figures out what your haphazard motions to his attire imply. "You like the clothes". It's more of a statement than a question, but you give him a nod anyway.

"They look good on you".

"That's what got you so worked up?"

"I'm not-"

"You are", he muses, cutting off your sentence as he leans forward, forearms resting on his knees as he places his mug on the coaster. "Those glasses you're religiously stubborn about using have been more off your face than not despite that laptop of yours being right in front of your face", he points out. 

Your brows pull together, lips parting as a protest isn't far away. But John beats you to it.

"No need denyin', I've noticed you starin' at me more than that screen of yours. Then we can't forge 'bout your teasin'".

This time, your brows genuinely furrow. "I haven't teased you?".

His head tilts to the side. "No? Could think I never left base with how much you've used my rank tonight, love". 

Oh, oh. John thinks your use of his rank is teasing. So it must mean something different when you use it. Not just in your imagination, then. Regardless of discovering this, you don't know how to react to John's admittance. You still feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat.

He watches you expectantly as if waiting for you to speak up. Instead, your fingers only rap against your mug before raising it again.

You tip your cup, yet no liquid reaches your lips. Your eyes flicker downwards as you lower it, noticing its emptiness. 

The nervous sips you'd taken off your tea have apparently drained it quicker than you anticipated. 

Much like a mouse making a break for it each time the cat releases it, you don't hesitate to stand and head into the kitchen to discard your mug, seizing the chance to escape John's heavy gaze and probing for enough time you don't fumble for an answer.

What you don't expect is the footsteps following you into the kitchen. But you should've. The cat never lets its prey get too far away.

Naturally, you look over your shoulder.

John moves so assuredly. There's a slight sway to his hips, strides not hurried despite covering the same distance as you in a much more rapid fashion. Confidence, he oozes it from the very way he carries himself.

There's no denying that such a mass moving with such practised ease is on the verge of terrifying. But the thrill harbours an indisputable excitement, especially as your eyes briefly meet John's blue ones, calm but bright with intrigue.

You turn forward as you reach the kitchen counter, putting your mug in the sink, attempting to hide how he affects you. But believing you could hide from an elite soldier in plain sight is foolish. 

The hairs on your neck stand when John steps up behind you.

He sets his mug beside yours before his hands settle on the counter. With one hand at either side of you, his shoulders haunch to eclipse yours, making your heart thump in your chest.

"Indulge me. What about the clothes you like so much it got you behavin' like this?" 

"Uhm-". Your thoughts screech to a halt as you flail for something to say. Admitting just how much John in these clothes affects you brushes on mortifying. "The way it fits you, I guess", you settle on in the end.

"You guess?". John repeats close to your ear.

Pride and a certain level of amusement roll off of him in waves, seeping right through your back, worming itself to your front only to nestle in your chest. Rather than installing the same emotions in you, they fuel your desire and jittery nerves.

"Love?" He gently encourages you to detail your answer, causing you to bite your inner cheek, rolling the meat between your molars. You may be tentative to admit your inner thoughts. But, it's still John with his incredibly calm and soothing self that puts you at ease and finally makes you relent.

"They just make you feel stronger, more authoritative-"

"Authoritative?" If you would've faced John, his inquisitive look would've met you. And yet, you don't even need to, feeling it burn into the side of your head as his ducked head angles towards you. You see it out of your peripheral, how he gazes at you, but you persistently stare directly forward as you give him a slight nod.

You swallow, worrying that you overstepped as you tried explaining the indecent thoughts wrecking your brain without spewing their true nature as blatantly as they arise. 

Assuming that's the reason for John's momentary silence, he surprises you when he finally speaks.

"You know, love", he hums, airy and amused. Your eyes drop, following his hands as they trail up the stone counter until they settle on top of yours. His fingers worms in between your slender ones. "I have noticed how remarkably much you've been staring, how handsy you've been when I come home like this". 

Body lightening on fire, a warm rush sweeps through you, the sound of blood suddenly pounding noticeably in your ears as you duck your head. Had you? You hadn't even thought so.

"Nothing to fluster about".

"Well, I do", you bite back, but there's no venom to your words, only embarrassment that you hadn't hidden your desire well enough, even if it was to an elite soldier you'd lost to. The mouse would forever lose to the cat.

"Why?"

"Because it's wrong, John. Just because you fit too bloody good dressed like a Captain, it shouldn't turn me on this fucking much". Thank god you're not looking at him. You would've sunken through the floor.

"I remember you mentioned somethin' like that the night we met". 

"I said that you suit being a Captain, not that it turns me on". John's exhale borders on a groan and your brows knit together when you catch it.

"Remember you called me that as well". John brushes past the admittance in your sentence as if it's nothing. "Caught me off-guard the first time". He nudges your head from the side, hands tightening over yours. 

"Why?" You breathe, realising his voice has dropped into a husky depth. It only did that when his arousal stirred, which sparked your curiosity enough to repress your humiliation.

"Sounded so wrong from you, a civvie callin' me by rank. But I couldn't deny I liked it". John's face falls into your neck, placing a kiss beneath your ear as he drops a fraction of his weight against your back. Still, it's enough to cage you to the counter and feel his hardening cock against your rear. Your eyes widen. "And then you said it while I was stuffin' that cunt of yours. Bloody hell, I almost lost my head when you called me Captain all stunningly dishevelled beneath me". A surprised gasp rips from your throat at John's words curl along the shell of your ear while he shoves his growing erection against you.

"What are you saying?" Your chest heaves at the end of your sentence as John rubs himself against the plush swell of your ass from behind. 

"I'm tellin' you, despite how wrong it is, that I like when you call me Captain". He husks into your ear, using your wording from earlier. 

John steadily grinds against you, pressing you further into the counter's edge. Instinctually, you arch against him, but one of his hands swiftly grabs your hip, forcing you down. 

"Love, I wanna try somethin' out", he hums. "Tell me if it gets too much. Understood?" There's no hesitancy in John's voice, only an alluring reassurance and passion that pikes your interest.

"Yeah, alright". 

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, John, I understand". You whine, curiosity eating you from the inside, yet he only tsks at you.

"You know what to call me". You inhale sharply. Fuck, could he be talking about? He is. You swallow, mind reeling as you realise John's alluding to something you've only entertained as fantasy. And yet, his rank solely remains a heavy, dirty thought. "Come on, love, know you want to". 

You swallow, eyes wide and staring forward. John must sense your hesitancy as his hand rucks the shirt you're wearing upwards, baring your ass. Attempting to coax you, he shoves his bulge straight into your scantily covered pussy.

"I want you to say it, m'not goin' any further until you do. Both of us must want this". That does the trick. You wouldn't pass up on this chance.

"C-Captain".

"Whole sentence, love".

"I understand, Captain".

"Good girl". He praises you. "Now, you'll take what I give".

"Oh", you breathe out as a violent shiver runs down your spine and the muscles attaching to the back of your head quiver. 

John's not only igniting something so perfectly inside your body. He also flips a switch in your head with his commanding voice, precisely the one that made his authoritative nature as a Captain so attractive. 

"From your reaction, it seems you don't mind bein' ordered around". John breathes into your ear. "Is that correct?"

"Don't mind". 

The man behind you releases a hum as he tests your reply by nudging his foot against your right ankle. You can feel him smirk at how you react, widening your stance one foot at a time without any resistance. Even when John presses himself against your back and continues forward by bending over you until you're flat against the kitchen counter, you don't resist him.  

"So pliant, aren't you?" One of his hands releases yours, yet you continue pressing it against the stone. His fingers trail up your now bent arm, over your shoulder and along the curve of your body until his fingers curl around your waist.

You nod swiftly, only catching the faintest reflection of the movement even though your cheek rests against the polished stone surface. He chuckles at your hasty reply, the sound cracking up the length of your spine.

"Mhm, stay like that now". John instructs, standing straight with a squeeze to your hand that, up until now, remained intertwined with his.  

His fingers run along your clothed spine until it reaches your bared lower vertebral, then your ass until it dips between your legs from behind, pressing into the seam of your underwear.

"Fuckin' hell, you've gotten this wet already? So desperate for your Captain, eh?" You whimper as he pushes against the damp fabric, the material pressing into your folds. 

"Yes, John-Captain!" You correct yourself as he slaps your pussy upon the slip-up. The tap of his palm doesn't hurt but acts as a reminder. Nevertheless, it sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, making you squirm.

"Two rules, love", he remarks. "One, for now, it's Captain. Two, if you don't keep still, I'll stop touchin' you, leavin' you all pent up, just like this, right here", he makes clear. As if daring you to obey, a gentle test calculating how much you really want this, his thumb shallowly probes against your core. Your eyes snap shut, teeth digging into your bottom lip, a forced exhale escaping your lungs as you concentrate on not rocking backwards while fabricating a reply.

"Y-yes, Captain".

As if content with your words and actions, John steps away. Despite the loss of contact, you remain in your position. 

Your pulse thrums as you listen to John, picking up on the shift of clothes and the sound of a zipper. Your anticipation skyrockets as he doesn't hurry his movements, taking his sweet time before he touches you again. When he does, he pulls down your panties until the elastic band digs into the middle of your thighs.

A shuddering breath escapes your lungs when nothing separates John's fingers from your exposed wetness. He runs two fingers up and down almost leisurely until one digit firmly pushes against your clit in a circular sweep. The sudden attention to your throbbing bundle of nerves sends neurons flying.

You don't even know on what scientific level it's possible to stop an involuntary reaction, but just as you feel your lower back muscles tightening, you slam the flatness of your palm against the counter with a 'shit' as you try.

You wouldn't count it as moving, but you did twitch upon the surprising pressure against your clit. And as John pulls away, placing his hand on the small of your back, you whine in defeat, knowing he caught it too.

"What was that?". 

"Nothing, nothing, please, Captain, I'll be good". You don't even realise what you say yourself as you plead with John. He couldn't leave you there. You would possibly explode.

He only tuts, hand pressing firmer against your spine. Your heart drops for a second until he speaks. "I'll let you of this once".

"Thank you". John groans behind you, curse breathed beneath his breath as his character breaks for a moment, caught off guard by your rushed response. It's not long, but it's a reminder that it's still John behind you.

A swift pressure change against your spine indicates he's gathered himself again before he picks up where he left off.

His finger starts trailing up and down your folds again, but you remain in your position in spite of how your legs quiver in want, a desire for more. 

Your wet, sopping, John's digit coated swiftly in your slick as he teases you.

He toys back and forth before his finger slips down. This time you've already braced yourself when he circles your clit. You force yourself to hold still as you whine at the contact, wanting nothing more than to rock backwards.

Noticing your struggle and stubbornness, John's free hand grabs your hip, kneading the flash with gentle squeezes. "Mhm, just like that, love, doin' so good for me".

His baritone rolls over your back, making you shudder, skin knotting with goosebumps. He never once stops the slow movement of his finger, causing you to clench around nothing continuously, especially as he starts flicking the tip of his finger.

You press your forehead against the counter upon the small, sharp jolts of electricity firing pleasure through your nervous system. But it's so fleeting it doesn't have an opportunity to build into anything damning as John pulls away from your clit, falling back to running his digit along your folds.

John stays clear from your throbbing bundle of nerves, rotating his hand as he teasingly concentrates more and more attention on your entrance. You release an anticipated breath as he brushes over it repeatedly until you bite your lip. You want to tilt your hips to make him slip inside. But you withhold the urge, thankfully reaping the rewards before you get desperate enough that your body acts on instinct.

John puts the slightest pressure behind the dragging motion. At first, only the tip of his finger enters you before he pulls it back, doing the same thing a few times until he pushes its entirety inside. 

You moan even though it's not nearly enough to stretch you so deliciously you feel full. But it just feels good having something sliding in and out of you. Though one soon turns to two when John pulls out, a second finger prodding your pussy before both slip inside.

Squelching noises fill the air as he fingers you, his other digits pressing against your ass. You pant, unable to keep your noises at bay as he finally relents somewhat in his fleeting touches and indulges you with some relief. But it's not nearly enough. 

The pace remains slow, his fingers imitating a stroking motion even inside you rather than plunging deep and fast or wriggling forcefully to spur an orgasm. Now, you only feel your high building oh so slowly that it's frustrating how flat the exponential curve is.

And yet, as if projected from your body, you can see the scene you're a part of and find it unbelievably arousing. 

John, with his cock freed from his pants and occasionally brushing against your rear, otherwise fully clothed, almost lazily pumping his fingers in and out of your hole as you bend over the counter, panties around your legs, doing your damnedest to keep fucking still.

You moan at the image, hands pressing flat against the counter before curling into fists. It's so fucking erotic that you feel John's fingers suddenly sliding more easily in and out despite the way you clench around them.

"You're practically drippin', love", he teases you, fingers leaving your entrance for a few seconds, not hovering far from your pussy, until they return with a press against your clit, a new chillier slickness coating them. The acknowledgement that you're wet enough it nearly dribbles from you wears your patience to the breaking point.

"Captain, I can't take it, fuck me already". John doesn't reprimand you for your demand, only chuckles as he steps close, cock pressing against your asscheek. 

His fingers have dropped from your clit, but his touch is soon replaced with the head of his cock as he guides it to your folds, running it up and down to coat himself in your slick. 

You let out a shuddering moan as John pushes slightly against your entrance, tip breaching your hole, only to slip out and repeat the movement. Regardless that he's in charge, your frustrated cry is all it takes for him to push into you properly with an amused huff that sharply pivots into a grunt.

"Yeah, just like that- arch for me… good girl…". John groans, and you take his urge to meet his thrust that you're finally free to move as you wish. 

You gape as he bottoms out in one slow press, hips pressed flush against your ass. You feel his legs tremble, his hands flexing on your hips, but he stays still for your sake of accustoming to his girth.

"So good for your Captain". You whimper at his words, making him chuckle breathily. "Oh, you like that, eh?" He feigns ignorance of what he'd learnt: that you absolutely do. He grabs a fistful of your ass. "Dirty girl…". You gasp as he spanks your rear, the smacking sound making you clench around him.

"Need you to move". You whine as you wriggle your hips. But John bends over you, burly frame forcing your upper body flush to the cool tabletop.

"Come on, love". He scolds huskily against the shell of your ear, warm breath cascading past your cheek. Parts of his hands grip your ass while the rest cover your hips, the meat spilling between his fingers. But he remains still, deep inside you, not moving until the proper phrase falls from your lips. 

It's easier to give in this time, having been shoved over the edge previously, ignoring the immorality of using his rank in this setting and whatever pride left in your body. Mentally, at least. 

Physically, it takes you a few seconds, preoccupied with basking in what's happening. Bent over the counter with the biting kiss from the cold stone dulled from the shirt you borrowed from John. Yet the harshness from the unmoving material doesn't fail to make itself reminded against your soft body despite the shielding material. Effortlessly sandwiching you is the similarly firm body of John, considerably warmer but still effective in immobilising you.

"Captain, please". His rank is honey, saccharine and dripping effortlessly from your tongue once you find your voice through the arousal. "Please move".

"Mm, that's it", he croons, granting you the movement you want as he straightens, not before kissing your clothed shoulder. Exegrated to make up for the fabric separating you.

It starts with calculated thrusts that make you keen and almost roll back and forth on your feet from the steady and slow pace. Then John picks up the speed, rutting against you with powerful snaps of his hips. Your fingers scramble, finding purchase on the counter's edge, curling over the side to have some semblance of grounding force.

It doesn't take long before you moan unabashedly at each stroke, fluttering around his cock as he works his length in and out of you, driving his hips forward and back in a steady beat. Along the erotic sound of skin slapping and wet noises is the filth spewing from his lips.

"This what you wanted, eh?" He gruffs. "With all those looks?" He gets a moan in response as you turn your head so your cheeks rest against the counter, watching him through the corner of your eye. 

John's jaw hangs slack, hair falling along his forehead as he must be staring at where the two of you connect. He looks raptured, almost dazed. He said he wanted this as well and by the looks of it... yeah, he really did. You don't know how you haven't noticed. But, fortunately, John sets your knack of reading people to shame compared to his skill. 

You're snapped out of your thoughts as one of his hands leaves your hips and you see him raise it at an angle. You whine, arching towards it as much as possible with the unbudging surface beneath you. It drags his eyes upwards, noticing how you're watching him. 

His lips tug upwards, eyes never leaving you as his palm swats your ass. A reactionary moan spills from your lip as your legs press against the outer side of his thighs at the sensation, brows knitting together from the stinging pleasure.

It spurs John to rut harder, causing your body to fucking sing as your head gets steadily dizzier.

He releases a breathless chuckle at your inability to conjure anything apart from keening sounds and guttural moans as your body goes lax, eyes fluttering close, body jolting at the new pace he sets.

But he doesn't appear much more put together as he witnesses how you allow yourself to let go, giving the reins entirely to him. 

You catch how John's sentence breaks into fractions, groans and heady sounds spilling from his lips between sentences to rile you up even further. In the end he can't release much more than growling sounds as he folds, resting his chest against your back, using his weight to forcefully push his hips against yours, making his balls tap against your clit each time.

John barely pulls himself back enough to push forwards again, but it's enough to repeatedly batter the head of his cock against the spot making your legs tingly and toes flex before curling. 

Once again, your hands search for something to grasp upon the pleasure coursing through your body. One manages to bend backwards over your shoulder, catching the lapel of John's jumper, and the other slides feebly across the smooth countertop. 

Your orgasm is building, breaths turning stunted, muscles seizing.

You feel John's rhythm stutter as you clench more frequently and reactionary in response to his ruts as you near your release. His head ducks to rest between your shoulder-blades, warm puffs of air seeping through the oversized shirt you're wearing. His teeth bite down on the excess fabric, grunts vibrating against you. 

John's getting close, throbbing violently inside you, hands digging into your hips even further. When he angles his thrusts downwards, a dirty grind at the end of each penetration, he hits so many pleasurable spots that you release an unprompted cry.

You don't need much, so close to your edge that your head thrash that you wedge your hand beneath your forehead to not knock yourself out cold. So when John grits a heady sentence through his teeth and the fabric trapped between them, that's it. 

"Come on, love, be a good girl to your Captain. Wanna feel you squeeze 'round me".

Your eyes snap close as you jerk against him, ass pressing upwards before involuntarily trying to escape his persistent thrusts as the pleasure explodes. But your hipbones are already aching from the counter and you can't flee how John continues to cram his girthy cock into your twitching hole, so you just let him extend your orgasm until he reaches his with a growl. 

John curls around you, hips pressing snuggly against your rear as he spurts his release deep. You feel his warm spend inside you, releasing a shattered moan as your eyelids flutter but, in the end, remain closed.

The stone isn't as cold against your forehead anymore, the surface likely warming from your panting exhales.

John's chest rises and falls against your back. He massages your hips almost unconsciously, small flexes of his fingers. Your hand, previously fisting his jumper, falls to your left hip, squeezing his wrist before your fingers graze over his knuckles and card between digits, easing his grip. It seems to bring him out of his post-orgasmic rouse as he softens the action until he stills completely, now cradling the likely-to-be-discoloured area.

"Fuck", he exhales as he releases your shirt from his teeth. The wet spot where his saliva has sept into the fabric is significant as it falls back against your skin. 

You reply with a soft confirming sound, craning your neck to glance at John. 

His face has risen and is now close to yours. However, what catches you off-guard isn't the proximity but his gaze. It's dark and glittering, a spent smile noticeable through his facial hair.

He kisses you despite the awkward angle. The hair that's

fallen out of place and endearingly covers his forehead brushes yours. 

The interaction is brief before he rises, bringing you with him from the forwards-bent position that's not as comfortable for either of you when the lust-driven haze fades. In the movement, John slips out of you before stepping back. Not soon after, he pulls your underwear into place. 

The hem of his shirt drops around your thighs once you stand again and it doesn't catch on John's hand. You run a hand through your hair, letting it fall to the kitchen counters, noticing your balance is still wobbly. Your other hand assist your balance by resting on the kitchen counter as you take a moment to collect yourself. 

You take a moment to collect yourself before you turn to face John with a sigh. He's just popped the button on his cargos back in place but doesn't care about tucking his t-shirt into the waistband of his pants again.

As John runs a hand through his hair, the other naturally falls to your hip to steady you as his gaze locks with yours.

"All good?" His voice is gritty, pleasure still intertwined with the soft check-in.

"Mm, yeah", you smile sluggishly, your voice breathy. "You?" 

"All good. I wasn't too much?" There's a glimmer of concern in his eyes, one you shoo away immediately.

"No, god, you were not too much, John, you were... really good". You reach out to touch John, hands slipping between the layers of fabric on his torso. He melts under your touch, relaxing the arm that had raised so he could tame his hair, letting it curve around your neck. With the back of your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm, he tugs you closer to him.

"Didn't know you had such a thing for men in uniform, love". He chuckles, lightening the mood as he looks down at you. 

"You in uniform". 

"Compliments your take on a gallantry medal?" 

"Mhm", you hum against his lips. "My Captain deserves them". You cheekily use the nickname you'd moaned shamelessly only minutes prior, making him huff an amused laugh that puffs against your mouth.

"Not gonna hear the end of that, eh?"

"At ease, soldier, I'm only gonna use it when I wanna get a rile out of you". You press a kiss against John's lips and he reciprocates it. In the end, a smile splits yours open, one you greet him with as you lean away, creating a bit of space between you. "But what would they think of that? Esteemed Captain Price with a captain kink". He pinches your rear, and you squeal, a sound that fades into a giggle as the hand previously on the counter settles on your hip. 

"Watch it". The edges of John's eyes are still creased in the corners as he says it, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Just curious", you defend yourself with a shrug. "But I can't say I'm surprised you like the power-trip". You give the blue-eyed man a playful purse of your lips. 

He cock his head, brows arching. "Why?"

"Being a good Captain must come from somewhere. You like ordering people around", you muse.

"Delighted to be your entertainment". John exhales through his nose.

You try to lean up to kiss his furrowed expression away, but by tightening his arm around your head and leaning backwards, he avoids your attempt.

"Don't be pouty. You seemed to enjoy it just as much as I did. Admitted you do". You chide John lightly and he drops the faux offence, delight and piked interest present in his eyes.

"Mm, 'bout that. Didn't know you liked bein' ordered around that much". You smile shyly, head notching forwards, not far from resting against his chest from your closeness.

"We all have our moments of something, don't we?" You look up at John through your lashes. 

His arms slide down until his hand envelops your neck. A hum fills the air before he leans down, pressing his lips against yours briefly, soothing any possible apprehension in your answer framed as a question rather than a statement.

"Would you like me to do it more?" You crack into a smile at his question, eyes fluttering open to meet his blue eyes.

"Yeah, I would like to. I-I adore when you're sweet on me, John, but I also like when you're rough. Just, you know, take what you want sometimes, do as you please". You shrug, catching how John releases the air from his lungs in something akin to wonder and desire.

"You trust me enough?"

"If your men trust you on the field, I think I can trust you in this situation". 

John lets out a long groan, head tipping backwards as his eyes shut tightly. "Don't bring the lads into this, don't want that association".

You chuckle in earnest. "What? You're their Captain first and foremost".

"Not this type", he huffs, head falling forward. Looking at you again, the hand on the side of your neck slides to your hip, both hands now anchored there.

"Alright, alright. Only want you to myself anyways". You lean up, planting a series of kisses against John's lips until he reciprocates, the frown disappearing from his brows.

"Already got me, love". His voice softens, making you smile in return. 

Just as you're about to reply, the sensation of fluids flowing out of you makes you reactively twitch and clamp your legs together, hands flexing on his stomach. John notices, suppressing a smirk as he fishes your hands from beneath his jumper.

"Let's get you cleaned up." John enlaces his hand with one of yours, tugging you along as he heads towards your bathroom. "Still need to have that shower".

"You like seeing me wet, don't you?"

"Never said we would shower". John sends you a humoured look over his shoulder, making you roll your eyes. "Watch that attitude of yours. Things like that get you a lesson in discipline in the army". 

"Because that would be my biggest problem and not sleeping with a Captain, who I much rather get disciplined by." You quip with an amused look.

"Careful with what you wish for, love". John returns, the reply accompanied by a wink. As you chuckle with a shake of your head, John pulls you forward and into his side, planting a kiss on the side of your head, effectively ending the conversation as you step into the bathroom.

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi Lexi!

I have a situation for you to think about: how would any of the men you write behave if they were coming home late (after work or a night out) and their partner was already asleep in bed?

Who trips over the couch? Who stealthily sneaks into bed? Who crashes fully clothed? And so on and so forth? I guess it’s a hc of sorts

Hope your wknd was/is great! 💜

Eeeee, this one's gonna be so fun, M! Thank you for such an interesting query 😍--some of these will involve early on in relationships and then later when babe is most comfortable with their partner--some of them are a twinge smutty/soft!dark.

**Oh snap, some of these surprised me too, dearies! Proceed with caution...**

James Mace - The Practical Man

Mace arrives home to assess a 'tipping point' in himself and you. He only does everything as he normally would, exactly as he would do it if you were awake. He tosses his keys those last few inches onto the hall table, turns on any lights he needs, pulls a glass from the cupboard for water, and brushes his teeth with the door open. If you're still sleeping when he's ready for bed, then that's fine. You're clearly tired. He could use rest, too. No problem. If you wake up, Mace likes to tell you about his day, even if your comments are mumbled with closed eyes and all he can do is pet his thumb across your cheek before you dose off again.

He likes sweet, slow kisses goodnight. He'll cuddle if you pull him in, but otherwise, he'll give you space. He doesn't want to overheat you. Mace's one, super-particular bedtime thing is saying "see you in the morning." Sounds simple, yeah, but in space, he doesn't get to--to say it or to see you or to really know it's morning. It's that tiny bit of reassurance that helps him relax into bed.

Curtis Everett - The Stealthy Spice

For lack of a better term, Curtis has night-vision. He never trips over anything, he can do everything in the dark just like the lights were on, and he makes next to no noise doing it. For when you are deep in sleep, that's great because him getting into bed won't startle you. If you're sleeping lightly? You practically slap him.

He's ready for that scenario, too, and grabs your wrists before you make contact. Starting with soothing words, he'll talk you down. Curtis is always sorry to alarm you, but his apology doesn't cover regret that you're awake now because he works very hard, very long days and misses you frequently. His shifts are so long he doesn't have much evening time with you during his work week. (He will, in fact, crash on the couch if he knows you have something big going on the next day and need rest, for what it's worth.)

We all joke that Curtis is a dirty boi, but truly, I do believe that once this man is comfortable with stable life, he is about that booty. He's 'calming you down' with that soft cooing at the same time he's sucking that sweet spot on your neck. Once he releases your fighting wrists, he's groping your ass and pinching your nipples. He'll wear you both out so you sleep again. Please let him. He will beg if necessary.

Jimmy Dobyne - The Handsy Drunk

Ok, I love Jimmy, but he is a pretty traditional dude. He requires/expects a certain type of effort from his partner, so if he's the breadwinner, you fulfill his other needs. He drinks out with friends and co-workers frequently as his way of shaking off a day of manual labor. Not a big texter or phone-talker, this one. Jimmy is more of a physical-contact partner. He has difficulty engaging in long, emotional conversations, so he uses touch to work through frustration. I am not talking about being violent, mind, just rougher at times, and this is where I get the idea of Jimmy being the most dominant of the characters I write for from (save for Lloyd obviously).

Jimmy is the classic man. Could be horny enough to wake you. Could be exhausted enough to just pass out. Could be too drunk to find his way to the bedroom entirely without tripping/running into furniture. All those things: that's Jimmy, and if he's been out late without you at all, it was either from being at work the entire time or out drinking after work. Ok, wait, technically he'll play golf with buddies, too, but they also drink then so kinda the same idea.

Johnny Storm - The Man Who Can't Stop

Hyper. Johnny is gd hyper and needs to be doing things--anything--almost every second he's awake. He tries to be quiet but also forgets to be quiet. He gets restless. He moves around a lot while he sleeps. He has weird dreams but not what he'd call 'nightmares.' Johnny sometimes needs to wake you up in order to calm down. He needs company because imagine how lonely flying is? Sure, the solitude is welcome sometimes, but otherwise, there is no one around. All his adrenaline-junkie activities, i.e. snowboarding, motocross, etc, are solo sports; he has fun with them, but they aren't interactive.

Now for the actual fun part of his return home: given permission from his partner, Johnny will at least begin doing whatever he wants whether you're awake or not, and he really, really enjoys seeing how far he can get before you do stir. Mouth, fingers, or full cock (in that order); it's one extra game he likes to play.

Jake Jensen - Must Wind Down

Jake cannot go to bed right after getting home; he needs at least two hours, preferably three to four, to do non-work things and clear his mind. Usually, it's gaming--when you are already asleep or if you're watching a show he isn't into--but could also be bingeing something with you. Before bed is playtime. Jake has that anxious energy he has to burn off, and when you're already out cold, he will not bother you unless you call for him or come out of the bedroom. Just his way.

He's got the path from door to home office down pat, and he doesn't need any light on to get there (barring something randomly moved or left in the way).

Very important point here is that Jake doesn't drink much without you. He'll have a friendly nightcap with the Team, and they do play actual games while having alcohol sometimes. They don't play drinking games though--specifically, Jake won't participate in drinking games without you. He gauges how much he drinks by how much you do, and he ensures you're both safe to get home/stay somewhere. He never comes home drunk. Loopy tired? Yes. Inebriated? No.

Lloyd Hansen - The Selfish Asshole

Moot point. Lloyd doesn't even sleep in the same bed as his partner. Sorry, gang, he does not give a shit about you or your beauty sleep. If he wants to fuck you, he will go right in, roll you onto your stomach, and take what he wants. That's just Lloyd.

Ari Levinson - Can't Hide His Feelings

He is affected by his day, and whether that means Ari is spitting-mad at some stupid shit others pulled at work or he's raving excited about something coming down the pipeline, he shows it. So, what does that mean for you? It means if Ari wants to be alone, he won't disturb you, but if he needs company, he's gonna wake you up.

It's led to arguments because he does not always think that through. He may have the power to keep his brain turned off while you speak to him tired; you don't really get that luxury. However, Ari is also very affecting in his attention. He's not taking his moods out on you like some of the others. Ari is improving his mood by being with you and will make it worth your waking while.

Ransom Drysdale - Silent Signals

Like two others (Curtis and Steve), Ransom evolves from closed-off/reserved to more open the longer he's with someone.

Ran, at first, does not spend the night or stay for long periods. Once he does, he is still very conscious of personal space (mostly for him and then eventually for you, too). Moving in together doesn't change that for another long while... Ran is slow to warm up.

He does absolutely get drunk and come home boldly horny--by that, I mean, the type of horny that needs intimacy as well--and crawl right into bed for sloppy, desperate, snuggly sex. The level of drunkenness required to get to that point diminishes over time, as his trust increases, but otherwise, Ran refuses to crash on a lumpy, small, angular couch, he refuses to sleep in anything with buttons or zippers or thick seams, and he refuses to compromise on resting comfortably. He will complain--and do so very loudly--if he is not comfy. Hotel staff beware.

Steve Rogers - Ever-Thoughtful

You know, you all know, how much I love Steve, but he's also just slow in his way. He needs lots of encouragement and permission, and, of course, Steve never assumes anything. That would make an ass out of him and his partner. Can't have that. Nope. Not a chance.

There's a wonderful part about this trait though.

Steve always considers you. He always listens to you. He doesn't rush either. So not only will Steve know if you need sleep more than company, not only will he have filed away your mood and body language over the last day and week, but he will also slowly complete his nighttime routine, making zero noise, keeping light and movement to a minimum.

Painstakingly slow, he'll get into bed, wait for you to naturally turn into him, and hold you. He's patient, but Steve is also not afraid to admit he enjoys seeing your peaceful face. He enjoys being right there in case it contorts in fear or pain. He simply enjoys being there, awake or asleep, in love or in support, as much as possible.

Bucky Barnes - Ever-Interested

He's complicated, but the fight Bucky goes through eternally is in his own mind now. He doesn't know where he falls on a scale of brash-young-heartthrob-soldier to brainwashed-loner-skiptime-assassin. He hasn't lived the in-between moments for most of his life. He struggles with that.

Bucky gives in to moments of quiet humanity, sure, but he still defaults to efficiency, even at the cost of comfort. When I say this is a war within him, I'm not putting it lightly. He can't shake what I'll call 'The Calculation.'

What does his own body need in this moment? Is it food or water or sex or sleep? Will getting what he wants jeopardize the next thing he'll need? If he needs food but nothing is available without making noise that will wake you, and he doesn't want or need to talk before he sleeps, then he has to choose based on that. If he needs release but not the mirror intimacy, he has to find a way to indulge in you without waking you.

Except there's a somewhat secret part of this: Bucky always wants you. There is always a part of him craving either the carnal pleasure or the emotional connection or the validation of sex, all for different reasons at different times. He understands the value of possessing you in some way. It's too difficult for him to describe in a way that doesn't make him sound like a scumbag (or so he believes), therefore, Bucky still slips into those Winter Soldier skills to keep his dirty little secret from tainting how you see him: for every night he does wake you--sweet and innocent with cuddles or love-making--there are two nights where he silently watches, thinking of all that he needs or could take from you as he touches himself.

😵‍💫 wait, What was that one???? 🫣

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would...' List; Ko-Fi]

A/N: This was actually a whole lot harder than I thought it would be. Pretty sure some of these aren't going to go over very well either, but eh, that's my lot in life and we can each see the characters however we want, right?

[myobsessionsspace]

maybe a tough question but hypothetically, do you think it would be the end of BTS if Jungkook and jimin ever came out as a couple?

Hypothetically speaking.

For some reason I don’t think the majority of the fandom would be accepting, sadly. 

What are your thoughts? Again, hypothetically. I really doubt they ever would. 

the travel show almost feels like a cushion? If that’s the right way to put it. Like it’s them saying, we’re close. And if upon our release from MS, you catch us out and about together or closer than ever, well, we served together, we travelled together, we are simply close.

a cover. Of sorts.

thoughts?

Hi Lovely,

If it’s ok I’d like to talk about coming out first before I talk about the hypothetical in relation to Jikook.

Coming Out

As a member of the community myself I can only speak for my own experiences, own up to my lack of experiences, refer to what I’ve learnt from others and resources and it still wouldn’t be enough. Because identity, orientation, expression etc is totally individual. Sometimes it’s constantly evolving and sometimes due to situations left dormant or stifled.

Sexual orientation for some people is not a one and done. There are many people I know that have come out with one label then have come out later one with another, then another.

I say all that to say one of the key focuses in coming out is to label yourself unambiguously.

This originally was meant to be for the person in question only.

This was meant to be so the person in question could live in their full authentic truth, to no longer have to deal with societal pressures and expectations.

To understand themselves and to have people understand them. To find a community, to be embraced and loved.

Coming out was meant to feel LIBERATING to the person in question, freeing, coming out of a box, a closet if you will.

Sadly that’s not always the case for everyone.

Sometimes it’s because of the environments they are in, that doesn’t allow for them to be fully embraced, to have that fearless freedom, to have that community. Sometimes it’s just not safe.

Not safe due to the emotional anguish that may be inflicted on the person by those closest to them, those in their everyday environment, those in their wider environment.

It may have physical safety repercussions, financial repercussions, familial and social repercussions, religious conflicts etc.

It may just not be safe because the person in question is not ready to deal with the psychological and emotional effects that may ensue after they coming out because we live in a world where the majority oppress the minority, and being queer is a minority.

No matter how progressive people may view the world to be, through the lense of the internet, in the human body, physically dealing with everything that comes with labelling yourself is a big deal.

On the flip side there are those that are fortunate that they don’t even have to come out. Or any fears aren’t actualised because they’re blessed.

There are people that have never been taught to be fearful of learning themselves, expressing themselves.

They’ve never been taught to view people and their differences in any negative way. They’ve been taught they are in a safe and loved environment that no matter what they do, how they live or who they do or don’t love

They are and will still be loved and have a place.

There are some people that when they do come out their family and or friends would be like ‘oh honey, why are you being formal about it, even the cat knew’

Even with people that have all of the above they may come out to every Tom, Dick and Harry they meet, they may come out to a select few or they might not come out at all.

Because essentially coming out is the person in questions choice. It’s their privilege, it’s their right. It’s theirs.

It’s not the requirement so others around them feel better. It’s not a job requirement, a legal requirement any requirement at all. It’s not a must to prove you’re actually queer. If someone never comes out in their whole life it doesn’t negate their queerness.

Labelling oneself is not for others. It’s for the person.

For them to define themselves if they so wish to, for them to understand themselves, to learn themselves, to appreciate and love themselves.

To find others like them, to cut down time explaining to others if they so wish to about their preferences, expression, identity and so on.

Ok so with that out of the way

Jikook

- No I don’t think the show is them coming out

- Yes I think the show is to show what we already know and what is one hard fact, that Jikook are best friends and closer than close

- Yes, I’m hoping that it helps those that do know of them and don’t, to accept their closeness as not just co-workers in a group but as a very close duo within the group

- Yes I agree with you, the fandom as a whole, if they were to undeniably be known as a romantic non-heterosexual couple, wouldn’t fully embrace them how we would believe in 2024.

Sadly one of the things that comes along with boy bands is the fan girl in varying forms. The fan girl that no matter their proximity to the boy band member, their relationship status, their age, whatever, the fan girl puts their wants, beliefs and ideals onto them. They idolise their idol. Sadly the majority boy band fans and BTS’ fans idolise them, fantasise about them. Be it with themselves or a stand in they deem suitable, a woman.

Because heteronormativity is so rooted in their thinking, they can’t see their idols as anything but. What else could they do but be successful then have the wife, kids, pets and picket fence? If not that then the idol will remain the bad boy lothario of their fantasies even grey haired and weak backed.

For too many people in the world and too many in the fandom being gay first and foremost is seen as defective. To believe that about their idol would be ‘wrong’ in their eyes. If it was to be proven true it would cause an array of negative emotions, thoughts and actions. The most tame being to leave the fandom.

I’m a very pessimistic person, though I need and seek for positivity. Thats that’s chronic that anxiety & depression baby✨

I have grown up and am surrounded by a culture similar to the SK conservative culture when it comes to nearly everything, gender roles, sexuality etc. I am a minority from a culture that legally, religiously and socially oppresses queer people. I can without the Korean male element wholeheartedly understand being closeted in SK.

I can’t however understand being a celebrity of any kind, let alone a celebrity of their magnitude.

Jikook & Labelling

We have no clue. From context clues we can assume Jimin to be bisexual, but from nothing directly and explicitly verbalised by him. Through his art, many have drawn this conclusion. There are other assumptions that have been made by some to do with his gender expression and identity. He has only ever referred to himself as a 남자 [man] any and everytime in public. Yes we have evidence of him bucking masculine stereotypes and my understanding of him is that he’s growing and defining HIS understanding of what it is to be a man and it’s not what the society he’s grown up in deems it to be. I have my own views on Jungkook and his orientation *100% mlm gay*

However not everyone feels the need to label themselves or chooses to and we have no idea when it comes to Jikook, only assumptions. So Jikook may not feel the need to come out because they may not label themselves and feel the need to make that public knowledge through official statements, interviews, on tv etc.

I can’t see this ever being Jikook, just my opinion 🙈

Like you anon I believe they’ll just keep Jikooking. I don’t believe they would if they wanted to ever come out in a public official statement type of way, they’d just live their lives and let people think whatever they wanted to think.

And if they ever did, it’d most likely be when Bangtan are no longer continuously active, seeing as they want to perform on cruises etc in their 60s, who knows when that’ll ever be.

There are some of my friends that think the same as me and some that think they’ll totally come out in a big way one day and not decades and decades in the future.

If you were able to get to the end of this you’re a real one🙌💪

A topic like this is something that I couldn’t answer in a short way. I’m not even close to being finished with what I could say, it’s so nuanced and there’s soo much more that could be talked about but this is already wordy AF 😩

Thank you anon

💜

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Fun Carmy

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy, the other one is Logan, his social alter ego.

I was wondering if Carmy ever had a day of fun in whole life because IMO he has always been that anxious lil kid around others, that we saw in Fishes (02X06), I’m sure. He’s better at the tête-à-tête like the one he briefly had with Michelle that evening

OR as part of small close-knit groups, like that scene in the kitchen (Ceres 01x06).

These assumptions, I think, are also completely backed up by his S1 -Emmy Winning- monologue (Braciole 01x08).

And what I ended up realizing is that FUN CARMEN is not the one we might think we haven’t really seen yet, and that fun for him does NOT look like it may look for us or for a more extrovert type of person.

I happen to be listening to Nina as I type this, and she once said:

I think that quote fits Carmy and his "sense of fun" perfectly.

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy, and at peace Carmy.

This is fun Carmy

Fun for Carmy doesn't look like this

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy

Logan is not "fun", he is actually a source of anxiety for Carmy, and that's why he can't keep him "on" for long. He wasn't lying when he said he wasn't remotely OK at the party (Pop 02x05) because at that point he hadn't turned Logan on yet.

Logan is "The other one", the one most people would label as "fun", because it better fits the social CONSTRUCT of what fun looks like, but Logan Fernello Berzatto is actually his functional alter-ego.

His functional or social alter - ego explained from a behaviorist perspective

We all have functional alter egos, this is related to the PERSONAL constructs concept developed by Psychologist George Kelly. These are formed at a fairly early age, even well within our 20s we are still forming our personalities and constructs or ideas of how the world works and what everything means, and thus how we should interact with and/or react to this world we live in, in other words, how to adapt or not to our environment. Then comes our career that can prolong this formative period even more, for instance, celebs of any age are required to have an alter ego for those occasions on which they have to "turn it on" for the camera or the stage → "the stage persona" that is NEVER the same person as the real one behind the wheel of the "functional alter-ego" and this persona has been formed based on their ideal of what has worked best for them in the past, what their PR team or Managers require of them to get them jobs, etc. They may come across as genuine and relatable but celebs are usually always "on" when we see them even off camera, so they are not, not completely. We all have the "office construct", the "school construct", the "mom chat group construct", etc. That is actually a sign of being well-adjusted to fit in society, and that is why we do not act the exact same way in all those different situations even though we are the same person, because we are not the same "persona" and that's OK. It's not a sign of phoniness, or lack of honesty, although it can definitely turn into that and become dysfunctional when there's an underlying mental health disorder, although it doesn't always turn out like that, thank dog!

In Carmy's case in particular, he can handle Logan and turn him on / off at will, which means he's in that aspect still well-adjusted despite his multiple mental health conditions, probably because none of them is a personality disorder, so it's safe to assume that he somewhat knows what's he's doing, he's choosing it to a certain extent and it's not 100% unconscious, only partially.

His lines are becoming blurry because he let Syd in, whether he admits it or not. And deep down, he knows this but he's not fully willing to go there (yet). That's what S4 is for.

This aligns with the rest of his behavior I already went over in previous posts:

Fun Carmy is the one that California, Copenhagen, and Chicago post-Sydney Adamu brought out in him. He's what most people, not me, would call relaxed, chilled, etc.

Relaxed Carmy, at peace Carmy, coloring Carmy, talking about food and cracking lil jokes under a table Carmy, is FUN CARMY.

We know him already. We've seen him. He just turns him off when he's The Bear or Logan.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋