#so most likely gonna cut the cord

[cray-cray-anime]

What do you think

these are always immensely entertaining to me so reblog and put in the tags if you'd trust your pfp with the aux chord on a road trip.

[alchemistc]

Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.

The knocking continues.

It's getting louder.

There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.

Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.

He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.

Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.

The knocking returns less than a minute later.

---

There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.

Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.

Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.

Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.

Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.

Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.

"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.

Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.

It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.

The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.

"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.

"What are you -?"

"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."

---

He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.

"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.

Buck's scowl.

God.

"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."

"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."

Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."

The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.

"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.

It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.

The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.

This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.

Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.

Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.

That he'd forgotten about.

Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.

"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.

That somehow stings just a little bit extra.

Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.

"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.

"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.

"Cut it out, Buck."

Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."

---

The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.

Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.

Buck almost looks triumphant.

"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."

He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.

Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.

The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.

"This isn't everything."

Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.

"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.

He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.

He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.

Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.

"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.

"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."

"I know."

"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."

"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.

Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."

"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.

"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."

He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.

"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.

Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.

Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.

"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."

It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.

"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."

Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.

"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."

---

He goes in for the kill.

"I called Abby, two nights ago."

Right for the jugular. No survivors.

"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."

Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.

"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.

Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."

The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this."

"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"

"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."

Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."

"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.

"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."

Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.

Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.

He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.

---

There is someone knocking at his door.

Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.

He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.

There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.

[rose-maidenn]

Pick a card : Your 2025 , predictions based on each month

1-2

Hey guys how are you Happy New Year ＼(^-^)／ , I know I delayed a bit (^.^) for this one but hope you enjoy this , if you resonate like and reblog and gimme feedbacks cause that's what keeps me motivated to post 🫶🦢🩷✨️

If you do like my work and would want an in depth reading please check out my :

Masterlist

Paid readings

Pile 1 :

January

I see you starting the year kind of defeated by the previous year it was really hard and tiring for you and tested your faith a lot , you had to make hard choices, I see that you are stuck in a toxic situation or obsessing over something that doesn't serve you . I see that by middle of January it will get better , I do see turmoil in the start but breakthrough is near and it's for you . You will go out to picnics by the end , water bodies will help you , avoid fast food alrighty and make a vision board baby cause this is your year alright .

February

Like I said circumstances will improve I see a quick change of mood in February, is it your birth month ? Celebrations are around . You will feel protected in February things will feel sweeter . You will make a quick decision that will prove to be extremely beneficial for you this maybe about getting in a relationship or joining therapy as well . You might learn more about emotional regulation and heal your heart chakra . You will be grounded in your body and approach life with meaning .

March

There's stubborn energy in march , you are still Taking things slow and steady , the next chapter of your life is about freedom and not in the sense of travelling places alone but in a sense of freedom from other people's judgements and approval I see that you might have a rip off with someone or hear that someone is leaking information about you this might be a fire sign person who's jealous of you hermit for a while and then make a move , plan in silence and win.

April

Now that you have learned a minor lesson of detachment you have vigor and life again, you will seek new opportunities might get a new hobby as well maybe surfing or racing are you info F1 ? You will also get serious about studies some major exam is on the horizon. Nights in April are significant maybe you will do lot of late night studies or sneak out at night or night rides will make you so happy .

May

For may you are in a mood of enjoyment and happiness but remember to work hard there's tendency of you being too engrossed in enjoying that you forget that your labour is yet to be completed, focus on long term goals and possibilities. You might start visiting the temple more often. The person who was leaking info earlier is gonna miss you a lot in may they might even come back to talk ti you again but you're already done with them , you are in a mode of benevolence but yet you know your value well if they do disturb you too much do a cord cutting .

June

Now is the true time to enjoy your fruits of labour you had done in may , your success rate is high you're spiritually aware and emotionally well regulated, you will truly be happy I see reconciliation of someone you loved when you were young maybe a friend or teenage crush kinda vibe , through instagram or something. You are soaring high , your vibrations are too you're close to the sun and your thoughts will create your destiny so think positively.

July

July is also a positive fine with new opportunities and growth in the money sector of your life, if you have a new business idea or creative idea make sure that you invest in it , you will have more energy and vigor in this month but I see you being kind of lost if it's not well decided where you wanna move next so think before you leap work in the right direction and trust god . Also I see that a feminine figure most probably your aunt will get sick so take care of her if she's important to you.

August

August will focus on healing your old wounds , what have you ignored , if you do your healing well by doing shadow work you will get a breakthrough and live well by circumstance , might get a new house , I hear a moving house as well , you also might be s*xually active a lot during this time , Choose your partners wisely. This person might be an air sign . I see you might try to numb your pain but don't this healing will liberate you so choose this .

September

In September you're not giving a fuck about anyone , you're doing what you like how you like , leaving people and situations and praying a lot , I see some sadness about things left behind this could be stuff that didn't work out in business family or love , if it is the person mentioned in August then you can avoid the pain by being cautious and not attaching yourself by simple discernment I see 1111 , you can choose what you want to happen

October

October is literally like live through the pain moment 💀 I see a hike in finances but your mental health is detoriating you're staying alone , thinking too much and explaining too much , it's necessary that you give yourself a break here okay talk to a friend please please I beg because I see these great times for you which you may fail to recognize because you're too much in your head , it's really important to focus on you in October, mute the noise and focus on you . Eat dates , go to a date and save the date because you're a star.

November

Silent night holy night all is calm all is bright energy , this year Christmas is gonna be lit and you're preparing from November haha I see you getting advent calender ordering gifts for yourself and family . You're gonna be In a supernova mode excessive focus on your goals and you're like you will destroy anyone who will come in your way energy , you're protective and calm it's like you're a mafia boss observing your opponent and waiting for your minions to attack , lol you're gonna have fun in November a lot of funn.

December

December calls for a dark night of the soul heavy reflection on your year and the endings you have had this year , despite being scared you were strong and did what had to be done and you're proud of yourself by the middle of the month . I see you cooking a lot and going to shopping a lot mostly groceries you will be more confident and feel amazing in your body if you had a weight loss goal this year drumroll I see you meeting it . Love Love , you're doing great.

Pile 2 :

January :

Fire in your heart and clear vision is what you're going for in January , I see the circumstances might not be the most favourable but you're hopeful in the midst of a chaos, the happenings have made you instill a sense of balance within oneself and clear sight for what you truly want. You will be presented with a choice in January a choice of new life a new belief a new mindset and it will lead to great outcomes , I sense some modelling offer or working in corporate sector .

February:

The opportunities of January seem to be at full action in February you're more confident than ever , you're at eagle eye view towards the things that you want , your intuition is strong now you're observing the small details and working on them to correct them . Like posture, working on a project you really consider important. The advice is to lay on grass and watch the clouds it will give you comfort. Rest and relax and let universe prepare your auspicious way .

March :

Money is incoming in March, as March is actually the astrological new year I see that you will feel it more than the offers the weight of the time and you will look forward to everything, you're not afraid to work hard and you're really admired for those qualities. I see that you might have recovered from a breakup and now you're set on this path all over again , don't be scared the universe holds your hand , it won't set something in your path that you cannot handle.

April :

You will have ample resources in April to the point that you will become detached with money because you realise that there are much more things to life. You will be more spiritual and find fulfillment in your family and spend quality time with them , a kid maybe Born during this time or you might get pregnant so if you don't want that be safe . As for your love life I sense turbulence cause by old people so don't let the oldies in. Work on healing your sacral chakra in April.

May:

In May your love life seems great tbh , movie dates , colouring together , park dates etc a lot will be happening and it's nice to see . And I see in may you might become too detached with money you may feel drained so you catch up now , multiple investments Will be made by you . One of the sectors good for you will be wine , invest in a wine brewery or gold , both will work well. If you worship Lakshmi this is the month you get serious about her cause she's ready to bless you so so much .

June :

June is full of fun with friends but also a lot of endings due to arguments , make sure you more along with the right people and don't settle because in case you're you're moving with idiots they will exactly show you why they are an idiot , might make remarks on your body and make you feel insecure not recommended. I see your partner being supportive and helping you. Ground this June and wear red lipstick man it suits you so so much it drives your partner crazy .

July :

July is a state of recovery , some of you might have felt disconnected with your high-school friends so you seeked new friends or coworkers but this month you will understand that they love you so much and they're always here for you even if it seems hard at times . You will get flowers a lot , I see a guide being extremely protective about you will be an old spirit guide . If you're a saturnian Saturn will be kind to you and you will have the courage to face anything and everything. Your mindset is good .

August:

August is the month you fall in love with the aesthetic value of the things around you , you might go redecorating your entire room or house , tip you should get a gold vase it will be lucky for you I also see some hummingbird symbolism and bells definitely great for you . Your parents will come around and you will feel connected to them a lot. For some of you around this time you might get engaged . I hear San Paolo so omg excited for you .

September :

The energy is quite similar to August, you're just very very excited in September. Might get new shoes and watch old cartoons even do some repair work in your free time . Will come across a red car and would consider even buying a car. Spiritual advancement is also seen you might have started meditating in early July and September will be the month of effects heightened awareness seeks you now . Don't take any drugs okay I see some peer pressure coming in .

October :

444 on my time zone October will be a protected month or it could mean to up your protection game mann you need a sigil to help I do see a sigil it's circle kind of arrow like , kind of reminds me of the vikings. This pile also gives me Vasalisa vibes ( fairytale) . The fire of your heart burns greater than the fire around you're the tree of life and you're the disaster of it and rebuilding of it . Omg why am I writing this one so whimsically maybe that's how you feel very whimsical very witchy .

November :

You're gonna feel really cute first of all , drenched in kisses and you're gonna party Charli xcx style, your worries are lighter your heart is bigger tbh , attending concerts can be something you do or you might start liking a new artist I hear conan gray , suki Waterhouse tbh . A month of crafts as well , creating new things like bags and cards . You seem to be on a break from work in this month or just your work is comparatively easier so you're in a state of rest .

December :

You're in worship mode in December totally offerings and affirmations are your mantra . Your year was a total up down coaster man (*>∀<*) like it had a balance of everything fun and sadness but what remained consistent is the love , romantically this year will be better for you because you have learnt from your past relationship not to depend too much on your partner and it indeed is helping you keep this one and also your mental health . Take care love love to you.

Thanks for reading 🫶

[mysicklove]

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

DAY 8: TOYS

With: Giyuu Tomioka

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Sub! Giyuu, gn! reader, modern day au, vibrators, bullet vibrator, anal play, nipple clams, vibrating cock ring, reader lowkey sadistic, safeword mentioned, giyuu crying/sobbing,

A/N: i struggled writing this and i have no idea why. welp.

���There are so many…Where did you find them?” Giyuu mumbles into your neck, sitting behind you on your shared bed, completely bare. His face has turned a bright red, and hes getting extra clingy, meaning that he must be embarrassed. But he is embarrassed majority of the time you do anything remotely not vanilla, so you are used to it.

You sit with a grin, staring at the items layed in front of you. Most of them are a shade of pink, but some are purple, or dark blue. Toys. You have acquired a bunch of sex toys, and today you were going to try them out on your adorable, stone-faced, boyfriend. “Online. Do you want me to explain what they all are?” 

He nods into the back of your neck, peering over your shoulder, and wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

His eyes scan the multitude of silicon, and the strangely shaped devices. He has never owned nor even talked about sex toys, and the fake pussy is staring right at him, and is making him squirm uncomfortably. You pick it up, laughing at the way he seems to cower at it. “This is a fleshlight. We also have another one over here,” This one was a green color, and just looked like a cylinder with texture on the inside. He liked this one immediately more. “You fuck it instead of your hand.” He blushes at the bluntness of your words but nods.

You set the two down, and Giyuu makes sure to turn away the lewder fleshlight so that it doesn’t face him. You giggle at him but don’t say anything and begin to search for your next item.Your hands trace to a white wand-shaped item, bigger than the rest of them. “Watch this,” You say, clicking on the button to see it jump to life. Giyuu’s eyes widen at the loudness of it, and how strong the vibrations are, and he unconsciously leans into you. “This is a vibrator.” You place it on his chest, and he jumps when they graze his sensitive nipples, shooting you a half-hearted glare. “We also have a bullet vibrator.” You grab the pink circular vibrator with the long attachment cord. “I have some fun ideas for this.” 

He covers his face and groans when you playfully slap his ass. “Alright, two more.”

Giyuus eyes wander to a mental chain with two clamps on both ends. Before you can continue, he cuts you off, pointing to it and mumbling out, “What is this?”

Your face lights up, and you place a hand on his thigh, leaning forward to whisper into his ear teasingly, “Nipple clamps.” You grab the chain from his hand, and pinch the two sides, staring at his chest in awe. “Bet they’ll make your cute nipples all red and swollen,” You sigh, mouth already watering at the idea. 

He flinches, pulling away. “Th-Thats gonna hurt,” The dark-haired man complains, trying to hide away from your sadistic gaze. He squirms when you laugh, and grabs a purple silicon circle, hoping to distract you. “And this?”

“Mhmm, may be my favorite. Cock ring. Prevents you from cumming, and look!” You press the button, sending the toy to life. “It also vibrates. Man, Giyuu, you are going to have so much fun tonight!”

His face pales slightly, and he drops the toy. “I don’t like that one,” He frowns, not liking the idea of not being able to cum at all. 

You peck his mouth, ignoring his complaint. “Hmm, most men don’t. But you’ll look so cute!”

He lets out a small whimper, hoping to coax some sympathy from you, but you just smile at him, petting his head. “It’s gonna be fun. And you will have your safeword. So if you don’t like anything too much, we can stop.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead moving closer to you. You feel something tap your thigh, and grin when you look down. “Well, arent you excited?”

He gulps, looks up at you one more time, and then buries his head into your neck with a whine, mentally preparing for what’s to come.

He was right to prepare, he was already trembling before you even turned anything on. He yelps when you clamp the second nipple on, and you wipe away a stray tear. “Hurts,” he whines, cringing when he glances down at his chest. 

“Sorry love, it’s over now. That was a little uncomfortable, huh Giyuu?” You murmur, cupping his face and kissing his cheek. The words make him feel like a child being comforted after getting wounded, but still, he melts at the tone, playing into it by sniffling and nodding. “Oh you’re so cute, just makes me wanna tease you.”

He whimpers, frowning at you and shaking his head. You pull away and run your fingers down his body, and then sit back on your knees before him. He lays on his back, hands on your knee, while blinking at you, waiting patiently for what’s next to cum.

He lays naked, and with one hand on your knee, seeking comfort. The thin chain connects his two nipples together, and lays lax against his pale chest. On his cock, is the cockring, that sits silently, waiting for you to turn it on. His dick fumes against his stomach, twitching in arousal. Next to him, lay the light green fleshlight (he convinced you to put away the pussy one), and the wand vibrator. And finally, the pink bullet vibrator is up his ass, and grazing his prostate. 

“Alright, let’s start this, yeah? How many times do you think you are gonna cum?” You tease, distracting him as you reach in between his thighs, and click on the vibrator. 

He jumps, sighing out when he feels the low vibrations inside him. “Don’t know,” He mumbles, “Maybe two times?”

You giggle, shaking your head. “Way too low of a guess, silly boy.” The sound of the cockring clicks to life, and Giyuus eyes visibly widen. It was at a higher intensity than the bullet vibrator, and it surprised him.

The two intense feelings send him shivering, and quietly moaning out. His hand grips onto your knee, and he buries his head into the pillow, panting into the soft fabric. You smile at him, and then grab the fleshlight, quickly pouring a copious amount of lube in.

You then steady his hips, huffing a laugh to see them already trembling. Then you force the fleshlight onto his cock, marveling at the lewd squelching noise. 

His reaction is immediate, bucking his hips into it, but then frantically pulling away, as if he was confused. “Wait. Wait. Wait. At the same time?” Giyuu uncharacteristically yelps, eyes wide and staring at you in panic.

You cock your head to the side. “Of course? What did you think we were doing?” He tries to respond, but it’s cut off by a moan when you slide the entire thing back on. It’s too big, considering the cockring covers too much space, so the tip ends about halfway into the toy. 

The vibrations travel to the silicon when the two toys touch, and it sends Giyuu crying out. “F-Fuckkkk. No no no. It’s too much!” 

His hips barely touch the ground anymore. Frantically moving from side to side, and then bucking upward into the toy without his consent. His frantic movements send heat to your groin, and you reach around in between his thighs to turn up the bullet vibrator to the highest level.

His thighs instictually close shut, and your hand almost got caught in his trap. You smack his upper thigh gently, in a tease, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His back is arching and he is gripping the sheets, letting out a silent scream. Giyuus face is buried into the pillow, but he’s whipping his head from side to side, overwhelmed with all the sensations. 

You pump his dick slowly, instead focusing your attention on your obviously overstimulated boyfriend. “I can’t–I can’t. Oh my god, it’s everywhere,” he cries, legs sporadically bending and then kicking out. 

His body forces himself to the side, moving your hand aside, as his hips come up. Then he turns himself completely over, onto his hands and knees as he screams into the pillow, while bucking his hips backward and forward into the two vibrations. He hiccups when he feels his nipples being tugged at by the force of gravity on the clamps. 

“There ya go. More comfortable on your hands and knees?” You don’t wait for him to respond, brushing his hair to the side. “Now, what’s everywhere, Giyuu?”

He sobs something into the pillow, but you can’t hear it, so you gently pinch his thigh. He gets the memo immediately, and pulls away, balancing on shaky hands, as drool coats his face. “T-The vibrations–Everywhere!” He hiccups, lifting his ass higher in the air as his eyes roll back.

A sadistic urge boils in your stomach as you glance at the white vibrator. He was wrong….They weren’t everywhere, and you wanted to change that. With one hand, you bring the fleshlight back to his cock, and then gulp, before picking up the wand, and switching it on. 

He doesn’t hear the new sound of the vibrator, focused completely on the feeling of the fleshlight again. His hips drill into it, and then occasionally arch as if to push himself deeper into the bullet vibrator.

You reach under him, and gently place the wand on the chain. It pulls it down, and also sends vibrations rippling through the chains. 

Giyuu’s eyes widen, and then immediately he sobs into the pillow, cringing as his fists jab into the bed sheets. His nipples are being pulled at, and are vibrating profusely. “Ow. Owwwww, stop stop! Its–I can’t–Oh help me!”

Before you get lost in the mouthwatering view, you are quick to ask if he is all alright. “Your color?”

“Green. Green,” He hiccups, “But you are so–so mean to me!” 

You kiss his upper thigh and continue to move your hands up and down his shaft. His whole body trembles, and the only thing louder than the multiple vibrations, was his constant moans and cries. “But you are gonna cum soon, right, Giyuu?” You coo, watching the way pre begins to dribble out, and helps lube the toy.

He nods into the pillow, body beginning to collapse on itself. You are quick to pull him upright, liking the view of his trembling ass, and shaking dick a little too much. “Bet it's going to be intense,” You mumble, “Bet it’s going to feel so good.”

Your words send his head spinning because you are right. He feels himself approach closer and closer to it, and its never been this intense before. Every sensitive part of his body is being stimulated, and it hasn’t even been five minutes.

You know the signs of your lover beginning to approach his orgasm, and you take the cockring off. One of these days youll use it to deny him his release, but not today, that would be too brutal with everything that is going on. He doesn’t notice, because it’s immediately replaced by the fleshlight fucking him up and down.

 “Please. Please. I–” He falters, forgetting how to speak when his orgasm hits him. His whole body shakes, and he sees white. Every inch of his body is screaming out, and he has got to be on cloud nine. 

He stays silent through it all though, eyes rolling back, and teeth biting into the pillow. Cum shoots out, onto his stomach and the sheets, and you smile through it all. 

His legs collapse moments later and his whole body falls limp against the sheets, jerking sporadically from the continuous vibrations on his prostate. Giyuu felt as if his brain melted, his every thought truly fucked out of him.

He feels his hips being lifted again, your arm supporting him, and he glances at you with hazy blue eyes. “Don’t pass out on me now,” You tease, strapping the cockring back into place. “We still got at least two more orgasms to pull from you.”

And the second the vibrations turn on, he seems to snap awake, but its too late. “W-Wait!” 

You just laugh, and bring the wand vibrator back to his now-redden nipples.

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[mystellenia]

ellie with a clumsy gf ୨ৎ

summary: how ellie cares for her clumsy girlfriend

content: nothing thats nsfw!! just ellie being a cutie concerned gf

notes: answer to this req!! SHES SO PUPU BABYGIRL IN THAT PIC I WANNA BITE HER JFWIBFJWKRJR. she's actually so beautiful i can't. entirely unrelated: idk how i feel about this... but i’m trying not to be like EW I HATE THIS FUCK THIS ITS SO BAD. like i dont even feel like that but we already know how i feel about this formatting. its growing on me tho

(wc 0.39k) so short i know guys i gotta dip my feet

constantly laughing but also concerned at how you manage to trip and bump and bruise yourself up on literal air

in apocalypse au, she's always been very aware of her surroundings bc of patrol and combat and stuff so she tries to keep you out of the way of things that she knows you'll bump into

always has an ice pack chilled and ready to go in the freezer in case you bump yourself real hard and it's sore because ice helps bumps not bruise right when you get them (looking at you guys clumsy ladies write that one down)

always warns you about things right as they're happening since you get into things SO FAST

like just as you're bumping into something or dropping an item she's blurting out, "wait! there's- a shirt on the floor"/"remember- that the washing machine door is open"/"baby, you're gonna drop that- just... like you did just now. you okay?"

always asks what you did to get a new bruise. she'll notice a new one and joke, "oh, what did you do this time?" and you'll respond, "i may have walked into the dishwasher while the door was down... but this one doesn't hurt that bad 😁" it's become like a little game

she's become sooo desensitized to any bump or bang sound in the house bc she knows its just you. not to say she doesn't care about you getting hurt--she immediately throws out a "you good?!" or "you need me?"--she just knows you know what to do: ice pack or heat compress. it's routine now.

read that low vitamin c levels make you bruise easily, so always has vitamin c rich snacks stocked up. oranges and strawberries and other fruits, always ready!

she's so stupid in love that she'll cut the fruits up into hearts or try nd make the most simple little animals with them from some mother of 3's tutorial on instagram reels and genuinely gets upset when she can't recreate them.

^ like you notice her absolutely maiming some apples and ask, "ummm why are you slicing and dicing that poor apple?" and she'll mumble, "it's supposed to be a stupid crab."

and for my ladies with darker skin where bruises aren't as visible or even just pale skin that just doesn't bruise easily, she's still just as concerned. and since there is no visible warning of a sore spot, she's hurriedly apologizing after pressing on a sore spot or laying on a tender patch.

@abbysbug @picklesarenice69

hello to my clitter critters. soooooooo erm sorry about going like basically inactive for like 2 weeks i got into the fight of a lifetime with my mother 😊 we still beefing 😊 dw tho when she's old and wrinkly i’ll have power of attorney and trust the cord WILL be plugged.

like i’m joking but as of now that bitch is an opp fr

but anywhoooo i’m back. and my dinosaur of a laptop had a health scare and i thought i was gonna have to plan a funeral for her but she went to the doctor (apple store) and she's all better. idk how it still works so well now bc my mom got this when obama was still president 😆 don't y'all worry tho this motherboard does nothing but purr we chillin (the fan turns on whenever there are too many graphics moving)

[rsventhesecondd]

headcannons,  ┓

→ Featuring . Hayato Suo as your FUBU ← •

☁️┆ ⤿ request by  @anon 👻 ༺  ╰ ღ WBK :  requests open  ╯🦢

HAYATO SUO as your fubu — head cannons ! •

warnings . contains nsfw , fluff , all characters used are aged up to 18 , f!reader + not proof read yet . note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.  ๑❛ᴗ❛๑ authors note . this is slightly rushed since I had to do something in the midst of editing this draft , but nevertheless— please enjoy reading !

fubu!hayato , who fucks you in the most ridiculous places. Behind a random dark alleyway , inside a bathroom during a party your friend hosted , and everywhere else you could think of.

" W-Wait, what the hell Hayato! We're gonna get caugh— " He cuts you off with a kiss. "Don't worry [name-kun] , nobody really goes here. Atleast for now" Suo assures with his signature smile, a small glint forming in his eye.

fubu!hayato , who knows your body more than you do. He knows which buttons to press , that spot that makes your head turn back from the pleasure, how you act when you're close, – eyes rolling back. He's fully confident that he's probably ruined your future experiences— well if you'll have one other than him.

"What about here? How does it feel?" He questions grazing a a specific spot, causing you to turn your head back– a moan in response. "Do tell me, pretty girl. Remember, closed mouths don't get fed" He added, curling up his fingers in the process.

fubu!hayato , who's such a sadist, getting turned on by your humiliation, begging him to fuck you raw— your whimpers when he angles his hips to reach that spot, or when you call out his first name. You're just too adorable for him, how could he refrain from teasing such cute girl like you?

"The ropes aren't too tight, is it [name-kun]?" He asks in a slightly worried tone. He wouldn't want to hurt his precious doll too much. " No-no.. , " You said, quickly shaking your head. —" hurry up. hurry up. " "Oh? Aren't you a needy one." He teased, gliding his fingers from your clit to your entrance. "Look [name-kun] , I've barely touched you, and you're already so wet." He says with the same tone, slightly laced with an amused one.

fubu!hayato , whos has such a pretty cock— slightly above average ( or not ) , 7 inches long , 7.62 inches when hard. 3.47 inches wide, trimmed , circumcised , curved lightly to the left– and he uses that as an advantage to hit all the right spots. His pretty flushed tip is #EOA6b9 pink, shaft is a creamy #E4D5B4 beige. 2 distinct veins with the longest ranging from the base to the tip on the middle right side, he's sensitive the most there. Excretion is macaroon cream, and when he does, he lets out a soft groan.

" Have you ever thought about how you have such a pretty cock? " You said, tracing around his veins as he shivers, his lips tugging into a grin. "How.. bold of you [name-kun] , " He mutters out out with a groan; amused by your words, almost.. flustered? "I've never really thought about it.. like.. that"

fubu!hayato , who isn't really much of a head pusher or throat fucker, letting you do as you please. And when your tongue glides over his sensitive tip to his veins, he simply just pushes his head back. He really isn't a type of person to curse out so openly, even under a lot of pleasure; but when he gets too stimulated, he let out a sound that is in between a groan and whimper, caressing your hair ever-so slightly.

"Mm— you're doing so good, [name-kun]" He says, letting out a breathy exhale as you kitty lick his tip.

He's so sensitive, but it takes more than just a few minutes to make him cum.

fubu!hayato , who just loves tasting you all over— trailing kisses everywhere. Your neck, shoulder, spinal cord, from your abdomen to your inner thighs, whilst leaving a few marks in the process, letting out a loud pop as he takes his lips off your bruised skin — he just can't get enough of you!

"Ah, I can't seem to get enough of you, [name-kun] , " He says, placing your index and pointing finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. "You're just.. too addictive; even for me" He says against your ears, licking your earlobe.

fubu!hayato , who always leaves fights unscathed. He seems to be the type of person who dislikes being scathed, but when it comes to you leaving both love and bite marks all around his skin, fingernails scratching his back as he rams in your pent up hole— he isn't complaining. Instead, he encourages you to make more.

"Remember to breath. If it ever gets too stimulating, just bite down as hard as you can." He whispers in your ear, shoulders close to your mouth. "W-Wouldn't it leave marks? I thought you didn't like being scathed–" You said, breathless. "Hm, I don't. But when it comes to you, I'd rather you add more." He retorted. If someone does indeed see him without his Quipao, those subtle scratches all over his back— bruised neck and shoulders.. then, he'll just make up some sort of excuse.

sincerely, raven ! — requested by anon 👻 ╯

[muxshwriting]

like father, like son

Bradley Bradshaw x sister!reader

summary: when you crash land, it's not bradley you see coming to save you, it's nick || warnings: plane crashes, head trauma, hallucinating, reader has the callsign hummingbird, broken bones || word count: 1202 || masterlist

"MAYDAY MAYDAY. I'm going down."

Bradley's heart dropped as he watched his sister's plane begin a death spin through the air. Your engine had been washed out sending your plane flying through the air, gradually spinning faster and faster until you couldn't hope to pull it out of the turns.

"Hummingbird, eject." The calm voice of control filtered through your helmet as you reached for the lever between your legs.

Except it didn't move. Your lever was jammed, your canopy wouldn't open. You couldn't eject.

"Negative. My lever is jammed. Repeat, my lever is jammed."

"Try it again. Then go manual."

The worry sets into your bones as you remember your brother is flying with you. "Brad- Roo. I love you-"

Your radio cuts out before Bradley can reply as you start to disconnect everything your connected to, pulling out your comms and removing your oxygen. The plane is still falling to the ground, closer and closer. "Talk to me dad."

Over the radio, Rooster is screaming at you. He's watching your plane get closer and closer to the ground, counting the seconds and waiting to see the parachute release from your plane. But the chute is never released.

"I'm going after her."

"Rooster- No." Maverick began. "They're sending the rescue team out."

"That's my sister Maverick. I'm not gonna leave her to- I'm not leaving her alone."

It doesn't take anymore time for Bradley's brain to decide what he's doing. The moment Bradley's straps were undone, he was jumping from his plane and running to yours. His legs couldn't carry him fast enough as he got closer to the wreckage. There was smoke lazily pouring from the back of the ruined plane that Bradley ignored. He couldn't think about that right now. He clamboured over the wreck, pushing stray pieces of metal out of his way. The cockpit came into view. Except it was empty, you weren't there.

For a split second, the chaos in Bradley's mind calmed as he let himself believe that you had got out in time. But then it returned tenfold. he hadn't seen a parachute deploy and you'd been so close to the ground when he'd looked away. Even if you got out, there's no telling how much damage you'd sustained from hitting the ground.

He screamed your name with a desperation nothing could match. The guttural and heartbreaking sound of a brother who wouldn't survive loosing you. His eyes scanned the landscape until he spotted a bundle of a parachute not too far from the crash. The rope is all tangled and wrapped around the chute as Bradley tear through the fabric and pulls it to let him through.

You're lying in the cradle the chute created. Small cuts and scrapes cover your arms and some of your face from the cords cutting into you as you fell. But what worried Bradley the most was the dripping cut near you temple and the way your leg was crumpled beneath you, bending a way it probably shouldn't. But you're breathing. Your heart is beating and your breathing which means your alive. Bradley hasn't lost you.

Not yet.

He's shaking you awake before his brain catches up and realises that he maybe shouldn't shake someone with a head injury. But you groaned as you came back to consciousness and blearily opened your eyes.

But to you, it wasn't Bradley crouched in front of you, it was your father.

"Dad?"

Your dad frowned, reaching forward and brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "Hummingbird, it's me. It's Roo."

"No. It's Goose. It's Dad, not Roo." Your voice is slurred but you're smiling as you talk to your dad. Or rather who you think is your dad.

Bradley decides it better to let you believe he's his dad than to fight you on this. "Yeah. It's Goose, okay? Are you okay?"

"It kinda hurts."

"What hurts?"

Instead of answering, you sink deeper into delirium. Your smile widens as you push against Bradley's hand that's fussing over you.

"Y/N? Hummingbird, you gotta talk to me. What hurts?"

"Everything." It's a whisper that breaks Bradley's heart. Your smile has dropped, the sheen over your eyes dulled by pain as you seem to come to your senses. "Brad- It hurts."

Bradley's pulling the parachute away from you, unwrapping the cords from your limbs and getting ready to pull you out of the wreck. "I know. But you're gonna be okay. We're gonna get out of here."

"Yeah?"

He can hear the hum of a rescue helicopter growing closer. "Yeah. You're gonna be okay."

"Okay... I love you Roo."

"I know." Brad whispers back. "I love you too Birdy."

Bradley held you close even as the rescue team found you two. He held you even as they checked you for injuries. It wasn't until they had to move you onto a stretcher that he let go but he couldn't leave you alone. He looped his pinky with yours just like you did when you were kids, keeping his hold until he absolutely couldn't. The whole journey back, he held your hand while kneeling at your head whispering anything and everything to you, just so you knew he was there.

He's pulled aside by Maverick as your wheeled down a corridor of the medical centre, finally having to let go. Maverick doesn't let him be deserted for long, pulling him into an embrace that neither wants to end. "She's okay?" He asks just as concerned for your wellbeing.

"She saw Dad."

It's all Bradley says but the mention of Goose sends Mav's head spinning. "She- what?"

"When I found her. It was like she wasn't seeing me there, she was seeing Dad. Mav..." His voice broke as he spoke, the emotions of the last hour pouring out in waves. "I think she'll be okay? Her leg is probably broken, she hit her head but she wasn't majorly hurt any other way."

"Then she'll be okay." Maverick wasn't sure if he was convincing Bradley or himself.

It's hours later that they let Bradley and Mav in to see you, sharing the extent of the damage: a leg broken in two places, a severe concussion, countless scratches and scrapes from the parachute cords and the general rough landing and some bruising all over. But you would be fine. Most importantly, you would be able to fly again.

You stir in the bed, hand twitching as you try and move. Bradley surges forward, holding your hand in his like he had done before. "We're here." He whispered to you. "Me and Mav are here."

"Dad?" It's one word that sends Maverick's heart breaking all over again.

Maverick takes your other hand and presses a kiss to your knuckle. "Uncle Mav's here."

You just smile, squeezing their hands and ignoring the pain. You were back. And maybe your Dad wasn't here but for a split second you could feel him arms around you and you could see him. Maybe he had gone but you still had Bradley and Mav to hold you on the difficult nights and whisper stories into your hair when you couldn't sleep. They would protect you from the storm and never let you go.

[tojiscrack]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

summary: 11.4k words — you spend some time at megumi and yuji’s open game, but spend some more time with someone else there

notes: i was overwhelmed with the amount of asks, messages, comments, and dm’s the last chapter provoked! (in a good way ofc, i loved it 😭). now i’m just curious — a lot of you (as predicted) hated the events of last chapter. you’re definitely not gonna enjoy this one :) anyway, it’s 1hr past the 22nd of dec, and i intended to get this out for megumi’s birthday, so pretend i did. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR GRUMPY PORCUPINE! <3

tw: shouting, BELLOWING, yelling, whatever other words you might use for that lol, and blood, criminals, and gangs

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"the raven himself is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance of duncan under my battlements ... come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts!"

the stage lights cast a soft glow, illuminating you as you delivered your lines with striking conviction. it wasn't a performance for a packed auditorium, but a rehearsal for your extracurricular theatre club.

the room was mostly empty, save for a few of your peers and your director, yet megumi could feel the atmosphere buzzing with quiet focus. your voice filled the space, and he silently appreciated how you could throw yourself into a character so conniving like lady macbeth and then jump right into being your bubbly self once again, as though you hadn't just emasculated poor macbeth trembling on the other side of the stage.

not that he'd ever tell you that. the most you'd get is a pat on the head, and even that seemed to be a bit much for megumi.

the lack of an audience didn't matter to you, it seemed; you poured your entire heart into the scene, as if the world were watching.

but it was easy to remind himself of the fact that it was a rehearsal and not a real performance, for every time you reached that exact line, you'd let out a snort and turn away with the same maturity as a child. megumi became more and more unimpressed each time it happened.

"y/n," the director called out, her voice made ten times louder from the echo of the megaphone.

you nodded, but still failed to wipe that grin off your face.

"i got it," you assured her, and megumi had almost missed what you'd said when the loud movement of the seats from somewhere in the backrow had sounded for the nth time. you schooled your face with an expression of determination, but megumi could see the underlying hint of amusement, clear as day. "unsex me here! and fill me from the —"

you'd cut yourself off with your laughter, the sound of it only resulting in more groans from your peers backstage, but megumi only watched you with a raised brow, mentally cursing whoever was making that stupid chair noise from the backrow — your laughter had been drowned out by it.

"i can't do it," you chortled, using the pages of your script to hide your face. "i can't do it!"

the director's sigh echoed around the hall.

"right, adjust the flower crown 'cause it's sitting on the edge of your head, and let's do act five, scene one."

megumi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he observed the stage's organised chaos. you and your peers bustled about, setting up for the transition to the next scene.

the props crew adjusted the minimalistic set pieces while one of your friends struggled to untangle a misplaced curtain cord. you briefly stepped offstage, laughing with another castmate as they adjusted your flower crown to sit properly atop your head.

as the lights dimmed slightly in preparation, megumi looked up again, his patience steady, fully expecting to see you dive back into the character of lady macbeth without skipping a beat.

and you had — straight away.

you were now at the centre of the stage once more, standing by a fake sink — a prop — your arms extended before you, one hand holding your script, the other with fingers curled towards yourself.

"out, damned spot!" you began, voice striking. "out, i say!"

there was a pause, and megumi half believed that you had forgotten the rest of your lines (even though you were reading out of a paper script held in your hand) but then you looked up, apparently going to improv.

"out, damned fricking spot! get out of here! you damned — damned spot, get away and just — just go and leave and why don't you just leave —"

"y/n," the director called out your name, tone firm and scolding. "stick to the scri— oh for god's —"

you laughed loudly, shaking your head and standing still, your hands back at your side.

"'kay i'm sorry," you sighed, and megumi could tell that you were genuine, but he knew the director couldn't. from his seat in the audience, the director's eyes had narrowed, her megaphone now at her side as she raised a brow at you, the lines on her forehead prominent as ever.

"i'll start again," you told her, and megumi had to strain to catch that, for the stupid chair noise had echoed around the hall again.

you had lifted your script and began hurriedly rereading your lines, but when your eyes had lifted and skimmed the hall, passing megumi's, he frowned when you stumbled, almost looking as though you had attempted to retreat in fear.

"what just happened?" the director's voice called out through the megaphone again.

you furrowed your brows and squinted your eyes. megumi held back a scowl. what the hell were you up to now?

you eventually answered the question, but only after you'd become comfortable at the centre of the stage again, nodding to yourself with a smile.

"ah, sorry," you said, meeting her stern gaze sheepishly. "the outline of megumi's head just scared me for a second —"

the scowl that he'd been trying his hardest to hold back had been released, and it only deepened at the sound of the people backstage — your foolish classmates — laughing along.

there was nothing funny about that, and if he chose to tell all of them about your mermaid fiasco several years ago, you wouldn't find it funny then.

he sunk in his seat, throwing you a glare you probably couldn't see very well seeing as the rest of the auditorium was dark; the only lights being shun were the ones on the stage.

"if she wasn't my best lead, i would've kicked her out by now," the director whispered, only, it had been (accidentally) spoken with the megaphone on.

she quickly turned it off, but it had been too late: you'd already heard it.

your lips parted slightly, eyebrows raised in mild offense, but the glimmer in your eyes betrayed a certain smugness. you glanced briefly at the director with mock indignation, a hand coming to rest on your hip as if you were about to deliver a snarky comeback, but instead, you simply shook your head and turned back to your script, a faint, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

megumi watched this unfold, his expression still maintaining that bitter scowl.

while the comment seemed to have both bruised and inflated your ego, he wasn't surprised. you'd always had this uncanny ability to balance between taking yourself seriously and not at all. best lead, he thought dryly, watching with half lidded eyes as you delivered your next few lines correctly. if only she knew how many times he'd seen you trip over thin air or forget half your lines in the name of a 'creative process'. still, he begrudgingly admitted to himself that, onstage, you were captivating — even if it happened to be for the wrong reasons half the time.

as the rehearsal wound down, you and your peers began packing up on stage. megumi used his phone to check the time.

it was time to go home.

scripts were gathered and props carefully returned to their designated spots by the crew. the faint creak of the stageboards accompanied the bustle, with one of your classmates complaining about how she couldn't find her missing pencil while another laughed at something whispered behind the curtains.

you slipped off your flower crown, adjusting it absentmindedly before tossing it onto a nearby prop table, and joined the group tidying up. the director had long since stopped barking orders and now stood by the edge of the stage, chatting with one of the seniors about next week's rehearsal schedule.

megumi stood from his seat with a quiet sigh, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he made his way towards the backstage area, but not without stopping to throw the annoying person at the back row with the noisy chair a glance.

the person was now standing, but the automatic chair had slammed itself shut, allowing that loud noise to carry itself around the hall.

megumi had made his way towards the wall by the side curtain, his nose scrunched at the person — their silhouette showing that it was a guy around the same height as himself.

he had left the hall abruptly as megumi leaned against the wall, waiting for you to finish up, his gaze idly tracking your movements.

you turned around and jumped.

"ah, porcupine!" you gasped, unclipping your bracelets absentmindedly. "you need to announce your arrival, you scared m—"

"shut up, mermaid," he snapped, his patience running thin.

your lips pressed themselves into a tight line, eyes narrowing as you straightened your posture and clenched your jaw, willing yourself to keep your composure, though the sharpness in your movements — tossing your bracelets into the props table with more force than necessary —betrayed your irritation.

"i'm gonna call security on you," you threatened him, the corner of your mouth twitching as if you were fighting the urge to scowl outright, but instead, you busied yourself with adjusting your hair. the flower crown had messed the top of it.

"why are you tapping your head like that?" he questioned, not even entertaining the empty threat you'd shot at him.

"'cause if i'm not careful, i'll end up looking like a punk," you answered, before intentionally eyeing his dishevelled, fluffy hair. you met his sharpened gaze with a look of faux remorse. "yikes."

there was a glint of something dangerous in his eyes as he watched you try to unclip the necklace hanging delicately on your collarbone — a warning, sharp and unspoken, that clearly said: watch it.

"turn around," he grumbled, when it became apparent that it was going to take a while for you to finally manage taking the ugly necklace off.

you complied without much protest. however, that didn't mean that you did so silently:

"could be nicer about i— ow, porcupine! it's got my hair, it's got my hair!"

"stop moving," megumi demanded, messily throwing your hair over your shoulder to your front. he grunted under his breath when you continued to struggle against him. "squirming like a mermaid —"

your reaction was immediate, bristling with indignation as your head snapped around to glare at him, though the position made it awkward. if he wasn't fiddling with the clasp at the base of your neck, you might've been tempted to swat at his hands, but instead, you turned your focus forward, muttering something unintelligible under your breath that was undoubtedly not complimentary.

you flinched when he had finally managed to successfully unclip the necklace, but only when it continued to tug at the hairs at the back of your neck.

"porcupine — ow! oh my g— stop!" you complained, your eyes watering and knees bending as megumi tugged at the necklace again.

"how else am i supposed to take it off?" he shot back, grumpy.

"i'mgonnaendupinahospitalbedlikeallthoseyearsagoandnearlydie—"

"you never nearly died," said megumi, emphasising his point by cruelly pulling the necklace down again. you had stumbled back into him, but he remained stagnant where he stood, brows furrowed in both annoyance and deep concentration. "don't be stupid."

"ouch! you're doing it on purpose now, you — porcu—"

"right, who is porcupine?" the director's voice cut through the air like a whip, sharp and demanding attention.

the two of you looked up abruptly: she was standing before you, arms raised (and brows furrowed) in confusion.

deadpanned, you shot megumi a quick glance before addressing her.

"... is it really that hard to guess, looking between the two of us?"

at that, megumi had harshly pulled the necklace, taking some of your hair with it.

you squeaked, your hand immediately going up to ease the pain as you spun around and stared at his hand, the necklace holding bits of your hair cut fresh from the top of your neck.

"..."

"..."

"... okay, what is going on here?" the director asked, her eyes following the prop as megumi casually threw it over your head and onto the table behind you.

megumi barely had time to blink after that before you lunged at him, your hands diving into his hair with startling precision.

you yanked back with just enough force to rip out a few strands, his grunt of annoyance and pain echoing around the hall as the director stood frozen, her expression caught somewhere between bewildered disbelief and an exasperated sigh, as though contemplating whether this entire exchange was even worth addressing.

"right, y/n —"

"now we're even!" you snapped, as though the woman beside you hadn't spoken at all. you presented the dark hairs to megumi, and then purposefully made him watch as you slowly pocketed them, taking your sweet time and relishing in the crease between his brows that continued to deepen the longer you drew it out.

"you're a weirdo," he stated icily, but you turned away, paying him no mind.

"keep talking and i'm gonna get nobara's voodoo doll."

the two of you exited the auditorium together, the air practically vibrating with the quiet reluctance of megumi's brooding presence beside you.

he strode with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, meanwhile, you walked with an air of triumph, your fingers slipping into your own pocket every so often to toy with the strands of his hair, a small grin tugging at your lips every time you caught the subtle crackle of his growing irritation.

he deserved it.

"what did you think of rehearsal?" you asked him curiously. "lady macbeth's lines are so funny —"

"they're not funny," megumi disagreed bluntly. he sounded genuine. "you're just immature."

you showed him the strands of his hair that you'd passionately held onto in your pocket.

"say that again," you challenged, brows raised.

he merely swatted your wrist away with a scowl; you pocketed his hair with a shrug.

"as i was saying," you continued, as the two of you exited the school, "the macbeth play isn't gonna have a proper audience anyway, so i'm not too fussed about perfecting lady macbeth's lines. it's gonna be recorded tho! what did you think of it so far?"

megumi narrowed his eyes, the sun peeking out from over the clouds bright enough to blind him momentarily.

"couldn't even hear anything 'cause of the idiot sitting at the back," he told you with a scowl.

you laughed, brows raised in intrigue.

"yeah, they've been here for the past week or so," you informed your friend, chuckling at his sour expression.

"why don't you kick him out?"

"if we were to kick out every single disturbance, you would be sitting outside every day, porcupine."

"i'm not a disturbance."

"your hair is though."

"shut up."

as you neared the bike rack, you spotted yuji and nobara waiting for the two of you by their respective bikes.

yuji's was unmistakably bright — an electric blue frame with neon green accents that megumi thought perfectly screamed his excitable personality, complete with a flashy bell he had been spinning absentmindedly. nobara's, in contrast, was a sleek, matte-black with a subtle crimson stripe running along the frame. as the two of them looked up at your approach, yuji tilted his head with a toothy grin, arm raised in the air, already waving.

megumi believed that your bike stood out against the others, its pastel yellow frame and front basket adorned with a bunch of small, faux daisies that gave it a cheerful, almost whimsical vibe.

he approached his own as the three of you jumped into conversation with one another.

megumi's bike, dark navy and utterly plain, had been parked beside yours — you never failed to remind him how it looked like a sullen counterpart. he didn't care: it was his bike after all, not yours.

"my parents are working late again," yuji added brightly. he was sitting on his bike, waiting for the rest of you to clip on your helmets and do the same. "grandpa's home, and choso's at his place, so we basically have the house to ourselves tonight."

you silently nodded, hanging your bag on the right handlebar.

megumi scowled at nobara, who had seated herself on her bike, discarding her phone in her bag and zipping it up without another word.

"put your helmet on," he demanded her.

she looked up at him with a stony expression, her lips set in a straight line and brows furrowed as though to say 'are you talking to me?'.

"i'm having a bad hair day today —"

yuji frowned, looking bewildered:

"— but your hair looks nice —"

"shut up," snapped nobara, continuing as though you had not laughed loudly at the falter in yuji's bemused smile. you swerved away from his leg when he extended it to kick at your bike. "i'm not gonna make it worse by putting on that helmet."

megumi did not look impressed by her answer, throwing one of his legs over his bike to sit down and unclip his own helmet, glaring at her all the while.

"you're turning into the mermaid —"

"what the hell?" you demanded angrily, gesturing to your own helmet, which was conveniently sitting on your head. "i'm wearing mine!"

megumi's face tightened, jaw tensed as though he were biting back a sharp retort. one hand gripped the handlebar of his bike firmly, while the other toyed with the edge of his helmet, spinning it idly in a way that betrayed his rising frustration.

"i know why you're hesitating to wear yours," you shot back, offended by his jab at you, unprovoked. "it'll flatten down your sea-urchin hair and make you look like your dad —"

"watch it," he warned you icily, a short, clipped exhale leaving his nose as he glanced between you and nobara, his expression a mix of exasperation and resignation, like he'd just resigned to a battle he never wanted to fight in the first place.

the sky stretched above in a pale canvas of soft blues and muted golds, the sun dipping lazily towards the horizon, its warm light spilling across the school front in delicate, golden hues. the four of you had mounted your bikes and had already begun cycling down the road, away from the busy bus route yuji would usually take and down the quiet neighbourhood, away from the loud traffic lights.

wisps of cotton-like clouds floated idly, their edges tinged with blush and amber as the day prepared to give way to the evening the longer the four of you bickered and laughed, simultaneously being wary of the occasional car that would pass by every now and then. the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the crisp, earthy scent of early autumn. your shadows stretched long across the crosswalk, mingling with the sporadic glint of sunlight reflecting off the polished metal frames of your bikes.

"grandpa went to the store the other day," yuji loudly spoke. he was riding his bike beside you while megumi and nobara cycled just ahead. "he bought a bunch of new films for us! we can watch the nun tonight!"

"is it wise to watch a horror movie at your place?" nobara called out, her hair a lighter shade where the sun hit it.

yuji looked bewildered at her question. "but we always watch horror movies at my place..."

"no, she's right!" you added, eyes wide. "what if we accidentally trigger the s word somehow?"

yuji's expression shifted almost comically as the realisation dawned on him, his brows furrowing in confusion before lifting in sudden clarity. he sat upright on his bike, one hand tightening on the handlebars as if steadying himself, while his other hand shot up to nervously scratch the back of his head.

"oi, use both hands," megumi demanded from up front.

yuji silently complied, though his eyes remained glued on you.

"sukuna won't —"

"don't say his name," you hissed, brows furrowed in both anger and panic.

yuji's wide-eyed expression stayed constant as the conversation continued.

"wait, it should be fine, guys," nobara had intervened, one hand holding onto her bike while the other extended itself towards the brooding, dark-haired male cycling beside her. "we have megumi — he's great at protecting us!"

megumi shot her a sharp look as he swatted her hand away. apparently, he did not agree with this idea.

"remember when he pushed su—"

"nobara!"

"— the s word away from us when he said he'd rip our hair out and use them as handcuffs?" she continued, as you cycled behind her with a wariness only the demon could bring out of you. "he comes up with the most creative threats, y'know. sometimes i'm a little impressed, but my hair's too short for handcuffs —"

"he wanted us bald," you reminded her helpfully, "so that means ripping your hair from the roots, which is long enough for handcuffs, paired with mine, too."

"that's irrelevant," said megumi, his hair standing up as the four of you cycled through the breeze. you imagined him looking rather silly from the front, seeing as the back was serving enough laughs out of both you and yuji. "and i can't do much today anyway. after the movie, i have to look over sharmin and miwa's history homework."

you frowned at the back of his head.

"you're doing their homework?" you asked, sounding offended.

"they asked me to look over it before practice today," megumi answered calmly, "but i didn't have time, so i said i'd do it later today and give it back to them tomorrow."

that did not sit right with you, not when megumi always refused to do your homework whenever you asked.

you pedalled faster and slipped in between megumi and nobara, shooting him a look of disapproval.

"any time i ask you to do my homework, you refuse," you told him with a raised brow.

"same goes for them," megumi responded, throwing nobara (who was now behind the two of you) and yuji both a look a warning glance for arguing over nothing loudly. "i'm not doing their homework. i'm looking over it."

you shrugged. "yeah that's what i ask you to do, too."

"no you don't."

"yes i do!"

"you don't."

"i do!"

"you don't," megumi snapped, his patience thin. "you lie about being sick and try to guilt trip me into it —"

"accusations!" you gasped, lifting one hand to point at him dramatically. "false accusations!"

you'd nearly lost your balance on your bike due to how quickly you had sat up and let go of the handlebars. megumi, once again, extended his own arm and directed your bike properly again, but not without clicking his tongue at you in distaste.

"y/n!" nobara called for you from behind.

you looked over your shoulder and then regretted it when megumi flicked your forehead in warning. you turned back around abruptly, narrowing your eyes at him as they watered.

he didn't have to do it so hard, you thought to yourself grumpily.

"nobara, i can't look at you 'cause of the bike police over here —"

"shut up."

despite megumi's harsh criticism, nobara had continued to talk anyway.

"yuji's hair is nothing like miwa's, right?" she said, and you did not have to look back to be aware of yuji's frown of both annoyance and disappointment. "his is like a dull pink —"

yuji did not like that. "hey!"

"miwa's looks better," you responded easily. it hadn't been a difficult decision after all: you remembered the day miwa had walked past the school doors with the long, blue hair that ran past her shoulders and spine. "the blue suits her! and the bangs too!"

"told you," you heard nobara's smug voice add.

"it also matches her eyes," you commented with a smile. "you can't say the same, yuji."

"wha— megumi!" yuji shouted desperately. "help me out!"

you glanced over at megumi's face. he seemed indifferent, as always, but his response had said otherwise.

he had shrugged, relaxed. "they're right."

yuji's wail of misery only had the three of you threatening to leave him behind. he had sulked for a bit, but eventually joined in on the next set of conversations you found yourself immersed in for a portion of the remainder of the journey.

the sun hung low on the horizon, its amber glow spilling across the quiet neighborhood like molten gold. the bungalows stood neatly in rows, their silhouettes softened by the warm, fading light, and the occasional flicker of a porch light hinted at the coming dusk, while the air seemed to grow still, as though welcoming the four of you to yuji's neighbourhood again.

"you can't do it," you told yuji, who had been adamant in showing all of you a trick that choso had taught him on his bike the other day. you threw him a look of disbelief from over your shoulder.

your bike had swerved unexpectedly, and when you turned back around to regain control, you noted that it was megumi, who had his hand on the front of your bike, apparently saving you from having ridden over a large rock in the middle of the road.

"i can!" yuji protested, riding past both you and megumi to keep up with nobara, who had long since ridden ahead. "just watch!"

"don't do it, you idiot," megumi chided, glaring at the back of yuji's pink head.

"but —"

megumi cut across him harshly. "you're gonna fall."

"i won't!" yuji shouted back, eyes wide with exhilaration. "i've done it a hundred times already! just look!"

yuji surged forwards on his bike, his grin brimming with confidence as he positioned himself to attempt the trick. he shifted his weight back, tugging up on the handlebars with a flourish to lift the front wheel off the ground.

for a brief, fleeting moment, the bike wobbled in perfect balance, his exhilarated laughter ringing out in triumph.

but then the balance tipped — too far back — and the wheel slammed down awkwardly.

yuji, unable to steady himself, tumbled sideways onto the road with a loud thud, his limbs sprawling across the sidewalk. his bike clattered noisily beside him, the bell letting out an inadvertent chime as it hit the ground.

the three of you stopped, a beat of stunned silence passing before laughter broke out simultaneously: nobara had doubled over her handlebars, wheezing as she clutched her side, while you clapped a hand over your mouth, struggling to stifle your snickers. even megumi's usual stoic expression cracked slightly, his lips twitching as he muttered something under his breath and shook his head.

yuji groaned dramatically, sprawled out on the concrete road like a tragic hero, but none of you made a move to help him, not even when he asked.

"guys..." he called out weakly, face scrunched in pain. he extended his arm shakily, eyes half-lidded. "help..."

you shot a glance at nobara, holding your breath to try and stop yourself from snorting out another round of laughs, before turning your bike around and cycling away.

"just go, leave him," you hurriedly told her, your legs working quickly on the pedals of your bike.

yuji lifted his head.

she did not hesitate in following suit.

"we warned you!" she called out with a wide grin.

megumi had not said a word as he, too, seemed to agree with the both of you, his feet pressing down on the pedals a little faster.

"go, don't look back," you muttered, kicking off your bikes to continue cycling down the road.

you laughed merrily as his calls of protest grew faint the further you rode away, leaving him to flail on the ground, loudly lamenting his fate.

but of course, you weren't evil — perhaps nobara was, though — for you and megumi had turned on your bikes to get him, and she had been the only one who let out a groan of exhaustion at the mere thought of it.

but the funniest part wasn't the way you'd found yuji lying on the road in the exact same way you'd left him, nor was it the way his eyes had lightened up at the sight of you...

it was how he had remained firm on giving you all the silent treatment the rest of the way to his house, and how he had been struggling to do so, for if anyone was an expert, qualified chatter, it was yuji itadori.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the football field stretched wide under the fading light, its green expanse marked with crisp white lines that gleamed faintly in the late afternoon. you were standing on the bench at the front row, watching the football players dart across the field.

it was jujutsu high's open game for the football team, which (by the school's definition) was a practice session open for the general school public to attend.

your eyes followed the ball as it sailed through the air, a blur of motion intercepted by a leaping player — chad, you noticed with raised brows, as the whistle from coach yaga encouraged the rest of the team to push forward.

your eyes had scoured the players in search of your friends. you couldn't exactly tell who was who because of the uniform and helmet that would conceal both their bodies and their faces, so you could only rely on their player numbers displayed on both the fronts and backs of their jerseys.

player number one — who was currently sprinting alongside massive player number six — was yuji. you never bothered him when he concentrated on the game. you usually saved the disturbance for when he'd done something to piss you off (like intentionally telling your spanish teacher that you deleted duolingo off your phone to spare some storage).

player number two was who you were really looking for, and it only brought a smile to your face when you'd found him — megumi — sprinting the other way.

"you're going the wrong way, megumi!" you helpfully reminded him.

he ignored you, as per usual. but you noticed, with triumph, how his legs had started to slow down.

beneath his helmet, you were certain he was gritting his teeth.

"the ball's that's way!" you called out, one hand cupping the side of your mouth, the other benevolently pointing at player number eight, who was now in possession of the ball. "what are you doing?"

megumi had approached coach yaga, and from where you were stood, accompanied by the chatter of the other onlookers, you could not hear what was being exchanged between the two. the sharp glare that coach yaga had shot you was a lot to go by, however, not that you cared.

you hadn't cared in middle school, you wouldn't care now.

yaga knew that very well.

megumi turned away and had begun jogging towards his teammates again. you shook your head, your foot tapping the metal of the bench impatiently.

"well it's too late for that now!" you told him, tutting in disapproval. "they've gone and scored without you! oh — hi toge!"

player number six, todo, was a towering presence, and you watched as he charged across the field with the ball tucked firmly under his arm, shrugging off attempted tackles like they were nothing more than minor inconveniences. close behind, yuji darted around the defence with his usual agility, his movements quick and unpredictable, drawing shouts of encouragement from somewhere behind you, because — right, that was a thing now — he had gained quite a few admirers over the last week, not that he had been aware of it. the only reason you knew was because of an occasion last week where you and nobara had camped inside a singular stall in the girls' toilets, overhearing a conversation between a few sophomores and juniors.

megumi was now in possession of the ball, and though he wasn't as speedy as yuji, he excelled in the game by being strategic, which compensated for the lack of agility.

he's doing well, you thought to yourself. it was too bad you enjoyed poking fun at him.

you exaggeratedly waved both arms in the air as if directing imaginary traffic, calling out random, unhelpful advice about the game. his head had turned for a fraction of a second, and that had been enough to encourage you to go further.

"quick! the small one's behind you!" you called out, your expression grave. you chuckled when he actually looked over his shoulder. "haha! made you look —"

"— l/n!"

your eyes travelled across the field to meet yaga's, shielded by his sunglasses. he didn't look pleased in the slightest, but he hadn't said anything else when you stared back at him.

your name was his first warning.

you shrugged and turned back to the game, mimicking a referee's whistle sound — poorly, of course — just to see if it would make megumi glance your way again.

it didn't, but you had not missed the way he'd quickened his steps, an act to try and free himself from being forced to listen to your constant shouts and yells.

"megumi! spell red!" you called out to him, your hands cupping your mouth. he turned around and narrowed his eyes at you, a menacing glint circling in each of his irises. "no? okay, i'll do it for you! L — S — T — E — R —"

the field erupted with laughter.

number six, todo, was the first to lose it, nearly doubling over as he slapped his thigh, while yuji could barely stay upright, clutching his sides and wheezing between gasps of air. the entire team seemed to pause, their focus on the game completely derailed, as they recalled the viral meme and the ridiculousness of your performance.

yaga, however, was not amused. he blew his whistle sharply, barking at the players to get back into formation, his forehead veins looking like they might burst at any second.

"keep laughing, and you'll all be running laps until the sun sets!" he roared, but his threats only managed to stifle the laughter into barely concealed snickers. "and you — stop opening that damned mouth of yours!"

meanwhile, megumi shot you a glare so venomous, it could have melted steel. his fists clenched at his sides, and you could see the subtle rise and fall of his shoulders as he tried to rein in his irritation.

"stop," he snapped, his voice dripping with exasperation.

"all right, all right," you sighed, before cupping your mouth again. "spell megumi! T — O — J — Y!"

megumi stood in the centre of the grassy field, arms by his sides, like a child refusing to comply to rules. you could see the way his jaw had clenched at your joke.

he had always had this incessant need to be right. to correct you when you were wrong. to show off his brilliance.

you could see him fighting a losing battle.

"that's not how you spell my dad's name —" he'd started angrily, but the sound of yaga's whistle had cut through anything you had wanted to say in response.

"IS THIS THE SPELLING BEE?" he demanded, irate. "fushiguro!" he'd all but bellowed, teeth gritted. "why are your legs not moving?"

megumi turned to face his teacher.

"she spelled my dad's name wrong —"

"IS YOUR DAD HERE TO BEAR WITNESS?"

"..."

"GET BACK TO YOUR TEAMMATES!"

megumi had made a move to leave, but at the sound of your snickers, he stopped, lifting his arm and pointing it in your direction.

"kick her out," he'd said — correction: demanded — without hesitation.

your mouth fell open in sheer disbelief, arms extended outwards in confusion as you glared at megumi like he'd just committed the ultimate betrayal.

kick you out? the audacity, you mentally marvelled.

you weren't even on the field, which you could've easily invaded if you had wanted to. you were merely offering a bit of moral support (albeit in your own unique, slightly chaotic way).

"that's a breach of my human rights," you alerted both your teacher and your friend. then, you shifted your attention to only coach yaga. "he's not even participating! personally, i think he should be benched!"

"l/n, sit down and SHUT UP!"

"no, seriously!" you insisted, crouching down to untie your shoelaces. "i can replace him on the field!"

megumi turned around again to face you this time. even though his helmet made it hard to see his face properly, you could see the way he'd narrowed his eyes at you. "you don't even know how to play properly —"

"well i'd do a hell of a lot better than what you're doing," you told him, standing up again and folding your arms over your chest. "which is nothing, by the way."

coach yaga had had enough:

"FUSHIGURO, STOP ENGAGING WITH HER AND MOVE UP THE FIELD!"

megumi faced the angry man with, no doubt, a glare of his own. "she's —"

"NOW!" yaga had bellowed, and you could only laugh at the way megumi's fists had clenched, but he'd obediently ran towards the other players (not without shooting you a glower, though).

you chuckled at his reaction, but choked on it when coach yaga had mercilessly turned to you next.

"SIT. DOWN. L/N," he ordered you, the hand holding the whistle lined with angry veins threatening to pop. you could see one on his forehead, too.

you opened your mouth to oppose, but he'd blown his whistle so you couldn't even hear yourself speak.

and this had become a recurring theme.

any time your lips would part — whether to cheer for a play, yell sarcastic advice at megumi, or protest yaga's increasingly dictatorial tone — the sharp, ear-piercing sound of his whistle cut through the air, drowning you out completely. he'd positioned himself nearby, whistle ready at his lips, as though waiting for the exact moment you dared to utter a sound.

you even tried whispering once, only for him to blow it louder than ever, causing you to flinch and clutch your ears.

the message was clear: coach yaga would not tolerate your antics.

but his overzealous whistle-blowing had unintended consequences, ones that had you giggling into your hands.

the players, accustomed to the whistle being a signal for key game instructions, had begun growing confused by the constant interruptions. at one point, both kamo and logan parker hesitated mid-play, unsure whether the sharp whistle had been meant to signal an offside or something else entirely, and this had led to an awkward collision on the field — logal tripping over kamo as the latter tried to pivot too late — and the two of them ended up sprawled in a tangled heap.

and yaga, visibly frustrated by both the situation at hand and the rhythm of your constant laughter, had no choice but to bench them both, muttering something about how some people were ruining his practice.

"your hair's a mess," you told kamo, when he'd approached the bench you were standing on with his helmet beneath his arm.

"thanks, didn't notice," he responded, blowing the loose strands of his hair out of his face.

you eyed him carefully as he sat by your feet, his knees an angry shade of red where he'd fallen due to the collision.

"does that hurt?" you asked, frowning. "you could sue yaga for blowing his whistle and causing confusion."

kamo peered up at you, his elbows resting on his thighs, his back hunched over in such a way that chiropractors would be disappointed by. you couldn't quite paint what he was thinking, for his face, so devoid of any and all emotion, made it so that his lips were set in a straight line and his eyes would remain half-lidded.

"you can!" you continued, as though he'd voiced his uncertainty to you. "and you can show your knees for proof!"

kamo kept his gaze fixed on the game, following the flow of plays that unfolded without him. you couldn't quite paint what he was feeling in that moment, for his expression was a mix of irritation and fatigue as he lazily tossed his helmet to the ground with a dull clatter.

"i'll remember to bring in a formal complaint tomorrow, then," he added, his eyes following player number five, who was in possession of the ball.

"i'll be your backup!" you told him enthusiastically. when he peered up at you, expectant, you clarified yourself. "y'know, for moral support."

"hold my hand and everything?"

you grinned. "all right, don't get ahead of yourself now."

"my bad," he said, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hairs out of his face. his dark hair had been tied back with a flimsy rubber-band into a low, loose bun, which apparently proved worthless in a rough game of football.

at the centre of the field, andre johnson clapped his hands loudly, rallying the players into position as he directed the next play with precision. toge stood further back, his sharp eyes scanning the field, ready to intercept, while todo, living up to his reputation, plowed through the defence like a battering ram, drawing cheers from his teammates.

you felt bad for the players that had ended up on the floor because of his onslaught of attacks.

one of them just so happened to be yuji.

and as you jested loudly at his limp body, todo stared back at him, horrified:

"BROTHER —"

"ooh..." you marvelled, standing on your tip-toes as todo ignored the game altogether and charged the other way. everyone except for megumi had moved out of the way. "might wanna put that one on a leash..."

your eyes had darted from the game to kamo, and back again.

"no offence, kamotionless..."

"none taken."

the two of you watched as megumi extended his hand to your pink-haired, groaning friend on the floor, intrigued as he accepted his help in pulling himself up.

both their heads had turned to face you.

yuji's lips parted in a comical frown, his hand clutching his lower back as he turned to glare at you with all the indignation he could muster. you could only chuckle at him, for his pink hair was dusted with grass and dirt from the collision, and his expression screamed betrayal.

raising one hand, he offered you an exaggerated thumbs-down, shaking it slowly as though to emphasise just how unimpressed he was.

you stared back at him, brow raised as you placed a pointer finger on your chest, mouthing 'me?'.

his exaggerated nod made you scowl at him and look at megumi instead, but his stare wasn't any better, for it had lingered on you longer than necessary: his sharp eyes had darkened as they subtly drifted downwards, his expression tightening ever so slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was irritation or something else entirely.

he was still pissed at your interruption of the game from earlier, clearly, for his stance had been tinged with quiet discontent, as though he'd seen something he didn't quite like.

rude, you thought to yourself, i stopped yelling at him and i'm likeable.

whatever it was, he said nothing, his eyes snapping back to the field with a stoicism that betrayed nothing outwardly.

across the field, yaga's voice thundered over the chaos.

"ITADORI! FUSHIGURO! get back to your positions — NOW!"

yuji jumped slightly at the sheer force of his command, but megumi had barely looked fazed, as though this was a common occurrence during practice.

yuji shot one last mournful look in your direction before jogging into place, his steps a little heavier than before. megumi, on the other hand, walked briskly back into formation, his gaze focused ahead, though the rigid set of his shoulders suggested he wasn't entirely composed. yaga's glare followed them both until they were back in line, his frustration simmering visibly as he blew his whistle to resume the play.

"what's the history with you and coach yaga?" kamo had asked, which had greatly surprised, your brows raised as you stared down at him. he took your silence as a sign to continue. "yuji said you met coach yaga in middle school."

"oh my god," you beamed, hopping off the bench to sit down on it. "i'm so glad you asked!"

you dug into your pocket and retrieved your phone, tapping on it excitedly to pull up the set of images in your camera roll that you'd visit so often, it would never catch dust.

the academic years of twenty-fourteen to twenty-sixteen.

"so i met him in the sixth grade," you explained, selecting an image of him from the time you had unexpectedly pulled your phone out in the middle of the corridor and snapped a headshot. "that's what he looked like back then, so, not that different. still got that weird spiky hairstyle, except it's longer now, but you get the idea."

kamo nodded, his front leaning forward to get a good look at your phone.

"he's angry," he commented idly.

"er... yeah," you confirmed, hesitant. you slowly swiped to the next photo — yaga's realisation of the image being taken. "that's 'cause i took his photo in the middle of the hallway, so..." you shook your head quickly. "but anyway! i met him during our first middle school p.e class. we were playing dodgeball and i was standing at the back to support yuji, even though we'd just met through megumi, but if megumi liked him, then i knew he was good. and then yaga just got mad at me."

kamo watched as you showed him another picture of an angry coach yaga.

"and it was a whole thing," you settled on saying at last. "rest of our time during middle school went by with a theme of pissing yaga off. it's tradition now."

kamo raised a brow, the corner of his lips tugging upwards in mild amusement as he listened.

"sounds like you've had a pretty clear mission since day one," he said, his tone dry but his gaze alight with curiosity. he tilted his head slightly as he regarded the photo on your screen, his hand brushing back a loose strand of hair as he continued. "coach only ever turns red when you're around."

there was no judgment in his voice, just a quiet humour that seemed to match the slight, crooked smile now playing on his face.

without a word, kamo shifted subtly closer to you, leaning in as though to get a better look at the next photo. his arm rested lightly on the bench beside you, and while the movement was casual, the reduced space between you both went unnoticed — or perhaps, just unacknowledged.

you didn't seem to mind at all, and the easy flow of your conversation remained uninterrupted. if anything, the proximity only added to the comfortable rhythm of your storytelling:

"there's actually a legacy," you grinned, swiping several times to get to a particular image. "you know s— mr gojo, miss ieiri, mr nanami, and mr haibara were yaga's students back when they were in school?"

kamo didn't say anything at that. some part of you couldn't blame him, especially when you would constantly spew out nonsense that megumi would immediately shut down in front of everyone.

if you weren't you, you probably wouldn't have believed yourself either.

"at least try to look like you believe me," you scowled.

"no, i do," kamo insisted, though not very convincingly.

"no you don't."

"yeah i don't."

"okay, well, now you will," you stated, showing him the photo you'd been searching for in your packed camera roll.

it was yaga's wedding in january of two-thousand-and-six. you had chosen this particular photo because of the scene in the background: the men you knew dressed sharply in suits and ties, and the women you knew also elegantly adorned in dresses and heels.

"he's married?" kamo asked, looking genuinely surprised. it was the only time you had seen any form of emotion cross his face.

"was married," you corrected him, and then laughed as you zoomed in on his face. "got divorced years ago — look, he's bald!"

as you and kamo continued discussing yaga's wedding, the conversation spiralled into unexpected detail. you pointed out the floral arrangements in the background, commenting on how they looked oddly mismatched with the formal attire of the guests. kamo had raised an eyebrow, countering that maybe yaga had bad taste in decorators. from there, the discussion veered into an animated debate over who had possibly caught the bouquet, with you insisting it was nanami and kamo scoffing at the idea of him even participating.

but just as kamo parted his lips to counter your next argument, yaga's unmistakable voice had cut through the air.

"LOVEBIRDS!" he'd roared, the two of you looking up simultaneously towards the field where yaga stood, hands on his hips, thoroughly exasperated. "FOCUS ON THE GAME, OR LEAVE!"

you pocketed your phone again, glaring at yaga like he'd personally offended you on a cosmic level.

"he's just salty we have luscious hair," you muttered under your breath bitterly. the fact that the entire field had fallen silent didn't deter you from adding more in the slightest. "got a lot of nerve for someone with a wedding album collecting dust..."

unbeknownst to you, chad smirked knowingly, glancing towards kamo with an exaggeratedly teasing expression, waggling his eyebrows as if he'd just uncovered the secret of the universe. kamo, predictably, ignored him entirely, his focus unshaken.

meanwhile, megumi's reaction had been far sharper.

his eyes darted between you and kamo before settling firmly on you, his brow furrowing so deeply it looked like he was judging you for a crime against humanity. his glare lingered, sharp and unyielding, like you'd just desecrated something sacred — which, knowing megumi, might've been the concept of behaving during practice.

"just get him back on the field," he stated firmly, shooting coach yaga a glare.

"kid's right," said yaga, before blowing his whistle again. "KAMO, PARKER — BOTH OF YOU — BACK ON THE FIELD!"

obediently, kamo rose to his feet, brushing off his knees before bending down and retrieving his discarded helmet, and then giving a short, wordless nod to logan parker, who had been waiting nearby.

from the sidelines, yaga's gaze immediately zeroed in on you.

"AND YOU!" he barked, pointing a commanding finger. "stop distracting my players! you've got five seconds to zip it, or you're out of here!" his voice had carried across the field with the same force as his whistle.

you frowned deeply. his reaction felt like an overreaction to you — typical yaga behavior.

but then, the realisation hit you like a sudden spotlight. you glanced at your watch and felt a jolt of panic. you were supposed to stay for only a bit before heading to rehearsal.

"ah, shit! i'm late for rehearsal!" you panicked, hurriedly grabbing your bag and scrambling to leave. the theatre director was definitely not going to forgive you for being late again, especially with the lead role hanging in the balance.

as you ran across the benches, you looked over your shoulder, ignoring the crowd and team laughing at you.

"lady yaga, this is all your fault by the way!"

as you darted towards the building, the teasing chants from the football team had started fading behind you. despite the growing distance between you and them, you could hear yaga cursing you from where he stood, as though he were right next to you.

you were not, however, aware of the two pairs of eyes watching you retreat, one of them mildly amused, the other beyond annoyed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

the cracked pavement beneath satoru's feet echoed faintly as he strolled through the unfamiliar neighbourhood.

during a conversation about toji's dark past, he had showed off to the family about never having stolen anything, as well as never being stolen from, which only resulted in ogi demanding that he walk in a sketchier neighbourhood and see if he could come back saying the same thing.

and he had been confident, of course, as he looked around at the graffiti-covered walls and flickering streetlights, which might have seemed intimidating to anyone else, but he remained blissfully unfazed, humming a tune under his breath.

in one hand, he'd held a slightly squished cupcake, the frosting a little smeared but no less delightful to him. his sunglasses perched jauntily on his nose, and his long strides carried him through the shadows as though the neighbourhood itself were lucky to have him gracing its streets.

...

that had been before he'd found himself trapped in a phone-box, the gang that had caused his sealing surrounding the box in awe.

'we seriously stole the gojo guy's money?'

'aw heck yeah! he's filthy rich, too!'

'look at that sleek, black card!'

'awesome! his phone's the new model as well!'

satoru stared at the gang leader, scowling.

his balaclava had fallen when satoru had thrown a punch at him earlier, exposing his tattooed face, the dark line that crossed his nose and the thin arrowed lines that went down his eyes.

satoru thought he looked silly with those pigtails.

"how much are those glasses?" the leader had asked, throwing his balaclava over his shoulder for one of his minions to scramble for.

satoru, his neck bent in an attempt to not bump his head, flashed him a grin.

"more than you can afford."

the guy gritted his teeth at him. satoru felt satisfaction bloom in his chest at that, but he noted how the tattooed male could be no older than seventeen or eighteen. what the hell was he doing as a leader of a gang?

"but you should probably open the door to try and get them," satoru suggested, bending down a little to meet the kid's face.

"i'm not stupid," the kid scowled. he was bagging all of satoru's expensive belongings right in front of him.

"if you were smart, you wouldn't style your hair like a five year old girl."

"if you were smart, you would dye your hair."

satoru scowled at him. "if you continued your education, you wouldn't need to join a gang for money."

the kid didn't look too pleased with satoru's rapid riposte, for he looked around at his minions, slinging the bag of satoru's possessions over his shoulder, and turning away with a raised brow.

"come and get your stuff," he had challenged the trapped, white-haired male, who could only watch in anger as one of the minions marvelled at his stolen cupcake.

his cupcake.

satoru let out an exaggerated groan, his head lightly thudding against the very top of the glass wall of the phone box as he tilted his chin to the ceiling (that happened to be so very close to his face).

this was beyond annoying; his cupcake was gone, his wallet and phone stolen, and now he was cramped into this tiny, outdated relic of communication...

but then, a flicker of excitement sparked across his face, the edges of his mouth curling upwards.

out of all the traps he could've been stuck in, it had to be a phone box. how retro. how tragically iconic.

with a sigh, he tapped the dusty dial pad, punching in one of the numbers he knew by heart: shoko's.

the faint hum of the dial tone filled the tiny space as he leaned back, arms crossed, waiting with a fading grin to hear her undoubtedly sarcastic greeting.

but it had been taking a while.

"this is such a pain," he grumbled to himself, annoyed.

and then looked up excitedly when her voice sounded through the speaker.

"hello?"

"shoko, i'm trapped in a phone box 'cause some poor kid with his gang jumped me," he explained hurriedly. it wasn't a completely accurate retelling of the story, but it got the main gist of it, and he was punched for time. "i need your help!"

there was a pause. was she seriously contemplating helping him?

"..."

"shoko?"

"hm," she hummed, her voice nasally. it usually got like that when she was working. "have you returned my lighter?"

satoru furrowed his brows. he had never promised to give that back, not when he hated it when she smoked.

"no —"

BEEEEEEP...

she had hung up.

satoru angrily punched in the numbers of another friend, one who had to be more sensible than her.

"hope she has an asthma attack," he cursed quietly, as he expectantly waited for nanami to pick up the phone.

"kento nanami, who's calling?"

as formal as ever; satoru expected no less. had he been in a better predicament, he would have made a joke about it.

"nanami!" he cheered, and then hurriedly got to the point. perhaps he ought to go a different route, if only to avoid the same outcome with smoke-addict-shoko. "remember when i helped you pay for yuu's birthday expenses?"

he heard him let out a breathy sigh from the other end of the call.

"what's this about, gojo?" he asked, sounding exhausted.

satoru explained his situation as best as he could. he had high hopes for this call — nanami was always the serious, sensible one. there was no way he'd turn him down now.

"you're stuck in a phone box with no way out?" he repeated, though even nanami wouldn't be able to fake amusement even if he tried. satoru felt his stomach drop. "what a shame."

BEEEEEEP...

and he was left with that same ringing beep...

no, the next one would work. he was certain of it.

the kfc disagreement might have occurred a year or two ago, but it was all right. satoru knew that.

they were best friends, after all.

he hurriedly pressed suguru's phone number into the dial and waited.

and waited.

and waited...

...and waited...

and then gave up.

i would've picked up his call, he thought to himself bitterly, before dialling the fushiguros' telephone.

he prayed to god that megumi would answer, and not —

"erm... hello!"

you.

he found you funny, a great kid, one to match the zenins' wit in every way. but you could be so very... chatty.

especially when he didn't have the time.

"y/n, i'm trapped in a phone box 'cause of some sketchy kids in a gang," he explained, though something in his gut knew that this was futile, "where's megumi's mom? where's your mom? in the event that she'd even care —"

"my mom is —"

but you had paused, for megumi's voice had entered the line, but distant:

"i know you stole my book, y/n. give it back."

"i didn't — ugh! satoru, i can't talk to you right now 'cause i'm in the middle of making fun of megumi 'cause he said i stole his boring, non-fiction book when i didn't —"

"— yeah i don't give a shit, where's your mom?" he interrupted, because there was only so much he could take.

your gasp on the other end of the line was telling.

and it came as no surprise to him when you hung up as revenge:

"oh you— okay! bye!"

"wait, y/n —"

BEEEEEEP...

"oh for fucks —" he began, but kept his cool as he pictured his wife. his wife who, surely, would help him. she was his only hope at this point, because if not her, then it had to be ogi.

if not her, then it had to be toji.

he shivered at the thought.

he waited for her to pick up.

"hello? who is this?"

he had no time to waste.

there was a long pause after satoru's rushed explanation, the muffled static on the other end of the line filling the silence. he leaned forwards slightly, gripping the receiver, his hope wavering as the seconds stretched on. surely, his wife was gearing up for some clever solution, for she was smart, he remembered that well during high school and college — or at least, that's what he convinced himself of.

then came the sound of her laughter.

it started low, building into something unrestrained and far too amused for his liking.

and before he could say or do anything else, she ended the call with a click, hanging up the phone herself. satoru stood there, staring at the receiver in disbelief, the faint beep of the disconnected line mocking him.

BEEEEEEP...

reluctantly, he had called both ogi and toji next, and each regret stung more than the last. ogi sounded all too pleased by the event, and had hung up to, no doubt, inform everyone he knew of 'the gojo heir' being a victim of mugging.

toji's brutal honesty hit harder.

his voice had been laced with smug amusement, delivering one dismissive insult after another before abruptly cutting the call. by the time the phone clicked silent again, satoru felt something he rarely experienced — genuine, soul-deep irritation.

with a frustrated growl, satoru clenched his fist and swung it towards the glass, the impact reverberating through the phone box.

a sharp crack echoed as small fractures spread across the surface, and a few shards broke loose, tumbling to the ground.

he flexed his fingers, inspecting the streaks of red beginning to stain his knuckles. the sight annoyed him more than the pain — bleeding wasn't part of the plan. still, the partial break in the glass was hopeful, and he prepared himself for another attempt.

as he paused to assess his next move, his gaze caught on a young blonde-haired girl walking along the street nearby. she couldn't have been older than you or megumi, about ten, her small figure striking against the gritty surroundings.

desperation took over as he called out to her, motioning with his uninjured hand. the girl stopped and turned towards him, but her wide, wary eyes said it all — she clearly thought he was some sort of lunatic. satoru would have tried to understand his viewpoint if he wasn't so irritated with his situation.

she hesitated, clutching her backpack tighter, and stared at him as though deciding whether to run or stay.

"you're a pedo!" she'd decided altogether, which only got satoru to clench his jaw at her.

his neck was starting to hurt with how the height of the phone box had bent him at its will.

"i'm not a pedo, and if i was, you'd be safe, you blonde, bob-headed, little shit."

she furrowed her brows at him, but she'd taken several steps closer, which told him that there was a certain level of trust there between them.

"i'm trapped," he explained, for the eighth time. he looked around and saw a discarded hammer on the dusty floor. "get that hammer and pass it to me through the hole i made."

"my mom told me not to speak to strangers," said the child, her white dress notable in comparison to all the dust and dirt surrounding them.

"your mom also left you unattended in this sketchy neighbourhood," said satoru, brows raised. "you think her opinion matters? help me out."

the child still seemed reluctant. satoru groaned loudly.

"i'll buy you a cupcake."

she ran over to the hammer and presented it to him. satoru encouraged her to push it through the hole, but the way she was looking at it made him pause.

and he was right to do so, for she unexpectedly held it over her head, and then slammed it into the glass window, his hands immediately going over his head to prevent the glass from cutting into his face and sensitive areas.

"sick," he marvelled, as she continued to smash up the glass.

and after a little more smashing, she had finally had her fun and handed the hammer over to satoru through a much wider hole.

he took it gratefully, looking down at her through his round glasses with his head tilted.

"might wanna step back, kid," he warned her, before releasing all his pent-up anger on the phone box, enough to smash its front in a way that made it unrecognisable.

he stepped out, throwing the hammer away, leaving it discarded somewhere forgettable behind him.

"i'm getting my stuff back."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the gang gathered around satoru's possessions with wide eyes, each of them marvelling at the loot they'd just stolen. the leader, with a smug grin on his face, rifled through his wallet, fascinated by the sleek, black card inside.

"this guy's loaded," he muttered to himself, feeling more than a little victorious, for there had been four different sleek cards, and he was certain if they chose to rob his house next, they'd find more.

his fingers hovered over satoru's phone, still in pristine condition despite the earlier struggle.

the rest of the gang members, too, admired the items with greedy satisfaction.

but their smugness was short-lived.

in a blur, everything around them seemed to freeze for a moment, only to snap back into chaos. one second, they were standing in the middle of the street, basking in their victory, and the next — a flash of white filled their vision.

it was as if the world had shifted, disorienting them completely. the last thing they saw was satoru's towering presence, the white of his hair and his eyes like blinding light.

then, with only one warning from one of the members ("guys, he's coming! he's coming!"), they found themselves in a dark alley, each of them battered and exhausted, sprawled out on the ground.

the gang leader himself could taste blood in his mouth, his head swimming as he tried to piece together what had just happened in the space of five minutes. his body screamed in pain, the bruises already beginning to form, and his mind struggled to understand the impossible speed of the attack.

they hadn't stood a chance.

satoru stood over him now, his foot casually pressing down on the younger man's face, pinning him to the ground with alarming ease. his grin was feral, manic — a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

his possessions, now securely back in his grasp, were scattered around him, including the cupcake, which he held up to his lips, barely noticing the bloodstained mess of the street around him. his body was tense, like a coiled spring, filled with untamed energy as he looked down at the leader with barely-contained excitement...

there was something unnerving about the way he was smiling — something wild and unhinged, as if the fight, the chase, and the thrill had unlocked something primal within him. he was terrifying, but utterly in control of himself, and the chaos surrounding him.

"heh," he laughed to himself, throwing the bag over his shoulder. "i get why toji used to do this all the time. look at your faces!"

he eyed them all, noticing one thing they all had in common. he laughed loudly.

they were all japanese.

"what is this, the yakuza?" he joked, taking a bite out of his cupcake.

he deserved more sweet treats, he decided. perhaps he would go downtown to treat himself again.

his eyes had landed on the very criminal that had taken his cupcake intentionally. he walked away from the gang leader and bent down to present it to him again.

"want a bite?" he teased.

when he didn't respond, satoru stood up straight again.

"what, you scared?"

but despite asking the question, he didn't wait for a response. instead, he turned around, spotting the little, blonde girl that had helped him out, and walked off without looking back.

"go back to school," he advised them. "you guys are shit criminals."

satoru strolled over to the little blonde girl, who looked up at him expectantly, her bright eyes wide and curious. her expression was a mix of confusion and caution, as though she wasn't quite sure what to make of the strange man who had just singlehandedly obliterated a gang.

satoru, unfazed, reached into his wallet with a casual flick of his wrist, extracting a five-dollar bill. he held it out to her with a grin, his earlier manic energy fading into something far more playful.

"here, kid. get yourself something nice," he said with a wink.

"my name's hana," she told him, taking the bill. "hana kurusu."

he raised his brows at her.

"good to know," he'd said, and without waiting for a reply, turned on his heel, the faintest chuckle escaping his lips as he walked away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: turns out my law exam i told you about went super well (got an A, woohoo!) and i was being dramatic lmao. so half this chapter was scenes i knew you’d be happy with, the other half was a lot of kamo, which i knew a lot of you hate me for, but it had to be done ‘cause i was right about the shit sociology test :/ lmao anyway, this was basically just some filler hahaa (with semi-plot!) 😼

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @momoewn @polarbvnny @lailuv21 @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @laughingfcx @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy @jamypam @thelost-child @anotherwriternamedclara @ist0leurc0ffee @spookypeacesandwich @jvpit3rr

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Oh Baby — Quinn Hughes

Summary: In which you go into labor in another state unsure if your husband will be there to meet your daughter with you

Content Warnings; Labor, Cussing, Needles

Pairing; Husband! Quinn Hughes x Fem Reader

“I’m gonna kill him! Jack, I swear to god I’m gonna kill your brother!” Jack rubbed your back reassuringly, “I know honey. But you can wait to kill him until after my perfect niece is here, right?” You gripped the sleeve of your brother in law’s t-shirt, “If you don’t stop talking Jack, I’ll you first!” A plethora of pain coursed through your body as another contraction ripped through you. Jack gritted his teeth as you clawed his hand.

Jack had always been the one of your two brothers in law that you were closer to, majority of that being the closeness in your ages comparatively to you and Luke. You were 3 years older than Jack and 5 years older than Luke. So you and Jack were closer friends. So when your water broke as you were meeting a realtor for a potential new location for your chain of restaurants, you called Jack knowing he was less than 3 hours away in Washington while Quinn was on his way back from Boston. You had checked into the hospital and gotten situated by the time Jack got to the hospital.

He rushed in holding your hospital bag for the baby, a bag for yourself and another bag of stuff for Quinn. He had called Quinn and reassured his older brother that you were okay, although Quinn could hear you cussing at your ob as she gave you an epidural block. Quinn assured his younger brother that he would be back in time to meet his daughter with you. As time progressed you began to lose hope.

You were in hysterics as you were finally pushing, “Jack I’m scared. What if I’m not cut out to be a mom? I mean I’m only 25 and we just got married. I’m scared that me and Quinn won’t work out.” Jack held your hand somehow tighter, “You are the most amazing person I know, you always know what to say Y/N, you are going to be a perfect mom. And you and Quinn are like a damn rom-com movie. You will be okay, the minute you see your baby girl you will know.” You sobbed as you forced another push, “Thank you.”

The door opened and Quinn rushed in, “I’m here! I may have a ticket but I’m here.” You looked up at your husband, “You made it.” Quinn pressed a soft kiss against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Your OBGYN smiled, “Hey Mr Hughes, you made it just in time. Give me one more push and you’ll have your perfect girl.” You clutched Quinn’s hand, unaware of Jack who had taken out a digital camcorder and had started to record you and Quinn’s faces as you let out a groan and clutched Quinn’s hand as you pushed.

You collapsed back when you heard it, your newborn daughter’s cries. You felt your heart clench as the OBGYN spoke, “So dad, do you wanna do the honors?” Quinn’s eyes welled with happy tears as he nodded, “Your damn right I do.” Quinn took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord. With the doctors okay, Quinn held your daughter oh so carefully and placed her on your chest. You reached your finger out and your heart shattered and somehow felt more filled as your daughter’s tiny hand wrapped around your finger, “She’s perfect. Look at her Quinn. That’s all us.”

Quinn melted into you, “She might be the girl I love most in the world now.” Jack smiled with teary eyes, “So what’s my new best friends name?” You smiled at your daughter, “Lorelei Jacqueline Hughes. After my mom and my girls alleged best uncle.” Jack grinned at his newborn niece, “Rory Jackie Hughes. You are so perfect, and you lucked out in the parent department. You have the best mommy ever. Your daddy is alright.”

You smiled weakly at your husband, “I have never loved two people this much. This is the best and most fulfilling experience of my life. I love you Quinn Hughes, with all I am.” Quinn kissed you softly, “I love you too Y/N Hughes, will everything in my heart.”

[redbleedingrose]

Girl Dad!Cassian x reader Headcanons

A/N: I love me some girl dad Bat boys and Vanserra bros. TBH all the ACOTAR males would make incredible girl dads and I was just thinking about Cassian today. Anyway, this is for @augustinerose I know that it has been tough recently, so I hope this made you smile. <3

Cassian is a girls girl. He LOVES his daughter, and wants his babe to be able to express herself in any way she wants. So he def lets his daughter paint his nails pink and purple, and grins so wide when she smacks a kiss onto his cheek calling him pretty. And he takes real good care to paint her nails all nice and clean.

Cass is also happy to let his pretty princess put some makeup on him, with the blue eyeshadow and red lips. Male is not even the slightest bit embarrassed when you walk into your home to find him sitting on the floor so that your daughter can reach his face, six bows of all colors in his hair that is half braided and half curled, with your reddest shade of lipstick being smeared all over him. The guilty look from your babe stealing your makeup is too cute, and you settle down into Cass’ lap and ask her to do your hair and makeup too.

He would die for this child, and do practically anything to see a smile on her face, so he is gonna wear the purple tutu and tiara for his girl, and he is absolutely gonna have his pinky pointing out while he sips water from a tiny princess tea cup cuz his baby girl scolded him for not using "proper etticuite daddy."

Occasionally, she can also rope in Az and Rhys and they might roll their eyes and moan and groan, but they are gonna do anything for that little girl because they adore her and she is the only baby girl in the family so far. They spoil her like no other. You had to practically ban Rhys from getting her anymore dresses because there was no more storage in your home, and you nearly threw him into the Sidra when he offered to add another room to your home so he could fill it up with more jewelry and shoes and tutus for the “night court princess”

And on starfall, she does little dance routines for the whole family but she willet all shy about dancing her little ballerina routine in front everyone in the inner circle, so he helps her out and dances by her side even getting on his tippy toes despite everyone is snickering at him, this big burly male twirling around with his muscled arms pointed to the sky with his "mini me"

He loves pretending to chomp and eat her ruddy cheeks because it makes her cackle from deep in her tummy, and he is always blowing raspberries into her chubby belly. Don’t even get me started on those chunky thighs, and stinky feet. Cass wants to cry every single time he thinks about his pretty princess growing up. He wants her to stay young forever, to never worry about a single thing, to make sure that he can always watch over her and protect her.

When she was a newborn, he would steal her from the bassinet and take her on flights, wrapping her tiny wings into a wooly blanket to make sure they stay warm and cozy, and he would spend hours just flying around and telling her stories about his life, and stories about you. His favorite topic to talk about to her while she snoozes away is how much he loves you and how much he loves her. His obsession with his girls is truly a next level of adoration.

Ugh AND he loves cutting up fruit for her, and she just walks around munching on it with her tiny fist around the fruit and juices smeared across her cheeks. An he is always so gentle about wiping away the juices with a wet rag, having her sitting on the counter with her tiny legs swinging back and forth kicking his corded thighs while he cleans her ups and smooches her ruddy cheeks when he is done

Let us also discuss how Cassian learned how to braid hair by the Valkaryie warriors, and so he is the expert when it comes to doing her hair. Male can do twists and plaits so fast and instinctually, its insane. Most days, you have him doing your own hair. Oh, and she was born with a TUFT of hair that he would play with to soothe her. It is thick and dark just like his, and curls at the end, and he thinks it is one of his favorite features that he passed on to her.

OOOHHHH and imagine him teaching her to fly when she finally has the strength to control those muscles. She is all frustrated with fat tears rolling down her ruddy cheeks cuz “is too hard daddy” and he is down on one knee in front of her, rubbing his large hands over her tiny shoulders hushing her little cries, “s’okay baby, you’re right, it is hard,” and he smooches her cheek and pulls back to stare into her big eyes, “but you know what sweet girl? You can do it. It might take some time and practice, like most things do, but you will do it. And I will be here every step of the way, ‘kay?” And she sniffles, rubbing her tears away with a tiny fist and snuggles into his big chest while nodding.

Every birthday, he buys her a bouquet of flowers. And he also buys you a bouquet of flowers, making sure to thank you for the best gift he has ever received.

Okay maybe I will add more to this later, but this all I got for now, I hope you enjoyed!!!

[archangeldyke-all]

How would Sevika react to her baby being born? Like listening to reader scream curse words at her as she pushes and Sevikas smiling cause she’s never heard her sweet wife say such words.

Then when the baby is finally born they look just like Sevika and she can’t help but stare in amazement and love. Kissing reader all over her face and saying words of affirmation

HAHAHAHHA

men and minors dni

she's never been more in love with you than she is in this exact moment, with you sweating through a paper hospital gown, screaming bloody murder, and clawing through the skin on her hand as you push your daughter out into the world.

sure, she just witnessed you shit yourself and you look like you're mid-exorcism. sure, she nearly passed out when she took a peek between your legs and saw your cunt stretched and bleeding. but you're the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

"what the fuck are you smiling at you smug motherfucker?!" you snarl as another contraction wracks your body. she grins, ducking down to kiss your sweating temple, and if you had any more strength in you you'd smack the smile right off her face.

"you're amazing." she says with wonder, a sparkle in her eye. "you're the sexiest, strongest, most powerful woman i've ever met. i'm so in love with you." she says adoringly.

"you're never, ever touching me again, you piece of shit!" you growl. sevika just laughs and nods.

"whatever you want, baby." she says, still smiling.

"i fucking hate you!" you scream as you push through your contraction.

"i love you more than i've ever loved anything." she replies.

"i can't believe you did this to me!"

before she can reply with an annoyingly soothing response, the doctor gasps from between your legs. "ten centimeters!"

you whine, tears racing down your cheeks at the horrible searing tearing feeling between your legs.

"it's time to push, baby." she whispers soothingly.

"stop fucking talking to me!" you growl. sevika laughs, kissing you again, then she crawls into the hospital bed behind you to hold you from behind, both of your hands in hers, her legs enveloping your torso, your back against her chest, just like you practiced in your classes.

"i'm gonna marry you once this is all over." she says in your ear as you catch your breath from your last contraction. you barely get thirty seconds between the waves of pain, but you manage to bark out a laugh at this.

"we're already married." you say. sevika continues to kiss your head and neck.

"so we'll renew our vows." she says. "and our baby can be there. she'll be the officiant." she says. you laugh again, and it quickly turns into a moan of pain.

"i'm divorcing you for this." you cry out. sevika laughs and kisses your head.

"i'll win you back." she says. you elbow her as you sit forward for your next push, getting a little satisfaction at the little grunt of pain she lets out.

"i can see the head!" the doctor says. you scream and sevika gasps, and then--

the sweetest, tiniest little cries you've ever heard start up between your legs. you gasp, and sevika gasps, and the doctor rises from between your legs with a slimy, blood covered, wrinkly lump of flesh flailing in her arms.

"a beautiful, healthy baby girl." she says, grinning as she walks the baby over to the head of the bed for you to gawk at.

at the sight of her scrunched up sobbing face, all the pain in your body seemingly disappears. an entirely new type of tears well up in your eyes, and you almost tackle the doctor when she turns away with the baby in her arms. it's only sevika's hold on you that keeps you in place, her voice in your ear gently reminding you that they gotta clean the baby first.

"you wanna cut the cord, mama?" the doctor asks, looking over her shoulder at sevika a she and the nurses quickly wipe up your crying baby. sevika chokes on a sob from behind you and nods, pressing a solid kiss against your head before scrambling out of bed to stand beside the group of medical professionals, shakily snipping the umbilical cord, officially separating your baby from your body.

when she's all clean sevika holds cradles your daughter into her arms, gasping down at her crying little face as you deliver the placenta and the doctors clean you up.

nothing hurts anymore. they quickly hook you up to a steady stream of morphine, and the hormones flooding your body make time all floaty and make you all spacey.

one minute, there's a gaggle of nurses surrounding you, the next, it's just sevika, standing beside your hospital bed, cooing down at your daughter.

she gently makes her way back in bed with you, placing your little girl in your arms, hooking her chin over your shoulder as you both grin down at your crying little girl.

"holy shit." you whisper. sevika giggles from behind you.

"she's gorgeous."

"she looks like a raisin." you whisper. sevika bursts into laughter, pressing endless kisses to your face.

you burst into tears, and sevika coos behind you, squeezing you to her chest.

"she's so perfect." you cry. "it's our baby sev. our daughter." you cry.

your baby girl's calmed down now, seemingly recognizing your voice, her little eyes blinking up into space. you know she can't see yet, but it seems like she's looking right up at her moms.

"oh fuck." you cry. "she looks just like you." you say through tears. sevika's sniffling behind you, seeming to realize the same thing.

she does look just like sevika. even though she's only a few minutes old, and her face is so itty bitty-- she's got sevika's eyes. and sevika's nose. and sevika's lips. and two or three wisps of sevika's ebony hair decorate her head.

"shit, this is no fair. i'm the one who carried her for nine months and she comes out lookin' like your clone!" you cry. sevika chuckles behind you, reaching down to gently press one of her fingers against your baby's palm.

"just means she's gonna have your personality, babe." she says. "another sweetheart."

you giggle, leaning back against your wife.

both of you laugh as your daughter grunts and smacks her free hand against sevika's wrist.

"no way, she's all you. she came out swinging and everything." you say through laughs.

sevika snorts and kisses your head.

"i love you so much." she whispers. you sigh, turning your neck to press your lips against hers.

"i love you too." you say.

"you're not gonna divorce me?" she asks, laughing against your lips. you smile.

"no, i guess not. she's worth all the pain." you say, looking back down at your daughter. sevika smiles against your head.

"welcome to the world, little fucker." sevika whispers.

in your arms, your daughter coos.

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[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 19

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, crying, discussions of therapy, sadness, reference to divorce, references to labour and delivery (not explicit but detailed), references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital, self-doubt and self-loathing

A/N: Surprise! I somehow got this chapter done in just a week, and it just so happens to be the last one! If the winds are with me, the epilogue should be out next Friday. But I just want to take a second and thank everyone who is read, commented, reblogged, liked. It means everything to me to get to play in this sandbox, and I really appreciate all the love!

Sharp Memorial Hospital, almost 12 years ago

“One more big push, honey. One more and then you can have a little rest!” The OBGYN urged.

“I can’t! I can’t do this!” Buttercup sobbed, head falling forward as she panted. She felt like she’d been at this for days. She hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. Everything hurt. She missed her bed. She missed the little home she lived in with Jake. She missed not being in pain.

“Shhh, Buttercup. It’s okay.” Jake soothed from his seat on a little stool right by her head.

One gesture from him and the room silenced. He’d been her rock through this whole ordeal, never once leaving her side, never complaining about not getting any sleep or how hard the couch was. He rubbed her feet and her back, fed her ice chips, snuck her a little snack because frankly the hospital’s No Eating While in Labour rule was fucking barbaric. He wasn’t about to make his wife starve herself for over a day on the off chance that she would need surgery. Without letting go of her hand, he stood and propped himself on the bed in front of her. She had opted to push on her hands and knees. Perhaps not the most dignified position, but it was the one she felt most comfortable in. Or at least, the position she had felt the most comfortable in. Honestly, she hadn’t known comfort in over 12 hours.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed quietly, squeezing his hand as another contraction rocked her body. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” It wasn’t Jake’s Texan drawl that comforted her now. It was Hangman’s no-nonsense voice that cut through the sleep deprivation and pain. “I know you’re scared, darlin’. I know you’re hurting. I know you want this to be over. You’ve been a fucking rockstar all fucking day and you deserve a break. Now, I’m going to come sit in front of you on the bed, okay?” Jake peeked around at the doctor to make sure it was alright before moving the pillows and sitting against the headboard. “You’re going to put your hands on my shoulders and you’re gonna squeeze so damn tight that you’re going to receive a citation for damaging military property. But you’re going to give us one more big push. Our babies need you right now. Okay?”

Buttercup couldn’t help but nod. Not when she was looking into the beautiful green eyes of the man she loved. She could do this. She could be brave and face the pain, the fear. For him. For their two beautiful babies.

Her next contraction came and went in a flurry of activity. She couldn’t remember the pain or the fear. But she could remember the nurse handing her a squirming baby girl before handing Jake the scissors and letting him cut the cord.

“Baby number 2 is on the way, but you should have a few minutes to cuddle with baby number one before you need to get back to work, mama,” Dr. Friedman smiled at the family of 3 while swapping out her gloves.

“She’s beautiful, darlin’.” Jake pressed a kiss to Buttercup’s sweat-slick forehead. “You still like her name?”

Buttercup nodded, panting heavily as she leaned against him, cradling their daughter between their bodies. “Abigail Juliet Seresin. Want to hold her?”

Jake took the tiny girl in his arms and felt something inside of himself melt. The most perfect little being in the world, and she was half him, half Buttercup. “Hey Abby,” he murmured, hearing a monitor start to beep more rapidly. “I’m your daddy. The total badass that was just holding you is your mama. And your sibling is on their way, I think, so I’m going to pass you off to this lovely nurse to hold you so I can help your mama.”

With one more big push, another flurry of activity, and a sigh of relief, their second daughter entered the world. Jake scooped Buttercup into his arms to help her settle into a more comfortable position before the nurse handed her the second squalling baby. Abby was wrapped in a light pink blanket and deposited in her father’s arms.

“Charlotte…” Buttercup murmured, limbs shaking with exhaustion. “Charlotte Delta Seresin.”

Jake couldn’t help the tear that came to his eye. “They’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

Neither were aware of what the nurses were doing around them, and they didn’t really care. Both were enamoured with their daughters. Their family.

Staring at his three girls, Jake made a vow. A vow that would supersede any he made to the military. He would do whatever it takes to be there for his family. To protect them. He would never, ever stop fighting for them.

London, England, Now

Everything had been packed into her duffle bag. Childcare had been arranged. There had even been a convenient black cab sitting outside of her house. And then…he was there.

“Jake?”

The man in question stood at her front gate, a bouquet of pink roses in one hand and a gym bag in the other. The black cab idling behind him trundled down the street as they stared at each other.

He looked as tired as she felt, and she felt the heavy press of guilt weigh down on her shoulders. She had done that to him. She had left him behind, left Charlie behind, and he had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

One hand lingering on her front gate, he offered a tentative smile. “Hey Buttercup.”

“What…” She swallowed back the emotions suddenly clogging her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, it took about ten seconds for me to realize that I didn’t want you to go. I would’ve been here earlier, but organizing childcare, last-minute flights, someone to take over ranch business…” He sighed and shrugged. “It took a bit to get everything settled. But I’m here now because I realized something.” He reached over and opened the latch to her gate, swinging it open to let himself in. In two strides, he was standing at the foot of her stairs.

“What did you realize?” she murmured.

He handed her the flowers, his hand lingering to give hers a tight squeeze. “I realized that I listened to you give all sorts of reasons for why you couldn’t stay, and I gave you reasons why you could. But I never gave you the reasons why I want you to stay.”

She pulled the flowers up to her nose to give herself a moment to compose herself. Never in a million years did she think that he would follow her. Not when she was the one who left. But there he was, standing on her front stoop in London, giving her flowers and wanting to talk to her.

She sniffled. “Let’s go inside.”

Jake nodded gratefully and stepped up to stand at her back as she fumbled with unlocking the door again. “Is Abby home? I’d love to see her but this conversation…I don’t think it can wait.”

She turned her head back to look at him, so handsome in his red flannel and blue jeans. “She’s at a friend’s house. Bob dropped her off before going to work. Where’s Charlie?” Her heart ached, remembering how Charlie had refused to even meet her gaze as they had packed into the airport taxi.

“With Nat and Javy.”

She nodded and let him into the house, dropping her duffle onto the floor and guiding him into the living room. “I’m just going to get some water for these,” she murmured. “Do you want something to drink?”

Jake shook his head, staring around the room as she disappeared into the kitchen. Being in her space felt natural. Almost like he had been there before. The dark teal walls set off the walnut furniture, and he recognized a few of the paintings hanging from the walls, prints that she had mentioned over a decade ago that she loved. Photos of her family lined the mantlepiece. Most were of Buttercup and Abby, but there were some photos of Bob and Natasha as well. The whole space felt homey, lived in, in a way that he hadn’t expected. He could see why she had wanted to come back. This was a home she had built for herself. He’d be hesitant to give it up too, if he had been in her shoes.

A light clearing of the throat turned his attention back to Buttercup, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Do you want to sit?” She gestured to the soft suede couch, and he took a seat on one end, green eyes following her as she settled into an armchair next to him, a small side table in between them. The silence stretched between them as Buttercup picked her fingernails, staring down at her hands. Jake could only watch her, all the words he wanted to say building up in his chest.

“I’m sorry—”

“I wanted to tell you—”

Their words mixed together in a jumble until they stopped and grinned at each other, embarrassment painting their features.

“Do…do you want to go first?” Jake offered, noting the almost desperate look in her eyes.

She nodded; eyes fixed on her fingernails. “I’m sorry. I never…I mean, it wasn’t supposed to. Jake, what I’m trying to say is…” She nearly growled in frustration. “I was going to type up everything I wanted to say to you on the flight and memorize it so that this wouldn’t happen.”

“Flight? You were coming to see me?” He could feel the hope blossoming in his chest, and he fought to push it down, smother it so as to not scare her off.

“I…” she blushed. “Yeah. I wanted to talk to you. How I left…it wasn’t fair. To you or Charlie or Abby. I wanted to clear the air…maybe, try to fix things. If you wanted to.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I want to.”

Her responding smile was a weak, nervous thing, and he reached out his hand to grasp hers. “I’m sorry, too.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he squeezed her hand, silently urging her to let him speak. “I probably shouldn’t have taken you to bed that night. Not because I didn’t want to. God, I wanted to. I’d basically been white knuckling it since I dove into that hotel pool after you, and when you told me to kiss you, I kinda lost my grip.”

“You lost your grip?” Her voice was incredulous, and he grinned in response.

“You’ve always been able to knock me off my game, Buttercup. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He smiled at her, squeezing her hand as she blushed. “But I should’ve known what that would do to you, to us. Especially since we didn’t get a chance to talk about it and what it meant.”

She nodded, tilting her head to look at him. “What…what did it mean?”

He huffed a sigh, leaning his head back against the suede sofa. “Jesus, Buttercup…it meant everything to me. Holding you again, feeling you again…” He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. “It felt like things were finally back to normal. I woke up with you in my arms again after almost 12 years. I got to kiss your cheek that morning as I snuck out of bed to make our family breakfast. I got to hang out with both my daughters. We were planning a full day of fun family activities, and it felt so fucking domestic that the Jake from 15 years ago probably would’ve punched me in the dick for being so soft.” He grinned at the soft rasp of her chuckle. “And yeah, I was pretty pissed off when you told me you were leaving. I saw my daughter hurting and I was hurting, and I lashed out at you.”

“I deserved it.”

He was already shaking his head before she could get the words out. “Not like that, you didn’t. I basically told you the same shit I did 12 years ago when you told me you wanted to take the job out here. I didn’t listen to you. And looking at this place, who can blame you for wanting to come back?” He looked around again, wishing the walls could talk. Wishing they would tell him stories of the 12 years he missed out on because he was such a stubborn prick. “You built a life for yourself and Abby out here. You should be proud.”

“And you should hate me.” Her words, gasped out through a sob, brought his attention back to her like a shot. “I abandoned you again. I couldn’t keep my shit together long enough to have a real, adult conversation with you because I was so fucking scared that, if I did, I would stay. We would stay and things would be so fucking good between us, because they were also so fucking good between us, and then the other shoe would drop and I would end up hurt again, except this time Abby would choose you because I’m the monster who keeps fucking up, so I would end up all alone, and I’ve worked so hard to be okay with being alone but I don’t think I would be able to recover from being with you again.” Hot tears streaked down her cheeks, her breaths coming out in heavy pants as she tried to catch her breath. “And I was so damn scared of being vulnerable with you, but it was so damn easy to fall back in step beside you. The dinner, and the football game, and the party, and all these little moments where I found myself slipping, found myself having to remind myself that we weren’t married anymore, and it was scary.” She mopped at her eyes with the sleeves of her oversized sweater and sniffled. “I like who I am better when I’m with you. The scary things aren’t so scary when you’re by my side.” Her admission was so quiet that he had to lean in to hear her. “But needing you like that? I knew it would only hurt me more if I let myself need you again and lost you anyway.”

“You’re not going to lose me again,” he murmured, thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand.

“You don’t know that.”

“What I know…” He tugged her hand so that she turned to face him. “What I know is that I’m going to fight for you, fight to keep you in my life again. Because I like who I am better when I’m with you too. I’m less of a condescending prick when you’re around. I don’t take stupid, unnecessary risks when I know that I’ve got you to go home to. I don’t…” He cleared his throat, ready to admit the one thing he had never spoken aloud to anyone, not even his therapist. “I don’t feel the pull to get back in the air when I know that the best thing in my life is on the ground. I just never realized that until I lost you.” With another tug at her hand, he pulled her onto the couch beside him. “I told you that I gave you all sorts of reasons why you could stay, but I never told you why I wanted you to stay.” He raised a hand to brush the tears from her watery eyes, broad palm cupping her cheek. “I want you to stay because of how warm and happy the house feels when you’re in it. I want you to stay because of how much lighter Charlie is with you in her life. I want you to stay because you make Rooster less of a miserable dick.” Her snort of laughter made him paused, heart warming at the sound. “I want you to stay because my life hasn’t been the same since you walked out of our home that night, divorce papers signed on the kitchen table with your wedding ring on top.” His thumb skimmed across her cheekbone, and he let those words that were burning in his chest escape. “I want you to stay because I love you and I want to give us another chance.”

Buttercup crumpled into his chest, Jake’s arms going around her to hold her close as the words sank in. He felt safe and warm. He felt like home.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Jake only moved to go get Buttercup a glass of water from her kitchen. That had been another peek into her life here. The walls were a light burgundy, cabinets a light grey with silver fixtures and appliances. When he returned, he pressed the glass into her hand before allowing her to curl up into him again, her tears starting to clear.

“How don’t you hate me? I hate me.” Her quiet, ragged voice broke their silence.

“I think maybe that’s the problem,” he murmured, pressing a quiet kiss to her hair. “I never hated you. I tried to, but the more I tried, the less I hated you. It was like…by trying to rationalize hating you, I ended up playing Devil’s advocate for why you left.” He chuckled quietly. “I kept coming to your defence against myself. I guess I just don’t have it in me to hate you. But you…” His firm but gentle hand traced her cheek before tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. “You’ve always been harder on yourself than anyone around you. And I get that. I practically invented that. Part of what made me fall in love with you is that you have the same drive to be perfect, to be the best at everything. That’s what made me the best at Top Gun. That’s what’s made you an award-winning author and a fucking incredible mother. When you got sick, I think maybe you kept blaming yourself for it not being perfect, which only made it worse?”

Buttercup nodded against his fingers on her chin and sighed. “My therapist and I talked about it a lot. I’ve been working on letting go of trying to be perfect, but it’s hard to reconcile with. I did a lot of damage.”

“So did I,” Jake murmured back. “I was basically a team pariah before you came along and turned me into a half decent human being. And maybe if I had admitted to someone—to Mav or Penny or my grandfather—that we needed help, that we were struggling, then maybe I could’ve gotten us both help before divorce became the only option. But living in Texas, having my grandfather around, it really helped. When I was struggling, he told me that I had to work on forgiving myself for letting us fall apart. It took a long time, longer than it should have.” He chuckled morosely and ran a hand over his hair. “Mav always used to tell us that we couldn’t afford to think in the cockpit. That we had to act on instinct and not get caught up in our mistakes. Letting you go, getting divorced? Those are the mistakes that I could never move past. Maybe because I knew I needed to fix them? I don’t know. But I was finally able to forgive myself for the part that I played. And this isn’t going to work if you don’t do the same.”

Fresh tears spilled over Buttercup’s cheeks. “But what if we do try again and it doesn’t work?”

“What if it does work?” He tugged her close and brushed away her tears. “What if it does work and it ends up being incredible?” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, reveling in the way she melted against him at the simple touch. “Don’t you think it’s worth it to try?”

Lips trembling, Buttercup met Jake’s green gaze. “You’re worth it,” she whispered through her tears. “You always have been. I just don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t.” Jake’s soft, Texan drawl brooked no argument. “We’ve worked through our crap. We know what to look out for. We know how to communicate better than we did before. And we’ve got a whole team behind us who want us to succeed.” He smiled down at her, so soft and full of love that the last of Buttercup’s defences melted away. “I love you, Buttercup. I always have and I always will. I know we’ve got a ton of logistical bullshit to figure out, like where to live and—”

“Actually—” Buttercup cut him off with a small, sheepish grin. “I might have talked to my company before you got here.”

Jake went impossibly still. “You did?”

She shrugged shyly. “Bob made a good point. I’m the one with the awards, I’m the one with my name on the covers of the books. I should be the one in charge. So…I pointed that out to them. And after a few ultimatums and making one of the lawyers cry, we were able to come to an agreement.” The hope in Jake’s eyes made her chest ache. She reached out and trailed a soft hand over his cheek. “I might have to keep some strange hours, and I need to come back for in-person meetings once a quarter, but otherwise…they’re alright with me working from home. In Texas.”

Jake’s responding whoop of excitement had her covering her ears for all of a second before he scooped her off the couch and spun her around.

“Whoa, whoa, easy cowboy!” Buttercup laughed, hands on his broad chest to steady herself.

“You’re sure this is okay with you?” Jake breathed; face so close to hers that his breath fanned over her.

“I…I want to try again.” Buttercup teared up as she said the words, but she knew them to be true. The truest words she had ever spoken. “I love you, Jake Seresin. I don’t think I ever stopped. And I want to move to Texas to try this again with you.”

Jake’s smile was more brilliant than the Sun. “As you wish, Buttercup.”

Buttercup launched herself into his arms, the arms that had held her and kept her safe for so long, as she heard a key jangle in the door.

“Mum?”

“Abby, darling, I told you. Your mother has gone on a little trip. She will be back soon.” Genevieve’s lilting voice held no admonishment, only reminder.

“We’re in here,” Buttercup called through a laugh, head buried in Jake’s chest.

“Mum?” She could hear Abby coming closer. “Did you miss your flight? Where were you go—DAD!” Not willing to let go of his Buttercup, Jake extended an arm and wrapped Abby up into their embrace. “What are you doing here? Where’s Charlie? What’s going on? Mum, why are you crying?”

Buttercup gently soothed her through her tears, a bright smile on her face. “Shh, babe. It’s alright. I was going to go back to Texas to talk things through with your father, but he beat me here. And…” She smiled brightly at Jake. “I think we came to a solution that will make everyone happy.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news!” Genevieve cooed from her place in the doorway.

Jake turned to smile at her and stilled. “Buttercup?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is a French supermodel standing in your living room?”

The three ladies laughed at Jake’s astonished face. “You must be Jake Seresin. I have heard so much about you from Robert.” Genevieve extended one perfectly manicured hand out and he shook it dazedly.

“Robert?”

“Did I hear my name?” Bob’s voice called from the front door. A few steps brought him to the living room, where he wrapped an arm around Genevieve’s shoulders. “Hi sweetheart.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and Jake’s mouth dropped even further.

“Bonjour, mon amour.”

Jake tilted his head to whisper in Buttercup’s ear. “Your brother is dating a French supermodel?”

Before she could do more than giggle, Buttercup heard her front door open again.

“You know, y’all should really change the locks after someone moves out.” Natasha’s voice boomed through the house. “I know it’s only been like two days but c’mon.”

Buttercup’s head whipped towards Jake. “I thought you said Charlie was with Nat and Javy?”

He grinned, so cocky and self-assured. “I did. I just never said where Charlie, Nat and Javy were.” He pressed a small kiss to her cheek. “You didn’t think that I would fly across an ocean to visit my wife and leave our daughter home alone, did you?”

Buttercup flushed because, well, that’s exactly what she had been planning to do.

“We’re in here!” Abby shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.

Charlie bounded around the corner and, without hesitation, launched herself at her mother. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye!”

Gasping for breath, Buttercup wrapped her arms around her daughter and squeezed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m the one who is so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I was scared.”

Charlie nuzzled into her mother’s chest. “Scared?”

“Yeah, honey.” Buttercup reached out an arm and pulled Abby close too. “But I’m not anymore. Your dad and I talked, and he helped me realize that I can’t let my fears rule my life. It’s not fair to anyone.”

“And what does that mean?” Bob asked, one hand resting on Genevieve’s back. He reached over to hug Natasha close as she came further into the house, Javy in tow.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that myself.” Nat cocked an eyebrow at her.

“It means…” She smiled over at Jake, who couldn’t help himself. He pressed a slow, sweet kiss to her lips, feeling everything in his life click into place, like the puzzle that was his life was finally complete. “It means that we’re going home. We have a lot of work to do, and it might not be perfect, but it’s worth it. We are worth it.”

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@dashes-dizzydisaster

@a-girl-who-loves-disney

@boiolay

@djs8891

@tgmreader

@kmc1989

@landpiranha-blog

@sydthekid1518

@lynnevanss

@mackenzieblair

@minejungwoo

@starset21

@lewglengirly

@dempy

@lovemarvelousfics

@starkleila

@magical-spit

@whatislovevavy

@simplyreading96

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@itsdesiree86

@inky-sun

@books-are-escapes

@abaker74

@devil-angel-winchester

@mrs-perfectly-fine

@inthestars-underthesun

@smoothdogsgirl

@rintheemolion

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Part 17

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 17: Gee, I sure hope nobody raises the Spectator from the dead, that wouldn't be great...unless...?

Word count: ~950

A/N: Another shorter chapter because I think the next one is gonna be much longer 😳

Your first thought is you hadn’t heard anything approach you. No woosh or vibration in the air when the Spectator moved, just as it didn’t make any noise now.

Neither you nor Wyll moved, but he tensed up beside you. Each of you waited for the Spectator to move, but it just floats there, eyes on you and maw agape.

“Please tell me that’s your work,” Wyll whispers.

You want to respond, shrug, murmur, anything but your body doesn’t obey. You’re tapped in its gaze, mind blank except for that little tingle in your head. Except it’s not in the back of your head now, it’s in your left temple, like a little bit of static is settled on your skin.

“Why isn’t it moving?” you whisper to Wyll.

“I think,” Wyll says slowly, “you’re controlling it.”

“I beg to differ.” You try to cut the cord, the connection you just barely feel to it but nothing happens. The creature still stares at you and you at it. Two large thumps are heard behind you and you catch the Spectator’s eyes flick to the two tieflings you know landed behind you. It soon looks back to you.

Wyll sticks his arm in front of you and slowly starts to push you back, ensuring he’s between you and the aberration.

“Minutus!” a voice calls.

The Spectator flinches and a purple light surrounds it. Wyll gives you another small push back but rather than attaching the creature shrinks. It gets smaller and smaller until it’s the size of a large rat, blinking up at you and flexing its jaws.

You and Wyll peer down at it, quickly joined by Tav and Karlach.

“It’s so cute,” Tav says. His eyes sparkle down at the thing he killed just last night.

You hate to admit it, but he’s right. Now that it isn’t the size of a small school bus it’s not quite as scary, and the fact that its eyes take up most of its head makes it look like a Disney animal companion.

“That should take care of that.” You all turn to find Gale approaching, Shadowheart at his side. He looks at you. “Perhaps we should start those lessons sooner rather than later.”

You nod. You can feel the Spectator watching you but now that it’s smaller it seems to look around more. Its eyes roll towards the tieflings, then to Gale as if knowing he was the one that cast the spell.

“I can’t cut the thread,” you say.

“Thread?” Tav asks.

“When I…raise something,” you explain, “it feels like a thread between them and me. But with this—“ you gesture to the Spectator, “—I can’t cut it like I did with the redcaps.”

“Perhaps it’s a familiar now,” Wyll suggests. He crouches down to poke at the Spectator and when it gives a small snap at him he pulls back and stands. “When I could summon creatures from the Hells I could feel where they were, I suppose you might consider it like a thread.”

You nod again, unable to do anything else.

“Congratulations,” Shadowheart says, “you now have a familiar the size of a large potato.”

She laughs at her own joke and you scratch your nose to hide a smile. It really is the size of a large potato. The Spectator floats towards your ankles and circles you, then rubs against your boot as a cat would.

“Aww,” Karlach says, “it’s kinda cute, the little ‘tator-tot.”

“Tator,” you mumble. The Spectator looks up at you.

“I think it likes the name,” Wyll tells you. It might be a joke, but you crouch down all the same.

“Can it talk?” you ask. Shovel could talk, as could all animals given the right spell or potion.

“Perhaps, given the proper training for you both,” Gale says.

You’re not sure if you want to hear what a Spectator has to say, but there is something endearing about the way it gazes up at you. You ask, “Can you understand me?”

The creature wavers over the ground, maybe saying it does.

“Do you want to be my familiar?”

The Spectator appears to startle at the question before hurrying to circle your ankles three times. You watch it go, as do the others until it settles in front of you and opens its jaws wide, releasing a yawning screech.

“Master!” it says. Not with its mouth, but you hear the words all the same in your head.

“I don’t think you need its permission,” Wyll tells you, “but it seems to be agreeable.”

“Let’s just hope the spell doesn’t wear off in the middle of the night,” Shadowheart adds.

Gale makes a huff of indignation. “It most certainly will not!”

“Even if it did, it’s a familiar now,” Tav says. He crouches before the Spectator, ready to poke it when it moves swiftly behind your legs. You turn and reach down, carefully taking it into your arms and holding it not unlike a baby. The eyes in its tentacles close and smooth back as it relaxes into your arms. It can’t weigh more than ten pounds as it settles, all eyes closing now.

“I think it may be best to stay at camp,” Gale says. “We can go over some of the basics of controlling the weave, among other things.”

“Yeah,” you relent. At least if Gale was teaching you magic Astarion wouldn’t be hanging around. The pale elf is probably more than willing to get out of camp and stab something, and you’d prefer to avoid the myconids, at least until you have your necromancy under control.

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid @troutberryspoon @betwixttheweave @the-pale-elfs-love @kindadolly @bitchyzombienacho @game-savvy @hardbarbarianfox @secr3tlover @stranger-owl @alice4wonderland2812 @donat-senpai @rainbowangel @3dragonstar @starry-crossed @grace-writes-shit

[notmorbid]

dead like me, season 1.

dialogue prompts from season one of bryan fuller's dead like me.

i excel at not giving a shit.

a sunny disposition goes a long way in any line of work.

if it's my lunch hour, why is it only 35 minutes?

i know what might cheer you up.

everyone always says the same shit at funerals.

why do you have to be such an asshole?

they're not invisible. you just can't see them.

leave the plastic. cash is king.

isn't stealing from dead people kind of tacky?

i'm sorry, i tuned you out. were you whining?

as childhood traumas go, nothing beats the realization that everything dies. including you.

unhappy people do unhappy things.

you need to leave now. you're making me tired.

souls go bad in all kinds of ways.

all you can ever hope to do is make it easier. that may not seem like a lot, but it is.

i think for me, death was just a wakeup call.

you know what your problem is? you wake up every morning wondering what the world's gonna do for you.

i'm going to say this as politely as possible: i will fuck you up.

i am really trying to respect you. i am. but it's really hard sometimes.

carving my own path seems like way too much work.

just so you know, i'm very prone to anxiety attacks.

most of the time i'm talking out of my ass. i don't know shit.

just smell some fucking roses already.

you know, you can talk to me about stuff. if you want to.

monotony is the mind killer.

what you do now matters. what you don't do matters.

what is an average heart, anyway?

the password's 'rimjob', if you want to get on.

i wish people were more complicated, but they're not.

i don't want my picture taken.

it's very tempting to think the little jewels from our lives will bring it all back. but they won't.

i was dreaming about frogs.

i'm pretty sure they put mind control drugs in the water cooler.

you can't come up with a more original way to act out?

intuitive thinkers are the worst.

people lie all the time. it's not a bad thing.

if a lie is big enough, there's an instinctive need to protect it. it's almost maternal.

i need somebody to give me lessons on how to communicate with you, because i'm at a loss.

i need to be unconscious.

have you ever kept a scrapbook?

the lengths i go to for free food.

you've got a worldly quality. a certain je nai se quoi.

falling's easy, you just fall. jumping requires strength of will.

my face gets sore if i smile too much.

do you have to be such an asshole?

there's a finite number of personalities in the world, and i have met them all.

no wonder your children don't come and visit you.

jesus christ, fella, cut the cord.

you always seem to go a different way than everyone else.

open door's an invitation. gotta jump while the door's open.

why do i keep losing all the things and people that i care about?

when you can't make sense of someone leaving, you try to make sense of what they left behind.

i just don't get our culture's obsession with moving on. what are we afraid of, remembering? being sad?

you want to steal something, don't you?

you want to be a bowling pin your whole life, or would you rather be the ball?

i'm sorry, i'm trying to flirt with you. it's not really my thing.

why are you stalking me?

i could burn you a really great cd, if you want.

your perversions are coming into disturbing focus.

not in that life, not in this one, not ever.

you get close enough to see the pain, and it's no longer funny.

i really liked kissing you.

we all create, in our heads, who we are. who we want others to be.

what fresh hell is this?

just because you're dead doesn't mean you have to give up.

i'm not good at the pet thing.

i don't exactly know where home is, these days.

if you don't know the difference between flipping and flopping, we're knee-deep in water without a paddle.

i'm concerned you don't know what you're asking for.

i think some people wander because that's who they are.

you are a very internal little creature.

is it wrong to decide someone's a great person because they're so much like you?

you want to get coffee? i think that's what you're supposed to say when somebody's having a fucked-up day.

you do know the story, right?

you didn't do anything wrong. i'm just screwed up.

i didn't know that was all the time we'd have.

a girl's got needs, you know. even a dead girl.

i'm sure there's going to be some karmic reward for you down the line.

how's the whole 'dead' thing working out for you?

everybody grieves in a different way.

i could've, should've. didn't.

when you're mourning yourself, closure is a little tricky.

the one death you never get over is your own.

you can go fuck a duck.

i think i'm going to miss you the most.

do you want to do some acid?

i feel that my current reality is altered enough.

traveling alone has a certain magic.

what, did you all get together to vote me off the island?

the world is a very big place, and you are not the center of it.

let's just pretend everything is back to normal.

if you stand too close to a painting, all you see are patches of color. stand too far back, and you're missing all the detail.

haunting is all about envy.

i've always wanted to knock over a liquor store.

people mostly just want to hear themselves talk.

i work better alone.

i love the books that people leave here.

if a tree falls in the forest, who gives a fuck?

you can't smoke in here.

you have no respect for authority, you know that?

this job is really getting in the way of the business of living.

you only have one shot at life. this isn't a dress rehearsal.

i'm sorry i wasn't sweeter.

i'm sorry i didn't show you as much affection as i felt for you. i did love you.

i keep forgetting how young you were.

i love cemeteries. the quiet. the stories on headstones.

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- No One Speaks Of This!

This one was requested over on Wattpad. I’m working on other requests now!

1 month to go. 1 month until I finally get to meet my child. My husband, Edward died before I knew I was even pregnant. Since then aunt Poll and my brothers have been keeping a very close eye on me. Today it's my brothers turn to watch me, Polly, Ada and Esme are off out on a shopping spree.

I walk into Tommys office at the betting shop where all my brothers are

"Bloody hell YN your fucking massive" Arthur shouts nursing a whisky in his hand

"Please never get married and get a women pregnant" I shake my head and roll my eyes

"Come sit down" John pulls out a chair for me. I smile gratefully at him and take the seat

"Thanks. At least one of my brothers have sense" I laugh

"How are you feeling?"

"Achy. My feet are swollen, not that I can even see my feet anyway" I rub my huge belly "and on top of that I keep having these pains"

"Pains?" Tommy frowns looking worried

"Polly said it's normal. Wouldn't worry. I'm not gonna give birth on your desk if that's what your worried about"

"Don't even joke about that" Tommy points at me the walks over, crouching down "you listen here. You don't make an appearance until Polly and Ada are home. You got that?"

"You lot better get to work. I'll just sit here and read"

"You let us know if something happens or if you need anything" Arthur says placing a hand on my shoulder

"Yeah yeah" I wave my brothers away and get my book out of my bag.

As I sit reading, the pain that I have been feeling seems to be getting worse. It's now like a cramp coming a going, getting stronger and stronger. I shift in my seat uncomfortably and feel a pop and water runs down my leg soaking the seat

"What the fuck?" I gasp

"What? What's wrong? What...." Arthur runs over to me

"I didn't even need the toilet" I hold my stomach as pain washed over me

"Shit" John sighs

"Tom. Better clear your desk. Our sister is about to have a baby"

"No. No chance I'm not giving birth to my baby on his desk and no way am I having my older brothers look at my womanhood"

"You want me to go and grab Finn or maybe Michael"

"Hell no" I shout at John

"Then you've got no choice love"

"Fuck.... Ok fine get me up" I hold my hands out for Tommy and Arthur to help me out of the chair. They walk me, slowly, to Michaels office "why are we going int Michaels office?"

"You said you didn't want to give birth of my desk"

"Your evil Tommy"

"Yeah yeah get up there" Arthur and Tommy help me up onto the desk and help me to lie down

"Right well since John boy is the most experienced one here... take the lead"

"Oh god" I groan

"Ok then. YN legs up"

"I've never been more grossed out than I am right now" I cry doing as my brother asks

"Shit. Ok YN I can see the head"

"Oh shit" Arthur gags. Tommy takes my hand and squeezes it tight

"When you have that tight pain you need to push"

Thankfully within 3 pushes I have a baby boy in my arms. My baby boy. John cuts the cord. We wait for the placenta to arrive while Arthur goes to my house to get me some clean clothes.

Once I’m cleaned up I sit in Tommys office on a sofa

"None of us ever speak of this again" I look at my brothers who all agree every quickly.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" I hear Polly yell as she walks through the door of the betting shop

"John delivered a baby" Tommy says as if it's nothing

"Wait YNs baby? He's early. Is he ok? Is YN ok?"

"Both are fine. Go in my office" Polly, Ada and Esme walk into Tommys room "oh my god YN"

"Shhh. He's just gone to sleep"

"What did you name him?" Esme asks walking over to me

"William Edward Shelby"

"Shelby?" Polly asks confused

"We I never took my husbands name. And I think he deserved to have both of our names. So he gets his dads and mine"

"I love it. And your ok?"

"Yes. We both are"

"I'm sorry we couldn't be here"

"It's ok. Who knew mister here would want to meet you all now"

"Well. Wellcome to the world William"

"What the fuck happened to my desk!" Michael shouts. Polly, Esme and Ada all look at me confused

"I didn't want to have my baby on Tommys desk. Tommy took me to Michaels"

"Bloody hell" Polly sighs "let the blood bath commence"

[stoutguts]

My own personal Hybrid AU??? (Also, Omegaverse). Chock full of my own personal headcanons and ideas. Unorganized/kind of rambling, really just trying to put all my thoughts to paper.

PART 1 CUZ ITS LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE 💀

German Shepherd and Border Collie mix/Shollie hybrid/alpha Soap, and gray wolf and Great Pyrenees mix/wolfdog hybrid/trans omega Ghost. Great Dane and Bloodhound mix hybrid/beta Yuri. (Weredogs, puppy Ghost, puppy Soap, and puppy Yuri teeheehee).

(Simon has their ears cropped and tail docked (and not by choice). It’s ears and tail were severely mutilated, when tortured and held captive by Roba. They had no choice but to crop and dock their ears and tail, as they were disfigured beyond repair. He has metal/silver canine teeth, black and white alternating/“domino” nails/claws, and a pink nose and paws pads. Scarred all over,—but more distinctive features include; a scar across it’s lips (that it got while being tortured and being held hostage by Roba). A large crooked and broken nose, (having never healed quite right and has been broken countless times). A nick/scar across the bridge of their already mangled nose, (if their punched or smacked from just the right angle when wearing their hardshell mask, it cuts into them, (the wound/scar often being reopened and never being allowed to heal). Johnny carries around a few extra masks or balaclavas and extra gauze in his med pack just for when this happens, as he knows they hate the smell of blood and the feeling of it soaking their mask, (it’s a sensory thing that drives them nuts). It has a scar that cuts across the side of it’s cheek, cutting down through the jawline, and stopping at the side of it’s neck, (it got it while being held at knifepoint, the jackass went as far as to flay a good patch of it’s skin off). As well as, a large, jagged scar that wraps around their neck, (they got this after they nearly had been choked to death with some barbed wire). (Which permanently fucked up it’s mating gland and it’s most important scent gland. Since then, their hormones have been out of wack, and their heats are almost always irregular. It’s scent has been forever tainted. Instead of their previously sweet smell,—a combination of vanilla, lavender, and chocolate.—It’s scent is now similar to a mixture of rotten flesh, blood, and gasoline. (Though it hasn’t deterred their boyfriend one bit 💖). Not to mention, the barb wire had dug so deeply into their throat at one point, that it severed a few of their vocal cords. They have a characteristically hoarse and raspy tone to their voice because of that). He wears a heavy steel chain collar, with a silver tag that states its name, callsign, task force, rank, and blood type. They’ve got an identical chain leash to match too. It's eyes are positively striking, one is a honeyed brown, while the other is an icy blue. It’s fur is long, and is fluffy and/or downy, but equally coarse and wiry. They have a pure snow white coat that requires a shit ton of regular grooming, as it easily gets matted or dirty. Ghost uses purple shampoo to maintain the color of his coat).

(Johnny has nicked ears, one ear is pointy, while the other never really perked up, and is half-floppy/flopped down. Although he’s littered with scars,—new pink ones and white old ones,—he’s got some particularly distinctive ones; a scar from a bullet wound on his shoulder (from when he’d been shot by Graves), his scarred temples (from when he had nearly been killed by Makarov). The scar on his chin (which he got when he was a teen, at his lowest, self-harming). He's got a ring-like scar that wraps around one section of his tail, with tufts of fur missing. The scar cutting through his eye, (which he got when his abusive mother threatened him with a kitchen knife, in the midst of a particularly heated and escalating verbal fight. An altercation ensued, and as he attempted to disarm her/snatch the knife away from her, she slashed him with it, and it just so happened catch his eye. The witch was hardly remorseful, even after he’d gone blind in that eye, (though it definitely could’ve gone way worse). As well as, past s/h scars all over his thighs, arms, and shoulders. His scent is a concoction of pine, tobacco, and whiskey, and weirdly more pleasant than the average alpha’s scent. He wears a rope collar with a gold tag that says his name, callsign, task force, rank, and blood type, with an identical rope leash to go along with it. He’s got long, soft, and silky fur, that requires a bit of upkeep. Regular brushing and bathing usually does the trick just fine. His coat is sabled and tricolor, dark brown, charcoal black, and off-white. One of his eyes is a beautiful ocean blue, deep, vibrant and full of life. The other is discolored, a baby blue, shallow, lifeless,—but will somehow stare into your soul. He’s also got one metal/gold tooth/canine, white claws/nails, and a marbled pink and black nose and paw pads).

(Yuri's ears are cropped (by choice,—when his large ears were floppy, they’d get in the way all the time). His tail remains natural. His ears are pierced, one ear has one gold earring, while the other has two that are silver. He's smooth-coated, with a black, white, and ash-brown harlequin coloration. He has black claws, and a black nose. His paws/paw pads are heavily scarred, (acid burns), with fur missing. He also has quite a few scars from bullet wounds. His scent is a faint smell, and is a blend of eucalyptus, old books, and blueberries. His eyes are a grayish-blue, a bit dull, but pretty. All of his teeth and fangs are made of metal/steel. He wears a white leather studded collar, with a studded white leather leash to match. His collar has a patch on it that states his name, task force, rank, and blood type).

Gaz and Roach are Werecats, (kitty Gaz and kitty Roach hehehe). Kyle is a Panther hybrid, and a omega. While Gary is a Lynx hybrid, and a beta.

(Gaz has two particularly nasty claw marks over the center of his back and chest, and a single knick in the tip of one of his ears. They got the claw marks on their back and chest when a sparring match between them and Roach went terribly wrong. While, he got the knick in his ear from a bullet just barely missing their target, and grazing him. They have gold and silver canine teeth, white nails and claws, as well as a black nose and beans. Kyle’s eyes change color between forms and when shifting. Hazel normally, but full-on amber when in feline form. He has a beautiful sleek and silky, waterproof, jet-black coat, (though their spots are more pronounced than that of the average Panther). He also has very tough claws that can shred through just about anything. Their scent is an amalgamation of citrus, peppermint, and freshly brewed coffee).

(Roach’s got a pretty unique scar that covers their nose and the tip of their muzzle, as well as, a diamond-shaped scar over their Adam’s apple. They got the scar on their muzzle from a grenade exploding dangerously close to their face and badly singeing them. While, the diamond shaped scar is something they got when they had been captured by enemy forces, and were tortured for information. Because they wouldn’t talk, the torturer removed their vocal cords. “If you won’t speak, you might as well never speak again”. They had always been a person of few words,—and were promptly stripped of the very few words they did have. One of Gary’s ears is tipped/cut (and not of their own volition). Before they joined the 1-4-1 and prior to climbing the ranks, they were bullied harshly by their superior officers and taken advantage of. They were beaten up, called names, etc. Their callsign "Roach" was even originally a way to mock them and degrade them further. Eventually, they had enough and decided to stand up for themselves, and that was when they held them down and tipped their ear. Not only physically harming them, but humilating them by marking them as a feral cat, as one last hoo-rah. Thankfully, they're much better off nowadays with their current squad. They feel at home in the 1-4-1. They've also begun to see that their name isn't something to be ashamed of, but rather proud of. As it shows that they're one tough sucker to kill,—a tricky bastard. They’re a bit snaggletoothed,—some of their teeth are chipped. One of their canines has the tip broken off of it, while another one of their canines is metal/silver. They have white nails/claws, and a marbled pink and black nose and paw pads. They have massive paws and strong legs. Their eyes are a gorgeous emerald green, and really stand out. Their coat is a mix of grey, brown, black, and off-white, spotted, soft and fluffy.—But long, and requires regular care and grooming. (Fortunately, Gaz and them groom each other 💖). Their scent is a faint smell, but a fusion between butterscotch, vinegar, and freshly done laundry).

TBC SOON—