#yeah i've already made up a lot of my hours at work this week so

[myrlin]

friends, i finished work way earlier than normal today. gonna write a couple things then vibe on some video games !

[guppybibi]

Late WIP Wednesday ..

(aaa km not sure if i should finish this, it started off strong but just fell off and now my brain isnt working)

Simon’s home & marriage was his refuge, until it wasn't. He knew something wasn't right when you were coincidentally prepared for his return, all dolled up when you greeted him with an “I miss you” kiss. No, he was sure it wasn't you when he saw that the dinner table was prepared with a generous spread of food on it.

There was no reason for you to come this prepared, everytime he comes home from deployment is a surprise. So..how exactly are you this ready? It didn't sit right with him, the whole thing felt like it came out of a painfully obvious scripted reality TV show.

But food was food and after countless weeks spent eating barely edible MRE’s, a home cooked meal was all he needed. Sluggishly, he sat down at his unsaid designated spot at the dinner table. He closely watched if you would sit down at your designated spot, if you didn't; that’d explained a lot. You do end up sitting at your spot, it wasn't all that hard to do though. Dinner with you was unsettling to say the least, all of the small talk you were making felt forced, it’s barely been an hour and he already feels like he's going crazy.

He knows more than to question you upfront though, having gone through enough interrogations to know that he should take his time and that you could get hostile if things don't go your way. You could be a threat for all he knew, and it's better to be safe than sorry. Unsure if it was the right decision, he starts out some sort of small talk himself, asking you some seemingly innocent questions.

“What were yer up to while I was gone, luv?” He asks mid chew. “Oh not much, I just picked up a new hobby actually. Clay sculpting! I've been watching online tutorials, I could say I’ve been getting the hang of it if I do say so myself.” Liar, was all he could think while he subconsciously nodded to your words. You hated clay, not fond of the texture it had and the way it’d get stuck under your nails. Perhaps it was another one of your impulsive decisions, jumping into conclusions should be the last thing he should be doing. It could cost him more harm than good, so he lets it slide. For now at least.

“Sculpting eh? That's new, have ye finished any?” He pauses, swallowing his food. “I’d love to see them.” A spark lights up in your eyes, but it didn't look right. There's a lit candle in there but it's far, far away. The lack of life in your eyes makes his stomach spin like there's a guinea pig rolling around in their wheel in there, it made him want to puke. He wasn't the biggest fan of prolonged eye contact anyway, so he’ll just avoid looking you in the eye to prevent making a mess. “Oh yeah I actually do! They're already displayed on top of our shelves, I’ll show them to you after.” You exclaim, if that was you anyway, which it wasn't.

Dinner passed at an uncomfortably slow pace, Simon swore he could hear each individual tick and tock of the clock, the scraping of utensils against the porcelain plates and each chew you took. He’s gone through debatably louder things than this, the booms of the explosions were unforgettable after all but this somehow takes the cake. Wanting to distract himself further, he helps with washing the dishes which you normally did but you specifically chose today to help do the other minor chores. Water, that was your weak point. He noticed it, you didn't drink water after dinner either. What kind of monster doesn't drink water to hydrate after eating roasted pork?

To test out this thought of his, he decided to ask another question. “I'm heading to the shower, luv. Care to join me?” Meekly, he suggests to you, deep brown eyes staring intently as he awaited the already expected answer. “Oh I..actually already showered earlier dear. Maybe next time.” A dishearteningly dismissive reply, just like he expected. “Alright, suit yourself luv. I'll be back.”

He thought about it, almost forgetting about the bubbly soap running down his body from how deep in thought he was. There was no doubt about it anymore, everything about you being you, pointed away. At this point, he didn't care what the fake you was anymore, rather where you actually were. You could've been dead for all he knew, replaced by the soulless woman that now roams around his home.

This was beyond cruel, beyond the pain physical torture could've caused. It was like the universe was a cat and he was a yarn ball, being played by it meticulously. The whole thing was definitely planned out by a certain someone he knew, the both of you are fairly private so it couldn't have been a random person. He couldn't handle this alone, as much as he’d hate to admit, the situation was way bigger than him to do alone. So, he decides to call a trusted someone.

“You tellin’ me ye think your wife got abducted or something..and a doppelgänger replaced her?” A gruff voice questions, lightly tapping his cigar against the side of the ashtray. Price, him and Kate are the only members of the Task Force so far that Simon allowed you to meet. Well, it unfortunately looks like the sergeants won't get to meet you under these circumstances just yet. Strangely enough, the clocks inside the pub weren't working. Must be a malfunction. The masked man nodded, sighing through his nose when he got a whiff of the alcohol-filled air in the bar.

“I feel so.” He grumbled. “Couldn't she be just having an off day? We all have those, Simon.” John opposes it, it was an unquestionable possibility they couldn't simply ignore. “No, I know my wife. In my years of being with her, she's never acted this way.” Ghost hissed back, a hint of crystal clear impatience seeping out from his words. The lack of respect in his tone wasn't intended, but what could he do when his wife is apparently kidnapped and replaced so seamlessly? “I guess you have a point, but you need to confirm it Simon. You shouldn't make any decision on impulse, if the woman in your home really isn't your wife then this is a bigger issue.”

Then the plan was set, still a little all over the place but there really wasn't any time to lose. Simon would further observe the woman who's allegedly ‘you’ to make sure he isn't making things up, then if he was incredibly sure it wasn't you, he’ll head to the police and file a report for a missing person. In all honesty, it wasn't hard to do, having gone through missions more intense than this. Yet the fact that you were involved made the bugs inside of him crawl, this was totally his fault.

He didn't hide you away from the world enough, he should've just kept you locked inside a cage like the little birdie you were to avoid any danger coming your way. Simon wasn't stupid though, that was inhumane, you were one of the only few people who has managed to make Simon feel less of a ghost and more of a human. So doing such a thing to you was unethical and out of the books, but how could you blame him for subconsciously letting his possessiveness and worry take over when you're literally so far from his grasp? Being so near before that he could easily grip at the back of your top, now so far that the trace of your scent is long gone.

It makes Simon feel sick, his core being left to rot. He comes from the pub to what felt like an empty house, not home because nothing would feel like home without you there. He’d rather be living in a pile of rocks and plywood with you than in a giant mansion without you, that would be the real hell. “Bloody hell..where are you?” He murmurs under his breath, stressedly rubbing his creased forehead. If he could, he’d pry at every surface that comes up within his sight just to find you.

“I’m back.” He whispers, unsure if the fake you was asleep or not. Anyone, human or not wouldn't be happy being woken up from their slumber. “Welcome home, hun. You alright?” Looking up from your cup of tea, you ask. “Yeah, just spoke with the Captain. That's all, no alcohol.” Simon was so used to you being a worrywart about his alcohol intake, telling you that he didn't have any alcohol is practically ingrained into the wrinkles of his brain. But the woman in front of him didn't seem to care less about his health, let alone him in general. The lack of nagging that usually filled his ears to the brim didn't feel right, he would've much rather gone through another one of your yap sessions about how constant alcohol intake affects him in the long run than..just silence.

He feels the desperation inching up on him, eating him whole. At this point, he's willing to admit he doesn't want you. He needs you. He needs to hear your fretful complaints about him getting deployed, knowing you’d shut up because you were used to it by now. He needs you to tell him to include more vegetables in his diet because he's not some kind of carnivore to be eating that much meat. God, he just needs you with him. Whatever bloody thing came with you he’d take like it was on a stupid Black Friday sale.

“Not yet..” He’d think every single night, eyes wide open as he prevents himself from making a rash decision. The woman sleeping soundly right next to him, if that was you..But it wasn't, even if he stared at the unfamiliar woman for ten hours straight, she wouldn't just magically turn into you. Well sure, she was a carbon copy of you from head to toe but she simply just didn't scream ‘you’. Whatever and whoever you were anyway.

“When all is said and done, I think it'll end well Simon. My gut feeling tells me so, it's rarely ever wrong so I’m pretty sure we should trust it.” You ramble on and on, the little amount of alcohol taking over your lightweight self. Simon was still courting you here, yet he remembers it like it's been replayed in his mind like a broken record. He trusted your gut, and he could consider that as one of the best choices he's ever made in life.

But..trusting you now? While you're probably out, all shivering & teeth clattering from the immense cold night? Impossible, he’s fully aware that you're a capable strong woman however..how far can his trust go? How far do you have to venture into someone’s soul to gain their fragile trust, something that can be easily broken with your own bare hands? Ghost doesn't trust you, but Simon does.

“You're a strong gal, you can hold on for much longer.” He supposes, deep in thought while he flipped around in bed. The fake you hasn't set off any red flags yet, acting normal. Too normal. He knew ‘you’ had a purpose for being here, one with malicious intent, though what exactly? One wouldn't simply come in here and replace his wife with a fake one just out of spite, unless they were a little cuckoo. Tossing aside to check the time, he presses the ‘on’ button on his phone. Weird, the time didn't show up. Maybe it's just a glitch in the system.

“Simon, Hey? Simon, wake up. Hurry, you need to get up.” A voice shakes, lightly nudging him in order to awake him. It's your voice, he can instantly sense its meekness. With one eye and another, they flutter open, still full of sleep in them. “Oh thank goodness, you're awake! But you seriously need to wake up, like right now.” You crooned, hoping he’d fully wake up to the sound of your voice. Groaning, Simon sat up, a few joints popping in the process. “What..? Yeah, I’m awake luv. Whad’ya need me for?” He questions groggily, eyes opening further once he gets a closer look at you. It's actually you, he can tell! The way your eyes meet his, connecting like a bee landing on a precious flower. The way your voice lilted to him like a mother bird nursing her hatchlings, it really was you.

“Wait–luv? You're here? Bloody hell, you actually are–Did you see the other gal who looked just like you? Tell me I’m not losing my shit please.” Then you shushed him, convinced he’ll continuously go on and on if you didn't. “Please listen to me closely, Simon.” You pause, noticing how his eyes bask in yours like it was long overdue. “You need to wake up, hurry.”

[hauntedestheart]

Borrowing From His Roommate (Male Bodyswap)

"Oh, sweet, my new shirt came!" Kamil exclaimed. "What do you think?"

Sagar glanced up from his book and looked over at the shirt his roommate was holding- a ridiculous thing made of blue lace that he wouldn't be caught dead in. He winced.

"It's very..." Sagar eyed the blue thing dispassionately- as a rather simple guy, he'd never understand his roommate's fashion sense. "Ostentatious?"

"You're just too straight to see the vision," Kamil rolled his eyes, and Sagar scoffed. "This is gonna look great."

Kamil held the shirt up in front of his body, twisting side to side as he pretended to model the garment, and Sagar's eyebrow raised. The shirt was clearly several sizes too large- his twinky friend was already dwarfed by it and he hadn't even put it on yet.

"Isn't that way too big?" He asked. "You'll be swimming in that."

"Oh yeah," Kamil gave Sagar a wink. "Switcheroo!"

Sagar blinked and found himself staring at his own face. Glancing down, he saw two slender hands clutching a blue shirt, and a second later his own body snatched it away from him.

"I should never have let you talk me into trying that body swapping spell with you," Sagar groaned, twisting to stretch his back as he tried to acclimated to his newer, more slender form.

Kamil, in Sagar's body, wasted no time stripping off the t-shirt Sagar had put on earlier and slipping on the new top instead. The blue top was perfectly fitted to Sagar's form, though Kamil left several of the top buttons undone so the shirt hung loosely open and to reveal the light dusting of hair on Sagar's chest- which was somewhat pointless as the barely there lace that made of the rest of the shirt was see through put the rest of his borrowed musculature on easy display. Preening, he shook his body in a little dance just so how off how good he looked.

"See? I told you it would fit," Kamil said triumphantly, ignoring the unimpressed look Sagar gave him in response. "Anyways, sorry Sagar, I'm gonna have to borrow the body today."

"Borrow the body today" was, unfortunately, not an uncommon phrase in the Sagar/Kamil household. Weeks ago, a friend had returned from an overseas trip with a souvenir book full of "magic spells" and Sagar had been stupid enough to agree to try one with his roommate Kamil- he'd only done it to shut his friends up, he hadn't considered the possibility that it would actually work!

The spell had exchanged their bodies and Sagar had found the experience incredibly disorienting- Kamil was much shorter and skinnier than him and being so slender reminded him of being a kid again. Kamil, on the other hand, had gotten a lot more enjoyment out of the swap. Sagar was built like a tank, and Kamil was thrilled to be the one behind the wheel of such a powerful vehicle.

"Holy shit Sagar, I can touch the ceiling!" "Holy shit Sagar, I've got chest hair!" "Holy shit Sagar, I can lift the couch by myself!" "Holy shit Sagar, how do you walk with this thing?"

The spell had worn off after a few hours (though Sagar had not been able to prevent Kamil from locking himself in the bathroom for most of it) but it could be reactivated any time one of them said "Switcheroo..." something Kamil took full advantage of.

The twink looked for any excuse to swap with Sagar and enjoy the fruits of being, as he so lovingly put it, "a hunk," and in a weird sort of way Sagar had grown used to it. The two of them had been friends since they were very young so despite everything, Sagar still trusted his friend.

Mostly.

"So what is it this time?" Sagar sighed and rubbed a hand down his baby smooth face- Kamil had never been able to grow any facial hair. He knew by this point that it was better not to argue with his roommate, so he might as well just figure out what he was in for.

"I'm going out to see this guy and he's expecting this face," Kamil ran a finger over his new lantern jawline, then did a jaunty little dance side to side, rocking Sagar's hips like they'd never been rocked before. "Well, really this body, since that's what most of the pictures have been of."

"Did you catfish someone?" Sagar frowned disapprovingly. Borrowing his body without asking was one thing, but Sagar didn't like the idea of Kamil leading someone on.

"It's not catfishing if I show up looking like the photos!" Kamil protested, placing his hands and heaving his mighty chest for emphasis. "I promised him he'd get to play with these muscle tits and I'm delivering. Besides, the first thing this dude asked for was pictures so he wouldn't be talking to me if he didn't like what he saw."

"If this guy is only interested in my body, is he really worth your time?" Sagar questioned, and Kamil just shrugged and resumed groping Sagar's body. Sagar shook his head and sighed at how shallow his friend could be sometimes. "And delete any photos you have of my body by the way, I don't want those out there."

"You're right," Kamil agreed, his eyes still fixated on Sagar's body. He poked at his bicep "We're due for some updated shots- hey, have you been working out?"

Kamil grabbed a random object from nearby and began pumping it like a weight, admiring the way that the workout made his toned biceps flex. The sleeves of Kamil's new shirt grew tight as hard muscle strained against them, but Kamil didn't mind. He wanted it that way.

"Yeah, I have." Sagar puffed his (Kamil's?) chest up slightly- despite the circumstances, he was enjoying the opportunity to see the hard work he put into his body from another angle.

"Well it's nice," Kamil grinned, his famously charming smile looking incredible with Sagar's handsome face. "Keep up the good work buddy. Been hitting the squats too?"

Kamil leaned down into a lunge, twisting his hips as he experimented with moving Sagar's colossal ass around. The tight black pants Sagar had thrown on that morning clung to his thighs and really emphasized the round globes of his backside, and Sagar took advantage of the rare chance to observe his body from the outside and examined his own ass for a moment- his routine was hitting right it seemed. He'd have to do something about those pants though, he hadn't realized how tight they were.

"You know this spell only lasts a few hours," Sagar pointed out, interrupting his friend's stretching routine. "How are you going to cram a whole date into that period?"

Kamil leaned down and tweaked his own nose. "It's so cute that you think we're going to go on a date."

Sagar groaned and covered his eyes. "Kamil, not another hookup!"

"Yes another hookup!" Kamil sang. He spanked his ass a few times, playing the cheeks like bongo drums, and the little thwacks echoed through the garden. "You should be thanking me Sagar, if I wasn't taking this thing out for a spin every now and then it would be covered in cobwebs."

"I don't see why you can't do these dates in your own body," Sagar whined, and he gestured up and down at Kamil's slender form. "You're a handsome guy Kamil! Any guy would be lucky to get a chance with you, you don't have to hide behind my face."

"Aw, Sagar, that's so sweet of you to say," Kamil smiled, but then he shook his head and drew Sagar's body up to its full height and grabbed a handful of his crotch. "But no, this isn't an insecurity thing. This is a 'I feel like demolishing someone's ass tonight and your piledriver dick is more up for the task' kind of thing."

Sagar was about to argue, but then he just sighed and picked his book back up again. He supposed he saw the logic in what Kamil was saying- he could read just as well in any body, but his friend needed a body like Sagar's for his hookup.

"Okay, one date," Sagar agreed, and watched a huge smile break out over his own face. "And you use a condom, and you agree to wash all my dishes for this month."

"Thank you thank you thank you!" Kamil squealed, blowing Sagar a little kiss. Sagar rolled his eyes, but smiled. "And I'll tell you what, after this, I'll let you borrow this shirt whenever you want."

Sagar glanced up from his book and looked his body up and down- honestly, the shirt looked good on him. He winced, loath to admit that Kamil was wearing his body better than he had been.

"I might take you up on that."

[captainsophiestark]

Oldies And Goodies

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Bucky's not a fan of modern dating conventions, until Sam sets him up on a date with a good friend who shows him the potential of the modern world.

Word Count: 1,543

Category: Fluff

A/N: To the anon who sent me an idea outline for this, I hope you like it! It got merged with another idea I had, but hopefully, it's still pretty close to what you had in mind :) Thanks for continuing to read stuff for Grant Ward and enabling me to keep writing him- he's my fave, so I'm glad I have at least a few people to share the love with!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

My eyes scanned the restaurant, trying to make out Bucky through the dim lighting. After a moment, I caught sight of him at a table by the window. I smiled and started heading his way. As soon as he noticed me, he shared my smile and stood to greet me. Always the perfect gentleman. My heart skipped a beat, and I made a mental note to make Sam some cookies or something as a thank you.

Sam Wilson, a good friend of mine even before he'd taken up the superhero mantle, had recently introduced me to the second supersoldier out of time that he'd befriended. Bucky Barnes, the reformed Winter Soldier, was a little different than the Man With A Plan Steve Rogers, but he'd been different in a way that I liked. We'd hit it off pretty well, and with a some meddling from Sam, we'd set up a date within a few weeks of first meeting each other.

I'd spent an hour and a half making sure my outfit looked just right and trying to convince my nerves to calm the hell down. It was just a first date, with someone I was already friendly with. And I knew Sam wouldn't steer me wrong. Tonight was going to be fun.

Once I got close enough to the table, Bucky pulled a small bouquet of roses out from behind his back, holding them out to me with a lopsided smile. I gasped, taking them from him with a slightly disbelieving look.

"I've been told the flowers are a little old fashioned, but... it seemed like the right way to go," he said. I gave a little laugh, taking a moment to smell the roses (literally) before beaming back at Bucky.

"I love them," I said. His shoulders seemed to relax a little, the smile spreading to cover the rest of his face as he took a few steps closer to me.

"I'm glad. Here, let me get your chair."

He pulled my chair back from the table, gesturing for me to sit down. I nodded my thanks, trying to ignore the butterflies exploding in my chest as he scooted the chair back in for me like it was nothing. I gently laid the roses down on the table as he took his seat across from me again.

"Thanks for finding this place," I said, scanning the restaurant to take in the ambiance this time, instead of just searching for Bucky. "It's... really nice."

"Yeah, no kidding," he said, huffing a small laugh. "Honestly, I'm... a little out of my depth here. A lot's changed since the last time I asked somebody on a date."

"Well, for what it's worth, you've been doing pretty damn well so far."

We shared a smile, but then a silence settled over us that wasn't entirely comfortable. As much as this night seemed perfect, I couldn't help agreeing with Bucky. This place wasn't totally my scene, and I was starting to feel a little out of my depth, too.

"So..." I said, taking a deep breath and meeting Bucky's eyes again. "What exactly did dates look like back in the 1940s? One of the handful of times I talked to Steve, he said you set up a pretty cool double date to... some kind of expo?"

Bucky's eyes fell to the table even as his mouth pulled up in a smile. He nodded, talking as much to himself as to me.

"Yeah. Despite how it ended, I was always pretty proud of the Stark Expo one. We got to see a car fly long before any of that should've been possible. Walking around, looking at all the exhibits and experiments... honestly, it was incredible." He looked back up at me, the soft smile still in place. "Unfortunately, there weren't a lot of major, groundbreaking expos happening tonight for us to swing by."

"Damn. That would've been fun," I said, gently reaching across the table to take Bucky's hand in my own. I bit my lip, then looked up at him with a smile. "You know, Steve also said you're kind of a nerd."

Bucky snorted. Clearly, that's not what he'd been expecting me to say. He shook his head, but when he looked back at me, he had a smile on his face.

"Steve's got quite a few stories of his own that he should keep in mind when he says things like that."

"Well..." I took a deep breath, hardening my own resolve. Bucky and I were friends, and for whatever reason, this restaurant didn't feel right for either of us. I needed to trust him and our relationship so far, rather than pretending for norms or anybody else's approval. "Look, I don't know about you, but... this restaurant is lovely, but not exactly my usual vibe."

Bucky sighed, shaking his head and pulling his hand out of mine.

"I know, it's not really mine either. I just-"

"Hold on. I have an idea for a solution that might suit us both. And I think it'll be super fun."

Bucky stared at me for a few moments appraisingly, the faintest ghost of a smile appearing on his face.

"You know, I'm not used to letting the other person plan the date. But I guess I can make an exception."

I grinned. "Good. Because I have an idea that didn't exist in the 40s, but is the kind of modern thing I think you'll be able to get behind. You trust me?"

"...Yeah, I do."

"Good." I took Bucky's hand, grabbed my roses, then stood from the table. "Then follow me."

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

"...and in the original, Gollum volunteered the ring as a prize for Bilbo winning the riddle contest!"

I beamed at my date as he raised out of his chair, the few beers we'd had and his passion for Tolkien pushing him to make his point loudly after being called on for the bonus question of this round of trivia. The host grinned, ringing a bell and pointing at Bucky.

"Aaaaand that's correct! Mark that down as three points for Oldies and Goodies! Hang tight everybody while we update the scoring, and we'll be back with our final round in ten minutes."

With that, the bar dissolved into chatter again as everyone went their separate ways for the break in trivia. Bucky settled back down into his seat with a sigh, then carefully cut his eyes towards me.

"So... was that a dealbreaker for you?"

I laughed. "Are you kidding? You got us three points, all while schooling the rest of the bar on some nerdy shit! It was hot."

Bucky laughed at that, shaking his head even as a smile stayed in place on his face.

"Alright, I've done a lot of complaining to Sam about how much dating's changed since I last did it, but I'll admit... I like this."

I grinned. "I'm glad. And for the record, I like it too. As far as I'm concerned, being able to have fun and kick ass at bar trivia with someone is one of the best green flags there is."

"Well, good. Because that table over there is right behind us in the points, and after they shouted out the worst string of horseshit about the Hobit I've ever heard with complete confidence, there's no way I'm letting us lose to them."

"Hell yeah! I'll go grab us another round, and then we'll make them wish they'd never come to this trivia night."

I jumped down from my seat and started heading past Bucky to the bar, but he caught my arm before I could get very far, his expression more serious than I'd seen it all night.

"Hey. Thanks. For getting a round of beer, for agreeing to come out with me tonight, for bringing us here... it's the best time I've had in a while, and you've been pretty much the entire reason for that. So thank you."

I smiled, my heart speeding up in my chest as I took a half-step closer to Bucky and softly kissed him on the cheek before leaning back.

"You're welcome. Thanks for being willing to try out something as new and chaotic as bar trivia. Maybe we could even make it a weekly thing?"

Bucky beamed back at me. "Sweetheart, I would love that."

"Okay, good. Then start getting ready for the next round, because if we're coming back here next week, I want it to be in defense of our title. This is the beginning of the trivia power couple Oldies and Goodies."

"I like the sound of that," Bucky said, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned into me a little. I smiled, and he pulled me into his side, squeezing me tight before letting me go so I could get us both another round.

My dopey smile stayed on my face even as I got to the bar. I'd always had butterflies in my chest when I was around Bucky, but now, it was more than that. Being around him made me happy. I felt comfortable, and I didn't want the night to end. And luckily for me, he apparently felt the same way.

Destroying our enemies at trivia was just the beginning for us. And with no ending in sight, I truly couldn't wait to see what came next.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 1 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Your Step Father would like to introduce you into high society but you're required to take lessons to learn how to play the part and from your instructor's perspective it seems like you have a lot of catching up to do. Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Explicit Language, not really anything else at this point lol a/n: Planning on turning this into a short series so please let me know what you think <3 p.s. this is horribly edited and was written in one sitting lol

"Why do I have to suffer the consequences of the decisions you made for this family?" I say chasing after my mother as she walks down the main hallway in our new home. "Y/n becoming a debutant is not a consequence" she says, making her way into the main living room.

"To me it is" I complain, dreading this entire ordeal already. "The whole process only lasts about a year so-" "A year? You expect me to be parade around in pretty dresses and entertain people I have absolutely no interest in just because you decided to marry a rich man? Yeah, no I'm not doing it" I say, watching as she takes a seat on the couch waiting for me to tell her my grievances, knowing that I won't back down easily. 

"It's not a huge commitment I promise. You'll have etiquette lessons twice a week, go to a fitting every once in a while and take dance lessons once a week. I'm sure you can sacrifice a few hours out of your week for this. "Your father wa-" "Step father" I cut her off, making my stance on the man known. "Your step father wants to introduce you as his daughter and the best way to do so would be having you come out at a debutant ball" she explains hoping to show me their reasoning behind it. "Oh I'm straight so don't worry I won't be needing a coming out event or anything like that" I say teasing her. 

"Very funny" she says clearly unamused, "I would really appreciate it if you just did this for us, and if you don't want to do it for us then do it for you, for your future. Do you know how pivotal this moment could be for you? A lot of important people go to these balls so if you want to make a name for yourself in this city then that's a great place to start" she says hoping to entice me, showing how this could benefit me as well. "Just think about it, okay?" she says standing up to leave the room and placing a hand on my shoulder as a sign of reassurance, leaving me conflicted. 

A few days later at the breakfast table I finally decide to give them my answer. "Um, dad" I say hoping to get his attention. "Yes honey?" he says putting down the newspaper that he had just been flipping through. "I think I want to go through with the whole debutant thing if you still wanted me to" I say playing with my sleeve, still unsure of the choice I've made but I guess theres no going back now. "That's great! I'll contact the agency and get all of your lessons set up straight away" he says quickly texting his assistant, asking them to get things set in motion.

"Would you prefer private lessons or would you like to take them with some of the other girls that are preparing to come out as well?" he questions, still looking down at his phone. "Oh it's okay don't worry about getting her pri-" "Private lessons would be great" I say cutting my mom off. The less interactions I can have with these spoiled rich kids, the better. I send her a tight lipped smile, telling her to back off before I change my mind and she does just that. 

"Alright, I have Matthew working on it now so we could probably get everything set up by the time your classes end. You finish up at four right?" he asks, catching me off guard, "You know my class schedule?" I question. "Of course I do! What kind of father would I be if I didn't pay attention to my daughter's academics?" he says, giving me a warm smile before taking one last sip of his coffee, standing up to go. 

"I've gotta head off, love you" he says giving my mother a quick peck and then coming over to me to give me a kiss on the top of my head. "Have a good day you two" he says to us as his final adieu, heading out to where his driver is waiting for him. "Thank you" my mother says, happy with the effort I'm putting into assimilating our family. "I'm doing this for you guys, but I'm also doing this for me like you had said, I guess I'll just have to suffer through it for the next year" I say, already questioning myself. 

"I promise you won't regret it!" she reassures me, reaching out for my hand across the table and I mirror her action. 'I sure hope not' I say to myself and give her a pained smile before leaving to head off to class. 

"You're what?" my friend Jesse say, not believing a word I just said. "I'm gonna start taking lessons to become a debutante" I say, repeating myself, hoping he'll just take in the information so we can move past it. "So you're blowing me off so you can go to Barbie school?" he says, still in disbelief. "It's not Barbie school" I say rolling my eyes at him before sitting down at the table we usually hang out at during our breaks. 

"Aren't they going to be dressing you up and making you all girly so you can go to tea parties and balls?" he questions, sitting across from me. "Yes..." I say trailing off not being able to prove him wrong. "Barbie school" he says satisfied with himself, taking a bite out of the apple he had just bought for dramatic affect. "Whatever" I say crossing my arms across my chest. "So when do you start?" he asks, suddenly curious about the topic. "Matthew sent me a text with the address I'm supposed to go to for my first etiquette lesson so I guess I'll be headed there after class. 

"And Matthew is...?" he questions, "My dad's assistant, I've told you this like five times already" I say rolling my eyes at him. "I'm sorry okay, there have been a lot of changes in your life and brand new characters added to the cast so it's hard to keep it all straight" he explains. "Name one other person besides Matthew that I've told you about" I say with a raised brow, curious as to who these 'new characters' might be. "Your step dad" he says proudly, not elaborating further. 

"Anyone else?" I ask, rolling my eyes at the cop out answer he gave me and he decides to sit in silence after putting little to no thought into anyone else I might've told him about. "Do you even know his name?" I scoff, feigning irritation. "Scott? No Thomas!" he says confident in his second answer. "It's James" I say standing up and grabbing my stuff so I can walk towards my next class. 

"I'm sorry, you know I have shit memory" he says throwing his arm around my shoulder after catching up to me, having only been a few steps behind. "I know" I shake my head laughing it off, "It's funny how clueless you are sometimes" I say, shrugging his arm off of me. "Hey!" he whines, semi offended. "It's okay though, I still love you" I say waving him off as we part in different directions and blowing a kiss at him which he bats off to the side, rejecting my love. "Later loser" he says and we head off to our respective classes.

After the lecture is finally over my professor calls me to the front. "Yes?" I question, waiting for what he has to tell me. "I read your paper last night" he starts, "I'm sorry Professor I had some other assignments due at the same time so I wasn't able to put in as much effort as I wanted to" I confess feeling guilty about putting that assignment on the back burner. "Well I was actually going to tell you that I was rather impressed with it" he says looking up at me from his seated position at his desk, fixing his glasses. 

"Really?" I question, surprised that it was good enough for him to even single out. "I wanted to ask if you would be interested in participating in this writing contest at the end of next month" he proposes and hands me the flyer showing all of the details. "You really think my writing is good enough?" I question, not even having considered signing up for something like this. "I wouldn't be speaking to you about it if I didn't think it was" he says laughing at my reactions. 

"This would be amazing thank you!" I say starting to skim through the details real quick. "You can take that with you if you'd like" he offers and at that I nod in thanks and say my goodbyes before walking out and heading out towards my car. 

"Now where exactly is this place?" I ask myself aloud, pulling up the text I got and putting the address into my gps. "45 minutes?" I say in astonishment, now slightly panicked seeing that even if I leave now I'll still be 10 minutes late. "What the hell Matthew?" I curse and put my seatbelt on, speeding out of the parking lot and down the street, praying that I'll be able to somehow shave a few minutes off the eta to make it in time.

"Punctuality is one of the most important aspects of proper etiquette" I hear the man say to me with his back turned as I walk into the area of his home he has dedicated to these lessons. "I'm very sorry I did not realize how far these lessons would be in relation to my University" I apologize hating that I've already made a bad impression which has clearly started us off on the wrong foot. 

"Proper planning is also something you must consider to be able to maintain a certain sense of decorum before arriving to your intended destination" he says still with his back to me. "I apologize again Mr. Jeon it won't happen again" I say using what I hope is the proper way he would like to be addressed. "See that it doesn't" he says finally turning around to face me. I nod my head in acknowledgement and he gives me a sour look showing he's displeased with my response. 

"One must verbally respond to properly communicate with one another" he says, placing his hands behind his back and interlocking his fingers while walking towards me and stalking around me like a predator sizing up his prey. "Understood" I respond and once he finally comes back around facing me he looks me up and down one last time before uttering another word. 

"For your next lesson be sure to come in a dress or skirt that sits at the knee as well as stockings and heels of some sort and a blouse of course to pair with the skirt. If one wants to act like a lady, one must dress like a lady" he says and turns away to grab something in the corner of the room. "Noted" I say under my breath already exasperated, "What was that?" he questions looking over his shoulder at me, sorting through a few books to bring over. "Understood Mr. Jeon" I say, trying to play along and follow his rules.

"Seeing as we need to start from the very beginnings of the art of etiquette I need you to read these books by this time next week" he says handing me five very large books weighing my arms down and requiring me to stumble back to regain my balance. "All of them in a week? That's almost a book a day!" I say surprised by the workload I've been given after not even starting the actual lesson yet.

"I was not aware of the fact I would be required to teach you everything from the very start so let's just say we both have a lot of work to do" he says and motions towards a place I can set my purse down along with my five new headaches for this next week.

"Take a seat here please" he now motions to a chair that he has placed in the middle of the room waiting for me to do as he says. I walk up cautiously and take a seat, sitting on it like I normally would, knowing that he's meant to critique how I sit to change it. "Sit up straight, roll your shoulders back" he says taking in my posture at all angles while I follow along with his orders. "Loosen the tension in your back and shoulders" he says placing his hands on my shoulders from behind making me tense up even more from the unexpected contact. 

"You've done the opposite of what I've asked you to" he says and I can hear how fed up with me he continues to be. "You startled me, I didn't realize you were going to do that" I say under my breath but loud enough for him to hear. "One must never mumble or talk back to anyone no matter the circumstances. Especially aimed to or in front of an authority figure" he says and walks back around to face me again. "So you see yourself as an authority figure to me?" I question, curious to see what his answer might be.

"I see myself as someone who deserves your respect and obedience" he says and tilts my chin up with his pointer finger maintaining purposeful eye contact. "And you will treat me as such". 

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[redbatchedcumbermayned]

"I didn’t even know that there was the possibility of a romance option when voicing Heinrix" - Interviewing Chris Tester part 2

We're continuing our interview with Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat's CRPG Rogue Trader. In this part we speak about insights into Heinrix's character, how the process of recording voice lines for a video game works, if Chris would romance Heinrix in game, and interacting with his fans.

Part 1 of the interview

Part 3 of the interview

I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.

F: So, you already talked a bit about Heinrix as a character. What drew you to the character or what hidden depth did you find in the character?

CT: Well, I hope I found some depth to the character. That contrast between principles or values that you seem to be holding onto and lots of unprocessed trauma going on underneath. Sure, that seems interesting, that seems like a really interesting thing to find. Because you can understand, therefore, the appeal of an ideology, which gives you the answers and it tells you what to do. Essentially, it gives you a role, authority, it gives you status, you completely understand the appeal of that. Just like I find voice-over incredibly appealing and exciting: it gives me structure and authority and the illusion that I know what I'm talking about and what I'm doing. 

And then there's the flip side: you could make him heretical in some way, shape or form. And you know, I love, obviously, the fact that he belongs to part of that world which I'm sort of familiar with. Where a lot of the more interesting characters are the ones that have disavowed this God Emperor kind of like status in one way or the other, they tend to have a little bit more going on. They're not two-dimensional villains, not all of them, not all of the time anyway. Whereas on the one hand he's not going full chaos, there was just an interesting tension there to explore. Also, it kind of reminded me a little bit of the Eisenhorn series, which again, it's an Inquisitor that through his pursuit of different things starts to question and use the powers of the warp for his own purposes. A very different character, but still, there are those parallels that I really liked, that fallibility, that vulnerability to a degree, but I wouldn't say too much because I didn't really know how vulnerable or how much of a journey he was going to have in the early stages. I didn't know that until we were recording, I'll be honest. 

And I didn’t even know that there was the possibility of a romance option, until we were like: Oh, these are romancing lines. And I was like, you what now? So, sorry, I appear to be saying some quite forward things, from his point of view anyway, that's slightly taken me aback. They were like: oh yeah, you're romanceable, you can have a romance. I was like, oh, okay, right. I'll just think back to the five hours or so of recording that we've done up to this point and pray that I've made the right choices. So that was a bit of a crazy ride, but thanks to Olga, the writer of my character, she gave really astute directions. She wasn't in all of the sessions, but the majority, especially when there were big plot beats to explain to me what the hell was going on, however, roughly. She was great. And also the technicians at 3B. I was working with a lot of different members of the group technicians slash directors as well. And they were great in terms of giving me not exactly the bare minimum details, but the bare minimum details that I needed in order to be able to make choices quickly, but strongly and relevant to the game. So yeah, it was quite a trip.

F: Thank you. Since you have been trained as a stage actor do you bring a certain physicality to voice acting? If you embody Heinrix, do you puff your chest? Are you rigid?

CT: Definitely. I think there's the reason why rather than having a small booth, I record in a room is, that I can explore those dynamics as much as possible. And the fact that I was able to record standing and very upright and taking that space was vitally important. Obviously, there's the action stuff that really helps when you're actually making fighting noises. That's one thing. But I think in terms of real subtle differences to be able to, as well as mic proximity when he's speaking under his breath and that kind of thing, that's obviously incredibly vital, but even the subtle things of being able to have that big open physicality because he is so often so imperious because he thinks he's absolutely right. That was a vital aspect to explore and just being able to be upright and expressive in that made such a huge difference. 

And also when, without wanting to give too much away, he's in more constricted circumstances, shall we say, trying to do that just purely through the voice means that it all becomes about the sound that you're making as opposed to the truth of the character's journey without wanting to be, again, too much of a cliche, but focusing on that rather than am I making the right gurgling noise?

F: Were you offered any other character to audition for Owlcat? Or if you could, which other character would you like to voice?

CT: I couldn't say any of the other characters. I do play a couple of NPCs randomly. I think before even I had Heinrix. There's some cockney London geezer in there that is immediately disposable. That was me. That was my kind of guaranteed role. I was like, great, fantastic, because I did the audition for Heinrix and then there was quite a few months before it was actually kind of confirmed. I thought the role had gone to somebody else. As with many of these things, you just don't hear back. If you don't hear back, you just assume it's dead and then suddenly it'll come back up or it won't or you'll see another voice actor posting on Instagram going “amazing session” and you slightly die inside and then you move on. 

But in terms of the other characters, I mean, I've met, at least digitally online, the vast majority of the principal companion cast and they're all lovely and amazing and I associate them with their performances. For better or worse, Heinrix is very much my kind of casting and I loved it. Not because he's pretty in a particularly posh kind of way, but that helps. Sure, I'll go with that kind of slightly emotionally constipated. I'm very well cast, very well done, but I think so is everybody else. Throughout the entire game, it's a bit of a who's who, they might not be all household names, but in terms of for myself, the actors that I know in some big parts and some really small parts, the actors that I know in the UK and in the U.S. voice-over scene, so much talent, so that it was just an honour to be included in that really.

F: So now I have to ask you a question from our discord server. Would you romance Heinrix if you were playing a female Rogue Trader? 

CT: I think that would be a bit weird. No, I'll just watch videos of other people romancing him slash me. Is that more or less weird? I mean, I'm 42 years old. I've spent far too much time playing with myself already. So, let's just draw a line under that, but other people are welcome to. That's absolutely fine. My only thing, without wanting to overstate it too much, is that I was very surprised that there was anything around any character that I've been related to but as with so many of the other companions as well, that's a testament to the writing. Credit to the whole Owlcat team in that respect.

F: Would you like to continue working with Owlcat in the future in another capacity?

CT: Oh, God. Yeah. They've not made me sign an NDA, so I can say, not name a thing, but there's DLC for one of their other titles, which I'm going to be in, and that's in a completely different world. There's that thing of once you've had one really positive experience with the developer and the type of games that they create. The ones that are very story focused, that's the type of games that I'm passionate about. I was brought up on these things like the Mass Effect Trilogy. You know, that absolutely iconic kind of stuff, and so to be a part of someone else's experience to facilitate that kind of longer storytelling stuff is exactly what I would be after. They've got a great process, amazing writers and I also think that the games themselves look fantastic. So yeah, I'm a fan of that.

F: So your fan base has certainly expanded since the release of the game. Do you mind having a female fan base now? Have you noticed that there is a bit of a shift because Warhammer 40k for the totally uninitiated looks like a male hobby and unfortunately some part of the male fans are very aggressive against female fans.

CT: Are absolutely ridiculous. Idiots, essentially. Because my relationship to the whole Warhammer 40k thing is like, I played it when I was really young, and then you put away your childish things. I'm saying that in inverted commas, that's kind of ironic or whatever, and then didn't really get back into it until someone gave me a book and I realised that the lore was actually quite good, quite interesting, and then actually really good and really interesting, and I therefore have done some novels for them and a couple of video games as well. 

But to your question, do I mind? No, of course I don't mind. I'm very happily married and well adjusted, so I definitely don't mind as long as it's all respectful, if that makes sense. Surprise, surprise, female fans seem to conduct themselves with that level of respect or if there is a server which is going into crazy, crazy character scenarios and that kind of stuff, no one's sending me a link to that. And even if it is, it's the character, it's not me, and so that's all quite healthy and good. And I think I'm definitely not in a position where I should be censoring any of that kind of thing at all. I think it's all positive and very, very healthy and everybody that I've interacted with has been incredibly respectful. So, I think that's great. 

And I think being able to portray these characters that offer that level of connection is great. We're in a post Baldur's Gate world, I suppose. Not that there weren't other games that did this, but on that scale and everything. I think the value that the games can offer in that. Rogue Trader is hugely valuable and I definitely wouldn't want to censure any of that at all.

F: Yeah, it was nice. I reconnected a lot with people who have this fandom experience again that I had in the Eddie Redmayne fandom more than 10 years ago when it was small, when you have a rather small group of fans and then a very nice person that you're a fan of, and you can interact with.

CT: So people have contacted me via Cameo, for example. And, you know, they've had a certain particular playthrough and then they say, well, I would like you to voice this letter from Heinrix or whatever.

F: That was me.

CT: There have been more than just you is what I'm saying, but sorry, not to say that I'm a whore and I'll just do anything, but you're not the only person who has come to me with that kind of thing. And that's great. That's a pleasure, because it's continuing to tell the story on a wider scale. But also the fact that you can personalise and make it your own. And that's the brilliant thing. 

That's part of the whole appeal of a video game, as opposed to it being a theatre piece or a film or something else is that it was very much your experience, your playthrough. You can have multiple versions of the thing that you kind of like one but you can really structure your own narrative. And that's a fascinating thing. You get to iterate on it yourself. You know, if one stage of that is also being able to call upon the voice actor to facilitate that, I think that's a cool thing, you know, as long as it doesn't get too weird or too whatever, but you know, whatever two consenting adults want to exchange money for or time, great, fine. I think that's less weird than getting an AI to do it personally. I think that level of storytelling is a great thing.

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT - 24 Months

Well, these past couple months have been hell, with a light at the end of the tunnel that I’ve now reached, but still. Anyway, on with the show…

So, before I get into the really gritty stuff, my jaw and teeth were converted pretty early on, as well as my ear bones. The former were a little funky, but honestly nothing really changed there, since I already don’t need to chew things, losing my teeth was no big deal, and for the latter, there was a small blip in my hearing - for a few minutes - but then it came back, honestly better than before. I wasn’t super worried about the hearing loss, particularly after eyes taste and smell, only how long I'd be deaf for, but fortunately, as I said, it really wasn't a problem. I’m pretty sure that my slime has just replaced my inner ear’s function innately, and since hearing is just interpreted vibrations, and slime is pretty good at vibrating. What was and has been nice is the cat ears I made a few months back can now actually function, which took a little getting used to, but my hearing is super good now, if a little overwhelming at times.

Right, on to the less pleasant parts: Remember how in the last update I said that apparently you know when your brain goes, yeah, that’s true, and it’s ‘cause it’s genuinely the most painful, disorienting, and scary thing I have ever experienced. First of all, unlike a lot of other changes, it kinda just goes all at once - I think it’s a survival thing, the brain/core wouldn’t function while being half transformed, and it’d probably kill you if they tried to. Only issue is that this means that your brain basically dissolves over the course of a few hours, which is excruciating, and the weeks leading up to that absolutely suck as well.

The first thing I noticed was the pain - headaches, some of the worst I’ve ever had (which I know I’ve said a lot over the course of this, but I was fortunate before to have very little issues, and turns out transforming your whole body hurts). I tried to take some painkillers to help, but they don’t seem to work any more - not sure if it’s ‘cause my biology is so different now, or ‘cause my body breaks them down too well, but either way they don’t work, so I had to suffer through the pain.

Either on top of or because of the pain, I've had a general sense of disorientation. It started off as just sometimes getting a little turned around in games and the like, but it progressed to getting lost if I tried to go anywhere (which was compounded by some other stuff too). Frankly it's a good thing in the final days before my brain changed that I hurt too much to go anywhere, else I probably would have ended up somewhere entirely unknown at a really vulnerable stage in my transformation.

I also have had some memory issues while things have worked things out. My memory has never been amazing in the first place, but I started to get very forgetful, forgetting appointments, plans, even eating (I'd usually ‘remember’ when I started idly eating random things I had around, which has meant I've lost a few things, but I don't remember what so I'm keep finding things I need to replace). I’m also pretty sure I lost some older memories too, but it’s really hard to tell if that’s from normal forgetting or forgetting ‘cause my brain was becoming mush, it’s kinda scary not knowing. This is also part of what compounded my disorientation - when telling left from right is getting hard, forgetting where you're even meant to go or have come from only makes things worse. Also, try reforming yourself from a puddle when you barely remember what you were before… definitely had some interesting shapes recently. Honestly, it was terrifying, I actually didn't know if I'd ever be able to remember things again (obviously I can, but I didn't know that at the time, and my memory of that period are sketchy at best)

Of course, the pain I mentioned earlier made it hard to focus on things, but even beyond that my ability to focus seemed to vanish. I have been so easily distracted over the past couple of months. Genuinely a glint of light or something could completely draw my attention from whatever I was doing, and then I'd usually completely forget what I was doing, get distracted by something else and wonder off. I apparently walked off in the middle of so many games and videos and just any activity I was doing. Frankly it's a miracle that I have any notes, or remember enough to actually write this entry, I kinda spent most of this last month piecing together what I do remember and have notes of (the notes are not the most legible, worse than my normal handwriting which is awful anyways (there's a reason I type these updates)). 

On top of all this, I also had nightmares and hallucinations. The former sucked, but honestly asides from waking up in some weird shapes in attempts to either fight or defend myself from whatever was jumping me in the nightmare (assuming it was a monster one) they were over once I woke up. The hallucinations were worse, since they could appear at any time, and oh boy do they seem real. Sometimes they were small things, noises, or a shape in my periphery. Other times they were blurry, intimidating figures in the distance. And of course with my inability to focus on things, these hallucinations would only be another thing to distract my addled brain. The worst though, was waking up from a nightmare, a puddle unable to reform, and the nightmare continuing as a hallucination in the real world. That'd usually shake me up for a day - and annoyingly my memory issues didn't really seem to extend to them. I'm still working out what was real and fake from that time, and it has not been easy, or fun. My ‘brain’ feels like goddamn soup whenever I think about that time. 

On top of everything else, sometimes I'd faint. Sometimes due to pain, other times (particularly towards the end of the transformation) I'd just keel over, only to wake up in a puddle of myself. It was really disconcerting and scary… kinda felt like my brain was just cutting out, and I was a little scared it might not cut back in at some point… and of course that’s one of the things I remember clearly, the fear and worry of that - very clear that the ‘remember bad shit’ survival instinct was and still is functioning, as annoying as that is.

Since I don't particularly want to linger on those thoughts more than I already have, an interesting thing to note is that even through all of this, my actual mental faculties didn't diminish - while I was forgetful and distracted, if I managed to make myself, I found myself just as capable as before. I partially did this to help assure myself I wasn't losing myself, but also because, let's be honest, slimes aren't known for being the brightest bunch, and I've been a little worried this whole time that I'd get dumber or something. The pamphlet I was given didn't really say anything about this happening, but I know from trans hrt that the information your given doesn't always include every possible effect (I know it certainly failed to mention the attention issues during the most recent stage, and the blindness from before) 

But, despite last month being basically the worst month of my life, I have survived, albeit a little scrambled, and I'm slowly putting everything back together. And of course, now, there's nothing human left in me! I'm all slime!!! (It makes me so unbelievably happy to be able to say that now).

Interestingly, unlike everything else, my brain hasn't fully gone, instead I ended up with what I quickly realised is a slime core! For those unfamiliar, slimes can have a core, which is essentially like their brain/major organ inside them, usually looking like a small coloured sphere. While slimes are usually pretty hard to damage permanently, damage done to a slimes core can be very debilitating, like heart, brain, or lung damage for humans and stuff. 

I actually think I had a kind of proto-core before hand, but didn't notice it, and I think it came around about when my digestive system was changed, since I think my core manages matter-to-slime conversion (I'm guessing this ‘cause that's improved since my core has now fully formed). I guess I didn’t spy it before ‘cause it was too small or something?

On that note, my core is/looks like, interestingly, a kind of verdant green gem. It mostly just seems to float inside of my goo, although I can move it around my body wherever I like, but I tend to keep it either right in the middle of my torso, or in the middle of my chest (at least in human form). Both areas have a decent amount of goo protecting my core, and it looks neat to have it there. 

It does actually look really pretty, especially when taken outside of my body (don't worry, it can be taken out of my body, so long as it remains in contact with my goo I'm completely fine), and yeah, just kinda looks like a funky green stone/gem. I am curious as to why it's green, and I'm kinda hoping it's gonna boost the efficiency of my photosynthesis, and that it's green ‘cause of chlorophyll, but I don't honestly know yet, need some nice sunny days to properly test it out. 

I did find out that if my core does become separated from my goo, I can just reform another body from stored goo around the core, leaving the old body to fall (but I can just reabsorb it afterwards to maintain mass). Oh, and before anyone worries that I was being reckless, I made sure to check that I wouldn't die before I tested anything.

On the note of stored goo, it seems like excess goo/matter is stored in the core, like fat in humans. I'm not sure what or if there's a limit or what happens if I try to eat too much, but as far as I've gotten for now, it seems to be fine. I have noticed that I actually seem lighter now, I still seem to weigh about as much as I look like I should (maybe slightly over) and as such it changes if I make myself grow bigger, but not really if I eat things. I'm not entirely sure quite what's going on there, as that seems like some physics defying shit, but it's actually super useful, means I can store as much mass as I'd like and not break the sofa when I sit down. 

So asides from all of those experiences and changes, I've found a couple other things that have sprung up from these changes. Firstly, I've found that my body feels much more coherent, I'm very much now one gelatinous entity, rather than bits of one and bits of another. Movement feels much more fluid now, especially outside of a humanoid form (not that I've gotten worse at being humanoid, just better at everything else) and I honestly find myself kind of hot swapping between slime ball and slime girl as I need/feel like it. Also navigating crowds is super easy now, just kinda slipping and moving between any gaps (I could kinda do this before, but again, now it feels so second nature). On top of this, my multitasking seems to have improved. I still can’t say one thing while writing another, but I've gotten better at physical multitasking; I struggle less coordinating my ‘hands’ when I try playing the piano for example (I still can't play it, but I've got more of the coordination for it). Add in that I can very easily have several limbs/pseudopods/whatever you want to call them at once (which is honestly why I think my multitasking has improved, it's to facilitate control of the numerous structures I can now produce) and it’s become very easy to manage multiple, physical, tasks at once. 

One thing I have noticed myself doing, almost subconsciously (and honestly, this might've started a little before now, but I'll talk about it here, since I've really noticed it now), I'll just adjust my body however I need in the moment. Now, this may sound kind of obvious, but it's a little funky (but mostly neat) to just suddenly grow an extra limb, or pseudopod to hold or grab something quickly, or to just adjust my mass to better balance or manage something. Again, very neat, but a little funky to realise when I didn't consciously think about it. 

Relatedly, shaping has become easier, not sure if that's due to practise, or having a more compatible neurological centre, but I seem to be able to shape myself quicker, and I seem to have gained a better memory for shape too, the latter is definitely due to recent changes, or at least, definitely due to the treatment.

I've  also still been working on my acid control, which feels like it's gotten easier, but again I can't say whether that's from practice or the recent changes, but I can at least somewhat reliably keep an area of my body acid free now for a bit.

Unrelated to the treatment, but I'm actually much shorter now, at least in my humanoid form, clocking in at around 4’4”(slime ball form has remained the same size, at around 30cm tall). I always liked the idea of being really small, and I can now, and it's not like it really offers any disadvantages, since I can just reach tendrils up to grab things from high up (with eyes/vision so I can see what I'm doing), plus it means I have more spare slime to spend on other, more fun things than just being tall. This all being said, the idea of using all my slime to become really big also has its appeals, but it's less practical for day to day life. 

To touch on one final thing, I definitely don't feel human anymore. I'm a slime, through and through, humanity is just a memory. I've mentioned before feeling more and more detached from humanity (if I ever felt truly attached) as this process has gone on, but now that I'm seemingly done, I don't feel human at all. Interestingly, I find this aspect has been remarkably similar to gender transition, with the feeling of being a guy slowly fading away until it seemed alien to think of myself as one, which kinda feels like where I'm at at the moment. I'll likely catch myself still including myself in humanity from time to time for a while, but I can safely say I'm a slime, and I am so happy I can now. So that’s what my life has been for the last couple of months, and while parts sucked - like, really sucked - the end result is so unbelievably worth it. While this feels like the end of slime hrt, I do have an appointment planned with the doc to talk about my next step and hopefully get myself onto shapeshifter hrt, so my next update will probably be about that. See y’all then!

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Tag list below cut (lmk if you want to be added)

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[luvrsbian]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄

A/N: she's finally here!!! this was initially supposed to be a one shot but has kinda turned into a draft up of a pretty plotless, sweet, fluffy mini series. it follows canon for the most part minus eddies death ofc but because im bad with canon lore and science shit, its not heavily mentioned (some minor canon lore was changed but it's not super important.) this is a fem!reader, no use of y/n, set in 1992, 4k words, and i've kept reader pretty vague for inclusivity minus some background lore. this series is not 18+ (yet) but my page is, so please do not follow if you are a minor. thank you sweet baby mona @enam3l for beta-reading for me (ily)

MASTERLIST ✿ PART TWO

Eddie Munson liked his life. He liked his friends, even if a lot of them have now dispersed across the continental United States for school, jobs, general life (minus Robin who has somehow managed to make her way to Australia doing God knows what.) He liked his home, a house on the edge of town – slightly bigger than the old trailer – which he still shared with his uncle. He liked his style and hobbies and taste in music and movies that haven’t really changed much in the last 5 years since his final senior year. 

He really liked his job. 

Which felt odd for him to admit to himself.  It wasn’t anything like what he thought he would be doing. A younger Eddie Munson would imagine himself traveling city to city, adored by fans, living creatively and free spirited.  

But a middle school janitorial gig kept him young. One could argue 26 wasn't even that old, however, compared to his friends (who he'd already been older than) with their careers, relationships and growing families, he felt like a lonely old man. So, yeah, the awkward, funny, and extremely honest pre-teens made him feel young.  

Initially he thought the job would be lonely. It’s a small town with even smaller schools. Besides him, there was only one other night janitor that he alternated weekend cleans with and only really ran into during day-to-night shift changes. Ron was nice enough, older than Wayne, with a far higher patience for children. Unsurprisingly, behaviours from high school died hard and the teachers and administrative staff all kept to their own little cliques. Resulting in Eddie keeping to himself, rarely speaking outside of his custodian duties or the occasional faculty meeting. 

He didn’t even think he’d interact with the students aside from cleaning the odd vomit or getting stuck balls out of the gymnasium rafters. He unintentionally found himself yet again the outcasted mother goose to a small hoard of pre-teen metal heads when their unofficial leader, Matty Sherman, caught site of the various posters Ed keeps hung up on his office (custodial closet) door. The seventh grader quickly forcing himself under Eddies wings and refusing to budge. Matty was a good kid. Reminded Eddie a lot of himself at that age. He was loud, abrasive, and way too confident for such a gangly frame in ill-fitting clothes. Matty had hair though which 13-year-old Eddie couldn’t relate to. 

There was also Ms. Virginia Wagner. The eccentric, nurse who has been working at Hawkins Middle since Eddie was attending. Maybe even before that, he wasn’t quite sure and whenever he asked anything close to finding out her age, she quickly shut him down. She was sweet. She was funny. She was also a mean old hag sometimes, but God did Eddie love that about her. If he was just 20 - or more realistically 40 - years older and wasn’t almost certain she swings the other way, he’d shoot his shot.  

The Summer season was extremely uneventful for Eddie. Due to the kids being out of school, his hours were cut in more than half with only the yearly repairs and deep cleaning needing to be done. He went into work about 3 days a week, spending the extra free time to do some manual labour gigs here and there around town. When he wasn’t working, he was hidden away at home watching movies, listening to music, trying to plan out ongoing and future campaigns for Hellfire meetings that have begun to be fewer and far between now that everyone has dispersed. On some rare occasions when he didn’t feel like a complete shell of a person and was able to leave the house to socialize outside of life obligations, he met up with the few friends that remained in the Hawkins area (which at this point in time was really only Steve Harrington and Gareth Emerson.) 

It was now the Monday of the week before students would return back to these fluorescent lit halls. That meant all other faculty were now gracing the school to prepare for the year ahead. Organizing and prepping and finalizing lesson plans and class rosters.  

Eddie had a slight pep in his step as he walked through the halls, scuffed up sneakers squeaking on the shiny, extra polished tiles. He whistled a silent tune that clashed with the jingles of his keys that he swung around his middle finger. Getting to the janitors closet to put on his navy coverall and put his hair into a low bun. He zips up the stiff material, covering the self-altered muscle tank top that had the logo for some local band down in Indianapolis he saw a few years back before things went to shit. A cracked and stained mirror hanging up over his work sink being used to make sure his hair looked casually messy in the bun. With a final once over, he hooks his keys to the belt loop of his coveralls and preps for the day's work. A glance at his wristwatch, the one that has somehow survived hell and back just like him, reads 7:58. Just 4 hours and 2 minutes until lunch.  

He couldn’t wait. 

Eddie used those 4 hours and 2 minutes to check each stall in all bathrooms were fully stocked with toilet paper and the likes, clean the actual toilets themselves, and make sure the water was running properly in every sink. Once that was taken care of, he began on his biggest task of the week of dragging desks and chairs out of the back storage building to be put into classrooms. Sheryl from the administrative team having left the small packet of papers indicating how many seats each room would need for the coming year.  

He could move the chairs in stacks at a time but could only really stack two - maybe three if he was careful - desks on his hand truck before it became a safety problem. Once moved into the main building, he had to wipe them down, tighten any loose screws that could make them wobble, and make sure they were still in usable condition. Eddie had completed almost 3 of the 32 classrooms before lunch finally rolled around.  

He grabbed his lunch sack from the custodial closet and whistled on his merry way to the nurse's office. He’s been eating lunch with Virginia for as long as he can remember. Of course, there was those 5 years of High School and then the year of recovery following the events of his second senior year, and the summer breaks of course, but besides all those he’s been eating with her for a good 7 years.  

This ritual beginning in his 6th grade, the first year he moved in with Wayne, all sad eyed and past aside due to events outside of his control. Kids he had grown up with suddenly not wanting anything to do with him. He wouldn’t really make any friends again until 7th grade, and his first band of misfits was created, Corroded Coffin. 6th Grade was the worst year of his life until 1986 and now it’s about tied.  

Sadly, in middle school who you ate a meal with or gave the time of day too was so integral into maintaining the hierarchal balance of the ecosystem. It was bullshit. With everything that happened that lead to his father going to jail and him burdening his uncle, the kids of Hawkins middle school decided Eddie wasn’t worth risking their own reputations. He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened, his brain kicking the memory out at some point to make room for more important stuff like D&D lore. But he does remember he went from eating lunch in the bathroom to eating it in Nurse Wagner’s office.  

Even after being integrated back into the Middle school social circle, he couldn’t just leave her to eat lunch by herself. She needed him with his alternative music education and retelling of the fantasy books he’d been reading lately and his strong headedness that could keep up with her dry and sarcastic quips many interpreted as rudeness. Although Eddie would still refuse to admit it, in actuality he probably needed her more than she needed him. 

He doesn’t knock, just moseys his tall frame into the nurse's office, wide dimpled smile on his lips as he hears rummaging coming from the actual office area that was blocked off by a wall. He looks at the two plastic-y beds covered in paper sheets, inhaling that antiseptic smell that can only seem to be found in medical settings. No fluorescent lights were on, only natural light being let it from the two big windows.  

There are curtains on them now which surprises him. Floral pinks and yellows with lace on the edge that really fit the grandma vibes Virginia has but refused to acknowledge. The windows all have blinds, but curtains were deemed a non-necessary commodity by the school board budgeting team, meaning if you wanted curtains, you’re gonna have to fork money out of pocket for them. Eddie had asked Virginia about it once, commenting about how it would help spruce up the place. Make it look a little less sterile. She told him to go to hell, that she’s a nurse not rich. Any out-of-pocket money she spent on work only going towards things that actually matter, like the allergen friendly laundry detergent and the nicer, name brand candy for the candy bowl. 

Putting his lunch on the side table of the first bed, he lays down in a relaxed position. Hands behind his head, legs crossed, eyes closed, he lets out a relaxed sigh. 

“Virginia, dear, I really love what you’ve done with the place,” he calls out to her, hearing the close of the filing cabinet and footsteps soon following, “feels all homey now, dontcha think.” 

The footsteps stop. 

“I'm glad you like them. You feelin’ comfy there?” 

That was most definitely not Virginia Wagners voice. 

Eddie jolts up, eyes wide and cheeks red. He’s not one to get embarrassed easily but since recent events he’s been a bit more reserved in how comfortable he gets around strangers. And you were most definitely a stranger. A pretty stranger. A very pretty stranger in a teddy bear patterned scrub top and an oversized cardigan with embroidered sunflowers. You’re a disorienting mess of patterns and colors but you’re also, like, really pretty and Eddie isn’t sure how to go about this. 

“You’re not Virginia,” is all he can get his voice to come out with. 

“I’m not Virginia.” You give a chuckle. A positive response, Eddie thinks. 

“Where’s Virginia?” 

Eddie is now standing away from the bed and closer to the door, ready to run from the situation if needed (something he’s learned to embrace in the last few years.) You give him a friendly smile, hands in your cardigan pockets, the sleeves bunched up. You look cozy.  

“Florida. She’ll be in the Caribbean by the end of the month,” you supply. He can tell your fingers are fidgeting in your pockets. His hands are fidgeting at his waist, pinching at the material of his coveralls.  

“Why?” 

You shrug your shoulders, “Retirement.” 

“Oh,” Eddie sighs, eyes breaking contact with yours for the first time since standing, shifting to look at your white - almost pristine - sneakers on the tile floor her spent all summer mopping and waxing and removing scuff marks from. “That sucks.” 

You snort. Teeth biting your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him further during this awkwardly endearing meeting. Your own eyes looking him over now that he isn’t completely focused on you. He’s cute. His cheeks stained your favourite shade of pink once he realized you weren’t the now retired nurse he had been so fond of. Hands covered in jewlery. His inability to stay still so natural it makes you think he doesn’t even realize he’s been shifting his body weight back and forth from his toes to his heels this whole time. Tall, lean, maybe with some extra fluff hidden under the baggy attire. He’s got some shadow of hair on his cheeks. And if you weren’t a civil person and he wasn’t a stranger, you’d be begging to kiss at the column of his throat. 

Your gaze moves to look around the waiting part of the office to avoid thinking even more things about this guy. A brown paper bag chicken scratched with the words ‘ED LUNCH’ catches your eye. Before you have a chance to speak yourself, he starts his interrogation again. 

“Who are you?” 

Your attention cuts back to him quickly. With a smile that shows all your teeth and a hand leaving your pocket, held out for him to shake, you give your full name. 

He takes it with his own reserved smile. His hands and rings are warm, but they still tingle your skin from the unfamiliarity of the metal. You enjoy it you think. Before he can introduce himself, you beat him to the punch. 

“You must be Edward, right?” 

He grimaces, “Just Eddie,” your handshake falls. His hand back to his hip and your hand back into your pocket, “Just Eddie is fine. More than fine, actually. Preferred, really.” 

Another chuckle from you. Eddie knows he’s funny when he wants to be but if it’s this easy to make you laugh, he doesn’t ever want to stop. 

“Well, just Eddie,” you smirk at his eye roll, “you can join me for lunch if you’d like. I feel like my presence may have ruined your initial plans,” you let out a huff of a laugh and gesture to the lunch sack by the window. He grimaces again at your wording and shakes his head. 

“It didn’t ruin any plans just was shocking ‘sall,” his hand moves from his hip to rub at his slightly scruffy chin, pretty brown eyes back on yours, “but um, yeah. Yes, I’d love- like to join you for lunch.” 

You smile. He smiles back. 

Eddie has sat in this chair, in this office, and eaten his lunch for years. Today it feels awkward and unfamiliar.  

It might have something to do with you sitting where Virginia used to sit. Same chair, same desk, same office, but completely different. Virginia didn’t decorate her space, leaving it functional and impersonal, if people wanted to know about her life they could ask her. She wasn’t going to flaunt it.  

You were very different. An orange, gaudy looking vase filled with fake flowers. A matching candy bowl with various sugary, little treats. A picture frame of you and what he could only assume was your family based on the similar features shared between each person. A decorated Coke can with the top cut off and trimmed with glued on lace and covered in holographic stickers of vibrant cartoon animals, sparse enough to still see the iconic red drink logo, was now holding an assortment of colorful gel pens.  

Even the chair wasn’t safe from your interior decorating, a purple knitted blanket folded over the top of the rolling seat. The seat itself now adorning a red, white, and black cushion of an ugly faced bulldog with a spiked color and cap with the letter G, the words ‘GEORGIA BULLDOGS’ splayed above him. A sports team he assumed.  

The conversation hadn’t started back up since the introduction in the sick room. Both of you taking your respective seats in the office area, opening your lunch bags and digging in.  

Eddie being a creature of habit brought his usual bag of pretzels, a can of Pepsi, and a sandwich made of whatever he could find in the kitchen. Today it was two slices of whole wheat, mayo, lettuce, the last piece of deli ham, and shredded cheese.  

Your own lunch seemed much more put together. For starters, you had an actual lunchbox, a bulky and vibrant plastic thing with Snoopy sleeping on his dog house on the front. Inside, there was your own ziploc bag of green grapes, a can of Coke, and a sandwich cut into triangles. White bread, crunchy peanut butter, and grape jelly. A Little Debbies Swiss Rolls pack sitting on the corner of your desk for dessert. 

He’s mid chew on the final bite of his sandwich, half his Pepsi left, his pretzels being the first thing devoured, when you speak up. Your own sandwich having on triangle section left, grapes gone, and Coke untouched. 

“Have you always lived in Hawkins?” 

You’re wiping your mouth with a folded paper towel, curious eyes focused on him. You’re very good at that, he’s realized. Eye contact. Focusing on your center of attention. Eddie has never been good at it, having to remind himself to look at the person talking to him. It’s polite, Wayne would say, shows people you’re listening and interested in what they have to say. Eddie gets so worked up in remembering to seem focused, he loses it and doesn’t hear what’s being said. He hasn’t had that problem with you so far. He thinks he could look at and listen to you all day if you let him. 

“Born and bred,” he swallowed his bite and shrugs his shoulders, rubbing his hands together to get the crumbs off, “you’re not though, are you. Feel like I’d remember you,” he raises an eyebrow. Feeling a little more confident in himself, especially with the obvious signs of you not being a local, and gives a playful smirk. 

“You got me,” you hold your hands up in mock surrender, moving your arms back to rest your elbows on the edge of the desk, “I’m from Georgia.” 

Eddie nods, the seat cushion making sense now. It’s your home team for… sports. A sport. Probably football. Eddie mentally pats himself on the back for guessing it was a sports team. Good on him for knowing sports. (Eddie doesn’t know sports.) 

“So,” Eddie lulls, small talk never being his forte. Much more interested in getting into the nitty gritty of conversation when interested in someone but he doesn’t know you yet. He needs to find something to relate with you on and he can’t do that with tidbits he may know from growing up in town like he could other people his age or older here. “You’re like a southern chick,” it was your turn to grimace.  

“You’re really bad at this,” you snort and shake your head, finishing up the last of your own sandwich. Tidying up your desk, throwing away the ziploc bag and sandwich wrapping and paper towels. Opening the coke can and moving the swiss rolls pack to in front of you, looking back to Eddie. With a tilt of your head and saccharine grin you ask, “Splitsies?” 

He nods at the opportunity to get a sweet little treat before addressing your initial comment, “Small talk requires talking and I just don’t really do that anymore with people who don’t already know me or just have a preconceived idea of who I am,” he shrugs his shoulders again, voice softer, slight regret in being too real. Eyes watching your fingers open the package, folding another paper towel (which he has now realized are coming from a roll kept in the lowest drawer of your desk), and setting one of the processed roll cakes on the indented paper before placing it in front of Eddie’s seated and slouched body. “Thank you,” He looks back up to you and you’re already looking at him. 

“Virginia told me a lot about you,” you smirk, lifting your own cake to take a bite. Your eyes not leaving his except for split a second to give an appreciative glance and hum to the cream filled ‘pastry.’  

“We’ve been corresponding for months,” you snicker at your own use of the word, making you feel like some sort of 18th century countess or captain, rather than a young nurse taking over the position of an older nurse.  

He looks panicked at this reveal. Which is cute considering he had a bit of white cream on his upper lip. Although he looked so pretty when his brow furrowed, it was clear he was frightened so you were quick to reassure him. 

“All good things, of course. I think she’s just worried about you. It’s cute, really, just really cute.” Another kind smile on your lips and your hand holding out the paper towel - his now eaten roll was sat on - as hint for him to clean his mouth off. 

Eddie knew Virgina wasn’t one to gossip but the prospect of a rare new person in town he’s actually interested in, being privy to all his shit-uations without him telling them himself, scared him. But Virginia did love to meddle and that may be worse. She was a big supporter of Eddie needing friends his own age.  

Letting out a sigh of relief that his tragic history had yet to be exposed, Eddie returned your smile with his own half one. You reach into your desk again, pulling out a letter instead of paper towels this time. ‘Edward’ scrawled in a familiar, loopy handwriting with blue ink on the white envelope caught his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion and intrigue.  

You hold it out for him to take like it was something precious, “This is for you.” From Virginia, is unspoken but recognized between the both of you. Who else would it have been from. Eddie flushing as he realized, Virginia never told him about you. Virginia never even told Eddie she’d be leaving. They didn’t speak much, or really at all, during the summer unless they happened to run into each other outside of these brick walls.  

Callused finger pads grazed your palm when he took the letter from you, he kept his eyes focused on examining the letter. A sad smile on his lips appreciating the loops of the E and W and curves of the D’s. Realistically he knew Virginia probably wasn’t gonna be gone from Hawkins forever, she had roots here. A son. That’s son kid or maybe kids now, he wasn’t sure, hadn’t checked in on Rick since he got out of jail in ‘88. But it still hurt that she was gone, without a word, and was happy enough to talk to her replacement about him but not to him about her. You. 

“I’m gonna read this later,” he mumbles and puts the offending but appreciated letter in his deep pocket. A quick glance at his watch read it’s been about an hour since making his way into the nurses office, lunch was over. He threw his trash out in the bin by your desk and gave you a friendly smile, standing from the seat in front of your desk. 

“Maybe we could do this again sometime,” eyes shifting around the office again, not really taking things in, just needing to not get trapped back into your gaze. “Ya know, with my lunches free now and everything,” he humorlessly chuckles. 

“Eddie,” you spoke softer than you had before, a more sympathetic smile on your lips, “I’d really like that.” 

He looks at you now. You have really shiny eyes. What a weird observation, Eddie thinks, but it’s true. With a quick wave of his hand before retreating them back into his pocket, fingers playing with the paper edges of Virginias letter. He begins his trek out the door.  

“Hey, next time though,” he stumbles in a spin to walk backwards while speaking, “We’ll speak more about you than about me. Feel’s like you know too much about me,” he huffs with a smug smile before spinning back to look forward. “See ya, Peach.” 

Your sweet laughter follows him out into the hall. You call out, “See ya, Eddie,” to his retreating back, watching the door long after he’s left.  

“Peach,” you snort and shake your head, teeth tugging on your bottom lip to stop from smiling too wide. 

the clean up crew (taglist): @avobabe87 @bakugouswh0r3

comment or ask to be added to the clean up crew!

[mxrvelouss]

The Scene at the Mall (pt 2) | Mike Schmidt x Reader

warning: brief mentions of a toxic relationship and harrassment, fluff

note: be sure to read pt 1 if you haven't already! :)

also! there is a hunger games reference, see if you can spot it! ;)

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Your gentle laugh rings through Mike's ears, causing him to look at you with a wide smile. The two of you walk through the mall, hands intertwined, staring into each others' adoring eyes.

"I love my necklace," you say, softly touching the shiny piece of jewelry that sat on your chest.

"You picked it out," Mike laughs.

"Yeah, but you paid," you retort, giggling. The two of you continued to smile at each other. Oh, how you wished you could stay in this moment forever.

******

Ever since he potentially saved your life at the very same mall about a year ago, you made it a point to go there every time after work, since it was just right down the street from the restauraunt you waitressed at. And every single time, there he was, patrolling the place as a security guard.

He sure works a lot, you remember thinking to yourself. It wasn't until a few months after you met that you found out the reason for that was so he could take care of his little sister, Abby. "I'd do anything for her," he told you one night as he walked you out to your car after his shift was over. "Even if it means working a thousand hours a week- as long as it means a better life for her, I would do absolutely anything."

And now here you were, holding hands with this perfect guy. You two had offically been a couple for two and a half months now; and you had never been happier. Abby loved you, and you would help her and Mike at every possible chance. For once, the both of you were off work today, and Abby was at school- so the two of you decided to go to the mall after having breakfast at his house.

"Aren't you sick of that place?" you teased as you got into the passenger seat of his car.

"Yeah, but I want to buy you a necklace," he said, blushing. "I've been saving up."

"Mike!" you exclaim. "No. You know you don't have to get me-"

He reached over and softly put his index finger on your lip, cutting you off. "Shhh. I've made up my mind."

You sit back, sighing in mock defeat. "Alright, you win," you giggle.

Once the two of you got to the mall and went to the jewelry store, a beautiful, silver necklace with a heart at the end caught your eye. When you saw the price, however, you didn't want to ask- but it was too late. Mike already saw the way your eyes lit up, and he got a worker to get it out of the glass case before you could even react.

Mike looked over at you as the worker handed him the jewelry. "Don't feel bad. I promise this is what I want for you. Okay?"

You nodded, and he started to bring the necklace up to your neck. "May I?"

He went behind you, gently bringing the necklace over your shoulders and clasping it around your neck. The feel of his fingers against your skin made you shiver.

"There," he said, turning you around to look at the necklace.

"Mike Schmidt, you're better at putting on necklaces than me!" you laughedd.

"Well," he grinned. "I've had some practice with Abby. My mom has a few necklaces that she likes to wear sometimes." He looked down and started to shuffle his feet.

You put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," you said softly. You take his hands, lean in, and give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Once Mike paid, the two of you walked out, hand in hand, and started to stroll down the area.

"It's definitely a lot easier to enjoy the mall when you don't have to work," Mike says.

Your gentle laugh rings through Mike's ears, causing him to look at you with a wide smile. The two of you walk through the mall, hands intertwined, staring into each others' adoring eyes.

"I love my necklace," you say, softly touching the shiny piece of jewelry that sat on your chest.

"But you picked it out," Mike laughs.

"Yeah, but you paid," you retort, giggling. The two of you continued to smile at each other. Oh, how you wished you could stay in this moment forever.

But all good things must come to an end, because at that moment, a voice from behind catches your attention, immediately sending chills down your spine.

"Well, well, y/n. Nice to see that you moved on."

You whip around, letting go of Mike's hand. The man (now in front of you) continues.

"It's been, what, two years since the breakup?" he sneers. "You won't be able to forget me, no matter how hard you try, y/n." Everything in you just wanted to run as far away from him as possible. This was Danny, your ex-boyfriend from high school. What started as a typical high school romance turned into a controlling, toxic relationship. You felt your cheeks turn red as Mike protectively inched closer to you. You could feel his body starting to tense up.

"Do you know him?" he asks, his voice low.

"'Course she does," Danny says. "We have a lot of...history. Don't we, y/n?" He looks down at you, a twisted smile spreading across his face.

"Why are you acting like such a creep?!" you burst out. "Leave us alone." You couldn't deal with this, not now, not ever. Things were so perfect with Mike, and now you were scared that, somehow, in some way, Danny would convince Mike that you weren't good enough for him.

Just like he convinced you you'd never fall in love again.

Suddenly Danny's eyes start to travel down your face, your neck, and then lands on your chest, where the necklace lays. You feel sick.

"Ah, so did Lover Boy over here buy you this?" Danny suddenly stretches out his arm and grabs hold of your necklace.

"What the-?!" Mike screams, shoving Danny away and grabbing hold of your hand. He places himself in front of you and Danny, who is smiling, as if he's amused by the whole situation.

"Don't you ever touch me again," you say, your voice trembling. Mike looks at you, concerned, and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before he lets go. He walks toward Danny, inches away from his face.

"Get out of here," Mike says, his voice dangerously low. "And don't ever come near y/n again."

"Or what, Lover Boy?" Danny sneers again.

"Or I'll call the authorities and have you arrested for assault." Mike reaches into his pocket and pulls out an ID which says he's a mall security guard. "Unless you want me to do so right now? I do happen to know the head of security here..."

You smile. Go, Mike! you cheer in your head.

Danny's arrogant smile fades. He looks at you one more time. "It won't last," he says. "Soon you'll be running back to me."

"Get. Out." Mike growls. And finally, Danny turns and walks away.

Mike turns to you, grabbing hold of your hands. You start to talk. "I'm so, so sorry-"

"Hey, hey, hey, you don't have to apologize for anything," Mike says, gently placing his palm on your cheek and brushing a strand of hair out of your face. He pulls you into a hug, and you happily accept it, letting the warmth of his strong body spread over you.

"I guess you can see why that relationship didn't work out," you say into his shoulder with a weak laugh.

"Maybe you should stop going to malls," Mike jokes back as he pulls away from the embrace and looks at you with loving eyes. You chuckle, looking back into them.

"This will last," he says confidently, his hands on your shoulders.

"I know," you say with a soft smile. "And this will prove it."

You wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him forward, and softly press your lips against his. He kisses back with such love and gentleness that you just want to explode with emotion. He brings his hands through your hair and then pulls back, his hands now cupping your face.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too, Mike."

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 19. open up

chapter tags/warnings: dad! toji. angsty! megumi. strong language. classism. infidelity. manipulative undertones. naoya sucks ass.

word count: 3.6k

notes: thank you for waiting for this update! i was taking exams for some work-related licenses and started my big girl recently. i've also added more chapters to this series because i underestimated when i first planned out the fic. likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. enjoy! xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“Can...we talk?” 

At first, Toji blinked.  

Naturally, he wasn’t sure how to react to such a situation: his client, who he had assumed avoided him for weeks, now standing at his apartment door? This was new.

He didn’t quite understand how or why you ended up here at this hour, but he forced a worried smile. “Yeah, of course, we can talk.”  

When you first tried to speak, your voice only came out as a hoarse croak. So you had to clear your throat, and you forced words to come out again. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to eke out.�� 

“Sorry?” Toji raised a brow in surprise. “For what?”  

Hesitating, you bit gently at your inner cheek. “If I tell you, can you please promise me you won’t get mad? Or judge me? I’m just...looking for someone to talk to, and I really, really need you to promise me.” 

In hindsight, that was a stupid question because you both knew that listening was his job, his profession, his field of expertise. Even with the minimal information Toji had gathered in these few seconds, he probably began piecing together your story on his own already. He was good like that—that was what made him your therapist, so there was no need to sugarcoat anything when he already read right through you. 

Still, Toji eased you with a sturdy nod. “Sure. I promise.” 

You didn’t even know where to start in this apology, frankly. You were sorry for doubting him, sorry for ignoring all the red flags he had pointed out about your husband Naoya Zenin. In the end, you were sorry for being so fucking stupid.  

The first time Toji had warned you about Naoya, you should have listened. Toji was the expert here, so how blind could you have been? There was nothing like the crushing realization when you realized for yourself that winning your husband back was nothing more than a pipe dream.  

Far before marrying you, Naoya had long loved someone else. Sure, ‘love’ may be a strong word, but why else would Naoya never want to be home? He could hardly find interest in you and became revolted when looking your way. He must have felt so wrong, so immoral, when cheating on his side-girlfriend for his wife.  

The way Naoya had spoken to you tonight just rubbed salt into the wound. Just shut up. Know your boundaries. Because you were just, in his words, a fucking ornament.  

His mistress sure wasn’t, though, and anyone could place the winning bet that he had gone off to spend the night with her.  

Why were you not enough? 

Was it because she was pretty and you were ugly? That she was smart and you were dumb? That she was funny and you were dull? Just...why? What was the reason? 

And, through thick swallows and blinked-back tears, you told Toji all of that.  

In one gusto, you have once again dumped all your troubles upon his shoulders. A horrible person, that was what you were—and knowing this, your gaze stayed low.  

From your rambling onslaught, Toji must be processing a lot but gave away no emotional indication. From his years at work, he probably had heard it all. 

You waited for Toji to retort with a pompous ‘I told you so!’ or burst into a disdainful laugh—that was how Naoya would have responded. But those reactions never came.  

On the contrary, Toji tapped his chest. “Come here.”  

You frowned over at him, brushing a stray tear from your chin. “What?” 

“Just get over here.”  

When you still wavered with reluctance, Toji pulled you tight against him—one hand firmly pressed against your lower back as the other guided your face to nestle by his shoulder.  

Not expecting this, you were initially stiff and awkward in his arms. Toji’s chest was hard and muscled rather than comfortable, chiseled from his frequent strength training sessions at the gym. But when he began to rub slow circles at your waist with one hand, the other running up and down your back in gentle strokes, something about these little gestures let all your emotions go. 

Slowly, you brought your arms up to wrap around him, hugging him in response. He was warm, his body like a furnace that heated your skin. You curled your hands into tight fists, grabbing the fabric of his T-shirt along with your hold.  

Then, like floodgates bursting, you melted into Toji with a sob.  

“What have I done wrong?” you wailed. “Why can’t I do anything right? What do I even do from here?” 

Toji listened silently as you continued to bawl, releasing all your anger and pain from the terrible weeks that you had endured. He squeezed you the tightest when you sobbed the loudest, comforting you with his ‘there there’ hums. 

“Everything will be okay,” he affirmed eventually, but his words seemed so difficult to believe. 

“No! Everything won’t be okay, Toji,” you cried and shook your head into his neck. “My husband doesn’t want me. Then, if Naoya doesn’t want me, the Zenins wouldn’t want me. Then, no one will want me!” 

“Not true,” Toji was quick to say. He pulled you closer, his large hands patting your upper back too. “Forget Naoya, he’s an utter jerk. He might leave you, but you know who won’t? At the very least, your father won’t—he loves you.” 

“But I would have disappointed him.” 

“How?” he countered sharply. “If he had known how his son-in-law was treating his daughter, why would your father be disappointed in you?” 

Between sniffles, you ruminated his points, half-convinced. 

Toji, breathing out, then added, “Also...I won’t leave you, either. I care about you. There. You’ve already got two on your side. You will not be alone.” 

“But then, what about,” you kept your lips pressed onto his collarbone, “What about the Zenins? Would they turn their backs on me too?” 

Underneath your fingertips, you could feel Toji tensing at the name. “With a family so large, there are bound to be those supporting you as well. You make it sound like all his aunts, his uncles, his...,” he paused briefly, “...his cousins, all worship Naoya when a household like that is rife with drama beneath surface level. Family isn’t family for something like the Zenins. Politics comes first. Business comes first.” 

His answer came out with such confidently that you silently questioned how he could be so sure. 

But you suddenly remembered the kind embraces from Mai and your heart softened at the thought of Maki. 

Maybe Toji was right. 

A soundless sigh flew from your mouth before your arms tightened around Toji's torso, hugging him and resting your chin on his shoulder. After several moments longer, you finally released one long exhale, your tears having stopped and your breathing less erratic. 

Your heart was like lead in your chest, but you pulled your face away from him.  

“I’m sorry,” you rasped, throat raw. “My makeup got onto your shirt.”  

Toji’s smile was soft. 

“That’s fine.” He couldn’t give a damn about his white top. Reassuringly, he ran his hands along your waist before settling on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. “As long as you are feeling better, that’s all I need. Besides, that’s my job, yes?” 

“Yes...” you mumbled shyly, wiping tears from your face with the heel of your hand.  

At the sight, Toji reached toward a tissue box behind the door frame.  

“Don’t cry anymore. Naoya isn’t worth the heartache, I’ll guarantee you that.” He dabbed at your pretty face with the napkin in his hands, wiping away not only the remaining tears but also the stream of snot. Lovely. “I am your friend, okay? Before the therapist stuff. We will fix this, together. That’s what friends are for.” 

Friends. 

When Toji first called him your friend, you did not think that he would somehow become your closest confidant. 

You leaned into his touch briefly, sinking into the comfort of his palm. 

“Feeling better, princess?”  

Toji watched you with a chartreuse glimmer in his eyes before you finally pulled yourself from his grasp. His fingers flexed at the lost touch, almost like he was hesitant to let you go, but who was he to stop you? It wasn’t like Toji was your husband or anything. 

"I am,” you replied. “Thank you.” 

“Any time.” He hummed in the ensuing silence before stepping to the side. “Since you’re already here, why don’t you come in? I wouldn’t want you going back like this. Naoya won’t be home, so at least you will have some company here.”  

Tempting. 

“I really shouldn’t stay...” 

“What? Are you sure?” 

No, you were not sure, and Toji sure as hell knew that. 

He lolled his head toward the interior, a few of his black strands sliding across his forehead with the movement.  

“C’mon, I won’t bite,” he reassured before chuckling, “unless...you want me to.” 

You shot the therapist a glare, but the resolve to stay upset faded when you saw him gleam with a wide smirk. Well? that mischievous spark in him seemed to say. What do you think?  

Rolling your eyes, you initially snorted at the offer but could not help smiling at the stupid joke immediately afterward. Your body crumpled forward as you burst into giggles, realizing that this was the first time in weeks that you were...laughing?  

“Fine,” you relented. 

Toji seemed to beam in silent victory, which was cute coming from someone who looked so tough. He swept his arm in a gentle arc toward his apartment. 

“Then, after you, m’lady.”  

You gusYou gushed at the title.

"If you insist,” and you stepped in.  

The warmth from his condo was the first to greet you as though a fireplace had been crackling in the distance. For someone who somehow had the means to afford such a luxurious space, Toji went simple in his furnishings. His cream-colored walls were cleared, save for some framed art pieces that dotted the corridors, and there were no ornate cabinets or dazzling décor. His taste in minimalism and timelessness contrasted with the grandeur in your palatial-like residence, but both styles had their appeal. 

He had a gray and beige color scheme going on with the couches, the tabletops, and the lighting fixtures. The walnut wood flooring added a rustic touch to the apartment, and every corner effortlessly converged refined aesthetics with the sense of home. Even the smell inside was cozy because the apartment emanated of him—of Toji himself: spices with the redolence of bergamot and sage.   

He guided you through a (very wide) hallway that opened into an equally expansive living room. Towards the side was a spiral staircase that led to an upper floor and, further ahead, floor-to-ceiling windows opened to an evening panorama.  

The sky was completely dark, with the sun sunk below the horizon long ago, and the waxing moon hung like a silver sliver far away. Holding your breath, you stepped towards the glass, observing the bustle far below that twinkled like firecrackers against the concrete backdrop.  

“You know, your place...is a lot nicer than I expected.” 

The man tucked his large hands into his front pockets. “I’m offended.”  

Instantly, you grew flustered. “No, I didn’t mean it like that!” (Yes, you totally did.) “It’s just that Sukuna had made it sound like—” That you were dirt poor. “But then Geto said...” Okay, you shouldn’t be dragging more people into this. “Never mind.” 

Quickly, you glanced back outside again, hoping to look like you were distracted by the vista. 

“But then Sukuna and Geto said what?” Toji pried, not letting you live this down. He appeared uncharacteristically intrigued. He wanted to know what his coworkers had spilled, by how much you knew. “What have the other therapists said about me?” 

“Ah, nothing much really,” you confessed, which was the truth to some extent.  

“How much is ‘nothing much?’” 

“Just, well,” you rolled your lips together in thought, “maybe that something, some event, or some person wronged you.” Geto’s words rang fresh in your head. “That ‘Toji just isn’t where he could possibly be.’” 

Half-expectantly, you looked over at the said man from under your lashes, waiting for him to comment on the matter. Toji always appeared so hesitant to talk about his past, but you hoped that he would stop being so mysterious. It was as though he was an enigma for cautious reasons, assessing how much he could open up before he could entirely trust you. 

Toji had pursed his lips as the silence in the living room became uncomfortable. But just when he appeared ready to speak, someone else filled the silence for him. 

“Why the hell are you here?” 

All heads turned to a frowning teenager who stood by the foot of the stairs.  

He had dark eyes—dark eyes glared only at you, narrowed into a violent abyss as though he was mentally aiming daggers into your soul. For a fleeting moment, you were puzzled at who this boy was until Toji spoke first. 

“That’s no way to greet a guest, Megumi.”  

Oh, right. Toji had an eighteen-year-old son, and Megumi was his name. While you had spoken with the teenager on the phone before, it was different to see him in person for the first time. 

For starters, the physical similarities between father and son became immediately apparent. Sure, Toji’s features had a rough edge around them—shaped from his additional years in life—but the two shared the same black stands, pointed noses, and taut lips. There was no denying the flawless genes that flowed between them. 

Megumi, though, had a subtle softness to him. The teenager was smaller and shorter compared to his imposing and rugged father, but he tried to mask that youthful innocence instead with his brash style. He pulled off that ‘wild’ look better than most boys his age could, his hair longer and more tousled. The way he stood in a contrapposto, coupled with how stylish he appeared in his fuchsia tee and black cargo pants, made him look like a model from a streetwear magazine. He reached for an ear piercing with fingers adorned with flashy rings, toying with one particular stud as he examined you.  

Goodness, Megumi Fushiguro was as good-looking as Sukuna had hyped him up to be.  

“Well?” the boy’s irritated voice snapped you back to the present. “What are you doing at our apartment?” 

“Oh, me?” You pointed to yourself. Well, no shit. Who else was he talking to? “I, um—” 

“You’re another one of my dad’s women, aren’t you?” the teenager asked out of the blue, leaving you staring at him dumbly. 

“One of your dad’s who?” 

“Hey!” Toji warned, tone sharp. Frowning at the boy, he reprimanded him with one forceful thwack. Dad Toji was very different than Therapist Toji. “Watch what you—" 

“You’re the one who called me down here!” Megumi shouted back, pushing his father’s arm away.  

“Yes, I did. So what took you ten minutes to get here?” 

“I was in the middle of Valorant. I left my team mid-game but for this?” 

And suddenly, there was this thick and awkward tension that engulfed the room. If you had the magical ability to teleport at will, you would. Toji was obviously distraught at his son’s outburst and Megumi was similarly bristled by your presence.  

About you? Well, there wasn’t anything you could do. 

You took a few steps back. It was unsettling to be caught in a heated confrontation between father and son, and you silently wondered if you should just slip away to let those two sort out their miscommunications. 

“So, this is your new strategy, huh?” Megumi seethed vehemently toward his father, capitalizing upon the silence. “Telling me that Nobara and Yuuji are here only for you to introduce me to, out of everyone in this world, her?!”  

The attack felt personal when Megumi raised his arm and pointed squarely at you, even if the boy glowered at his dad instead. You had frozen, stopped by confusion, as Megumi continued in anger: “What is the meaning of this!” 

Toji, who was returning his son’s glare, glanced at you briefly. He didn’t show this side to him very often: the one where he was just a single dad, handling a moody teenage son at home.  

You wondered if Toji felt weird that you were watching him deal with Megumi’s tantrum. At least, he must be embarrassed that this was how your first encounter with Megumi was going, but he didn’t offer much into his internal dialogue because he clenched his teeth, his eyes sliding slowly to his son again.  

“Megumi,” Toji started, “please...don’t point at people. That’s not nice.” 

His voice was sterner than before, but the boy responded with a dramatic scoff. 

“Nice?!” Megumi repeated. “You want me to be nice to her? Is this some sick joke?!” His face twisted with disbelief. “With all the horrible crap that had happened to us, what good thing has she ever done? Just because she’s pretty, and suddenly, you’ve forgiven her for everything?” 

You blinked, stumped. 

Forgive you? 

Why would Toji need to forgive you? 

Perplexed, you turned to Toji but he did not meet your gaze. 

“There is nothing to forgive her for. She hasn’t done anything wrong,” the older man defended, but Megumi wanted to hear none of this. 

He was out for blood. 

“That’s because you’re too fucking infatuated to see the demon she is,” he huffed, voice laced with bitterness. “Dad, I wish you would put your goddamn brain to use and stop thinking with your dick first.”  

“Language!” Toji snapped with a roar. “She’s our friend!” 

“Friend, my ass! I don’t like your fucking friends!”  

With eyes blown wide, Megumi clenched his fists so tightly that his hands began to shake.  

“I just...I just can’t believe you,” and when his voice cracked, there was pain that bubbled from the frustration. “I already told you that I don’t want to meet whoever you are bringing home. Just stop trying so hard for my sake. This hurts me, and this also hurts you. Can’t you see that, Dad? Nothing’s going to bring Mom back! I’m over that, alright?” His Adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped, though, before he finally added: “And I’m tired!” 

At that, Megumi walked—correction, stormed—away. 

“Fuck this shit,” he spat and marched up the stairs, grumbling more profanities upon his climb. 

The footsteps’ volume started to fade, but not before a loud bang startled you when Megumi slammed his bedroom door shut, the entire apartment seemingly shuddering with the sound. 

Beside you, the Toji that you had always known—the snarky man who always seemed so unruffled by even the wildest moments—crumbled a little when he sighed. He rubbed his face with a free hand, sinking his forehead into his palm as he muttered indiscernibly. 

He collected himself he turned back around to you, but you saw that his shoulders sagged with an invisible weight, the emerald glimmer in his eyes now a dim flicker. Within ten minutes, Toji had grown to look stressed and incredibly tired. 

“Hey,” Toji started, his voice impossibly small for a man as large as him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry that you had to see that. He’s usually a good kid. I’ll talk to him again later.” 

You bit your lip.  

“Oh, um...Well...That’s okay,” you eventually replied, which was a total lie because that was not okay. Even as you offered a small smile for support, Megumi—his words, his tone, his ferocious glare—slashed at your heart. You rationalized his behavior aloud to ease your own pain. “Megumi’s eighteen, and you know what teenagers are like: hormonal with their mood swings all the time. You are a great father, Toji. This isn’t your fault.” 

“No. This is my fault,” he replied very quickly.  

Oh. So instead you said: “I get it.” 

“Except you don’t get it.”  

Your heart sank at his words, realizing that you truly did not understand where this father-son conflict stemmed from. Was it...was it because of you? 

You never intended to burden anyone, yet your mere existence appeared to be doing just that. 

It was painful to see Toji like this. During your lowest lows, he always offered considerable comfort and renewed confidence, but you weren’t sure what to say to provide him with the same. By some weird twisted fate, Toji now needed you more than you needed him. As a therapist, he had a special soothing effect, and never have you so badly wished for the same. 

“Then,” this time you were more careful with your words, “Then, help me understand. Help me so that I can then help you.”  

Tone resolute, you longed to learn about the unspoken difficulties that Toji had been facing by himself. While you had your troubles, he must have had many more for his son—not even Toji himself—to act this way.  

Perhaps you also cared for him more than you thought because, as he noted himself, he’s your friend. 

Toji held a long inhale, thinking and thinking and thinking, before breathing out in one audible go.  

“Where do I even start?” 

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I loved fleshing out our relationship with Toji from a channel to mutually release sexual frustrations to a friendship built upon shared vulnerabilities. Also, Megumi is very much in his emo and rebellious teenage era. Like most people his age, he has his reasons…

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[rainbowsky]

Hi Rainbowsky, hope you are well. ☺️✨

In the last few weeks there has been a lot of hate, lawsuits, hot trends etc like the usual so/o stuff…nothing new surprise surprise. 🙄 I was thinking maybe if xz or yb made a statement that there is no bad blood between them, (they don't have to come out or make it clear that they are friends privately) but more like "yeah we worked together and are still on good terms" and "please don't attack or make false rumours about the other person" would the hate die down a bit or do you think it will get worse? I know it's not their job to give brain cells to mindless so/os, but maybe it could help newer fans who joined the fandom just so they wouldn't jump on the hate bandwagon because of so/os. It must be exhausting for xz and yb with all the hate, suing accounts, planning how to avoid the other person at award show because of stupid “fans” etc.

These are just some of the thoughts I've been having over the last few days. Are my thoughts too simple? I don't know if xz or yb made a statement already or if you've talked about this before, if so I'm sorry for filling your question box unnecessarily.

thank you for reading my question 🥰 I wish u a beautiful day and enjoy your weekend ✌🏽☺️

Hi Jinniecooky! Thanks, I hope you're well too! ☺️

Unfortunately I really don't see a statement improving things. It would be too risky on various fronts and would likely only make matters worse.

These fan groups are organized, well-oiled machines - especially GG's. The leadership of these groups tells the fans what to do and how to act, they give strict guidelines on what is expected of the fans, and any fan who wants to be included has to stay in line and do, say, believe as they're told.

Part of that involves selling narratives created and perpetuated by these fandom leaders and their corporate black pr embeds. They come up with elaborate stories that cast the star as a selfless, brilliant hero who is in a grand cosmic battle against 'those who want to destroy them', often with detailed claims and photoshopped or misleadingly edited/framed 'evidence' to support those claims.

Fans get sucked into these narratives and believe with all their hearts that the stories are true. They spend countless hours online spreading these lies and battling these imagined foes. They spend all their money on endorsements - whether they can afford it or not - and all their spare time on boosting the star's numbers on every platform and in every way they can.

As a result they have a deeply rooted conceit that they know what's best for the star, that the star owes their fame and success to fans, and that their activities - as hateful as they often are - are nothing less than the devoted, dedicated, selfless, heroic hard work on behalf of the star.

A statement like this would be treated as ingratitude, and would cause a lot of uproar and anger. These toxic fans would lose a lot of face if such a statement was issued, because it would run against everything they've been and stood for up until this point. The fan groups would likely try to recover by turning against the star and their management - making an even bigger mess for the star to clean up.

As I've said many times - toxic fan culture is about power and status. It's about these fans and fan groups wanking over their star being the biggest, best, etc. The bigger and more successful the star, the more of an ego boost these fans get out of it.

Speaking against anything these fans say or do cuts into that power and status in a way that can be very dangerous. We've all seen how people who speak up against them are treated. Trust me - the star and his team would fare no better if they spoke up.

The serious, long-standing fans who are deeply embedded in fan culture - especially the leadership figures in these fandoms - often know 'where the bodies are buried', too. They've made it their business to know all the dirt on their star, all the better to keep his image clean and bury the story. These are not the kind of people a star will want on their bad side.

In many ways, stars are hostages to their fan groups. These are the people pushing to build their numbers and success, and they can be very fickle, demanding and nasty.

Not only that, a statement would only draw more attention to these battles and bring them into the mainstream where passersby would see all the dirty laundry that's currently confined mostly to fandom spaces. It could escalate everything into an even bigger scandal that could burn out of control and possibly permanently damage or destroy the star.

There's also the fact that GG and DD will not want to risk the nature of their relationship becoming a bigger public story.

And that's before we even get into the fact that they've released dozens of statements over the years - especially GG - trying to get fans into line, giving guidelines on fan behavior, etc. and these toxics have ignored every word of it.

Overall, I just don't see a statement helping at all, and would likely only make matters worse.

I've often felt their best bet would be to come out as friends in a setting where fans dare not fuck with things. For example, appearing onstage together at a nationalistic event or in a nationalistic program.

But that's unlikely to ever happen for various reasons. Appearing together would put both of them at huge risk. Such an appearance would inevitably draw a lot of attention and gossip. Even if it was mostly positive due to fans trying not to cause any trouble, GG and DD would overshadow the message and gravity of the occasion. It would make them look bad - at best, traffic stars (images they're trying to shed), at worst, disrespectful or irreverent to the government or serious occasion.

And one would have to accept the possibility that even such a serious occasion under the eye of the government wouldn't be enough to stop fan wars from happening.

At the end of the day, it's just safer for GG and DD to let things run their course and hope that these assholes eventually lose interest and move on. To accept fan wars and haters as just part of the cost of doing business.

Similarly, I think we need to just accept that haters gonna hate, and stop focusing on haters and antis. We're not here for other fans, we're here for GG and DD. If we put our focus there and block and ignore all the toxics, we can enjoy fandom - which is the entire point.

Recent post related to this topic:

GG and DD supposedly collaborating on a new movie

[hopelesslyromanticgay]

An Americano Please PT. 7

Word Count : about 2K

TW: Percy🤮, mental health, and descriptions of malnourishment (not ED related) and smoking(not done by anyone in first person)

Jenna's POV (finally)

Oh my god she kissed me. She actually kissed me!

I can't believe I've known her for two weeks and I'm already down this bad. 

The walk home from Y/N's apartment isn't a bad one, just a few blocks away, so when I get to my complex, Percy, my other costar is waiting for me in the lobby.

"So, how was your walk with that girl?" he asks, implying so much with his tone.

"Really nice," I smile, unable to hide my excitement.

"Cool, cool. Emma tells me you all went for pizza together?"

"Yeah, we would have invited you but you were filming."

"Maybe you can take me there some other time. Anyhow, tell me about the walk?"

"Well if you really want all the details..." I start.

"I do," he interjects.

"She and I kissed," I confess, a blush rising in my cheeks.

"Congratulations," he says, his tone coming off a little forced. It's been pretty clear from the beginning that he has some form of feelings for me, but I've made it clear I'm not interested in anything more than friendship.

"Well..." I say awkwardly, "I'm gonna go up to my apartment, get those few hours of sleep."

God that was so awkward.

...

My wake-up alarm blares, causing me to jolt awake. 4:30 already?

I rub the sleep from my eyes, slowly making my way out of bed and into the shower.

My driver comes to pick me up at 5:15, there's no time to visit Y/N for coffee today.

I'm in the makeup trailer by 5:30, getting my hair done as soon as I arrive.

"Morning Jenna," Joy smiles from across the trailer.

"Hello," I wave.

"Percy tells me you had a lot of fun last night," Georgie winks from a few chairs over, his gorgon headdress being carefully placed on his head.

"He told you that?" my jaw drops in disbelief. Georgie nods. Wow Percy, That's really none of your business to share.

And look who it is, Percy Hynes White walks into the trailer.

"What the fuck Percy!" I exclaim, "you told them I kissed Y/N?"

"Jenna, I need you to sit still so we can get your eyeliner right," the makeup artist tells me.

"Okay, give me one second."

"Yeah, I told him, so?" he rolls his eyes

"Percy, it's my right to say who I kiss. Not yours."

"Well last I checked I had the right to freedom of speech," he retorts.

"Look, I don't want to start a fight, Percy," I say, trying to be calm, "but you can't do that again."

"Okay, fine," he sighs exasperatedly, "I won't go around telling people about your stupid barista girlfriend." He dramatically exits, slamming the door behind him. What a diva.

"To be clear, guys, she's not my girlfriend," I clarify.

"Not yet anyway," Georgie winks.

"Don't get my hopes up."

Every day of the week my schedule piles up more and more.

I have cello in between shoots, fencing after work, and archery with Percy every few days. 

It's Saturday already and I haven't seen Y/N once! I hope she doesn't think I'm ghosting her.

I just got onto set and immediately I'm rushed into the costume trailer to get into my fencing gear. It's such an action heavy day and I already feel so light headed. I want to tell the director that I can't do it. I know it will just absolutely destroy me, but before I can get a word out, I'm practically pulled onto set.

My breakfast of a small fruit salad churns in my stomach. I can't so much as focus for twenty seconds as the stunt choreographer starts to debrief us on the scene.

I look over at Joy, the person I'm fighting in this scene, she seems to be taking everything in perfectly.

My head starts to ache with dizziness.

"Jenna, are you okay?" the AD asks.

Say it's fine. Like you always do. Be easy to work with.

"I- I think I n-need to sit down," I stutter quietly. My legs practically give away the second a chair is brought over to me.

The on set nurse is quick to bring me a glass of water which I drink gratefully.

"Are you feeling nauseated, Jenna?" she asks me.

"No, just a little lightheaded," I force a smile.

"You look a tad pale, did you have breakfast this morning?" she inquires.

"Yeah, I had a fruit salad."

"Is that what you have every day?" she asks.

"More or less," I answer truthfully.

"That's not nearly enough protein and nutrients for someone with a schedule like yours. Do you ever have eggs?"

"No, I'm a vegan," I explain.

"Oh right, well in that case you need to find a way to get more protein and iron or else it's only going to get worse," she tells me.

"O-okay," I say. God Jenna, you've really messed up this time.

"You should go home and get some rest, I'll get the producers to move your cello class to tomorrow."

"No!" I exclaim, "I need to do this!"

"Jenna, I can't let you do this today. You need to rest and recover."

"No, I need to be on set!" What kind of lead in a show DOESN'T show up to set when she needs to be there. What kind of person does this make me?

"Jenna, you need to rest. How about a compromise, you can do your cello lesson, but you need to go back to your apartment and get rest."

"Fine," I sigh, disappointed in myself.

"Do you have anyone who can take you home?" she asks, "all of our drivers are on break right now."

"No," I say half heartedly. I could ask Y/N, but I don't want to burden her. I don't want to burden anyone.

"Okay, let's get you to your trailer and you can lie down there for now." I nod cautiously. Standing up is worse than usual. Immediately, I can feel myself getting dizzy.

We walk back to my trailer, I find myself lying down on the couch. My head spins with worry What if production is delayed because of me?

I hear a knock on my trailer door, "Hey Jenna, it's me, Emma.

"Come in," I say happily. I love being around Emma. She's such a positive person.

"Joy says you're not feeling too good."

"Yeah, I guess," I say.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she sits down next to me, "you wanna talk?"

"It's just a lot," I confess, "all of these classes, and shoots, and work in general. It's just so much. And now I have to change what I'm eating because apparently I'm not getting enough nutrients!" Tears start to fall down my face.

"Hey, I've got you," she soothes me, stroking my hair, "it's gonna be okay."

It's about then that I slowly fall asleep.

Y/N's POV:

God, I hope I didn't fuck up with Jenna. The last time I was Tuesday night when we kissed. I haven't even gotten a text since.

I'm scared, what if she doesn't like me anymore?

"What's got you so upset? " Nessa asks between drags on her cigarette. I cough on the smoke coming from it.

"I just wish I could talk to Jenna," I admit.

"Man, just chill, it's normal to go a few days without talking to someone."

"Yeah, but normally if the last interaction was a kiss, it means that relationship is over," I point out.

"Just chill out, okay, acting's like, a hard job."

"Fine," I say, getting up, "I'm gonna drive home. See ya tomorrow."

The walk from the coffee shop to my car is less than two minutes. I only drove to work today because I was coming from Nessa's apartment and didn't want to leave my car there.

As soon as I get into the driver's seat, my phone starts to buzz with a call from a number I haven't seen before. Curious, I decide to pick up.

"Hello, is this Y/N?" the voice behind the phone asks.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Hi! This is Emma from Tuesday night, Jenna's not feeling well today, and I was wondering if you could drive her home from set?"

"Shit, is she okay?" I inquire. Fuck, I hope everything is alright!

"She'll be fine," Emma assures me, "can you drive her?"

"Sure, is she okay with that?"

"In all honesty, she's asleep right now and I found your number on a piece of paper on her counter."

"Isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"Shut up, I was doing what I thought was right."

"Okay, fine, I'll come pick her up, but I don't want her to be surprised to see me."

"Deal." I hang up the phone. This day just got a lot more interesting.

I pull up to set about thirty minutes later to see Jenna and Emma waiting for me. I can see immediately what Emma meant by Jenna not feeling well.

There were heavy bags under her eyes, but the rest of her skin was so much paler than usual. I could see her twitching a bit, and it seemed like she was struggling to stay alert. Seeing her like this immediately replaces any resentment I may have had for her for avoiding me with pure concern.

"Hey there," I roll down the window to talk to them.

"Thank you so much for coming," Jenna says, smiling weakly.

"Here, let me help you into the car," I say gently, getting out to open the passenger seat door for her.

"I'll let you two be on your merry way then," Emma says cheerfully, "Feel better, Jenna." Leaving me and Jenna alone in the car together.

The silence between us is anything but comfortable. The radio went to static from low signal, and neither of us know what to say.

After a painfully awkward twenty five minutes, we pull up next to her apartment. 

"Can you help me up?" she asks, clearly a little embarrassed. I smile, and offer her a hand which she gratefully takes.

"Thank you so much, I don't know how I can repay you."

"Consider it a random act of kindness." She laughs a little.

The two of us walk to the elevator quietly, not really knowing what we could possibly say.

"So what's got you feeling so sick?" I ask curiously.

"Not getting enough protein, I guess."

"Oh that makes sense. Film sets probably don't have the best vegan options."

"On that, we can agree," she laughs weakly. The door flies open, revealing Jenna's apartment floor. I've never been in her place before.

"I'm right down the hall," she directs me.

I nod, and start walking with her.

She quickly disappears into her room to put on some more comfortable clothes, coming out in sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

"Here, let's get you some food," I say, bringing her a pb&j sandwich, "I know its not a gourmet meal or anything, but peanut butter's really good for you."

"Thank you so much," she smiles, "I don't deserve you."

"Hey, don't say that," I say. 

"But I don'ttt," she whines, "I don't talk to you for days after kissing you and yet you come to take care of me as soon as you hear I'm not doing too good!" 

"Jenna, please just eat your sandwich," I laugh, "we can talk about it when you're doing better."

She nods, "okay."

A few minutes later, she's done with the sandwich, and I can tell she's getting tired.

"Hey, do you wanna try to get some rest?" I suggest. She nods quietly.

I help her up from the couch, and guide her to her room.

She goes to the bed to lie down, pulling the covers over herself to stay warm

I turn to leave, my plan is to go home, but it's quickly thwarted.

"Can you stay?" she pleads, "I don't want to be alone."

"Sure," I smile, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed. She slowly repositions herself to be cuddled up to my side, laying her head in my lap.

"Good night, Y/N/N," she says softly.

"Good night," I smile, kissing her forehead. 

I can see her vibrantly blushing in the dim light of her room. She's just so insanely cute.

I run my fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her. It doesn't take long before she fully falls asleep.

The two of us are gonna have a lot to talk about when she wakes up.

[otherone12]

Why Me?

Gerard Way × Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! Does anyone really read this?? Well, now I'm not on vacation anymore, so I'll end up posting less frequently. I didn't like this one, but... hope u enjoy it (Ray x Reader fic coming soon <3) 

Summary: You finally get the chance to meet your favorite comic artist, you just didn't know that he would end up finding your nervousness cute enough to ask you to go out with him.

- Word Count: 1.310

- Warnings: none :)

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV:

I’ve waited for so long to finally meet the man who inspired me. I've been into his work since I was a teenager and everytime i wasn’t feeling well, his comics made my day better. Also, he’s really pretty and in all the interviews I've seen of him, he looks so cute.

I’m actually spending all my savings just to go to that event and don’t even know how I'm gonna act when I see him, I mean, I will probably laugh like crazy, stutter some compliments or fall unconscious on the floor. 

However, I convinced my best friend to go with me, so I won't be so embarrassed, or at least not alone if I do something weird.

- You’re sure you’re ready? - My friend asked me when we’re in the row. - ‘Cause you look like you’re about to explode. 

They chuckled and I got a bit more nervous than I already was, the feeling of being that transparent made me uncomfortable. 

- I’m fine… - I said, swallowing hard and breathing deeply. - I just don’t know what to say 

Looking around, I saw that the line was moving quickly and soon it would be our turn to get an autograph and take a picture. 

- To him? 

Wasn’t that the most obvious question in the world?

- Yeah, who else? 

- I don’t know, I mean, you’ve been obsessed with him since you’re like fifteen, right? - They said it in a normal voice tone, but it seems like they’re screaming, so i immediately turned red - And don’t know what to tell him?

A week ago I started to practice in front of the mirror of my room, trying to imagine possible scenes with Gerard, but I will never never told anyone about it. 

- Shut up! -I hit my elbow on their shoulder in desperation and fear that someone had heard, even though he was too far away to hear anything. - I’m not obsessed with him, I admire him a lot. Just that.

- Sure… - The sarcasm made me want to respond, but the cut with the next sentence took my focus away from our conversation. - Look, we’re next

 Even when the person in front of us was taking the photo with Gerard, I looked ahead and I could see him. I swear he looked at me at the same time and my reaction was look away and widen my eyes at my friend

- Holy shit… WHAT SHOULD I SAY?

- Try something like “hi, i'm your fan” - this contrast between us was very strange, on the one hand I was freaking out, but on the other, they was acting as if Gerard Fucking Way was just any guy. - And act normal, please.

In less than a second I felt my body heat up, the closer I got, the more tense I became. I tried unsuccessfully to look into his eyes, but I couldn't maintain my focus for long. 

My stomach filled with butterflies when I heard his voice. Even though I've heard it on the radio several times, it's a totally different experience.

- Hey! 

It took me a few seconds to try to open my mouth, but my brain stopped working. A short awkward moment that felt like hours was cut away.

- Hi! - My friend, who apparently didn’t see Gerard as a celebrity said. without thinking about what i wanted them to say - They're huge fan of you! Like, they don't stop to talk about you for at least a second

- HEY! - I gasped with fright when they finished speaking -T-that’s not true! I mean, I'm your fan, but it’s not like I’m weird or something. 

My scream turned into an almost whisper, which was almost drowned out by the sounds of the environment. 

- That's okay. - He said with a chuckle. - You want a picture?

His sweet and inviting look made me want to hug him, and when he extended his arm towards me I couldn't help but blush even more.

- Sure! 

He wrapped his arms around my body and my friend took a picture of us. My heart was racing and the smell of coffee that he was emitting wasn’t helping me to calm down. 

- So…- He took my comic to sign it, and when he looked at me again, to my surprise, he noticed my Star Wars shirt. - i like your shirt 

- Thanks!

-This will probably sound weird, but… are you free after the event?

I gave him a shy smile and heard my friend giggling by my side. I thought that was my imagination, but i blinked twice and had the clue that Gerard Was has a light blush on his face.

It was a little embarrassing when we exchanged glances, but even stranger than that was the question that came next.

He reached out to hand me the comic and I looked him straight in the eyes.

- I-I am… why?

I took the comic and put it in my purse, without breaking eye contact. 

- Maybe… if you don’t mind… we could go out for a coffee? 

Standing in front of him, I froze. It's not like I don't love the idea, but I know myself well enough to know that I'm definitely going to say something stupid without thinking.

- THEY’RE SUPER IN!

My friend responded before I had the chance. His gaze passed from my friend to me, and his smile grew worried as he seemed to think about the truth of the statement.

- Really? - I asked, still in disbelief that Gerard Way asked me out. 

- If you're up for that… - He put his hand behind his neck, looking at the floor and sounding a little more shy than he had moments before. - Look, if you don’t want to…

- Of course I'm in! 

I tried hard to keep my posture, but the shine in his eyes hit my heart so hard and I smiled, feeling my face burn again.

- We met at the front door in three hours? 

- I’ll be there…

*** time skip ***

After a large amount of people left the place, i finally saw gerard at the door, he was looking around, i assumed that he was looking for me, cause when his eyes meet mine, a tiny smile forms in his lips.

I approached him, avoiding one or another person who appeared on the way.

- You came!

He said, with a relieved sight.

- Yeah! - He opened the door and we started to move to the coffee shop - I mean, It's not often that your idol asks you out, right?

There were few people on the street and the atmosphere was pleasant. Walking next to him was very strange, because at the same time it was something incredible that I had always dreamed of, but on the other hand, it didn't seem real. It was like I was going to wake up at any moment.

- I don’t know… sounds like the perfect one to describe you, in my vision.

- “Idol” is a strong word, don’t you think?

He chuckled a little and I tried not to look like I was fawning over him.

- Why me? - His confused gaze made me explain even more what i was talking about - There were like, a lot of people, why me?

- If you say so…

After a few minutes of walking, we arrived at the coffee shop and, like a gentleman, he opened the door. my heart started to jump in my chest when he chose a table with two seats, facing each other, next to the window.

A friendly girl took our orders and I asked him a question that had been on my mind since the moment Gerard asked me to have coffee with him.

- To be honest… You’re so pretty and looked so nervous, I found it really attractive.

___________________________________________

- Damn i feel like those awful tiktok POVs

We laughed, really loud, and it feels like we knew each other for a century.

~Well, that's it... hope you liked :)

[moonchildstyles]

OOH OOH OOH!!!! what if you did citrine!y/n tries a spell and accidentally gets hurt and harry gets all dominant and like “you should have asked for my help! this is why you don’t do spells by yourself!!” and also maybe sarah catches harry doing magic at one point??!?

wordcount: 5.5k+

—————

"Hey, honey." 

(Y/N)'s chirped greeting elicited only a small smile from Harry's features, not at all the reaction she was used to from him.

"Hi, sunshine," he responded, sounding drained. Though it took a second for his aura to kick in for her, the second it did, she could see just how muted the colors were compared to the vividness she was used to from her Flame. 

"What's the matter?" she asked, shifting her car into drive to take them back to her apartment for the night. 

Harry heaved a sigh in the passenger seat, running a heavy hand through his hair. "Jus' a long day. I like the record store, and I've been getting a handle on training, surprisingly, but 's jus' a lot to get used to. Haven't done anything like this in decades." 

"Oh, H," she crooned, reaching across the center console to lace her fingers between his, "But after you're done training, they're going to cut your hours back down, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed out, looking to her with softened eyes as he squeezed her hand, "Jus' feels like 's so far off; I miss you. I've barely even had time with Bonnie and Dande this week." 

Running her thumb in quiet circles over the warmth of his hand, (Y/N) sighed. She ached in her chest, knowing how much he was hurting. He loved his little animals, so she was sure that this past week alone had put a lot of strain on his heart. "I know, but it's almost over. They'll be so excited to see you when you come home this weekend, too. It'll be special since it's been a little while." 

A small smile touched at the corners of Harry's lips at the idea of his girls getting the jitters from being excited to see him. "Right," he breathed, "I'll have to make something special for dinner for them." 

For a flicker, Harry's aura reappeared, filling her car with his divine light. Vividity had returned to the rings haloing his form, even if the drained, beige ribbon was still wrapped around the very edge. She hoped he would be able to feel how content that made her to know that he was feeling even a little better. 

"We'll have to do something special together, too," he told her, bringing her hand up to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it. 

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she said, looking to him from the corner of her eye as she kept her attention on driving. (Y/N) had already been thinking about something she could do to make this week up to him, though she was sure Harry had different ideas than she had had swirling around. 

She just hoped her idea worked out the way she wanted.

—————

(Y/N) was out of breath by the time she made it up to Harry's meadow. 

Looking out on the wide open space, despite the cottage and the flora filling the space, it felt so empty without Harry there. He was like the sun of this space, everything revolving around him and bending to his will out of nothing but love. Even Bonnie, who was curled up on the porch of his house, looked bored out of her mind since her dad wasn't there. 

"Hi, sweetie," she greeted the mountain lion with a pass of her fingers over the fluff between her ears. Bonnie only huffed before laying her head back down on her paws. "He's coming home tonight, you know. He'll be home a lot more now after this." 

As if she could understand what (Y/N) was saying, Bonnie looked up with her big eyes, nose puffing. A twitch came to her ears as if she were perking up at the news, keening into (Y/N)'s petting hand. "Me too," she told her, "I'm excited too, sweetie." 

With a lingering pet, (Y/N) pushed through to Harry's cottage. He'd barely been spending any time here this past week, having taken to sleeping at (Y/N)'s place through the nights so he wouldn't have to go too far to get to work on time. The area was just as she was sure he had left it the previous Sunday: records out of place with Pink Floyd on his player, his kitchen a little bit of a mess with crumbs from his breakfast he made himself before rushing out, and his bed unmade. The little divot at the end of the bed still remained from where she was sure Dandelion had been sleeping since her dad had left. 

After toeing off her shoes by the front door, bag dropped just beside, (Y/N) started on her first step of her plan. Harry was getting off of his final training shift in a little over an hour, leaving with just enough time to execute her plan to dote on him after such a long week. She was going to clean up his cottage (possibly even weed his garden if she had the time), make him some dinner, tend to his girls, and make sure he had the most stressless night imaginable as he adjusted. More film for his camera was stowed away in her tote bag, along with ingredients for the night's dinner, and a spare change of clothes as she planned on staying the night with him. 

Her sweep of the cottage started by his record player. She sheathed the opened records and replaced them in his beloved crate that was becoming a little too full for comfort as his collection had been non-stop growing since she came into his life. Just as she made a mental note to grab him an extra, she stopped herself with a small smile. He would be able to get himself another crate at work. 

After placing one of the records she had introduced him to on the player, the needle finding the divots a moment later, she started on the real work. Her first stop was the kitchen, cleaning up and putting away the mess he'd left out as she hummed along to the crackling song filtering through the space. Just as she'd began rifling through his cabinets in prep of getting dinner together later, she heard a digging at the front door. Tiny feet patting against the wood along with bumps against the front door gave away who would be waiting for her the second she made her way to the screen door. 

 A pair of fluffy white ears peeked over the paneling of the door, a set of dark eyes and a puffing nose following after as (Y/N) grew closer. "Hi, Dande," she crooned to her friend, propping open the door for the bunny to pad on in. 

As always, Dandelion greeted her with a pat of her head against (Y/N)'s ankle before she scampered off in favor of reclaiming her spot on Harry's bed. Dande hunkered down with a puff of her nose, her little feet tucked under the white puffball of her body before she trained her eyes on (Y/N).

"Harry's coming home tonight," she told the bunny, resuming her work in the kitchen as she collected utensils and cookware to help her later on in the night. Peeking over her shoulder with a pot in hand, she saw the familiar twitch of Dandelion's ears and the slow blink of her eyes in contentedness. 

She hoped Harry knew how loved he was by his little creatures. 

Dandelion was quick to fall asleep as soon as she got comfortable, leaving (Y/N) to herself as she puttered around the cottage with tidiness appearing in her wake. Making his bed was the hardest part, having to move Dandelion from her cozy spot as she fixed the bedding. Though she did seem happy with the fluff of pillows she left her in, a nest for her to rest in until her dad made it home. Fixing up the mess of his comforter led her to kneel off the side of his bed, tucking the bedding into the mattress. The angle offered her a peek under his bed, finding the aged spine of a book, cracks showing in the binding with the gold lettering having faded some. 

(Y/N) had seen the book once before when he'd first revealed his secret to her. He offered her the volume as a way of answering questions she didn't know where to begin with. This was the same book she found all the information there was about Twin Flames and what her love was going to be like now that she'd found her forever person. 

She couldn't help herself but to slide the book out of hiding, carefully opening the front cover to show off the table of contents. The pages were thin and weathered, Harry having shared with her that it was in his family for centuries before his mother passed it on to him when he left the coven for his own nomadic adventures. This was the book that carried him through his years along, almost every page, spell, and potion having been committed to memory.

Instinctively, she wanted to open up to the page describing Twin Flames, reread the details that had been lost to time since she had opened this book months ago. Just as she ran her fingertips over the edge of the page, one of the sections on the table caught her eye, an idea blooming in her head.

Around the same time he had let her read his book, he'd also pointed out a few spells and rituals that didn't need the prerequisite of being a witch to perform. They were usually for beginners, people who had very recently found their powers and couldn't properly tap into them, or for someone like him who had struggled to get a grip on his magic while he waited for his Flame to balance him out. When she had asked if these could be things she could try out, she could remember the way he gave her a bubbly smile, excitedly telling her he'd love to show her how to perform these rituals. 

Despite his excitement, that had been something that was pushed to the wayside when she found all the information about their Alignment Ritual, and dropped from her mind the more time went on. Now, looking at the page, having thumbed to the beginner spells without thinking, that same excitement was reignited in her. 

Harry always used his magic to help take care of her, to make her days easier and the load on her shoulders lighter. Looking at this page, faded cursive and aging drawings, she wanted to do the same for him. Surely there could be something in here like the tea he was so fond of making for her that took the ache out of her feet after long serving shifts, or the sachet he would place under her pillow if he knew she was having trouble sleeping. 

With her heart a flutter at the idea of indulging in the things she was sure Harry hadn't had anyone do for him in as long as it'd been since he left home, she carefully set the spell book down on the kitchen counter. She needed to get a few more things done, then she would dedicate her attention to her first try at magic. 

The rest of (Y/N)'s chores came quickly. She finished cleaning the cottage, made dinner for the girls—Dande a mushroom salad using the sprouts Harry had tucked away in his fridge, and a chicken salad that he had already had chilling for Bonnie (she was sure it wasn't very satisfying for the mountain lion, but she would eat anything her dad had a hand in)—, and started dinner for the two of them now that Harry only had another fifteen minutes remaining of his shift. He was much more used to the trek up to his cottage, making it a quick walk for him, so she hoped she could have everything done and still warm for him by the time he would be joining her. 

After flipping the record to B-side, (Y/N) started on dinner as she hummed along. While she wasn't quite as talented as Harry was in the kitchen, she hoped he would still be satisfied with her attempt at a vegan batch of Jade Noodles for him, complete with her own version of the sesame dressing. He loved peas enough that she hoped with the extra pods she added in, he could forgive any mistakes she made. 

Once she got to a good stopping point on the food, letting everything simmer, steep, and sweat, she excitedly reached for the open book on the counter. Thumbing through the amateur section, she tried to find something that didn't look too complicated, but would help Harry when he undoubtedly came home exhausted.  

(Y/N) perked up when she saw a potion detailing out something about the release of toxic energy. The mixture promoted its consumer to release the negative energy from their system, leaving them light and refreshed. Rejuvenating, it had been described as with several lines slashes underneath the word. This would be perfect, she figured, knowing just how much stress Harry had been carrying even prior to starting his job. Every bit of nervous energy and stressed pinch of his nerves would be gone in no time if she made him this. 

The ingredients listed under the sketch of the potion seemed easy enough to gather. She knew Harry had a lot of things lying around his cottage and growing in his garden. She had yet to see him out of anything he needed, so she had no reason to believe he wouldn't have everything listed on the page. 

Double checking on dinner, she made sure to reduce everything to a barely there simmer with lids on every pot and a cover on the beans that had already been blanched before she was out the front door with the spell book in hand. The potion called for sprigs of plants she had no idea how to pronounce—most likely in Welsh as Harry had explained to her was one of the mother tongues of his coven. But, one flick through to the glossary showed her drawings of each plant that was needed. 

It was easy to compare everything to what he had growing in his garden. Flowers that looked like lavender sprigs were quickly plucked, a silent thank you given to the flora that Harry had taught her. Chamomile-esque blooms joined the fray along with something that smelled like fresh snow when she brought the petals to her nose. Each fragrance was calming, leading her to believe she was on the right track. Peppery leaves were collected, the scent especially spicy compared to the gentle flowers that were forming a bouquet in her grip. But, glancing over the potion recipe, it seems this was all the right moving parts to get together. It wasn't until she reached the final ingredient that (Y/N) hit a snag. 

The name had been something completely undecipherable, having worn away after time. She tried her best to make out the faded letters as well as she could before she turned to the glossary once more. When she thought she found what she had been looking for, a drawing of a berry-like fruit colored the small section given to the ingredient. It looked like a pomegranate, a deep red color with vining purple veins, pockmarked with baby pink swatches that looked like stars. (Y/N) had to crawl deeper into Harry's garden to get a better look, trying to find something that looked similar to the drawing. 

A pinch touched at her brow when she couldn't find anything matching the reference picture. Harry always had everything, surely his plot of land was a witch's dream with the way he stocked up on everything, but he didn't have this? The closest (Y/N) could spot was a small fruited shrub that grew in a tiny patch against the wall of the cottage. The berries looked closer to that of a blueberry, tiny and purple with black spots. Perhaps they were her pomegranate berries that just weren't quite ripe, yet? 

Sitting back on her heels, (Y/N) pulled the book to sit on her lap as she glanced back and forth between the berry patch and the photo she had been searching with. They were similar enough, she thought. Besides, this book was very old and a little discolored anyway. There was a big chance there wasn't even a berry out there like the one drawn, with the way time could have altered the image and sullied the colors. 

With that in mind and the ticking time clock of when Harry would be on his way, she plucked a handful of the berries off the bush, adding them to her collection. From what she remembered from every time Harry let her sit in on his rituals and potion-making, he preferred to do all of his craft outside. It tied him closer to the Earth, he had told her, the lack of barrier between him and the lush ground that took care of him gave him more positive energy and a stronger tie to the cycle he was attributing to with his magic. That was why she grabbed all of her supplies—a small  crystalline bowl, a mortar and pestle, and a tiny pouch to steep the mixture into a tea when done—and immediately made her altar out by the river that ran through the meadow. 

The running water made for a gentle symphony to play through her ears, calming her some now that nerves had arose over the fact she was actually going to make a real life potion. Before Harry, she'd only seen this kind of stuff in cartoons and movies, and now she was going to get to try it for herself. Hopefully, Harry would be impressed. 

With the spell book splayed open in front of her, (Y/N) followed every step. Grinding up the leaves and flowers, she watched as a paste formed under the cool moonlight. Flower petals ran bright streaks through the forest green stems that made the majority of the mixture, flora smells being tamped out by the peppery aroma of the added leafy greens she ground along with them. By the time everything almost began to resemble a dough (a very odd texture, but (Y/N) didn't have the place to question it really), she transferred it to the bowl and added a touch of water from the running river as was called by the recipe. 

(Y/N) watched in awe as the paste began to change, leveling out into something thick like honey and sweet smelling like brown sugar, studded by tiny, white flowers that floated along inside by a current she couldn't see. If not for the fact she was on a time limit, she could have stared at the mixture for hours, watching the flowers play like fairies in the forest-hued potion. But, knowing that Harry would be due back within the next ten minutes had her hustling to reach for the faux-blueberries to be added to the bowl. 

With a few prods of the pestle, the berries burst, inking the mixture a deep plum shade. As per the instructions, only a few grinds of the utensil was needed before the potion was meant to steep under the moonlight. (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off it as she watched the ingredients work their own magic with each other. The current that had formed to float along with those tiny flowers had flourished into a rolling boil. Thick bubbles burst with spatters of the mixture landing out on the blades of grass cradling the bowl. 

Just as (Y/N) leaned in, wanting a closer look at what was happening with her first potion, the mixture seemingly took a turn. Those black spots that marred her berries began to spider out from the skins of the faux-blueberries. Their reach continued until everything was snuffed into a deep black, the crystalline bowl turning into its own tiny void in the middle of the meadow. Glancing at the spell book, (Y/N) knew this wasn't quite right. By now, the berries should have stained everything into a lighter lavender shade. Ones of those tiny flowers was supposed to have bloomed into a large floret to hold the potion like a teacup waiting for the consumer to sip from its petals. That was definitely not what was happening.

The thick tar that had become her potion bubbled with viscous splatters, those tiny droplets of rouge mixture clinking to the ground below it until (Y/N) swore the color was being sucked out of the lush grass. As much as she wanted to investigate the growing puddles of grey, the fact that the potion had begun moaning and groaning, screaming out in echoed whispers had the full of her attention. She could even make out faces appearing in the bottom of the bowl, the features looking something akin to the tragedy masks of Greek theater. 

Fear stunted her limbs as she watched the potion take on a life of its own, boiling until it overtook the crystalline bowl it was held in with spider-like limbs. The long reach of the spindly legs attached to the earth below, sucking the life out of the plots with the grass running grey and dying. The negative energy she was supposed to be banishing with the help of this potion was seemingly conjured instead, ready and willing to take from her as it sugglishly drew closer to her. With every scream of the potion, (Y/N) felt a zing go up her spine. 

Her breathing grew panicked as that anxiety-induced fight or flight reaction had be activated. How was she supposed to fix this? How was she supposed to kill energy? She could only get away from it. 

Even then, that seemed to be a struggle with the way she couldn't get to her shaky feet with her eyes trained on the sludge that was coming her way, terrified faces gaining more and more detail in the goo. 

She could only manage a tiny whimper out of her throat when one of the boney pulls of the potion attempted to reach for her ankle. 

The sound of her heart rushed through her ears, loud enough to make her aware of the beats per minute she was sporting, but no where near loud enough to drown out the freakish screams of the sludge. As a passing thought, she hoped Dande and Bonnie had made a getaway—their sensitive ears couldn't take this. 

As if she was performing another act of summoning, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar mountain lion appearing through the treeline. In tow was an even more familiar man, his eyes wild and hair pushed behind his ears as he looked down at where his shirt was caught in Bonnie's teeth. 

"Suns—" Harry's voice was cut off the second he caught sight of the debacle playing out in front of her, the protection spell he'd put over the meadow most likely drowning out the panicked screams of the potion for anyone who hadn't crossed into the clearing. She watched as he sized up the menace tearing towards her, the sentient potion gaining traction with each move, every blade of grass shriveling and losing color in its wake. 

Something shifted in his demeanor that (Y/N) never seen before, his jaw steeling and his shoulders squaring before he disregarded the pull of his pet. On heavy feet, he approached the out of control potion, confidence in every step. He never once seemed bothered by the seething negative energy that practically came off the concoction in waves, even going so far as to tamp splats of the potion out under the soles of his sunflower decorated boots. 

She wished she could have heard the spell that left his lips, but there was no way she was going to hear anything over the pounding of her heart and the agony that punched through her eardrums from her created monster. Still, she could see his lips moving, the low rumble of his voice as he held his hands out before him. A blinding light formed like beams of sunshine in the palms of his hands, rays touching the very edges of the potion. 

Harry spotted the source of the monster with a graze of his focused eyes before he flicked the sunlight towards the crystalline bowl. It was a delicate move, as if no thought had gone into it beforehand, but the destruction was intentional. The toxic screams of the potion transitioned into harrowing shrieks as the goo was burnt to ash. Flicks of sunlight were beamed over every inch of the rouge potion, getting rid of every evidence of the mishap—even the decaying grass came back to life—aside from the sheen of sparkling, purple ash that covered the ground. 

The cries tamped down until there was only silence, a shattered bowl, and ash left in the meadow. 

The light in Harry's hands died down as soon as he brought his palms together, his chest heaving though his face stayed stoic. The scene looked something serene as (Y/N) felt her rabbit-heartbeat settle in her chest. 

Her borrowed spell book was carefully laid out on the lush-again grass, the crystalline bowl was split right down the middle, and the used mortar and pestle were delicately placed on a tuft of grass. The moonlight bathed the moment in a cool blue tone, calming. Harry even seemed to be something of a statue, marble-esque if not for the rise and fall of his chest. 

He didn't turn to look at her, eyes trained in the same spot they had been since he spotted the monster.

Rising to her shaky legs, (Y/N) fisted her sweaty hands together as she tried to get a grip on her surroundings now that there wasn't the blockage of the insane screams clouding her thoughts. 

"Har—" 

It was as if her voice brought him to life, the way he turned on his heel. His hair flopped over his forehead with his jaw clenched tight. His nose flared as he let out a harsh breath. "(Y/N), what were you thinking?" he seethed through gritted teeth. 

Her eyes widened at his tone, never, ever having heard him speak like this. She floundered for a response, mouth dropping open though no sound came out. 

Harry took a stride towards her, eyes fierce. His aura flamed around him in raging crimson ribbons. "What were you thinking trying out a spell without me here?! There are dangerous things in that book, (Y/N)," he pointed accusingly at the spellbook opened behind him, "Do you even know what you just did? What you just conjured?" 

"Harry, I—" she squeaked, her voice falling flat as Harry shouted over her. 

"No, you don't! That thing could have killed you, (Y/N)!" His voice boomed through the meadow. (Y/N) wouldn't have been surprised if the walls of his cottage shook at the volume. 

"I-I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered, her words almost inaudible in comparison. 

She watched as he Flame all but shook with the anger inside him, his hands in tight fists at his sides with his muscles drawn taut. "Don't you ever go through my book again when I'm not here. Do you hear me, (Y/N)?" 

His authoritative tone drew a nod from her immediately. 

Silence befell the clearing once more, static filling the space as (Y/N) tried to ward off the tears burning her eyes. 

Sucking in a stunted breath, (Y/N) tried to find her words despite the heat of Harry's gaze pinned to her. "I-I didn't mean to, Harry," she choked out, "I promise I wasn't playing around with your book. I w-was only trying to make you one of those potions you make for me—something to help relax you and everything. I-I thought I picked an easy one, I'm sorry." 

All the air seemed to blow out of Harry's body. His shoulders deflated with the strong planes of his chest relaxing. The steel in his eyes lessened and lessened until there were only jade pools left, the clench of his jaw unwinding until his features were left sweetened and round. His aura dulled until nothing was left but a melancholy blue and the sickly green of fear. 

"C'mere, sunshine," he crooned, voice especially soft given the last time she had heard it. 

It didn't take a single thought for her to be launched into his arms, wrapping her own around his middle with her face tucked into his neck. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she wailed, her words a little mushed as she cried into his chest, "I'm so, so sorry." 

"I know you are. 'S okay, 's okay." His chest rumbled under her ear as he tired to soothe her. He pet his hand over her hair while the other arm stayed steady around her waist to keep her flush to his form. 

"I-I swear I was only trying to help," she pleaded, eyes clenched shut with tears rapidly leaking through, "I th-thought I did everything right." 

Harry held her tighter to his chest, pressing a lingering kiss to her hairline. "I know, lovely. Don't cry, okay? Everything's alright." 

"Bu-But you're mad at me," she hiccuped, clutching his shirt tightly in her fists, "I didn't me—" 

"I know—I promise, I believe you, sunshine. I know y'didn't mean to, and I forgive you, okay?" he cooed, using his grip on her waist to peel her away from his chest, "I'm not mad, alright? I jus' got really, really scared, but I shouldn't have shouted at you. Especially now knowing what y'were trying to do for me." 

"But, I should have waited for you," she whispered, the only volume she could manage without her voice giving out. 

Bringing his hand that had been caressing her hair to her cheek, Harry brushed the pad of his thumb over her skin in an affectionate run. "Y'should have, yeah," he smiled at her, the curl lopsided, "But I shouldn't have shouted at you like that, okay? 'M sorry." 

"It's okay," she peeped, a pathetic sniffle following. 

His face turned serious then, his hand cupping her cheek in his palm. "Can y'do something for me, lovely?" 

She only gave a quiet nod.

"You've got to promise me you'll never do anything like that ever again, okay? That really, really scared me, sunshine." Harry's voice cracked as he reached her petname. His eyes shone with tears as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I don't know what I would have done if Bonnie hadn't found me to get me up here faster. I don't ever want to have to think about that again, okay?" 

"I promise, I promise," she bubbled out, harsh sniffled sounding between her words, "I'm sor—"

Harry shook his head at her, petting her cheekbone with his thumb. "No more apologies, okay? I've forgiven you, just like you forgave me. We don't need to worry about that anymore. I jus' want to make sure you're alright now." His eyes scanned over her form, drawing down her body as much as he could without pulling away. "It didn't get you at all, right?" 

"No, no," she shook her head, a lump forming in her throat as the memory of the creature reaching towards her returned, "I-It tried, but you stopped it." 

"Thank the Moon," Harry murmured to himself, dropping a kiss to her forehead as he let out a sigh that fanned across her skin. 

He held her under the moonlight as she bundled herself against his chest, cooing to her with reassuring words and promises that everything was alright. He wasn't upset with her, he'd said, only scared. He loved her to bits and pieces, and he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he hadn't made it to her in time. He loved that she wanted to try something to help him, his sweet girl always doing anything to help him. He loved her, he told her after almost every sentiment, the declaration reciprocated in her watery tone each time. 

"Harry?" 

He hummed against her hairline, the tip of his nose skimming the messy strands piled on her head.

"Does this mean the universe is upset with me? Since I did bad magic?" According to the vague grip she had on the balance and rules that went into witchcraft, what she had done with the inky mass she created, she figured that balance would be out of wack now. Karma and all the things would be out to get her.

A smile could be felt against her skin, a huffed laugh ruffling her hair as Harry shook his head. "No, no, sunshine," he crooned, peeling back to get a look at her eyes, "She knows y'only had pure intentions, no reason to punish you over not knowing what y'were doing. You've got nothing to worry about with that, okay?" 

(Y/N) gave him a pathetic nod, exhaustion filling her limbs over the events of the last twenty minutes. Harry settled her against his chest, cheek smushed into his skin as he hugged her to him—her rock, she thought. 

"I made dinner, by the way," she peeped out, eventually having found her voice through her raw throat. 

"You did?" Harry chirped, a bright smile in his town she could hear and feel against the crown of her head. 

"Mhm," she hummed, the sound a bit nasally, "Jade noodles. I even made my own sauce and everything." 

"Stars," he sighed out, peeling away from her, "We can't let that go to waste then, can we?" 

Looking up at him, (Y/N) could see the sheen of recently shed tears that covered his eyes, sparkling just like the stars twinkling above him. His aura haloed his form in baby pinks and serene greens. He loved her, the confirmation in the shades. 

"No," she said, agreeing with him as she shook her head with a tiny smile.

"C'mon then, sunshine," he crooned, "Come eat with me, then we'll take a bath together, yeah?" 

Seeing him looking at her like that, full of adoration and devotion, (Y/N) almost felt like her plunder had been worth it. (The creature was really scary, though, so she wasn't sure anything could be worth that, but this was definitely, definitely up there on the list of things that could convince her). 

Knowing that he looked at her like that after doing nothing more than making dinner and a mess in his yard, it only reaffirmed to her that she would do anything for him. Even that.

—————

this was requested forever ago so thank you sm for being so patient bestie!! thank you all sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!!

[collecting-stories]

King of my Heart - Jay Halstead

Request: Hi! Can i request King Of My Heart with Jay Halstead?❤️ 

A/N: I just really like the idea of Jay with like a firefighter s/o. I think I've written like two other fics with him and a firefighter s/o, pretend they're all interconnected lol.

TS Anthology Series | One Chicago Masterlist

...is this the end of all the endings?...

Dating with your schedule was not easy. Finding time to actually connect with people outside of work was next to impossible, especially since you’d taken on some paramedicine shifts for Sylvie on your days off from the Firehouse.

While you were trying not to rush into things or make any assumptions about whether dating was the correct term, you’d been spending a lot of time with Jay in recent weeks. You’d volunteered to help at a city garden that Trudy helped organize and he’d been there too and you’d both sort of clicked (at least that’s how you described it to Stella later on because you were too hesitant to admit that Jay had pretty much stuck to your side that whole day and asked you for drinks immediately after).  

“I just don’t wanna like...move too fast.” You explained, pulling your shirt over your head and fixing your hair, “like, okay...what if it’s just supposed to be like a casual thing and I make it this big thing in my head that it isn’t? Then I feel stupid and I can never show my face when he’s around.” 

“Listen, if it’s casual, he’s the one who should feel stupid. You’re a total catch,” Stella replied, always ready to be your cheerleader when you were feeling insecure about something. “You are a total badass, you’re on Squad. You don’t need some guy and he’s lucky you’re giving him the time of day.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“I would!” Stella insisted, “you don’t need him, don’t feel like you need validation or something.” 

“I don’t. I’ll admit I’m okay single but, it is kinda nice having someone...I don’t know, want to put in the effort after a long shift. I mean, it’s not like we have easy jobs.” You replied, grabbing your duffel from the bench and slinging it over your shoulder. “I guess I just want some clarification. Are we dating? Is he thinking this could be something more serious? Is he even looking for something more serious?” 

“Are you?” She deadpanned as you both made your way out of the locker room. Most of the other third shift had left already but Stella had hung back with you while you showered, mostly to listen to you have a mini-crisis over your budding relationship with Jay.  

“I feel like I could be.” You shrugged, “that sounds stupid but like, sometimes I just look at him and think like, yeah I could do this every day of my life. That’s really fucking scary Stella...like...” 

You trailed off as you made it out onto the driveway and saw Jay’s pickup parked out front. He was standing there on the passenger side, leaning against the truck and when he saw you he smiled. Stella nudged your ribs playfully before giving you a silent wave goodbye and heading to her car.  

“Hey,” you called out as you got closer, “don’t you have work?”  

“Caught a double yesterday, just got off like an hour ago.” Jay replied, “Figured if you don’t have plans this morning you might wanna get breakfast?”  

“Oh my god yes, I’m starving,” you said, letting Jay take the bag off your shoulder and toss it in the back of his truck. “Herrmann has a new candidate and he offered to make dinner last night-” you shuddered and Jay laughed. 

“That bad?” 

“Terrible! And we ended up getting a call anyway so basically...no dinner.” 

Jay shot you a sympathetic look over middle console, “Shit baby, I’m sorry.” 

You felt yourself warm up at the sound of him calling you baby. You weren’t much for pet names but somehow hearing the word out of Jay’s mouth squashed all the worries you’d been keeping close to your chest.  

- 

“Jay!” You whispered, trying not to laugh and draw anyone’s attention, though most everyone in the house was asleep at this hour. Aside from Herrmann who had gotten stuck on night shift and was currently trying to keep his eyes open to reruns of Lets Make a Deal in the common room. He had ears like a hawk though and you knew he’d come snooping if he heard commotion. “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

Jay smiled against your neck, placing another kiss there before responding, “I don’t work here so technically...” 

“Well don’t get me in trouble then!” You replied, unable to stop a laugh from escaping this time as you bumped into the washing machine.  

It was nearly one in the morning when Jay had shown up at the firehouse, texting you and telling you to let him in the back door. He’d just gotten off work and you still had six more hours on shift but it was officially your six month anniversary and he was surprisingly sentimental. Although you weren’t sure that making out in the laundry room like two horny teenagers was exactly sentimental.  

You didn’t get much time to consider anything at all because the siren went off, the overhead voice alerting the firehouse, “Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambulance 61.” 

“I have to go,” you insisted, pulling away, “Jay, I have to go.”  

“I know, I know.” He let go of you, stepping away so you could head out to the apparatus. He followed behind you, careful to stay out of the way, stopping at the Squad table. 

“I knew I heard something!” Herrmann laughed, walking through the double doors with Ritter, “Sneaking around the firehouse like a couple a kids!”  

You did your best to ignore Herrmann as you geared up, stealing one more kiss from Jay, “I’ll see you after shift?” 

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up.” 

“Get in the rig lovebird!” Tony called out the window and you rolled your eyes before climbing up into the back with him and Capp.  

You couldn’t resist a last glance out the window as you pulled out into the street, Jay standing there with his hands in his pockets, watching you and grinning. By the time you got to the fire, you’d be clear headed and ready to work but until then, you’d let yourself be a little lovestruck.  

[megumi-fm]

26th to 30th Apr; doa🚲 complete!!

hi. gah. okay. here's my wrap up for the month

📝 prepped for and completed the last set of internal tests for this degree [2/2] (which I got through after much cribbing and whining and quite literally projecting study topics onto my blorbos 👍 ) 📝 started GRE prep!

🎓 got some gradecard related paperwork done 🎓 spoke to my prof regarding my internship deliverables for uni—report format, certificate requirements, etc etc

📥 I voted! it was the first central elections since I turned to an adult and the whole experience was quite interesting

💻 completed a bunch of tasks for my internship

💻 made like a super extensive flowchart about all the work done at my internship which took me like a total of 20+ hours T-T 💻 finished preparing my Uni Internship presentation! 💻 submitted the presentation to the assistant guide, waiting on her response to make changes atm

🍶 7+ glasses of daily water intake 🎵 svt's new single is out and I've been going insane about it and thus this challenge comes to an end... I had started this off as an 18day daily habit tracker but then it kind of grew out into a challenge for the month. Special thanks to Yumi the loml <3 (@thelastneuron) for starting the Days of April challenge (Yumi idk when you'll see this but i miss you and I hope you've been kicking ass during your hiatus). also massive thanks to Zip (@zipstidbits) for leaving the kindest comments/tags on my post during the past week and to Tanishka (@booksbluegurl) who is literally the sweetest and has been sending in asks and keeping me company during this challenge <3

there's a lot more i wanna yap about in regards to how the month went but I'll leave that under the tags xD goodnight besties <3

month end brainrot

april started off with dips and more dips but by the end of the month it feels like I've caught up. productivity is a wave so as long as I keep riding at it i'll be okay.

also. progress is cumulative. even the seemingly inconsequential completion of daily tasks has lead to an overall improvement through the week. things add up

I spent a lot of time this month (and moreso this past week) feeling dejected that I've been leaving my tracker posts (and my digital planner entries) incomplete... but like. the whole point of trackers and planners (and this studyblr) is to get work done. work is the priority and the tracking is a means to an end. so if im getting work done that is already a win. yeah... i've had to keep reminding myself that

there is no one-tool-fix for tracking and journalling. what works for planning out one task will not work for the other. I need to strop trying to fit all my plans into one formulaic strategy box

on that note. it's time to return to handwritten journaling. digital journalling (notion + YPT + discord + tumblr) was fun while it lasted <3 but my brain needs novelty again so it's time i switch back. I think I finally have an idea for a system that could be sustainable for me... although I say that every time I switch to a new form of tracking. but hey. as long as it helps me get work done for whatever duration of time, it's good enough

using kpop and kdrama references to make notes and study really paid off. ngl I only did it cause I was super desperate but incorporating stuff I couldn't understand with a topic I really like paid off. It also gave me the motivation and momentum to study for much longer than I otherwise would have

last but not least. my water intake has been really good this month! I've also been eating healthy and I've been cooking more my phone usage has also been reduced by a lot. sure none of them have had a perfect streak but i started at zero and it feels like I've levelled up quite a bit. the exercise component has been a bit difficult to maintain given my workload :/ i need to figure out what to do about that...

yep. that's it for now. this month really tired me out, I think im gonna lay off daily challenges for a while. For now I guess I'll stick to my (bi?tri?)weekly tracker posts xD