#detective abe imagine
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all I know of love is how to live without it
Eddie Roundtree × Fem!Reader
djats masterlist
word count: 1.9k
summary: Eddie's used to being second place, everywhere from the science projects he did in middle school to the one Camilla wouldn't choose. you show him that he's always your no.1.
Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered vour fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more eddie fics xoxo
"But the dude still wouldn't leave me alone, so I called Eddie over and was like 'I told you I have a boyfriend, see?' But he still didn't believe me, said he would've seen it in the tabloids if I was taken. Eddie got right in his face about it and then he finally left me alone." Graham laughed through every word you said, the two of you huddled in a corner of the room, it pack with so many people that if you'd wanted to move it would've been hard anyway. When he'd first found you about an hour ago, you'd told him to carry on in his travels, quite content to stand alone and people watch, but Graham insisted, not wanting to leave you alone in the crowd.
"Where is Eddie?" He asked, eyes scanning around the room in search of your partner in crime. Now that you'd thought about it, you'd not seen him in a while - he'd said he was going to grab himself another drink and then seemingly disappeared. "I don't think I've seen him since we got here."
"Yeah, me either." You scanned your eyes across the room once more, not seeing his tufts of blonde hair anywhere. "I'm gonna go look for him, if that's okay."
"You know it is." Graham assured you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, leaning down so you could hear his next words better over the commotion. "I'm gonna get another drink, come find me if you can't find him."
With a nod, you left the brunettes side, beginning your search for the blonde who you were 80% was crashed on a couch somewhere.
3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and 6 laps of the main room later you still hadn't found him. You'd bumped into Graham twice who told you to give up on your search and enjoy your evening, and the rest of the members of the six at least once - spare Eddie himself.
In your attempt to scan through the room once more, you walked straight into Camilla, grabbing her by her elbow to make sure she didn't fall over at your sudden connection. "Cami, I'm so sorry I didn't see you."
"It's okay, y/n, don't worry about it."
"You okay?" You asked, noticing a slight sniffle to Camilla's words. Billy could be a dick, so you wouldn't be surprised if he'd said something to her that he really shouldn't have. The words didn't need to be said out loud, a silent conversation shared between the two of you in a matter of seconds between your eyes alone.
You pulled her in for a brief hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Don't let it ruin your night. You look hot as shit." Camilla broke into a smile at your words, whatever she had been worked up over melting from her features in an instant. "Go. Have fun. Get drunk. Who cares."
Camilla pulled you in for the hug this time, though only briefly, allowing you to pull away when you whispered a promise to find, and do shots with her, when you'd found what you were looking for.
As Camilla walked past you, you noticed a door behind where she'd stood that you hadn't seen before, leading out onto the balcony - promising to yourself that if Eddie wasn't here, you'd just get on with your night and question him about it the next morning.
Thankfully, the man of the hour was on the other side of the door, his forearms resting on the balcony's fence as he looked out over the city "You!" You cheered, steeping down onto the balcony and approaching Eddie where he stood at its far end, his eyes downcast and a half-assed smile on his face. "I have been looking everywhere for you! You said you were going to get a drink and you disappeared on me! What happened?"
You planted your arms firmly on the railing next to him, leaning down and forward to get a good look at his face which haven't moved since you'd come out to the balcony. Eddie's dejected expression had you freezing, realising the joyful disposition you'd entered the scene with may have not been entirely appropriate.
"Ed's." You reached out a hand for his arm, finally gaining his attention, though his eyes still head a far off look to them. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm fine." He immediately deflected, though the fact that his eyes still couldn't meet yours told you otherwise. "Really."
"I don't believe you." You bent at the knee, tilting your head and trying to get a better look at his face once more. "What happened, Ed's."
It wasn't a question this time; a gentle command for him to talk about, share what was on his mind. A problem shared is a problem halved was a saying you'd been raised on, and you weren't going to falter on that sentiment now.
"I'm fine." That wasn't what you'd asked. "Just go back inside I'll be back in in a minute."
"Eddie." Turning to face him entirely, you leant your side against the railing, one arm on top of it and one reaching out for his hand. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
Eddie still didn't answer you, his jaw locking and his hands gripping the railing tighter as he stared out at the city believe you.
"We don't have to talk about it." You whispered, moving closer to him as you spoke, the music from inside seeping out onto the balcony at its deafening volume. "But I'm here if you decide you want to, if you need someone to listen."
"You'll be there for me?" You couldn't tell what cogs were turning in Eddie's head, what motivated him to finally speak up and ask such a question, but you were glad he was talking. That was a step in the right direction, into finding out what upset him so much.
"Yeah." You answered honestly, no strings attached or conditions to your words. "Always, Ed's."
That seemed to be enough for Eddie for the moment, and you didn't plan on pushing him to talk about it, so you took the opportunity to slip back inside. Running from the balcony door and into the kitchen, you picked up two bottles of beer and ran straight back, not wanting to leave Eddie alone for too long now that he'd began to open up about whatever was bothering him.
"You're back?" Eddie asked when he heard the door creaking open. "What about the party?"
"Everyone else can wait." You answered, offering him one of the beers you'd grabbed cautiously, like he was a wounded animal you were afraid to startle. "You need me. That's all that matters now."
Though Eddie wasn't in the mood for smiling, he could feel one trying to curl onto his lips. He revelled in the quiet shared between the two of you, thankful that you were willing to be patient with him, let him deal in his own time.
"You remember that science fair project we did in the 8th grade?" Eddie asked out of nowhere, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between the two of you. You took another sip of your beer, turning to him with a confused look on your face. "What did you think of it?"
"Think it was stupid." You muttered, looking at the late night city lights as you thought back on something that felt like a whole other life ago. This where different then, you were different then, and you couldn't quite place when everything had changed. "It still keeps me up at night that Graham won and not us."
While it was definitely an over exaggeration, it elicited a laugh from Eddie - something you'd been hoping to achieve since the moment you'd noticed the crestfallen look on his face.
"It was only because he stole Billy's winning project from the year before too!" You whined, remembering the events more clearly now that Eddie had brought it up. "That cheeky little- I'm so gonna convince him he owe me $50 in the morning."
"What? Why?" Eddie asked, mind now focused on your confusing words more then Camilla breaking his heart.
"I don't know, reparations for the win we deserved or something. I'll split it with you, 30:20."
"Why am I getting $20? Why not $25 each?" Eddie whined, his full body now turned to face you, one arm supporting his weight against the railing while the other held his beer.
"No, no. You'd get the $30. I did jack shit in that project. You did all the hard work."
"Couldn't have done it without you though, y'know." Eddie said in complete earnest, some kind of realisation settling over him as the pair of you dwelled on the memory from a life time ago. It was weirdly poetic in a sense, how even back then, before the band and everything, you stood by his side when a Dunne was breaking his heart in some capacity, put the pieces back together even when he didn't ask you too - or tell you it's what he needed.
"Still can't do shit without out now." The words came out in a teasing way, but you could tell Eddie was trying to mask the sentimental value to them. The two of you had been two peas in a pod as long as you could remember, you could read him like a book even when he didn't want you too.
"You know you could." You teased right back, feeling comfortable enough to knock your shoulder against his now that the mood had shifted to a happier one. "You just don't want to."
"Yeah I don't think I do." Eddie let you rest your head on his shoulder, one of your arms wrapping around his bicep while the other wrapped around his forearm in a makeshift hug. "Don't think I ever do, birdie."
"There's my Eddie." You cooed, so casually that it sent Eddie brain whirring. He knew he was nowhere near ready to open up his heart again, but you'd already wriggled your way in so long ago that it felt natural. Something about being your Eddie was something he thought he could get used to, but that wasn't something he wanted to unpack today. "Come back inside."
"Since you asked so nicely." Your arms stayed wrapped around Eddie's as you re-entered the party, weaving your way through the crowd in search of Graham who you'd all but abandoned earlier. He was easy to find, towering over the crowds of people, and he kept himself in good company, introducing you to the group he'd surrounded himself with and you and Eddie finding conversation with them easy.
Though Eddie had a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eye, his entire demeanour had changed since you first found him on the balcony, and that was enough for you.
The rest of the night went quickly, people coming and going from your group, but you, Eddie and Graham sticking together for the rest of the evening. Eddie added his own opinion to the conversation every now and then, but spent most of the night taking in the feeling of your arms around his; thinking about how he must have been someone good in his last life to deserve such an angel as you in this one.
#djats imagine#djats x reader#daisy jones and the six imagine#daisy jones and the six x reader#eddie loving x reader#eddie roundtree#eddie roundtree oneshot#detective abe imagine#eddie roundtree imagine#eddie roundtree x reader#eddie loving onehsot#eddie loving imagine#eddie loving
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imagining a kim pov because it really is just. what if you met a bear who was so so pathetic and he keeps talking about voices in his head and he's wearing green snakeskin heels. and he's a good detective even if he doesn't know what a car is or what money is, but even so youre reluctantly charmed cause youre a member of the homosexual underground which is a real phrase you will voluntarily say. and then he gets shot and you have to watch over him for 2 days while you have a concussion and the only reason you have a concussion and not a gunshot wound of your own is because of the aforementioned bear (AB). and then what if you and AB caught a murderer and while you're interrogating him a giant bug cryptid unfolds itself from the reeds. and starts studying you. and the AB goes completely silent and is just staring at this bug god. and also you can't even say you're completely surprised by the bug cryptid because the AB had spent the past few days on a side quest that you thought was ridiculous bc how would a bug cryptid be connected to the murder and also there was no way it was real right. but then it turns out it is real and it was sort of connected to the murder. and as if that isn't enough, completely unbeknownst to you, the bug god is telling the AB that he needs to get over his ex in the name of communism. and then what if you smash cut from that transcendental experience to a hyper charged workplace conflict showdown where you find out the AB used to be a gym teacher. and your clever response to that is mentioning the girth of his biceps out loud where he can hear you. and then you agree to come work with the AB despite the deeply dysfunctional workplace dynamics you just witnessed and the bone-chilling realization that if the AB doesn't know about cars or money then he definitely doesnt know what bisexuality is. and you're going to be the one who has to explain it to him.
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๋࣭ ⭑ bad period cramps. bsd x reader
gender: gender neutral
type: headcanons
characters: poe, ranpo, dazai, chuuya, atsushi, and akutagawa
warnings: unedited writing, cursing, ooc characters(?), misspelt words :(
๋࣭ ⭑ edgar allen poe 🖋
"oh, dear..." he whispered to himself.
there you were. clutching your stomach tight, your head thrown back on the large sofa cushions.
you were silenty sitting their, suffering. there were some fresh and dry tears falling down your face.
he watched your from afar, watching you taking deep breaths in and out.
he saw pills on the drawer and a un-plugged heating pad that has fallen of you stomach, he assumed you were using it from your stomach.
"y/n..dear?" he called out, your head turning toward him. he locked eyes with your glossy ones has he walked toward you from the door.
when he reached you and knealt down close to your head, karl jumped off his shoulder and jumped onto the arm of the couch and huddled in on himself.
before he could reach his hand over and rub your stomach, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your stomach.
he smiled softly and started to rub, "you told me you were fine..." he sighed sadly, his cheek leaning against the arm of the couch that your head pillow was resting on.
you whined at the pain again before smiling softly, "i'm sorry, dear...:
"do you need anything?" he asked, looking up at you as he waited for a response.
you shake your head, "you're all i need right now.."
๋࣭ ⭑ ranpo edogawa 🔍
"it hurts!"
"i know.."
"it's hurts so damn much!"
"i could only imagine..:
"ranpo!" you whined, leaning your head against the work desk you at in. ranpo was sitting on the table across from yours, you and him the only ones in the room.
it was only hour 3 of your full day shift at the agency and you already want to bury yourself six feet under.
the detective eyed you, sucking on his lolipop.
he squints his eyes, watching you clutch your stomach tight and moving side to side slowly.
"then why did you come to work today?" he asked, the lolipop still in his mouth.
you sighed, leaning your head up and rested it on your palm.
"because kunikida will literally have my head if i'm not in...but i don't want to tell him about my period cramps because their embbarssing!"
and your head was back on the desk.
ranpo dug a hand into his pockets on his pants pulled out another sucker. he hoped off the table with a 'hmft!' and waltzed toward your suffering body and tapped your head with the lolipop.
you looked up from the desk, "it always helps me when i'm in pain." he winked, handing it to you and circled around you.
before you could say anything, you felt him lift the chair up and pratically knock you off.
"ah! ranpo-?"
he shuts your mouth with his own sucker and smiled, "you go home and relax, i'll let kunikida know you left early."
"but..i can't just.."
"yup! yes you can, because i said you can! don't worry, i'll talk with kunikida.."
but talk he means just say you left because of period cramps
he kissed your lips and winked, "now go, i got this."
๋࣭ ⭑ osamu dazai 🩹
"awh~ is my belladonna on their period~?" dazai asked, kneeling down close to your face, which was smushed up against the pillow of your shared bed.
almost pratically making out with it, thats how close you were to it.
you groaned loudly into the pillow hearing your boyfriends words.
he watched you enter the apartment with your bag hugged against your stomach, and small tears dared to fall from the corner of your eyes.
without a word, you stomped into the bedroom and slammed the door. dazai smiled to himself, stirring the tea he held in his hand, hot and ready for you to drink. however...you never even noticed he was here.
that was, until he walked in the room a couple minutes later with two cups of tea for him and you.
he's stands up striaght, walking toward the door to switch off the light. with a click, the room turned dim, the only light was the evening sunlight and the screensaver on the TV that hung high above the ground.
"you do know...a hot bath could help~?" of course, he meant that in a way to calm you down and show you a bright side, however you could'nt help but blush slightly hearing it come out of his mouth like that.
he waited for you to reply, walking back toward you, however you said nothing and just shrugged.
he said nothing as well as he laid in bed with you, however he laid on his back while you lied on your stomach.
"don't put to much pressure on it." he said, talking about your stomach. "it's better to have something soft and light on it..."
he smiled as he watched you slowly turn on your side and cuddle into his side. he followed you, mirroring your actions and grabbed a pillow and gently placed it on your stomach and rubbed the top and back of your head.
sooner or later, you fell asleep...getting a good talking to from kunikida for sleeping in late the next morning.
๋࣭ ⭑ chuuya nakahara 🍷BESTFUCKINPARTNERPLZ-IWANTHHIM
"does it hurt that bad? chuuya asked softly, rubbing your stomach gently as you laid in between his legs. your back was resting against his chest, feeling his heart beat once, then twice...and so forth.
you whined softly, grabbing his wrists, following his hands as he rubbed your stomach.
he kissed your ear when he saw a tear fall from your eye and down your cheek.
"sshh.." he shushed your, his breath tickling your ear.
"it hurts!" you cried, resting your head on his shoulder. "it hurts fucking hurts.."
"i know..." he whispered, "i know, baby."
over an hour went by with your cramps literally killing you, and in the moment chuuya's been thinking of ways to help.
you've had period cramps before, and chuuya's been there for you when he's not at work or has a break, or as a day off!
he hates seeing you in pain. when your hurt, he's hurt 10x worse.
he leaned forward, you being forced to follow in his actions and watched him pull out a towel from the drawer.
"i can run you a warm bath? relaxing your muscles should help with your cramps." chuuya said, rubbing your stomach once again before kissing your temple.
"can we havce mcdonalds for dinner?" you looked up at him with pouty lips, your knees close to your chest.
he chuckled, "your a sucker for them fries, aren't you?"
he taps your butt, "now, go get changed! i'll get the bath ready."
before he could leave, once he stepped out of bed he kissed your lips real quick.
"i love you.."
"i love you, too..."
๋࣭ ⭑ atsushi nakajima 🐅
"do you really not need anything else, y/n? a heating pad? food? i can make you some chicken soup? how about more pads? tampons? i have trouble going to the store and grabbing you some-"
"atsushi!" you snapped, cudding closer to him and rubbing his arm as he held you like a baby in his lap.
he shuts up real quick, rubbing your sides and stomach gently to calm the pain.
"sorry...i just-" he sighed, kissing your cheek before talking again, "i hate seeing you in pain..."
you were quiet for a moment, resting your head to his chest near his heart, taking a breath in and out feeling the sharp pain in your abdomen again.
"i know baby, i'm sorry, i know your trying to help.." you whispered, feeling his chin move a little on your head.
atsushi leaned his back against the bedframe of your shared room and apartment.
"can i be honest?" you asked, and your boyfriend hummed in response, his eyes closed as he rubbed your stomach in a circle.
"having you here is much more then i need to feel better..."
you closed your eyes after saying this, your legs tangled up with atsushi's.
he blushed slightly hearing your words, however he smiled and kissed your temple, leaving his lips there for a little bit bfore putting his chin back on your head.
"i'm gald...i love you."
you smiled, eyes still closed, "i love you more.."
๋࣭ ⭑ akutagawa ryūnosuke 🩸
"i don't know how to hold you..." he spoke nothing but the truth.
he sat criss-cross on your bed while you were lying on his lap, your head basically in between his legs near his thighs.
he had his hands in the air, almost like he was meditating, which made you laugh despite the sudden pain in your stomach.
"just.." you took his hand and placed it on your head, moving it up and down for him.
he froze, feeling a blush creep up to his face but he covered it with his free hand, coughing and looking toward the open window of your apartment.
once you let go of his hand and rested them on your stomach, he rubbed his fingers into your hair and skull.
you smiled happily, melting to his touch.
he was quiet for a moment, listening to the sound of your breathing.
"i'm sorry...i don't know how to help you properly..." he confessed, feeling bad he can't do more for you.
you almost forgot to respond, feeling his other hand rest on your shoulder and gently rub it.
you scruched your shoulder up when he got close to your neck, and pulled away both hands in fear he may have hurt you.
"aku~..." you laughed, leaning up and pushing yourself closer to him, taking his hands and smiled, "you being here to at least try and help me is all i need from you."
he kissed your lips out of embbaressement and leaned his forehead to yours.
"i only wish i could help you more.."
you thought for a moment,
"pay for my takeout, take a bath with me, and you've done everything to help me!"
"anything!"
#๋࣭ ⭑ rue writes 🖋#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs#bungou gay dogs#bsd#bsd x y/n#bsd x gender neutral reader#edgar allen poe#edgar allen poe x reader#poe x reader#ranpo edogawa#ranpo edogawa x reader#ranpo x reader#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#dazai x reader#osamu dazai x reader#chuuya nakahara#nakahara chuuya#chuuya x reader#atsushi nakajima#nakajima atsushi#atsushi nakajima x reader#atsushi x reader#akutagawa ryuunosuke#ryuunosuke akutagawa#bsd imagines#bsd headcanons
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The thief & the detective
Just an idea that's been sitting on my mind for a while: cat burglar mc x detective Miguel?!
I split up part 1 just because it got really long 🫠 and I also only have a few bits and pieces for part 2, so please comment/message me if you have anything you'd like to see in part 2!
P.S. I TOTALLY forgot to post the pic above the first time I posted this, but I just imagine him looking at her like this when she asks him to go shower and it drives me crazy!!!!! 😭 Unfortunately, I CANNOT remember where I found this pic, so if anyone knows, PLEASE let me know so I can credit the artist appropriately!!! I'm so sorry!!!
Part 1a
Part 1b
Part 2
Warnings: explicit descriptions of sex including penetration (p in v).
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“Shit, Miguel,” she breathed, curling herself around him as she tried to catch her breath. She pressed her lips to his shoulder and brushed them along his broad muscles, kissing and nibbling on him lazily. Then she moaned into the crook of his neck, her soft breasts pressing against his hard chest as she began moving her hips against his slowly. He felt so big beneath her, his c*ck thick and warm, already starting to harden as she ground herself into him. He groaned as his head fell back against the headboard, then he dug his fingers into her ass, pulling her harder against him. She laughed at his desperation, her head falling back to expose the delicate column of her neck. “So impatient, detective.”
He licked a line up her throat, then buried his face in the crook of her neck, his fingers continuing to knead her soft flesh.
“M’not impatient,” he mumbled, sliding his arms all the way around her and moving his hips in time to hers. “Just tryna be fair. I already gave you what you wanted. Isn’t it my turn now?” He lifted his head to tug on her earlobe with his teeth before grazing them along the underside of her ear, nibbling on her warm skin. X trailed her fingers down his chest, brushing them teasingly against the tip of his d*ck when she reached it.
“What do you want from me, detective?” she asked him playfully, cupping his cheek in her hand when he pulled back to look at her. Her eyes fell to his lips and she pressed hers to them gently, her touch featherlight. “What should I take from you this time?” She grinned and curled her fingers around his c*ck before finally closing the distance between their mouth and kissing him. He wound his tongue around hers as she pumped his c*ck in her hand, overwhelmed by the taste and feel of her all around him.
“Why don’t you …” he panted in between hungry kisses, his hands running all over her soft little body, “try giving me … something for once?” He squeezed her breast gently and she squealed into his mouth at the feeling, her head falling back with pleasure. He grinned at the sound and moved his lips to her throat, his legs starting to twitch as she continued to slide her fingers all over his c*ck.
Holy shit! He was so hot when he smiled, his fiery eyes creasing at the corners, his lush lips curling at the ends, his cute little fangs peeking out at her. She pressed her lips back to his, their teeth clashing as the both of them smiled between kisses. “That’s not how this game works, detective.”
She moaned as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair and she wriggled her body against his. He squeezed her against him, then bit on her lip before loosening his hold on her, letting her move her mouth to his shoulder. She pressed her lips to his skin, trailing them down his chest and abs until she was lying in between his legs, her beautiful eyes peeking up at him from beneath her curly lashes as she angled his c*ck to her mouth. She maintained eye contact as she pressed soft kisses to his tip, gradually pulling him deeper into her mouth with each quick peck. He gripped onto the bed sheets as she sucked on him slowly, her tongue tracing the veins in his c*ck delightfully.
“F*ck,” he breathed, his hips lifting off the bed to start thrusting himself into her mouth. He sucked in a breath when he hit the back of her throat, her pretty little moans sending vibrations all along his c*ck and down to his core. Ay, coño, she felt good. She bobbed her head up and down, dragging him out of her mouth. Then she climbed back onto his lap and slipped him inside of her, rolling her hips carefully to ease him in.
“Holy shit, Miguel!” she sighed, delighting in the way he was filling her up so nicely. “You’re so … frickin’ big.” She scrunched her fingers in his hair and flopped over onto his shoulder, the bed shaking as he took over and thrust himself into her.
“Mmm, Miguel …” she sighed, whining into his neck in a way that had him tightening his hold on her. Mierda, she was cute, small and soft in his arms, his tiny little gatita.
“Miguel,” she repeated, straightening to look at the way the sweat-slicked strands of his hair fell in his eyes as he bounced her up and down in his lap. She cupped his cheek in her hand, brushing her thumb along the sharp line of his jaw. “You'll come visit me … won't you? Every day? You know I can't live without you, mi Miguelito.”
She tried to give him a pout, to make herself seem all helpless and vulnerable. But then he hit that one spot that had her eyes rolling back in her head with pleasure. He bent over and kissed his way up her neck, his lips landing on hers when she lowered her head back down again. He kissed her hungrily, holding onto the back of her head to keep her in position so he could tangle his tongue with hers. “Mmm, gatita … This isn't some … last ditch attempt … to get out of jail … is it?”
“No,” she replied, pulling back from him to look at the glazed look in his eyes. She brushed her fingers across his cheek, marvelling at how unfairly handsome he was, with his strong brow and his sharp jawline and his rugged looks. “Not if you’ll come … visit me … everyday … detective.” She wasn’t lying - she really would go crazy if she had to be locked up in a cell without getting to see his gorgeous face at least once a day, hear his mocking voice at least once an hour, brush her fingers along his skin at least once a night. And that was before she knew how delicious he felt beneath her. How would she ever survive without him now?
He glided his hands up her back, relishing the feeling of her smooth skin beneath his rough palms, the sweat dripping off her from how much he'd teased and pleasured her already. If he was being really honest, he didn't think he'd be able to survive without her either: her witty retorts, her bright smile, the way she always challenged him to be the very best version of himself. Joder, he might have been falling in love with her. His stomach curdled at the thought of her being locked up in a cell, at the thought of never seeing her again, hearing her voice, feeling her skin against his. He'd find a way; he'd find a way to get her out of there. Maybe with a plea deal, a bargain of some sort. She leaned forward and pulled his lip between hers, nipping at it quickly before letting him go. He groaned at the feeling and she giggled with delight, her warm p*ssy throbbing around his d*ck so desperately.
“I have … a better idea … detective.” She grabbed onto his hair and pulled his head back, delighting in the dazed look on his face as he glanced up at her. She grinned and licked his lips quickly before relaxing her hold on him, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder as he bounced her up and down on his length.
“Why don’t you … lock me up … instead?” she suggested, her hands sliding over his shoulders and chest as she tried to maintain her balance on top of him. She curled herself around him, leaning forward and rolling her hips so that her clit was brushing up against his abdomen, adding onto her pleasure. “At your place? I could … I could be your … good little gatita? And you could … c-come back e-every night … after work? And ‘d-discipline’ m-me.”
She bit his ear and he growled and tightened his grip on her at the idea. Carajo, he should have f*cked her ages ago; maybe then he could have saved her, helped her lead a better life. “Don't tempt me, gatita.”
Shit. His voice was so low now that she could feel the vibrations buzzing through his chest every time he spoke. It drove her crazy, her nipples tingling with delight at how so very aroused he was by her.
“Please, Miguel?” she whimpered helplessly, her eyes widening with innocence as she gazed up at him. “¿Para mí? ¿Para tu … pequeña gatita buena?” (For me? For your good little kitten?)
“¡Ay, coño, gatita!” His head rolled back with pleasure as he felt his core tightening at her words, at the pretty little look she gave him. She let out a loud moan as he prodded at that one spot inside of her, then fell over him, her lips landing back on his. He lowered himself onto the bed as he twisted his tongue around hers, lying back so she was on top of him. She pushed herself up, her hair tickling his shoulders as she leaned over him, and he brushed it away from her face, his fingers drifting down her neck and breasts.
“Would you really stay with me, mi gatita traviesa?” he asked. (... my naughty kitten?) “Would you do what I told you to? Turn over a new leaf?” Maybe she wasn’t entirely past saving, if she was willing to give it all up for him. She bit her lip, losing her focus as her body prepared itself to come.
“For you, Miguel?” She nodded dazedly. “Anything.” Maybe he wasn’t completely past ruining, if he was willing to give it all up for her. She let out a squeak as she came on top of him, her body flopping over his and writhing around in his arms as her p*ssy squeezed his d*ck. He sucked in a breath at the sensation, then he was coming too, his c*ck releasing his c*m into her, his hands gripping onto her ass as he let the warm liquid seep out of him and into her. He sighed when he was done, his hands sliding up her back to stroke her gently as she panted on top of him. Then he turned her over onto her side, slinging a muscular arm over her. They lay like that for a while, the room filled with the sounds of their shallow gasps as they both tried to catch their breaths. Finally, she wriggled out from beneath his grasp, getting up off the bed and gathering her hair over shoulders.
“I’m going to take that shower now.” She glanced over at the entrance to the bathroom, then returned her gaze to him, her stomach flipping at the way his eyelids lowered as he trailed his gaze over her body. “You gonna come make sure I don’t run away, detective?”
He sighed and pushed himself off the bed, the muscles in his arms and back flexing so deliciously. He walked over to her and tapped her on the ass lightly, pushing her in the direction of the bathroom.
“Vamos, gatita.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, pushed up against the wall as he pounded his d*ck into her. “Yes! Holy shit, Miguel! You feel … so good.” He held onto her waist, his hard chest pressing into her back as he thrust himself into her from behind. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it; the way her p*ssy took him in so very nicely, constantly throbbing around his c*ck, begging him for more. He raised one hand to brace himself against the wall and slid the other up to cup her breast, squeezing her soft flesh in his hands and pulling her back against him. He growled and nipped at her ear before pressing his lips to the side of her neck, moaning against her with pleasure. F*ck, she felt good.
“Miguel,” she breathed, her ass bouncing against his thighs as she shook beneath him. “Wait. I wanna … see your face … when I come for you.” He was so big and so warm, his body all nice and firm as he wrapped himself around her. She didn’t think she’d ever get sick of it; the way his c*ck stretched her out and filled her up, his tip hitting that one spot that had her body slumping over in relief. He lifted her up easily and spun her around, sliding her back onto his c*ck before starting up his thrusts again. He was so handsome, his dark locks dripping with sweat and water, the damp strands falling into his beautiful copper eyes as he gazed down at her. And then whenever he bit his lip? His cute little fangs pressing into his full and soft bottom lip? Shit, it drove her mad!
She really was beautiful, her curly eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, her rosy lips parting in that blissed out look as her head fell back with pleasure. P*ta madre, she was cute. He sucked in a breath as she came around him, her tight little p*ssy pulling on him and milking him into her as he reached his climax too. He held her up against the wall, his head falling onto her shoulder as he relieved himself inside of her, the warm water falling onto his back adding on to his pleasure-filled release. Then he nipped at her ear before brushing his lips along her neck. “Mmm, X.”
Shit! She could have come again just from the way he moaned her name, his voice thick with satisfaction as he nibbled and licked at her neck. But then he was sliding her off of him and setting her back down, his hands keeping her upright as her knees wobbled beneath her. She turned around to kiss him, to taste him one more time as he ran his hands along her skin, cleaning her up. And then he was shutting the tap off and wrapping her up in one of the plush white hotel towels hanging on the rack by the sink. She sighed as she dried herself up before returning back to the bedroom, her steps shaky from the way her legs refused to close. She glanced over at the two beds, her stomach roiling with nerves as she felt him come up behind her. Then she rearranged her features into a cheeky expression and injected as much mischief as she could into her voice when she next spoke.
“You … want to make sure I don’t run away in the night, detective?” Her eyes were a little too wide as she patted the bed beside them, her smile stretched a little too thin. She didn’t want to part with him just yet - was terrified of the thought of having to wake up tomorrow and be torn away from him. And if he were being honest, he was maybe a little terrified of that too. He sighed as she pushed her towards the bed, feigning irritation at the thought of being stuck with her again. But she just bounced over to the bed happily, crawling under the covers and snuggling up against him when he slid in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her soft body as she laid her head on his chest, the both of them enjoying the moment of solitude in each other’s arms. She reached up to run her fingers through his hair after a while, breathing in the warm, masculine scent of him she’d come to know so well.
“I didn’t do it because I wanted to. Not at first, anyway,” she admitted softly, her slender fingers scratching his scalp gently. “But then it felt so good. And then I met you. And I couldn’t stop then.” She tilted her head back to look up at him, her dark eyes tracing over his sharp features, memorising the shape of his face. He ran his fingernails along her back and she purred at the feeling, settling herself back around him like a little cat.
“You know there are easier ways to ask a guy out. Right, gatita?” he teased her, lips curling into a wicked smirk.
“Would you go out with me, Miguel?” she asked him quietly. He considered her question, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
“I would have if you’d asked me earlier.” Before we’d met each other; before I did everything in my power to catch you and you did everything in yours to escape. But then he’d never have known her, would he? She trailed her fingers along his skin, tracing the sculpted outlines of his muscles.
“What about now?” She stretched up to press her lips to his collarbone, her body twisting to lie on top of his as she mumbled into his skin. “Will you go out with me tomorrow?”
She pressed a kiss to the base of his throat before snuggling herself back into his arms, her voice getting softer as she started drifting off into sleep. “Or next week, maybe? Then I’ll have enough time to make my great escape.”
He continued to stroke her gently, even after she’d fallen asleep, his mind running wild with a list of ways he might possibly get her out of this. He believed her about not wanting to do it: she came from a poor background, the only thing she’d ever really owned was her own name. And what a price she’d put on it. And besides, she never stole from those who couldn’t afford it - it was always spoilt businessmen whose money was already just rotting away in the bank anyway. Plus, they never could track anything she’d stolen, or the money she’d received from it - probably because she always distributed it amongst the poor. A modern day Robin Hood. His thoughts blurred together as he felt himself start to drift off as well, his brain still working to come up with a way to save her.
He woke up the next morning confused, unused to his familiar surroundings. Then he remembered: the governor’s personal suite, his gatita, finally trapped in his grasp. And then, her body, soft and warm against his, her lips sweet and lush, her taste intoxicating. His stomach bubbled with excitement at the thought of the plan he’d come up with last night; he couldn’t wait to share it with her, couldn’t wait to- He pat the bed, trying to find her soft curves and her messy curls. But she wasn’t there. Was she in the bathroom? He flung the covers aside and leapt out of bed, his panic growing worse when he saw the door open, the toilet empty. And then he saw the note on the bedside table, neatly placed atop her carefully arranged underwear.
‘Lo siento, mi Miguelito, but you can’t keep a cat locked up, no matter how much they love you. See you for our date next week! Te amo, tu gatita traviesa, X.’ (I love you, your naughty kitten, X.) She’d sealed it with a kiss too, her rosy lipstick imprinted on the corner of the note. He crumpled her underwear in his hand, the rage starting to build up inside of him at her words. How the hell had she managed to escape?! When had she managed to escape? Was she close enough that he could still catch her? ¡Ay, p*ta madre! How could he have been so stupid to think that he could trust her?! He re-read the note, knowing that if she could get away from him even now, even with the entire building on lockdown because of her, then there was definitely no way he’d be able to catch her on their date. He clenched his jaw at the way his stomach flipped at the word, even after she’d left him looking like a fool.
“Miguel?” Peter’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “Are you in there? What’s happening?” Miguel dashed around the room at the sound of his voice, quickly picking up his clothes and throwing them back on.
“Uh, coming! Just … give me a second!” His underwear, where was his underwear?! F*ck! She must have taken it with her. He threw on whatever he had, pulling up his zip before getting the door. Peter walked into the room, bright-eyed and well-rested, completely oblivious to how stupid he’d been last night. How the f*ck could he have had sex with her?! When everyone else was … ¡Ay, carajo!
“Took you long enough!” Peter joked, searching around the room for the other person he expected to see there. He turned back to Miguel after being unable to locate her, an apprehensive smile on his face. “Where’s the prisoner?” Miguel folded his arms across his chest and avoided Peter’s gaze, embarrassed. Peter shifted comfortably at the sight, his heart picking up speed in his chest. He forced out an awkward chuckle.
“Please don’t tell me you let her get away.”
“I didn’t let her get away,” Miguel scoffed, offended by the idea. Peter’s eyes widened in horror.
“She got away?!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “Again?!”
Miguel dropped his gaze again, fidgeting with his hands guiltily. Peter huffed in frustration and marched out of the room, ranting and grumbling as he worried over how the governor would react to his news. Miguel sighed as he followed after him, trying to come up with a plan for their date next week - there was no way in hell he was ever letting her go again.
#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel fanfic#miguel smut#miguel x oc#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#miguel atsv#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099 fanfiction#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099
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once again thinking ab the regular civilians of bsd yokohama. i'd be so conflicted living in the city like imagine seeing a huge whale in the sky so you’re like "YES the world is finally ending so i don't need to go to work tomorrow bless up 🙏" and then shit gets resolved the following day smfh
you planned to sleep in the next day only for your boss to call you like "where are you? it's 8AM. if you don't show up i'm docking your pay" and you’re like wtf. is the world not on fire. thanks a lot armed detective agency and port mafia always gotta be fixing shit so fast??
or imagine getting blipped during dead apple and you’re like "tbh whatever at least i don't need to pay bills anymore 🙏" but then you return less than 48 hours later (and find your entire condo destroyed bc a strange individual named Nakahara Chuuya decided to rip it from the ground with his bare hands and shove it down a dragon’s throat. like thanks my guy couldn’t you have done this two days ago before my rent was due)
#enas.txt#bungou stray dogs#bsd chuuya#i have so many thoughts re: the regular civilians of bsd yokohama#they're fr living on the edge in that city#whiplash everyday#ALSO yall should watch Zom 100#basically it's about a guy who dgaf about a zombie apocalypse#in fact he's so happy#bc he doesn't have to go to work anymore#he's just like me fr
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hii absolutely love your snippets! i was wondering if you can do one with two detectives ( one who has strong moral codes and the other is morally grey?) preferably m/m? have a great day!
"You can't just break into-mmph!"
The protagonist glared, indignant, as the other detective promptly shoved him into the wall, pressing a strong hand against his mouth.
"Someone's coming," the detective hissed. "Shut up."
Convenient. So convenient, wasn't it, that someone was coming just as the protagonist was winning their argument about how it was wrong to break into someone's house without a proper warrant. It was trespassing. Being a detective did not put either of them above the law!
The other detective's body was warm and firm where it pressed against him, lean from hours prowling the streets in search of secrets. The protagonist didn't know how the other detective did it, actually. Most of the job was stake-outs and patience.
Except, the infuriating detective currently pinning him to the wall had no patience. Only abs. Abs and those piercing blue eyes that seemed too sunny and pretty a colour for so maddening a man, currently locked on his face as if he was the thing to be unravelled and discovered.
The protagonist's mouth felt dry.
Yet, sure enough, he heard the sound of stranger footsteps, the low murmur of voices.
The detective shuffled a little closer, so his dark coat would blend them both a little more firmly into the shadows. There was no time to hide, not properly, and if they were caught..
Well, the protagonist could admit that would be bad. One, because trespassing. And two, because if the reason they were both trespassing was right, whoever those footsteps belonged to was very, very dangerous.
The protagonist's heart raced.
The two of their faces were barely inches apart. He could feel the detective's breath caressing ticklish and minty against his cheek. He'd always imagined - not that he'd imagined (and okay, he'd imagined!) - that the other detective's breath would be sour with whiskey, or smoke, or some other stereotypical thing. But, no. Mint. Fresh.
The protagonist willed himself himself not to make a slightly hysterical sound, and get them both caught and possibly killed over something as absurd as minty fresh toothpaste. Or gum. Whatever.
The detective grinned at him, wild, in the gloom. Drunk on adrenaline and what the two of them might learn, the thrill of the chase, and it shouldn't have looked good on him but it did...
The footsteps passed them by, with no conveniently spilled clue for cracking the entire case open.
Even when they were gone, the detective didn't move. He continued to watch the protagonist, something different on his face. His head tilted a fraction to the side.
"What?" the protagonist bit out, still keeping his voice low. "Get off me."
"I love when you debate the law with me," the detective said. "You always blush so lovely when you're mad."
"You-" The protagonist seethed, even as he damningly felt his face burn even hotter.
"-But now I think I like you crowded against the wall even more," the detective said. "Like prime evidence." His gaze raked a blazing trail along the protagonist's body. "If only you could get that stick out of your arse, I'd love to put something-"
"-Don't you dare finish that sentence."
"Oh, detective," the detective purred. "You should know better than to dare me to do anything."
The protagonist swallowed. He realised his hands were still clutching the front of the detective's jacket, and not shoving him away. He scowled. He let go.
The detective stepped back easily, gracefully, with another of those grins.
"Come on," he said. "Let's check out the basement. You were following a trespasser, weren't you? A PI without a cause! You simply have to see what I get up to, for the good of society, right?"
"That's not how it works," the protagonist said, only to immediately grow aware again of his face, of the passion on his face, of the way the detective drank it all up.
"I won't jeopardise the case," the PI said, more softly. "You know I'll do anything to get the truth. To stop the bad guys."
Yes. The protagonist did know that, for better or worse.
And, for better or worse, skin still tingling where the detective had touched him, he followed.
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Utmost Merit, Part IV
Character: Henry Cavill as Sherlock in Enola Holmes
Summary: Sherlock presents the Reader with a most unconventional proposal.
Content: Absolutely 18+ for very very very filthy language, smut with minimal plot, purposely unprotected sex, breeding kink, spouses-to-lovers, discussions of pregnancy, and some period-typical gender roles, but nothing unkind or insidious.
Notes: It’s finally here. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your patience. I love this story and I promise there are a few more chapters in store! And now, the usual formalities: I prefer giving a name to the Reader rather than using Y/N, but I hope you will make the appropriate substitutes in your imagination. Your kind comments and reblogs are so, so appreciated…please don’t hesitate to reply or send me a message with your feedback if you enjoy!
Previous Chapters: Part I Part II Part III
Your wedding is exquisite.
Sherlock seems almost giddy throughout the entirety of the proceedings, the frosty exterior melted away to reveal the secret romantic beneath. He makes his vows with solemnity in his tone and a smile in his eyes, and you do the same, and confine yourself to a chaste kiss when all you want is to be instantly at home, alone, abed, with your gorgeous, virile husband buried deep inside you. You hope that your flaming cheeks are presumed to be the result of modesty, rather than insatiable lust for the Great Detective, who looks especially, ravishingly handsome in his wedding attire—especially when he raises your hand to his lips for another innocent show of public affection, but meets your eyes across the sparkling diamond on your finger, blue orbs glittering with a sinful promise of the night to come.
It does not help your wild desires to watch your guests with their children, from the gaggle of racing teenagers who pilfer sweets and play at acting grown-up to the littlest guests fussing in their miniature finery. Particularly enrapturing is your cousin’s newborn: a plump, cheery little creature who summarily steals all attention, including yours. Sherlock traces your gaze to the source of your longing looks, makes his excuses to his brother and sister, and returns to your side to draw you close, pressing a light kiss to your temple.
“Don’t fret, Mrs. Holmes,” he murmurs softly, carefully keeping his expression pleasant, neutral, though his tone could not be more lascivious. “You’ll have one of your own soon enough. Have we managed it already, do you think? You do glow like a proper angel today.”
“I hope so,” you whisper back, smiling at your shared secret and trying to contain a shiver as his fingertips trace circles on the curve of your waist.
“Of course it will be weeks before we know for certain,” he muses, all the while nodding pleasantly at the friends and relations who raise their glasses or smile in your direction. “So don’t think I’ll be the slightest bit satisfied to wait and see. Perish the thought; you’ll be on your back and on your knees and on my lap every chance I get this fortnight. You’ll feel me every step you take, if I let you out of bed at all—”
“You absolutely must stop!” you exclaim, flushing scarlet at his wicked whispers, but you both know that you can hardly wait for him to start making good on each and every promise. He lifts your chin to look into your eyes, as much tenderness as lust glowing in in the deep, heart-stopping blue of his gaze.
“You absolutely must understand: I never thought to know happiness like this. You give me such a gift, Rosamund.”
“I will try,” you avow, a little hesitancy in your voice, for the first time truly considering that nothing in life is guaranteed.
Sherlock of course can practically read your thoughts, and he holds you even tighter, and says quietly, almost shyly, “Even…even if fate determines that we shall have no children, your companionship is itself a bounty of which I can only endeavor to be worthy.”
Then he kisses you fully on the lips, eliciting laughter and cheers from your gathered friends, and soon enough you are in your carriage—passionately kissing every available inch of one another, with Sherlock’s hand working dexterously under your skirts, from the moment the door closes until the driver announces your arrival at your new, shared home. You make yourselves barely presentable in time to greet your servants with gifts and coins and an all-to-earnest plea that they all take the rest of the night off…and then you are alone again.
“Where were we, Mrs. Holmes?” he asks, with feigned innocence and a boyish grin that prove just as seductive as his usual growls and smirks. You leap upon him at once, and he laughs, snatching you up and tossing you onto the bed you will henceforth share, laid out with fresh, sweetly-scented blankets. Urgency fades into comfort and calmness as he strips layer upon layer of wedding finery from your body, stopping to savor the scent of your perfume in the hollow of your throat and worshiping at your waist, pressing his lips along your abdomen with an adoring whisper.
“What a beautiful mother you’ll make,” he muses, addressing the hypothetical promise that well could already be blossoming within you. “I think we must have a girl first, don’t you, darling? An Ivy or Lily to complement my lovely Rose…”
A sentiment more romantic has never been heard, in your opinion, and you tug at his curls to draw him back up for a long, lingering kiss. He presses the whole of his body over yours, hard planes of muscle aligned with your soft figure…and you are most especially gratified at to feel how deliciously his long, thick cock inerrantly slides against where you are softest, rubbing up against your sensitive bud and the slick heat of your petals.
“Do you feel what you do to me?” Sherlock asks, pressing you deeper into the bed and rocking his hips, drawing a soft cry of pleasure from your lips. “I must walk through the world like this, betrayed by my own body at the slightest thought of you—giving yourself to me, surrendering this sweet, perfect cunt all for my pleasure, to bear my child.”
His filthy poetry has you on the bring of orgasm already, and you can hardly wait another moment to feel him fill you. He eagerly acquiesces to the gentle insistence of your hands against his chest, flipping him to lay upon his back, and you settle atop him, straddling his thighs and dragging your slit against his cock so he can feel what he does to you in return.
“Such a—fuck, that’s it—you are such a beautiful woman,” he murmurs, burying his face in your neck, his breathing set ragged as you sink down onto his length. You gasp at the stretch, too, and for a moment, you hold one another as close as you can, your foreheads pressed together and Sherlock’s fingertips gently stroking hips and thighs as you clench around him. “Now, this position may be somewhat antithetical to our designs—” You almost laugh at his attempt to regain his composure, to lecture on The Shared Purpose, and in answer, you raise yourself up and sink down on his cock again, and again, faster and faster, delighted at how flustered and frantic he becomes. “—but how I love to…to watch my wife—my pretty, pretty little wife—take her pleasure like this—“
“Your wife, Sherlock?” you tease, increasing your pace and smirking as this massive, powerful man shudders beneath you, as helpless to the pleasure of your union as you are. “I thought you didn’t want a wife…particularly.”
It’s a direct quote from his proposal and he knows it; and you can see the very instant his brilliant brain goes feral at your mischief.
“I don’t want a wife,” he growls, clutching at your hips and slamming you down harder, faster, closer, taking back control with animalistic ardor. “I want my wife. Now come for me, Mrs. Holmes, show me what a good wife you are—show me, show me—“
You absolutely shatter, calling out his name, and he takes advantage of your blissful helplessness to regain the upper hand, deftly, easily laying you out on your back and pull your legs about his waist so he can rut into you with abandon.
“Take it,” he encourages. “All you have to do is take it, let me fuck a baby into you, sweet girl—oh, I know, darling, how much you want this, too.”
He holds you so beautifully close as he comes, kissing you gently even as he moans your name. For a long moment you remain entwined, heartbeats slowing in tandem. But he does not allow you a long respite, carefully withdrawing his length from your tender little channel, only to replace it at once with his fingers.
“This is a rule of our household,” he explains, gently tracing your lip with the pad of his thumb as his other hand coaxes another climax out of you. “You will always give me one more, my lovely bride, when I’m finished with you. To direct the seed to your womb, of course…and because it satisfies me to see you made drunk on the pleasure I give you—yes, precisely like that, Mrs. Holmes.”
“One more” turns out to be an understatement.
Seemingly hours later, a new first intimacy is shared: a spent but infinitely smug Sherlock falls asleep in your arms, his head pillowed on your breasts. He is magnificently warm, and has never looked more peaceful or content than he does now, his eyes fluttering in sleep while you stroke his tousled curls, a little smile gracing his lips and one possessive hand placed protectively over your womb, as if this little extra intimacy might coax into being the baby of your shared dreams.
But you are not so content.
For on this wedding day, you have come to a realization, and on this wedding night, your understanding is only made more palpable. This marriage of shared purpose, this convenient, well-planned union, founded on practicality rather than sentiment…is a lie.
“I love you, Sherlock,” you whisper in the dark, as he dreams on, unknowing…
If you enjoyed, please do peruse my Masterlist!
And thank you with all my heart to those who left kind comments on the previous chapter: @dopebanditlightpie @torchbearerkyle @mathle0matle @crazyunsexycool @inlovewithhisblueeyes @ghotifishreads @astheskycries @foxchild-v
#Sherlock Holmes x Reader#henry cavill sherlock#henry!sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes x ofc#enola holmes fanfic
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Random Eyeless Jack tongue hcs
Cw// kinda borders into suggestive territory if you squint, but nothing intentional? Writing this before actually putting down the hcs, but
Yeah
Nothing too crazy, obviously
Also cw// for body horror and shit since I also wanna dive into his whole.. how he got messed up
Getting the body horror stuff out of the way, I hope yall already know ab my whole curse hc/interpretation on jack
If you dont/if you're new; hi! Welcome to my blog! I hc that jack used to be a normal dude but got dragged into a cult that made him the way he is now!! Real important and relevant to my take on him/I haven't seen many other people use that spin on fan story for this sort of thing
Anyways
As per the whole "his body is shifting into something horrific," thing, his tongue literally. Splits into several tendrils
Havent decided on an exact number, but hes got.. a few alright!
Thick, but get thinner to the tips; and they have the same goop that leaks from Jack's eyes! Sensitive sense of taste; and he can kinda detect scents with them, like snakes do!!
His mouth is kinda crowded, though, so sometimes he'll talk with a bit of a lisp (?), or accidentally bite himself
Now onto the real horror; the process of his tongue splitting was painful, and long. He felt all of it, and given that he's literally turning into a man eating monster, he was unable to seek medical help; so he had to suffer alone and without aid
Obviously, if your tongue is splitting itself open, there's gonna be a mess plus lots and lots of pain
Poor dude
Moving on
They writhe
A lot
Especially when theres... food.. nearby; they tend to flick out (snake like!!!) If hes hungry (tends to lose himself for a while)
In the most sfw way I can say it because there is literally no way I can say it without being sus, they kinda??? Wrap around things??
Like okay I had an art idea, to draw jack with a blood-popsicle, since summer is coming; and with the previous hcs it'd make sense that his tongues would just naturally latch around it and grip said blood-pop
So that's my hc now
Also back to horror stuff i feel like that'd make his feeding frenzies all the more terrifying
I mean when he goes into one he completely loses all his humanity and thoughts and just jumps on someone
Imagine he latches onto someone and like
Idfk anchors them into the persons flesh so they cant just easily shove him off
That's terrifying
I love it sm
Downside; kissing jack is not fun since 1) it's a legitimate choking hazard, and 2) the goop makes his tongues taste gross
I feel like the goop is also, to a degree, corrosive
Or at least, an irritant
Like super powered saliva that can break down meat fast; also explains why I draw jack with huge dark circles n shit around his eyes
I bet yall (who follow my main) just thought I made him tired
Nope, it's his flesh being slowly burned away!! Granted hes more durable to it since the whole monster thing + it's his own material but
Still
So
Yeah!!!
Take what you will with these hcs
#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta#crp#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x you#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack imagine#eyeless jack x reader#eyeless jack headcanon#eyeless jack
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Hopping back on oblivious!reader x lovesick!Dazai thing
I just imagine him helping you at the ADA only for you to smile and say something like “you’re such a great friend 😊😊”
When you walk away, man literally falls to his knees, whining as Yosano laughs at him and Atsushi tries to hype him up lmao. The ADA definitely has a bet of how long it’ll take you to figure out he loves you.
hope you had a good day :)
- 🦋
its even worse if ur usually such a good detective but u absolutely fail when it comes to him trying to flirt w u :( poor little guy
but nonnie !! what ab when u accidentally flirt with him? like innocently tucking his bangs back when they fall a little too close to his eyes & being confused when he freezes completely, not even realizing ur driving him crazy (づ៸៸៸◟)
#valentines#dazai love club ⊹ 𓂃 ｡ ‧ ₊#signed by 🦋 ⟡₊ ⊹#i hope ur having a good week my darling nonnie <33 !!
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Somewhere, Somehow
Abe x gn!Reader
“Out of the confines of fate, the detective and the DA be at last.”
Word count: 2.4k
As encouraged by @crazy-obsessed-enby and @enderman-ezra‘s love especially, for the first and second parts. Thank you <3
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Part 1 - The Prying Hands Of Choice
Part 2 - A Love Never Flourished
Part 3 - Somewhere, Somehow
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Night comes quick in the city; too quick. The days run away from you, sunlight slips through your fingers and the veil of night covers the sky. Breakfast becomes lunch and lunch becomes dinner and you've just woken up and are already going back to sleep.
Time doesn't wait for the bustling and busy ways of the city: it's easy to loose track of the days and the nights. But you've never felt so alive.
Not since before the cold, wooden floor of the manor was firm against your back, blood splattered across the oak and your shirt. Wilford's disheartened look and the detectives body the last thing you'd seen.
Space doesn't have time, always too dark to know what's night and what's morning or when lunchtime truly is. It's unnerving in a way, how quickly you lose ingrained routine for the vastness of space. But how different is the inner city from space? Times comes and goes and you wake and you sleep and the world moves on with or without you.
A too-loud rumble of a car startles you from low murmur of the TV - some rerun of an old show you've never seen before yet have seen a million times - and the coldness of the seat next to you. An army of throw blankets swarm around your waist, disregarded by their other - better - half, and missing the warmth he provided.
Abe.
Pushing the comfort of the blankets away from you, you stood from the worn, leather couch. The deep brown reminding you of the jacket Abe had been wearing when you'd found him again; the reason you'd insisted you just had to have it.
Many a night had been spent curled on that couch: a book, a movie, a shitty rerun of a tv show and some good snacks and company. Not tonight though, Abe's smell withdrawn from the blankets and his warmth gone from your hold.
Padding through the kitchen, past the small island littered with unopened letters, house keys and empty takeout boxes, you pull your sleeves down and the window up. Slipping through the cracked open window, you closed it behind you - not wanting the crisp air to invade the warmth of the apartment that you had been so preciously holding onto.
Rain drips over the ledge of the roof, splashing against the metal of the fire-escape balcony and beginning to soak through Abe's shirt. How long had you let him be out here?
Sneaking closer to the broad-shouldered man, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against the back of his shoulder.
"You shouldn't smoke; it'll kill you, you know." Abe looked down at his shirt-clad chest, his trembling hands coming to rest against and smooth out the fabric.
"Too late for that." He snarled, immediately apologising for his bitter tone and moving away from you. What was going on?
You often struggled to come to grips with the reality you found yourself in: the warped perception of life a side effect of falling through wormhole after wormhole. You'd awake from a dream that felt too real, just another reality you'd been briefly trapped in, sweating and screaming and crying out for Abe. Who was at your side, thankfully.
Night after night you dreaded the day would come where you'd awake to no Abe by your side, back in that cryopod with a glowing crystal in your hand. And Abe did everything he could on those nights to assure you it wasn't real.
He'd hold you, sooth you until you were fast asleep once again; promise he was here and not going anywhere while consumed with guilt at the white lie. Abe could not guarantee you that he'd come home each night, the work of a detective hard and demanding, so when he was there he made it count.
Except for on nights like these.
Abe constantly worried about you; worried you'd disappear again, die again, wake up alone and panicked because of his job. Fully driven by the idea it was all his fault, he'd made a point to tell you all of his partner had died, gone, been left behind - and yet he'd given you the title as though he was okay with that.
Letting out a deep sigh, he sat down on the steps of the fire escape that lead up to the next floor, taking a long drag from his cigarette before turning to face the sky, white smoke puffed into the black night.
Though your eyes had not left him, you now turned to face him, taking small almost meek steps towards your beloved detective. Taking one of his hands in your own, you caress the side of his face; a silent plea to talk to you.
Abe placed his other hand atop the two connected ones, giving them a gentle squeeze. The lit cigarette balanced between rosy lips, chapped by the cold and wind.
Slowly, he lowers his hands, his firm grip coming to rest on your hips. Gently he pulls you down onto his knee; your legs slotting between his own and an arm coming to rest across his broad shoulders. Resting your hand at the nape of his neck you begin to lightly scratch at the stubble there.
Abe's long-lost look dissolves from his face, his forehead knocking lovingly against your temple as he turns to face you, faces far too close for friendship.
But were you more then friends? You'd been friends when you met, and he held you like a lover. Looked at you as though you were his reason to go on and joked with you like a friend. You'd been everything and nothing entirely - something too complicated to put labels on; labels you'd love to see. But knowing Abe was yours was what mattered, and that he was.
"A penny for your thoughts dear?" Abe shakes his head, taking another drag from his cigarette then harshly blowing it out. "Don't give me that, I know something is wrong."
Taking his lit cigarette from where it was loosely held between his fingers, you took a long drag - holding the fumes in for a brief moment before teasingly blowing it in Abe's face. You move the cig back up to his lips and allow him to take a drag, then swiftly move it away from his face. Shuffling closer, you lean down; almost too close, a hairs length separating the two of you. You knock your nose against his, waiting for him to meet your eyes before you clumsily slot your lips against his own.
Abe instantly melts into the kiss, the smoke leaving his lungs as he brushes chapped lips against soft ones.
"Talk to me." You plead, wanting to know what was going on in his head. One hundred thoughts at once and you were ninety-nine of them; that one unused was reserved for whatever case he had been working on in that moment.
"Do you ever wish we were just the detective and the district attorney? And nothing more."
A daunting question. Life had been simpler then, sure, but the whirlwind of emotions Abe maybe you feel you wouldn't change for the world. Sometimes you don't think you were ever truly alive until you walked into the manor; Abe leaning against the doorframe of Mark's house while you were lounged across once of his many loveseats. It was like you were living for the first time meeting his eyes; as though you'd been born just in the doorway and he was the first thing you ever truly saw.
"What about less?" You asked, hoping and pleading that Abe got the sentiment behind your words: you didn't want less with him, you wanted security.
That's what Abe and you both lacked in this lifetime; knowledge that you would wake up beside the other everyday and that everything would be okay, safe and the same.
You would try and give him that, no matter the cost.
"Less is fine; good even. It's safe." Running your fingers along the back of Abe's neck lovingly, you lulled him into your touch, letting him really feel the heat radiating from your palm and know you were there. Right now. With him. Safe and sound.
The murmur of whatever you had been watching on the tv fades away and in its place is some 70s song - slow and relaxing - it's tune instantly making sleep sink into your bones and fill you with comfort.
"Dance with me?" You asked, barely above a whisper, Abe's head still resting against your own. "While I'm awake enough to."
Abe grunts displeasingly, and you think for a moment he's going to say no, then pushes you from his lap and the idea is almost confirmed. Though he pulls you close to him as he stands; you resting your head against his soft shirt and muscular chest beneath it. The brisk night air was harsh against your exposed skin eliciting a shiver - the cold quickly soothed from your skin by Abe's arms atop your own. Keeping you close and keeping the cold away.
Abe's hand snake away from yours: one reaching for your hand and pulling the intertwined pair up to the side of you, the other curling around your lower back and trying to pull you impossibly closer. Your own free arm is tucked under his, laying flat up against his back, allowing you to tuck yourself into his side slightly, hiding you away from the cold night air.
The pair of you move slow, in sync with the other and simply stepping from side to side, relishing in the moment of simplicity with the other.
"I'm glad it was you - this version of you - I found." You admitted, sheepish blush hidden by the dark of the sky and the way your head was tucked beneath Abe's. "All the other you's I encountered, they didn't have your eyes. Sure, they had your face, your smile or your charm; but they never had your eyes."
"I'm glad it was me too sweetheart." Abe chuckled, voice becoming raspy with need for sleep, night slipping further and further into day under the lights of the city. Rain became drizzle, the occasional pitter patter against the metal staircase reminding you it had rained at all.
You continued to sway to the lull of the song, recognising it to be the same that had played when you returned to Wilford's roller-rink , but choosing to keep that a secret for only yourself to indulge in. The only two times you had slow-danced with Abe were to this song, and you hoped it would be the only one you'd ever slow-dance to and he'd be the only one you'd ever slow-dance with.
As the song came to a sullen end, Abe pulled away from you, but only enough to look at your face. His eyes scoured across your features, taking across your face from your lips to your eyes and back: whatever he was thinking he settles for a chaste kiss against your forehead that makes you crinkle your eyebrows up at the ticklish sensation.
"You know, I'm glad that - even in another life - I got to travel the stars with you." Abe whispered his admission, something shy about it. You'd never mentioned how Gunther specifically looked like Abe; the ADS lead having you wrapped around his finger in ways you didn't even realise.
You'd almost called him Abe the first time you met him; everything about him all to similar to someone else. However, the first time he took off those sunglasses in front of you, you knew he wasn't your Abe, just some lookalike.
Though Abe had recalled your words at the roller-rink, in fact he thought of them often. About how somewhere out there you'd already found him; and somewhere out there you'd do it again. Somewhere, somehow - just like you'd half promised him before your forced departure from the disco.
"You'd have hated it up there. It's lonely."
"Not when I'm with you; never when I'm with you." Abe had always had a way with words; from your first meeting till now, he never failed to make you turn red at his sweet sentences.
"Whatever you say, pretty boy." You teased, pushing away from your detective and heading back towards the window, sliding it open enough to creep back inside and turning to face Abe. Palm outstretched you waited for him to take your hand, moving deeper inside the warmth of the apartment with Abe now in tow.
Pulling him by your connected hands, you led him through the messy room; ignoring the coat that had fallen from the hanger and the mess of blankets and pillows you had left on the couch, deciding they were all things that could be dealt with come morning or sunshine, whatever came first.
Arriving in your shared bedroom, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, his tie already hung loose enough to slip over his head and onto the desk, ready to use tomorrow. Abe stood there, looking at you in complete admiration as you took him through the motions: helping him get out of his work clothes and into his pyjamas as though it was routine.
Falling back into the mattress and mess of a duvet, still unmade from the morning before, you pulled Abe with you, shuffling up the bed to meet the pillow and letting out a deep sigh; sleep seeping into your bones once again as you finally, truly, relaxed. Shuffling about you made yourself comfortable, leaning into Abe's warmth though giving him enough space to get comfy himself.
It didn't take long for sleep to overcome you, time warped and unusual under the bright, city lights. But Abe watched until gentle snores left your chest, scratching his fingers against your scalp lovingly as he waited for you to fall fast asleep, dream of lands far away. Though not far away enough that you'd wake with a start worried he was long gone and this was all a dream.
Abe often found it hard to come to terms with the fact you were actually here, next to him once again, and that you wouldn't be gone the next time he woke up like the you he saw in his deluded drunken stupors and after a particularly shitty nights sleep.
And though Abe had never been a religious man, he thanked any God out there that you had been returned to his side.
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Hello my lovies!! This brings us to the end of this little Abe series I had planned. I love Abe and there's so little about him so I decided to be the change I wanted to see in the world.
Thank you for all the love. I am very happy to take Abe/Gunther requests so please send any in you may have!!
#detective abe x reader#abe the detective#abe x reader#detective abe#district attorney x the detective#iswm x reader#wilford motherloving warfstache#abe wkm#captain yn#wkm x reader#abe imagine#detective abe imagine#in space with markiplier x reader
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STORY AT-A-GLANCE
Pfizer’s mRNA COVID-19 shots instruct cells to produce additional “off-target” proteins that could pose significant health risks
The finding was revealed by a team of U.K. researchers, who found a “glitch” occurred due to the way the COVID-19 shots were genetically modified
According to the study, off-target cellular immune responses occur in 25% to 33% of those who have received Pfizer’s COVID-19 shot
The “Pfrankenstein” proteins could potentially lead to health problems, including autoimmune conditions or endocrine disruption
Pfizer’s Pfrankenstein proteins should have been detected and reduced or eliminated long before mRNA COVID-19 shots were given to millions of people
The toxic spike protein produced in your body if you receive a COVID-19 shot is not the only health concern to be aware of. Pfizer’s mRNA COVID-19 shots also instruct cells to produce additional “off-target” proteins that could pose significant health risks.
The finding was revealed by a team of U.K. researchers1 who found a “glitch” occurred due to the way the COVID-19 shots were genetically modified. As a result, unwanted proteins are produced, with unknown effects — a phenomenon that should have been detected long before the experimental shots were given to millions of people.
Modified mRNA in COVID-19 Shots Is ‘Prone to Reading Errors’
Ribosomes decode mRNA in cells, but about 8% of the time those in COVID-19 shots may misread the coded instructions, Maryanne Demasi, Ph.D., a former medical scientist with the University of Adelaide and former reporter for ABC News in Australia, explains:2
“The researchers say that ribosomes, which are responsible for decoding the mRNA in cells, can slip and misread the coded instructions about 8% of the time — known as ‘ribosomal frameshifting.’ They say the ‘glitch’ has to do with how the mRNA in the vaccine has been genetically modified.
Unlike naturally-occurring mRNA, the mRNA that exists in the vaccines has had a ‘uridine’ base replaced with a ‘N1-methyl pseudouridine’ (to stabilize it) and unfortunately, has made it prone to reading errors.”
In May 2021, I interviewed Stephanie Seneff, Ph.D., a senior research scientist at MIT for over five decades, about the likely hazards of replacing the uracil in the RNA used in the COVID shots with synthetic methylpseudouridine.3 This process of substituting letters in the genetic code is known as codon optimization, which is known to be problematic.
At the time, Seneff predicted the shots would cause a rise in prion, autoimmune and neurodegenerative diseases and, at younger ages, blood disorders and heart failure. One of the primary reasons for this is because they genetically manipulated the RNA in the shots with synthetic methylpseudouridine, which enhances RNA stability by inhibiting its breakdown.
Now, researchers at Cambridge University and the Universities of Kent, Oxford and Liverpool, have discovered4 that the use of methylpseudouridine results in a high rate of ribosomal “frameshifting,” which causes your cells to produce off-target proteins with unknown effects. In an interview with Demasi, research scientist David Wiseman explained the concerning findings:5
“They found the Pfizer vaccine can cause your cells to make proteins that they are not supposed to make — you end up with what I call ‘Pfrankenstein proteins.’ … Imagine the following three-letter English words ABE DAN TEA TON ERA TWO — the letters are like the code on the mRNA. Now instead of starting to read the sentence at the letter ‘A’ of the first word, you frameshift to the next letter — the letter ‘B.’
That means that all the other letters are shifted to the left and it will give you a new sentence with three-letter words BED ANT EAT ONE RAT etcetera. So, the new words have a completely different meaning from the original words. This is what happened in the body of some people vaccinated with Pfizer’s product. New unwanted ‘off-target’ proteins were produced, that actually led to an ‘off-target’ immune response.”
Your Body Is Being Hijacked to Produce ‘Pfrankenstein’ Proteins
According to the study, off-target cellular immune responses occur in 25% to 33% of those who have received Pfizer’s COVID-19 shot. “It means their lymphocytes had seen the proteins before — their immune system had already been primed from a prior exposure, presumably after that person had received the mRNA vaccine,” Wiseman said.6
The study authors stated there were no adverse outcomes related to the “frameshifted products,” and the media has similarly downplayed any risk of harm. However, molecular virologist David Speicher Ph.D., told Trial Site News reporter Sonia Elijah:7
“Whenever our cells create an abundance of unintended proteins or prevent production of appropriate proteins it could lead to an unintended immune response with a huge potential to cause harm.”
Wiseman was also clear in his explanation that the “Pfrankenstein” proteins could potentially lead to health problems, including autoimmune conditions or endocrine disruption. He told Demasi:8
“What you have to realize is that your body is being hijacked, not just to produce spike protein, but also to produce other, what I call, ‘Pfrankenstein’ proteins that are completely uncharacterized. We don't know what they are, what they do, for how long they're made or how long they last in the body, and we have no idea what their toxicity is.
From the Nature paper however, we do know that these unwanted proteins elicit immune reactions in the body.
… These researchers showed that frameshifting could create chimeric proteins. Basically, as the ribosome reads the code for the spike protein, it may slip in the middle of reading the code. So, the first half is spike protein, and the second half is a Pfrankenstein protein.
Now, just imagine one half can still attach to the ACE2 receptor on cells but on the other end, you’ve got this Pfrankenstein protein dangling outside of the cells. Your immune system is going to destroy the cell because it looks foreign, and now you’ve got something that looks like an autoimmune condition.
Or you could have a protein that turns out to be not necessarily identical, but sufficiently similar to another protein in our body like a hormone and it ends up mimicking the hormone’s activity and disturbing your endocrine system.”
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Reading Errors Could Be Reduced — So Why Weren’t They?
While claiming that frameshifted products weren’t harmful, the Nature study authors stated it was important for future mRNA technologies to reduce ribosome frameshifting events. They suggested that they could identify the garbled sites or sequences and alter the mRNA sequence to reduce such effects in the future.9
But as Wiseman pointed out, this should have been done already. “This work should’ve been done by the vaccine manufacturers and by the regulators before the product was authorized and given to billions of people. They’ve asked people to take a vaccine, and put it into children and they have no clue what is happening inside the body.”10
Further, the study authors are basing their assessment that there’s no risk posed by these ‘Pfrankenstein proteins’ on just 21 people. Wiseman continued to Demasi:11
“The authors wrote, ‘... there is no evidence that frameshifted products in humans generated from BNT162b2 vaccination are associated with adverse outcomes.’ But they only looked at 21 people who received Pfizer’s vaccine, so you cannot call that a serious safety study by any stretch of the imagination.
And how did they select these people? The volunteers were part of another government funded study and had not reported undue effects from vaccination. Since they did not study subjects who had reported adverse vaccine effects, the selection of participants was probably biased.
… What they’re trying to say now is that there have been no problems identified in 21 people, but in the future there may be problems, so we should just keep studying it. Are you kidding me? What they’re saying is that ‘we will inject you first and ask safety questions later.’ It’s not good enough.”
It’s worth noting that two of the researchers on the team have a pending patent application for mRNA technology,12 so they certainly have reason to downplay the problem and propose all we need to do is a bit of tweaking and all will be well moving forward.
Is Foreign DNA Integrating Into Human Cells?
Along with Pfizer's Pfrankenstein proteins, there’s potential that DNA integration from COVID-19 shots could pose a risk to the human genome. Tucker Carlson spoke with Florida Surgeon General Dr. Joseph Ladapo, who has called for an end to the use of COVID-19 mRNA shots, citing concerns about DNA fragments in the products.13
“Could foreign DNA enter your cells through the mRNA COVID vax and change your DNA — and humanity itself — forever? Sounds nutty. It's not,” Carlson tweeted. “Absolutely that could happen,” says Dr. Joseph Ladapo, the surgeon general of Florida.14 In a December 6, 2023, letter sent to the U.S. FDA and CDC, Ladapo outlined findings showing the presence of lipid nanoparticle complexes and simian virus 40 (SV40) promoter/enhancer DNA.
While there are limits on how much DNA can be in a vaccine due to concern over DNA integration, the guidelines don’t consider lipid nanoparticles and other factors in COVID-19 shots that could enhance how much DNA can enter a cell.
“Lipid nanoparticles are an efficient vehicle for delivery of the mRNA in the COVID-19 vaccines into human cells and may therefore be an equally efficient vehicle for delivering contaminant DNA into human cells. The presence of SV40 promoter/enhancer DNA may also pose a unique and heightened risk of DNA integration into human cells,” according to a news release from the Florida Department of Health (DOH).15
In a 2023 preprint study, microbiologist Kevin McKernan — a former researcher and team leader for the MIT Human Genome project16 — and colleagues assessed the nucleic acid composition of four expired vials of the Moderna and Pfizer mRNA shots. “DNA contamination that exceeds the European Medicines Agency (EMA) 330ng/mg requirement and the FDAs 10ng/dose requirements” was found.17
So, in addition to the spike protein and mRNA in COVID-19 shots, McKernan’s team discovered SV40 promoters that, for decades, have been suspected of causing cancer in humans.18 Further, according to the Florida DOH, the FDA’s own 2007 guidance states:19
“DNA integration could theoretically impact a human’s oncogenes – the genes which can transform a healthy cell into a cancerous cell.
DNA integration may result in chromosomal instability.
The Guidance for Industry discusses biodistribution of DNA vaccines and how such integration could affect unintended parts of the body including blood, heart, brain, liver, kidney, bone marrow, ovaries/testes, lung, draining lymph nodes, spleen, the site of administration and subcutis at injection site.”
The FDA responded to Ladapo’s letter December 14, 2023, but provided no evidence that appropriate DNA integration assessments had been conducted. Ladapo called for a halt in their use as a result.20 “It starts at crazy but it ends at somewhere else that someone could be just so nonchalant and, frankly, willy-nilly, with something as precious and as sacred as our human DNA,” Ladapo told Carlson.21
Help for Those Suffering From COVID-19 Shot Injuries
If you’re suffering from side effects of a COVID-19 shot, your first order of business is to eliminate the spike protein — and/or any aberrant off-target protein — that your body is producing. Two remedies shown to bind to and facilitate the removal of SARS-CoV-2 spike protein are hydroxychloroquine and ivermectin. It’s unknown whether these drugs will work on off-target proteins as well, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to try.
The Front Line COVID-19 Critical Care Alliance (FLCCC) has developed a post-vaccine treatment protocol called I-RECOVER. The protocol is continuously updated as more data become available, so your best bet is to download the latest version straight from the FLCCC website at covid19criticalcare.com.22
The World Council for Health (WCH), a worldwide coalition of health-focused organizations and civil society groups, has also released a spike protein detox guide,23 which provides straightforward steps you can take to potentially lessen the effects of toxic spike protein that may be helpful. Another option is sauna therapy, which can also help eliminate toxic and misfolded proteins by stimulating autophagy.24
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oh my god i was joking around with my gf about if there was a Sleuth Jesters series and i had a cool idea
the series opens with a bar fight scene that preludes the first chapter with New York New York by Frank Sinatra playing in the bg as the vigilante beats up ppl and stuff and its super cool and an epic opening
BUT THEN I THOUGHT AB THE END
IM CRYING in the last episode the song that plays right before and during the credits is My Way ALSO BY FRANK SINATRA and its just like a tie to the first episode and im bawling bc im imagining there being like a secret end scene after the credits with the detectives and the vigilante standing together and even like watching the dramatic sunset together im WRITHING IN PAIN
.. i might make some storyboards for this
#Sorry for long post#text post#rant#sleuth jesters#sleuth jesters makes brain go brr#I LOVE THEM SO MUCH#man id kill for a series to be made like actually#pls hire me /j
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Episode 1 ~ Blood, Sweat, Technique
"They are HERE!" she whispers in the most hushed and yet screaming tone you could imagine. Looking around as if there were a an angry mob after her but all I could see outside was the serenity of the town. "Did you see them?"
"Who?" I ask, deciding to play along. If I'm going to be a detective I will have to know how to ask questions. "Are you okay?"
"I-I am, I think but....t-they are here. In this c-city, n-now!"
"Alright, slow down, I'm an officer-"
"You work for the police?" She asked, her voice a curious mixture of concern and hope.
"I am a rookie but yes, I might be able to help you out. Are you in trouble?"
She didn't answer right away, she stopped, thought about it, and seemed to sense something that I perhaps could not. My lips part to ask the question again or rather to ask another question of her but she does finally respond. "We are ALL in trouble, lady. Have you not heard about the last death? A week ago? The women gone missing? The bodies, mutilated, torn to shreds, decapitated? The l-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down! One thing at a time," I urged her. I had heard about a murder and a missing woman but from what I knew, it was isolated. I read about the story on my way here as it was the only interesting tidbit about this sleepy town. A woman kidnapped and later her body was found in several different pieces. Placed around the city as if it were some sick puzzle for the police to solve. This was seasons ago, forever ago, but the killer had never been found. The word on the street was that he had killed himself as the motive for such violence had been a passionate love triangle. The theory by the leading officer then was that it was a murder suicide as the only clues left of the man were his clothes left on the shore. The idea being that he simply swam out as far as he could and let the sea claim his body. "You are talking about the killing of Nessa Sichrer correct? The woman that went missing and then was found in-"
"It's more than that, it's more than one!" Her voice cracked then, she was about to cry, I believe. "L-look, my name is Saori Abe. Contact me soon, okay?"
"What? Wait-"
"You'll know when the time is right. I-I need to go, I-I-I need to prepare."
Episode List - Next
#the sims#the sims 4#sims legacy#iggleverse#sims 4 legacy#my sims#generation 1#talla castaneda#saori abe#nessa sichrer
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Psych x Community ??
I love psych and i love community so this vague concept of them existing in the same universe has been floating around in my head.
The key connecting factor being the references to Shawn/Britta’s similarly eclectic off-screen pasts. They're close in age so I'm like okay - it would totally be possible for them to have known eachother/dated/whatever at some point before.
psych aired from 2006 - 2014; Shawn born 1977
community aired from 2009 -2014; Britta born 1980
(Take these two quotes just as an example but it's referenced casually throughout both shows)
Britta’s Dad: I mean, every time we get too close, you run off. We sent you a birthday card to your apartment in New York, and the next week you’re setting fire to a Jamba Juice in San Jose.
Britta: How long is that gonna stick with me?
Britta’s Mom: Until arson is legal, sweetie.
Gus: Shawn, you’ve had fifty-seven jobs since we left high school.
Shawn: Yes I have. And they were all fun. But this one takes the cake.
Gus: Oh yeah? Better than the acupuncture clinic?
Shawn: I didn’t realize experience was necessary.
Gus: What about the summer you spent driving the weiner mobile?
Shawn: I did that for the hot dogs.
I think they fit somewhere in the ballpark of each other's types, both sluts(affectionate) and it makes sense for them to have crossed paths at some point during Britta's “anhercists” days.
So that establishes a link between the groups, but what would it be like if they interacted? Take the arbitrary scenario; Shawn and Gus have gotten themselves and by extension the SBPD into another whacky shenanigan somehow who cares how i'm not writing this
I imagine initially everyone in the study group has a more or less positive impression of Shawn because he's charming, (with the notable exception of…you got it! Jeff)
JEFF
In typical jeff fashion is immediately threatened by Shawn because he has to be the coolestmostlikeabledude™ in the room at all times while simultaneously has to act like he doesn't care so he's quietly seething and - hey what's this new dude doing here making all my friends laugh that's my job! i must now make it my life's mission to prove this guys a fraud and reclaim my status no matter how much a fool i make of myself in the process (a la: advanced documentary filmmaking)
BRITTA
Normal standard “hey old friend” situation, remember when we *insane thing involving multiple felonies and property destruction* haha anyway let me introduce you to my friends -
ANNIE
immediate skepticism that Shawn is able to sidestep pretty quickly by being charming/flirty (NOT in a gross way *hisses at the jeffannie shippers*) Her reaction being like when the dean “swaps bodies with jeff” or after abed’s don draper impression.
ABED
Knows Shawn isn't really psychic but goes along with it/doesn’t point out that Shawn’s hyper observant because he's invested in watching the psychic/cop show formula play out. He would! and I would too!
(quote from 5x03 Basic Intergluteal Numismatics):
Abed Nadir: [Pretending to read the crime scenes as a psychic] I see a man... using a social disorder as a procedural device. Wait, wait, wait, I see another man. Mildly autistic super detectives everywhere.
TROY
Obligatory: “you’re wrinkling my brain right now” and just general fascination, awe, and wonderment. Asks Shawn to tell him his future
SHIRLEY
Immediate judgment on Shawn's practices not being christian enough for her standards, but easily swayed to liking him once he picks up on something and comments on her ex husband being an idiot to lose her or something
PEIRCE
Does his peirce thing and tries to seem impressive and fails, something level five laser lotus blah blah - u get it thats enough on him
THE DEAN
Is facilitating the psych crew being there because it might bring in good press for greendale and he def does the hand on shoulder thing when he meets him you know the one - omg and totally is into Lassiter furrowed brows “im packing heat” Carlton, please. – lassie is Not Amused™
CHANG
This depends on what point in community canon this interaction takes place because season 1 chang would prob be normal(for him), but like season 5 Chang would do/say something so insane and so chang that i can't even come up with it
As for our psych guys, Gus points out how weird and fucked up and bizarre Greendale is meanwhile Shawn is LIVING for it - signs them up for the Dean’s PA announcements class, and “Gus! buddy! I hope you don't mind. I used your credit card to sign us up for The History of Ice Cream. Come on, it starts in 20 minutes ! :D” Gus: “Shawn! >:0”
Lassie would just nonstop point out all the health and safety violations- he doesn't want to be here- calls a lot of people hippies, generally grumpy demeanor and we love him for it.
Starburns terribly hits on Jules - gets rejected, proceeds to try and sell her drugs - gets arrested.
#community tv#psych tv#community x psych crossover#community nbc#psych usa#shawn spencer#burton gus guster#britta perry#the study group#crossover#community show#insane ramblings of a tv obsessed loser#if i had any ability to write entertaining comedic fiction i would#shawn solves the mystery and saves the day#he finds russell borchert years before Basic Sandwich
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god hippo all of your wips sound so interesting!! 👀 i’m so excited for all of them! but predictably i am curious about your sub!buck fic
Hi Zesty! (also asked by @theotherbuckley)
I will apologize in advance because I keep forgetting how misleading that title is. It's less sub!Buck and more dom/sub overtones. Anywho... there are a few snippets of this around. I'm just going to highlight this bit because so far it's my favorite (fwiw this is pre relationship and Eddie being a really swell pal by offering to help Buck out):
Then there is only a maddening, heavy silence, leaving no indication of how close Eddie might be. Buck can’t detect his breathing, but knows Eddie – his partner – is still there.
Sweet relief washes over him as Eddie wraps himself around Buck, hands sliding over his pecs and down the ridge of his abs, a blazing line of heat where Eddie’s chest presses against his back. Buck imagines, if he were to look, their bare skin would glow everywhere it touches. Two celestial beings burning bright and hot like stars in the night sky.
Silent signals traverse between them like radio waves. Communications in the form of every one of Eddie’s touches and breaths fanning across the line of his neck, the shell of his ear, the point where the two meet. It’s something Buck supposes was inevitable. Eddie knows him in every other way. It’s not impossible to believe he knows this too. That Eddie would already be attuned to the ways Buck’s body reacts, the precise frequency of how he craves Eddie. Maybe it’s more obvious than Buck suspects. An aura of overwhelm and too much and too in his head that manifests as a primal, visceral need to submit. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn it radiates off of him in shades of sage, twilight, silver and violet.
Eddie’s fingers skim outward, along the vee of Buck’s torso, over his wrists, trailing through coarse arm hair, up to the bend of Buck’s elbows. Buck wants to turn around, wants to capture Eddie’s mouth in a filthy kiss, wants to see the molten desire turning chocolate brown irises to nearly pure black. But that’s not what Eddie told him to do. Eddie had very specific instructions. And Buck is rather inclined to listen. He told Eddie he would be good for him. And he will. He wants to, more than anything.
“Mmhmm,” Eddie hums, planting kisses like tiny flowers along the line of Buck’s shoulders. As if Buck is a wild, abandoned patch of earth that Eddie believes can grow something beautiful and transformative. Because, to Buck, Eddie couldn’t do anything less. He would never be capable of making something unsightly or unpleasant, even with Buck as a starting point.
ask me 'bout my wips
tagging some peeps who may also be interested? @fortheloveofbuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @tizniz @jesuisici33
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okay okay people have probably talked about jake aging as fast as a dog, but i havent really seen it so imma talk ab it again:
finn, jake, and jermaine were all babies at the same time - margaret and joshua must have found finn a few months or so after the pups were born. they are all roughly the same size in the episode ab the old detective family office, so the pups had grown a bit since birth
season one finn is 12 years old and jake is in his late twenty’s - by this point, jake has had a bad boy era, written j.t. dogzone books/had been in multiple relationships, etc etc etc. all while kid finn was still being raised by joshua and margaret.
jumping forward - joshua and margaret passed, leaving kid finn with jake while jermaine stayed at the family house. finn must have left the house at a young rough housing age, evident how the moment he’s back inside, he returns to swinging on the lights and breaking furniture like a rambunctious kid
it always confused me why finn went to live with jake - jake must have been away from home for extended periods while finn was growing up, participating in card wars tournaments and stealing from banks or some shit. jermaine was the one who was likely home with finn more when he was younger, learning joshua’s tips in order to eventually inherit the responsibility of their house/possessions. i wonder why finn wasn’t as close to jermaine - maybe he thought jake was cooler, or maybe jermaine didn’t want finn at the house anymore due to his tendency to break shit. i’m imagining little finn just tearing the place up while jermaine and joshua try to preserve the furniture. then jake visits and is able to take finn out exploring, his magic abilities ensuring he’s safe while getting his pent up energy out
anyways so jake, in his late twenties after living various lives of questionable morality, is now responsible for raising kid finn. jake is a fantastic brother and they are soul mates through and through, but it’s due to his parenting in finn’s formative years that finn represses trauma and deals with emotions by dungeoning. he had finn sword fighting and performing knight duties at the age of 12 and younger - this was likely due to finn already being drawn to that type of stuff, but jake definitely had a hands off approach to his upbringing
also! jake approaching pb, asking if she’d take little kid finn as a knight. it might have happened after joshua and margaret’s death, finn must have been experiencing the same emotions he did during jakes death, feeling lost and unsure of what to do. maybe finn’s coping mechanism of mindless labor started there, when pb agreed and gave him something to do with himself. maybe it was just jake wanting to indulge in that crazy little kid’s proclivity towards justice and violence
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